audrarose

Title: Just My Imagination
Author: Audra Rose
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All made up. See title.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Length: 6300 words
Summary: Schmoopy first-time in which Jensen can't handle his tequila, Jared is frustrated and Whistler is cold and snowy.
Warnings: None. Unless “fluff” qualifies.
Notes: I just wanted to write goopy, feel-good, cliché-fic. (Also? My first rps. eep.) Big, messy, beta thank you kisses to sori1773 and wendy. LoveloveLOVE.






“Hey – are you going to hang out for awhile?”

Jared looks up from his bank shot. Jeff is wearing a parka and some ridiculous woolen hat that stopped being funny right about the time the Whistler temperature dropped below zero.

He straightens. “Yeah, for a little longer, I guess. What’s up?”

“Can you take care of Jensen?” Jeff asks.

Jared blinks. His immediate answer to that is hell, yeah, but –

“Why?” Jared glances back toward the booth where they’ve been sitting all night. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Still your shot, Jay,” Linda the AD says, and Jared smiles and half-waves at her with the hand not holding a pool cue. When he turns back to Jeff, he’s tilting his fingers next to his mouth in the universal sign for “wasted”.

“Are you serious?” Jared looks back at the booth again. This time he notices Jensen’s easy sprawl across the wooden bench, the way he’s pushing a shot-glass carefully across the table with the tips of his fingers. “What the fuck -- he wasn't that bad when I left. What happened?”

"Shots." Jeff smirks. "Kim bought a round before she left. Then one of the crew guys bought one..."

"Just tell me it wasn't tequila."

Jared remembers Tom and Jamie’s end-of-season wrap party and the bottle of Dos Hermanos that turned Jensen into a disturbingly affectionate and particularly decorative lawn ornament.

"Well, I could tell you that... it just wouldn't be true." More smirking.

Well, hell. If Jen’s been hitting the Jose after a steady night of drinking, he’s definitely going to need someone to play babysitter and drag his ass home.

And put him to bed.

Jared has a sudden, vivid image of warm blankets and warmer skin and hot, liquid kisses. On second thought, though, maybe it should be someone who hasn’t been imagining Jensen in bed since they met.

“Can’t you take him back with you?” Jared asks, hopefully.

“He says he doesn’t want to leave yet.”

Jared sighs.

“How many shots?”

“I don't know. Two, at least.”

“Could be worse, I guess.”

“Yeah, tell him that in the morning. You okay, here?” Jeff’s driving back to Vancouver at first light, now that the location shoot’s done, and he’s getting restless, wanting to head out. Jared claps him on the shoulder.

“Yeah – yeah, I’ll take care of him. No problem.”

“Okay, good. And… um. Good luck.” Jeff escapes out the door in a blast of cold air with his smirk and his silly-ass hat.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jared says to the space where Jeff used to be and then looks over at Jensen. Watches him take about thirty seconds to blink.

Terrific.

After warning off the waitress with a smile and a twenty, he decides to leave Jensen where he is, with his boots propped up on the bench and his back against the wall, watching Ray and some of the other crew guys haphazardly fling darts at the machine across the room. Maybe if Jared waits long enough, Jen will have a chance to metabolize some of whatever it is about tequila that knocks him on his ass, and in the meantime Jared can kick Linda’s butt at pool.

Or he would be kicking her butt if he didn’t keep looking back at the booth. Just to see how Jensen’s doing, see if anyone’s decided to take that gorgeous, boneless sprawl as an invitation, but then he can’t stop looking. For real. Strong forearm resting on the table. Muscled shoulder under some soft knit shirt that on Jen is somehow both loose and tight at the same time. Even profile he’d know anywhere.

Just Jensen, like always, but relaxed into some effortless, open slouch that makes him seem approachable. Touchable.

Well, fuck.

He goes back to the game and stops looking back.

It’s maybe twenty minutes before he leaves Linda gloating over her win and stalks back to the booth to deal with Sleeping Beauty, but it’s like time hasn’t moved. Jensen’s still sitting there, looking mildly interested in the dart game across the bar. Jared steps in front of him.

Jensen doesn’t even blink.

“Hey, Jen – you ready to get out of here?”

No answer.

“Jen?”

“Hey,” Jensen breathes happily, eyes focused somewhere around Jared’s belt buckle.

