Fuel the Fire | J2 | NC-17
Title: Fuel the Fire
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1900
Summary: Jared's hesitant to go for a ride. But it's Jensen, and he doesn't want to pass this moment.
Notes: Based on this photo. Beta by the lovely deirdre_c ♥
The empty gangway is rather well-lit, the abrupt brightness startling Jared as they hurry from the club. The light doesn’t seem to bother Jensen. Not at all. Jared, on the other hand, frantically glances around and wonders if anyone saw them escape out the back door. He worries about any number of their friends who might’ve noticed their absence, noticed that he and Jensen have gone missing, together. He’s reminded of skipping 7th period English, racing through the high school parking lot and being unable to ignore the rush of getting away with it.
Jared’s still looking all around them, eyes combing every shadow of the surrounding buildings, until he’s completed the full circle and finds himself simply staring at Jensen.
Jensen’s perched on his motorcycle, hands loosely gripping the handles. He flips one forward nonchalantly and smirks at Jared, grin spreading wider the longer Jared watches. While Jared’s breath catches at the image, Jensen sweeps the kickstand back and sets his foot to a peg, which only draws Jared’s eyes to Jensen’s thighs, sculpted beneath tight, faded jeans.
There are no words between them, only one long look. Jensen’s eyes sweep across Jared’s face and Jared continues to watch Jensen, sight only slipping down to Jensen’s lips when they curl into another smirk.
“I thought you wanted to go for a ride?” Jensen taunts.
Jared licks his lips, glances back over his shoulder, and finally moves closer. “I said so, didn’t I?” he says gruffly, trying like hell to hide his apprehension, of having to navigate this moment with Jensen’s smirk. Jensen’s damned gorgeous with it, but he’s cocky as hell. Especially when he tugs aviators into place and tips his head.
“Hop on, buckaroo.”
Slowly, carefully, Jared hitches his leg over the side of the seat and lowers himself on. Jensen turns the engine over and it rumbles beneath them, right between Jared’s legs. The heavy vibrations shock him into action and he scoots forward, hands curling into the sides of Jensen’s leather jacket. He’d been itching to touch it the second he saw Jensen enter the club, and now, it’s all he has to latch onto.
“Hang on tight,” Jensen murmurs with his chin cocked over his shoulder.
Jared tentatively slips closer, puts his feet to the back pegs, and sets his arms around Jensen’s waist, though not too tight. He can handle a motorcycle ride; he’s been on one before and came away unscathed. But something about it being Jensen, who he’s been eying for nearly a year now, who he’s been cautiously flirting with for weeks, makes the nerves flare up under his skin.
“There ya go,” Jensen murmurs just as softly as before, and revs the engine, flips the handle, and shoots them down the alley and out onto the street.
It’s an easy turn onto the cross street, but Jared still holds his breath and sets his arms a little more firmly around Jensen. The wind breezes right into his shirt, running through the sleeves and puffing the cotton, no matter how tight it’d been in the club with sweat and ten percent spandex letting it mold his body.
He’s just relaxing, getting used to the hum of the engine below him and the casual hold around Jensen’s waist, when the bike revs and Jensen runs them right onto the interstate ramp, zipping the bike up to 60 miles per hour.
Before he realizes it, his arms tighten and he presses his cheek into Jensen’s shoulder. The air stings his face and shoves his shirt up, billowing the fabric out from his body, and he’s chilled all over. Because along with the panic of hurtling down the highway at sixty-plus with nothing but a seat and two wheels keeping him upright, there’s the wind thrashing through his hair and the steady line of streetlamps lighting their journey, all firing up his nerves. It’s a surprising change: this heat running up his legs, through his stomach, and into his chest. A warmth he can’t ignore for long, because it’s only him and Jensen out on the road with just the roar of the bike.
