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withimpunityTitle: I'm a Fool For You (Because You're Mine)
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: Adult
Words: ~1678
Pornbattle prompt: Jared/Jensen, belt buckle
Jared’s happy.
Happy he talked Jensen into coming home with him before shooting started again, happy he bought this house outside San Antonio last year, close enough to his parent’s house that he can still drive over for some of his Momma’s corn bread on Sunday evening, happy about nachos and cookies with m and m’s in them, and beer.
“Beer is my favorite.” He holds the bottle of Bud in his fingers, studies it like it holds all of life’s little answers, like why hot dog buns come in eight and hot dogs in packages of ten, or why he finds himself staring at Jensen’s eyelashes when he blinks, which he does a lot when he’s just around the corner to being ass drunk.
They’re sitting in Jared’s living room, one lonely couch the only actual piece of furniture in the room to sit on, wrapped in Johnny’s dulcet tones as they finish off another sixer. Jared’s humming quietly under his breath, still humming around the dark amber glass when he raises it to his mouth, licks his lips before wrapping them around the bottle, finishing off another, he’s lost count at this point.
“You’re trashed,” Jensen drawls and Jared kind of hates him for that, how fucking sober he sounds. How dare he sound so articulate when Jared’s tongue feels like a fat, wet noodle in his mouth and words are like trying to pull teeth. Thing is, Jared knows Jensen. He might sound all there, but he totally isn’t. Jared can tell by the flush of pink that stands out behind the freckles layered thick across his nose and cheeks, the way Jensen drums his fingers against his knee, totally out of rhythm with the music. Mostly its how he keeps chewing on his bottom lip though; Jared watches closely and sometimes, right as Jensen parts his lips to take another drag off his beer, Jared catches a glimpse of bright crimson smeared across his bottom lip. He’s too drunk to notice how this make his pulse race and his heart beat like a bass drum in his chest. The bug zapper hanging off the front porch catches his attention, lighting up bright, electric blue as another yellow jacket bites the dust, and Jared forgets what he was doing.
A sharp clink of glass against metal gets his attention again, heavy lidded eyes dropping to notice Jensen’s empty bottle tapping against his belt buckle, wrist slack and lazy like the rest of his body.
“S’mine.” A grin crawls across Jared’s face as he slips down onto the carpet, moving Jensen’s hand out of the way, knocking his knees apart to crawl between them. “S’good on you,” He slurs, tracing the exaggerated “T” with a long, crooked finger, broken too many times playing basketball in his teens.
“Jay,” Jensen says warningly, long, dark eyelashes falling down in front of his when he blinks, slow and drawn out like everything else when they’re like this, exhausted from the intense Texas heat, humidity, and the warmth of the alcohol crawling through them like poison. “Gettup, dumb ass. You’re drunk as hell.”
“Not that,” Jared argues, and he’s not. Not too drunk that he doesn’t know what he’s doing; not too drunk to remember how he’s been jerking off in the shower the last week and a half, faced pressed against the tile moaning Jensen’s name when he comes.
“M’a fool for you,” Jared sings off-key, under his breath as his fingers trace the letters on his buckle, the one Jensen’s wearing, the one his Daddy gave him when he graduated high school. “Be-cause you’re mine, I walk tha-”
“Sorry to interrupt karaoke hour, but were you plannin’ on sucking my dick anytime tonight?”
Jared makes a sound, it would probably be a growl if he wasn’t half-choking from what Jensen just said to him, curls his fingers around the edges of Jensen’s (his) belt-buckle and tugs, bringing Jensen’s hips to the very edge of the couch cushions.
“Maybe,” he curls his lips into what he hopes looks like a smirk and less like a drooling, horny dog. “You gonna be a pussy ‘bout it in the morning?” His fingers slip from the buckle, lightly tracing the curve of Jensen’s cock, hard and straining beneath dark denim.
“Jared.” Jensen’s voice breaks, reaching down to grip Jared’s wrists, eyes dark and glazed, both from the beer and the hunger swimming inside of him. Then its like someone hits the fast forward button; Jared’s hands and fingers are all working at his belt, tearing away the buckle, fingers tripping over each other as he tries getting Jensen’s zipper down. Jensen’s skin burns where Jared yanks his jeans down roughly, leaving them bunched below his knees, mouthing Jensen’s cock through his boxers before pulling them off his hips too.
Jared looks up, wait’s a beat, but that’s all he’s going to give Jensen. He’s been thinking about this for too damn long, what Jensen would taste like, what his dick would feel like, hot and heavy on his tongue, sweet and bitter; he can’t stop now, not even if Jensen asked him too.
