(no subject)
My flashback fic continues to be a stubborn little bitch, so.
Five times Jared and Jensen touched (and it changed everything)
Jared/Jensen.
Light R. 444 words.
Five times Jared and Jensen touched (and it changed everything).
1.
It’s the forth take and Jared trips over his own feet to the chorus of Jensen laughing like it’s the funniest goddamn thing in the world. Jared huffs, ears red, and snubs the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. The lights are being reset and the camera pulled back on its track for take five.
Jensen claps him on the back once with feeling, but his hand lingers, moves up to the back of his neck for a moment before it’s gone.
2.
“You are so full of shit.”
Rosenbaum‘s laughter is loud. “Fuck you, I swear to God that’s what happened.”
Jensen rolls his eyes and tips his head back as he drains the last dregs of his beer. His knee bumps against Jared’s as he gets up, denim against denim and it‘s nothing, really, nothing to get twisted up about, and yet.
And yet.
“You want?” Jensen asks, fingers tapping against the neck of the empty bottle.
Jared nods, clears his throat, says, “Yeah,” and flicks a Gummi bear at Mike‘s smirk.
3
Head hanging down loose on his neck, spine curved, propped up by his elbows, Jared stutters out, “Jen,“ and “God, you,” and “Jensen,” and a dozen more broken words that get lost somewhere between his throat and the heavy air in the bedroom when Jensen palms the back of his knee and pushes it up up up, bent and open and, “Sonofabitch will you. Just. Christ.”
“Hush,” said low on the small of Jared’s back, wet lips brushing skin and it’s enough to make a shudder of heat roll up his spine, prickling nerves along his neck. Jensen pushes his thumb into the back of Jared’s knee deep between the tendons, making him buck forward, cock pressed damply between the mattress and his belly.
“C’mon,” Jared grunts, legs shifting against the sheets. “ Please.”
Jensen laughs, murmurs, “Hush,” again into the crease where Jared’s ass meets his thigh like he isn’t asking for a freaking miracle.
4.
Jensen’s hand is relaxed against the pillow, fingers curled inwards, wrist naked. The rain on the window reflects patterns onto Jensen’s face, the slow quick slow movement of shadow and light. Jared watches, too lazy to move but the possibility is there, right there.
He closes his eyes and presses his nose against Jensen’s shoulder.
5.
Jared stands up when the door opens, brushing his warm palms over his thighs, an easy smile on his face that matches the one on Jensen’s.
“I’m Jared,” he says, arm outstretched for Jensen’s hand.
Jensen meets him half way. “Jensen.”
end
Five times Jared and Jensen touched (and it changed everything)
Jared/Jensen.
Light R. 444 words.
Five times Jared and Jensen touched (and it changed everything).
1.
It’s the forth take and Jared trips over his own feet to the chorus of Jensen laughing like it’s the funniest goddamn thing in the world. Jared huffs, ears red, and snubs the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. The lights are being reset and the camera pulled back on its track for take five.
Jensen claps him on the back once with feeling, but his hand lingers, moves up to the back of his neck for a moment before it’s gone.
2.
“You are so full of shit.”
Rosenbaum‘s laughter is loud. “Fuck you, I swear to God that’s what happened.”
Jensen rolls his eyes and tips his head back as he drains the last dregs of his beer. His knee bumps against Jared’s as he gets up, denim against denim and it‘s nothing, really, nothing to get twisted up about, and yet.
And yet.
“You want?” Jensen asks, fingers tapping against the neck of the empty bottle.
Jared nods, clears his throat, says, “Yeah,” and flicks a Gummi bear at Mike‘s smirk.
3
Head hanging down loose on his neck, spine curved, propped up by his elbows, Jared stutters out, “Jen,“ and “God, you,” and “Jensen,” and a dozen more broken words that get lost somewhere between his throat and the heavy air in the bedroom when Jensen palms the back of his knee and pushes it up up up, bent and open and, “Sonofabitch will you. Just. Christ.”
“Hush,” said low on the small of Jared’s back, wet lips brushing skin and it’s enough to make a shudder of heat roll up his spine, prickling nerves along his neck. Jensen pushes his thumb into the back of Jared’s knee deep between the tendons, making him buck forward, cock pressed damply between the mattress and his belly.
“C’mon,” Jared grunts, legs shifting against the sheets. “ Please.”
Jensen laughs, murmurs, “Hush,” again into the crease where Jared’s ass meets his thigh like he isn’t asking for a freaking miracle.
4.
Jensen’s hand is relaxed against the pillow, fingers curled inwards, wrist naked. The rain on the window reflects patterns onto Jensen’s face, the slow quick slow movement of shadow and light. Jared watches, too lazy to move but the possibility is there, right there.
He closes his eyes and presses his nose against Jensen’s shoulder.
5.
Jared stands up when the door opens, brushing his warm palms over his thighs, an easy smile on his face that matches the one on Jensen’s.
“I’m Jared,” he says, arm outstretched for Jensen’s hand.
Jensen meets him half way. “Jensen.”
end