Genre: Jared/Jensen AU
Word Count: 3,400
Warnings: Underage, crossdressing, corsets, breathplay, comeplay, barebacking, mirrorsex, and unlikely scenarios devised purely for the sake of porn.
Notes: Title borrowed from ee cummings. Written for smpc (although it's not really morning anymore). Many thanks to cherie_morte for the prompt!
Summary: Jensen accidentally sees a different side of his best friend’s kid brother. He likes it.
Four hours in a car and the last thing Jensen wants to do is go to a party. He'd promised, however, and Jeff had said that he's throwing it for him, even though Jensen suspects that it has less to do with his homecoming from school and more to do with a viable excuse to get fall down drunk and make a whole bushel of bad decisions.
Jensen stretches as he gets out of his car, works the kinks out of his back and grabs his backpack. Jeff's house is dark, only a dim light shining from one of the upstairs bedrooms. The door is unlocked—it's that kinda neighborhood—and Jensen lets himself in and drags himself up the stairs. He wants to take a shower, wash the trip off of him. Gridlock outside of the city has made him an hour late and everyone's already gone down to the lake, and an extra half-hour can't hurt.
There's an odd sense of dislocation whenever Jensen comes back to town after a semester away. At school, he's always meeting new people, going to new places and learning new things, and then he comes back to here where everything is oddly static. The same family photos on the walls in the hallway, the same creak in the last stair, the same lavender smell from the same bowl of potpourri that always sits on the table in the landing.
The door to Jeff's room is closed, a small fan of light spreading out from beneath it, and Jensen cracks it open. He freezes. This is different. Very different.
All of Jeff's hockey posters have been taken down and the walls have been painted a dark grey. The floor is actually visible, not covered in Jeff's usual heaps of clothes and books and magazines. A new desk is shoved into the corner and a new bed is shoved into the one opposite, but all of this isn't what makes the muscles in Jensen body unresponsive, makes his fist lock down on the doorknob, his breath catch in his lungs and has all the blood in his body heading south.
Jared stands with his back to him in front of the mirror on the closet door, arms wrenched behind his back as he struggles with the laces of a cream-colored corset. He's wearing a matching pair of boy shorts with a small pink bow on the front, low enough on his hips to show the rounded curve of his belly and snug around his upper thighs, so much hotter for everything they don't give away rather than everything they do. He twists and turns with his head bowed, long hair spilling over his face.
Jensen's known the kid forever, ever since he became friends with his brother when they were four. He'd watched as Jared grew from a snot-nosed toddler to a snot-nosed twelve year old, defended him when he went through that phase a couple of years ago where he'd dyed his hair dark blue and wore a fake lip ring that changed position every other hour. Maybe he'd paid a little too much attention to Jared when he'd had a growth spurt last summer, when his frame grew tall and his muscles wiry, when his shoulders became broad and his voice took on a deeper tone, and maybe he'd let the kid flirt with him a little too much as well.
All of this adds up to the fact that Jared is the closest thing Jensen's ever had to a little brother, and it should be Jensen's job to watch out for him. Take care of him. Make sure he's happy and accept him at face value, no matter what.
There are a lot of things Jensen should do. He's staying here for two weeks and doesn't want to embarrass the guy, would like it if Jared's able to look him in the eye while they're under the same roof. He should retreat to the front door, make some noise on the way up the second time around. He should head back to his car and drive to the lake. He should take a shower and maybe jack himself off and try his best not to think of Jared, of the clear shape of Jared's cock topped off with a pretty pink bow, outlined in thin, creamy white fabric.
Jensen's mouth has always been a reckless, willful thing, and instead he holds his ground and says, "They make those with hooks on the front. I hear they're easier to get on that way."
Jared jumps and snaps his head up, his mouth open in surprise and his arms wrapping protectively around his chest. He meets Jensen's eyes in the mirror with a flash of fear that makes Jensen change gears, go from snark to damage control in a split-second.
