FIC: Slip and Slide (Jared/Jensen NC-17)
Jun. 29th, 2014 03:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tebtoscaTitle: Slip and Slide
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2907
Warnings: underage (Jared 16), age difference (older Jensen), sex toys
Summary: Babysitting can be boring, but Jared finds ways to pass the time.
Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
smpc as my June entry. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fiercelynormal for the usual middle-of-the-night beta ♥
“I shouldn’t be too late tonight, Jared. Thanks again for coming through on such short notice.”
Mr. Ackles smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in that way that makes Jared fuzzy all over his body. He looks so damn sincere, and Jared can’t help but helplessly smile back at him.
“It’s not a problem, Mr. Ackles. Not like I had much going on anyway,” Jared replies. His cheeks start heating up as Mr. Ackles frowns, and Jared wonders if he’s said too much.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jared. You’re—what—sixteen now? Good-looking kid like yourself must have girls crawling all over you on a Friday night.”
Now Jared really knows his face is turning bright pink. If he only knew, Jared thinks miserably to himself.
Followed closely by, oh, my god, Mr. Ackles thinks I’m good-looking!
Mr. Ackles must pick up on Jared’s embarrassment, because his face twists into a contrite expression and he starts up again awkwardly. “Well, whatever works for you, Jared. You’re still young. And it works out for me since you seem to be the only sitter Ollie will even contemplate being good for.”
Jared has to laugh at that, remembering the stories that his best friend Gen told him when she used to watch little Ollie Ackles, or the “Ginger Terror”, as Gen calls him.
“Ollie’s a good kid. We understand each other,” Jared says, and the full-blown grin Mr. Ackles shoots him is positively knee-buckling.
“We’ll call you the Ollie Whisperer and leave it at that,” Mr. Ackles replies, and Jared dips his head with another embarrassed, but pleased, smile.
Mr. Ackles clears his throat and checks his expensive-looking watch one last time. “Alright then, I should be off. Ms. Harris won’t be happy if I’m late again.”
Jared turns his back quickly so Mr. Ackles won’t see him scowl. Ms. Harris. Of course that’s where Mr. Ackles is going, on another date with the beautiful, smart, and –ugh---nice English teacher at Singer High.
This must be the third, no fourth date. That probably means sex and then she’ll move in and they’ll get married and have more babies that Jared will have to babysit and then watch as the two of them make goo-goo eyes at each other in all their beautiful, smart, nice and utterly heterosexual glory.
“Have fun,” Jared mumbles, and doesn’t turn back around to see Mr. Ackles leave. He hears the man give a quick goodbye and then the door clicks firmly shut.
==
Ollie Ackles is five years old, with bright red hair that sticks up in a cowlick and freckles all over his nose and cheeks like someone sprinkled him with cinnamon. He’s currently obsessed with Sid the Science Kid, and refuses to wear anything else besides a red hoodie sweater, even in the warmer Texas temperature.
“Hi, Jared. Did you want me to teach you Sid’s new slide dance? You’ll have to take off your sneakers to do it,” Ollie says the minute Jared walks through the archway leading to the living room. He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching something on an iPad.
“If we start dancing, then you’ll never go to sleep,” Jared points out, crossing his arms and doing his best “stern Mr. Ackles” impersonation.
Ollie rolls his eyes, the brat. “Or the dancing will make me even more tired and I will go right to sleep afterwards.”
An hour later, Jared is panting from sliding around the hardwood floor of the living room, and Ollie is sound asleep in his bed, just like he predicted. Jared makes a vow never to doubt the kid again.
Jared checks on Ollie one last time before throwing himself down on the couch and flicking through Netflix on the Ackles’ smart TV. He makes it through half an episode of Locked Up: Abroad before getting restless.
His mind starts wandering to what Mr. Ackles is doing right at this moment. Are he and Ms. Harris still at dinner? Sharing a breadstick and a bottle of wine and talking about how perfect they are? Or maybe they couldn’t wait and they’re back at Ms. Harris’ house right now all naked and sweaty and still perfect.
Jared feels an uncomfortable sensation in his groin, and he knows it has nothing to do with picturing Ms.Harris naked and sweaty.
He doesn’t know quite how he finds himself in the doorway of what must be Mr. Ackles’ bedroom, but here is suddenly is.
