Fic Repost: Endless Winter of my Solitude
Endless Winter of my Solitude
Words: 5,300
Thanks to: Thanks to: chibi_lurrel for alpha reading & infinite research help, sorrynotsorry for beta reading.
Written for spn_reversebang
Art by: deannawesson over here.
A repost of this story since it appears LJ ate my old entry.
Endless Winter of my Solitude
T minus 20 days
"I can't believe we're really here," Jensen says as he wanders through Jared's room, which is modest and sparsely furnished, but otherwise clean and comfortable. "Fucking Olympic Village."
"It's amazing," Jared agrees, flopping back onto his freshly made bed. "We made it, Jensen. We made it to the big leagues."
"Hell yeah," Jensen says, and can feel the muscles in his face almost aching with the shit-eating grin he's been sporting all day. "I don't think I’m gonna start believing it for a while, though. Not until I'm actually on the ice again. Maybe not even then."
"Yeah." Jared sits up and stretches, a flash of rippling abs peeking out of the gap between his shirt and pants. "Fuck, it's like-I don't even know what to say. I'm fucking overwhelmed here."
"I know. It doesn't feel real," Jensen wanders over to look out the window, where there are other athletes and coaches and trainers tromping through the snowy ground to their respective rooms. "Some of the guys on my team don't care at all-they've been through this a bunch of times already so it's like old hat for them."
"Yeah, my coach has been to so many Olympics she has a special suitcase she keeps in storage just for this," Jared says. "Sandy's still shitting herself, though. She sent me like, twenty text messages in the past three hours and keeps tweeting nonstop."
"I'm surprised you guys aren't stuck sharing a room," Jensen says, turning back to Jared. "You know, figure skating partners and all."
"Well, we're not actually dating or anything anymore," Jared says, raising himself onto on elbow. "And I think her boyfriend would be pretty pissed if we were sharing."
"I think your boyfriend would be pretty pissed," Jensen says as he walks over to settle between Jared's legs.
"Wouldn't want that," Jared says as he tips his head back for a brief kiss.
"We have a couple of hours before that meeting we have to get to," Jensen murmurs as he puts his hands on Jared's shoulders and deepens the kiss. "Maybe we should do something to celebrate."
"Like what?" Jared asks, expression adorably earnest.
"Oh you know," Jensen says as he tries to nudge Jared backwards onto the bed. Unfortunately, Jared is like a brick wall and doesn't move. "A little bit of this. A little bit of that."
Jared abruptly pulls away from Jensen, causing him to lose his balance and nearly face-plant on the bed. "Wait-are you talking about sex?"
"Um," Jensen straightens up. "Yes?"
"You're kidding, right?" Jared asks.
"Kidding?" Jensen repeats. "Who kids about having sex?"
"Jensen." Jared scoots backwards up the bed when Jensen makes another grab for his shoulders. "We can't have sex before our events. Nobody has sex before their events. It's bad luck!"
"That is definitely not true," Jensen says. "I can tell you that for a fact based on the very loud and very freaky sounding noises coming from the people in the rooms next to mine."
"Okay, fine, but those people are going to lose in all their events," Jared says dismissively. "Ursula was telling me that every single pair she's ever coached who won a gold medal abstained from having sex from the beginning of the Olympics till after their events. And she has coached eight gold medal winning pairs."
"Oh come on," Jensen says. "And how many pairs abstain and still end up not placing at all? It's just a crazy superstition."
"Says the guy who refuses to change his socks or underwear for three days before every big game," Jared retorts. "And by the way--ew on that. Still."
"That is not superstition," Jensen replies hotly. "That is just good sense. You have to break in-"
"I don't even want to hear it," Jared says. "You have your rituals and I have mine. Let's leave it at that."
"Like that weird little dance you do with Sandy right before you go on the ice?" Jensen raises an eyebrow.
"That's a warm-up," Jared replies defensively. "Unless you want me to talk about all the homoerotic stuff you do in the locker room with your teammates. Because I'm not really the jealous type, Jensen, but there's the occasional pat on the ass and then there's groping."
"It's not-" Jensen stops himself, because Jared's never participated in a team sport before, so he wouldn't understand the spirit of camaraderie. "Come on. Let's be reasonable here. We've been dating for how long now-"
"About a month, give or take six months of very flirtatious friendship before that," Jared supplies helpfully.
"Right," Jensen says. "And we haven't had sex yet."
"It is a little weird," Jared admits. "But it's not that I don't want to! Because I do-I really really do."
"So don't you think it's crazy to waste the first opportunity we've had to be alone together for a decent period of time when we're not both totally beat from training?" Jensen puts on his best wheedling tone. "They even gave us condoms with the little Olympic rings logo on them!"
"I may have given mine away to Misha," Jared says, eyes cutting guiltily away from Jensen's.
"Are you serious?" Jensen says. "But that's-now we only have my five!"
"I wanted to eliminate as many roads to temptation as possible!" Jared says, hands waving emphatically around. Jensen thinks he must still be in that brain-dead honeymoon phase because he still finds Jared's flailing oddly endearing to watch. "And it's just-you're so hot it's already hard enough as it is!"
"Jared." Jensen's voice softens as he sees how genuinely distraught by all of this Jared is, and he resists the urge to make a crude innuendo about things that are hard. "Look, we don't need to do things that require condoms. We can-you know."
"No mutually assisted orgasms of any kind," Jared says flatly. "Ursula was very clear on this."
"Dude." Jensen flops down into a chair by the desk next to the bed. "I can't believe you're letting your coach control your fucking sex life."
"Oh, because your coach doesn't control your sleeping schedule, eating habits, or what movies and books you are or aren't allowed to read during hockey season?" Jared asks.
Jensen winces; this is what he gets for opening up to Jared about the craziness of playing professional hockey. "It's a silly superstition, Jared. Like the one Misha has about not eating anything red for a month before a competition."
"Sure, tell that to the 92 percent of Olympic gold winners who have successfully abstained and walked away with million dollar endorsements."
"Okay, now I know you're just making up numbers," Jensen says, and Jared sighs.
"It isn't just about the su-the tradition," Jared says. "I told you what happened last time I had sex within a week of my qualifiers-I pulled a muscle in a very uncomfortable place, and there was, you know, soreness. I could barely do my spins and lifts with Sandy, it was so bad."
"We don't have to have, um, strenuous relations," Jensen says. "We can stick with nice, easy blowjobs. Handjobs, even. Anything."
"It's a slippery slope." Jared shakes his head. "That's what I thought last time, too. 'It's only a blowjob, or a handjob, then I'm off to eight hours of solid z's.' But half an hour later, I'm on my hands and knees getting my ass reamed six ways to Sunday and screaming my goddamn throat hoarse."
"You're um-" Jensen coughs. "You're a screamer, huh?"
