Smoke & Lightning: Born To Be Wild (4/?)

[eviltwin]

MASTER POST

Title: Smoke And Lightning: Born To Be Wild (4/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Adult.
Wordcount: 4,056
Summary: AU. They're born to be wild. At least, Jared is. Jensen's learning, though, and this road-trip that they're on will teach him plenty of lessons. It's a good thing, too, because he'll need what he's learnt when they return and venture onto an altogether more serious step in their relationship. Trust is a major aspect for the both of them and Jensen's will be tested to breaking point as the boys learn how they'll cope together on the road...and off it.
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.



CHAPTER FOUR

Days of just them, just the bike, and just the open road -- those times were perfect. The days were warm enough to open the vent zippers on the jackets. They were really too warm for the weather, but it was better to air on the side of caution. If the bike spilled, the road wouldn't eat up their skin nearly as much with the thick leather on. But the wind cooled them for the most part, as they blasted down the road.

The nights were much cooler, or at least seemed that way after being in the sun all day. On one of the gasoline stops, Jensen bought some cheap sunscreen. It was better than nothing, since he tended to burn, while Jared always browned up nicely. Already, Jensen had noticed more and more freckles on his nose and cheeks. He hated freckles. Jared seemed to think they were adorable.

They rode solidly for a couple of days. They went on late into the night, until the sky was black, peppered with stars, and lit with an orange moon. Jensen tapped Jared on the shoulder, pointing upward. Jared nodded, giving Jensen a thumbs-up sign. Their silent conversations had gotten pretty good as of late. They finally stopped during the night to set up the tent. They did the same thing the second night, finding a very picturesque spot to camp. Jensen asked it if was legal. Jared didn't care.

Jensen helped Jared, the only light coming from the bike's headlamp and the moon. Once the tent was set up, a good distance away from the deserted road and in the protection of what trees there were, they crawled inside and stripped down to nearly nothing. Jensen was sure they would sleep -- they were both exhausted. But when he felt Jared's slight touch grazing up his hip, along his midriff and arms, he couldn't help but lean into him. They didn't worry about keeping quiet; no one else was around. They merely coaxed each other into a frenzy, nothing but taut skin and flexing muscle, heavy breaths and sweat-lathered skin. Jensen propped Jared's legs up on his shoulders and pushed both of them to the breaking point. Jared gave up control and let Jensen hold him down, dominate him until they were both coming hard, bodies rocking, jaws slack and hearts pounding.

Collapsing, Jensen turned into his side and immediately felt his eyes growing heavy. Before he fell into a deep sleep, he checked his watch, pushing a button on the side of it so that the face glowed green. It was well past midnight, the start of a new day already. He let his arms fall down to the makeshift bed and closed his eyes. He could already hear a soft snore coming from Jared, something that made him jealous for a moment. He was, however, quick to follow.

Morning arrived abruptly. Jensen woke with a start, gasping and lifting his head off the leather jacket he'd used as a pillow. He looked around the tent. It was near stifling inside, the sun already high in the sky. Birds chirruped and welcomed the new day. Blinking hard, Jensen turned and saw Jared still sleeping beside him. He wasn't sure what had awoken him until he heard the soft buzzing again. He groped around the tent for a minute, finding his jeans and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He flipped open the cell and looked at the display. A missed call from a number he didn't recognize. Sighing, he closed his eyes and flopped back upon the covers. After a moment, he gently nudged Jared.

"Wake up," he said when Jared mumbled something at him. "It's already nine o'clock."

Jared rolled over and rested his head on Jensen's shoulder. "Five more minutes," he requested.

With the suffocating air already in the tent, the added heat of Jared's body was too much to bear. Jensen's tongue lolled out and he pushed against the man. "Ugh, get off me," he complained. "It's too hot." He got up, dressed himself in the clothes he'd worn the previous night, and headed out of the tent. It seemed almost cold outside at first until his body adjusted to the temperature. He longed for a shower, but settled for a bottle of water from the saddle bags on the bike. He cracked the cap and twisted it off, pouring nearly the entire bottle over his head. Eyes closed, Jensen was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven. His shirt was sopping, plastered to his chest and belly. Water had cascaded down inside his jeans, darkening the fabric. He didn't care. He felt better. And no doubt, with this heat, he'd dry out in a heartbeat. He drank down the rest of the water and packed up what he could while he waited for Jared. By the time he was done, Jared was dressed and out of the tent.