The creaking of the door when he opens it feels louder than a gunshot. He freezes, every muscle in his body tightening up as he listens for any sounds that indicate Ollie is awake. Not hearing anything, he relaxes a bit and moves into the bedroom.
It’s neat and relatively sparse, but homey, kind of like Jared pictures Mr. Ackles himself. The bed is made, white goose-down comforter draped perfectly across, the material appearing soft and inviting.
Maybe that’s why Jared goes to it. He’s tired from the dancing and the week at school, and the bed just looks so comfy and warm. And if he sits on it, it’s just because he wants to feel how good the mattress must be.
And if he lies down on it, his face turning automatically into the pillow so that his nostrils are filled with the scent of a sleepy, musky Mr. Ackles…well, that’s not Jared’s fault either.
These things happen.
He lies there for a long moment, drinking in the thrilling sensation of being somewhere that he knows he’s not supposed to be.
Memory foam, Jared thinks absently, body sinking into it. The bed will remember him when he’s gone. This bed, Mr. Ackles bed. No matter who Mr. Ackles fucks on this bed, Jared will know that he’s been here as well.
It’s a surprise when he curls his hand under the pillow and knocks against a hard object. It’s an even bigger surprise when he pulls the object out from under the pillow and realizes that it’s a smooth glass object.
A smooth glass dildo. Holy shit, Mr. Ackles has a fucking dildo under his pillow.
Who is it for? Does he use it on his dates? On Ms. Harris? Or, oh god, does he use it on himself?
The glass is heavy in Jared’s hand as he grips it, even heavier when he brings it up to his mouth and balances it gently on the dip of his bottom lip.
He pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he stays still as a statue, feeling the weight of the toy on his flesh as his mouth fills with saliva and his dick swells uncomfortably behind the zipper of his jeans.
There’s the vague suspicion in the back of Jared’s mind that tells him he must be possessed, because otherwise he has no idea why the tip of his tongue comes out and uses some of that saliva to wet the tip of the smooth, pillow-warmed glass.
It’s crazy, forbidden, unsanitary even, but all Jared can think about is how many nights he’s lain in his own bed wishing he knew the way it felt to have Mr. Ackles pushing him down, his smell and taste all over every inch of Jared’s body.
Jared groans, an involuntary sound, and the glass slides in, circle of his mouth swallowing it down, tightening around it, the slip-slide over the slick of his tongue wet and dirty.
His dick is throbbing, teenage hormones and the feel of the toy heavy in his mouth making him harder than he can ever remember being. He just needs a few seconds of relief, just a quick trip of the zipper, down, down, there, yes, just like that.
He can’t help the noises, tiny ones, breathy and overwhelmed as the slide of the glass gets faster, in and out so smooth and wet, drool down the side of his mouth. He palms his dick, just the crown pulled out of the top of his boxer shorts, but enough so that he can fist it. Not stroking, just pressing, dick pulsing in his hand as he uses his other hand to push Mr. Ackles’ toy right to the edges of his gag reflex.
Jared’s so lost in sensation that he completely misses it when Mr. Ackles enters the room and takes in the scenario with a guttural “fuck.”
“Oh god,” Jared says, words garbled around the glass dick in his mouth. It’s a beat before he remembers what the fuck he’s doing, and pulls it out, the quick movement causing him to cough painfully.
He recovers quickly enough, and pushes the dildo back under the pillow while trying to shove his own dick in his pants at the same time.
“Oh my god, Mr. Ackles, I’m so sorry, I promise you that this will never happen again, please don’t tell my mom, please don’t be mad, don’t hit me, oh my god,” Jared rambles, ready to burst into tears at any moment. He still sits frozen on the bed, Mr. Ackles blocking the doorway and his only means of escape from his humiliation.
“Jared,” Mr. Ackles says, voice calmer than Jared would have expected it, considering the situation.
“Yes, Mr. Ackles?” Jared replies timidly, look up at him through his sweaty bangs.
“Call me Jensen.”
“Wait, what?”
There’s that smile again, those eye crinkles, but this time it’s tinged with amusement and…could that be something else?
Jared swallows hard.
“What did you have there, Jared?” Mr. Ackles – Jensen – asks him, nodding at the pillow where he just shoved the toy.
Jared looks at him warily. Jensen knows what it is, why is he asking that question? “Um, nothing?"