"I'm a lot of things. A lot of things I really would like to show you. But not until after the events." Jared's expression grows more serious. "I know this may not make any sense to you but I can't do anything to mess this up-not for me, and not for Sandy. I won't let everyone down because I can't keep it in my pants."
"No, I get it, I do. It's fine, we'll wait." Jensen sighs, and drops his head. "I can't believe I'm being cockblocked by the motherfucking Olympics."
* * * * * *
It wasn't that they hadn't tried to have sex before the Olympics-they’d tried, oh God had they tried--but between the intense training schedules that left them so exhausted that it was all they could do to chat for an hour on the phone before passing out at the end of the day, and the universe conspiring against them on the one day of the week they had off for date night-their attempts had not met with much success.
When Jensen first met Jared at the ice rink they trained at, they'd hit it off immediately. Jensen had been cautious at first--it had been too much to hope that a guy this funny and awesome and hot could possibly be available and into sucking cock too. But after months of chance encounters, dubious attempts at flirtation, and investigation into whether Jared and Sandy were just ice skating partners-Jensen had finally worked up the nerve to ask Jared out and nearly peed himself in relief when he said yes.
The first attempt to have sex had taken place at the end of their first date. Jared breathlessly invited Jensen upstairs after what had stated out as a semi-chaste goodnight kiss morphed into a pretty rigorous making out and grinding session. Jensen assented eagerly, and they'd made it all the way into Jared's apartment before his cell phone began to ring. And ring. And ring.
"Persistent, huh?" Jensen said after the fifth repetition of some Taylor Swift song played.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why my sister would be calling at this time of night," Jared said, pushing the hair from his flushed face. "Let me just-"
"Yeah, no, it's fine," Jensen replied as Jared got up off the couch and wriggled his iPhone out of his obscenely tight pants pocket. Jensen stared idly up at the ceiling and noted a few cracks in the plaster that looked kind of like The Big Dipper, and tried to remember if he had thought to pack a condom in his wallet.
"-what do you mean Mom's been in an accident?" Jared's voice hit a high note, and Jensen had kissed goodbye to all fantasies of seeing any action that night.
The hours following that had been tense and uneasy ones: Jensen driving a frantic Jared to the hospital, meeting his sister under highly inauspicious circumstances, and trying not to pass out at the sight of all the blood in the emergency room.
But in the end, it all turned out mostly okay: Jared's mom emerged with a mild concussion and nothing worse; Jared and his sister both seemed appreciative of Jensen making coffee runs for them; and Jensen manfully avoided fainting when he passed by someone with a pretty disgusting head trauma.
Round two took place at the end of their second date, in Jensen's apartment. They'd made it all the way to the bedroom, Jared jokingly making a big production of turning off his phone while Jensen gave himself an internal fistbump over the fresh pack of condoms and lube he'd bought earlier. Things were just starting to heat up on the bed when they also began to do so in the rest of the apartment-literally.
"Wow, you like to keep it toasty in here, huh?" Jared murmured against Jensen's lips as they fumbled their shirts off.
"Hm," Jensen replied, because actually, he preferred his apartment cold given his tendency to sweat in temperatures over fifty degrees. A strong preference for living in refrigerator-like climes wasn't a trait that had endeared him to any of his old roommates, but it sure as hell came in handy for playing ice hockey all day. "Now that you mention it, it is a little warm in here."
"Guess it must be because you're so hot." Jared had the good grace to wink and not be offended when Jensen couldn't hold back a chuckle.
Things were heading in a very promising direction when Jensen first smelled something: acrid, bitter, and suspiciously reminiscent of the last time he attempted to cook a turkey. "Is that-do you smell something?"
"Huh?" Jared replied, looking up from undoing Jensen's belt. "Um, I dunno. My nose is kinda stuffed up."
"It smells like-" Jensen sat up as he took a deeper inhale. "Like something burning."
"Do you have a fireplace?" Jared asked as he reluctantly sat back too. "You don't smoke, do you?"
"No, on both counts." Jensen swung his legs off the bed. "Sorry, let me go check for a second. It's probably nothing."
"Okay," Jared replied. "I'll just be changing into something more comfortable here then."
"I hope you mean your birthday suit and not, like, women's lingerie," Jensen replied as he got out of bed. Jared's only reply was a wink.
Jensen opened the door, wandered into the living room, and found the entire kitchen filled with smoke.
"Time to go!" Jensen shouted, dashing back into his bedroom to grab some clothing and Jared's hand. "Apartment's on fire!"
They firefighters arrived ten minutes later and helpfully put out the blaze that had engulfed Jensen's kitchen. Jared-who had time to grab his shirt but not his coat-stuck around, shivering, until Jensen took pity on him and sent him home.
"I'm okay, really," Jensen said. "You have practice in the morning and I'm gonna be up for a while dealing with this."
"Are you sure?" Jared asked, teeth chattering. "I could-"
"It's fine," Jensen smiled and touched Jared's hand. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
The third round was both their faults. They went out to a perfectly nice dinner filled with lovely conversation--half of which was devoted to Jensen's rants about his insurance company--and far too much wine.
They'd hopped a cab back to Jared's place, cracked open another ill-advised bottle of wine, and made jokes about another act of god interrupting their attempts at sexual relations. But in the end, it was nothing nearly so dramatic as a tornado or earthquake completely and utterly destroying any hope Jensen had about getting laid in the near future.
What actually happened was this: Jensen had gotten so drunk he couldn't get it up, and Jared fell asleep midway through humping at Jensen's thigh.
The next morning, which Jensen had optimistically blocked off as a time that would be dedicated to enthusiastic day-after sex, was unfortunately spent with both Jared and Jensen groaning and clutching at their heads in pathetic, erection-killing agony.
Two days later, they were both on planes flying to the Olympic Village in Vancouver.
Cruel Universe: 3, Jensen: 0.
* * * * * *
T minus 15 days
"Why so down, bro?" Misha asks as he takes a seat on the bench next to Jensen.
"Oh, you know. Just a little bitter that everyone's fucking like bunnies all around us and I'm living like a monk, that's all," Jensen says gloomily.
"Jared's still sticking with that sex is bad luck thing, huh?" Misha sounds surprisingly sympathetic. "Bummer."
"Yeah, I mean, at least it'll be over soon." Jensen doesn’t turn his gaze from the ice where Jared is executing a neat triple axel. "Today's his first day and tomorrow's the last day of his event, so."
"Hang in there," Misha says with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "When you finally get there, it'll be worth it. Olympics sex is the bomb-all the adrenaline and fucking competition in the air-gets the blood pounding. Among other things."
"I take it you know from personal experience?" Jensen raises an eyebrow; this is Misha's first time at the Olympics too.
"Well, I don't want to gloat or anything," Misha says, even though it's clear that he really does.
"No, it's cool." Jensen offers his right hand up for a fistbump. "I might as well live vicariously through you for now."
"Awesome, man." Misha gives him a hearty bump. "I got laid today, yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. All different people. All epically hot."