"Well, Goddamn," Jared cursed, smiling. "I miss the wet T-shirt contest?"

"There was no contest," Jensen returned. "I won."

"You'd win every time," he winked back. Yawning loudly, Jared stretched and raked his fingers through his hair, scratching at his head. "How about some breakfast?" he asked.

Jensen closed his eyes for a moment. "I want," he said slowly, "coffee."

"Mm."

"Pancakes."

"Mm-hmm," Jared mumbled, watching him.

Jensen's eyes were still closed, even though he heard Jared stepping closer to him. "Homefries," he continued.

"Yeah?"

Jared's arm snaked around his waist, their bodies connecting. "And sausage," he finally finished.

"Hm," Jared mumbled, leaning down to set his lips to Jensen's neck. "You'd think we didn't have dinner or something."

"Yeah, weird how Hostess cupcakes and Cheetos don't fill you right up, eh?"

"Well, how 'bout I make it up to you tonight, take you someplace for a beer?"

Jensen arched his eyebrows and shrugged. "Sounds like a plan to me."

There was a cheap little truck stop a half-hour down the road. Jared parked the bike, and they went in and got two Lumberjack Breakfast Specials. Jensen wasn't sure where the Lumberjacks were in a town mostly void of trees, but decided not to mention that. Their waitress seemed to have missed her own morning coffee and didn't particularly look like she was in a chatty mood. Her lipstick was smudged and a color somewhere between fluorescent pink and street-walker-red. She had on bright blue eye shadow and smelled like Ben Gay and old petunias. Jared tried not to smile at her, feeling the need to mock, while Jensen just stared, his eyes wide.

"Holy crap," he whispered to Jared when she'd gone.

"Careful, Jen," he warned. "She looks like she could snap you like a dry chicken bone."

"If I had to get up that early to put that much make-up on, I'd be pissy too," he nodded.

Jared laughed loudly, the few guffaws enough to make the scattered patrons turn and look at them. "Lucky for you, you're already pretty."

He tried unsuccessfully not to flutter his long lashes when he rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. "You're biased," he reminded him.

"Yes, I am," he agreed. "But I never tell a lie."

"Liar."

Jared only laughed in return. They finished their breakfasts, downed their coffee and geared up for the road. There was a little more traffic this time, making Jared weave between cars as he passed, leaving them all in their wake. He waved to one kid in the back of a station wagon, who was thrilled to see a Harley passing by their car. He got plenty of scowls from the parents, but didn't let that bother him.

They didn't stop for lunch. When they pulled over long enough to stretch, they decided that they were still stuffed from breakfast. They got a couple of drinks from the archaic convenience store and headed back out. They drove for a little longer, stopping now and then when Jensen saw a photo opportunity. He kept his camera with him all the time on the bike, slung cross-wise over his chest, and they stopped when the sun began to set so he could frame it for a shot. He had a whole series of sunsets and they were a good reminder that they needed to stop and find someplace to sleep.

The only hotel room they could get was small and not very clean. Jensen kicked some of the stuff around before he sat down on the rickety bed. The springs groaned under his weight, the headboard tapped the wall. "Well, this is enchanting," he frowned.

"Hey," Jared shrugged. "You want to go have a good time tonight? Then you have to give up a few luxuries."

Jensen rolled his eyes, getting up from the mattress. "Alright, grasshopper," he teased. "Let's roll."

The club was the only one for quite a few miles, and the parking lot was packed with all different kinds of bikes. Perhaps a couple different clans, the way the bikes were parked in crowds.

Part of Jensen was looking forward to the few beers he knew they'd have. Another part of him was not looking forward to the women flirting with Jared. It didn't matter where they went, someone always hit on him. He felt more the ugly duckling as they went. He knew, too, that Jared never meant it that way, never encouraged the attention. It was just genetics, he guessed.

