an agent of the random (riyku) wrote,
an agent of the random

fic: kneel right down and pray for you

Happy Mardi Gras y'all! Lassiez les bon temp rouler!

So this fic kinda suddenly happened, after eating my fill of pancakes and drinking my fill of hurricanes. There is a warning which I am both compelled and obligated to share with you, although I really hope you guys will just roll with me on this without looking at it, since the warning is a complete and utter spoiler, and knowing it is likely to ruin the fic for you. Click on it if you must:[Be Ye Warned]priest!kink. There's also sex in a public place, which isn't as nasty of a spoiler, but there you have it..

Moving on:

Title: kneel right down and pray for you
Genre: J2 AU
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,900
Notes: For flawlessglitch for many and various reasons.  Title courtesy of 16 Horsepower.

Summary: Sometimes Jared gets this itch, and he's left with no choice but to scratch it.

Jared doesn't come here often. Most of the time, he sticks to the straight and narrow, heavy emphasis on the straight. He works his nine-to-five, holds doors open for strangers, keeps his head down, his mouth shut, goes to church every Sunday and twice on Easter. But sometimes he gets this itch. He tries to ignore it, even as it builds and builds, and it's not long before his skin starts to feel a little too tight, his temper a little too short, and Jared's left with no choice but to peg it for what it is. Dig his nails in and scratch.

The place is called Heaven, the sign over the door says so in big, sky-blue neon letters that always make Jared smile at the irony. Inside it's dark and loud, a low bass line pumping through the speakers that rattles the fillings in Jared's back teeth. Jared's nose flares at the smell of the place; too much testosterone, warm skin, sweat and a hundred different kinds of liquor.

He forces his way up to the bar, orders a double from a bartender wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a movie-star smile. Jared downs it in one long swallow and shakes his head when the bartender asks him if he wants another. He doesn't need to get drunk, just wants to take the edge off.

A guy squeezes in next to Jared. The top of his head barely makes it up to Jared's shoulder, he's small and slim and a little too cute for Jared's taste. A bit too effeminate, too, in his delicate movements and the swish of his hip until it's notched against Jared's crotch, the demure way he looks Jared up and down with eyes smudged with eyeliner, and the soft, sibilant sound of his speech when he rises up on his tiptoes to ask Jared if he wants another drink. Jared considers him for a second, thinks about how easy it would be to bend this kid anyway he wanted him, how small, light and pliant he'd be, before offering the guy an apologetic smile.

He doesn't have anything against him, to each his own and all that, but if Jared wants to fuck around with someone who reminds him of a girl, then he'd find a girl to fuck around with. What he wants right now is a set of strong hands on him, the rough scratch of stubble against his palm, a pretty, willing mouth and a tongue that knows a few tricks of its own.

A hallway at the back runs the length of the bar, theoretically an emergency exit and separated from the rest of the open room by a flimsy curtain and a bouncer who's little more than window dressing. It's also why Jared keeps showing up here. Jared slides past him and into the hallway, eyes adjusting to the dim blue light coming from the exit sign. The smell of sweat is thicker here, more pervasive. People shift and squirm, the whole scene made surreal by the blue tinted light that renders their skin pale and lengthens their shadows.

Jared walks down the center, careful to not let his sight stray too long on any one spot. A man leans against the wall, head thrown back and arms wrapped around two other guys who look so similar that they could be brothers, or maybe twins, both of them licking and kissing along his neck, and Jared feels his cock twitch against his thigh. He'll have to remember that for later.

Jared turns a corner and pauses. Beside him, another stranger reaches out, fingers stumbling along Jared's forearm as he fucks with clumsy thrusts into some guy's mouth. Jared's distracted though, caught very much off guard, and mumbles, "You wish," to the guy before slowly creeping forward, curiosity burning a hole through his better judgement.

There's a man at the far end of the hall, and something about him sparks a hint of familiarity to Jared. It could be the slope of his shoulders, thinly concealed beneath a black t-shirt, or the angle of his jaw as he tips his head to the side to make room for the man kissing his throat, or it could be the shape of his hands, the graceful way his fingers move as they tangle into the guys hair.

Jared's stuck for a matter of seconds, trying to puzzle it out, staring long enough for the man at the end of the hall to take notice of him. He straightens up, locks his gaze on Jared and recognition slams into Jared, as definite and violent as a thunderclap. His heart jams in his throat and his stomach hits the deck. Earlier this evening, while Jared had been changing into his best pair of jeans and his favorite button down--the one that hugs his chest and sets off his tanned skin--he'd been hell bent on nothing more than getting some anonymous guy to suck him off in the back room of some anonymous joint. He'd been looking from something easy, something harmless and guilt-free, and now he's stepped in it. Fucking jumped in it with both feet and at this point he's sinking fast.

The guy whispers into his partner's ear and nudges him away, but he never tears his eyes from Jared. He starts toward Jared, back straight and head cocked to the side, an amused arch to his eyebrow and twist to his mouth. He's moving slow, straight up sauntering, grin starting to spread across his face.

