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Oh fuck hey guys I wrote a fic.
Series: RPS
Title: Mangoes
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: 18+/NC-17
Word Count: 3.947
Summary: Jensen starts a joke that involves leaving sticky messes of fruit residue where it will bother Jared most. Only neither of them are really laughing.
Monday is a peach.
Someone left the blinds open. Jensen really, really wants to blame Jared for this monstrosity. But Jensen remembers opening them to moon Jared, who had been mowing the lawn. He'll blame Jared any way.
That being said, there is no way Jensen can go back to sleep now. He rolls over to face the open window, closing his eyes against the bright morning light. He shifts, feeling the soft cotton linen against his bare thighs. Hands pressed under the pillows, he opens his eyes. Despite the warmth of the sun on his face, a chill runs down his back, gooseflesh rising. He looks up to his ceiling. The fan is on. He knows he wasn't the one who turned it on.
Happy to have something to blame Jared on, he slowly rises from his bed. He stretches out, sore muscles resisting and healed bones popping and slightly dry skin pulling. His stomach complains, it's a loud complaint that fills the room. Jensen will be happy to oblige.
His feet touch the cold floor and he's quick to make his way to the kitchen. Jensen gives a low, sure whistle, calling for the dogs. He's used to them greeting him every morning. But they don't come. Jared must have taken them somewhere.
The kitchen is warmer than his bedroom. Possibly remnants of heat left from whatever Jared made for breakfast. Jensen looks around for bacon, or eggs, or pancakes, or something, but there's nothing.
"Bastard," he mutters. He's too lazy to cook something himself. He opens the cupboards, looking for something easy to eat.
He closes them again. He doesn't feel like cereal. Or Poptarts. He licks his lips and checks the refrigerator. Jared had just bought fruit. The random assortment of fruits was hidden in a bag in the back. Hidden from Jensen.
"Perfect." He reaches for the bag, pulling out the top fruit. A peach. Jensen shrugs and puts the bag back, trying to situate it to look as if he hadn't just stolen part of its contents.
He goes to sit at the kitchen table. There are currently no placemats to protect the oak surface, so he places a folded up paper towel in front of his seat.
Biting into the fruit, the sweet smell curls into his nostrils and he chews the soft flesh. He's pretty sure the peach juice is dripping onto the table and he makes a half-assed attempt to mop it up with the paper towel, but he just spreads it around.
He's about half way to the pit when he hears Jared arrive. Actually, he hears the dogs first, their nails clacking on the tile floor before the front door closes quietly. Jared must think Jensen's still asleep.
"In here!" Jensen calls out around a mouthful of peach. "Not eating your fruit!"
The dogs come running to his voice. Jared comes clomping in after them. "That's okay, I hid them so you'd eat them. You're gonna get fa--" He stops. Jensen is mid-bite, the liquid seeping from the corner of his mouth spilling out onto his table. Jared swallows.
"You better clean that up. I don't want you to leave sticky messes all over the place."
Jared is standing over him now. Trying to look intimidating. Jensen turns in his chair and reaches up to smear his fingers across Jared's tee-shirt. His fingers linger. Intimidation failed.
Jensen starts chewing loudly, his mouth open to show the half masticated food. His sticky fingers tap on the back of the chair, making the awkward noise of flesh attaching itself only to be pulled away.
"You disgust me," Jared mutters. But he's smiling, turning around to hide the grin.
"You love me." Jensen turns back to his food, carefully eating around the pit.
"Don't leave your messes on my counters," Jared reminds him as he walks to the living room.
"What about your bed?" Jensen calls back.
"Creep! Stay out of my room! And clean up after yourself!" Jared's out of range now.
Jensen doesn't clean up.
---
Tuesday is a pear.
Jensen is in Jared's trailer, taking a break. The interior of the trailer is nice. Clean. Wood cabinets, big soft couch. Dogs sleeping on the floor. It has the air of a hotel room. Or a hotel room lobby. Jensen can't decide. But it's too clean.
Not sticky.
He's sitting at the tiny wood table, looking out the small window. Looking for Jared, whose scene should almost be done.
Jensen pulls the pear out of his coat pocket, its soft green skin slightly bruised from having made the journey in unprotected concealment. This time he doesn't bother with a napkin or paper towel. He quickly bites into the fruit. He didn't actually expect it to juice much, but then again he is not a connoisseur of fruits. It's enough for him to work with.
The pear juice is a bit airier than he would have thought. No. Airy is not the way to describe it. But it's lighter than the peach.