"Nice."
"The only downside is that I'm running out of condoms," Misha says. "And from what I hear, other people are too so I can't rely on them to have one ready."
"There's a big bowl filled with them over in the health administration building." Jensen keeps an eye on Jared, who seems done with his warm up on the ice and is skating towards the boards again. "I heard they're free for the taking."
"Hey, thanks for the tip," Misha says, and stands up when Jared gets off the ice to put on his skate guards. "I'll have to check that out."
Jared pauses to say something to Sandy, who is just getting off the ice too, and glances up when she points over at Jensen. The happy smile that breaks across his face is enough to remind Jensen of why he's waiting at all.
"Yo, J-dog," Misha says as Jared approaches. "It's your big night! You pumped?"
"Hell yeah I am." Jared grins, and then looks down at where Jensen is still sitting. "Hey, you."
"Hey yourself," Jensen say, standing. He has a feeling that the goofy smile on Jared's face is probably matched by one of his own.
"You go out there and slay 'em," Misha says, punching Jared on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go check out the health administration building and leave you guys too it."
"Sure," Jared says, still staring at Jensen. Then he blinks. "Wait, is Misha-"
"Don't worry about it." Jensen chuckles.
"You know, you're not supposed to be back here." Jared's tone is a little teasing. "It's supposed to be skaters and coaches only."
"I'm a skater. Sort of." Jensen shrugs. "Actually, Misha snuck us back here. I think he boned one of the staff or something."
"Ah," Jared says, and glances back at where Sandy is talking to their coach. "Well, I'm really glad you came. I wish I could stay longer, but we're the first couple up and I have to-"
"Pow wow with Ursula and Sandy, I know," Jensen says. "I'm gonna head back to the bleachers so I can watch but I just-you know. Wanted to wish you good luck."
"Yeah." Jared glances around for a second to see if anyone's watching-mostly, it seems like all the skaters are rushing around performing various good luck rituals or deep in conversation with their coaches-and then darts forward to press a quick kiss against Jensen's lips. "Thanks for being so understanding. I promise you when we finally get there, it's gonna blow your mind."
Jensen grins as he takes a step back and hopes to god he isn't blushing. "I'm looking forward to it."
Jared and Sandy do spectacular that night, coming in with the second highest scores out of all the couples competing. Jensen meets Jared's eyes from the stands for a brief moment before Ursula hustles him and Sandy out of there for a good night's sleep, and there is literally nothing more Jensen wants to do than follow Jared back to his room and give him a victory blowjob.
Jensen refrains, however, and knows that tomorrow night-the last night of Jared's event and the last night of Jensen's sexual prison-all this will be over and done with. He can wait.
* * * * * *
T minus 14 days
"I believe congratulations are in order," Jensen says once Jared manages to close his bedroom door on the enthusiastic well-wishers. "Mr. Gold Medal winner in pairs figure skating."
"I can't really believe it," Jared says as he unwraps the scarf from around his neck and drops it carelessly to the floor. "It's like, surreal. I can't even wrap my head around it."
"So how does it feel?" Jensen asks as he sprawls back on Jared's bed and waits for Jared to join him. "Feel good to be a winner?"
"Fuck yeah," Jared says as he takes off his coat and throws it across the back of a chair. "It's like, goddamn. All that work and sacrifice and training-it finally paid off. Jesus."
"You deserve it," Jensen says as Jared crawls onto the bed beside him. "You and Sandy worked your asses off for this."
"Yeah." Jared rolls onto his back and drapes a forearm over his eyes. "You know that companies have already started calling me and Sandy about endorsements?"
"You deserve it," Jensen repeats, as he gets up to straddle Jared's hips. "And I am going to give you the best victory head you have ever gotten in your whole life."
"Wait, what?" Jared's hands rush out to grab Jensen's shoulders and prevent him from moving. "What are you talking about?"
"Um." Jensen stares at Jared in confusion. "Your event is over. Yay sexytimes now?"
"Well, my event is over, but yours isn't." Jared gives Jensen a look. "I won! But now we have to wait until you and your team wins too."
"You-" Jensen opens his mouth and closes it a few times, agog. "But my games don't end for two weeks!"
"I know," Jared pushes him back off him. "But as an Olympic gold medalist, I can tell you it will be worth-"
"Nothing is worth this!" Jensen throws his hands up in the air. "Nothing!"
"Now you're just being dramatic," Jared says.
"Ugh." Jensen rolls onto his side on the bed and shoves his face into a pillow. He feels like he's been aroused for so long he's not even aroused anymore, and it's destroying his ability to speak in coherent sentences. "Been waiting so long."
"I know it's difficult." Jared rubs what he probably thinks is soothing hand up and down Jensen's back, but all it feels like to Jensen is an unbearable tease of things what will never come. "But it's only two weeks."
"Can I at least suck your dick?" Jensen asks, voice muffled by the pillow.
"No, because it's already taking all my self control to have you in my bed and not rip off all your clothes right now," Jared says, an edge of strain in his voice. Jensen feels a faint note of schadenfreude at that. "Come on, Jensen, we talked about this."
"I thought it'd be over once you were done with your competition," Jensen says, still refusing to turn around and look at Jared. "But you keep moving the fucking target on me."
"I should have been more clear, I'm sorry," Jared says. "It's just-you remember what you told me about your dad? About how he blew out his knee the week before the Olympics and never got to see his team play against Russia?"
"I should never have told you about that," Jensen mutters, but finally rolls over to face Jared again. "I should have guessed you'd use my own father against me."
Jared smiles a little. "I want this as much as you do, believe me. But the Olympics only comes around every four years, and I know you want this as much as I do."
"I know." Jensen sighs heavily. "You're right. It's killing me, but you're right."
"I'd invite you to stay over, but I’m pretty sure neither of us would make it through the night," Jared says as he gets up.
Jensen forces himself out of the bed with one more mournful sigh, and puts on his coat and hat before making his way over to where Jared is waiting by the door.
"It'll be over before you know it," Jared says.
Jensen's dick very strongly disagrees.
"Yeah." Jensen settles for a quick peck on the cheek and no hug-the wood they're both sporting is pretty huge and likely go off from the remotest contact-and heads out into the snowy night.
Cruel Universe: 5, Jensen: 0.
* * * * * *
T minus 7 days
"I'd be more weirded out by the fact that you guys asked me to be like, a cockblocking chaperone on your dates except for the fact that you are attracting chicks like no other, J-dog," Misha says as he takes a big bite into his cheeseburger. "Seriously, man. They are as into you as flies on a three-day-old deer carcass."
"Thanks for that mental image," Jensen says as he shoves his salad away from him, appetite gone. "And what happened to that no red foods rule? You've got ketchup smeared all over your face."
"My event's over, man. I can slather as much ketchup as I want on anything and everything now." Misha continues to eat with reckless abandon. "Oh, and I got the bronze, thanks for asking, guys."