"Holy--" Jared starts once the guy is a couple of feet away and inexorably closing in.

"Jensen," he interrupts. "Here, I'm just Jensen. Got it?"

Mutely, Jared nods. Fuck, Jared has always known Jensen is hot, about as off limits as a person could get, but still hot. Out of context he's a hundred times hotter, his skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, tight black shirt that's more a technicality than something that's made to cover him up, all of this topped off with a sort of confidence that pours off of him in waves.

"Can you keep a secret?" Jensen says, deep and drawling, voice thick as honey and just as cloying. When Jared doesn't answer, Jensen answers for him, musing. "I suppose you can. Never thought I'd see you here, after all." He hooks his finger into Jared's collar and starts backing up, pulling Jared along with him until his back is against the corner, and then he yanks Jared in further still, loops his arms in a loose ring around Jared's neck and leans in close. He starts in on a slight sway, timed to the beat of the music in the other room, fractional shifts against Jared's chest, their hips slotted together. Nothing heavy yet, but getting there fast.

Closer still, and now Jensen's short, spiky hair tickles Jared's cheek. Jensen whispers, "I've noticed you. You don't think that I have, but I have. I've paid attention." Jensen nuzzles into Jared's throat, the fingers of one hand sneaking under Jared's collar as his other hand pushes up into Jared's hair, fitting wide and possessive along the back of Jared's skull.

"Can I keep you, Jared?" Jensen asks. "Do you wanna be my secret?" The sound of his name falling from Jensen's mouth is electrifying, as if the purr of it might carry all the promises of heaven. Jared's done for, stupid and reckless with want, suddenly weak-kneed and dizzy, so hard it hurts. His hips buck up and he rubs right against Jensen, hot line of their cocks rolling together and it's then Jared realizes that Jensen is just as hard as he is, wants him just as much. The thought makes Jared stagger a step forward and allows Jensen to slip a thigh between his, a perfect amount of pressure along Jared's crotch. Not too much and not too little, any more might make Jared explode, finish before they've had the chance to really start.

"Yeah," Jared answers, and clamps down on Jensen's hips to steady himself. "Can I--" Jared stutters to a stop, licks his lips and tries again. "Can I kiss you?" Ten years and this is the first time he's ever asked another man for this, the very first time he's ever wanted to. Ten years of shoving his cock down other men's throats, of riding them fast and dirty in backrooms and bathrooms all over this city and Jared's never before felt the urge to find out what they taste like.

Jensen laughs against Jared's throat. "I have a feeling that a little kiss is gonna be the least of our sins," he says, then tightens his fist in Jared's hair and holds him in a very specific way. He presses their mouths together, soft, dry and gentle and completely incongruous with the insistent push of his thigh along Jared's cock. Jensen backs off, eyes swimming for a second before they latch onto Jared's. "You good?"

"Absolutely," Jared tells him and kisses Jensen in earnest this time, laps at the taste of liquor in Jensen's mouth until all traces of it are gone and just the taste of Jensen remains, pure and wholly intoxicating. Jensen gives as good as he gets, nips at Jared's lips, moans into his mouth and moves his body against Jared's in an easy, sinuous slide.

Somehow, Jared manages to get a sliver of space between them and sinks to his knees on the cold concrete floor.

"Yeah, Jared. Yes," Jensen says, looking down at him with a beautiful, almost benevolent smile and canting his hips forward, bracing his shoulders on the wall. Jared opens his mouth on the front of Jensen's jeans and breathes in deep through his nose, scenting him, trying to commit to memory the deep smell of Jensen's cock. Jensen buries a hand in Jared's hair and holds him steady as he rolls his hips again, rubbing off against Jared's mouth.

"Want you," Jensen mumbles, wanton and wrecked. "Wanna come down your throat. Feel you everywhere." He fumbles with his belt and his fly, hardly manages to shove his jeans down past his hips and then Jared's got a face full of Jensen's dick, hard and flushed dark red, the head of it wet, clear beads of precome glistening at the tip. It's perfect, gorgeous, lightly veined and curling toward Jensen's stomach. Jensen grips himself at the base, taps his cock gently against Jared's bottom lip, urging him to open up and Jared complies, sucks just the head inside and digs his tongue into the slit, feels a flood of precome hit his tongue. It's hot and slick, salty with sweat and precome and Jared immediately can't get enough, takes Jensen in deeper until his gag reflex kicks in and then pulls off with a startled gasp.

"I'm usually on the receiving end," Jared says, resting his forehead on Jensen's thigh and buying time as he catches his breath. He skates his palm along his own cock, keenly aware of the dampness bleeding through his boxers and jeans, squeezes the bulge of it, frantically trying to ease the needy throb.

"Of course you are," Jensen tells him. "Relax. Let me."