He eats messily. His mother would not be proud. After he has made a decent mess on the table, he goes to the refrigerator and grabs the handle, but does not pull. Next he touches the light switch. He continues on, walking around the trailer touching things with his sticky fingers, all the while eating his pear and leaving tiny droplets of juice on the floor.
Jared walks in on Jensen pulling on the cord attached to the ceiling fan.
"What are you doing?" he asks as he reaches for the refrigerator handle. He pulls back in disgust. "Ugh! Jen! Are you serious?"
Jensen smiles, swallowing the last bit of pear. "Welcome home honey."
Jared steps right up to Jensen, angry look on his face. But Jensen isn't buying it. Jared can't hide the glint of humor in his eyes.
Jensen smacks his lips together in Jared's face, having trouble repeatedly pulling them apart as they become stickier and stickier.
Jared raises his hand and for a second Jensen thinks he actually is angry. But his fingers soften and he reaches towards Jensen's face.
Jensen pulls back, confused, but Jared's arm reach is long and he catches Jensen's cheek. He smears the juice from Jensen's temple to jaw. Jensen is caught off guard but is quick to react, smearing his fingers against Jared's strong forearm.
This struggle turns into a wrestling match, the boys rolling around on the floor, rolling through the small trails of juice Jensen had left earlier. They knock over a chair, waking Harley. He barks and starts circling the two, excited by the match.
Jared ends up with his knee pressing into Jensen's chest, holding him down, arm across his collar bone. Jensen bends up awkwardly and licks Jared's arm, the sweetness of the pear on his tongue mixing with the salt of Jared's sweat.
Jared grunts and pulls back. "Dude, too far," he laughs. He rubs Jensen's saliva back on his own face before standing up, offering Jensen a hand up. Jensen took the offer and he was practically dragged up. Jared never realizes how strong he is.
They stand there for a moment, breathing heavily, sugar-coated fingers stuck together, dog running around their legs. Their eyes lock and the quickly take their hands apart, flesh pulling at flesh.
They go about their day as usual.
---
Wednesday is a plum.
There are four plums in the bag. The dark purple flesh calls to him. Jensen can't remember ever actually eating plums by themselves. He imagines the juices would stain.
It takes him a long while to think of where to eat them. The couch is black. That's no good. Jared's sheets are white. But that's too easy. Jared' favorite chair. It's tan. It's that weird soft, woven fabric that is just begging to be tainted. Jensen has never sat in it. Not that the chair is forbidden, just that it never occurred to him.
Jared is gone for a few hours. Jensen knows he has to savor this moment.
He carefully climbs into the large chair. Jared loves it because of its size. Jensen runs his hands against the fabric; it's soft and slightly fuzzy. His boxers ride up his thighs as he slings his legs over the armrest. It tickles the underside of his legs. He feels a tingly sensation run over his body. Jared loves this chair. And his butt is in it. His butt now feels a stronger connection to Jared's butt. Because this chair is magical. He feels warm and comforted and wonders if Jared has ever had sex in this chair. He wouldn't blame him.
He scratches himself and lets the plums fall from his arms into his lap. Picking one up, he turns the small fruit around once or twice before biting into it. It's tart. The plum is quick to bleed, reddish liquid seeping out and down his chin. He wipes his face against the headrest.
He quickly consumes the plums, not enjoying them as much as he hoped. When he is done, there are several reddish purple stains on the armrests and headrest.
He walks away with satisfaction.
But half an hour before Jared is scheduled to return, Jensen feels regret. Jensen's not supposed to feel guilty, but Jared loves that chair. He quickly locates the stain removers and tries his damndest to make the chair look normal again. The magical chair. He does a good job, if he says so himself. Especially since the lighting is low. Maybe he'll change out the bulbs for a lower wattage. Then Jared will never notice.
He beats a hasty retreat to his room when he hears Jared come up the drive. He sits on his bed pretending to read a magazine, carefully listening as he hears Jared enter the house, kick off his boots. He holds his breath as he listens to Jared go up to his room, probably changing into his sweats. Jensen has to remember how to breathe when the television in the living room turns on. He prays Jared chooses to sit on the couch.
Suddenly, Jared is in his doorway, and this magazine is extremely interesting.
"What's up?" Jared asks, leaning his large frame against the doorjamb.
"Oh, oh. Not much." Jensen turns the page. "How was your day?"
"Good, good." Jared nods. "We have to be on set early tomorrow, but they said we can leave early if we get all the shots done." Jared shifts from foot to foot. Jensen has to not look up because Jared's wearing those sweats that show off his package and that's just awkward to be caught noticing.
"That's good." He turns the pages again. "How early, though?" His fingers are sticking to the pages and he tears them a little.
