(no subject)
Short untitled suspender!pic induced moment of not quite porn for vartanluvva, reposted and tidied up from a locked entry.
(267 words, R, Jensen/Jared)
It's just. It's the fucking suspenders, man. The suspenders.
So, OK, yeah, usually suspenders would equal all kinds of dorkdom and Jared really really wouldn't list them as one of his bullet proof kinks, but that was before Jensen walked out of wardrobe fussing with the fucking things with a half annoyed frown pulling on the corners of his mouth. Jared's seen that frown before, seen him wearing it during countless photo shoots, like Jensen can't fucking believe the get up they've put him in this time in the name of art or whatthefuckever. But this isn't like that dumbass shoot with the astronaut suit or the thing with the pyjamas and the swimming pool and, OK, seriously? What the fuck was that about? But this isn’t like that.
This is.
This is fucking suspenders.
Look. Jared's only fucking human. There's only so much he can take. Like working day and night with the sonofabitch wasn't hard enough already now he has to deal with this shit? He's only. fucking. HUMAN. So, well, yeah. You better fucking believe that the first opportunity Jared gets he drags Jensen behind the makeup trailer by the freaking things and drops down onto his knees front of him in the dirt, dragging down zipper, pants and boxers in one long way too fluid motion so they puddle around a pair of familiar looking boots, the back of Jensen’s head hitting the trailer wall as Jared’s wide wet lips slide down over his cock before Jensen can even damn well think 'dude, the fuck?' because Jesus CHRIST.
Fucking suspenders, man.
Seriously.
(267 words, R, Jensen/Jared)
It's just. It's the fucking suspenders, man. The suspenders.
So, OK, yeah, usually suspenders would equal all kinds of dorkdom and Jared really really wouldn't list them as one of his bullet proof kinks, but that was before Jensen walked out of wardrobe fussing with the fucking things with a half annoyed frown pulling on the corners of his mouth. Jared's seen that frown before, seen him wearing it during countless photo shoots, like Jensen can't fucking believe the get up they've put him in this time in the name of art or whatthefuckever. But this isn't like that dumbass shoot with the astronaut suit or the thing with the pyjamas and the swimming pool and, OK, seriously? What the fuck was that about? But this isn’t like that.
This is.
This is fucking suspenders.
Look. Jared's only fucking human. There's only so much he can take. Like working day and night with the sonofabitch wasn't hard enough already now he has to deal with this shit? He's only. fucking. HUMAN. So, well, yeah. You better fucking believe that the first opportunity Jared gets he drags Jensen behind the makeup trailer by the freaking things and drops down onto his knees front of him in the dirt, dragging down zipper, pants and boxers in one long way too fluid motion so they puddle around a pair of familiar looking boots, the back of Jensen’s head hitting the trailer wall as Jared’s wide wet lips slide down over his cock before Jensen can even damn well think 'dude, the fuck?' because Jesus CHRIST.
Fucking suspenders, man.
Seriously.