The motor snarls as Jensen races darkness, flying them towards the horizon that keeps leading them forward, continues to escape them. Jared’s slowly gaining confidence and he sits straighter, pressing his chest into Jensen’s back, deliberately this time. He feels Jensen push back even as he keeps his hands firm on the handlebars. Then with a twist of Jensen’s wrist, they’re jetting even faster, and Jared’s arms are clinging even tighter.
Jared sets his chin at Jensen’s shoulder, though he keeps his eyes closed against the stinging chill and grit, but it only enhances every other sense. His ears are filled with the whistling wind that can’t stop them from speeding on. He smells fresh grass within a passing forest, the crisp water of a lake that angles toward them from the northwest. He feels the pulse of Jensen’s heart, a hot weight pounding against his hands, a rhythm faster than his own heart.
He licks his lips and he swears he can taste Jensen. He knows he wants to and is likely imagining it, but the flavor is there all the same. A sharp hint of leather just barely hides the spice and citrus mix of the cologne Jared couldn’t get enough of earlier, when they’d shared hushed conversations just below the beat of the club’s music.
But this silent conversation is better than any string of words Jensen’s ever fed him. And now the throb of their hearts is no match for the one racing through his thighs, making his skin hot and prickly as he grows hard.
Jared’s so lost in the touch, scent, and taste of Jensen, in the stress and swell of his jeans, that he only registers they’re slowing when his shirt stops flapping out and the air is a less forceful thing against his face. The engine lulls into a steady thrum as Jensen leads them down an exit ramp, running the bike up and back over a creek before slowing to the gravel lot butting up against the sliver of moonlit water.
As Jensen sets the kickstand down, turns the keys, and tucks them into his pocket, Jared loosens his arms and withdraws as he sits back. But he can’t go far; Jensen twists in place, tugging at Jared’s shirt and pulling Jared’s mouth right into his own.
There’s just a moment’s hesitation as Jared registers the wet lips coasting over his, tongue prodding and licking, until the adrenaline fuels him. Putting feet to the ground, Jared slides forward and feels his jeans press tight to his dick, even more strained as it meets Jensen’s hip, and Jensen moans into his mouth, opening to Jared’s tongue shoving right in and licking deep.
Coasting the high of the ride should be enough to arouse him, but he also has Jensen’s able mouth and breathy noises ramping him right on. He forces his hands under Jensen’s jacket, pushing it down his arms and unconsciously trapping Jensen there, and without thinking, Jared simply wraps his arms around Jensen to pull him tighter, to get at anything he can reach. His fingers slip under Jensen’s shirt and grope at bare skin as Jensen shucks his jacket off then grabs at Jared’s hair to steer their kiss, which is more like an absolute obliteration of each other’s mouths with how frenzied they both have become.
Jensen pushes Jared back then pulls himself off the bike, surprisingly smooth and quick with the motion. And more so when hops back over the seat, stepping up the back peg and hooking his legs over Jared’s lap. Jared’s lost, euphoria overtaking him with Jensen’s actions a total surprise. He’s further shocked by Jensen’s swift yet desperate movement as he wraps his arms around Jared’s neck and grinds down on him, into him, forcing his hardness into Jared’s stomach with every plunge.
Becoming just as hopeless, refusing to let this moment pass without taking full advantage of it, Jared grasps Jensen’s back with tight hands to his shoulders as he leans them down to the bike and yanks Jensen in just as Jared shoves right into him, imagining the long slide of being inside Jensen, of taking him just like this with little between them but sweat and heat.
“This all you got?” Jensen scoffs even as he frantically grabs at Jared’s shirt, yanking and uselessly tearing at the seams like he might combust if he stops moving.
Jared pushes into Jensen, steps over his leg, and digs his hip at Jensen’s groin, Jensen’s leg tight into his own. He drives into him again, hyper aware of Jensen’s broken rasp and the twisted look on his face when pleasure spikes.