“Up here, dude.”

Jensen finally looks up at him like he’s moving under water, all dreamy-smile and soft focus gaze that heats Jared’s face, like maybe Jensen’s doing this on purpose, like it isn’t just alcohol that’s making him sound like Dean trying to score. Jared takes a second to re-group.

“It’s really late, man – let’s go.”

Jen cocks his head, studies Jared for a second. “You know something? You’ve got a great voice.” Jen says it like he’s sharing a revelation that just dawned on him.

Slowly.

“Say something else,” Jen says, encouragingly.

Jared stares, first at Jen and then down at the table. Counts shot glasses.

There are way more than two.

“Did – who brought you more tequila? Hey, Ray, did you buy him more shots?” He glares death at the guys playing darts and then turns back to Jen, shaking his head. “Was it Ray? I’ll fucking kill him.”

“You see? That was great.” Jensen sounds proud. “I’ll fucking kill him. Really sounded like you meant it.” Jensen nods wisely, lifts a near-empty glass to his lips.

Jared takes it out of his hand. “You’re an idiot.”

Jensen frowns. “Okay, now, I didn’t like that one as much.”

“I think we’re done here. Come on, stand up.”

Jensen stares up at him like he isn’t sure who Jared’s talking to, and there’s a minute where Jared wonders what he’ll do if Jen doesn’t cooperate. Jared’s bigger, but given Jensen’s definite tactical advantages in both drunkenness and gravity, there’s a possibility that Jared might need some help. He starts looking around for volunteers, but then Jensen lets his feet fall to the floor, slides over to the edge of the bench like his ass is on wheels and stands up way too smoothly for someone this far gone.

“I’m standing.” Jen informs him, solemnly, like he isn’t close enough that Jared can see his freckles, can actually count thick eyelashes around almost-green eyes that don’t even have the decency to be bloodshot.

“Congratulations,” Jared mumbles, turning away to paw through the pile of coats on the other bench. He tries to remember which jacket is Jen’s.

“So where are we going?” Jensen asks, with interest, like Jared’s going to suggest Tahiti or something.

“How about the hotel, what do you say?” He grabs a parka that looks vaguely familiar and pushes the jacket at Jen’s chest, ending up with his hands tangled in Jen’s arms and the folds of the coat when Jen tries to grab it. He’s pretty sure that this would be embarrassing even without the guys snickering over by the dartboard.

Jen looks at the coat doubtfully. “This is mine?”

“Yeah, Jen, it’s yours.” Probably.

“I have a big, puffy coat?”

Jared’s head is starting to hurt.

“Dude, it’s the freaking mountains in January. We all have big, puffy coats. Just put it on and let’s go.”

“Fine.” Jen shrugs, trying to find the armholes. “But I should start looking in a mirror before I buy stuff.”

Jared’s got nothing to say to that, so he finds his own coat and they make it through the bar together. Jared shoots believe-me-you-will-pay-for-this looks at the crew guys, who cower in fear by laughing their asses off. Then they’re outside on a dimly-lit, cobbled street so fucking quaint it could be a movie set. In Antarctica.

Jesus, it’s cold; cold that takes the air away, cold like he never imagined existed in Texas or L.A. Cold like something that could kill you.

Jared looks at Jensen; gloveless, hatless, throat exposed where that soft-looking shirt is unbuttoned and just standing there in the cold, letting the moonlight fall all over him.

“You don’t do this when you’re alone, do you?” Jared asks him abruptly, pulling his own hat down over his ears.

Jen’s looking aimlessly around the stupidly adorable street with a half-grin on his face. “Do what?”

“You know. Drink like this. So you get…” Stupid. Useless. Irresistible.

“Get what, Jay?” Jen’s still got the half-smile, but now he sounds a little indignant. Jared sighs.

“Forget it. Look, just… close your coat. It’s colder than hell out here.”

“You,” Jen tells him, seriously, “are not my mother.”

“Glad we cleared that up, man.” But fuck it, he’s not going to listen to Jensen bitch about his runny nose and hacking cough for the next week, so he reaches out and pulls the gaping sides of Jen’s jacket together, zips it up like he’s sending a kid off to pre-school.

“Dude. You did not just zip my coat.” Jensen looks like he’s either going to get irritated or sulk, and Jared’s too cold to deal with either.