“Oh my God.”
That’s the sound Jensen makes when Jared’s mouth closes over him, cheeks hollowed, lips tight and smooth around the head of his cock. When Jared swipes his tongue across the tip, lapping up drops of salty precome, Jensen’s back arches off the couch and he makes a strained, choking sound in the back of his throat. The noise he makes when Jared takes him deeper, sucks him harder, faster, lets his teeth barely scrape over that delicate skin - that noise isn’t something Jared can describe; he just knows he wants to make him make it again.
“Is it okay?” His mouth pops off of Jensen for a second, looking up at him through damp eyelashes and bright, honey brown eyes, lips shiny red and spit-slick. “Does it feel good?”
Jensen rolls his eyes and his head falls back against the couch. “Always fishing for compliments,” he grumbles, then reaches out, pressing his fingers to the back of Jared’s neck. “It’s awesome, Jay. Don’t stop.”
“Mmm, taste good,” Jared mumbles, fingers curling tight around Jensen’s shaft, knuckles grazing the tight skin around his balls as he takes him back into his mouth. Jensen’s cock is the first one he’s ever sucked before, so he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but Jared’s a quick learner. He pays attention to every detail: the way Jensen’s hips buck into his mouth when he flicks his tongue across the slit, the sound of Jensen’s nails scratching into the upholstery when Jared lets him slide all the way to the back of his throat. He learns just what makes Jensen hold his breath, knows he’s ready to start begging for it any minutes. He shudders when Jensen reaches down, thumb tracing the curve of his jaw.
“God, you’re pretty like this,” He murmurs quietly, as if he were talking to himself. “Mouth full of my dick, on your knees. Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this, Jared. Can‘t believe-”
Jensen trails off as Jared’s mouth slides off of him. He watches Jared stand up, clumsy hands fumbling with his belt and zipper until he’s pushing his own jeans and boxers off his hips. Then he’s climbing naked into Jensen’s lap, all six fucking feet of him, crushing their mouths together. Jensen reaches between them, wrapping his hand around both their cocks as Jared rocks into him, feeling Jared’s moans reverberate inside his mouth.
“Jensen,” Jared growls, burying his face in Jensen’s shoulder, peppering his collarbone with tiny purple bruises, scraping his tongue along the underside of Jensen’s jaw as his dick slides in and out of Jensen’s hand, slick with sweat and precome.
“You gonna come?” Jensen asks, pulling Jared’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth. “Wanna watch.”
“Damn, Jensen.” Jared makes a strained noise, jerks his hips once, twice, then Jensen can feel the warmth flooding his hand as Jared’s teeth bite into his bottom lip.
“My turn,” He says, blissed out smile stretched across his face as he leans back and watches Jensen touch himself. He finds Jensen’s eyes, bright green, pupils blown, and holds them; when he feels Jensen’s come splash onto his stomach, hot and sticky, he looks away only for a second to watch his name spill from Jensen’s lips. Its only a second, but Jared feels like its branded into his mind forever.
+ + +
Jared wakes up the next morning in his bed, butt-ass naked, with the covers totally pulled off of him. He rolls over, head pounding like a motherfucking marching band’s decided to take up residence in his brain, and sees Jensen laying there. He’s wrapped up in every inch of Jared’s sheets, looking so peaceful Jared could cry. He does what any sane, virile male would do; grabs one side of sheets and pulls as hard as he can, dumping Jensen on the floor next to the bed.
“SONOFA-Jared!” Jensen croaks, scratchy, sandpaper voice that Jared finds way too sexy for this time of the morning; he hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet.
“Hey, you stole all my covers.” Jared shrugs innocently and lays back on his pillow, pulling the sheets back around him. “Oh, come on. Get back in the damn bed.”
Jensen stands up, then notices for the first time that he happens to be completely naked. Realization flashes across his face like a cheap neon sign. “Oh god. We. You. Jesus Christ, Jared. Did we-”
“Jensen.”
“What?”
“Quit being a pussy and get back in the damn bed.”
“Okay,” Jensen breathes, crawling back underneath the sheets, rolling onto his side with his back to Jared. “Okay.”
Jared throws his arm around Jensen and pulls him against him, skin to skin, presses his lips to Jensen’s shoulder and grins. “Dude. You’re the little spoon.”
“I hate you.” Jensen groans, muffled into his pillow.
“I know you do.”
A beat.