"Congrats," Jensen says, trying not to let too much bitterness through. It maybe isn't that effective.
"Yeah, good job," Jared echoes.
"Thanks," Misha says. "I guess there's always the next Olympics."
"I'm kind of still stuck on the ketchup thing here," Jensen says as he watches Misha drizzle ketchup over a brownie.
"Yesterday, he put it on a piece of cheesecake," Jared says. "It was pretty gross."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Misha replies.
Jensen sighs. "Inviting you along was probably a mistake."
"Probably," Misha agrees, mouth stuffed full like a chipmunk.
"I dunno, he does help kill my libido," Jared says.
"And don't forget that I'm here to help save you from the clutches of women driven wild with lust over your gold medal," Misha adds helpfully.
"They are not driven wild with lust over my medal," Jared says. "They're just-friendly."
"Dude," Jensen says. "Yesterday, Yolanda put your hand on her breast."
"Oh yeah." Jared pauses. "That was a little weird."
"Priming the pump, my friend." Misha gives Jared a thumbs up.
Jensen sighs again. It's going to be a long week.
* * * * * *
T minus 6 hours
"Jared!" Jensen hisses as he shuts the door to the locker room. "You're not supposed to be here!"
"Relax, it's okay," Jared puts his hands out like he's trying to settle a particularly agitated cat. "Misha slept with one of your trainers. Or your coach. I don't remember which."
"I-" Jensen stops. "Wow, I really hope-I’m just going to stop thinking about that."
"Probably for the best," Jared agrees as he looks around the empty room. "Where's everyone else?"
"I dunno," Jensen says distractedly. "Off doing some photoshoot with a kid from the Make a Wish foundation? I wasn't really listening."
"Oh. Um." Jared pauses. "And you aren't-"
"I'm the goalie, Jared!" Jensen snaps. "You know I can't take photos for twelve hours before the game. It's bad luck!"
"Okay, okay," Jared says, putting his hands up again. "No one's going to make you take any pictures that you don't want to."
"Is he here?" Jensen asks, glancing around. "Misha, I mean. Because he's tried to take photos of me before, just to fuck with me."
"No, he's saving me a seat in the stands." At Jensen's suspicious look, Jared admits, "I might have told him about your three days of underwear and socks rule."
"Okay, good." Jensen gets up and begins pacing the length of the room. "Look, you shouldn't be here either, Jared. I need to concentrate. Focus. I gotta visualize."
"Yeah." Jared takes a step back. "You're kinda-tense."
"That's because this is it!" Jensen's voice might be cracking a little. "This is the gold medal game! This is make or break time!"
"Um." Jared begins backing away slowly. "Yeah, I'm gonna, uh, wish you good luck. From over here. By the door."
Jensen's not even paying attention what Jared's saying, caught up as he is in mildly hysterical ranting about being one with the puck.
* * * * * *
T minus 0
"Fuck, I thought we'd never get out of there," Jared says as he shoves Jensen back against the door and mouths at his neck. "The press is totally crazy, man."
"I know," Jensen says, adrenaline still buzzing through his veins from kicking ass earlier that night. "It was like a mob scene."
"They were all over you." Jared chuckles against Jensen's ears, running his hands restlessly up and down his chest, unzipping his parka. "Heroic goalie who saved the game."
"I was pretty awesome back there," Jensen says, and laughs when Jared swats him on the arm.
"A little help here?" Jared says, burrowing his icy cold hands under Jensen's many layers of clothing to make contact with skin.
"Holy crap!" Jensen yelps as he practically shoves Jared-who is doubled over laughing-away. "Fucking-warm your hands or wear some goddamn gloves."
"Dude, I thought you'd be happier about us finally getting to have sex." There's an edge of a pout on Jared's face.
"I am fucking thrilled," Jensen reassures Jared. "Seriously. I just don't think my mind can grapple with the idea that the endless winter of my solitude is finally coming to an close, is all."
"The endless-" Jared throws a glove at him. "It's been barely two months!"
"Endless," Jensen says again, solemnly. "You wait. I'm half-expecting a bear to come charging through the wall right now to maul one or both of us before we can get to the finish line."
They both pause to stare at the wall.
Nothing happens.
"Just take off your damn clothes, Jensen," Jared says and pulls his sweater up over his head, revealing the abs that had originally lured Jensen in so many months ago, like a siren to her ships of hapless men.
Jensen feels his cock-which had been submerged beneath the waves of excitement, adrenaline, and victory dancing of the night-go straight from zero to sixty. "This is gonna be epic," Jensen promises as he shucks off his fleece, undershirt, pants, and underwear in record time.
"So epic," Jared agrees as he finishes stripping as well.
"Do you even know what you do to me?" Jensen says as he takes in the length of Jared's body: over six feet of muscular, gorgeous flesh, complete with a dick that makes Jensen's mouth water.
"I think I have a little bit of an idea." Jared leers at Jensen's own decidedly prominent erection. "Now get over here."
"Bossy, bossy," Jensen teases as he saunters towards the bed.
Jared practically tackles Jensen to the bed, landing them in a flailing mass of limbs and pillows. After a brief battle to see who gets to be on top, Jensen emerges victorious-yet again-and leans down to crush his mouth against Jared's, all teeth and tongue.
"I wanna do so much to you," Jared mumbles through their kiss. "I wanna do everything."
"Not if I do it to you first," Jensen shoots back, competitive spirit firing up.
"What does that even mean?" Jared chuckles against Jensen's lips.
"It means I'm gonna blow your mind." Jensen says as he lifts his hips and thrusts up against Jared's hot, hard cock. It's perfect, it's amazing, it's the best damn thing Jensen's felt in his entire life--
And then it's all over.
There's a moment of silence.
"Um," Jared says as he stares down at all the semen cooling on his stomach. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
"Yeah." Jensen sits up awkwardly, and notices that Jared's cock is softening also. "Was it good for you too?"
"Erm." Jared scratches his head. "Sure. Yeah. I mean-a little fast. But."
"It has been two months," Jensen points out.
"Yeah, I guess it's to be expected," Jared says, visibly drooping.
They both stare glumly at Jared's stomach in silence before Jensen perks up. "Hey, the closing ceremonies aren't till tomorrow night, right?"
"Right…" Jared says cautiously.
"So that means we've got all of tonight and tomorrow to get this right," Jensen says, slithering up to kiss Jared gently on the lips.
"Yeah." A smile begins to spread across Jared's face as he kisses back. "Yeah, we do."
* * * * * *
Closing Ceremonies
"How does it feel to be Olympic gold medalists?" Misha asks, shoving a handheld camcorder into Jared and Jensen's face.
"Fucking fantastic," Jared says, giving the camcorder two thumbs up.