“You’re right. I did not zip your coat. You totally imagined it.”

There’s a minute there where it could go either way, where Jared thinks he can actually hear the sloshy voice in Jensen’s mind weighing the options, but then Jen smiles. It’s startling, like it always is when Jen’s smile catches him by surprise.

“I’ll let it go.”

“Thanks.” Jared has to smile back, just a little, because it’s impossible not to. “What would you do if I weren’t here, huh?”

“Lucky I don’t have to find out.” More of the smile, sleepy and sweet, fingers thumping hard against Jared’s chest and yeah, that’s Jen, completely sure that things will always just work out, no harm will come. Spontaneous to the bone.

“You make me crazy, Jen.”

The words just thud into the silence and the revolting cuteness and Jared freezes, appalled. It was supposed to be a complaint, long suffering and irritated, only for some reason it came out like some kind of heart-felt… confession, and he almost panics before he remembers that Jensen’s wasted.

“You need to get to bed,” he says, turning away with his voice only a little too rough. “Let’s go.”

They had decided to drink at the Dublin Gate because it was walking distance from the hotel, five minutes tops, but he hadn’t counted on sub-zero temperatures and drunken co-stars. A straight line’s completely out of the question, apparently, especially when Jensen wants to stop and look in windows, so Jared has to keep grabbing his arm and steering him back to the sidewalk.

Before they’re even half-way back to the hotel he’s got Jensen’s arm looped over his shoulder and his arm around Jensen’s waist, and between the cobblestones and the snow and the Christmas lights he feels like they’re about to start a dance routine in some freaking Bing Crosby movie, like any minute one of them will burst into song. He’d bet money it’s going to be Jensen.

“There’s no one out here,” Jensen says, conversationally, like he just noticed the streets are practically empty. “That’s kinda weird.”

“Not really.” Jared’s too cold to be as sarcastic as he’d like. “Considering it’s the middle of the night and fucking freezing.”

Jensen looks up at him, all vague concern and oblivious, come-fuck-me eyes.

“Hey, are you cold?”

Jared has to keep his jaw clenched or he’s afraid his teeth will chatter out of his head. Jen seems to take that as an affirmative anyway and shoves himself closer to Jared in a puff of collapsing down.

“There,” Jensen says, sounding satisfied. He pats Jared’s head somewhere around his ear. “That’s better, huh?” Jared decides that at this particular moment he really hates big puffy coats and the un-fucking-believable cold and while he’s at it, Canada, because if he has to practically carry Jensen home, then he should at least get to feel more of him than just an armful of slippery fabric and fluff.

“Just keep moving,” he grumbles.

They keep walking, or at least Jared walks and Jensen gamely lets himself be dragged along, and it probably only feels like an eternity before they pass the brightly lit front door of the hotel. They’re heading down the walk toward the private condos in the back when Jensen practically stumbles over packed snow made squeaky by the cold. Jared just sighs and drags him closer. He’s starting to wonder if he’s being punished. He also wonders if it’s possible for denim to freeze solid, because he can’t feel his thighs anymore.

“Stay with me, man, we’re almost there.” Jensen’s hip keeps bumping his.

“You’re not holding me up, you know. I can walk just fine.” Sleepily certain, hint of a soft drawl, murmured into Jared’s neck. The tip of Jen’s nose is cold, but his lips are warm and soft. If Jared tilts his head, their faces will touch.

Jared’s in hell. Twinkly-light, gingerbread hell.

“Okay, this one’s yours, right? Number 16? Where’s your key?”

“Coat pocket.”

When it’s obvious Jen isn’t even going to try to find it, Jared yanks off his gloves and props Jensen against the door, then shoves his hand in Jen’s coat pockets, one after the other. Then he does it again.

“There’s nothing in here.”

Jensen sighs, resigned. “I told you this wasn’t my coat.”

“Oh, for—“ Jared steps back too quickly and Jensen stumbles forward, and it’s either catch him or haul him up from the ground afterward, so Jared just grabs for the slippery coat, lets their legs get tangled up and feels Jensen’s hands grip his arms. He looks up at the light over the doorway, like it can give him strength. Patience. Control.

Jensen tilts his head up, too.

“What are we looking at?”

Aw, screw it.

