BECAUSE I CAN'T HELP IT!
Title: Burning Room
Words: 900ish
Rating: R - bad words
Summary: Jensen's a tease and Jared's flustered
Notes: standing_fic linked to this picture, all aflutter because YES IT'S GLORIOUS. Then some people discounted it as an incredibly good manip, but you know what? I DON'T CARE BECAUSE IT'S STILL FUCKING HOT AND DESERVES FIC. Title and cut from John Mayer's "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room"
Jared has always found it funny. As shy and reserved as Jensen really is, sometimes he’s a little too loose around the house. Like, walks around in only boxers, scratching way below the waistband, not realizing how much of his lower abdomen is showing. Like, will start unbuttoning his jeans in the kitchen while discussing dinner with Jared and before going to his room to change. Like, sometimes, even sober, will skinny dip in Jared’s pool when he’s too lazy to go inside for his trunks.
But after a while, it’s not so funny. And it’s kind of … turning Jared on. How open Jensen is in front of him. How little modesty he has in the house. It hits Jared that it only happens when it’s just the two of them - which it mostly is. But when Sandy used to visit, or when Tom or Mike, or Chris or Steve, stopped by for a night of drinking, Jensen remained fully clothed and just rolled his eyes if the guys got too revved up and egged each other on to swim in just boxers, or nothing at all. It’s like Jensen had never done it himself.
So when Jensen starts laying out on the living room floor, reading scripts in nothing but sweatpants - tugged way down, too far down, if you asked Jared - and a simple black rope around his neck, Jared has to stop participating in study group. Jensen usually gives him an odd glare when he leaves the room, sometimes asks what his problem is. But Jared can’t answer him, because his problem canonly be taken care of in the privacy of his own room or the shower.
*
Jensen does it again. Sprawls out in front of the couch - the one that Jared finds to be the most comfortable piece of furniture he’s ever put his ass to, and that he’s kind of offended Jensen refuses to use - on his bare belly, with the sweats slung low. So low, in fact that the waistband is rolled down and shows the curve of his ass, the dip of his crack. And Jared can’t stop staring. But then he flushes a little when Jensen pegs him with knowing smirk, fully right on where Jared’s eyes had just been.
“Problem?”
Jared shifts, trying to rearrange himself without actually using his hands. It’s so … not working.
Jensen just smirks, but looks back down to the script before him.
“You know what you’re doing?” Jared suddenly blurts. Then frowns at himself for saying it. He’s usually way smoother than this.
The hands clench within themselves while Jensen continues reading through Sam and Dean’s latest issues. His fat lips curl a little. “I’m working. Or something.”
“Something,” Jared snorts.
Jensen’s eyes move up to Jared again. Then his elbows slide a little so he can properly look up. “Take a picture.”
He rolls his eyes. “Last longer. Ha. Ha.”Jensen shifts again, so he’s resting a little higher and Jared can’t not watch how his back muscles ripple with the movement. He can’t ignore how his breath catches.
With a shake of his head, Jensen looks back down to the script. His lips roll over each other in thought, and then they open and close while he mouths the words on the page. And Jared can’t not watch that either. Jensen keeps reading, but he suddenly says, “Wanna come down here?”
Jared breathes deep and it’s loud, and then he’s scowling because Jensen’s smirking. Still not looking at him, but the asshole’s smirking.
One elbow juts out so he can look over at Jared but stay in relatively the same position. “What’s wrong?”
He can’t discount the smug smile on Jensen’s face, and he feels like it’s an out. For him to make fun of Jensen for being such a bitchy little princess. For showing off how smooth his body is with half the effort Jared puts into his. For him to make a joke then walk out of the room. But then Jared sees the eyes and smile soften, and neither are mocking or laughing at him anymore.
Jensen rolls to his side and Jared stares at the patch of skin just above the waistband, how the muscles cut and dip down into the pants. How the little white ties are resting among a tiny patch of brown curls that likely lead right down to ...
“You’re such a whore,” Jared spits out, laughing a little, but also pissy. Because this is the biggest fucking tease he’s ever had to deal with.
“You gonna come down here or what?”
“You seriously … you’re …” and Jared can’t even finish the whole thought, because he’s more surprised at Jensen than horrified at the way he’s been thinking, feeling, about his best friend.
Jensen rolls his eyes. “You are so fucking dense. Do I have to spell it out?”
N. O. Jared thinks, and seconds later he’s leaning over Jensen and feeling every inch of bare skin under his fingertips. Less than a minute later, he’s feeling the bits of skin that aren’t so bare and he shares Jensen’s knowing smile.
