J2 | An Unconventional Contract | NC-17
Title: An Unconventional Contract
Words: 2600
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/escort!Jensen
Summary: Jared is a lonely businessman craving normalcy with Jensen, the escort he's been seeing for two years.
Notes: Written for smpc; prequel to Domestic Dreams.
read on AO3
Jared’s palms are sweaty. A feeling he’s rather familiar with, along with the racing heartbeat, the throbbing in his ears as anxiety takes over his body.
“Is everything okay?” Jensen asks slowly, carefully eying Jared pacing the hotel suite.
Spinning around, Jared sucks in a long breath. Holds it longer than is really necessary because now his chest is too tight and his eyes are watering as his body craves normal breathing.
Jensen searches Jared’s face then sets his hands on his hips, bow legs obvious in his wide stance.
Jared’s heart aches with want. With need. The need to have Jensen every day of the week, thrice on Sundays, with the house and the family and Saturday evening barbeques in the warmth of Spring and Summer.
The feelings have been creeping up on him over the course of their relationship. Nearly two years now of regular business trips to the Northeast and planning Jensen’s services far enough in advance to guarantee he gets the man’s time no matter what a high-end escort’s schedule demands of him.
For so long, hiding so deep, Jared has craved a real life with a real man. Not these rendezvouses with someone he pays for sex. His family would never understand, nor would friends or coworkers, so he’s dug himself a grave to hide in until he feels the noose loosen around his neck and he can let himself go in hotel suites just like this one.
And now he’s on the precipice of either inching closer to his fantasy or crushing what little sense of reality he has with Jensen.
“I just …” Jared breathes in deeply again, lets himself release air to settle the tension tightening his spine. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Don’t know what?” Jensen asks, calm, direct, like Jared isn’t utterly unhinged. “Is it life threatening?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He huffs at himself, runs his hands through his hair then tucks it behind his ears. “No. In the big picture. Not really.”
“Is it anything that’ll get either of us in trouble?”
I already am. Jared thinks. Then wryly smiles as he considers the types of trouble Jensen could find himself in for his career choice. Finally, he answers, “No, nothing like that.”
Jensen sighs and his shoulders drop from the tight angles they’d been held at. Jared frowns for putting that kind of pressure on him. Wishes for nothing more than to not be in this particular situation, not least of all to worry Jensen over what madness has taken over.
Jared rubs a hand over his face with shame. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you do something?”
“Not yet,” Jared mutters.
Jensen marches forward and right past Jared. His voice takes on a rough, direct tone. “Okay, you need to relax. And sit down.”
Jared listens, more than happy to let his body relax in the luxurious cushions of the sofa. He’s barely aware that Jensen’s poured them each a glass of scotch until the tumbler is set in his hands. Jensen sits on the coffee table across from him, mirroring his spread knees, elbows on thighs, even the slow way Jared brings the drink up to his lips.
He feels the liquor’s heat soothe his chest and settle low in his belly as he takes a few healthy gulps to ease his nerves. Jensen drinks in time with him, though nowhere near as much, then cradles the glass in his hands and watches Jared.
“This is going to sound ridiculous,” Jared admits.
“I’m sure it won’t.”
Jensen’s smooth voice is probably meant to calm him, assure Jared he hasn’t gone off the deep end with what he’d planned for this evening.
Jared isn’t so sure.
Once he gets to the bottom of the glass, Jared stares into it. He swirls it around a little and watches the lasts few droplets run around the bottom rim. Awkwardly smiles because he’s an utter fool making a mess of something that’s supposed to be cut and dry.
He pays Jensen for a an evening of services, which can vary from the most vanilla evening of just hanging out and talking before settling into bed with languid, gentle orgasms, to something more demanding to temper Jared’s long-hidden desires.
The former has happened a bit over the last six months. Jared blames it on the demands of his job. His self-conscious knows better.
“I don’t know how to ask,” Jared confesses.
