Title: for keeps
Genre: J2 AU
Rating: eh, let's call it R for wee bit of heavy groping.
Word count: 450
Notes: just a teensy timestamp for Love Letters.
Every. Fucking. Single. Thing. Every. Fucking. Time. Jared writes it down on separate gum wrappers, one word on each in hectic, too large letters because that's how his heart feels when he thinks about Jensen, like it's racing fast and his ribs aren't big enough to hold it. He sticks them in between the pages of Jensen's copy of Hawthorne while Jensen isn't looking, then watches him carefully during class, stares at his hunched back, two seats ahead and one diagonal.
Jensen finds the first one and he picks it up, starts to turn around, an incremental shift in his seat before he thinks better of it. He flips through pages and finds the second then third that's when Jared knows that he gets it. Jensen's shoulders pull close and he rubs at the back of his neck and he understands. Even the tips of Jensen's ears are red and Jared thinks about pressing his mouth to them, how hot they'd feel against his lips.
A minute to go before they're out of this class and Jared's not the only one keeping his eye on the clock. With a few seconds to spare, Jensen pulls out his wallet, slips the gum wrappers into it, checking to make sure that they're flat and smooth and in the correct order.
Jared thinks, for keeps while his blood rushes through his body and the bell rings. It speeds up more when Jensen finally turns to him. His face is lit up with a deep flush but his eyes are dark, stay that way as he pushes Jared along, herds him into the second floor storage closet. Mop buckets and broom handles everywhere, a bare light bulb above their heads that Jared turns on as Jensen jams a stepladder under the handle and kicks it in place.
"Every fucking single thing. Every fucking time," Jensen whispers and latches onto Jared's neck, nips and sucks and Jared wonders why he's always been taught that the flesh is weak when Jensen's hands are so strong on his hips, pulling him closer, lining them up for a fast, hard, steady grind.
"We're gonna be late. Confession," Jared mumbles, but he's already yanking Jensen's shirt free, trying to get at the soft, warm skin of Jensen's back.
"Doesn't matter. I always lie." Jensen spits on his hand and slips it inside of Jared's pants, wraps his fingers tight and so, so fucking good around Jared's cock. "Anyway, my idea of heaven doesn't look anything like theirs. Mine is so much better."
Thanks for reading!