Jensen chuckles. “You sure about that?”
“A toy. Your toy, I think.”
“That’s right, it’s my toy,” Jensen confirms, and Jared’s belly tightens. He can still taste it on his tongue.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Ack…Jensen.”
“Don’t be. Have you ever used one, Jared?”
“No, Jensen. Just my…”
“Just your what, Jared?”
“Just my fingers, sir.”
It’s then that Jared sees it. The way that Jensen’s eyes lower to half-mast, the way he sucks in that full bottom lip between his teeth. The way his smart dress slacks tighten about the increasing bulge of his dick.
Jared sits there, just staring, unable to take his eyes off the swell in Jensen’s pants that says that whatever the hell is happening right now is turning him on. Jared - skinny, dorky Jared Padalecki - is turning Jensen Ackles, on, the hottest guy Jared’s ever laid eyes on and the object of every waking gay wet dream he’s had for the past two years.
Jensen shuts the door behind him, and the click of it is like a heartbeat in Jared’s ear.
“Hey, Jared,” Jensen says, voice soft but firm, as he starts walking over towards the bed.
“Yeah?” Jared replies, breath caught in his throat as Jensen toes off his shoes and climbs onto the bed right next to him. Jared goes with the momentum of it, following Jensen’s lead, which is sending Jared straight onto his back in the middle of the mattress.
Jensen slides next to him, not quite over him, but body tilted just enough that the promise of it is there. He reaches under the pillow and pulls out the glass dildo, Jared’s spit still drying on the tip of it.
“Tell me what you want, Jared,” Jensen says softly, leaning down just enough so that his nose is running along the side of Jared’s temple and his lips are so very close to touching the shell of Jared’s ear.
“I want it inside me,” Jared blurts out, the first thing in his mind coming right out before he can stop them.
Jensen hums, the vibration of it tickling Jared’s skin all along the side of his jaw.
“And I want you inside me.”
Jensen stops suddenly, and Jared wonders if he’s gone too far. But it’s just for a second, and then Jensen’s chuckling low in his throat and his mouth is just a few centimeters away from Jared’s own.
“First things first,” Jensen says, closing the gap and giving Jared his very first kiss.
Jared’s paralyzed at first, his brain not quite catching on to what is happening to his mouth. His dick certainly is into it, however, and he’s ever so glad that he never managed to get the zipper all the way up because that would be unfortunate right at the moment.
It’s when the tip of Jensen’s tongue touches the seam of Jared’s lips that Jared gets with the program, opening up with a moan that he’d probably be embarrassed about if he had enough brain power left to worry about it. Jensen doesn’t wait, plunging into the hot cavern of Jared’s mouth and coaxing his tongue into a dance that it’s never had the chance to perform before.
Just when Jared thinks he’s going to come in his pants just from kissing alone, Jensen pulls back, staring down at Jared with lust-darkened eyes.
I did that, Jared thinks, a bit hysterically if he’s being honest with himself.
Then Jensen’s sliding the glass along the line of Jared’s cheekbone, down his jaw, and then swirling up over his chin until it’s resting on Jared’s now-kiss-swollen lips.
“Get it wet again,” Jensen whispers, voice rougher now.
Jared obeys immediately, mouth opening around the glass, taking it back inside himself. It’s hotter now, nearly obscene, but Jared stares right up into Jensen’s eyes, never wavering as the toy fucks in and out of his mouth and spit drips once again down the ridged sides of it.
Jensen pulls it out with a pop, Jared pulling in a deep gasp of air when he does it.
It speeds up then, things becoming surreal as Jensen is shushing him and whispering words of encouragement over heated skin as he strips Jared bare.
Jensen’s still fully clothed and it makes Jared feel embarrassed and wanton at the same time. His legs, smooth and naked as the day he was born, spread open automatically, and Jensen’s little gasp makes every second of it worthwhile.
“You’re beautiful, Jared,” Jensen murmurs, eyes hungry and dark as he stares at the length of Jared’s naked body.
No one’s ever seen Jared like this before, so open and vulnerable, and there’s a part of Jared that is just the tiniest bit afraid of giving away this much.
Fortunately, the bigger part of him is completely on board with Jensen reaching over into his nightstand and grabbing a tube of lube to coat his fingers with.