Jensen chuckles softly and pats Jared’s knee. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
Jared reaches for the blank envelope on the side table. It’s thick with a stack of twenties that signify Jared’s dream. And his fear.
Finally, he hands it over then bites his lip as he watches Jensen peek inside, thumb running across the edges of the bills before his eyes widen and he looks to Jared. “Well maybe not all,” Jensen says, a bit uncomfortable.
Like a professional, he recovers well and offers Jared a simple smile.
“What’re you thinking?”
“It’s ridiculous.” Jared stares at his empty glass again, wishing like hell he had the bottle nearby.
“Try me,” Jensen dares him.
Now Jared meets Jensen’s gaze and loses himself in those soft green eyes, thinks about falling into them every morning and night.
“Jared. Trust me. I do all sorts of things for my clients.”
He winces at the thought of what else Jensen does when he’s not here. A green jealous spark flares all over and he considers ending the evening right here. Kicking Jensen out just so he doesn’t have to look at the face that hundreds of other people have adored.
Except Jared rather admires the shape of Jensen, too, and can’t bear to release this bungee that tugs him in and out on a regular basis.
“I want something more …” Jared holds off on the words until he can find the right ones.
“Kinky?”
He bites the inside of his mouth and shakes his head. “No. Kind of the opposite.”
Jensen glances at the envelope, squeezes, then places it on the seat of the chair just beside them. He scoots to the edge of the coffee table and his hands settle on Jared’s knees. His voice drops low and quiet. “Okay. Whatever you want.” A calm smile eases Jared for a moment. “Just let me know what you’re thinking.”
The softness in Jensen’s gaze and his touch lets Jared unravel the torment wrapped tight around his mind. “I want to … to pretend that.” He curses at himself for losing his nerve to just say it. Also curses Jensen for being so patient. The silence between them makes Jared lose the nerve to speak.
Jared flinches when Jensen’s thumb rubs, a gentle back-and-forth motion across Jared’s knee.
“Just like this,” Jared breathes out. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the notion that Jensen truly cares, honestly is trying to lull him into relief. “Pretend that …” this is real, he longs to say but feels the rest of that sentence hang heavy on him. “Pretend it’s a relationship, when we’re together.”
He opens his eyes to find Jensen leaning closer.
Shuts them again and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Jensen runs his hands up the outside of Jared’s thighs and squeezes. “Sorry for what?”
Jared swallows hard, keeps his eyes tightly closed. “For being such a wreck about this.”
“Don’t be,” he insists. When his touch disappears, Jared opens his eyes and watches Jensen slip off his suit jacket, fold it over, and place it on the chair, covering the envelope that holds Jared’s dream. He leans forward and kisses Jared’s forehead. “You’re adorable when you fidget.”
“I’m not,” he protests immediately, trying like hell to cover up his stress now that he’s said it aloud.
“And when you’re utterly clueless, babe.” Jensen smirks and winks, and Jared breathes a sigh of relief.
“You’re starting already.” It’s mostly a question, but also full of joy.
Jensen immediately slips into a whole new persona. Loose and easy as he rolls up the cuffs of his white oxford shirt. “So what’d you want to do for dinner?”
Tears burn in Jared’s eyes with the relief that Jensen has so easily dipped into the façade. Fake or not, he rather appreciates it. And Jensen, that much more.
***
After room service and Thursday Night Football, mostly spent bickering over the shape of the Broncos’ defensive line, they retire to the bedroom like a proper domesticated couple.
Jensen easily drops his clothes until he’s down to his boxer briefs, tight navy cotton molded to his thighs, the small, yet pert ass. The elastic band tucking into the softness around his waist.
Jared is nervous once again, taken out of the reverie of their dinner and football, and reminded of what this whole set-up really is. He wonders how he’s supposed to proceed; he’s never done normal before. Not where he truly cared to.
