tebtosca | FIC: Shades of Cool (Jared/Jensen NC-17)

Title: Shades of Cool
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2451
Warnings: power dynamics, age difference, handcuffs, spanking, comeplay

Summary: Officer Ackles tries to keep the peace, but that Padalecki kid doesn't want to play nice.

Author's Notes: Written for

smpc for the month of April. Based on a prompt by my girl

soulmatecest (thanks, bb!)

There are some things Jensen doesn’t like to admit to himself, even alone at night with his eyes towards the ceiling and his hand down his boxers.

“Whatcha gonna do, Officer? Gonna cuff me?”

The way shiny silver metal looks around slim tan wrists? Well.

Yeah, some things are better left untouched.

==

It starts four months ago, just a few weeks into Jensen’s new beat over in the Triangle.

He’s a year-and-a half out of the Academy, uniform still bright blue and fitted around his gut. He’s young, sharp. His partner Jeff calls him hungry, but says it with enough of a cantankerous eyeroll that Jensen doesn’t think it’s meant as much of a compliment.

The Triangle’s a tough beat, but good for learning the ropes. Affectionately known as Little Kraków to the old time residents, it’s as well known for its fried pierogi as it is for the thriving meth trade. Grandmas in lace aprons with wizened faces sit on the stoops as their grandsons’ blades hold court in abandoned buildings with crude Polish slang spray-painted across the doorways.

It’s a regular Thursday night, a few weeks into the new beat when Jensen comes across one of those grandsons, aerosol in his hand, the click-clack of the can a melodic beat in the night air.

It’s the end of the night, nearing the end of his shift. Jeff begged off a half hour earlier, something about his wife and his landlord and an overflowing bathtub, and, to be honest, Jensen didn’t need to hear the gory details. Jensen had waved him off, planning on keeping quiet for the last few before heading back to his apartment to crash.

Jensen hangs back a second, watches the kid do his thing. He’s tall, gangly, but his long limbs are graceful as he swipes the paint across the brick and creates what in the kid’s head is probably some fucking masterwork.

Jensen chews his bottom lip, eyes pulled down to the tight little ass in baggy denim doing a little shimmy as the kid really gets into his tagging.

Dangerous territory, Ackles, he admonishes himself, and clears his throat just loud enough for the kid to hear.

The kid freezes, body pulled so tight that Jensen can almost see the corded muscle of his back through his thin t-shirt.

Jensen knows the kid is probably weighing the decision between fight and flight, so he steps a bit closer and calls out to him. “If you run, then I’m going to have to chase you, and I think both of us are too tired for that at this hour.”

The kid’s shoulders relax and he swirls around, smirk firmly planted on what turns out to be one spectacular looking face. He gives Jensen an exaggerated look up and down his body, and the smirk widens.

Fuck.

“Heya, Officer. Nice weather tonight, huh?”

Jensen swallows hard. The kid can’t be more than eighteen, but Jensen knows that on these streets, age doesn’t mean much about life experience.

“What’s your name, kid?” Jensen asks, hands on his belt and shoulders back in his most authoritative stance.

The eyeroll in response is about what Jensen expected, but then the kid’s gaze steadies and he looks straight in Jensen’s eyes when he replies. “Jared Padalecki, Officer. At your service.”

Jensen just stops himself from cursing out loud at the surname, the same one that matches the biggest drug distributor in the Triangle. Judging by the kid’s age, Jared must be one of the younger brothers or cousins of the local kingpin.

“Well, alright, Jared Padalecki. Why don’t you leave that poor building alone and run along home to your mama.”

Jared’s eyelids lower for just a moment and it looks like he’s about to say something before he just shrugs and puts the can of spray paint in the back pocket of his pants.

“See you around, Officer,” he sing-songs, smiling wide enough to indent his cheeks.

Fucking dimples.

Jensen just holds back a groan before heading back to his squad car, his uniform pants a little tighter than they were before the encounter.

==

It’s a full five weeks before he sees the Padalecki kid again.

This time there’s actual running involved, or at least from the kid’s end, as he nearly collides bodily with Jensen as he sprints around the corner.