He feeds his cock into Jared's mouth again, hissing as Jared seals his lips around the length of it and sucks, then starts to move in shallow thrusts, fucking into Jared's mouth a fraction deeper every time. His thighs tremble beneath Jared's hands, and the muscles of his stomach are clenched taut, his whole body pulled tight against the need to slam into Jared's mouth. His cock feels huge inside of Jared's mouth, invasive, rock hard beneath silky soft skin. The last thin thread of control Jared has unravels and he opens his throat, relaxes his jaw and flattens his tongue along the underside of Jensen's cock. Grappling onto Jensen's hips, Jared bobs forward, lets Jensen fill him completely, nudge at the back of his throat.

Filth spills from Jensen's mouth, punctuated by dirty, breathy groans. He pulls back, shifts his hips and now he's fucking against the slippery roof of Jared's mouth, brushing along the inside of his cheek as he reaches down to feel the shape of his cock inside Jared's mouth, touching Jared's lips at the place where they're joined.

"Can I? God, Jared you gotta let me," Jensen grits out, fragmented, and Jared can only hum around the thickness of Jensen's cock, hold on tighter to Jensen's waist and ride it out. Jensen's body jumps forward, and Jared didn't know it was possible, but Jensen's cock grows harder still, hotter, and then he's sliding down Jared's throat, as far as he can go. His rhythm falters as he shudders through his orgasm, come scorching down Jared's throat and flooding his mouth.

Jared can't breath, he can hardly see and can't think at all, so caught up in the sensation of Jensen pulsing inside of him and the obscene noises he's making. Jared's face is sloppy with spit and spunk, spilling from his mouth and dripping down his chin, and he's trying to drag in enormous gulps of air through his wasted throat. He's scattered, strung out and dazed, doesn't have the time to get a clear handle on gravity before Jensen yanks him to his feet and gets his fingers on Jared's belt.

With startling efficiency, Jensen pulls Jared's dick through the slit in his shorts, spits in his palm and jacks him from base to tip, and Jared thinks he might sob with relief. He's close, has been ready to blow since he first laid eyes on Jensen, and goddamnit Jensen's good at this. Really fucking good. Heavy handed and sure, running his fist up and down Jared's shaft in a smooth, relentless glide, pressing his thumb into Jared's slit and smearing Jared's precome all over the head, twisting his wrist at every other pass, just the way Jared likes it. He cups Jared's face with his free hand, pries his thumb between Jared's swollen, abused lips and fucks his finger in and out of Jared's mouth for a moment then kisses him, a quick taste of his tongue before licking along Jared's jaw and down his throat.

"You taste like me. I like it," Jensen says, then mouths at Jared's collarbone through his shirt, tongue warm and spit soaking through the thin fabric.

Jared takes him by the hand and kisses his palm, drags his lips down to kiss his wrist next, licks at the thin skin there and feels Jensen's pulse flutter against his tongue. He decides he likes it, that vital feeling of Jensen's heartbeat and he concentrates on that spot as he hitches his hips into Jensen's fist, crashing into his orgasm head on. Three more pumps of his hips and he comes hard, biting into Jensen's wrist to stifle his hoarse shout.

Jensen jerks him through the aftershocks, whispering in his ear. "I got you. Mine. You're mine now. We have a secret." And Jared wants to wrap him up and take him home, spread him out on his bed and take his time with Jensen, fuck him until they're both so far gone with it and then do it all over again.   It's impossible, a ridiculous daydream but Jared can't let go of the thought.

He's barely gotten his dick back in his pants and his belt latched before Jensen jostles him in for another kiss, rough and bordering on violent, all teeth and tongue with a promise of more to come, then Jensen is ambling past him, weaving a little. With one quick flash of a grin over his shoulder, Jensen says, "I hope to see you tomorrow."

Jared's left panting, blinking at the spot that Jensen had just occupied. "Of course.  Wouldn't miss it," he breathes, but Jensen's already gone.


Jared stands in the center aisle of the church, Sunday morning sunlight refracting through the towering stained glass windows on either side. His hands shake and his head feels numb, like his brain has been scooped out and replaced with cotton. He keeps his sight glued to his feet, shuffling forward as the line for communion moves quickly toward the altar. Only when he's kneeling on the long, velvet covered bench before the priest does he finally look up, his eyes snagging on the hand holding the tiny round wafer in front of him. The priest says something, but Jared's thoughts are too far away to recognize it. The priest's sleeve has ridden up the smallest amount and Jared can't help but stare. Three miniscule bruises, not noticeable at all unless Jared was looking for them. They could be anything, but Jared recognizes them right away. Teeth marks. His.

Jensen bends down low, and his smooth jaw brushes against Jared's when he whispers, "I like it when you're on your knees."

Jared's heart lurches in his chest and he fixes Jensen with a stare. "Amen," he says. He opens his mouth and Jensen slips the Eucharist onto his tongue. Jared pushes it against the roof of his mouth as he rises, and feels it break in half.


Thanks for reading.

ETA:  the incredibly talented and mind-blowingly generous mashimero has given us all the gift of art inspired by this fic: All the Love Up In Heaven.  Go forth!  It's beautiful.

Tags: fic: j2, rated: nc-17
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