Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 21/24
There’s a quiet desperation and need in the way that Jensen loves him. There’s a part of Jared that is uncomfortable about the revelations in the letters he read. Jensen has been watching Jared from the shadows all his life. Jared thinks Jensen knows him better than anybody else does, maybe he does. To him, Jensen is still unmapped territory and he doesn’t know which paths are safe to explore, but he launches himself headlong, without caution. He wonders who is the more obsessive of them.
Jared lets himself be led by the hand and laid out naked on the covers of his huge bed while Jensen straddles his hips, cock at attention, huge and proud. He allows himself to be manipulated so that his hands touch Jensen’s cool, silky flesh. Even now, with his lips sucking at Jen’s nipple and his hands stroking the muscular globes of his lover’s ass, it feels like giving rather than taking. Jensen consumes him and Jared offers it willingly. There is no part of his emotion, thoughts, or body that doesn’t belong to the green-eyed man. He’s had other lovers, fumbling trysts on unhygienic sofas during his school years and short affairs on silk sheets, but every one had expectations of the powerful brunette. He took from them, topped without query. He never questioned the way he would sometimes let them manipulate the action and pace, let them push him to his knees or pin him beneath, and ride him. There was an afterglow and a satisfaction but never this all-encompassing freefall, this loss of control, this gifting of ownership. It is exciting, deliciously frightening and perfect.
There is a moment when Jen reaches to the nightstand and there’s the snick of a cap and the obscene splurt of lube, he can say no, and he is sure that Jensen will stop. Jared can tell him that this is his first time, like this, being filled and fucked. He could ask for a condom or talk about technique, but he doesn’t say a thing, he wants it like this, unrefined, hard and messy.
Fingers circle his rim then push and probe. It’s too much and not enough, painful and wonderful. He’s thrashing his head and squeezing his hands into acres of freckled, smooth skin as he pushes up and his cock rubs friction against Jensen’s bare flesh with a spine tingling frisson of excitement. He’s moaning, somewhere in there is “More!” and “Do it!” because he’s losing his mind with lust and his cock is rigid with need, pulsing to the beat of want. Suddenly his ass is empty and he’s writhing and pushing down for more but strong hands grab at his errant arms and slam them over his head, pin them at the wrists then expertly tie them to prevent wandering hands. Jensen is leaning over him. Sweat beads from his forehead and trickles down the line of his cheek, it continues down his neck, picking up size and pace over the sheen of Jen’s heaving chest. There’s barely any green left in the passionately intense eyes, pupils blown wide with desire and the pink bow lips are open in a perfect 0 as he pants to catch air.
”Yes, God, yes!” confirms Jared. He wants it like this looking up at the beauty that has chosen him. A demanding grip splays his legs wide, displays him for use and he’s bucking his hips impatiently.
“Sss!” he’s being pushed back down and his dick is being stroked with curiosity. Finally, finally, when it feels like the anticipation might snap something within him, he feels blunt pressure and slick against his furled muscle. It pushes and burns. Jen isn’t stopping, he’s gasping and adjusting his angle, forcing it further until the head is buried in the clench of delicate velvet walls. Jen continues and Jared grits his teeth and holds his breath. Jen bottoms out with a groan and Jared throws his head to the side and strains against his ties as the cock that fills him slides back and he’s empty and wanting, begging for more even as he meets the over-eager, slamming stroke that takes his next breath away. Jared isn’t sure what is more erotic, the full ache and scrape that fills his hot channel and invades the spaces in his soul, or the lustful concentration and bliss expressed in Jen’s face with every trembling, purposeful twitch of muscle.
This isn’t a porno, not even a teen movie. There’s nothing pretty or steady about this sex. There’s no magical formula that finds his prostate with every rocking motion but there are moments when the slightest brush over that sensitive place lights stars and fireworks and fuck, fuck, fuck, please do it again sensation. Jensen’s rhythm falters and changes, there are moments of painful inaccuracy but Jared will take it all because this is everything he never knew he needed but was hollow without.