Shoving forward again and again, he tightens a hand around Jensen’s neck and kisses him with everything he has, tongue hard and lips spreading wide for what Jensen feeds right back into him. They keep sliding together, hands frantic and mouths more than, until Jensen’s back arches and he bites at Jared’s tongue then sucks at it, whimpering as he comes in his jeans. Nice, tight, whitewashed denim that had so gorgeously shaped Jensen’s legs and ass are now wet, wet because of Jared, and Jared’s heart pummels his ribcage with the thought.
He presses on, mouthing along Jensen’s neck as he continues to grind down on Jensen’s thigh, content to finish himself. He’s rumbling with renewed energy as Jensen clutches the back of Jared’s shirt, reeling him in. It doesn’t take long: just Jared’s mind replaying their flight down the interstate, of their desperation, of Jensen’s slicked up mouth parting as he came. And then he’s moaning into Jensen’s damp skin, shivering when the cold night finally catches up to him, when he feels his orgasm tapering off and leaving him boneless against Jensen.
Once Jared regains his senses, he shifts back and settles in the spot he’d taken during their joyride - well, the first one - where he’d sat with the wind threading through his hair and making his heart race in an entirely different manner.
“Not what I was expecting,” Jensen says as he sits up with a dazed look. “Especially after all that hemmin’ and hawin’ earlier.”
Jared looks away, fingers picking at the outside seams of his jeans. “Guess I surprised us both.”
With an eyebrow up high, Jensen’s voice is strangely neutral. “Certainly did.”
He snorts to himself. “I let it get a little away from me,” he mumbles with a quick glance up.
Jensen moves slowly, just barely bringing his leg over the bike without snagging his foot on the seat, and Jared allows himself a quick smirk, fully aware, and proud, that he set Jensen this way. “Should let it more often,” Jensen murmurs with an eye over his shoulder. When Jared does little more than stare in return, Jensen flashes a sharp smile. “You ready for the ride back?”
No matter the implications or gossip waiting for them tonight, tomorrow, or next week, it’s well worth it to wrap his arms around Jensen’s waist and press against his back again. “Ready and willing.”
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1900
Summary: Jared's hesitant to go for a ride. But it's Jensen, and he doesn't want to pass this moment.
Notes: Based on this photo. Beta by the lovely deirdre_c ♥
The empty gangway is rather well-lit, the abrupt brightness startling Jared as they hurry from the club. The light doesn’t seem to bother Jensen. Not at all. Jared, on the other hand, frantically glances around and wonders if anyone saw them escape out the back door. He worries about any number of their friends who might’ve noticed their absence, noticed that he and Jensen have gone missing, together. He’s reminded of skipping 7th period English, racing through the high school parking lot and being unable to ignore the rush of getting away with it.
Jared’s still looking all around them, eyes combing every shadow of the surrounding buildings, until he’s completed the full circle and finds himself simply staring at Jensen.
Jensen’s perched on his motorcycle, hands loosely gripping the handles. He flips one forward nonchalantly and smirks at Jared, grin spreading wider the longer Jared watches. While Jared’s breath catches at the image, Jensen sweeps the kickstand back and sets his foot to a peg, which only draws Jared’s eyes to Jensen’s thighs, sculpted beneath tight, faded jeans.
There are no words between them, only one long look. Jensen’s eyes sweep across Jared’s face and Jared continues to watch Jensen, sight only slipping down to Jensen’s lips when they curl into another smirk.
“I thought you wanted to go for a ride?” Jensen taunts.
Jared licks his lips, glances back over his shoulder, and finally moves closer. “I said so, didn’t I?” he says gruffly, trying like hell to hide his apprehension, of having to navigate this moment with Jensen’s smirk. Jensen’s damned gorgeous with it, but he’s cocky as hell. Especially when he tugs aviators into place and tips his head.
“Hop on, buckaroo.”