It’s not even a real kiss, just a soft brush against Jen’s cold, beautiful mouth, soft and firm all at the same time. And that was all it was going to be, really, but Jesus, stopping there is impossible, like Jensen is impossible, so Jared touches the tip of his tongue to Jen’s lower lip, warms it up for him. Half a second to learn the shape, take just a taste, and then he pulls back, reluctantly, not wanting to give up that heat.

“Wait.” Jensen sounds surprised, like something’s finally breaking through the haze. “Did you just kiss me?” Jared’s about to start babbling excuses, but then Jensen licks his lips, right where Jared did, and Jared has to step closer instead.

“No,” he says, carefully. “You imagined it.”

He cups Jensen’s jaw with both hands and bends down, and oh, God, this time Jensen leans into him and kisses him back. It’s just one kiss, gentle and soft -- but obviously this stupid, snow-globe town has infected his brain, because for a second it’s weirdly sweet, ridiculously romantic… only fuck that, because immediately Jared wants more.

Jensen’s damned coat’s in the way, but if he slides his lips across Jensen’s cheek he can mouth Jen’s jaw and bite down his neck. If he noses beneath the coat collar he can lick the hard curve of Jen’s collarbone and feel body-warm air on his face that smells like Jensen’s cologne and Jensen’s skin, but, God, it’s Jen’s mouth he can’t leave alone. Deep kisses, now, open and wet, and it’s a little rough and a little messy and a whole god-damned world of incredible.

“You know…” Jen murmurs, somewhere near the corner of Jared’s mouth, “it’s really cold out here.” Like he just noticed.

Jared pulls back and looks down at darkened, half-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. He’s talking before his brain catches up.

“You could stay with me tonight.”

It comes out rushed and mumbled and Jensen just blinks back at him, mouth still open a little, so Jared has to kiss him again.

“Stay with -- oh. Mmmm. Yeah. Okay.”

Not exactly ringing with enthusiasm, but that’s all Jared needs to hear. They’re three doors down and he has his key out before Jensen can mumble anything else, and he has his own coat on the floor and Jensen’s jacket unzipped by the time the door closes behind them.

“Hey, you did it again…” Jensen says, staring down at the zipper, but he inhales sharply when Jared slips his arms beneath the fabric. Jen’s shirt is definitely as soft as it looks, blissfully warm from Jen’s body and clinging to Jared’s cold fingers, slipping softly over Jen’s skin as he slides his hands over Jen’s sides, around his waist.

“Oh, God -- come over here,” he breathes, tugging Jen closer. He’s wondering wildly if he should take this slowly, if he’s even capable of that, but then like a miracle, Jen just falls into him. He gets it all – legs and hips and hard chest, ice-cold fingers shoving his hat off and digging into his hair to pull his face down, and then, oh, God, Jen’s mouth again. Kissing him like Jen wants to eat him alive, and finally, finally he can get the stupid coat off, so he shoves it down Jensen’s shoulders.

Jared drags him back so their hips collide and hallelujah, there’s interest there, definite interest, something Jared can work with, so he rubs their bodies together in one slow, clinging slide that Jensen matches like he’s dancing.

Like he’s drunk.

Hell.

“Hey, Jen…” he whispers, lips against Jen’s temple. He’s already starting to hate himself for bringing this up. “How wasted are you, exactly?”

Jensen stills, puts his hands on Jared’s shoulders.

“Look, Jared. I --.” Jensen starts, but then he shudders, full body. Jared’s wondering if he can interpret that to mean, I’m not that messed up, Jay, so please feel free to fuck me, when Jen does it again.

“You still cold?” Jared asks, rubbing his hands up and down Jen’s arms, moving slowly, molding his muscles, pressing into his skin.

“Pretty damn cold out,” Jen says, voice unsteady. He’s curling his hands in Jared’s shirt, trying to warm his fingers, pressing his cold face into Jared’s shoulder and something twists inside Jared’s chest that definitely isn’t guilt. It’s something way more alarming.

“I can keep you warm.” He whispers it so his voice won’t shake, brushing his mouth over the smooth skin of Jen’s cheek, the cold edge of one ear. He traces it with his tongue and Jensen moans at that, actually moans, leaving Jared desperately hoping he’ll be able to spend the rest of the night getting Jen to make that sound again. Over and over.