With only a short pause, Jensen walks up to him and smiles, gets to work on unbuttoning Jared’s shirt. When he’s gotten them all undone, and Jared still hasn’t moved, Jensen pauses. “Is this alright?”
Jared has touched Jensen dozens of times before, in all sorts of places. Somehow, the need to touch his bare skin in this moment seems far more daunting than any time before. He slowly brings his hand up to curl around Jensen’s hip. Carefully answers, “This is perfect.”
“Okay,” Jensen says with a nod. He moves onto Jared’s belt and his pants, tries to hide the awkward tilt to his mouth that tells Jared that he’s at least a little nervous in this situation. “You tell me when I’m doing something wrong.”
Whispering, “I would never,” happens before Jared can stop it.
Jensen laughs and smiles brilliantly at him. “You say that now. Wait until I forget to iron your shirts.”
He can picture Jensen, with the smooth lines of his own clothes that seem to never rumple, in a laundry room surrounded by perfectly starched shirts, an iron in hand as his best weapon. “You would iron my shirts?”
“Any time, babe.” Up on tip toes, Jensen kisses Jared, pulls on his neck to bring them closer as he slips his tongue inside.
At the simplicity of babe, Jared immediately wraps his arms around Jensen with his hands gripping tight to the warm, smooth skin of his back. He kisses back with more intensity as he recognizes that this is his, in this very moment, and no one else’s.
He backwalks them to the bed and Jensen easily follows, then playfully shoves Jared down to the mattress. Jared is left to watch, with sweet yet burning want, as Jensen slips his underwear down, grabs the bottle of lube on the nightstand, and climbs right into Jared’s lap.
Another round of deep kisses leaves Jared’s lips numb and his throat dry, chest heaving with the need for more air. Jensen sets his forehead to Jared’s and asks, “You wanna open me up or you wanna watch?”
“Both?” Jared replies immediately. “Both is good.”
Jensen’s laugh melts into more kissing and Jared loses himself in it for so long that he doesn’t even realize that Jensen has answered his own question by spreading the lube along his hole. All the while, Jared’s hands are busy running along Jensen’s face, his neck, across his hair, unable to stop touching him in the most adoring caresses.
Jared remains still with surprise when Jensen rises to his knees and shuffles back so he can get Jared’s dick out, lubes it up good and strokes him to full hardness. Expertly slips the condom onto Jared.
“If I remember correctly,” Jensen starts, huffing out a breath as Jared’s dick begins to press inside. “You rather enjoy watching me do all the work.”
He’s not wrong; Jared’s told him such before. Yet the chiding tone makes Jared smile as he thinks about Jensen’s homey alter ego playing long suffering against Jared’s easy going personality.
“I surely don’t mind it,” Jared replies. He runs his hands along Jensen’s thighs, newly appreciating the softness of tiny hairs thinning out the higher he goes, until he’s wrapping his fingers around Jensen’s hips. He guides Jensen down as he flexes up, groans with the pure heat wrapped all around his cock. “Don’t mind this either.”
Jensen smirks. “Me neither.” Then rises enough to let the head of Jared’s dick spread his hole wider, drops down carefully, and starts up a slow, easy rhythm to repeat.
He watches as Jensen fucks himself on Jared, feels the tension in Jensen’s thighs working to lift himself up and let himself down. He’s had this view, this hold, with Jensen tens of times before, but his heart is full with adoration as he falls into the fantasy of his lover, his match, making love with a sweet smile on his face.
“You wanna come?” Jensen asks, maybe taunts.
Reaching around, Jared grips at Jensen’s asscheeks, pulling them wider as he pumps his hips up faster. “You best your sweet ass I do.”
“This sweet ass is all yours, sir.” He’s teasing, but then he’s panting as Jared’s hips fiercely pump to slap sweaty skin together, loudly echoing in the bedroom. “Oh fuck! Jared!” he cries out as he takes Jared’s quickening strokes. “God, you feel so good.