It’s that part that whimpers when Jensen’s rubs a slick, cold thumb around the edges of Jared’s hole, the meat of the pad pressing the little furl without attempting to delve into it.
It’s definitely that part of him that stretches his thighs even wider and whispers “please, Jensen” over and over again until Jensen’s digit is breaching his body for the first time.
Jensen leans over him, finally, breathing demanding words directly into his mouth. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, just have to tell me.”
His fingers are in there, two, three, Jared doesn’t know how many, just knows the way they fill him, the pressure of it, the feeling of good but not quite enough.
“Please, Jensen, put it inside me. I need it inside me.” Jared knows he’s pleading, can’t help himself any longer.
Jensen kisses his mouth, once, twice, quick kisses that bite. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you the glass tonight. But next time, oh, baby, next time I’m going to fuck you so good. Spread you out on these sheets and lick you open until tears come out of your eyes, until you are begging for my cock inside of you.”
Jared can’t speak, nothing coming out of his mouth except grunts as Jensen slowly pushes the head of the toy inside of him. It pops through the initial ring, and his muscles tighten up involuntarily around it.
Jensen shushes him again, tells him that he’s doing so well and he can take it, just needs to open up and let him in.
So Jared does, breathing out a shuddering breath and trying his best to relax enough for Jensen to push the toy deeper into him. It goes in halfway, before Jensen pauses, waiting for Jared to adjust to the sensation.
“Move, please, move,” Jared moans, legs twitching on the bed.
Jensen listens, the glass cock pushing in and then pulling out, tugging at Jared’s inner walls in the most delicious way possible. Jensen’s got his other hand wrapped in the too-long strands of Jared’s hair, tugging it just on the right side of painful as he kisses Jared hard on the mouth.
It doesn’t take much longer for Jared to shoot white all over his own stomach and Jensen’s dress shirt, cock completely untouched. His whole body shakes, an orgasm like none he’s ever experienced before rattling through him.
There’s silence in the room afterwards, the only sound at all Jared’s panting. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do now, whether he’s supposed to reciprocate or get dressed and slink off like this whole thing never happened.
But Jensen obviously has something else in mind, and breathes words softly in Jared’s ear.
“So, like I said, next time…”
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2907
Warnings: underage (Jared 16), age difference (older Jensen), sex toys
Summary: Babysitting can be boring, but Jared finds ways to pass the time.
Author's Notes: Written for
smpc as my June entry. Thanks to fiercelynormal for the usual middle-of-the-night beta ♥ “I shouldn’t be too late tonight, Jared. Thanks again for coming through on such short notice.”
Mr. Ackles smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in that way that makes Jared fuzzy all over his body. He looks so damn sincere, and Jared can’t help but helplessly smile back at him.
“It’s not a problem, Mr. Ackles. Not like I had much going on anyway,” Jared replies. His cheeks start heating up as Mr. Ackles frowns, and Jared wonders if he’s said too much.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jared. You’re—what—sixteen now? Good-looking kid like yourself must have girls crawling all over you on a Friday night.”
Now Jared really knows his face is turning bright pink. If he only knew, Jared thinks miserably to himself.
Followed closely by, oh, my god, Mr. Ackles thinks I’m good-looking!
Mr. Ackles must pick up on Jared’s embarrassment, because his face twists into a contrite expression and he starts up again awkwardly. “Well, whatever works for you, Jared. You’re still young. And it works out for me since you seem to be the only sitter Ollie will even contemplate being good for.”
Jared has to laugh at that, remembering the stories that his best friend Gen told him when she used to watch little Ollie Ackles, or the “Ginger Terror”, as Gen calls him.
“Ollie’s a good kid. We understand each other,” Jared says, and the full-blown grin Mr. Ackles shoots him is positively knee-buckling.
“We’ll call you the Ollie Whisperer and leave it at that,” Mr. Ackles replies, and Jared dips his head with another embarrassed, but pleased, smile.
Mr. Ackles clears his throat and checks his expensive-looking watch one last time. “Alright then, I should be off. Ms. Harris won’t be happy if I’m late again.”
Jared turns his back quickly so Mr. Ackles won’t see him scowl. Ms. Harris. Of course that’s where Mr. Ackles is going, on another date with the beautiful, smart, and –ugh---nice English teacher at Singer High.
