Chapter 8: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead (J2, NC-17)
Fic title: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead
Artist name: amberdreams
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: past domestic abuse, sexual language, non explicit sex, cussing, Chad
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Jared checked his phone - nine in the morning. Jensen snuffled and placed a muscular and freckled arm around his waist and pulled him back into a sleepy embrace with his head on Jared’s chest.
This was not the way it was supposed to work. Did Jensen have no understanding of the principles of a one night stand?
Some sleepy drool wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t exactly objected to the things that Jensen’s tongue had achieved the night before. But the thing was, Jensen was breaking all the rules:-
1. One night stands take place on neutral territory, or the hook up’s place, absolutely never at Jared’s place.
And this was because
2. There is no morning after. Hook ups finish by 5 a.m. when the other party is asleep or pretending to be asleep. Morning-after conversations are avoided at all costs. No further contact after that.
Additionally,
3. Sex scratched an itch. It was to be a little tipsy, a little frantic and somewhat one sided. You win some, you lose some.
And especially,
4. No cuddles or sweet talk.
They had broken every single rule and if Jensen didn’t leave soon then the number one, golden rule,
5. No do-overs,
was becoming increasingly hard to resist. Jensen was absolutely beautiful, right the fuck by his side and his talented fingers were caressing his skin, playing his libido like a fiddle.
“You overthink,” Jensen muttered, so his lips just grazed Jared’s left nipple.
Breath hitched, “You overstay,” he retorted.
Jensen’s hand ghosted down to his treasure trail. He was playing dirty and Jared was finding it almost impossible to resist. Still, it had to be done. He huffed and weakly reminded him, “One night stand, Jensen.”
Jensen leaned up on one elbow and looked at him with those ridiculous, long lashed, gem-green eyes, a picture of innocence. “Ah, but, it’s a holiday weekend.”
“So?”
“It’s like when they put the clocks back and you get an extra hour, only it’s a long weekend so we get an extra night.”
“That’s not a thing!”
Jensen licked a stripe from Jared’s chest, over his neck and stopped to suck his earlobe, “It sure is, and it means I have to make breakfast and feed you strawberries.”
Jared turned his face to Jensen’s, “How do you know that I have strawberries?”
Jensen shrugged, “I got hungry and checked out your fridge while you were snoring. FYI, there’s no beer but the pizza was good. I need to change my delivery.”
“There is soda! And you are the worst one-night stand ever!”
Jensen pulled his trademark cocky grin, “You love it,” before he was cut off by Jared diving in for a long, deep, slightly garlicky kiss. There was only so much self control he could exercise.
Mid-afternoon, they stopped for their second shower, since the first had only led back to the bedroom. Jensen kept his promise to make pancakes in Jared’s kitchen. He topped them with chopped strawberries, poured cream on top of that and sprinkled sugar, just so he could hand feed it all to Jared and make suggestive comments about sugar daddies and cream on his lips.
“Too tired!” Jared had declared before dissolving into shared giggles with him as they let the conversation get dirtier and more ridiculous.
It was all good in the moment, and hilarious until Jensen gave him an affectionate kiss on the back of his neck as they loaded the dishwasher. Jared wanted more. He wanted to know everything about Jensen, his likes, dislikes, childhood pranks. He wanted date nights, sleepy nights, sexy nights, shared chores, even in laws. It might last forever or it might fizzle out in weeks. Hell, he might be a temporary bit of rough for Jensen’s amusement but it all sucked because he would never know. Worse than that, maybe even wishing for it made him unfaithful. Would faeries take revenge on him or his mother? Could they hurt Jensen?”
He sat down heavily on a kitchen stool, suddenly serious and emotional. “I can’t do this. You should go.”
He expected a smart alec reply. Instead Jensen sat opposite him with an equally serious expression. “Because I’m a pushy dick? Or I’m bad at sex? Because you have the right, without explaining? Or because your mother betrothed you to a faerie?”