The kid lands on top of Jensen, palms on the sidewalk next to Jensen’s head and his breath panting only a few inches from Jensen’s mouth. This close, the kid’s eyes widen and Jensen spends a beat too long trying to figure out just what color they are.

“That’s him, that’s the kid!”

A heavily-accented voice breaks Jensen out of his stupor, and it kicks his professional instincts back in just enough for him to roll the kid over onto the cement and get one skinny arm up behind his back.

“Little thief!” the man, who Jensen recognizes as the shopkeeper from down the block, growls at the kid.

Padalecki starts squirming under him and Jensen straddles him to keep him in check. If his crotch is a little too close to the kid’s wiggling little ass, well, he’ll just go ahead and try to ignore that.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep out of trouble?” Jensen asks pulling the arm up just a little more to make his point.

The kid winces, but looks back over his shoulder with a vicious grin on his pretty pink mouth. “Whatcha gonna do, Officer? Gonna cuff me?”

He wiggles his ass again for good measure, and Jensen pulls back like the thing’s burning him. With a exasperated huff to disguise his sudden and entirely inappropriate arousal, he pulls the kid up and pushes him up against the nearby brick.

“Maybe next time,” Jensen mumbles, and the kid must hear it because he nearly vibrates in Jensen’s grasp.

“Are you going to arrest him? These punks think they can do anything they want,” the shopkeeper demands, and Jensen looks over at him with a placating nod.

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll take care of things from here. You go back to your shop and go about your business.”

The shopkeeper looks between Padalecki and Jensen warily but finally acquiesces and heads back around the corner.

As soon as he’s gone, Jensen lowers the kid’s arm and turns him around, back against the brick and defiant face towering a few inches over Jensen’s not-unsubstantial height.

“If I let you go, are you going to learn to behave?” Jensen says, and there’s part of him that is only asking to get the expected smirk out of the kid because, damn, the little brat is beautiful.

“You wanna teach me how to behave, Officer?” Padalecki replies, voice almost a purr, and Jensen drops his grip and steps back before he takes the kid up on his offer.

“Get out of here before I change my mind, “ Jensen growls, and the kid laughs as he throws Jensen a salute and nearly skips down the sidewalk and away from temptation.

==

Jensen doesn’t really expect Padalecki to stay out of trouble, but he is a little surprised that the kid always manages to find his way to whatever block Jensen’s working that night. Even Jeff starts to notice, though he’s usually too busy on his phone yelling at his wife to actually do anything about it.

It’s four months after that first encounter that Jensen finds himself with Jared Padalecki face down in the back seat of his squad car, silver cuffs around his wrists and shag of brown hair feathering out on the leather.

==

“Jensen, man, I promise I’ll pay you back, but my wife –“ Jeff begs off earlier, giving Jensen the earnest face that Jensen knows is full of shit. He’s motioning towards his cell phone, where an unintelligible but loud female voice is rambling on.

“Yeah, yeah, go on. I’ll be fine,” Jensen replies with a sigh, waving off Jeff’s gratitude and settling down to wait out the last hour of his shift alone.

Not twenty minutes later, Padalecki comes running down the alleyway near where Jensen has the squad car parked. He stutters to a halt when he sees Jensen stepping out of the vehicle, and darts his eyes to the left and right like he’s contemplating making a run for it.

A strange warmth flows over Jensen when he sees him, some strange sort of affection that is probably nothing more than lust but is maybe more, just a tiny bit more. He’s about to call out to Jared when he notices the blood trickling down the kid’s cheekbone and the switchblade clutched in his palm.

“Padalecki, put down the blade,” Jensen demands, hand hovering over his service revolver in warning.

“My name’s Jared, Padalecki is my loser meth-head brother,” he spits out in return, still not lowering the weapon.

“Okay, that’s fine, Jared it is. Just put down the blade and we can have a much friendlier conversation.”

Jared’s face twists into that insufferable smirk again and he heads over to Jensen without even the hint of fear over the fact that he has his hand on his gun.

“You want to get friendly with me, Officer?” Jared asks, raising the hand with the blade up to Jensen’s chest and drawing it down the slope of buttons on his uniform shirt.

With one swift movement, Jensen knocks the blade out of Jared’s hand and has the kid spun around and slammed into the side of the car before the kid even manages a grunt.