“You’re cold, too,” Jen answers, almost too low to hear, and then, Jesus, Jensen’s touching him, there in the dark, moving his hands in a languid slide over Jared’s chest, his back, his arms. Every place Jensen touches him Jared can feel his skin heat up and his blood start to pound and it’s amazing, but maddening, too, because if Jen doesn’t say something, soon –

“Come on, Jen, please… just tell me this is okay.” Jared thinks he sounds like he’s begging. Possibly because he is.

Jen pulls back, still touching Jared but looking like he might start to laugh. And yeah, maybe Jared sounds ridiculous, but suddenly this is important, more important than anything.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” He casts around for words, tries to find a way to explain. “This is you and me, Jen. It can’t -- it can’t be something you regret.”

He watches Jensen shake his head, face unreadable in the shadows.

“Jay, you’re killing me, here,” Jen says, and the words just go right through him, because Jen’s voice is content and happy and as warm as his hands on Jared’s body, so fuck it, that’s good enough. He needs to kiss Jen again, like Jen needs to kiss him, it seems, so he shifts until they fit, licks Jensen’s mouth open and just makes out with him like they’re in high-school or something, urgent and searching and deep.

Except they’re not in high school.

And if this is the only chance Jared is going to get with Jensen, then he’s going to do everything he’s ever thought of. He clenches his fists in soft knit and slides Jen’s shirt up his sides, stroking over his ribs.

“Take this off,” he murmurs, and Jen drops his hands, lets Jared help him slip the soft material over his head and down his arms. Jared has to swallow and just look, because God, Jen’s body’s beautiful in the moonlight from the window, and now he’s finally allowed to touch. He puts his hands on Jen’s skin and drags him close again.

“Wanted you out of that shirt all night,” he whispers. All the time. Imagined it, wanted it and never thought he’d get to have it, like he never thought he’d have the smooth skin of Jen’s shoulder under his mouth, the hard point of bone fitted to his tongue. Jen’s running his hands over his back, his hips, down over the length of his thighs like he can’t get enough, fingers searching out every place that makes Jared’s breath hitch.

“Come on, you, too,” Jen says, his voice a little ragged, tugging at the hem of Jared’s sweater, pulling it up until finally Jared just drags it over his head, reaching out for Jen before it even touches the floor. Sudden touch of skin on skin is shocking, heated chest and teasing, cool hands and Jared thinks he’s going to melt in between them.

They’re moving, then; Jared’s moving them, doesn’t care where they’re going as long as he gets Jensen someplace horizontal, someplace right now. Jen’s shoulders hit the wall and Jared automatically reaches up to catch the back of Jen’s head before it hits the plaster.

Walls are good, too, Jared thinks blankly, and pushes his thigh between Jen’s legs so Jen will kiss him and grind into him and make sounds into Jared’s mouth that he wishes he could swallow. He could get lost in this, in the stroke and roll and lick that seem to be making Jen crazy, but suddenly Jen surges forward, stronger than Jared expects. Then he’s the one against the wall and it’s like Jensen’s starving, touching him everywhere at once, kissing him like they’re going to die and Jared’s really starting to wonder.

“Up – upstairs. Up.” Jen says, dragging his mouth away like he suddenly remembered he needed to breathe, voice blown, hands pulling Jared toward the steps, turning away with one hand around Jared’s arm to start hauling him up. And okay, great, brilliant idea, but that’s never going to happen, no way he can wait that long, so he just grabs onto Jen’s hips, feels loose denim hitch down over silky skin until he has hard bone fitting into his palms and then he just tugs.

They go down together, Jensen on one knee and then an elbow, like he’s going to crawl up the stairs, laughing when Jared just covers him. Jared puts his chest against the perfect arch of Jensen’s back, his lips against the warm nape of Jen’s neck, right where it makes him hiss, slides one hand searchingly over his chest.

“You laughing at me, Jen?” Growls it low into Jensen’s ear, smiling as he says it. He feels Jen smile, too, and do that shaky laugh some more, so Jared has to make him stop by sliding his hips up and pressing his cock against the hard curve of Jen’s ass. That feels so good that Jared feels parts of his brain start to shut down.

He opens his eyes when Jensen reaches back to snake a hand into his hair and try to drag his face close enough to kiss, a contortion even Jared isn’t tall enough to manage, so he ends up licking Jensen’s neck, instead.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, biting down and running a hand over one of Jen’s nipples, making it harden under his fingertips. Jensen stops trying to pull Jared’s mouth toward his and reaches back to grab Jared’s ass instead, pressing him closer.