“Oh, my god!” Jared buried his head in his hands. “You are not bad at sex. And how do you remember I said that? You must think I’m crazy.”
Jensen took his hand across the counter, “I don’t think you’re crazy and I don’t think you were lying. Also, I wear a little button cam on event nights. It captures special moments for publicity and makes sure we follow up every financial pledge. I’m sorry, it was wrong of me to record you but I didn’t realise until I started to sober up. I wasn’t going to mention it but you look so sad right now. Do you want to talk about it?”
It had to be a sick prank that Jensen was pulling. “I was joking, Jensen,” he lied angrily. Are you filming this for hits on YouTube? For fun with your buddies? Did you plan it with Christian? Am I a joke to you?”
Jensen squeezed his hand gently, “Look at me, Jared. This time with you? It is entirely private, adult, consenting fun. It isn’t about anything else. There is no tease, no big reveal, only you and me, and I have a lot of respect for you because you have kept it light to do the right thing by somebody that another person promised you to. I’m not going to tell you that arranged marriage is wrong because it happens in a lot of cultures and it is your consent that matters, nobody else has a say in it. Only, when you talk about it, there is no excitement, no spark or anticipation. Would you want to go ahead if you thought your fiance didn't want it?”
He noticed Jensen’s hand curled over his and his earnest gaze, and he wanted to let every sadness and worry bleed out, until he was empty of it all. But, yeah, he had also seen the way that Jensen switched on charm and a smile for profit. He remembered his own father’s rattlesnake smile and gracious public manner and how that facade had slipped into mean words and meaner fists in private. He pulled his hand away from Jensen. “You don’t need to patronise me. It was a joke. It’s not complicated, I don’t want any commitments.”
Jensen listened to him and took a few moments to respond, “Okay. Well, I would love to stay and have some more uncomplicated fun. If I screwed the vibe, then I will grab my stuff and go. Or we could Netflix and chill. If I’m a dick then I can be your dick for another night and on Tuesday, I promise it will be like nothing happened. You will create an amazing garden and I will appreciate it.” His wide eyed plea seemed genuine.
For the first time in his life, Jared craved an intimate connection with another person. It couldn’t end well. It was a bad idea. An awful idea. Unfortunately, his unreliable heart excused him with every beat, while his libido echoed Chad’s words, ‘Faeries aren’t real’. He wanted every moment he could get with Jensen.
He threw caution to the wind. “I haven’t seen The Irishman yet,” he offered.
“Robert de Niro and Al Pacino, always a classy combination,” Jensen agreed. In two leaps he transitioned from Jared’s tiny kitchen onto his big, cozy couch. “Where’s the remote? Why do you have all these cushions? It’s like an IKEA ad.”
The deliberate redirection was gratefully accepted by Jared. “They are comfortable,” he argued, winking at Jensen, “Cushions can be useful in many activities that take place on a couch between consenting adults.”
“Oh, I change my mind. I LOVE cushions!” He picked one up and hugged it.
Jared wanted to be that cushion.
“In fact, no lie, I love your whole apartment. It has everything you need and nothing you don’t and there isn’t a floor board missing anywhere.” He licked his lips, “The view from your balcony is amazing, we could have a beer and…”
“We are not having sex on my balcony!”
“Your loss,” muttered Jensen.
Jared sat beside him, “You have gardens the size of a park and a house bigger than this entire block.”
“It’s not the size that matters, it’s …,”
“What you do with it!” finished Jared. He was unwinding. There was something about Jensen’s easy presence that could do that for him, “But I do like big, it does so much more.”
“Am I a disappointment?” grinned Jensen.
Jared glanced at his crotch and threw a cushion at him, “Stop fishing for compliments. You know you aren’t.”
Jensen grabbed the cushion and threw it back at him. It soon degenerated into a pillow fight and when Jensen straddled Jared in victory, with red cheeks and tousled hair, Jared knew that they wouldn’t be watching a movie that day. He pulled him down for a breathless kiss as he ground up against him, his eager cock searching for more than friction.
***
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