Jared grins as he fucks Jensen with the same ferocity that he worships the man. Strikes deep with every movement, tugs on Jensen’s ass to keep them tight to one another, licks his lips as he thinks about drinking from Jensen’s mouth once they’re done.
Jensen’s breathing is scattered as he seems to lose himself in it all, and Jared decides to go one better and fists Jensen’s dick. He strokes as close to their rhythm as possible until Jensen is completely undone and shooting across Jared’s hand and stomach. When he falls onto Jared’s chest, Jared holds him close and fucks into him a few more times until he’s completely lost and comes while buried deep.
They stay together, just like that, as they kiss through the floaty downfall of their orgasms. Jared couldn’t be happier with not moving anything aside from his lips, softly caressing Jensen’s mouth.
***
Jared wakes to the smell of bacon. Jensen has ordered room service for breakfast, not too uncommon with their lengthy arrangement. What differs is when he rolls the tray into the bedroom and brings the covered plates into bed for them to share.
It’s not far off from any dream sequence Jared’s had lately, with Jensen starring as the perfect husband who’s a fan of breakfast in bed and coffee steaming hot to wake them both up before starting their days.
The fantasy continues with a shared shower, where Jared flicks shampoo at Jensen, and Jensen grimaces before accepting soapy kisses and easily forgiving Jared’s friskiness. They even get dressed together, and watch the morning news in the living room, in between Jensen reading out snippets of the USA Today he’d recovered from the suite’s doorstep.
And it carries on to their departure at the front of the suite.
“I had a good night,” Jared admits softly, yet with a smile firmly in place.
Jensen returns the warmth with a long look then pats Jared’s chest. “Have a nice day at work,” he murmurs just before kissing Jared soundly on the lips.
Then he’s walking through the door and down the hallway. Jared watches until Jensen disappears with a smile firmly in place.
The weight of it all crumbles slowly until the next morning when Jared’s in the shower alone. Thankful for all the water drowning his tears.
Words: 2600
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/escort!Jensen
Summary: Jared is a lonely businessman craving normalcy with Jensen, the escort he's been seeing for two years.
Notes: Written for smpc; prequel to Domestic Dreams.
read on AO3
Jared’s palms are sweaty. A feeling he’s rather familiar with, along with the racing heartbeat, the throbbing in his ears as anxiety takes over his body.
“Is everything okay?” Jensen asks slowly, carefully eying Jared pacing the hotel suite.
Spinning around, Jared sucks in a long breath. Holds it longer than is really necessary because now his chest is too tight and his eyes are watering as his body craves normal breathing.
Jensen searches Jared’s face then sets his hands on his hips, bow legs obvious in his wide stance.
Jared’s heart aches with want. With need. The need to have Jensen every day of the week, thrice on Sundays, with the house and the family and Saturday evening barbeques in the warmth of Spring and Summer.
The feelings have been creeping up on him over the course of their relationship. Nearly two years now of regular business trips to the Northeast and planning Jensen’s services far enough in advance to guarantee he gets the man’s time no matter what a high-end escort’s schedule demands of him.
For so long, hiding so deep, Jared has craved a real life with a real man. Not these rendezvouses with someone he pays for sex. His family would never understand, nor would friends or coworkers, so he’s dug himself a grave to hide in until he feels the noose loosen around his neck and he can let himself go in hotel suites just like this one.
And now he’s on the precipice of either inching closer to his fantasy or crushing what little sense of reality he has with Jensen.
“I just …” Jared breathes in deeply again, lets himself release air to settle the tension tightening his spine. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Don’t know what?” Jensen asks, calm, direct, like Jared isn’t utterly unhinged. “Is it life threatening?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He huffs at himself, runs his hands through his hair then tucks it behind his ears. “No. In the big picture. Not really.”
“Is it anything that’ll get either of us in trouble?”