This must be the third, no fourth date. That probably means sex and then she’ll move in and they’ll get married and have more babies that Jared will have to babysit and then watch as the two of them make goo-goo eyes at each other in all their beautiful, smart, nice and utterly heterosexual glory.
“Have fun,” Jared mumbles, and doesn’t turn back around to see Mr. Ackles leave. He hears the man give a quick goodbye and then the door clicks firmly shut.
==
Ollie Ackles is five years old, with bright red hair that sticks up in a cowlick and freckles all over his nose and cheeks like someone sprinkled him with cinnamon. He’s currently obsessed with Sid the Science Kid, and refuses to wear anything else besides a red hoodie sweater, even in the warmer Texas temperature.
“Hi, Jared. Did you want me to teach you Sid’s new slide dance? You’ll have to take off your sneakers to do it,” Ollie says the minute Jared walks through the archway leading to the living room. He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching something on an iPad.
“If we start dancing, then you’ll never go to sleep,” Jared points out, crossing his arms and doing his best “stern Mr. Ackles” impersonation.
Ollie rolls his eyes, the brat. “Or the dancing will make me even more tired and I will go right to sleep afterwards.”
An hour later, Jared is panting from sliding around the hardwood floor of the living room, and Ollie is sound asleep in his bed, just like he predicted. Jared makes a vow never to doubt the kid again.
Jared checks on Ollie one last time before throwing himself down on the couch and flicking through Netflix on the Ackles’ smart TV. He makes it through half an episode of Locked Up: Abroad before getting restless.
His mind starts wandering to what Mr. Ackles is doing right at this moment. Are he and Ms. Harris still at dinner? Sharing a breadstick and a bottle of wine and talking about how perfect they are? Or maybe they couldn’t wait and they’re back at Ms. Harris’ house right now all naked and sweaty and still perfect.
Jared feels an uncomfortable sensation in his groin, and he knows it has nothing to do with picturing Ms.Harris naked and sweaty.
He doesn’t know quite how he finds himself in the doorway of what must be Mr. Ackles’ bedroom, but here is suddenly is.
The creaking of the door when he opens it feels louder than a gunshot. He freezes, every muscle in his body tightening up as he listens for any sounds that indicate Ollie is awake. Not hearing anything, he relaxes a bit and moves into the bedroom.
It’s neat and relatively sparse, but homey, kind of like Jared pictures Mr. Ackles himself. The bed is made, white goose-down comforter draped perfectly across, the material appearing soft and inviting.
Maybe that’s why Jared goes to it. He’s tired from the dancing and the week at school, and the bed just looks so comfy and warm. And if he sits on it, it’s just because he wants to feel how good the mattress must be.
And if he lies down on it, his face turning automatically into the pillow so that his nostrils are filled with the scent of a sleepy, musky Mr. Ackles…well, that’s not Jared’s fault either.
These things happen.
He lies there for a long moment, drinking in the thrilling sensation of being somewhere that he knows he’s not supposed to be.
Memory foam, Jared thinks absently, body sinking into it. The bed will remember him when he’s gone. This bed, Mr. Ackles bed. No matter who Mr. Ackles fucks on this bed, Jared will know that he’s been here as well.
It’s a surprise when he curls his hand under the pillow and knocks against a hard object. It’s an even bigger surprise when he pulls the object out from under the pillow and realizes that it’s a smooth glass object.
A smooth glass dildo. Holy shit, Mr. Ackles has a fucking dildo under his pillow.
Who is it for? Does he use it on his dates? On Ms. Harris? Or, oh god, does he use it on himself?
The glass is heavy in Jared’s hand as he grips it, even heavier when he brings it up to his mouth and balances it gently on the dip of his bottom lip.
He pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he stays still as a statue, feeling the weight of the toy on his flesh as his mouth fills with saliva and his dick swells uncomfortably behind the zipper of his jeans.
There’s the vague suspicion in the back of Jared’s mind that tells him he must be possessed, because otherwise he has no idea why the tip of his tongue comes out and uses some of that saliva to wet the tip of the smooth, pillow-warmed glass.
It’s crazy, forbidden, unsanitary even, but all Jared can think about is how many nights he’s lain in his own bed wishing he knew the way it felt to have Mr. Ackles pushing him down, his smell and taste all over every inch of Jared’s body.
