Genre: Jared/Jensen Highschool AU
Word Count: 5,000
Notes: Written for this prompt at the spn_hardcore first time and virginity comment fic fest. Also, my one-sided love affair with Siken appears to be showing.
Warnings for underage. Also schmoop. Plus sex. And schmoopy sex. Forgive me, guys, I've indulged.
Summary: Jensen's got a reputation to uphold. When a new guy shows up at school and won't spare him a second glance, Jensen sees it as a challenge. It gets a little complicated when Jensen finds out he might sort of like the guy.
“You never know. He could be living some sort of kinky double life or something.” Jensen sits on a picnic table outside of school, his feet propped on the bench, the noontime sun beating down on his shoulders.
“Unlikely,” Mike says, bending toward Jensen as he sneaks a cigarette between classes. “I think I’ve only ever heard the guy talk once, and I have two classes with him. It’s been more than a month since he showed up, and he’s always by himself.”
Jensen stares across the quad at the new guy. He’s tall, all high cheekbones and angular jaw lines, has a body like you wouldn’t believe. His long, dark mop of hair curls around his ears and spills across his eyes as he turns the pages of a thin book. He’s in the shade, his back leaning against the trunk of a tree. Jensen follows the gentle curve of his stomach down to his hips, and runs a thoughtful thumb along his bottom lip. “Look at him. You can’t tell me that someone hasn’t tried to jump him.”
“Not that I’ve heard, and if it was happening, I would’ve heard about it.” Mike would know, he collects gossip like some kids collect comic books. “Besides, he hardly makes eye contact with anybody.”
That’s a big part of the problem. Jensen’s used to attention, used to drawing appreciative looks from guys and girls alike at school. Hell, he’s even caught teachers looking away a little too quickly sometimes. Not Jared, though. It isn’t as if he doesn’t work at it, trying to strike up conversations and getting only mumbles in response, changing his route to class so that their paths cross a little more often, or tossing the football around with Chris or Mike in the grassy patch in front of the tree where Jared always hunkers down to read.
“Maybe he’s asexual?” Mike offers, crushing his smoke under the heel of his shoe.
“Fuck, no. With a body like that?” Jensen says dubiously.
“He’s resisted you, hasn’t he? Shit, I can barely do that, and I don’t even swing that way,” Mike points out.
“Obviously, I just need to try harder.”
Cockiness and swagger are Jensen’s default settings, but he has an idea that those things won’t work in Jared’s case. He needs to go with a different tactic.
Jared’s in his usual spot for lunch, sitting cross-legged under the tree, chewing absently on an apple as he reads.
“Hey. Hi,” Jensen says, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Jared jumps, sputters for a second as he looks up at Jensen. The book slides off his knee, and he grabs it quickly, shoving it under his leg. Jensen watches the movement in his throat when Jared swallows hard. “Hi,” Jared answers, and his voice sounds rough, like a rusty door that doesn’t get opened too often.
“You mind if I sit with you?” Jensen asks.
Jared nods, sitting up a little straighter and resting his elbows on his knees. He can barely look at Jensen, keeps shooting him these furtive little glances.
“Mike says you’re good at math. He’s in your calc class,” he clarifies when Jared makes a doubtful expression, “and I’m a little close to flunking trig. Well, it’s just about killing me actually.”
“I’ve heard that the unit circle has been outlawed in seven countries,” Jared cuts in, “the death rate is astounding.”
Sure, it’s geek humor, but it catches Jensen off guard. He snorts out a completely unsexy laugh, surprising himself. When Jared grins back at him, Jensen’s suddenly glad that he’s sitting down, if the tremble in his knees is anything to go by. The kid’s got a beautiful smile, shockingly wide and dimpled. “Do you think you could help me? I’ve got a test in a few days. It’s a huge part of my grade. Maybe you could help me cram?”
“Sure.” Jared shrugs, and Jensen does this little internal victory dance.
“I’ve got practice at five, meet me outside the gym afterward?”
