Fic: close as you can (not one inch less) Supernatural RPF, Jensen/Jared, NC-17 1/2

[stripytights]

I posted the first bit of this for spn_masquerade, then took a couple of months to add another 8K. So the first couple of thousands words may look familiar, but the rest is spanking new.


Title: as close as you can (not one inch less)
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Length: 11K
Rating: NC-17
Content notes: a lot of sex, stepbrothers having sex (no blood relationship), exhibitionism, Jared is 17
A/N: written for this prompt at the spn_masquerade. This is pure sex, not a single shred of redemptive value.


Summary: Everyone thinks that stepbrothers Jared and Jensen are just really affectionate with each other. The truth is that they get off on hiding in plain sight, pushing the limits of how far they can go in public and not get caught.

Jared meets him at the airport, hangs over the barrier waiting for him, and knows that Jensen sees him in the crowd immediately. Jensen drops his bag and hugs Jared so close that they’re getting amused looks from other people passing by. Jared can feel Jensen muffle his smile in the clammy skin of Jared’s neck, mock bite at the tender skin, knows Jensen can feel the delicate shiver go through Jared at the touch of his mouth, breaks away just as Jared’s dad arrives from parking up the car. They shake hands before Gerard tugs Jensen in for a hug, tells him he’s glad he’s back from college, and leads the way to the car, towing Jensen’s suitcase for him, while Jensen walks side by side with Jared, bumps hips with him occasionally, always with the same huge smile on his face like he can’t believe he’s home.

In the car, Jensen gets into the back with Jared - Gerard says they’re the only siblings he’s ever met, step or not, at any age, who don’t fight for shotgun, and he shoots them a look of approval - like everyone else he’s glad they get along so well, and he likes having the front free anyway so there’s no interference with the radio. Deep down between their knees, where Gerard can’t see, Jensen’s got Jared’s hand in his, tangles their fingers together and stares at him with a smile that says everything words can’t. Jared squeezes back, doesn’t care how damp they get, hot slide of their hands against each other just a prequel to what they’re going to do once they get home.

Gerard asks questions about college, Jensen answers alertly and well, tells all the fun, safe stories about classes and crazy professors, nothing like the ones he tells Jared down the phone, voice lazy and low, until Jared’s got his fingers in his pants, doesn’t care what Jensen says, as long as he says it like that, blows futile loads in his shorts just thinking about Jensen, gets hot and cold with jealousy down his spine when he thinks what Jensen might be doing, who he might be doing, but Jensen won’t be drawn on that. When Jensen leans forward to explain some minor point to Gerard about the canteen options this year, Jared has to suck in a startled squeak because Jensen lets go of his hand and puts it on his knee instead, heavy and warm against his skin, just a little under the cargo shorts Jared’s wearing, and that’s playing dirty.

Jared likes it. He’s missed this. Not just the way Jensen touches him, the way Jensen makes every bit of him come alive and spark to attention, but the way Jensen does it wherever he damn wants. He thinks there must be something wrong with him, something screwed up, how hard it gets him when Jensen touches him in front of people, slides a hand down his shoulder, wraps an arm round Jared’s shoulders and squeezes his bicep, how the breath gets caught in his throat and his dick swells just from Jensen being next to him, bright sharp smell of his aftershave caught in the air like a signal just for Jared. Wrong or right  (and the answer to that is simple), it makes him feel like nothing else can. So he touches Jensen back, leans forward a little bit as well and lets his arm play down the length of Jensen’s spine, until he reaches the swift swoop of his t-shirt hem and shamelessly feeds his fingers between the gap, light tickle of fingers against Jensen. He wants to follow the swoop of his back down to that tempting dip, but Jensen’s fingers squeeze on his knee, an implicit warning.

He’s so absorbed in their touch that he almost misses his dad’s question. “You don’t mind sharing with Jared, do you, Jensen? I know it’s not ideal, your mom and I can figure something else out if we need to, we’re just short on space at the moment. I’m sure Donna will tell you all about it.”

“No problem at all,” Jensen says with the politeness even amongst family that marks him out as the golden boy, the nice one.

“No-one asked me,” Jared says mournfully, and next second they’re scuffling in the back, Jensen pressing into Jared, solid length of his legs between Jared’s as he pretends to remind Jared of the pecking order.