Slowly, carefully, Jared hitches his leg over the side of the seat and lowers himself on. Jensen turns the engine over and it rumbles beneath them, right between Jared’s legs. The heavy vibrations shock him into action and he scoots forward, hands curling into the sides of Jensen’s leather jacket. He’d been itching to touch it the second he saw Jensen enter the club, and now, it’s all he has to latch onto.
“Hang on tight,” Jensen murmurs with his chin cocked over his shoulder.
Jared tentatively slips closer, puts his feet to the back pegs, and sets his arms around Jensen’s waist, though not too tight. He can handle a motorcycle ride; he’s been on one before and came away unscathed. But something about it being Jensen, who he’s been eying for nearly a year now, who he’s been cautiously flirting with for weeks, makes the nerves flare up under his skin.
“There ya go,” Jensen murmurs just as softly as before, and revs the engine, flips the handle, and shoots them down the alley and out onto the street.
It’s an easy turn onto the cross street, but Jared still holds his breath and sets his arms a little more firmly around Jensen. The wind breezes right into his shirt, running through the sleeves and puffing the cotton, no matter how tight it’d been in the club with sweat and ten percent spandex letting it mold his body.
He’s just relaxing, getting used to the hum of the engine below him and the casual hold around Jensen’s waist, when the bike revs and Jensen runs them right onto the interstate ramp, zipping the bike up to 60 miles per hour.
Before he realizes it, his arms tighten and he presses his cheek into Jensen’s shoulder. The air stings his face and shoves his shirt up, billowing the fabric out from his body, and he’s chilled all over. Because along with the panic of hurtling down the highway at sixty-plus with nothing but a seat and two wheels keeping him upright, there’s the wind thrashing through his hair and the steady line of streetlamps lighting their journey, all firing up his nerves. It’s a surprising change: this heat running up his legs, through his stomach, and into his chest. A warmth he can’t ignore for long, because it’s only him and Jensen out on the road with just the roar of the bike.
The motor snarls as Jensen races darkness, flying them towards the horizon that keeps leading them forward, continues to escape them. Jared’s slowly gaining confidence and he sits straighter, pressing his chest into Jensen’s back, deliberately this time. He feels Jensen push back even as he keeps his hands firm on the handlebars. Then with a twist of Jensen’s wrist, they’re jetting even faster, and Jared’s arms are clinging even tighter.
Jared sets his chin at Jensen’s shoulder, though he keeps his eyes closed against the stinging chill and grit, but it only enhances every other sense. His ears are filled with the whistling wind that can’t stop them from speeding on. He smells fresh grass within a passing forest, the crisp water of a lake that angles toward them from the northwest. He feels the pulse of Jensen’s heart, a hot weight pounding against his hands, a rhythm faster than his own heart.
He licks his lips and he swears he can taste Jensen. He knows he wants to and is likely imagining it, but the flavor is there all the same. A sharp hint of leather just barely hides the spice and citrus mix of the cologne Jared couldn’t get enough of earlier, when they’d shared hushed conversations just below the beat of the club’s music.
But this silent conversation is better than any string of words Jensen’s ever fed him. And now the throb of their hearts is no match for the one racing through his thighs, making his skin hot and prickly as he grows hard.
Jared’s so lost in the touch, scent, and taste of Jensen, in the stress and swell of his jeans, that he only registers they’re slowing when his shirt stops flapping out and the air is a less forceful thing against his face. The engine lulls into a steady thrum as Jensen leads them down an exit ramp, running the bike up and back over a creek before slowing to the gravel lot butting up against the sliver of moonlit water.
As Jensen sets the kickstand down, turns the keys, and tucks them into his pocket, Jared loosens his arms and withdraws as he sits back. But he can’t go far; Jensen twists in place, tugging at Jared’s shirt and pulling Jared’s mouth right into his own.
There’s just a moment’s hesitation as Jared registers the wet lips coasting over his, tongue prodding and licking, until the adrenaline fuels him. Putting feet to the ground, Jared slides forward and feels his jeans press tight to his dick, even more strained as it meets Jensen’s hip, and Jensen moans into his mouth, opening to Jared’s tongue shoving right in and licking deep.