I already am. Jared thinks. Then wryly smiles as he considers the types of trouble Jensen could find himself in for his career choice. Finally, he answers, “No, nothing like that.”
Jensen sighs and his shoulders drop from the tight angles they’d been held at. Jared frowns for putting that kind of pressure on him. Wishes for nothing more than to not be in this particular situation, not least of all to worry Jensen over what madness has taken over.
Jared rubs a hand over his face with shame. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you do something?”
“Not yet,” Jared mutters.
Jensen marches forward and right past Jared. His voice takes on a rough, direct tone. “Okay, you need to relax. And sit down.”
Jared listens, more than happy to let his body relax in the luxurious cushions of the sofa. He’s barely aware that Jensen’s poured them each a glass of scotch until the tumbler is set in his hands. Jensen sits on the coffee table across from him, mirroring his spread knees, elbows on thighs, even the slow way Jared brings the drink up to his lips.
He feels the liquor’s heat soothe his chest and settle low in his belly as he takes a few healthy gulps to ease his nerves. Jensen drinks in time with him, though nowhere near as much, then cradles the glass in his hands and watches Jared.
“This is going to sound ridiculous,” Jared admits.
“I’m sure it won’t.”
Jensen’s smooth voice is probably meant to calm him, assure Jared he hasn’t gone off the deep end with what he’d planned for this evening.
Jared isn’t so sure.
Once he gets to the bottom of the glass, Jared stares into it. He swirls it around a little and watches the lasts few droplets run around the bottom rim. Awkwardly smiles because he’s an utter fool making a mess of something that’s supposed to be cut and dry.
He pays Jensen for a an evening of services, which can vary from the most vanilla evening of just hanging out and talking before settling into bed with languid, gentle orgasms, to something more demanding to temper Jared’s long-hidden desires.
The former has happened a bit over the last six months. Jared blames it on the demands of his job. His self-conscious knows better.
“I don’t know how to ask,” Jared confesses.
Jensen chuckles softly and pats Jared’s knee. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
Jared reaches for the blank envelope on the side table. It’s thick with a stack of twenties that signify Jared’s dream. And his fear.
Finally, he hands it over then bites his lip as he watches Jensen peek inside, thumb running across the edges of the bills before his eyes widen and he looks to Jared. “Well maybe not all,” Jensen says, a bit uncomfortable.
Like a professional, he recovers well and offers Jared a simple smile.
“What’re you thinking?”
“It’s ridiculous.” Jared stares at his empty glass again, wishing like hell he had the bottle nearby.
“Try me,” Jensen dares him.
Now Jared meets Jensen’s gaze and loses himself in those soft green eyes, thinks about falling into them every morning and night.
“Jared. Trust me. I do all sorts of things for my clients.”
He winces at the thought of what else Jensen does when he’s not here. A green jealous spark flares all over and he considers ending the evening right here. Kicking Jensen out just so he doesn’t have to look at the face that hundreds of other people have adored.
Except Jared rather admires the shape of Jensen, too, and can’t bear to release this bungee that tugs him in and out on a regular basis.
“I want something more …” Jared holds off on the words until he can find the right ones.
“Kinky?”
He bites the inside of his mouth and shakes his head. “No. Kind of the opposite.”
Jensen glances at the envelope, squeezes, then places it on the seat of the chair just beside them. He scoots to the edge of the coffee table and his hands settle on Jared’s knees. His voice drops low and quiet. “Okay. Whatever you want.” A calm smile eases Jared for a moment. “Just let me know what you’re thinking.”
The softness in Jensen’s gaze and his touch lets Jared unravel the torment wrapped tight around his mind. “I want to … to pretend that.” He curses at himself for losing his nerve to just say it. Also curses Jensen for being so patient. The silence between them makes Jared lose the nerve to speak.
Jared flinches when Jensen’s thumb rubs, a gentle back-and-forth motion across Jared’s knee.