“Sure,” Jared repeats, the smallest hint of a smile on his face.
Practice drags on for an eternity. Jensen skips his shower and changes out of his practice uniform as fast as possible, dodging questions from his friends on the team.
As promised, Jared is waiting for him on a bench outside the building, nervously chewing on a thumbnail and watching the doors to the gym like a hawk. He looks away when Jensen emerges.
“I stink,” Jensen says in greeting, pulling his shirt away from his chest.
“I don’t mind.”
Jared is quiet on the drive back to Jensen’s place, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt and looking out the window. Jensen makes up for it with rambling, talks about football and math, and how hard it is to maintain a decent GPA with all the torture their coach puts them through.
They get to his house, and spread out on the living room floor, books and papers and calculators cluttering the low coffee table in the center. Jared shows him where he went wrong in older trig tests, and teaches him little cheats that are built into his calculator. Jensen tries not to flirt too openly, gets distracted by the rub of Jared’s shoulder against his own, and all the times their fingers accidentally brush together. He can barely get past the constant low purr of Jared’s voice.
Jared’s working through a problem, showing him a shortcut to double check his work. “It’s the fast and dirty way of doing it,” he says, “but it gets the job done.”
Jensen has to jerk away to stop himself from latching onto Jared’s neck right then and there.
Jensen rushes up behind Jared in the hallway, slings an arm around his neck and presses his test to Jared’s chest. “You did it,” he announces.
Jared turns it over, frowns appreciatively at the red ‘B’ emblazoned on the top of the paper. “No, you did it,” he insists.
“Trust me, this one’s on you.”
Jensen leans up against the painted cinderblock wall, propping an elbow on it and canting his hips. The hallway is crowded, clogged with kids making Friday night plans. Two girls walk by, all shy smiles as they elbow each other in the ribs.
“That happens a lot around you.” Jared stares at the girls rushing down the hall. “People always look at you.”
“Guess so, yeah. It doesn’t matter.” Jensen tries to shrug it off. “I’m looking at you.”
A slow flush starts at Jared’s neck, creeping up on its way to his face. He self-consciously pushes his hair off of his forehead, clears his throat.
“Listen,” Jensen says, trying to set Jared at ease, “you wanna hang out? Maybe get some pizza? It’s the least I can do to repay you. I’ll pick you up tonight?”
“Sounds good,” Jared says slowly, fidgeting with the strap on his backpack.
“It’s a date, then.” Jensen claps Jared on the shoulder.
“A date?” The question comes out of Jared’s throat almost as a squawk.
Jensen suppresses a laugh. “Or you can call it a down payment for the next time I have to take a test. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
Jared’s back to staring at his feet, and scuffing his shoe along the dusty linoleum floor. On impulse, Jensen rises up on the balls of his feet, presses a quick kiss to Jared’s cheek, and starts to dash down the hall. He glances over his shoulder, his heart jumping in his chest when he sees Jared pressing his fingers to the spot on his face.
Jensen arrives at Jared’s apartment, knocking on the door at a little past eight. Jared answers a few quick seconds later, and a picture pops into Jensen’s head of Jared waiting on the other side of the door for the last half an hour.
Jared’s hair is still damp, brushed back from his face. He has a decent shirt on, tucked into what is probably his best pair of jeans. He smells like aftershave. He’s this odd combination of sexy as hell and completely fucking adorable.
Opening the door wider in invitation, he leads Jensen to his room, where Jared starts looking for his wallet.
Barren is perhaps the best word to describe Jared’s room. There’s a narrow bed pushed against one wall, a half-full bookshelf on the other, and a desk in the corner. The walls are blank, painted a generic off-white color. Completely absent are the usually trappings of a teenaged guy: games, a stereo, posters, photos of friends. “Are you still moving in?” Jensen asks.
“I’m always moving in,” Jared replies, finding his wallet in his desk drawer and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Three towns in two years. You learn to get rid of what you don’t need.”