"I know what you did."
Jensen looks up, a creepy, nervous smile on his lips. Jared won't be mad, he knows, but still. He doesn't want him to cry over it or something. "What're you talkin' about, man?" He gives a real smile, twinkles in his eye. He kind of likes that he was found out.
Jared walks into the room, standing at the edge of Jensen's bed. Jensen is about to speak again when Jared grins and grabs his upper arm, pulling him up and over his shoulder. Jensen feels a bit sick as Jared carries him into the living room, Jared's large shoulder pressing into his stomach. The plums are revolting.
Jared drops Jensen in his chair and Jensen immediately knows how Jared figured it out. The chair is still damp.
"Oh, well, I'll go get a towel then," Jensen says as he raises himself back up, but a large foot to the chest prevents him from moving.
"You are my towel," Jared says happily and moves to sit on top of Jensen. Jensen doesn't escape in time. Jared's body comes down, a heavy weight covering Jensen's legs and chest. Jensen isn't a small guy himself, so it doesn't hurt. But it's still awkward.
"Jared I don't have any pants on."
"Whose fault is that?" Jared asks as he flips on the TV. He leans back against Jared, shifting in to make himself more comfortable. Jensen tries to remove his arms from the armrests, but Jared's strong arms come down on top to prevent those from moving as well.
Jensen can smell Jared. He can smell his shampoo and his deodorant, layered over the scent of his sweat and skin and fabric softener. He can feel Jared's back muscles tense and relax against his chest. Jared's hair tickles Jensen's cheek, the little flips tracing circles.
"Jared. Jared get up. You're too warm."
Jared settles himself in deeper. Jensen starts to breathe heavily, his cheeks pinking. He really wants Jared to get up. But he really doesn't. Jared's hand is coarse and callused on top of his. Jared turns his head slightly to look back at Jensen, one of those half playful half devious smiles gracing his lips.
"Fuckin' perv," Jensen says, matching his smile. "You like this." He wiggles under Jared.
"Oh baby do it harder." Jared leans back so his head is resting on Jensen's shoulder, their cheeks pressed together, stubble scratching.
They stay like this for a long time. Long enough for both of them to get used to it. Long enough for both of them to forget this was a joke. Long enough to not notice Jensen had moved his left arm to rest partially across Jared's waist. Long enough for them to fall asleep.
Jared comes out of sleep first. He pretends he's tired enough to not notice both of Jensen's arms are now around him, nose buried into Jared's neck, soft, sleep-filled breaths ghosting down his back.
Jensen comes out of sleep next. Jared is gone.
---
Thursday is a nectarine.
They're on set way too early. Jensen has a crick in his neck because Jared hadn't had the decency to wake him up so that he might sleep in his own bed.
He eats the nectarine in his director's chair when they're both on break. It looked like a cross between an apple and a peach so he wasn't sure how juicy it would be. Everyone on set stares at him as he eats it, liquid sugar running down his chin and onto his Dean jeans. They're going to be pissed at him.
Jared keeps casting looks at him.
The only reason Jensen is eating the nectarine out in public is he's not sure he could control himself if Jared found him eating it in private.
He doesn't have the energy to smear his fingers on anything.
---
Friday is a mango.
It's eleven o'clock at night. Jensen is awake in bed, starved. He had spent the day getting thrown around by a demon and he wasn't allowed to eat in case it made him vomit or something. By the time he and Jared had arrived home he was too tired to eat, so he just crashed in bed.
Now he's regretting it. He pushes the covers off, sitting up. His vision goes a bit wonky, his body angry from the deprivation of food.
Suddenly he's in the kitchen, staring into the refrigerator, its light the only thing illuminating the otherwise dark room. He doesn't remember walking here. Maybe he fell asleep on the way. There's one fruit left. To be honest, Jensen isn't sure what it is. Again, he's not a connoisseur of fruit. He grabs the reddish yellowish orange oblong fruit out of the bag, leaving the empty plastic in the fridge.
He shuts the refrigerator door and leans against the counter. He smells the skin of the fruit. It smells like Jared. Like Jared after he's been running in the summer past the flowering bushes and the cut grass and has sweated through his thin tee and jumped through a sprinkler in some stranger's yard to cool off.
Jensen bites into the fruit. The skin is slightly bitter but the spongy flesh is sweet. He licks his lips, trying to prevent any of it escaping. A bit trickles down and he tries to wipe it away, but his fingers are already sticky and he really doesn't care anyway.
He's reached the pit and he's too busy devouring the delicious fruit to notice the lights turn on.
