audrarose

Title: Already Falling
Pairing: J2
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Summary: Arms around the future, back up against the past. Jared goes home for a visit.

Notes: Smutty schmoop! Schmoopy smut! On the phone! (In my head, this is more Whistler!fic, but there's no pre-reading required. Complete.)



“You’re taller than everyone else in Speech Club.”

“You think?” Jared rolls his eyes even though Jensen can't really appreciate the effect through the phone and flops back onto his bed.

“Plus you look totally high.”

“They took the picture before lunch.” Jared stares up. The ceiling of his old bedroom looks exactly the same as it did when he used to do this in high school. For hours. “I can’t believe you stole my yearbook.”

“I can’t believe you brought it up here, you dork. Your own fucking fault. What about… Tara Bauman? Cute.” Jensen sounds appraising.

“Will you just stop guessing? I didn’t go out with her, either.” Jared sighs. “She was there tonight. Pregnant.”

“Another one. Jeez. What is up with your class and procreation... Lara Lafferty?”

“No," he says automatically. "And four kids, by the way.”

“Dude, you’ve only been out of high school seven years.”

Jared shrugs. “I think there were twins in there. She kinda lost me when she said she had to go pump.”

Jen sounds lost. “Pump what?”

“Didn’t want to ask.”

“Probably a good call… so who’d you take to prom?”

Jared closes his eyes, shutting out the ceiling. “Jen, is there any way at all that we can just not do this?”

“Sure, Jay, I could just read it to you instead… This looks like a good one -- ‘Hey, Big Jay, stay cute and funny --.’ “

“Oh, God, fine. Kiera McGovern.” Jared rubs his eyes. Resigns himself to humiliation.

“Okay, okay… let me find her… oh. Wow. She looks --.”

Jared cuts him off. “We were in drama together. We went as friends.”

"Yeah, well, she -- wait. You went to the prom with a friend?"

Jared sinks futher into the mattress. "I had kind of a bad break-up right before. Look, does it matter? Kiera was a friend, she was cool..."

“She wrote a poem about death under her picture.”

“Yeah, well, she was also sort of goth.” Jared feels oddly defensive.

“The black lipstick gave it away. Emo chick, huh? Kinda hot though…Did you bang her?”

“Friends, Jen.”

“That doesn’t mean anything… She show up tonight?”

“Nah. Went to Columbia. Stayed somewhere out east, I heard.” Jared hasn’t thought of her in years. Weird.

Jen breaks the silence. “Rosario Perez.”

“Hot.”

“Still hot?”

“Still really, totally hot.” Jensen’s silence practically crackles over the phone. “And married,” Jared adds. “To Evan Triparmer.”

He can hear Jensen flipping pages. “Well, okay. Also hot.”

“Dick.”

“Thanks.

"Not you." Jared makes a face. “Well, not just you. Him."

“Asshole jock, huh?” Jensen sounds sympathetic.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” And Jen probably wouldn’t. Jen in high-school was probably like Jen now, quiet and gorgeous and just shy enough to make half the world fall all over itself to get his attention. Jared doesn’t feel like trying to explain suddenly too tall and too skinny and trying to make up for it by being too loud. “Ragged my ass for a year.”

“Because what -- you stole his girlfriend? You and Rosario have a thing?” Jared can hear the curiosity under the joke.

“Dude, you’re obsessed. And, uh, no.” He’s pretty sure Rosario didn’t know his name in high-school. “I guess my existence sorta bothered him.”

“Jared, Jared. Just making friends, influencing people…”

“By senior year it was okay, but sophomore year. Fuck.”

Jared can hear Jensen turn a page or two, before he says absently, “Sophomore year’s supposed to suck ass, dude. That’s like, a rule. And yet we lived to tell the tale.”

Jared frowns. Jen’s obviously flashing back to the five awful minutes during his sophomore year when his hair wouldn’t cooperate. Or something. “I can tell your trauma goes deep.”

“I bounced back.” Jared hears a dull thud that might be a book shutting and crosses his fingers. Maybe Jensen finally got bored. “You glad you went home for this thing?” Jensen continues.

Jared has to think about it.

“It was weird. Everyone acted weird.” Jared reaches for the right way to put it. “It was like they all wanted to to talk to me, you know? But they didn’t really want to say anything. Like… we could talk about what we did – you know, the teachers and the football games and the parties and stuff? -- but when we tried to talk about what we’re doing now… I don’t know. It was just… weird.”

Jensen doesn’t say anything but the quiet is more companionable than awkward, like Jensen is just letting him talk, and Jared starts to feel a little better.

“Plus my head hurts,” Jared adds, letting himself whine a little. “I shouldn’t have to put up with a hangover when I’m still kinda drunk.”

Jensen laughs. “Hey, welcome to adulthood. Existential estrangement and zero alcohol tolerance.” Jared can hear the smile in Jensen’s voice, rough and affectionate. Can almost see it.

Misses it so much he hurts.

“Where are you?” Jared asks, clearing his throat.

“Your place, remember? Took the dogs out, stole your yearbook…”

“Yeah, I know, just – where? Specifically.”

He’s a little surprised when Jensen answers without sarcasm, sounding a little bemused. “Arm chair. Living room.”