“Jared?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Yeah. I know you do.”
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: Adult
Words: ~1678
Pornbattle prompt: Jared/Jensen, belt buckle
Jared’s happy.
Happy he talked Jensen into coming home with him before shooting started again, happy he bought this house outside San Antonio last year, close enough to his parent’s house that he can still drive over for some of his Momma’s corn bread on Sunday evening, happy about nachos and cookies with m and m’s in them, and beer.
“Beer is my favorite.” He holds the bottle of Bud in his fingers, studies it like it holds all of life’s little answers, like why hot dog buns come in eight and hot dogs in packages of ten, or why he finds himself staring at Jensen’s eyelashes when he blinks, which he does a lot when he’s just around the corner to being ass drunk.
They’re sitting in Jared’s living room, one lonely couch the only actual piece of furniture in the room to sit on, wrapped in Johnny’s dulcet tones as they finish off another sixer. Jared’s humming quietly under his breath, still humming around the dark amber glass when he raises it to his mouth, licks his lips before wrapping them around the bottle, finishing off another, he’s lost count at this point.
“You’re trashed,” Jensen drawls and Jared kind of hates him for that, how fucking sober he sounds. How dare he sound so articulate when Jared’s tongue feels like a fat, wet noodle in his mouth and words are like trying to pull teeth. Thing is, Jared knows Jensen. He might sound all there, but he totally isn’t. Jared can tell by the flush of pink that stands out behind the freckles layered thick across his nose and cheeks, the way Jensen drums his fingers against his knee, totally out of rhythm with the music. Mostly its how he keeps chewing on his bottom lip though; Jared watches closely and sometimes, right as Jensen parts his lips to take another drag off his beer, Jared catches a glimpse of bright crimson smeared across his bottom lip. He’s too drunk to notice how this make his pulse race and his heart beat like a bass drum in his chest. The bug zapper hanging off the front porch catches his attention, lighting up bright, electric blue as another yellow jacket bites the dust, and Jared forgets what he was doing.
A sharp clink of glass against metal gets his attention again, heavy lidded eyes dropping to notice Jensen’s empty bottle tapping against his belt buckle, wrist slack and lazy like the rest of his body.
“S’mine.” A grin crawls across Jared’s face as he slips down onto the carpet, moving Jensen’s hand out of the way, knocking his knees apart to crawl between them. “S’good on you,” He slurs, tracing the exaggerated “T” with a long, crooked finger, broken too many times playing basketball in his teens.
“Jay,” Jensen says warningly, long, dark eyelashes falling down in front of his when he blinks, slow and drawn out like everything else when they’re like this, exhausted from the intense Texas heat, humidity, and the warmth of the alcohol crawling through them like poison. “Gettup, dumb ass. You’re drunk as hell.”
“Not that,” Jared argues, and he’s not. Not too drunk that he doesn’t know what he’s doing; not too drunk to remember how he’s been jerking off in the shower the last week and a half, faced pressed against the tile moaning Jensen’s name when he comes.
“M’a fool for you,” Jared sings off-key, under his breath as his fingers trace the letters on his buckle, the one Jensen’s wearing, the one his Daddy gave him when he graduated high school. “Be-cause you’re mine, I walk tha-”
“Sorry to interrupt karaoke hour, but were you plannin’ on sucking my dick anytime tonight?”
Jared makes a sound, it would probably be a growl if he wasn’t half-choking from what Jensen just said to him, curls his fingers around the edges of Jensen’s (his) belt-buckle and tugs, bringing Jensen’s hips to the very edge of the couch cushions.
“Maybe,” he curls his lips into what he hopes looks like a smirk and less like a drooling, horny dog. “You gonna be a pussy ‘bout it in the morning?” His fingers slip from the buckle, lightly tracing the curve of Jensen’s cock, hard and straining beneath dark denim.
“Jared.” Jensen’s voice breaks, reaching down to grip Jared’s wrists, eyes dark and glazed, both from the beer and the hunger swimming inside of him. Then its like someone hits the fast forward button; Jared’s hands and fingers are all working at his belt, tearing away the buckle, fingers tripping over each other as he tries getting Jensen’s zipper down. Jensen’s skin burns where Jared yanks his jeans down roughly, leaving them bunched below his knees, mouthing Jensen’s cock through his boxers before pulling them off his hips too.
Jared looks up, wait’s a beat, but that’s all he’s going to give Jensen. He’s been thinking about this for too damn long, what Jensen would taste like, what his dick would feel like, hot and heavy on his tongue, sweet and bitter; he can’t stop now, not even if Jensen asked him too.