Jensen takes them to his favorite pizza joint in town, and flirts harmlessly with a waitress who’s almost old enough to be his mother. Jared talks about all the places he’s lived in the past few years, his father’s sales job keeping them on the move, and Jensen counters that with tales of how stifling it is to live in a town where everybody knows your name.
There’s a minor scuffle when the tab comes, but a swift kick from Jensen underneath the table puts an end to it.
It’s still fairly early when Jensen pulls into the parking lot in front of Jared’s building. Jensen’s not really sure where to go from here, most of his dates have ended with him tangled up in the back seat somewhere, sweaty and fogging up the windows with some random guy or girl. This thing with Jared has put him in unmapped territory.
“We could go somewhere,” Jensen suggests. “If you don’t want to go home yet.”
Jared is picking at his fingernails. “I’ve got some reading to catch up on,” he says, distracted.
“What is that book you’re always reading, anyhow?” Jensen asks impulsively. “The one with the torn off cover.”
Jared evades an answer by getting out of the car and leaning against the hood. “Is this a date?” he asks when Jensen joins him.
Jensen slides in close, hips and thighs touching, gets a thrill when Jared doesn’t move away. “Do you want it to be?”
“I didn’t know you were into…” Jared trails off, squinting up at a light post.
“Into guys?” Jensen finishes for him. “I kinda keep my options open.”
“Not that,” Jared scoffs. “I didn’t know that you were into me.”
“Well, now you do.”
Jared starts talking in a rush. “I’ve never been on a date before, and I...I don’t really know where to go from here. What to do, and now I feel like a complete moron, and the biggest kind of socially awkward loser, because you’ve got it all together and you’re so confident.”
Jensen has some trouble keeping up. He latches on to one thought. “You’ve never kissed anyone.”
Jared laughs, this anxious little tittering sound. He shakes his head.
Jensen faces him slowly, wraps his fingers around Jared’s hip and rubs a thumb over the bone there. In the light from the overhead lamps, he can see the flush on Jared’s cheeks, the quick flicker of Jared’s tongue over his bottom lip. He slides his palm along Jared’s neck, heat radiating off of his skin. His hand finds the back of Jared’s head and Jensen gently pulls him down. Jensen presses his lips to Jared’s in a soft, dry kiss, and inches back to look at him. “There. Done. It’s not a thing anymore, okay?”
Jared sort of melts against him, his arms coming up to hook around Jensen’s shoulders. He tips his head forward, his long bangs tickling Jensen’s nose, and then he’s kissing Jensen back, his mouth warm and insistent. Maybe a little clumsy, but that’s a-okay in Jensen’s book. Jensen licks along Jared’s bottom lip, and Jared opens right up, the tips of their tongues tentatively touching. Jared tastes amazing, a little like the peppermint he’d eaten after supper, and Jensen can’t help the soft moan that comes from the back of his throat, vibrating where their mouths meet.
Jared draws him in tight, strong arms pinning them close, chests flush together. Jensen just holds on, legs feeling a little woozy, one hand fisted in the back of Jared’s shirt. He lets Jared control the kiss, goes dizzy over the way Jared angles his head just right and licks into his mouth.
They stand there, still wrapped up tight when Jared breaks free, noses sliding together, and breathing into each other’s mouths. They’re both hard, Jensen can feel the press of Jared’s dick on his hip. “I should go,” Jared says, breathless.
Jensen wants nothing more than to pull Jared right back in. Instead, he laughs, palms his hard-on self-consciously. “Yeah,” he says, his voice cracking some. “Probably best.”
Jared lays a smile on him, does this sideways little shuffle toward the door to his building, like he’s afraid Jensen will simply disappear if he looks away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jensen calls after him.
“God, yes. Please.”
“Spill,” Mike hollers across the quad as Jensen comes closer.
“Definitely a virgin,” Jensen says when he joins Mike at their post on the picnic table, and swears that he can almost see Mike’s ears perk up.
“Elaborate,” Mike commands.