The tavern was a little scarier than Jensen was hoping for. The music was loud, but the neon lights were old. Some were burnt out or flickering, and all of them were dusty. There was a thin carpet on part of the floor, sticky with spilled beer, blood and God knew what else. They stood at the bar, ordering drinks while Jensen looked around the place. "Holy crap, when was the last time the health inspector was here?"

"They aren't required to come out this far," Jared told him.

Eyes widening, Jensen looked at him. "Seriously?"

Jared laughed, draping his arm over Jensen's shoulders. "Goddamn, you're cute," he grinned.

Jensen smiled sarcastically, not liking being the brunt of the joke. He raised his beer bottle to Jared and took a healthy swig.

Jared downed half his beer at once. He belched and sighed happily. "I'm gonna go get us a table," he said, motioning to the two pool tables.

Jensen wrinkled his nose. "I don't feel like playing pool."

"Come on," he encouraged, a hand coming to rest on Jensen's knee. "A couple games, a couple beers and we'll go."

"You go play," Jensen offered. "I'll sit here and... Not touch anything."

Jared smiled at him. "Wimp," he winked. He leaned in closer and placed a quick kiss on Jensen's cheek. "Alright, I'll check on you now and then."

"I'm not an invalid," Jensen nodded. "Go play your games."

Jared hung around the pool table for fifteen minutes before he got in a game. Jensen stayed where he was at the bar, turned in his chair so that he could watch the game. He ordered two more beers, brought one to Jared, and moved back to his place. He had half of it gone when he felt a tap to his shoulder.

"Who's winning?"

Jensen looked at the man. He was tattooed, wearing a leather vest but no shirt. He had a cross dangling from his neck, and a ring through his ear. His eyes were blue, and the corners of his mouth were curled into a permanent smile. "Stripes," Jensen answered. Jay was ahead by a hair.

The man nodded. He held out his hand. "Argo," he said.

Jensen took the hand, shaking it. "Jensen," he returned.

Argo didn't let go of Jensen's hand. He pulled him a little closer, spying at the ink on his arms. "Nice tats," he said. "What's with the fish?"

For some reason, Jensen felt on display. He took his hand away from Argo's and tugged at his sleeves, trying to cover up. "I'm a swimmer," he said.

"For real," Argo nodded. He took another drink of his own beer, watching Jensen turn back to the game and his drink. "Haven't seen you here before."

Turning to look at him again, Jensen swallowed the mouthful of beer he had. "Uh, no," he returned. "We're just passing through. Road trip."

"Alright, yeah," he said, nodding his head. He took the last swallow of beer into his mouth and waved the bottle at the bartender, holding up two fingers.

Jensen turned back to the game, trying to make it look like he was more interested than he really was. He was unnerved by Argo.

As if reading his mind, he felt another nudge to his shoulder. He turned and saw Argo motioning to the bar top. He looked down and saw two fresh bottles of beer and two shot glasses filled with a dark amber liquid.

"Come on," Argo smiled.

"Oh," Jensen stammered for a moment. "No, I really shouldn't." He could easily remember the last time he'd had too much liquor, and didn't particularly care to repeat that incident.

"Why not?" he asked. "You the designated driver?"

Jensen chuckled politely. "No," he answered. "I just really shouldn't. Jay..."

"Aw, you're buddy's playin' a game," Argo said. "Look, he's paying for another one. We got time to have a shot."

His upbringing told him to shut up and accept the gift, even if he didn't want it. He smiled politely, turned in his chair and took the shot glass from Argo's fingers. "Thank you," he said, his voice not loud enough to be heard over the 70's classic rock blasting from the stereo.

"Down the hatch," Argo grinned. He threw the liquor back, growling at the fire it created in his chest.

Jensen nodded and did the same thing. Head snapping back, he downed the liquor as quickly as he could. He scrunched up his eyes and shook his head, tongue lolling out. "Wow," he breathed raggedly.

"Got a kick, don't it?" Argo laughed.

"Little bit," Jensen nodded and smiled.

"Henry!" Argo called. "Two more, and this time mean it, goddamit."

Jared reached for his beer bottle. He brought it to his lips, tipping it back further and further until he realized that it was empty. He glanced over to the bar, wondering where Jensen had gotten to. Usually, Jen replaced the beer before Jared had even finished the previous one.