“Oh my God.”
That’s the sound Jensen makes when Jared’s mouth closes over him, cheeks hollowed, lips tight and smooth around the head of his cock. When Jared swipes his tongue across the tip, lapping up drops of salty precome, Jensen’s back arches off the couch and he makes a strained, choking sound in the back of his throat. The noise he makes when Jared takes him deeper, sucks him harder, faster, lets his teeth barely scrape over that delicate skin - that noise isn’t something Jared can describe; he just knows he wants to make him make it again.
“Is it okay?” His mouth pops off of Jensen for a second, looking up at him through damp eyelashes and bright, honey brown eyes, lips shiny red and spit-slick. “Does it feel good?”
Jensen rolls his eyes and his head falls back against the couch. “Always fishing for compliments,” he grumbles, then reaches out, pressing his fingers to the back of Jared’s neck. “It’s awesome, Jay. Don’t stop.”
“Mmm, taste good,” Jared mumbles, fingers curling tight around Jensen’s shaft, knuckles grazing the tight skin around his balls as he takes him back into his mouth. Jensen’s cock is the first one he’s ever sucked before, so he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but Jared’s a quick learner. He pays attention to every detail: the way Jensen’s hips buck into his mouth when he flicks his tongue across the slit, the sound of Jensen’s nails scratching into the upholstery when Jared lets him slide all the way to the back of his throat. He learns just what makes Jensen hold his breath, knows he’s ready to start begging for it any minutes. He shudders when Jensen reaches down, thumb tracing the curve of his jaw.
“God, you’re pretty like this,” He murmurs quietly, as if he were talking to himself. “Mouth full of my dick, on your knees. Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this, Jared. Can‘t believe-”
Jensen trails off as Jared’s mouth slides off of him. He watches Jared stand up, clumsy hands fumbling with his belt and zipper until he’s pushing his own jeans and boxers off his hips. Then he’s climbing naked into Jensen’s lap, all six fucking feet of him, crushing their mouths together. Jensen reaches between them, wrapping his hand around both their cocks as Jared rocks into him, feeling Jared’s moans reverberate inside his mouth.
“Jensen,” Jared growls, burying his face in Jensen’s shoulder, peppering his collarbone with tiny purple bruises, scraping his tongue along the underside of Jensen’s jaw as his dick slides in and out of Jensen’s hand, slick with sweat and precome.
“You gonna come?” Jensen asks, pulling Jared’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth. “Wanna watch.”
“Damn, Jensen.” Jared makes a strained noise, jerks his hips once, twice, then Jensen can feel the warmth flooding his hand as Jared’s teeth bite into his bottom lip.
“My turn,” He says, blissed out smile stretched across his face as he leans back and watches Jensen touch himself. He finds Jensen’s eyes, bright green, pupils blown, and holds them; when he feels Jensen’s come splash onto his stomach, hot and sticky, he looks away only for a second to watch his name spill from Jensen’s lips. Its only a second, but Jared feels like its branded into his mind forever.
+ + +
Jared wakes up the next morning in his bed, butt-ass naked, with the covers totally pulled off of him. He rolls over, head pounding like a motherfucking marching band’s decided to take up residence in his brain, and sees Jensen laying there. He’s wrapped up in every inch of Jared’s sheets, looking so peaceful Jared could cry. He does what any sane, virile male would do; grabs one side of sheets and pulls as hard as he can, dumping Jensen on the floor next to the bed.
“SONOFA-Jared!” Jensen croaks, scratchy, sandpaper voice that Jared finds way too sexy for this time of the morning; he hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet.
“Hey, you stole all my covers.” Jared shrugs innocently and lays back on his pillow, pulling the sheets back around him. “Oh, come on. Get back in the damn bed.”
Jensen stands up, then notices for the first time that he happens to be completely naked. Realization flashes across his face like a cheap neon sign. “Oh god. We. You. Jesus Christ, Jared. Did we-”
“Jensen.”
“What?”
“Quit being a pussy and get back in the damn bed.”
“Okay,” Jensen breathes, crawling back underneath the sheets, rolling onto his side with his back to Jared. “Okay.”
Jared throws his arm around Jensen and pulls him against him, skin to skin, presses his lips to Jensen’s shoulder and grins. “Dude. You’re the little spoon.”
“I hate you.” Jensen groans, muffled into his pillow.
“I know you do.”
A beat.
“Jared?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Yeah. I know you do.”