“He hadn’t even been kissed.”
“But he has now.” Mike makes it clear that it’s not a question.
“Looks like it.” Jensen feels a ridiculous, dopey grin spreading on his face and tries to fight it.
“Where have you been, anyway?” Mike asks.
“Busy,” Jensen answers vaguely.
“You missed my party. Everybody was there. Everybody.” Mike puts a heavy emphasis on the last word.
“I had a date. With Jared.”
“That lasted the whole weekend? How many?”
“One, technically, but we spent a lot of time together this weekend.”
“And he’s still a virgin?” Mike says, his voice raising. “You’re slipping, brother.”
“I’m taking my time. There’s a difference.”
“I do believe that Cassanova here may have fallen for his latest conquest,” Mike says in a stage whisper, leaning conspiratorially toward Jensen.
“He’s not a conquest,” Jensen says.
“The root of my original argument still stands.”
“And I’m not falling for him,” Jensen insists, but the words don’t taste right coming out of his mouth. In fact, they taste just plain wrong.
Mike scuffs up Jensen’s hair with his knuckles, and pushes himself off of the bench. “You keep telling yourself that,” he says, heading toward class.
Jensen isn’t very sure why he denied it. It had been more of a knee jerk reaction to disagree with anything Mike had to say.
The lunchroom door pushes open, and Jared stands there, blinking against the sunlight. He spots Jensen, his face splitting into a big grin. There’s this pause to his step, a heartbreaking kind of hesitation before Jensen waves him over.
“I’m such a fucking goner,” Jensen mutters to himself before meeting Jared halfway.
Jensen shouldn’t be doing this. It’s sneaky and he’s not usually a snoop, but he can’t help himself.
He’s flat on his stomach in his bed. A last minute study session with Jared had disintegrated into limited debauchery, and now Jared’s downstairs, rifling through the household’s movie collection. His backpack is sitting open beside the bed, and from this angle Jensen can see the ratty corner of the book that Jared’s always reading. The pages are all dog-eared, most of them have been folded and re-folded a dozen times.
He reaches out, runs a fingernail along the pages, and with a pang of guilt he pulls it out. The cover is long gone, so is the title page. He flips through the pages. It’s nothing he recognizes right away. Jared’s handwriting is all throughout the thing, though, marking passages and in notes scribbled in the margins. He sees a dirty fingerprint on one of the pages, and matches his thumb up to it. A folded piece of notebook paper falls out, and Jensen shoves it back in, hoping that he put it in the right place. Near the end, there are a few lines that tickle his memory, land on a place that’s right on the tip of his tongue.
The sound of Jared’s footsteps start on the bottom of the stairs, and Jensen jumps, quick to slot the book back into his backpack.
Jared slips through the door, puts on the movie and lies down beside him. His fingers find the hem of Jensen’s shirt and slide underneath, teasing the skin at the small of his back, reminding Jensen that he hasn’t gotten laid in weeks, not since this thing with Jared started.
Jared leans in close, slots his leg between Jensen’s and rubs their feet together. He’s a delicious weight, laying partly on Jensen’s back like this. Jensen suppresses a shiver and sinks his hips into the mattress when Jared buries his nose in Jensen’s hair and breathes in deep.
“I know you want to,” Jared says to him. “It’s okay.”
Jensen remembers his first time, in the back of his old man’s pick up truck. It had been a clumsy, awkward thing, two stupid kids just trying to get off. The guy hadn’t even called him afterward. Jensen doesn’t want that for Jared. He can’t stand the thought of just screwing him for the first time on some dumb Thursday in the middle of the afternoon, a random scifi movie on in the background. Jared deserves better than that.
Jensen picks Jared up on Saturday night, and Jesus Christ, but even his hands are shaking. Jensen’s folks are out of town on a weekend vacation, and the house is dark when they get there.
Jared’s back to all of his nervous habits: chewing on his thumb nails, picking at a stray thread on his shirt, brushing his hair out of his eyes repeatedly. Jensen sits in the car, listening to the tick of the engine winding down. He waits, watching Jared.