Gerard is laughing at them in the front, secure in the knowledge that they get on too well to argue in earnest, not privy to the hand Jensen’s got between Jared’s legs, the unsubtle press of his fingers to Jared’s dick through his shorts, because Gerard keeps his eyes on the road and Jared knows that’s what Jensen’s relying on.

“Boys,” he says, “come on, seatbelts,” because safety first, and Jared shoves Jensen off, risks a quick, disgusting lick to his face just for the look of outrage on Jensen’s face, and the taste of Jensen in his mouth, sucks it off his tongue with a smile.

The rest of the ride Jared spends with anticipation crawling headily up his spine, hands squeezed between his knees so he doesn’t do anything obscene. Only Jensen does this to him, makes him want to open up and spread out and show himself off. Only with Jensen is it so completely forbidden. They stop off on the way, go through a drive-through because the day is hot and Jared forgot the water - a circumstance that provides Jensen with a chance to grip his neck playfully and shake him like a kitten - Jared sways with it because Jensen’s fingers on the soft skin of his throat make him want to choke up confessions, and Jensen’s eyes look ready to swallow him up.

Afterwards he sucks on the straw and looks at Jensen from under his eyelashes, a parody of innocence, a perversion of it, grips it between his teeth and drags it through, his father oblivious, sitting in the front and peering through the windshield, a contorted look of disgust on his face at the sight of the traffic. Jensen takes the cup of soda from him, puts his mouth where Jared’s mouth had been, and drinks, and it’s a little bit gross but Jared’s stomach gives one hard throb at the sight, like it’s not a straw Jensen’s lips are wrapped around. He wants to kiss Jensen, taste the sticky-sweet soda clinging to his tongue, drink from him like he’s drowning underwater, and it’s burning up inside him.

He’s been waiting for Jensen to get home, waiting for this since Christmas, a hard ball of excitement in his chest mingled with fear in case Jensen’s changed his mind, in case none of it meant anything at all, easy come and easy go. Now they’re pressed thigh to thigh and he can taste sweetness in his mouth and summer on his skin and it’s going to be so good.

When they pull into the drive, Donna’s there to meet them. Her hair gently wilts in the heat and the cool cotton of the dress she wears to impress clients is clinging damply to her knees, but she enfolds Jensen in a hug, and steers him inside. Gerard insists on grabbing the bags and Jared tails in behind them, feels unwanted and forgotten even though he sees her every day and Donna isn’t his mom, and he’s glad because otherwise what he does with Jensen would be three times as bad. He’s itching all under his skin, though, like the patience that’s served for the five months since he last saw Jensen has suddenly run out, wellspring of it dry and wanting inside him.

Gerard unknowingly saves him when he demands a hand with taking Jensen’s bags up to Jared’s room, and Jensen follows them up. They’ve cleared out the desk from under Jared’s bunk and put the second bed back in, and it’s made up and pristine. Jensen’s got an arm thrown over his shoulder casually, chummily, asks him loud and clear, top or bottom.

Either, he replies, dead serious because Jensen can do what he wants, can touch him how he likes, and Jared’s going to come like that, and he doesn’t care exactly how. His dad grunts approvingly at this uncharacteristic lack of sibling squabbles, like he thinks they’ve grown up, when they’re just playing a whole new game. Donna shouts up that she’s made iced tea and Gerard is gone, stairs two at a time like he’s no older than his sons, leaving Jared and Jensen alone for the first minute since the stolen airport seconds.

There’s no time for tension because Jensen’s mouth is sweet on Jared’s, soft push of his lips coaxing a response out of Jared, sucking his breath out until Jared feels hollowed with it, dizzy and strange. He stumbles forwards and Jensen goes willingly, flops back onto the bed and Jared crawls on top of him, ducks his head under the lowness of the bed above, rocks down hard as Jensen tugs his lip between his teeth, sucks on it until it’s raw and puffy and red, even a little sore with an ache that sets up residence in Jared’s bones. They’re being messy, deliberately so, and Jared’s caught up in it, the sharp shiver of pleasure up his spine when he gets the angle just right between them, even if it’s just frottage and through their clothes at that. Jensen’s cupping his ass through his shorts, fingers digging into the muscle, pulling him in, and Jared’s so close to coming, just from the hot  sigh of Jensen’s mouth on his, the grind of their hips.