They lose themselves in the brutal pace of the slip and slide and when Jen’s fingers curl about the head of Jared’s cock, they rub at the slit and he’s unable to hold back any longer. He comes with blinding white intensity that shakes every nerve to the tip of his toes. There’s the hot splash of his own fluid on the curve of his belly, his muscles clench and squeeze the cock plunging deep into him and Jen’s coming too, there’s a sticky wet spurt bathing his tight channel and a loud cry that sounds like “Jaah.”
Jensen presses tight into him until he’s soft, seemingly unwilling to let go of the moment. Then he’s sliding his flaccid member out of Jared’s ass leaving an aching emptiness and trickling fluid. He’s smiling, giggling, his cheeks are bright red and he’s puffing air into busy lungs but he wastes no time in flinging himself down to latch his lips against Jared’s, to slide them sloppy over his, push his tongue into his mouth and explore the gums, teeth, tongue within. He pulls off when Jared is dizzy with exhaustion and lack of oxygen, nipping at his bottom lip and humming approval.
The top of the bed linen is soaked with their sweat and there’s a pooling patch of come drying sticky on the comforter. Jared pulls at his binds with cramping arms and Jensen wearily unties him and then collapses beside him. “mmm” he sighs.
“Mmhmm. Wow,” confirms Jared. He waits for Jensen to move, it won’t be easy to let him go back to his own space after the communion they just shared but he’s realistic about his lover’s limitations.
There’s another contented sigh beside him and Jen shuffles to lift the comforter, Jared lifts himself up so he can place it over the top of them both. Jensen lies flat on his back, side by side with Jared, but not quite touching, and reaches to grasp one of his hands. His fingers interlock with Jared’s and then his lashes are drooping, his eyelids closing. Jared is sated but he fights his natural exhaustion just for now, for these few moments, to revel in the intimacy of a shared bed. He turns on his side, to face Jensen and drifts to sleep to the vision of this sleeping man, with sweat shined skin, a pink glow, kiss swollen lips and mussed hair. Their hands remain entwined until morning.
A cab arrives early to take Jeff and Jared to the airport. It is bright yellow and highly visible. Jared clings to Jensen and Jensen stands stiffly in the embrace but allows him the comfort. Every detail has been plotted and examined but it feels like goodbye and Jared doesn’t want to go. Sadie licks drool over his hand and he wipes it on his pants with a “Eww,” and a laugh.
“We don’t have to involve Jensen,” says Jeff suddenly, “We can get Misha there and ask him. We’ve got him cold on the money laundering. Do we need more?”
Jared shakes his head, “We have to know. Somebody out there is trying to kill Jen. Someone set fire to Linden and is determined to ruin your life. Jen can’t spend the rest of his life not knowing if somebody out there is waiting to hurt him and I’m not condemning Misha to that, if it isn’t him.”
“If nothing happens, we still won’t know for sure.”
Jared sighs and his shoulders sag, “Misha took the bait awful easy. I think we should do this if Jen is in agreement.”
‘I’m good,’ signs Jen.
Lorretta chooses the moment to come out of the kitchen. She flaps her arms to shoo Jeff and Jared to their taxi. “Misters Padalecki you will miss your flight. Now go. I am making pancakes for Mister Jensen and I don’t want them to burn. If you come home on time I will make my special moussaka.”
Jeff perks up at the thought, “That is every reason to make sure there are no delays Lorretta.”
Jensen watches until the cab is out of sight. He takes a shower and then returns to his studio room to dress. He stops in his tracks when he notices the easel, set up and facing him. There is a watercolour resting in its support. He steps softly to be beside it, to reach out and touch the colors. It has been painted quickly but with flow and passion. He recognizes himself, sleeping peacefully in his room, with Sadie stretched flat and snoozing by his side. There is movement implied in the shape and contour of the bright drapes that blow towards them. The moment could be any one of a number since Jensen has come to live with Jared. He is struck by the thought that Jared has studied him in his sleep, but the scene is one of tranquillity and belonging. He thinks the only thing that could have made it more perfect would be the inclusion of Jared himself. Jared’s signature graces the right hand corner and it is simply titled Home. There’s a note by its side in Jared’s looping scrawl, don’t ever leave. It is the most precious present he has ever been given and he stares at it, calculating the number of every color until Lorretta’s call to breakfast forces his attention.
Part 22
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