“We’re going to -- fuck, Jared,” Jen gasps out when Jared uses his nails and moves his hips some more.

“Yeah. Definitely.” He presses his teeth into Jensen’s earlobe. “Fucking is funny?”

Jen’s half-laughing again, in between hitching breaths, and his fingers are slipping restlessly over the seam in Jared’s jeans in a way that makes heat curl low between Jared’s legs.

“Jay –Jay, we’re going to end up naked on your stairs.”

“God, I hope so.” He can’t stop moving his hands, exploring Jen’s body like he can learn it all at once, smooth chest and hard stomach and thin line of hair that tickles his fingers and then, god, he’s cupping Jen’s cock through his jeans, and it makes him shake. Hard ridge that rides his palm like every fantasy he’s ever had, but now Jared just needs to know, for real, right now, how long, how thick, what the weight of him will feel like on his tongue.

“Turn – turn over,” he whispers, and Jensen isn’t laughing so much anymore; he just turns his body and leans back on his elbows, breathing hard and staring up at Jared with serious, watchful eyes. The moonlight from the landing window washes over him, sculpted chest and taut arms where he’s resting his weight, and Jared’s hands are suddenly clumsy, fumbling at the buttons of Jen’s jeans. When Jensen reaches out a hand toward Jared’s belt buckle, Jared catches his fingers.

“Don’t.”

Jensen looks up at him. “Why? Jared --.” He looks concerned and hurt and Jared leans forward to kiss that look away.

“Please. Can I – just me, this time? For a minute?”

Jen hesitates, but then he nods and kisses Jared back. “Killing me, Jay,” he repeats, softly into Jared’s mouth, like he just wants to make Jared smile, and Jared finds he can work the buttons.

Jeans and boxers tugged down to Jen’s thighs, so now the moonlight spreads over the dips and curves of Jen’s abdomen, his hips, making shadows Jared wants to lick. And of course Jen’s cock matches the rest of him, like he ordered it from a catalog; long and lean and perfect, flushed wet and shiny at the tip. And hard.

Really hard.

Jared runs his palm up the silky length of it, wets his fingertips. “Guess you’re not that drunk.” He listens to his voice waver.

“I’m – I’m not drunk,” Jen says, shifting beneath Jared’s touch, body moving in fascinating ways that make Jared’s heart speed up and his cock ache.

He swallows. “Okay.”

“I’m not. I want you to know that. Jay --” And maybe Jensen was going to say something else, but he stops talking abruptly when Jared leans down and licks his navel, and Jared finds that unbelievably hot. He’s got Jen’s hands in his hair and Jen’s flat stomach under his lips and he thinks he could spend hours trying to stop Jen from making sense.

One lick to that shiny tip and Jen’s fingers convulse; when he looks up to see if Jen likes it, he sees that Jen’s got his head thrown back, neck and arms rigid, and Jared decides to take that as a yes. He’s suddenly wild to see what else Jen likes; finds out quickly that soft, sucking kisses along the shaft make him squirm and gentle bites to the insides of his thighs make him knead Jared’s scalp and almost beg. One long lick along the length makes him groan, and when Jared finally opens his mouth and sucks him in, Jensen curls his body up like he’s trying to bend himself around Jared, absorb him, take him in.

Jared gets skittering strokes against his cheek, his jaw, and Jensen moving his hips almost tentatively, his legs shaking, maybe with the effort not to just thrust. That’s the only thing Jared wants him to do, though, so he pulls back, leaving just the tip of Jen’s cock resting against his tongue, which makes Jen sound like he’s going to strangle. Then Jared moves back far enough to whisper, “Come on, Jen. Just fuck my mouth.”

Jen kind of comes apart at that, pushing forward and in, the way Jared wants him to, lifting his hips enough that Jared can slide his hands under and cup Jen’s ass, dig his fingers into that hard muscle.

“So… God, you’re so…” Jared can hear Jensen talking, whispering brokenly as he moves in some jerky rhythm that’s awkward and unbearably perfect at the same time, and the words only partially make sense next to the slick slide of Jensen’s cock over his lips, his tongue, nudging the back of his throat.