Their mother’s “Boys!” breaks the moment, and the steady tramp of feet up the stairs completes the frustration. Jared rolls off Jensen, quick as thought, goes to fiddle with the window in the hopes of maybe getting some cooler air - he feels like he’s going to sweat to death - although it seems unlikely that the temperature’s gone up that much in the hours Jensen’s been back in state. Jensen’s lounging on the bed, knee crooked up when Donna raps on the door, then comes in anyway with two glasses of iced water which she hands over with a smile, and a reminder that they’re going out for dinner tonight now that Jensen’s home.

The door shuts safely behind her and Jared drains the water, presses the sweating glass against his forehead, trembles with the near sweet shock of discovery, adrenaline high and pounding in his blood. He doesn’t know what it is that Jensen does to him, what secret dark bit he unearths in Jared that makes him want to risk everything like this. It strips away decency, ignores the claims of morality and even that most basic, deepest instinct of self preservation.

Jensen approaches him, and Jared sucks in a breath because he wants all over again, the solid strength of Jensen’s body - college has been good to him, he’s grown up in a way that Jared envies deeply, caught as he feels as an awkward seventeen year old, too lanky and tall and ungraceful in any of the ways that matter. Jensen doesn’t look like he agrees from the way his eyes roam Jared, and then catch at his. “We should go downstairs,” he mutters, and Jensen hmms in reply, before he takes off his shirt, lean and defined, nipples pink against his tanned skin - Jared’s frozen to the spot at the sight - and rummages for a new one in his unpacked case, before he grins at Jared and pulls it over his head.

“Absolutely,” Jensen says. “Sit next to me tonight?”

It’s not really a request, and Jared feels a tremor of anticipation settle itself into the base of his spine. He’d like to say he’s an exhibitionist, that having Jensen touch him when and where he wants, laying his mark on him and etching it in, isn’t all about the fact it’s Jensen doing it. But he isn’t. He’s just hardwired now to want this, hardwired since Jensen kissed back that first time. He’s been hopelessly Jensen’s since the day they met, hopelessly in love since the first time he kissed Jensen - so fucked up on cheap vodka, lying in the back of Jensen’s car while Jensen pissed and moaned, like the biggest hypocrite on the face of the planet, about responsibility and drinking sensibly, carting his little brother home and hiding it from their parents. Jensen didn’t kiss him back when Jared pulled him down, and tried to kiss him, lips unyielding and firm against Jared’s drunken sloppy attempt. He pulled back and left Jared there, so ashamed that he wanted to curl up and die.

Then Jensen finally kissed back, kissed him, after bleak awful months of fighting, shy and strange like he’d been the one who broke the new-brother pact first, months in which even if Jensen hadn’t noticed before, he had to notice then that Jared was head over heels  for him. When Jensen kissed him on the wrong side of an emergency room door, thinnest curtain between them and their parents, there was nothing about it that Jared was going to say no to. And if in the smallest bit of him, there’s something that flares hotter at the thought of fooling everyone, of having Jensen without a single one of them knowing? Well, there’s a bonus.

He pulls on a fresh shirt of his own and follows Jensen downstairs to the kitchen where Donna waves him in and pours him a glass of ice tea, makes him sit down with her and Jensen. Jensen tells about his semester, and twines his bare feet with Jared’s under the table, slow rub together that sends goosepimples up Jared’s legs. He keeps a listening expression on his face, but doesn’t hear one word in ten.

He tunes back in, though, right in time to hear “...I bumped into Mrs Robinson in town yesterday, she said Emma’s home already. You should give her a call,” because Jared’s step-mom has many admirable traits but subtlety is not one of them.

Jared tries not to look at Jensen’s face too closely but he doesn’t need to. “We broke up ages ago, mom,” Jensen says. “I think she’s got a new boyfriend, I saw something about it on facebook.”

Donna waves a hand in dismissal. “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” and Jared snickers, ducking the mock swat of her hand because along with her lack of subtlety, she’s not shy at all about Jensen finding the right girl someday. He’s pretty sure that by the right girl, she doesn’t mean Jared, though.

Jensen plays along. “Sure you’re not. And before you ask, nobody serious at college either,” and as though he’s trying to drive Jared mad, he drags one foot up his leg, like they’re fifteen year olds too shy to make the first proper move, and then he puts the lid on it, he gives a sunshine smile and tells them both about the party Danni’s throwing tomorrow.