Jared rubs his palms down his thighs and finally turns to Jensen. “I know that this isn’t a big deal for you.” He sounds so self-effacing, and Jensen feels his heart turn over in his chest. He stays silent and lets Jared go on. “I know you’ve screwed around a lot. People talk.”
“People talk?” Jensen says. He’s surprised, but knows this was bound to come up sooner or later. “You hardly talk to anyone.”
“Yeah, but I listen.” Jared reaches out and scrapes a thumb into the seam of the dashboard. “I guess what I’m saying is that it’s okay. It doesn’t need to be a big deal for you. It’s okay if it isn’t. It doesn’t need to be a thing, you know?”
Jensen swallows hard, feels the dry click in his throat. He’s never been good at this kind of thing. “’You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you,’” Jensen quotes.
The words are no sooner out of his mouth, and Jared is staring at him, a slack-jawed, surprised expression on his face. “How did you know?”
“It’s from that book you’re always reading,” Jensen says, and continues the passage, mentally skipping past a few lines. “’You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling—‘“
Jared cuts him short, continuing the line. “’And you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you.’”
Jensen loses track, he wants to take over where Jared has left off, it seems important somehow, but then Jared’s leaning in close, breath warm on Jensen’s lips. He crashes their mouths together, sucks on Jensen’s bottom lip and then bites down. The small flash of pain shoots straight to Jensen’s dick, and he arches up, knots a fist into Jared’s hair and licks into Jared’s mouth.
Jared reaches down, palms Jensen’s growing hard-on hesitantly, and Jensen cuts the kiss short with a low growl. He licks his lips, closes his eyes tightly and tries to get himself in check. This isn’t about him. It hasn’t been about him for a long time, if it ever really was in the first place.
He gets out of the car on legs that are unsteady. By the time he gets to the passenger side, Jared’s already out, yanking him toward the front door, sucking a mark on the soft skin behind Jensen’s ear. They trip together onto the landing, and Jensen can feel it when Jared smiles against his neck.
Jared hesitates at Jensen’s bedroom door. He’s got his shirt hanging from one wrist, and Jensen’s behind him, an arm snug around Jared’s waist. It’s just a little stutter of a misstep, but Jensen sees it plain as day. He brushes Jared’s long hair away from the back of his neck, pulls Jared backward a little so he can kiss the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. The taste of him makes Jensen groan far back in his throat.
Jared turns in the circle of Jensen's arms and peeks down at him from behind his bangs. “What do you want me to do?” he asks.
“You tell me,” Jensen says, rubbing the small of Jared’s back, dipping his fingers beneath the loose waistband of his jeans. “This is all about you.”
Jensen lifts his arms above his head when Jared peels off his shirt. A shiver runs through his body when Jared touches his chest, thumbs scraping across his nipples. Jensen’s so hard it almost hurts, his dick straining uncomfortably against his jeans. He’s so close, feels like Jared just needs to look at him the right way and he’d blow.
Jared pulls them along, falling backward when his knees hit Jensen’s bed. Jensen’s eyes get drawn to the cut of his hips, the dip of his flat stomach, the fine trail of hair that disappears into the waist of his pants. Jared’s long everywhere, long legs spread wide, long arms stretched above his head, one hand loosely grasping the wrist of the other. His dick is a clear line in his pants, the head peeking out above his belt.
He’s absolutely gorgeous. The most stunning thing that Jensen has ever seen.
Jensen’s fingers feel clumsy against the buttons on his jeans. He kicks them off, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. It’s tough to remember how to breathe when Jared unfastens his own, canting his hips up in a way that’s nothing short of pornographic as he slides them off, and Jensen finds himself transfixed, unable to think or even look away.
“Jensen,” Jared says, his voice thick, “do something.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jensen asks, turning Jared’s question back on him. A grin spreads on his face, and he hopes that it looks only half as wicked as it feels.