Coasting the high of the ride should be enough to arouse him, but he also has Jensen’s able mouth and breathy noises ramping him right on. He forces his hands under Jensen’s jacket, pushing it down his arms and unconsciously trapping Jensen there, and without thinking, Jared simply wraps his arms around Jensen to pull him tighter, to get at anything he can reach. His fingers slip under Jensen’s shirt and grope at bare skin as Jensen shucks his jacket off then grabs at Jared’s hair to steer their kiss, which is more like an absolute obliteration of each other’s mouths with how frenzied they both have become.
Jensen pushes Jared back then pulls himself off the bike, surprisingly smooth and quick with the motion. And more so when hops back over the seat, stepping up the back peg and hooking his legs over Jared’s lap. Jared’s lost, euphoria overtaking him with Jensen’s actions a total surprise. He’s further shocked by Jensen’s swift yet desperate movement as he wraps his arms around Jared’s neck and grinds down on him, into him, forcing his hardness into Jared’s stomach with every plunge.
Becoming just as hopeless, refusing to let this moment pass without taking full advantage of it, Jared grasps Jensen’s back with tight hands to his shoulders as he leans them down to the bike and yanks Jensen in just as Jared shoves right into him, imagining the long slide of being inside Jensen, of taking him just like this with little between them but sweat and heat.
“This all you got?” Jensen scoffs even as he frantically grabs at Jared’s shirt, yanking and uselessly tearing at the seams like he might combust if he stops moving.
Jared pushes into Jensen, steps over his leg, and digs his hip at Jensen’s groin, Jensen’s leg tight into his own. He drives into him again, hyper aware of Jensen’s broken rasp and the twisted look on his face when pleasure spikes.
Shoving forward again and again, he tightens a hand around Jensen’s neck and kisses him with everything he has, tongue hard and lips spreading wide for what Jensen feeds right back into him. They keep sliding together, hands frantic and mouths more than, until Jensen’s back arches and he bites at Jared’s tongue then sucks at it, whimpering as he comes in his jeans. Nice, tight, whitewashed denim that had so gorgeously shaped Jensen’s legs and ass are now wet, wet because of Jared, and Jared’s heart pummels his ribcage with the thought.
He presses on, mouthing along Jensen’s neck as he continues to grind down on Jensen’s thigh, content to finish himself. He’s rumbling with renewed energy as Jensen clutches the back of Jared’s shirt, reeling him in. It doesn’t take long: just Jared’s mind replaying their flight down the interstate, of their desperation, of Jensen’s slicked up mouth parting as he came. And then he’s moaning into Jensen’s damp skin, shivering when the cold night finally catches up to him, when he feels his orgasm tapering off and leaving him boneless against Jensen.
Once Jared regains his senses, he shifts back and settles in the spot he’d taken during their joyride - well, the first one - where he’d sat with the wind threading through his hair and making his heart race in an entirely different manner.
“Not what I was expecting,” Jensen says as he sits up with a dazed look. “Especially after all that hemmin’ and hawin’ earlier.”
Jared looks away, fingers picking at the outside seams of his jeans. “Guess I surprised us both.”
With an eyebrow up high, Jensen’s voice is strangely neutral. “Certainly did.”
He snorts to himself. “I let it get a little away from me,” he mumbles with a quick glance up.
Jensen moves slowly, just barely bringing his leg over the bike without snagging his foot on the seat, and Jared allows himself a quick smirk, fully aware, and proud, that he set Jensen this way. “Should let it more often,” Jensen murmurs with an eye over his shoulder. When Jared does little more than stare in return, Jensen flashes a sharp smile. “You ready for the ride back?”
No matter the implications or gossip waiting for them tonight, tomorrow, or next week, it’s well worth it to wrap his arms around Jensen’s waist and press against his back again. “Ready and willing.”