Donna says all the right things about catching up with his friends though Jared thinks she’s a little disappointed that Jensen doesn’t want to stick around at home for a couple of days at least. He’s not really listening over the seething resentment in his blood, the sudden fear. They’ve made no promises, this thing doesn’t invite words, and he’s pretty sure that Jensen’s lips around his dick once, at Christmas, doesn’t constitute some legally binding agreement, much as he’d like that. Nor do their late night conversations on the phone, starting well and ending better with muttered filth that makes Jared shiver down to his toes and palm his dick as he sinks his voice down so his parents won’t hear even if they walk past his room. That’s until Jensen leans back on his chair, balanced on two legs and says, “Danni invited you as well, Jared. You can be my plus one.”

He’s not going to lie. Part of the reason he’s excited is because Jensen’s two years older. His friends have always been the cool friends - Jared likes his own friends just fine but if he had the choice he’d hang out with Jensen and the people he knows all of the time - and it’d been the grievance of half his high school years that he hadn't been allowed to go to most of their parties. It's different now.

"Sure, sweetie," he says and makes a grotesque kissing face. "I'll be your plus one."

Donna rolls her eyes. "Look after him, Jensen," she says, like Jared's seven, not seventeen. "I mean it, you hear?"

Jared's torn between outrage and a knowledge of which battle to pick. Prudence wins out in the end and he disentangles his feet from Jensen's, and stands up to stretch and get another glass of tea from the counter, knowing without even looking that Jensen is watching every twitch, watching the new broad spread of Jared's shoulders, and maybe he is showing off just a little, possessed with an urge to flaunt that consumes him, but Jensen did it without even thinking and maybe he wants just a little payback. It's worth it. Jensen's eyes are fixed and unblinking as he looks Jared up and down in one slow look, like he finally gets what he's coming home to.

At this moment, with that look in Jensen's eyes, Jared would do whatever he wanted. Would sink to his knees right here in the kitchen and show Jensen that whatever college can give him or old friends or ex flames, that it's nothing to how Jared will make him feel. Hell, he'd do half of what they'd talked about on the phone - lazy, dirty words pushing far beyond where they've ever touched, almost chaste from Jensen's insistence, intimacy skirting the line of impossible denial. He’d spread his legs and get his fingers up into his ass, fuck them just a little, like he's done once or twice in bed at night, Jensen on the phone, sugar-sweet in his ear.

But they're in front of Jensen's mother and Jared doesn't have any kind of death wish that he knows of, so he drops his eyes down and drinks his tea, pretends not to see anything, wonders how Donna can miss it.

At the restaurant it's twice as bad, because again, they sit close enough that their feet can nudge, and Jensen touches him beneath the table, not a little bit of shame in him, sits forward at the table and slides two fingers down the small of Jared's back, traces the dip of his spine, and sinks down into his pants until they rest at the beginning of his ass, dip a little into the crease and that's all Jared can take, dick hot and heavy from the touches that Jensen hands out like they're candy. "Going to the bathroom," he mutters and escapes, thinking maybe he'll beat off in a stall and that might keep his dick under control.

Of course thirty seconds later, Jensen's there, and Jared's got his hands in his hair as Jensen kisses him, slips him tongue that has Jared almost choking on the way he wants to moan into Jensen's mouth. "Come on," he says, because he's keyed up, and it won't take much, might just take a hand or a mouth on him to send him spurting, weak and quaking out of control. He's had Jensen's mouth on him once before and almost cried with how good it felt that time, wonders if he can convince Jensen to go to his knees in here and let him feel it again.

"Pants off," Jensen says, voice of sense in a senseless world, and Jared does it, pushes them down until he's hobbled and bare in front of Jensen's gaze, feeling like a colt, all legs and dick that Jensen makes him feel like he doesn't know how to use until Jensen touches him. It's a handjob - not the first one, though it's the first time like this, in public, about thirty feet away from people who might hear them, might know what they're doing. Jensen's feeding Jared’s dick through his fist, fat head revealed on each stroke, fast and sure, and Jared's leaking all over his goddamned hand, generous pulses of pre-come that've disconcerted some girls in the past but that Jensen seems to relish, thumbing through it, just past the sensitive slit, and Jared bucks in reaction, feeling it all through his hips and in his balls, a sharp painful twang of feeling. It's an easy glide in Jensen's fist - Jared's never looked so big, he thinks, as he does against that large hand, and Jensen isn't even looking at him, not really, he's staring at the thick flesh in his hands as though he's been mesmerised.