“Just like this,” Jared breathes out. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the notion that Jensen truly cares, honestly is trying to lull him into relief. “Pretend that …” this is real, he longs to say but feels the rest of that sentence hang heavy on him. “Pretend it’s a relationship, when we’re together.”
He opens his eyes to find Jensen leaning closer.
Shuts them again and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Jensen runs his hands up the outside of Jared’s thighs and squeezes. “Sorry for what?”
Jared swallows hard, keeps his eyes tightly closed. “For being such a wreck about this.”
“Don’t be,” he insists. When his touch disappears, Jared opens his eyes and watches Jensen slip off his suit jacket, fold it over, and place it on the chair, covering the envelope that holds Jared’s dream. He leans forward and kisses Jared’s forehead. “You’re adorable when you fidget.”
“I’m not,” he protests immediately, trying like hell to cover up his stress now that he’s said it aloud.
“And when you’re utterly clueless, babe.” Jensen smirks and winks, and Jared breathes a sigh of relief.
“You’re starting already.” It’s mostly a question, but also full of joy.
Jensen immediately slips into a whole new persona. Loose and easy as he rolls up the cuffs of his white oxford shirt. “So what’d you want to do for dinner?”
Tears burn in Jared’s eyes with the relief that Jensen has so easily dipped into the façade. Fake or not, he rather appreciates it. And Jensen, that much more.
***
After room service and Thursday Night Football, mostly spent bickering over the shape of the Broncos’ defensive line, they retire to the bedroom like a proper domesticated couple.
Jensen easily drops his clothes until he’s down to his boxer briefs, tight navy cotton molded to his thighs, the small, yet pert ass. The elastic band tucking into the softness around his waist.
Jared is nervous once again, taken out of the reverie of their dinner and football, and reminded of what this whole set-up really is. He wonders how he’s supposed to proceed; he’s never done normal before. Not where he truly cared to.
With only a short pause, Jensen walks up to him and smiles, gets to work on unbuttoning Jared’s shirt. When he’s gotten them all undone, and Jared still hasn’t moved, Jensen pauses. “Is this alright?”
Jared has touched Jensen dozens of times before, in all sorts of places. Somehow, the need to touch his bare skin in this moment seems far more daunting than any time before. He slowly brings his hand up to curl around Jensen’s hip. Carefully answers, “This is perfect.”
“Okay,” Jensen says with a nod. He moves onto Jared’s belt and his pants, tries to hide the awkward tilt to his mouth that tells Jared that he’s at least a little nervous in this situation. “You tell me when I’m doing something wrong.”
Whispering, “I would never,” happens before Jared can stop it.
Jensen laughs and smiles brilliantly at him. “You say that now. Wait until I forget to iron your shirts.”
He can picture Jensen, with the smooth lines of his own clothes that seem to never rumple, in a laundry room surrounded by perfectly starched shirts, an iron in hand as his best weapon. “You would iron my shirts?”
“Any time, babe.” Up on tip toes, Jensen kisses Jared, pulls on his neck to bring them closer as he slips his tongue inside.
At the simplicity of babe, Jared immediately wraps his arms around Jensen with his hands gripping tight to the warm, smooth skin of his back. He kisses back with more intensity as he recognizes that this is his, in this very moment, and no one else’s.
He backwalks them to the bed and Jensen easily follows, then playfully shoves Jared down to the mattress. Jared is left to watch, with sweet yet burning want, as Jensen slips his underwear down, grabs the bottle of lube on the nightstand, and climbs right into Jared’s lap.
Another round of deep kisses leaves Jared’s lips numb and his throat dry, chest heaving with the need for more air. Jensen sets his forehead to Jared’s and asks, “You wanna open me up or you wanna watch?”
“Both?” Jared replies immediately. “Both is good.”