“Want you so much, Jay… just… oh, God, that’s… just like that … don’t stop,” which is almost funny, because the last thing Jared wants to do is stop. He wants to make Jensen come, come until he’s mindless, until he’s blind, and then he wants to get his own cock somewhere so deep inside Jen that he’ll never want anyone else, ever.

That thought crashes over him, possessive and fierce, and the thought and the image make Jared moan, deep in the back of his throat, and swallow convulsively until Jensen is shaking and gasping and biting his lip, and then everything is just hot and wet as Jensen comes and comes. He’s filling Jared’s mouth, his throat, and Jared’s so hard he doesn’t remember what to do; spit or swallow or try to make it last. He’s doing some pathetic, choking combination of both when Jensen’s hand tightens in his hair and hauls him up into the deepest, wettest, most obscene kiss he’s ever had.

“God, Jay – that was – you – you’re incredible.” Incoherent and rambling against Jared’s mouth, and Jared’s all for rave reviews, but if he doesn’t get to come soon --

“What do you want?” Jen asks, still sounding quietly stunned, rubbing his face against Jared’s. “Do you – do want me to suck you? I can suck you…”

That mouth, wrapped around his dick, Jensen’s mouth -- but --

“I really want to fuck you.” Jared’s voice sounds like gravel. “God, Jen, please – can I fuck you?”

Jen’s nodding, nodding and babbling a little, “Yeah. Yeah, good. Okay.” He reaches out for Jared’s belt buckle and, hell, for the second time that night, which should qualify him for some kind of freaking award, Jared stops him and says, “Wait. I don’t have anything –“

“In my wallet --.”

“Jen. I – I want you in bed. My bed. I pictured us like that…”

And Jensen’s kind of laughing again and shaking his head, but he’s sitting up, so Jared moves back. Suddenly he gets Jen’s warm, big hand, palming him through his jeans until he sees stars, and hears Jensen’s low growl in his ear, “You ever gonna let me touch you, Jay?”

And then he’s watching Jen walk up the stairs with his pants pulled up just enough to hang off his hips and show the curve of his ass beneath the shadowed hollow of his back and Jared wonders if he’ll be able to stand.

There are no doors to open – the entire top floor of the condo is a single room with sliding glass and views of the moonlit slope and a bed, piled with pillows and down comforters. There’s a minute where everything is a confusion of pulling and tugging on jeans and boots but then, God, it’s fluffy blankets and soft pillows and Jensen’s skin, all of it, warm against him where Jensen’s wound around him, long limbs tangled with his, Jared’s hard cock sliding over Jen’s hard stomach and he’s never needed to come so badly in his life.

“God, Jen… please.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Jen says, kissing him and pushing his fingers through Jared’s damp hair in a motion so… tender that Jared decides he’ll let it destroy him later when he isn’t about to explode.

“Where do you keep --.” Jensen starts, but Jared’s already reaching for the nightstand, practically pulling the drawer out onto the floor, but he finds what they need before he breaks anything. Then they’re wound up together again in blankets and sex and Jen’s putting slick gel all over Jared’s hands. Jared reaches down between them, brushing Jen’s cock, which, wow, is already starting to show some interest again, palm grazing delicately over Jen’s heavy sack, and then behind, touching smooth skin that makes Jensen gasp and rough skin that makes him writhe.

One finger in tight heat makes Jen pull him closer, pushing back and moving his hips in a smooth roll that pretty soon has Jared fucking him open with his fingers, finding an angle that makes Jen start, watching the expression on Jensen’s face go lax and lost and helpless.

“You’re so… you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the words just slipping out, and he hopes wildly that Jen will let him fuck him soon before he says anything even more idiotic. “Are you ready? Can I --.”

“God -- yeah. Ready. Need you in me, Jay.”

Jared’s never heard anything more wonderful in his life. “Okay. Okay, I need to --.”

“Let me do it.” And Jensen doesn’t look lost anymore, he looks hungry and teasing and still so beautiful Jared could moan, especially when Jen reaches down with a slick hand to stroke his cock with firm, caressing fingers.

“Finally get to touch you,” Jen says, hand never still, just feeling him, eyes moving over Jared’s face like he wants to sculpt it later. “Made me wait. All this time, months, and now I’ve finally got you and you made me wait.”