Jared's on the edge now, feels the tightness in his balls and the burn in his belly, scrabbles uselessly at Jensen, erratic hip thrusts ruining the rhythm that Jensen's built up for him, and Jensen gets it, crouches down and lets Jared come in his mouth, sucks him down and in, hollows his cheeks around the length of Jared's cock. Jared comes like a shot, bites into his hand so he doesn’t shout, pumps himself into Jensen’s mouth until he’s helpless and dizzy from the high.

Jensen pulls away with an audible pop that blows Jared’s mind some more, and pulls up his pants when he stands up, tucks Jared’s dick away, still damp from his mouth and oversensitive - even the cotton of his boxers feels too much, and when he kisses Jared, Jared can taste the bitter sharpness of his own come, but he doesn’t care about the taste when he gets it like this - sucks it off Jensen’s tongue until they’re both gasping. When he tries groping Jensen, though, Jensen pulls away.

“No time for that,” he says. “I told our parents you looked like you weren’t feeling so great. Any longer and your dad’s gonna check on us.” When Jared tries to protest from some deeply ingrained sense of fair play, Jensen shushes him. “You can blow me tonight,” he says. “Under the blankets, in our room.” Jared’s knees, weakened from their encounter, almost give out at that, and he follows Jensen back through, mouth swallowing around the phantom imagined sensation of Jensen’s dick pushing at the back of his throat.

The main course is on the table by the time they get back and Gerard and Donna are looking a little tight and anxious round the eyes. Jared makes his excuses, wonders whether he shouldn't eat to add some veracity to his account but the food wins out. He is still trembling just a little from the aftershocks of an intense orgasm, and mostly just concentrates on his plate hoping Jensen won't do something to drive him mad before the end of the meal.

Jensen doesn’t touch him once during the rest of the dinner, not on the shoulder, not a shove to the arm or a smack on the head, and the complete absence of extended touch is as dizzyingly exciting in its own way as the surfeit was. Jared follows suit, plays along and pretends, keeps the space between them a sacred thing.

Back at home, Jensen pleads the flight as an excuse to turn in early. Jared lingers downstairs until he’s sure it doesn’t look suspicious that he’s so eager to sleep himself. When he lets himself in, the room is dark and stuffy, soft whir of a fan on the desk, and he feels his way by instinct over, stripping off his t-shirt and kicking off his jeans. He’s volunteered to take the top bunk, but he’s expecting the sudden touch of Jensen’s hand in the darkness, folds himself in and under. Jensen’s naked, and Jared didn’t expect that for some reason, Jensen smooth and hot under his hands and fucking naked. He can’t help the sound he lets out and Jensen clasps a hand over his mouth, adds a kick of fear to the heat in Jared’s gut.

The house is winding down, their parents are downstairs, faint distant blur of the TV but that means nothing at all. Jensen’s hand is like a brand across Jared’s mouth and he doesn’t move it, makes Jared suck in air as best as he can until he bites at Jensen’s fingers, lines them up alongside each other, hip to hip, chest to chest, solid weight of Jared on every inch of Jensen, and Jared’s struck with uncertainty. Jensen gets it, like he always does, pushes at Jared. “On the floor,” he whispers, and Jared means to roll off gently, but he miscalculates it and lands with a thud that has him listening for an annoyed reprimand from downstairs. It doesn’t come. He pictures their parents listening, paused like statues, ears cocked for the sound of their sons, and his dick twitches.

Jensen exits the bottom bunk with substantially more grace, crawls over Jared and straddles him, easy and loose, Jared can barely see him in the dark but he can feel every inch. His mouth falls open, and he thinks how like an invitation it would look if Jensen could see it. Wonders if Jensen will fuck his mouth like that, make Jared take every inch, keep him quiet not with his hands but with his cock, wants it and doesn’t know how to ask for any of this.

It doesn’t seem like Jensen needs Jared to ask, though; he’s rubbing his fingers over the hardness of Jared’s nipples, his hands skimming the flatness of his belly, dipping into the line of his hips, until he gets a hand around Jared’s dick. In an instinct of reciprocation, Jared traces the hard, hot line of Jensen’s dick, then with an excess of courage, he gets his hands round Jensen’s lean hips and pulls, feels the initial resistance before Jensen yields to him, shuffles up far enough that Jared can get his lips round Jensen’s dick. He’s never sucked cock before, his experience with men is limited to what Jensen’s done to him and an embarrassing amount of gay porn that made this look so much easier than it actually is.