Jensen was at the bar, his back to Jared, laughing loudly at the man next to him. The strange man had his arm draped over Jensen's shoulders and was almost nose-to-nose with him. They both picked up a shot glass each and clinked them together, amber liquid sloshing over the sides just slightly.

"Your turn, man."

Jared turned just as Jensen and the strange man downed the shots. He took his shot and then forfeited the rest of the game. He handed the cue to the next player and headed over to the bar.

"Jen."

Turning, Jensen's bright grin fell to Jared's concerned face. "Jay!" he greeted loudly. "Jay-jay, where've you been?"

"Are you drunk?"

Jensen scoffed, wildly brushing the question away. "No," he laughed. "No, no. Why?"

"Because you look drunk," Jared nodded. "You sound drunk."

"No," he laughed.

"Who's your friend?"

Jensen motioned to the biker next to him. "Thi's Frank."

Argo reached out his hand, firmly shaking Jared's hand. "Argo," he corrected.

"Frank," Jensen continued, "thi's Jay."

"Well, howdy, Jay," Argo greeted. "You're welcome to join us."

"Looks like you two have partied enough." He reached for Argo's arm, still slung over Jensen's shoulders, and pushed it aside. "Time to go."

"Aw, kill-joy," Jensen mumbled. "We're havin' a good time, come on."

Jared made him stand. "Well, you're the only one."

"No," Jensen said again. "Frank's havin' a good time too, y'know."

"Frank," Jared told him, "is rigging the drinking game here. He ain't half as bad-off as you. Come on, we're going."

Argo stood from his chair, putting his arm around Jensen's shoulders again. "I don't think the princess here wants to leave."

Jensen laughed boisterously, his head rocking back, all of his pretty, perfect white teeth showing.

Jared glared. "Maybe you want to say that again?"

Argo grinned menacingly. "I said, she's with me," he told him. "So, you can either go back to your game, go home, or I can have my boys escort you right out those doors. What'll it be?"

Jared chuckled, not bothering to hide the annoyance on his face. He wasn't sure if he was angry at Jensen for getting drunk or if he was feeling his jealous streak finally flare. He took a step closer to Argo and looked down at him. "He," he began, in carefully measured words and tone, "came here with me, and he's leaving with me."

"He?" He took another look at Jensen. "You sure you know what you got, son?"

Jared didn't answer, only pursing his lips, understanding the verbal attack.

"'Cause the way you planted that kiss on him a little while ago, I just assumed he had a fuckin' pussy," Argo continued. "I had the same idea. Hell, I was going to get her drunk and take her home with me. With the bleached hair and those pretty lashes, I could see how you could get confused."

Jensen's laughter was suddenly gone. He reached up and tugged at his bleach-blonde locks. "Hey," he complained, a deep scowl creasing his brow.

"Yeah, I'm trying to figure out where any of this is your business," Jared said to the biker. "Is who I'm fucking the next big story in Bikers Are Us?"

Argo chuckled. "Here's the thing, Jay," he grinned, the devil shining in his eyes. "We don't care who you're fucking. I don't care if you make this little fucking fruit over here scream your name every night. I don't care if you take it up the ass from him. Whatever. But I do care that you brought it to my town, into my bar."

The music was still playing, covering up any sound softer than a shout, but Jared was aware of the rest of the bikers around them, closing in. Three of them had cue sticks. They could take him out in a heartbeat. And he had a feeling they could seriously fuck him and Jensen up, if not worse. Staring into Argo's eyes, Jared took a moment to make his decision. He wasn't one to turn and run, his tail between his legs, and he wouldn't do that this time. But he was smart enough to not get himself and Jensen killed.

Nodding, Jared smiled. "You're in luck," he told him. "Because we're done with this place."

They made it back to the motel without incident. Well, if you didn't count the three times Jensen fell over on his way out to the bike. Even when Jared had him settled onto the bike, Jensen managed to topple over.

"Helm't threw m'off," Jensen had told him, crawling back up to his knees.

Jared had sighed and hefted Jensen to his feet again. It was a short distance back to the motel, so Jared put Jensen on the front of the bike and steered from behind him.