Jared groans, an involuntary sound, and the glass slides in, circle of his mouth swallowing it down, tightening around it, the slip-slide over the slick of his tongue wet and dirty.
His dick is throbbing, teenage hormones and the feel of the toy heavy in his mouth making him harder than he can ever remember being. He just needs a few seconds of relief, just a quick trip of the zipper, down, down, there, yes, just like that.
He can’t help the noises, tiny ones, breathy and overwhelmed as the slide of the glass gets faster, in and out so smooth and wet, drool down the side of his mouth. He palms his dick, just the crown pulled out of the top of his boxer shorts, but enough so that he can fist it. Not stroking, just pressing, dick pulsing in his hand as he uses his other hand to push Mr. Ackles’ toy right to the edges of his gag reflex.
Jared’s so lost in sensation that he completely misses it when Mr. Ackles enters the room and takes in the scenario with a guttural “fuck.”
“Oh god,” Jared says, words garbled around the glass dick in his mouth. It’s a beat before he remembers what the fuck he’s doing, and pulls it out, the quick movement causing him to cough painfully.
He recovers quickly enough, and pushes the dildo back under the pillow while trying to shove his own dick in his pants at the same time.
“Oh my god, Mr. Ackles, I’m so sorry, I promise you that this will never happen again, please don’t tell my mom, please don’t be mad, don’t hit me, oh my god,” Jared rambles, ready to burst into tears at any moment. He still sits frozen on the bed, Mr. Ackles blocking the doorway and his only means of escape from his humiliation.
“Jared,” Mr. Ackles says, voice calmer than Jared would have expected it, considering the situation.
“Yes, Mr. Ackles?” Jared replies timidly, look up at him through his sweaty bangs.
“Call me Jensen.”
“Wait, what?”
There’s that smile again, those eye crinkles, but this time it’s tinged with amusement and…could that be something else?
Jared swallows hard.
“What did you have there, Jared?” Mr. Ackles – Jensen – asks him, nodding at the pillow where he just shoved the toy.
Jared looks at him warily. Jensen knows what it is, why is he asking that question? “Um, nothing?"
Jensen chuckles. “You sure about that?”
“A toy. Your toy, I think.”
“That’s right, it’s my toy,” Jensen confirms, and Jared’s belly tightens. He can still taste it on his tongue.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Ack…Jensen.”
“Don’t be. Have you ever used one, Jared?”
“No, Jensen. Just my…”
“Just your what, Jared?”
“Just my fingers, sir.”
It’s then that Jared sees it. The way that Jensen’s eyes lower to half-mast, the way he sucks in that full bottom lip between his teeth. The way his smart dress slacks tighten about the increasing bulge of his dick.
Jared sits there, just staring, unable to take his eyes off the swell in Jensen’s pants that says that whatever the hell is happening right now is turning him on. Jared - skinny, dorky Jared Padalecki - is turning Jensen Ackles, on, the hottest guy Jared’s ever laid eyes on and the object of every waking gay wet dream he’s had for the past two years.
Jensen shuts the door behind him, and the click of it is like a heartbeat in Jared’s ear.
“Hey, Jared,” Jensen says, voice soft but firm, as he starts walking over towards the bed.
“Yeah?” Jared replies, breath caught in his throat as Jensen toes off his shoes and climbs onto the bed right next to him. Jared goes with the momentum of it, following Jensen’s lead, which is sending Jared straight onto his back in the middle of the mattress.
Jensen slides next to him, not quite over him, but body tilted just enough that the promise of it is there. He reaches under the pillow and pulls out the glass dildo, Jared’s spit still drying on the tip of it.
“Tell me what you want, Jared,” Jensen says softly, leaning down just enough so that his nose is running along the side of Jared’s temple and his lips are so very close to touching the shell of Jared’s ear.
“I want it inside me,” Jared blurts out, the first thing in his mind coming right out before he can stop them.
Jensen hums, the vibration of it tickling Jared’s skin all along the side of his jaw.
“And I want you inside me.”
Jensen stops suddenly, and Jared wonders if he’s gone too far. But it’s just for a second, and then Jensen’s chuckling low in his throat and his mouth is just a few centimeters away from Jared’s own.
“First things first,” Jensen says, closing the gap and giving Jared his very first kiss.