The angle’s all wrong. His neck cricks as he tries to get more than the head into his mouth, it scrapes across his crooked bottom teeth, and Jensen lets out a low stifled sound, pulls back, leaves Jared to chase him, until Jensen gets what he wants, crawls up a little further, pushes open Jared’s mouth, scrapes his thumb over Jared’s teeth, then pushes in, hot and heavy on Jared’s tongue, too much and not enough in exactly the same second. He feels like he’s choking in the darkness of the night, air replaced with Jensen, leaking steadily into his mouth, taste bitter on his tongue for moments only before Jensen’s cock bumps the back of his mouth and Jared almost chokes around him, seizes up for a second and Jensen’s still, until Jared sucks at what he can, and Jensen gets that he doesn’t want to stop.

It feels like it lasts for an eternity, slippery weight of Jensen’s dick on his tongue, shallow thrusts that go nowhere fast, and Jared thinks if his mouth wasn’t full he’d be moaning. If he had any shred of embarrassment left in him, he’d be flushed with how much he likes this, not in the hypothetical, but the actual, long lazy strokes of Jensen’s dick owning his mouth, Jensen’s hand in his hair tugging idly at the strands. Jared’s not on the edge, this is a different burn, can’t even get his hands round his own dick because they’re occupied with Jensen, but he doesn’t regret it.

When Jensen finally comes, Jared can’t swallow it, not at the angle he’s in; it pools in his mouth, kind of gross on his tongue, all Jensen and painfully hot. He’s hoping that Jensen will kiss him, and Jensen seems to be intent on making everything Jared wants happen tonight, bends himself almost in half to kiss him, swipes his tongue in. It sends a spike of heat down Jared’s spine and jerks his dick, the sheer filthiness of it all, spread out flat on the floor, his brother’s dick down his throat, his come in his mouth, knowing in every fibre of him how wrong it is. Jensen takes his time kissing him, pulls at the flesh of his lip until it’s swollen and painful and Jared’s jerking his hips up in desperation, untouched and painfully hard. Jensen’s just interested in kissing him, though, slow and deep, and Jared swears he can feel eyelashes flutter against his cheek.

“You are not falling asleep on me like that,” he says when Jensen pulls back just a little. “I mean it,” because Jensen’s lips are curved in a smile against his now.

“You sure you don’t want to stay hard,” Jensen murmurs, soft catch of words so quiet in the darkness that even Jared can barely hear him. “You could lie there in the dark and not touch yourself, fall asleep frustrated. Wake up tomorrow and I’ll suck you off before breakfast if you’re a good boy.”

It’s painfully cheesy, Jared’s pretty sure he’s seen the movie that Jensen’s cribbing dialogue from, but that doesn’t stop it from being hot, not when Jensen’s thumb is stroking his cheek, rubbing across his skin, and Jared can still taste Jensen’s come in his mouth. “Sounds good,” he whispers. “I have a better suggestion. Get me off now and suck me off tomorrow, you lazy asshole.” Hey, he was first an only child and then the youngest son, he’s used to being spoilt a little bit.

Jensen snorts against him, indrawn huff of air that Jared’s more used to hearing when Jensen’s trying not to answer back one of their parents. His breath is gentler, more regular now, Jared knows that breathing, he’s shared a room with it for years. The fucker is genuinely on the verge of sleep. Even tired, though, Jensen knows his business, rolls off Jared and curls his fist around Jared’s dick, jerks him off the way that he seems to know will get him off faster, bites at his mouth, the sore tenderness of his lips, the line of his neck, prickle of teeth and hot breath as he tugs at Jared’s skin, and okay, Jared might be an easy lay because he comes fast and hard.

Jensen wipes his hand on Jared’s belly, fine disregard for decency, same way he used to rub Jared’s face in the mud when they wrestled, and they tussle for a few violent seconds, bound by the need to be quiet, before Jensen crawls into bed. Jared hesitates, fights an internal war. He wants to crawl in next to him, but he’s not sure that he’ll wake up early enough to crawl out again in time. Discretion might be the better part of valour, but part of Jared doesn’t want Jensen to assume this is just Jared offering his ass on a plate. So he crawls in beside him, mellow heat of Jensen, tucks in and hopes like hell he’ll wake up in the morning.


Part Two found here