"It's okay, it's okay," Jensen says in a soft, reassuring tone and takes a shuffling step toward Jared, painfully aware of the way his own thickening cock pushes at the front of his shorts. Jared's aware of it as well, if the way his eyes drop down to Jensen's crotch is anything to go by, and that's okay too. Jared's in lingerie and Jensen's got a hard-on and it's kinda put them on equal ground. “I’m sorry. I thought this was Jeff’s room.”
“Not anymore,” Jared says. He tightens his arms around his chest and glances past Jensen's shoulder. "Wait a minute—are they?"
"No," Jensen says quickly. "It's just me. You're safe." He takes Jared by the wrists, notices how Jared's hands tremble and how his skin runs hot under Jensen's touch. After a little urging, Jared finally lets Jensen push his arms down to hang at his sides. Jared might have been very badly shocked, but he's recovering quick, a dare in the curious tilt of his head and the thin line of his mouth, like he knows the kind of effect he's having on Jensen and wants to see more of it.
A few weeks short of seventeen and Jared's taller than Jensen now, wide across the chest, skinny at the hips and Jensen needs to tip his chin up slightly to get on Jared's level. The viewpoint is new and strange and Jensen likes it. A lot.
At school, Jensen haunts his share of gay bars, has seen the ladies parade across the stage on drag night, and while he can appreciate the effort involved in the transformation, it's never really been his thing. He prefers his guys to be guys, likes the feel of rough hands and the scuff of stubble on his skin. But something about Jared is fascinating in this moment, something that is intensely masculine and feminine at the same time, straddling the line.
"How long—" Jensen starts, but he's not really sure where to go from there. His thoughts are jumbled, his skin feels too tight, and he wants to touch Jared, feel the place where the corset nips in at Jared's waist, constricts his chest and creates a hint of cleavage where there shouldn't be any.
"It's new," Jared fills in the blanks for him, and waves at a box beside the bed, open and surrounded by torn, nondescript brown paper. "I'm okay," he goes on, "it's not like I feel like I was born inside the wrong skin or anything." He runs his hands down the front of the corset, tugs on it until the upper edge of it rests right at the line of his nipples. "I like my body the way it is, and I also like the idea that I can change it. A little nip here, a little tuck there."
"I like it too." And there goes Jensen's wicked, traitorous tongue again, all of his good intentions set in a collision course, crashing against the need that's building in his gut. "Here, let me help."
Jared turns to the mirror again. "I think I double knotted it," he starts, then gasps, startled as Jensen's fingers skip up along the laces, not loosening them but pulling them tighter.
"How does it feel? Too tight?"
Jared shifts backward with each pull, spreads his legs and grabs the edge of the closet door to steady himself. "You could make it tighter."
"Breathe out," Jensen says, and waits until Jared's lungs deflate before tugging harder, until the edges of the corset almost meet, only a sliver of Jared's spine visible. It makes Jared arch his back and roll his hips up, the backward momentum causing his ass to rub against Jensen's crotch. Jensen could call the first time it happens an accident, but the second, third and fourth can't be anything but intentional.
Once finished, Jensen runs his hands down the rigid boning at Jared's sides, down his ribs to his waist and tests the span of it, just to see how far around he can wrap his fingers, then moves even further along the artificial flare of his hips. He inches around to Jared's stomach and upward to his chest to feel the slight rise and fall of Jared's shallow breaths.
Jared straightens, his back flush against Jensen's chest, intimate and trusting and so, so close, holding Jensen's gaze in the mirror and swaying slightly back and forth, keeping up a light devastating friction on Jensen's cock. He criss-crosses his arms over his head and stretches, testing the limits of his motion. He's hard now, his cock an obvious bulge in his sheer panties, a darker wet spot seeping through the front of them.
"I think about you," Jared confides. "All the time, ever since my brother told me you were..." He trails off, but he doesn't stop the slow shift of his hips.
"You can say it. It's not a dirty word and I'm not ashamed."
"Ever since he told me you were gay. Can't get you out of my head."
"Have you ever kissed a boy, Jared?" His hands are still restless on Jared's stomach, moving lower to curl under the bottom edge of the corset.