Jared’s paralyzed at first, his brain not quite catching on to what is happening to his mouth. His dick certainly is into it, however, and he’s ever so glad that he never managed to get the zipper all the way up because that would be unfortunate right at the moment.
It’s when the tip of Jensen’s tongue touches the seam of Jared’s lips that Jared gets with the program, opening up with a moan that he’d probably be embarrassed about if he had enough brain power left to worry about it. Jensen doesn’t wait, plunging into the hot cavern of Jared’s mouth and coaxing his tongue into a dance that it’s never had the chance to perform before.
Just when Jared thinks he’s going to come in his pants just from kissing alone, Jensen pulls back, staring down at Jared with lust-darkened eyes.
I did that, Jared thinks, a bit hysterically if he’s being honest with himself.
Then Jensen’s sliding the glass along the line of Jared’s cheekbone, down his jaw, and then swirling up over his chin until it’s resting on Jared’s now-kiss-swollen lips.
“Get it wet again,” Jensen whispers, voice rougher now.
Jared obeys immediately, mouth opening around the glass, taking it back inside himself. It’s hotter now, nearly obscene, but Jared stares right up into Jensen’s eyes, never wavering as the toy fucks in and out of his mouth and spit drips once again down the ridged sides of it.
Jensen pulls it out with a pop, Jared pulling in a deep gasp of air when he does it.
It speeds up then, things becoming surreal as Jensen is shushing him and whispering words of encouragement over heated skin as he strips Jared bare.
Jensen’s still fully clothed and it makes Jared feel embarrassed and wanton at the same time. His legs, smooth and naked as the day he was born, spread open automatically, and Jensen’s little gasp makes every second of it worthwhile.
“You’re beautiful, Jared,” Jensen murmurs, eyes hungry and dark as he stares at the length of Jared’s naked body.
No one’s ever seen Jared like this before, so open and vulnerable, and there’s a part of Jared that is just the tiniest bit afraid of giving away this much.
Fortunately, the bigger part of him is completely on board with Jensen reaching over into his nightstand and grabbing a tube of lube to coat his fingers with.
It’s that part that whimpers when Jensen’s rubs a slick, cold thumb around the edges of Jared’s hole, the meat of the pad pressing the little furl without attempting to delve into it.
It’s definitely that part of him that stretches his thighs even wider and whispers “please, Jensen” over and over again until Jensen’s digit is breaching his body for the first time.
Jensen leans over him, finally, breathing demanding words directly into his mouth. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, just have to tell me.”
His fingers are in there, two, three, Jared doesn’t know how many, just knows the way they fill him, the pressure of it, the feeling of good but not quite enough.
“Please, Jensen, put it inside me. I need it inside me.” Jared knows he’s pleading, can’t help himself any longer.
Jensen kisses his mouth, once, twice, quick kisses that bite. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you the glass tonight. But next time, oh, baby, next time I’m going to fuck you so good. Spread you out on these sheets and lick you open until tears come out of your eyes, until you are begging for my cock inside of you.”
Jared can’t speak, nothing coming out of his mouth except grunts as Jensen slowly pushes the head of the toy inside of him. It pops through the initial ring, and his muscles tighten up involuntarily around it.
Jensen shushes him again, tells him that he’s doing so well and he can take it, just needs to open up and let him in.
So Jared does, breathing out a shuddering breath and trying his best to relax enough for Jensen to push the toy deeper into him. It goes in halfway, before Jensen pauses, waiting for Jared to adjust to the sensation.
“Move, please, move,” Jared moans, legs twitching on the bed.
Jensen listens, the glass cock pushing in and then pulling out, tugging at Jared’s inner walls in the most delicious way possible. Jensen’s got his other hand wrapped in the too-long strands of Jared’s hair, tugging it just on the right side of painful as he kisses Jared hard on the mouth.
It doesn’t take much longer for Jared to shoot white all over his own stomach and Jensen’s dress shirt, cock completely untouched. His whole body shakes, an orgasm like none he’s ever experienced before rattling through him.
There’s silence in the room afterwards, the only sound at all Jared’s panting. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do now, whether he’s supposed to reciprocate or get dressed and slink off like this whole thing never happened.
But Jensen obviously has something else in mind, and breathes words softly in Jared’s ear.
“So, like I said, next time…”