"Awesome," Jensen says as he wraps an arm around Misha's neck and gives him a loud kiss on the cheek. "But you know what feels even better? Getting laid!"
fin
Words: 5,300
Thanks to: Thanks to: chibi_lurrel for alpha reading & infinite research help, sorrynotsorry for beta reading.
Written for spn_reversebang
Art by: deannawesson over here.
A repost of this story since it appears LJ ate my old entry.
Endless Winter of my Solitude
T minus 20 days
"I can't believe we're really here," Jensen says as he wanders through Jared's room, which is modest and sparsely furnished, but otherwise clean and comfortable. "Fucking Olympic Village."
"It's amazing," Jared agrees, flopping back onto his freshly made bed. "We made it, Jensen. We made it to the big leagues."
"Hell yeah," Jensen says, and can feel the muscles in his face almost aching with the shit-eating grin he's been sporting all day. "I don't think I’m gonna start believing it for a while, though. Not until I'm actually on the ice again. Maybe not even then."
"Yeah." Jared sits up and stretches, a flash of rippling abs peeking out of the gap between his shirt and pants. "Fuck, it's like-I don't even know what to say. I'm fucking overwhelmed here."
"I know. It doesn't feel real," Jensen wanders over to look out the window, where there are other athletes and coaches and trainers tromping through the snowy ground to their respective rooms. "Some of the guys on my team don't care at all-they've been through this a bunch of times already so it's like old hat for them."
"Yeah, my coach has been to so many Olympics she has a special suitcase she keeps in storage just for this," Jared says. "Sandy's still shitting herself, though. She sent me like, twenty text messages in the past three hours and keeps tweeting nonstop."
"I'm surprised you guys aren't stuck sharing a room," Jensen says, turning back to Jared. "You know, figure skating partners and all."
"Well, we're not actually dating or anything anymore," Jared says, raising himself onto on elbow. "And I think her boyfriend would be pretty pissed if we were sharing."
"I think your boyfriend would be pretty pissed," Jensen says as he walks over to settle between Jared's legs.
"Wouldn't want that," Jared says as he tips his head back for a brief kiss.
"We have a couple of hours before that meeting we have to get to," Jensen murmurs as he puts his hands on Jared's shoulders and deepens the kiss. "Maybe we should do something to celebrate."
"Like what?" Jared asks, expression adorably earnest.
"Oh you know," Jensen says as he tries to nudge Jared backwards onto the bed. Unfortunately, Jared is like a brick wall and doesn't move. "A little bit of this. A little bit of that."
Jared abruptly pulls away from Jensen, causing him to lose his balance and nearly face-plant on the bed. "Wait-are you talking about sex?"
"Um," Jensen straightens up. "Yes?"
"You're kidding, right?" Jared asks.
"Kidding?" Jensen repeats. "Who kids about having sex?"
"Jensen." Jared scoots backwards up the bed when Jensen makes another grab for his shoulders. "We can't have sex before our events. Nobody has sex before their events. It's bad luck!"
"That is definitely not true," Jensen says. "I can tell you that for a fact based on the very loud and very freaky sounding noises coming from the people in the rooms next to mine."
"Okay, fine, but those people are going to lose in all their events," Jared says dismissively. "Ursula was telling me that every single pair she's ever coached who won a gold medal abstained from having sex from the beginning of the Olympics till after their events. And she has coached eight gold medal winning pairs."
"Oh come on," Jensen says. "And how many pairs abstain and still end up not placing at all? It's just a crazy superstition."
"Says the guy who refuses to change his socks or underwear for three days before every big game," Jared retorts. "And by the way--ew on that. Still."
"That is not superstition," Jensen replies hotly. "That is just good sense. You have to break in-"
"I don't even want to hear it," Jared says. "You have your rituals and I have mine. Let's leave it at that."
"Like that weird little dance you do with Sandy right before you go on the ice?" Jensen raises an eyebrow.
"That's a warm-up," Jared replies defensively. "Unless you want me to talk about all the homoerotic stuff you do in the locker room with your teammates. Because I'm not really the jealous type, Jensen, but there's the occasional pat on the ass and then there's groping."
"It's not-" Jensen stops himself, because Jared's never participated in a team sport before, so he wouldn't understand the spirit of camaraderie. "Come on. Let's be reasonable here. We've been dating for how long now-"
"About a month, give or take six months of very flirtatious friendship before that," Jared supplies helpfully.
"Right," Jensen says. "And we haven't had sex yet."
"It is a little weird," Jared admits. "But it's not that I don't want to! Because I do-I really really do."
"So don't you think it's crazy to waste the first opportunity we've had to be alone together for a decent period of time when we're not both totally beat from training?" Jensen puts on his best wheedling tone. "They even gave us condoms with the little Olympic rings logo on them!"
"I may have given mine away to Misha," Jared says, eyes cutting guiltily away from Jensen's.
"Are you serious?" Jensen says. "But that's-now we only have my five!"
"I wanted to eliminate as many roads to temptation as possible!" Jared says, hands waving emphatically around. Jensen thinks he must still be in that brain-dead honeymoon phase because he still finds Jared's flailing oddly endearing to watch. "And it's just-you're so hot it's already hard enough as it is!"
"Jared." Jensen's voice softens as he sees how genuinely distraught by all of this Jared is, and he resists the urge to make a crude innuendo about things that are hard. "Look, we don't need to do things that require condoms. We can-you know."
"No mutually assisted orgasms of any kind," Jared says flatly. "Ursula was very clear on this."
"Dude." Jensen flops down into a chair by the desk next to the bed. "I can't believe you're letting your coach control your fucking sex life."
"Oh, because your coach doesn't control your sleeping schedule, eating habits, or what movies and books you are or aren't allowed to read during hockey season?" Jared asks.
Jensen winces; this is what he gets for opening up to Jared about the craziness of playing professional hockey. "It's a silly superstition, Jared. Like the one Misha has about not eating anything red for a month before a competition."
"Sure, tell that to the 92 percent of Olympic gold winners who have successfully abstained and walked away with million dollar endorsements."
"Okay, now I know you're just making up numbers," Jensen says, and Jared sighs.
"It isn't just about the su-the tradition," Jared says. "I told you what happened last time I had sex within a week of my qualifiers-I pulled a muscle in a very uncomfortable place, and there was, you know, soreness. I could barely do my spins and lifts with Sandy, it was so bad."
"We don't have to have, um, strenuous relations," Jensen says. "We can stick with nice, easy blowjobs. Handjobs, even. Anything."
"It's a slippery slope." Jared shakes his head. "That's what I thought last time, too. 'It's only a blowjob, or a handjob, then I'm off to eight hours of solid z's.' But half an hour later, I'm on my hands and knees getting my ass reamed six ways to Sunday and screaming my goddamn throat hoarse."
"You're um-" Jensen coughs. "You're a screamer, huh?"
"I'm a lot of things. A lot of things I really would like to show you. But not until after the events." Jared's expression grows more serious. "I know this may not make any sense to you but I can't do anything to mess this up-not for me, and not for Sandy. I won't let everyone down because I can't keep it in my pants."