Jared blushes and shakes his head. He still doesn't drop his gaze, however, and Jensen feels a flash of heat, a furnace blast wash over his entire body.
"Do you want to kiss a boy?" Jensen concentrates on Jared's throat work as he swallows, feels it all over as Jared shivers.
"Yeah," Jared says on a sigh. He licks his lips, a cloying little flick of his pretty pink tongue. "Yes. Yes," he repeats, more definite this time.
Jared turns to face him, loops his arms loosely around Jensen's neck, and it's almost like they're dancing at some high school homecoming, slow shuffle of feet and so very careful as Jensen traces the hollows beneath Jared's eyes, buries his fingers in Jared's hair and kisses him. Jensen lets his mouth linger, unhurried.
It should be weird, awkward but it isn't. They've known each other for ages. And when Jared licks at Jensen's lips and slides his tongue in, that's not weird either. It breaks Jensen's heart with its shy sweetness, puts it right back together again a few seconds later as Jared figures it out and angles in, sucks Jensen's tongue into his mouth and lets Jensen feel his teeth.
Jensen pulls him snug against his chest, palms at Jared's ass and yanks at Jared's panties until he finds bare skin, soft and pliant and a stark contrast to the hard curves of Jared's corset.
"I'm glad it's you," Jared says, a raspy little whisper in Jensen's ear that makes Jensen pause.
A shard of guilt cuts sharp through everything else, and Jensen says, "You shouldn't be."
Jared buries his face in Jensen's neck, nuzzles him and now it's his turn to paw at Jensen's ass. "Why?" Jared asks, falsely innocent. "It's gonna happen eventually, and I've always wanted it to be you. You're safe. You said so yourself. And I'm not ashamed."
It's a trick, as dirty as sin and just as effective. With a wrenched out groan, Jensen spins him around, nudges his legs until Jared gets the hint and spreads them wide. He coaxes Jared to bend at the hips, and the inflexibility of the corset doubled with the position makes Jared catch his balance on the wall, fingers spread on either side of the mirror, makes him tip his ass up and put himself on display.
The sight is pure pornography in the flesh, and when Jensen slips Jared's panties down to his thighs, exposes the tight curve of his ass and watches Jared's cock spring free to slap against his stomach it gets even better.
"Top drawer of the desk," Jared says.
"Sneaky fucker," Jensen teases as he opens it to find a bottle of lube hidden in the back.
"Not sneaky. Hopeful," Jared corrects him, and licks his lips while Jensen peels his shirt over his head.
The bottle is only a third full. He pours a tiny drizzle onto Jared's skin and tracks it as it drips downward to coat the crack of Jared's ass. "Tell me, Jared. How many fingers?" His own fingers follow the trail of lube and he gets off on how Jared bucks at his first touch against the tight clench of his rim.
"Two," Jared admits. "Almost made it to three once, but then I…" He trails off, but Jensen gets it. He's nearly there himself, just from the picture of Jared spread out on his bed, all the lights off and the whole house asleep, trying to keep quiet while he fucks himself open on his own fingers.
"So this should be easy for you," Jensen says, slides one finger in and keeps it there.
Jared's body is searing hot, a vice around Jensen's finger and what's left of Jensen willpower starts to dismantle. Jensen pushes his shirt up under his arms and falls onto Jared's back, hard and steady as a strut, the material of the corset rough on his oversensitive skin. He kisses the back of Jared's neck, breathes in the clean, warm smell of his skin until Jared grows anxious beneath him, starts to hitch his hips and force Jensen's finger deeper. He drips more slick on Jared's hole and earns delicious moan from Jared when he adds another finger, works them in and out with a turn of his wrist, and by the time he adds a third, Jared's trying to climb the wall, a mass of twisting muscles and soft, pleading moans.
"That's what three feels like," Jensen tells him, one arm looped around Jared's middle to keep him in place. "Do you like it?"
"Fuck. S'good," Jared says, follows it up with a low groan. "What else you got?"