Part Two
Words: 900ish
Rating: R - bad words
Summary: Jensen's a tease and Jared's flustered
Notes: standing_fic linked to this picture, all aflutter because YES IT'S GLORIOUS. Then some people discounted it as an incredibly good manip, but you know what? I DON'T CARE BECAUSE IT'S STILL FUCKING HOT AND DESERVES FIC. Title and cut from John Mayer's "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room"
Jared has always found it funny. As shy and reserved as Jensen really is, sometimes he’s a little too loose around the house. Like, walks around in only boxers, scratching way below the waistband, not realizing how much of his lower abdomen is showing. Like, will start unbuttoning his jeans in the kitchen while discussing dinner with Jared and before going to his room to change. Like, sometimes, even sober, will skinny dip in Jared’s pool when he’s too lazy to go inside for his trunks.
But after a while, it’s not so funny. And it’s kind of … turning Jared on. How open Jensen is in front of him. How little modesty he has in the house. It hits Jared that it only happens when it’s just the two of them - which it mostly is. But when Sandy used to visit, or when Tom or Mike, or Chris or Steve, stopped by for a night of drinking, Jensen remained fully clothed and just rolled his eyes if the guys got too revved up and egged each other on to swim in just boxers, or nothing at all. It’s like Jensen had never done it himself.
So when Jensen starts laying out on the living room floor, reading scripts in nothing but sweatpants - tugged way down, too far down, if you asked Jared - and a simple black rope around his neck, Jared has to stop participating in study group. Jensen usually gives him an odd glare when he leaves the room, sometimes asks what his problem is. But Jared can’t answer him, because his problem canonly be taken care of in the privacy of his own room or the shower.
*
Jensen does it again. Sprawls out in front of the couch - the one that Jared finds to be the most comfortable piece of furniture he’s ever put his ass to, and that he’s kind of offended Jensen refuses to use - on his bare belly, with the sweats slung low. So low, in fact that the waistband is rolled down and shows the curve of his ass, the dip of his crack. And Jared can’t stop staring. But then he flushes a little when Jensen pegs him with knowing smirk, fully right on where Jared’s eyes had just been.
“Problem?”
Jared shifts, trying to rearrange himself without actually using his hands. It’s so … not working.
Jensen just smirks, but looks back down to the script before him.
“You know what you’re doing?” Jared suddenly blurts. Then frowns at himself for saying it. He’s usually way smoother than this.
The hands clench within themselves while Jensen continues reading through Sam and Dean’s latest issues. His fat lips curl a little. “I’m working. Or something.”
“Something,” Jared snorts.
Jensen’s eyes move up to Jared again. Then his elbows slide a little so he can properly look up. “Take a picture.”
He rolls his eyes. “Last longer. Ha. Ha.”Jensen shifts again, so he’s resting a little higher and Jared can’t not watch how his back muscles ripple with the movement. He can’t ignore how his breath catches.
With a shake of his head, Jensen looks back down to the script. His lips roll over each other in thought, and then they open and close while he mouths the words on the page. And Jared can’t not watch that either. Jensen keeps reading, but he suddenly says, “Wanna come down here?”
Jared breathes deep and it’s loud, and then he’s scowling because Jensen’s smirking. Still not looking at him, but the asshole’s smirking.
One elbow juts out so he can look over at Jared but stay in relatively the same position. “What’s wrong?”
He can’t discount the smug smile on Jensen’s face, and he feels like it’s an out. For him to make fun of Jensen for being such a bitchy little princess. For showing off how smooth his body is with half the effort Jared puts into his. For him to make a joke then walk out of the room. But then Jared sees the eyes and smile soften, and neither are mocking or laughing at him anymore.
Jensen rolls to his side and Jared stares at the patch of skin just above the waistband, how the muscles cut and dip down into the pants. How the little white ties are resting among a tiny patch of brown curls that likely lead right down to ...
“You’re such a whore,” Jared spits out, laughing a little, but also pissy. Because this is the biggest fucking tease he’s ever had to deal with.
“You gonna come down here or what?”
“You seriously … you’re …” and Jared can’t even finish the whole thought, because he’s more surprised at Jensen than horrified at the way he’s been thinking, feeling, about his best friend.
Jensen rolls his eyes. “You are so fucking dense. Do I have to spell it out?”
N. O. Jared thinks, and seconds later he’s leaning over Jensen and feeling every inch of bare skin under his fingertips. Less than a minute later, he’s feeling the bits of skin that aren’t so bare and he shares Jensen’s knowing smile.
Part Two