And then it’s like he really can see Jen, a snapshot in his imagination – tired smile and ruffled hair, low light falling over his face from the lamp, long fingers resting on the book in his lap. God, he loves Jensen’s hands, loves how strong they are, how hard; but what he loves even more is that his own are so much bigger, that he can almost cup both of Jen’s in one of his. He can never tell Jen, but it makes Jared crazy that he can do that, surround Jen like that. Hold him.

“Wish you were here instead,” Jared says, and God, he can’t believe how pathetic he sounds.

“Jay…”

Jared grins, embarrassed, and drops his voice to hide it. “So… uh, what are you wearing?”

Jensen’s laugh just flows over him. “I was going to bed, Jay – what do you think I’m wearing?”

And Jared has to smile for real because he actually knows what Jensen wears to bed, and that simple fact still falls somewhere past amazing. Jen’s probably sitting there on Jared's over-sized armchair in his favorite faded pajama pants and an over-washed t-shirt; or maybe the boxer-briefs he wears sometimes, with some designer label that Jared has to tease him about but made of some unbelievably soft knit that clings to his legs, to his cock, so that Jared doesn’t need to use his imagination at all.

But a lot of times he ends up going to bed wearing nothing at all, once Jared gets through with him.

God.

“Whatever it is…” Can’t disguise the soft hitch in his voice. “Whatever you’re wearing, take it off, okay?”

“Jay?” Jensen sounds surprised.

“Please.” Coaxing. Begging. “Just… take your clothes off.”

“Jared, Jesus…” But he can hear Jensen moving, hear the rough edge come into his voice like Jensen just jumped on this train with him, and Jared has to close his eyes. “You're crazy, you know that?” Jensen whispers. "I wish I was there with you, too."

“Yeah?” Jared manages, speaking around the clutch of lust he can feel starting to claw at him at the thought of Jensen pulling his shirt over his head. Slipping his pajamas down his thighs. “What – what would you do? If you were here?” He’s got to ease his zipper down before things get painful. He doesn't expect Jen to answer, not when he knows how quiet Jen can be --

“I’d -- touch you,” Jen says.

That gets Jared’s attention. “You’d --?”

“Touch you. Get rid of that headache of yours.” He can hear Jensen shifting. “Love touching you.”

“You do?” He doesn’t mean to sound so surprised, and he's not sure if it's what Jensen said or the fact that Jensen said anything at all.

“You don’t know that, yet? God, Jay, yeah."

Jared's at sea. "You never --."

"Every part of you. So goddamn beautiful, can’t believe it sometimes… want to touch you everywhere, Jay. Lay you out on my bed. Take my time...”

This is hot. Almost unbearably hot and it’s not the visual that Jensen’s painting, it’s Jensen’s voice -- just Jensen talking, because Jensen never talks during sex, not ever. Except this --this is practically a flood, a slow, constant flow like spilled honey, while a soft drawl creeps into his voice that sounds like sweetness and sex and drags over Jared’s want like a hand down his spine.

Jared pushes his hand down over the front of his pants. Rubs with his palm. "You make me crazy when you do that."

"Do what?" Smile in Jen's voice that Jared wishes he could taste.

"Go so slow like that. Kiss me slow. Like you want to tease me to death." Kind of like the thought of Jensen spread out naked on his living room furniture. Jared groans. He leans over and gropes, finds lotion in the bed-side drawer. Thank God some things never change.

"Don't want to rush." Jensen's voice in his ear has dropped into a register that only Jared's lizard-brain can access. "Put my mouth all over you..."

And Jensen's done that, too, and the memory of that soft, wet mouth, the exquisite burn of it moving over his skin and melting him boneless is enough to make Jared writhe, push the cloth of his stupid pants and underwear out of the way so he can --.

“Put your hands on yourself for me, okay?" Jensen's voice is rough. "Touch yourself, Jay – do it like I would...." And that's the hottest thing Jen's ever said to him but it's impossible. If he does it the way Jensen would they'd be here all night, with Jared working himself up to the edge and holding it off, teasing and giving in turns until basic thought shuts down and coming, finally, practically makes him cry. Not this time. He wants this the way he wants Jensen, with every part of himself, greedy and hungry and needing all of him right now.

"No. Be me, Jen," he breathes, moving his hand faster. "Be me touching you. God. Are you...?"

"Yeah... fuck."

Oh. Fast and amazing and over and it's way too soon when he realizes it's just the phone pressed up against his cheek, cold plastic and hard edges biting into his palm -- so different than Jensen’s face, Jensen’s mouth, his skin and breath and touch. He rests it against his face anyway. "Jen." He says name like a kiss. "Why aren’t you here?”

"God, babe." Silence while he listens to Jensen breathe, listens to something close and intimate and wordless growing in between them that makes a thousand miles mean nothing at all. Jensen laughs a little. "Because I'm back here in Vancouver jacking off to your high-school graduation picture. You turned me into a perv." There's a pause. "All over your furniture."

“Ewww.” Jared lifts his head and takes a good look at himself -- flopped diagonally on his too-small child-hood bed and breathing hard, pants open and belly covered in spunk.

Just like high-school.

Jared sighs, drops his head to the mattress. "My mom should be walking in any second.”

“What…?”

“Never mind.” He needs sleep and about twenty aspirin and Jensen in bed with him, and all of that seems kind of impossible at the moment.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to get your ass home so I can watch you do that. I'll help."

Maybe not so much like high school after all. Jared smiles.

“I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” He can hear Jensen’s grin. “Thought you were gonna stay until Monday.”

“Nah. Things change.”


End