“Just get over here.”
Jensen crawls over him, fitting himself between Jared’s legs. The heat from Jared’s skin seeps into his own. Jared’s reaction is immediate. He wraps Jensen tightly in his arms and arches upward, hips coming up to rock against Jensen, their cocks sliding together.
Jared locks his legs around Jensen’s, reaches for him with his mouth, and then they’re kissing again, Jared fucking into him with his tongue, the stutter of his hips growing more and more frantic. “Jensen,” Jared whispers, breathy and quiet, “you have no idea.” His fingers are digging into Jensen’s back in a way that’s sure to leave a mark, his body in a constant strain to get closer, to pull Jensen further in. “Fuck,” Jared gasps, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, his eyes squeezed shut.
Jensen knows Jared’s almost there, right on the edge. He pulls back, the air feeling cold on his damp chest. The need to taste Jared slams into him. It’s urgent, dizzying. “Can I suck you?”
The air leaves Jared’s chest in a whoosh, an almost comical look of surprise painting his face. Jensen reads it as permission and pushes himself downward.
Jared’s cock is hard as hell, wet with precome. His balls are drawn up close to his body, and Jensen takes the weight of them into his hand, gently rolls them between his fingers. He kisses a trail along the soft skin of Jared’s inner thigh, nuzzles into him, the smell of Jared so intense that it sticks to the back of his throat.
Jared’s dick is hot on his tongue when he licks from the root to the tip. He suckles the head, little teasing licks into the slit, gathering the taste of Jared on his tongue and pressing it to the roof of his mouth. He tries to take his time, cheeks hollowing against a slow slide down the length of Jared, but Jared bucks up, gasping, fighting against the arm that Jensen has slung low on his hips. Jared’s dick pulses between his lips, come flooding unexpectedly into Jensen’s mouth. He sputters, pulls off, jacking Jared through it, drops of come spattering his lips, dripping down his chin.
Jared draws his legs up, his feet tucked beneath Jensen’s ribs. In some small corner of Jensen’s head that’s not completely sex-drugged, he notices that Jared’s feet are cold. He moves up the length of Jared’s body, placing a soft kiss to the corner of Jared’s mouth. His fist is still loose around Jared’s half-hard dick, jacking him in a lazy kind of way.
“That was awful,” Jared says, covering his eyes with one huge hand. His face is flushed, sweat plastering the hair at his temples to his head.
“Huh. No one’s ever said that to me before.” Jensen bites down on the inside of his mouth to hide his smile.
“God. No. I didn’t mean--”
“I know what you meant. It’s good, actually. You’ve just taken the edge off. You’ve done us both a favor.” He starts moving against Jared’s hip, rubbing off on the soft, teasing friction between their bodies.
Jared places the flat of his palm on Jensen’s cock, but Jensen shies away. “I’m good,” he says. He’s gained a little bit of control and wants to draw it out. He latches onto Jared’s collarbone with his mouth and worries his teeth along it, sucking a bruise onto Jared’s skin.
Jared lets out a small whine, digging his hips down into the soft mattress. Jensen can feel his cock filling up, slowly getting hard again. He shoots Jensen a dark look when he speaks. “I’ve thought about you,” he begins, grabbing Jensen’s wrist and moving his hand further down. “I’ve wondered what you’d feel like.”
Jensen’s mouth goes instantly dry. His blood starts to pump through him in this heady rush. Jared’s rocking his hips up, their fingers a tangled together mess. “Can you just--” Jared cuts off with a hitched breath when Jensen circles his middle finger around Jared’s hole.
With his heart beating its way into his throat, Jensen chokes out, “Are you sure? You’ve gotta be sure.”
Jared kisses him, sucking Jensen’s tongue into his mouth like he’s starving for it. It’s all the answer that Jensen needs.
“Flip over,” Jensen tells him, diving across the bed to the nightstand, blindly grappling for the lube and condoms stashed in the drawer.