Jensen’s laugh melts into more kissing and Jared loses himself in it for so long that he doesn’t even realize that Jensen has answered his own question by spreading the lube along his hole. All the while, Jared’s hands are busy running along Jensen’s face, his neck, across his hair, unable to stop touching him in the most adoring caresses.
Jared remains still with surprise when Jensen rises to his knees and shuffles back so he can get Jared’s dick out, lubes it up good and strokes him to full hardness. Expertly slips the condom onto Jared.
“If I remember correctly,” Jensen starts, huffing out a breath as Jared’s dick begins to press inside. “You rather enjoy watching me do all the work.”
He’s not wrong; Jared’s told him such before. Yet the chiding tone makes Jared smile as he thinks about Jensen’s homey alter ego playing long suffering against Jared’s easy going personality.
“I surely don’t mind it,” Jared replies. He runs his hands along Jensen’s thighs, newly appreciating the softness of tiny hairs thinning out the higher he goes, until he’s wrapping his fingers around Jensen’s hips. He guides Jensen down as he flexes up, groans with the pure heat wrapped all around his cock. “Don’t mind this either.”
Jensen smirks. “Me neither.” Then rises enough to let the head of Jared’s dick spread his hole wider, drops down carefully, and starts up a slow, easy rhythm to repeat.
He watches as Jensen fucks himself on Jared, feels the tension in Jensen’s thighs working to lift himself up and let himself down. He’s had this view, this hold, with Jensen tens of times before, but his heart is full with adoration as he falls into the fantasy of his lover, his match, making love with a sweet smile on his face.
“You wanna come?” Jensen asks, maybe taunts.
Reaching around, Jared grips at Jensen’s asscheeks, pulling them wider as he pumps his hips up faster. “You best your sweet ass I do.”
“This sweet ass is all yours, sir.” He’s teasing, but then he’s panting as Jared’s hips fiercely pump to slap sweaty skin together, loudly echoing in the bedroom. “Oh fuck! Jared!” he cries out as he takes Jared’s quickening strokes. “God, you feel so good.
Jared grins as he fucks Jensen with the same ferocity that he worships the man. Strikes deep with every movement, tugs on Jensen’s ass to keep them tight to one another, licks his lips as he thinks about drinking from Jensen’s mouth once they’re done.
Jensen’s breathing is scattered as he seems to lose himself in it all, and Jared decides to go one better and fists Jensen’s dick. He strokes as close to their rhythm as possible until Jensen is completely undone and shooting across Jared’s hand and stomach. When he falls onto Jared’s chest, Jared holds him close and fucks into him a few more times until he’s completely lost and comes while buried deep.
They stay together, just like that, as they kiss through the floaty downfall of their orgasms. Jared couldn’t be happier with not moving anything aside from his lips, softly caressing Jensen’s mouth.
***
Jared wakes to the smell of bacon. Jensen has ordered room service for breakfast, not too uncommon with their lengthy arrangement. What differs is when he rolls the tray into the bedroom and brings the covered plates into bed for them to share.
It’s not far off from any dream sequence Jared’s had lately, with Jensen starring as the perfect husband who’s a fan of breakfast in bed and coffee steaming hot to wake them both up before starting their days.
The fantasy continues with a shared shower, where Jared flicks shampoo at Jensen, and Jensen grimaces before accepting soapy kisses and easily forgiving Jared’s friskiness. They even get dressed together, and watch the morning news in the living room, in between Jensen reading out snippets of the USA Today he’d recovered from the suite’s doorstep.
And it carries on to their departure at the front of the suite.
“I had a good night,” Jared admits softly, yet with a smile firmly in place.
Jensen returns the warmth with a long look then pats Jared’s chest. “Have a nice day at work,” he murmurs just before kissing Jared soundly on the lips.
Then he’s walking through the door and down the hallway. Jared watches until Jensen disappears with a smile firmly in place.
The weight of it all crumbles slowly until the next morning when Jared’s in the shower alone. Thankful for all the water drowning his tears.