"No, I get it, I do. It's fine, we'll wait." Jensen sighs, and drops his head. "I can't believe I'm being cockblocked by the motherfucking Olympics."
* * * * * *
It wasn't that they hadn't tried to have sex before the Olympics-they’d tried, oh God had they tried--but between the intense training schedules that left them so exhausted that it was all they could do to chat for an hour on the phone before passing out at the end of the day, and the universe conspiring against them on the one day of the week they had off for date night-their attempts had not met with much success.
When Jensen first met Jared at the ice rink they trained at, they'd hit it off immediately. Jensen had been cautious at first--it had been too much to hope that a guy this funny and awesome and hot could possibly be available and into sucking cock too. But after months of chance encounters, dubious attempts at flirtation, and investigation into whether Jared and Sandy were just ice skating partners-Jensen had finally worked up the nerve to ask Jared out and nearly peed himself in relief when he said yes.
The first attempt to have sex had taken place at the end of their first date. Jared breathlessly invited Jensen upstairs after what had stated out as a semi-chaste goodnight kiss morphed into a pretty rigorous making out and grinding session. Jensen assented eagerly, and they'd made it all the way into Jared's apartment before his cell phone began to ring. And ring. And ring.
"Persistent, huh?" Jensen said after the fifth repetition of some Taylor Swift song played.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why my sister would be calling at this time of night," Jared said, pushing the hair from his flushed face. "Let me just-"
"Yeah, no, it's fine," Jensen replied as Jared got up off the couch and wriggled his iPhone out of his obscenely tight pants pocket. Jensen stared idly up at the ceiling and noted a few cracks in the plaster that looked kind of like The Big Dipper, and tried to remember if he had thought to pack a condom in his wallet.
"-what do you mean Mom's been in an accident?" Jared's voice hit a high note, and Jensen had kissed goodbye to all fantasies of seeing any action that night.
The hours following that had been tense and uneasy ones: Jensen driving a frantic Jared to the hospital, meeting his sister under highly inauspicious circumstances, and trying not to pass out at the sight of all the blood in the emergency room.
But in the end, it all turned out mostly okay: Jared's mom emerged with a mild concussion and nothing worse; Jared and his sister both seemed appreciative of Jensen making coffee runs for them; and Jensen manfully avoided fainting when he passed by someone with a pretty disgusting head trauma.
Round two took place at the end of their second date, in Jensen's apartment. They'd made it all the way to the bedroom, Jared jokingly making a big production of turning off his phone while Jensen gave himself an internal fistbump over the fresh pack of condoms and lube he'd bought earlier. Things were just starting to heat up on the bed when they also began to do so in the rest of the apartment-literally.
"Wow, you like to keep it toasty in here, huh?" Jared murmured against Jensen's lips as they fumbled their shirts off.
"Hm," Jensen replied, because actually, he preferred his apartment cold given his tendency to sweat in temperatures over fifty degrees. A strong preference for living in refrigerator-like climes wasn't a trait that had endeared him to any of his old roommates, but it sure as hell came in handy for playing ice hockey all day. "Now that you mention it, it is a little warm in here."
"Guess it must be because you're so hot." Jared had the good grace to wink and not be offended when Jensen couldn't hold back a chuckle.
Things were heading in a very promising direction when Jensen first smelled something: acrid, bitter, and suspiciously reminiscent of the last time he attempted to cook a turkey. "Is that-do you smell something?"
"Huh?" Jared replied, looking up from undoing Jensen's belt. "Um, I dunno. My nose is kinda stuffed up."
"It smells like-" Jensen sat up as he took a deeper inhale. "Like something burning."
"Do you have a fireplace?" Jared asked as he reluctantly sat back too. "You don't smoke, do you?"
"No, on both counts." Jensen swung his legs off the bed. "Sorry, let me go check for a second. It's probably nothing."
"Okay," Jared replied. "I'll just be changing into something more comfortable here then."
"I hope you mean your birthday suit and not, like, women's lingerie," Jensen replied as he got out of bed. Jared's only reply was a wink.
Jensen opened the door, wandered into the living room, and found the entire kitchen filled with smoke.
"Time to go!" Jensen shouted, dashing back into his bedroom to grab some clothing and Jared's hand. "Apartment's on fire!"
They firefighters arrived ten minutes later and helpfully put out the blaze that had engulfed Jensen's kitchen. Jared-who had time to grab his shirt but not his coat-stuck around, shivering, until Jensen took pity on him and sent him home.
"I'm okay, really," Jensen said. "You have practice in the morning and I'm gonna be up for a while dealing with this."
"Are you sure?" Jared asked, teeth chattering. "I could-"
"It's fine," Jensen smiled and touched Jared's hand. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
The third round was both their faults. They went out to a perfectly nice dinner filled with lovely conversation--half of which was devoted to Jensen's rants about his insurance company--and far too much wine.
They'd hopped a cab back to Jared's place, cracked open another ill-advised bottle of wine, and made jokes about another act of god interrupting their attempts at sexual relations. But in the end, it was nothing nearly so dramatic as a tornado or earthquake completely and utterly destroying any hope Jensen had about getting laid in the near future.
What actually happened was this: Jensen had gotten so drunk he couldn't get it up, and Jared fell asleep midway through humping at Jensen's thigh.
The next morning, which Jensen had optimistically blocked off as a time that would be dedicated to enthusiastic day-after sex, was unfortunately spent with both Jared and Jensen groaning and clutching at their heads in pathetic, erection-killing agony.
Two days later, they were both on planes flying to the Olympic Village in Vancouver.
Cruel Universe: 3, Jensen: 0.
* * * * * *
T minus 15 days
"Why so down, bro?" Misha asks as he takes a seat on the bench next to Jensen.
"Oh, you know. Just a little bitter that everyone's fucking like bunnies all around us and I'm living like a monk, that's all," Jensen says gloomily.
"Jared's still sticking with that sex is bad luck thing, huh?" Misha sounds surprisingly sympathetic. "Bummer."
"Yeah, I mean, at least it'll be over soon." Jensen doesn’t turn his gaze from the ice where Jared is executing a neat triple axel. "Today's his first day and tomorrow's the last day of his event, so."
"Hang in there," Misha says with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "When you finally get there, it'll be worth it. Olympics sex is the bomb-all the adrenaline and fucking competition in the air-gets the blood pounding. Among other things."
"I take it you know from personal experience?" Jensen raises an eyebrow; this is Misha's first time at the Olympics too.
"Well, I don't want to gloat or anything," Misha says, even though it's clear that he really does.
"No, it's cool." Jensen offers his right hand up for a fistbump. "I might as well live vicariously through you for now."
"Awesome, man." Misha gives him a hearty bump. "I got laid today, yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. All different people. All epically hot."