At the door to their room, Jared unlocked the door and stepped aside. He still had a grip on Jensen's coat, guiding him. Jensen took a few steps forward, aiming for the room, but missing. His forehead bounced off the doorjamb and he went reeling backwards, crumpling to the ground.

"Holy hell!" Jensen yelled, sprawled out on the pavement. "The door clocked me!"

Jared rolled his eyes and sighed again. Under different circumstances, all of this probably would have been funny. But honestly, it just wasn't. He reached down and took hold of Jensen's jacket and the back of his jeans, hefting him up and into the room. He kicked the door closed with one foot and hauled Jensen over to the bed, throwing him down atop it. Jensen laughed the whole time, which did nothing more than infuriate Jared.

Jared locked the door and threw the keys on the broken dresser. He took off his jacket, let it drop to the floor and ripped off his T-shirt. He headed to the second queen-sized bed in the room -- the one Jensen was not laying upon, giggling like a fifteen year old girl. He unfastened his jeans, but didn't shed them. He sat down on the bed to remove his boots, setting them aside.

"You're mad at me," Jensen said, wagging a finger at Jared.

"What was your first clue?" He started taking off his socks, cramming them inside the boots.

"You're not talking to me," he answered. "Well... You weren't, I mean." Jensen wanted to ask him what the big deal was. He was just socializing after all. But, even in his drunken state, he knew that might not be the best way to win Jared over. He sat up from the bed, took off his jacket and crawled down to the floor.

Jared stuffed his last sock into the neck of his boots and sighed when Jensen invaded his space, resting on his knees between Jared's legs. He didn't say anything to him, just backed away enough to look down at him.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said softly.

His words were slurred, but Jared was impressed that the kid had enough awareness to admit that he'd been wrong. He stared at Jensen, trying to decide what to do. "I should be mad," he finally answered.

Jensen smiled. "But?"

He could feel Jensen's hands at his sides, thumbs looped into the loosened waist. "But I was jealous more than anything else." He didn't like that he had been, and he didn't like admitting it to someone.

Making a face, Jensen looked confused. "Jealous of what?" he asked.

"Of that guy hanging on you."

"Tha's just Frank."

"Jensen."

"What?"

"His name was Argo."

"Oh." He thought for a moment and then shook his head, looking into Jared's eyes. "He didn't like my hair, did'e?"

"He didn't like a lot of things."

"You should know't you don't have anything t'worry 'bout," Jensen told him. "I'm yours. Hun'red percent."

Jared didn't seem convinced. He nodded his head ever so slightly, sighing and frowning at the same time. He gazed over at Jensen, watching the man lean into him. He closed his eyes when their lips met, the kiss slow and soft, warm and wet. He shook his head, pushing Jensen back away from him. "You're drunk," he said. Not that he wouldn't ever have taken advantage of that, but it just didn't feel right at the moment.

Jensen shook his head. "I'm okay," he told him. "I feel a lot clearer now." He kissed Jared again, his tongue swiping across the man's bottom lip, teeth nipping gently as he went.

The embrace became more urgent and desperate when Jared felt Jensen's fingers curl into fists, tugging insistently at the waist of his jeans. Jared's own hands crept up to touch Jensen's face, feel his jaw working amidst the kiss.

Suddenly, Jensen pulled out of the embrace. He curled his spine, head forced low, and threw up the alcohol in his stomach. Jared could do nothing but sit there, listening to the sound of retching and then wetness hitting the carpet, the stuff splashing up onto his leg and foot. Sighing once again, he waited until Jensen was done and reached for him, steadying him.

"Come on," Jared said to him. "Up."

"M'okay," Jensen mumbled.

"No, you're not," he returned. He put Jensen in the second bed, taking time to undress him and work the blankets from underneath him. He covered him, then fetched a cold glass of water, setting it on the table between the two beds. "Water," he told him. But he was pretty sure Jensen was out.

What was on the carpet was mostly liquor, but Jared wasn't cleaning it up. He got a couple of hand towels from the bathroom and covered the spot. Then, he turned on the shower and stepped inside. Not the way he'd envisioned ending the night, but he'd be sure to remind Jensen that he owed him one. Come morning, he was definitely going to know.

--TBC--