“I warned you, didn’t I? Gave you a chance to stop this bullshit,” Jensen hisses in the kid’s ear. He reaches for his cuffs with the hand not holding Jared against the car, and snaps the metal around his wrists without hesitation.

“Maybe I didn’t want to stop. Maybe I like it when you try to tell me what to do. Officer.” The last word is said so mockingly that it burns Jensen up inside that it also makes his dick pop up so fast that he gets nearly light-headed from the re-direct of blood.

Jared must feel it because he huffs out a laugh and pushes his ass back to rub along Jensen’s uniformed-wrapped erection. “Oh yeah, maybe you like it, too. I bet you’d love to push me down in the back seat of this big old squad car right now and have your way with me.”

“Don’t tempt me, kid,” Jensen grits out between his teeth, but he’s unable to keep from grinding his dick along the seam of Jared’s ass pushing so enticingly into it.

“What if I say I want it? What if I say that I’ve been fucking with you this whole time on purpose so you would just fucking do it already?”

That’s about when Jensen’s resolution snaps, and he has the kid face-down in the back seat like he’s wanted for the last four months before he even realizes he’s doing it.

“Oh god, yeah, c’mon, do something,” Jared’s moaning like a bitch in heat, skinny body squirming along the leather even as his hands are cuffed up tight across his lower back.

“I’ll do something, you little brat. Fucking teasing me for months,” Jensen says with a groan, kneeling up onto the back seat and wasting no time before pulling the too-big denim off that perfect tight little ass.

Jared hisses when the night air hits bare skin, but he’s pushing that ass out and Jensen’s done wasting time refusing. Jensen gets his thumbs right up in the crack, breaking the seam open and finally exposing that pretty little hole to his view.

He spits right on it, then again, getting the pucker all shiny and wet as he rubs one thumb and then the other on it. He massages the hole just like that, not dipping in, just rubbing over it like he’s coaxing it open, preparing it for what’s coming next.

“Fuck me, man, fuck me, c’mon!” Jared’s begging now, pushing back against Jensen’s hands, but Jensen just lands a swift smack to one rounded cheek, reveling as much in the squeal of shock that comes from the kid as he does from the red imprint he leaves behind.

“Bossy little brat, aren’t you? You’re not calling the shots anymore, kid, so you just lay there and take what I’m gonna give you.”

Jensen lands one more smack for emphasis, and then uses that hand to get his own zipper down to release his too-hard dick. He knee-walks even closer then, holding his dick at the base and sliding it slowly along the spit-slick crease of Jared’s ass.

“Put it in!” Jared pleads, whining into the leather, and Jensen reaches up and wraps up the kids too-long hair in one fist to jerk his head back.

“I said you are going to take what I give you,” Jensen growls, leaning further down to bite kisses into Jared’s shoulder as he increases the speed he’s rubbing his dick back and forth. The crown catches onto Jared’s well-massaged hole on every other down stroke and it makes both Jensen and Jared groan every time.

Another time, when they’re not in public, when he’s not in uniform, when he has a goddamn condom, then, then, then.

With a long moan, Jensen comes all over Jared’s ass, jizz dripping down the curve and down the backs of his thighs.

He takes a quick breath to recover, then pulls Jared up to his kneeds by his cuffed arms and tight against Jensen’s body, reaching around with the hand covered with his own jizz, and starts pumping Jared’s hot blood-red dick until the kid’s own orgasm follows all over the back seat.

“Clean it up,” Jensen demands, pushing Jared’s head down and making a pleased sound as the kid starts immediately lapping his own jizz noisily off the leather.

There’s no sound besides heavy breathing as the two of them come down from the high. Jensen knows he should be panicking, knows that something like this can destroy his career in an instant, but at the moment he’s too satiated to care much beyond when he’s going to be able to get the kid in the middle of his California King.

“You gonna uncuff me?” Jared asks, his voice rough but calm.

“You gonna behave?” Jensen shoots back, but he knows the answer to that one already.

Jared looks over his shoulder with a coy expression, cheeks flushed pink and lips swollen from being bitten. He bats his eyelashes like the little tease he is, and smiles that dimpled smile.

Jensen considers it answer enough.