"Nice."
"The only downside is that I'm running out of condoms," Misha says. "And from what I hear, other people are too so I can't rely on them to have one ready."
"There's a big bowl filled with them over in the health administration building." Jensen keeps an eye on Jared, who seems done with his warm up on the ice and is skating towards the boards again. "I heard they're free for the taking."
"Hey, thanks for the tip," Misha says, and stands up when Jared gets off the ice to put on his skate guards. "I'll have to check that out."
Jared pauses to say something to Sandy, who is just getting off the ice too, and glances up when she points over at Jensen. The happy smile that breaks across his face is enough to remind Jensen of why he's waiting at all.
"Yo, J-dog," Misha says as Jared approaches. "It's your big night! You pumped?"
"Hell yeah I am." Jared grins, and then looks down at where Jensen is still sitting. "Hey, you."
"Hey yourself," Jensen say, standing. He has a feeling that the goofy smile on Jared's face is probably matched by one of his own.
"You go out there and slay 'em," Misha says, punching Jared on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go check out the health administration building and leave you guys too it."
"Sure," Jared says, still staring at Jensen. Then he blinks. "Wait, is Misha-"
"Don't worry about it." Jensen chuckles.
"You know, you're not supposed to be back here." Jared's tone is a little teasing. "It's supposed to be skaters and coaches only."
"I'm a skater. Sort of." Jensen shrugs. "Actually, Misha snuck us back here. I think he boned one of the staff or something."
"Ah," Jared says, and glances back at where Sandy is talking to their coach. "Well, I'm really glad you came. I wish I could stay longer, but we're the first couple up and I have to-"
"Pow wow with Ursula and Sandy, I know," Jensen says. "I'm gonna head back to the bleachers so I can watch but I just-you know. Wanted to wish you good luck."
"Yeah." Jared glances around for a second to see if anyone's watching-mostly, it seems like all the skaters are rushing around performing various good luck rituals or deep in conversation with their coaches-and then darts forward to press a quick kiss against Jensen's lips. "Thanks for being so understanding. I promise you when we finally get there, it's gonna blow your mind."
Jensen grins as he takes a step back and hopes to god he isn't blushing. "I'm looking forward to it."
Jared and Sandy do spectacular that night, coming in with the second highest scores out of all the couples competing. Jensen meets Jared's eyes from the stands for a brief moment before Ursula hustles him and Sandy out of there for a good night's sleep, and there is literally nothing more Jensen wants to do than follow Jared back to his room and give him a victory blowjob.
Jensen refrains, however, and knows that tomorrow night-the last night of Jared's event and the last night of Jensen's sexual prison-all this will be over and done with. He can wait.
* * * * * *
T minus 14 days
"I believe congratulations are in order," Jensen says once Jared manages to close his bedroom door on the enthusiastic well-wishers. "Mr. Gold Medal winner in pairs figure skating."
"I can't really believe it," Jared says as he unwraps the scarf from around his neck and drops it carelessly to the floor. "It's like, surreal. I can't even wrap my head around it."
"So how does it feel?" Jensen asks as he sprawls back on Jared's bed and waits for Jared to join him. "Feel good to be a winner?"
"Fuck yeah," Jared says as he takes off his coat and throws it across the back of a chair. "It's like, goddamn. All that work and sacrifice and training-it finally paid off. Jesus."
"You deserve it," Jensen says as Jared crawls onto the bed beside him. "You and Sandy worked your asses off for this."
"Yeah." Jared rolls onto his back and drapes a forearm over his eyes. "You know that companies have already started calling me and Sandy about endorsements?"
"You deserve it," Jensen repeats, as he gets up to straddle Jared's hips. "And I am going to give you the best victory head you have ever gotten in your whole life."
"Wait, what?" Jared's hands rush out to grab Jensen's shoulders and prevent him from moving. "What are you talking about?"
"Um." Jensen stares at Jared in confusion. "Your event is over. Yay sexytimes now?"
"Well, my event is over, but yours isn't." Jared gives Jensen a look. "I won! But now we have to wait until you and your team wins too."
"You-" Jensen opens his mouth and closes it a few times, agog. "But my games don't end for two weeks!"
"I know," Jared pushes him back off him. "But as an Olympic gold medalist, I can tell you it will be worth-"
"Nothing is worth this!" Jensen throws his hands up in the air. "Nothing!"
"Now you're just being dramatic," Jared says.
"Ugh." Jensen rolls onto his side on the bed and shoves his face into a pillow. He feels like he's been aroused for so long he's not even aroused anymore, and it's destroying his ability to speak in coherent sentences. "Been waiting so long."
"I know it's difficult." Jared rubs what he probably thinks is soothing hand up and down Jensen's back, but all it feels like to Jensen is an unbearable tease of things what will never come. "But it's only two weeks."
"Can I at least suck your dick?" Jensen asks, voice muffled by the pillow.
"No, because it's already taking all my self control to have you in my bed and not rip off all your clothes right now," Jared says, an edge of strain in his voice. Jensen feels a faint note of schadenfreude at that. "Come on, Jensen, we talked about this."
"I thought it'd be over once you were done with your competition," Jensen says, still refusing to turn around and look at Jared. "But you keep moving the fucking target on me."
"I should have been more clear, I'm sorry," Jared says. "It's just-you remember what you told me about your dad? About how he blew out his knee the week before the Olympics and never got to see his team play against Russia?"
"I should never have told you about that," Jensen mutters, but finally rolls over to face Jared again. "I should have guessed you'd use my own father against me."
Jared smiles a little. "I want this as much as you do, believe me. But the Olympics only comes around every four years, and I know you want this as much as I do."
"I know." Jensen sighs heavily. "You're right. It's killing me, but you're right."
"I'd invite you to stay over, but I’m pretty sure neither of us would make it through the night," Jared says as he gets up.
Jensen forces himself out of the bed with one more mournful sigh, and puts on his coat and hat before making his way over to where Jared is waiting by the door.
"It'll be over before you know it," Jared says.
Jensen's dick very strongly disagrees.
"Yeah." Jensen settles for a quick peck on the cheek and no hug-the wood they're both sporting is pretty huge and likely go off from the remotest contact-and heads out into the snowy night.
Cruel Universe: 5, Jensen: 0.
* * * * * *
T minus 7 days
"I'd be more weirded out by the fact that you guys asked me to be like, a cockblocking chaperone on your dates except for the fact that you are attracting chicks like no other, J-dog," Misha says as he takes a big bite into his cheeseburger. "Seriously, man. They are as into you as flies on a three-day-old deer carcass."
"Thanks for that mental image," Jensen says as he shoves his salad away from him, appetite gone. "And what happened to that no red foods rule? You've got ketchup smeared all over your face."
"My event's over, man. I can slather as much ketchup as I want on anything and everything now." Misha continues to eat with reckless abandon. "Oh, and I got the bronze, thanks for asking, guys."