“Uh…sorry?” Jared’s so close he could liquefy, so if Jen wants anything more coherent, he’s going to have to wait until Jared has blood somewhere near his brain again.

Jen’s laugh is low and a little helpless, and the kiss he gives Jared is hotter than the sun. “Forgive you. Just fuck me.”

Deal. Torn wrapper and Jensen’s hands sliding the tight circle on him, another slick pull and then Jensen rolls away, pulling a pillow beneath his hips. Jared wants, more than he could ever have imagined, but he has to stop, just to look and touch, eyes and hands sweeping over Jensen like he can learn him by heart. In case he has to remember, later.

“Jared, please --.” And that’s all he can take, has to grab Jen’s hips, pull him to his knees and push inside him, just a little, rocking forward with slow presses as Jen leans back. Inch by inch and Jared thinks he might combust, heat and pressure and …

“You good?” Has to ask, can’t see Jen’s face, can only hear him making muffled noises that might be pleasure.

“Fuck… yeah. Just…”

“What?” Strokes a hand over Jen’s shoulders, his neck, petting helplessly with the effort not to just pump.

“More.”

Jared hears himself moan, buries himself in one smooth, motion, and it’s hot and perfect and not enough, so he just covers Jen’s body, pushes him down into the mattress and falls with him so they’re locked together, every part of them touching. Better, so much better; he can kiss Jensen now, mouth his jaw, twine their fingers together and nudge Jen’s bent leg higher with his knee so they can… move. Together. Urgent, drugging rhythm that builds and builds until he comes with a force that rocks the bed and his mind and maybe the whole god-damned world.

**

“Oh, God, Jen…” he whispers, mouth on Jen’s skin like he’ll never be able to have it anywhere else. “That was… Did you…?” He slides his hand over Jen’s damp hip, feels Jen catch his fingers.

Breathless laugh. “Yeah. Yes. Jesus.” Jensen takes the pillow he’d had shoved beneath him and tosses if off the bed. “Wow.”

There’s still a lot of moonlight, so when Jared pulls back, moves their bodies apart, he can see Jensen; face buried in his pillow, smooth, bare shoulders Jared wants to kiss some more, faint bruises he wants to bite deeper.

“Wow,” Jared repeats, listlessly dropping the condom off the side of the bed and resting his head between Jen’s shoulder blades. “We really… did that.” He realizes he sounds almost awed.

“Yeah, we did, because if you tell me I imagined your cock up my ass, we’re going to have some trouble,” Jensen says, his voice muffled.

“No one’s imagination is that good,” Jared says, laying back against the pillows with a groan.

Jen laughs into the pillow and turns his head. He is spiky hair and gritty eyes, stubbled, sheet-creased jaw and possibly the most gorgeous thing Jared’s ever seen. Jared runs a hand up Jensen’s back and tries to ignore the balloon of dread growing in his chest that makes it hard to breathe.

“If you tell me this only happened because you were wasted…” He can’t even finish it.

“I was not wasted. I only had, like, half a shot.” Jensen sounds… miffed.

“Come on. You're trying to tell me you weren't drunk at all?”

“Okay, maybe I was a little out of it at first --.”

“Because if you were sober during that walk through the fucking arctic, you’re just way too method --.”

“Okay, okay! But, Jay…believe me – I knew exactly what I was doing. The whole time.” Low voice that makes the balloon burst, dissolve into nothing when Jensen reaches out, warm palm landing on Jared’s jaw, cupping it. “Been thinking about this. Us.”

“Yeah?” Jared has to grin, hopes it doesn’t look as goofy as it feels. “Kind of an elaborate set-up, though, wasn’t it? You could have just said something.”

And instead of the smart-ass answer Jared expects, Jen just smiles a little, like he’s laughing at himself.

“You gonna forgive me?” Jen asks, only half-kidding.

Jared grins wider. Jen had been nervous. Jen had been unsure, about him, and he wants to shout it to the sky. “I’ll let it go.”

“Thanks.” He shakes the hand on Jared’s jaw. “God, you really need a shave.”

“You need a shower.”

“Yeah, whose fault is that?” Said with a laugh. “Fuck you, Padalecki.”

“During or after?” He watches Jensen’s face change. Thinks that maybe everything's changed.

Jensen smiles. “I’ll decide when we get there.”

End