Now it's Jensen's turn to moan. "Not a lot if you keep that up." Jensen kicks off his pants and has to squeeze his cock at the base. He starts toward the desk but Jared pulls him up short.
"No. Just you and me."
"Jared, that's not a—"
"You're the first," Jared says, locking Jensen down with his stare. "And you've been safe, right?"
"Of course, but—"
"You and me. That's all."
It's the mother of lousy calls, but Jared's looking at him that way, gorgeous and determined and trusting through and through, and when it comes right down to it, there's nothing Jensen wouldn't do for this kid. There's nothing in the world he wouldn't do.
Jensen slicks himself up, squeezes the bottle too hard with hands that are suddenly unreliable and cashes it out. He kicks Jared's feet wide again and slips his cock along the crack of Jared's ass with a few shallow thrusts, the head of his cock nudging against Jared's rim. Jared bears down, hisses as Jensen presses past the too-tight resistance and grows still.
"C'mon, Jared, let me in. Goddamn, you feel so good." Jensen pulls at Jared's hips, hooks his thumbs into the laces of the corset and feels it the instant Jared relaxes, opens up and lets him sink in fully, his hips flush against Jared's ass.
Jensen's knees are shaky and the floor seems very far away. There's a perfectly good bed behind them but watching Jared's reaction in the mirror is an opportunity too good to pass up. Every swivel of Jensen's hips hits Jensen hard and hits Jared even harder. His mouth drops open, his eyes open wide in surprise and his lungs fight against the corset, body pushing against the restraint of it, struggling to draw in more air as Jensen fucks into him deeper and deeper.
Jared's cock hangs swollen and wet between his legs, bouncing every time Jensen slams into him. Jensen takes it in his fist, tries to time it with his own thrusts and never quite makes it, all wrapped up in the heat of it, how it pulses in his hand and the sound of Jared's wrecked whimpers. It only takes a few quick tugs before Jared shoots all over his hand, leaves streaky spatters on the mirror.
Jared's hands are bunched into fists against the wall and he pries one away to circle it around Jensen's wrist. His whole body is shivering and his skin is shiny with sweat. His eyes can't seem to fix on any one spot and he can't take a full breath, but he sucks two of Jensen's fingers into his mouth anyway, tongue working small miracles as he licks his own spunk from Jensen's hand, flattening it out to catch a fat drop of it as it slides down the underside of Jensen's wrist.
Jensen grinds into him, pushes in as far as he can go and still tries to go deeper, fetches Jared into his arms and runs them both against the wall. His balls are throbbing, he can feel his heartbeat everywhere, in the tips of his fingers and in his toes and in his cock.
Jared's clamped down tight on him, his leverage for shit but still squirming against Jensen, trying to draw him in further and hold him there, and when Jensen's orgasm hits and he tries to pull out, his hands fly back to Jensen's hips and latch on implacably.
"Stay right here," Jared says, muffled with his face smashed against the mirror. "Don't go."
Jared tries to kiss him through it and they wind up breathing into each other's mouths, licking at each other's lips all crooked and sideways as Jensen shutters through his orgasm, hips rocking until he can feel his spunk dripping from Jared's body to coat his balls and the backs of Jared's thighs.
Jensen's pants are on the floor, kicked mostly under the bed. His phone starts to vibrate from the back pocket, the racket of it abruptly loud.
"You should…they might come home," Jared says, and winces when Jensen pulls out.
Jensen's fingers feel numb, still slippery from lube and come and Jared's spit as they fumble with Jared's knots, and he gets another thrill at Jared's soft, relieved sigh once the pressure is released.
Jared turns to him and hugs him tightly, arms a strict band around Jensen's chest, and now Jensen's the one who can't manage a deep breath.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Jensen says, weaving their fingers together and heading for the hallway.
Jared trails behind him, close to his back. When he whispers in Jensen's ear, he sounds so young. "Don't tell anyone. Not yet."
"Of course." Jensen's good at keeping secrets. He held onto his for years and years. He can hold onto Jared's for however long it takes.
Thanks for reading.