"Congrats," Jensen says, trying not to let too much bitterness through. It maybe isn't that effective.
"Yeah, good job," Jared echoes.
"Thanks," Misha says. "I guess there's always the next Olympics."
"I'm kind of still stuck on the ketchup thing here," Jensen says as he watches Misha drizzle ketchup over a brownie.
"Yesterday, he put it on a piece of cheesecake," Jared says. "It was pretty gross."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Misha replies.
Jensen sighs. "Inviting you along was probably a mistake."
"Probably," Misha agrees, mouth stuffed full like a chipmunk.
"I dunno, he does help kill my libido," Jared says.
"And don't forget that I'm here to help save you from the clutches of women driven wild with lust over your gold medal," Misha adds helpfully.
"They are not driven wild with lust over my medal," Jared says. "They're just-friendly."
"Dude," Jensen says. "Yesterday, Yolanda put your hand on her breast."
"Oh yeah." Jared pauses. "That was a little weird."
"Priming the pump, my friend." Misha gives Jared a thumbs up.
Jensen sighs again. It's going to be a long week.
* * * * * *
T minus 6 hours
"Jared!" Jensen hisses as he shuts the door to the locker room. "You're not supposed to be here!"
"Relax, it's okay," Jared puts his hands out like he's trying to settle a particularly agitated cat. "Misha slept with one of your trainers. Or your coach. I don't remember which."
"I-" Jensen stops. "Wow, I really hope-I’m just going to stop thinking about that."
"Probably for the best," Jared agrees as he looks around the empty room. "Where's everyone else?"
"I dunno," Jensen says distractedly. "Off doing some photoshoot with a kid from the Make a Wish foundation? I wasn't really listening."
"Oh. Um." Jared pauses. "And you aren't-"
"I'm the goalie, Jared!" Jensen snaps. "You know I can't take photos for twelve hours before the game. It's bad luck!"
"Okay, okay," Jared says, putting his hands up again. "No one's going to make you take any pictures that you don't want to."
"Is he here?" Jensen asks, glancing around. "Misha, I mean. Because he's tried to take photos of me before, just to fuck with me."
"No, he's saving me a seat in the stands." At Jensen's suspicious look, Jared admits, "I might have told him about your three days of underwear and socks rule."
"Okay, good." Jensen gets up and begins pacing the length of the room. "Look, you shouldn't be here either, Jared. I need to concentrate. Focus. I gotta visualize."
"Yeah." Jared takes a step back. "You're kinda-tense."
"That's because this is it!" Jensen's voice might be cracking a little. "This is the gold medal game! This is make or break time!"
"Um." Jared begins backing away slowly. "Yeah, I'm gonna, uh, wish you good luck. From over here. By the door."
Jensen's not even paying attention what Jared's saying, caught up as he is in mildly hysterical ranting about being one with the puck.
* * * * * *
T minus 0
"Fuck, I thought we'd never get out of there," Jared says as he shoves Jensen back against the door and mouths at his neck. "The press is totally crazy, man."
"I know," Jensen says, adrenaline still buzzing through his veins from kicking ass earlier that night. "It was like a mob scene."
"They were all over you." Jared chuckles against Jensen's ears, running his hands restlessly up and down his chest, unzipping his parka. "Heroic goalie who saved the game."
"I was pretty awesome back there," Jensen says, and laughs when Jared swats him on the arm.
"A little help here?" Jared says, burrowing his icy cold hands under Jensen's many layers of clothing to make contact with skin.
"Holy crap!" Jensen yelps as he practically shoves Jared-who is doubled over laughing-away. "Fucking-warm your hands or wear some goddamn gloves."
"Dude, I thought you'd be happier about us finally getting to have sex." There's an edge of a pout on Jared's face.
"I am fucking thrilled," Jensen reassures Jared. "Seriously. I just don't think my mind can grapple with the idea that the endless winter of my solitude is finally coming to an close, is all."
"The endless-" Jared throws a glove at him. "It's been barely two months!"
"Endless," Jensen says again, solemnly. "You wait. I'm half-expecting a bear to come charging through the wall right now to maul one or both of us before we can get to the finish line."
They both pause to stare at the wall.
Nothing happens.
"Just take off your damn clothes, Jensen," Jared says and pulls his sweater up over his head, revealing the abs that had originally lured Jensen in so many months ago, like a siren to her ships of hapless men.
Jensen feels his cock-which had been submerged beneath the waves of excitement, adrenaline, and victory dancing of the night-go straight from zero to sixty. "This is gonna be epic," Jensen promises as he shucks off his fleece, undershirt, pants, and underwear in record time.
"So epic," Jared agrees as he finishes stripping as well.
"Do you even know what you do to me?" Jensen says as he takes in the length of Jared's body: over six feet of muscular, gorgeous flesh, complete with a dick that makes Jensen's mouth water.
"I think I have a little bit of an idea." Jared leers at Jensen's own decidedly prominent erection. "Now get over here."
"Bossy, bossy," Jensen teases as he saunters towards the bed.
Jared practically tackles Jensen to the bed, landing them in a flailing mass of limbs and pillows. After a brief battle to see who gets to be on top, Jensen emerges victorious-yet again-and leans down to crush his mouth against Jared's, all teeth and tongue.
"I wanna do so much to you," Jared mumbles through their kiss. "I wanna do everything."
"Not if I do it to you first," Jensen shoots back, competitive spirit firing up.
"What does that even mean?" Jared chuckles against Jensen's lips.
"It means I'm gonna blow your mind." Jensen says as he lifts his hips and thrusts up against Jared's hot, hard cock. It's perfect, it's amazing, it's the best damn thing Jensen's felt in his entire life--
And then it's all over.
There's a moment of silence.
"Um," Jared says as he stares down at all the semen cooling on his stomach. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
"Yeah." Jensen sits up awkwardly, and notices that Jared's cock is softening also. "Was it good for you too?"
"Erm." Jared scratches his head. "Sure. Yeah. I mean-a little fast. But."
"It has been two months," Jensen points out.
"Yeah, I guess it's to be expected," Jared says, visibly drooping.
They both stare glumly at Jared's stomach in silence before Jensen perks up. "Hey, the closing ceremonies aren't till tomorrow night, right?"
"Right…" Jared says cautiously.
"So that means we've got all of tonight and tomorrow to get this right," Jensen says, slithering up to kiss Jared gently on the lips.
"Yeah." A smile begins to spread across Jared's face as he kisses back. "Yeah, we do."
* * * * * *
Closing Ceremonies
"How does it feel to be Olympic gold medalists?" Misha asks, shoving a handheld camcorder into Jared and Jensen's face.
"Fucking fantastic," Jared says, giving the camcorder two thumbs up.
"Awesome," Jensen says as he wraps an arm around Misha's neck and gives him a loud kiss on the cheek. "But you know what feels even better? Getting laid!"
fin