He opens Jared up slowly, too much lube dripping from his hand. Jared breathes in a startled gasp when Jensen adds a second finger beside the first, clenching down on Jensen’s hand and biting down on his own fist. Jensen lets his palm skate up and down the center of Jared’s back, his thumb working soothing circles into Jared’s skin until Jared eases into the sensation, starts rocking his hips in little bursts.
Jensen grabs a hold of his dick at the base squeezes hard, staving off his own orgasm when Jared makes a frustrated sound, reaches behind himself, sliding a finger between Jensen’s. He moves it in and out of his body quicker than Jensen was willing to go, and Jensen needs to look away.
The bed is a wreck, and Jensen digs through the blankets to find a condom. It slips through his slick fingers too many times before Jensen finally rips it open with his teeth. “You can tell me to stop,” Jensen says in a hoarse rush. “If it hurts, or if it’s too much.” Every nerve in his body is jumping to life, his skin tingling, too hot.
It feels like a punch to the chest when Jensen sinks into Jared. Slow. Painfully slow and inch by inch. Jensen makes quiet shushing noises that work as a counterpoint to Jared’s moans, and feels it the instant Jared opens up, relaxes into the feeling.
“God, you feel so good,” Jensen tells him, his hips flush against Jared’s ass, hands planted on the small of Jared’s back. He pulls back, watches Jared’s rim stretch around the head of his cock and thrusts back in again, a little quicker this time, a satisfying sting when their skin slaps together.
Jared sets the rhythm, rocking backward to meet Jensen’s shallow thrusts, a tight, perfect heat surrounding Jensen. Sweat pools in the dip of his spine, catches in the low light. Jensen can’t keep his hands off Jared, he traces along Jared’s rim, the place where their bodies meet, the skin stretched snug around him.
Jared freezes suddenly, panting out ragged breaths, his ribs expanding and contracting. Jensen’s buried only halfway, his whole body telling him to slam in deeper. Instead he fights it, smooths a hand down the center of Jared’s back. “You okay?”
Jared’s face is buried in a pillow, his voice muffled when he speaks. “I want to see you.”
Pulling out with a wince, Jensen settles on his haunches. Jared shifts so he’s sprawled on his back, legs spread obscenely around Jensen’s thighs, his cock flushed and arching toward his belly. Jensen catches himself licking his lips.
“I don’t want it to hurt,” Jensen warns him. “It might hurt.”
“It’s gonna hurt a little no matter what. Just. Please?” He pulls Jensen forward, sealing their mouths together desperately. His legs come up to wrap like a vice around Jensen’s waist, tipping Jensen’s balance, toppling him forward. Jensen slams into him, balls deep and quick. He rocks back out almost all the way, and right back in again, his whole body shivering. Jared tosses his head into the pillow, digs his fingernails into the skin of Jensen’s back. He comes with a jolt, pulsing sticky and hot between their stomachs.
Jensen can feel it, the way Jared locks down tight on his cock when he comes. It makes his toes curl, a shockwave spiraling down low. Jared writhes underneath him, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. He buries a hand in Jensen’s hair, forcing eye contact. He smiles, and that’s it. Jensen thrusts hard, his hips snapping forward to bury himself deep inside of Jared. His vision brightens around the edges and he’s coming hard.
He collapses, arms giving out and every muscle in his body slightly trembling. He brushes Jared’s hair away from his forehead, shivers when Jared scraps his nails gently down Jensen’s back.
Jensen knows he should move, get them cleaned up. But Jared’s still wrapped all around him, and he smells so good, messy and sweaty. It can wait.
Jared blinks, and Jensen can almost see the fog in his expression burning off, leaving a sort of startling clarity in its wake. “Hold on,” Jared starts, “you went through my stuff? You read my book?”
Jensen buries his face in Jared’s neck. “You were always reading it. I wanted you to look at me instead.” His face feels hot.
“You wanted me to look at you? Jesus, don’t you see? I can barely look away.”
Thanks very much for reading.
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