"Are you eating my mango?" Jared walks up to Jensen, leaning over him. He doesn't have a shirt on. He's wearing those pants again.
Jensen takes another bite. He chews for a moment before he looks up at Jared. He swallows. Slowly. Licks his lips, smearing the sugar around. He takes another bite, staring at Jared. "No," he says, around a mouth full of the mango.
Jared grabs his wrist, forcefully but not painfully, and watches Jensen swallow his last bite. He leans in close and breathes in the air around Jensen. He takes a bite of the mango still in Jensen's hand.
Jensen watches Jared chew, his mouth parted as he exhales sweetness. Jensen's not sure who moves first, but he blames Jared. Jared's always at fault.
The mango has been dropped to the floor and their sugar lips are pressed together in a sticky kiss. The kiss itself is not sweet and delicate like the taste. It's rough and quick and harsh and Jensen can't get enough. He presses his fingers to Jared's chest, to the grouping muscles just below his pecs.
Jared runs his sugared tongue across Jensen's bottom lip before slipping it inside. He pulls Jensen's hips into his and digs his fingers into the soft flesh there.
Jensen is still not sure what's going on. "What are we doing?" he breathes, clutching Jared's back now. He's probably leaving nail marks.
"You ate my mango," Jared says, as if that was a justifiable reason for this.
Jensen's head is fuzzy and his body tingles and everywhere Jared touches is hot and cold at the same time. He can feel himself growing hard. Jared's thigh is thick and firm and warm between his legs and he knows this should feel wrong but his dick is telling him otherwise.
Jared's large hands are everywhere all at once. He's rubbing nectar through Jensen's hair and he's pulling at Jensen's shirt and he's tugging on Jensen's boxers and he's spreading Jensen's thighs. Jensen can feel Jared's own hardness against his hip and he wants more.
Their lips and tongues are still fighting a battle they're winning and losing at the same time and those large hands are suddenly down Jensen's boxers. Jensen can't breathe. He forces Jared's pants down, freeing him. He brushes his fingers against the firm flesh when suddenly Jared takes both of them into his hand, their fingers interlocking around each other. The tender underside of Jensen's dick is rubbing against Jared's and oh god does Jared realize that's his weakness?
Jensen breaks the kiss, gasping. He has to look. He squeezes his own hand with Jared and just the heads are sticking out from the top, beads of precome collecting at both their tips. Jared's rough thumb sweeps over the droplets, smearing them together with the mango juice on his hands.
Jensen's knees give out because Jared's thumb just bumped that spot and now the only thing supporting him is Jared's thigh. He pulls Jared down to kiss him again, trying to gain some control and certainty.
"Jared this isn't going to be enough, is it?" he asks. He uses his other hand to grip Jared's hair. They're never going to wash this away.
"Nope," Jared says and suddenly Jensen is on the floor alone and where did Jared go and he's pretty sure there's a mango under his right shoulder blade.
Before Jensen has time to touch himself Jared is back again with something in his hand. Jensen knows what it is but he's pretending he doesn't. He's pulling his own boxers off before his shirt is even off and he's using his toes to pull on Jared's. Jared isn't wearing anything under his sweats. Jensen idly wonders if Jared is always walking around the house like that.
They're naked now and Jared's hands are pulling Jensen's knees up. Five minutes ago Jensen would have said there's no way he'd be this easy but right now he doesn't care. Jared's cock is big and bobbing up and down and Jensen reaches out again because it just looks inviting. Jared's hand matches up with Jensen's and Jared's fingers are already slick with what Jensen is trying to ignore and they give a few squeezes.
Then Jared's hand is gone again and Jensen can't see it anymore but he can feel it pressing into him. It's uncomfortable and foreign but it's Jared and he pushes down to match him. Jensen is shivering but not from the cold and there's something wet suddenly on his cock and he bucks up and Jared has to push him down so he isn't gagged.
Jared takes him in further and he presses another finger in. He runs his bottom lip against that spot and Jensen is sure Jared knows now because he's kissing and licking and there's another finger and they're pumping in and out and Jensen can't take any more. He wants to come when Jared's inside him so he pulls back and Jared obviously gets the message because he pulls Jensen's legs up.
Jared has the tip against Jensen and Jensen's not entirely sure but he presses down before Jared can press in. He's happy to know that this catches Jared off guard but he's too busy wincing to really care. Jared stays like that for a heartbeat, half in and half out before they can reassure themselves.
Then Jared moves his hips forward slowly, sliding in easier than he had expected and Jensen's toes curl. "Come on," Jensen says through his teeth. And Jared listens and he's pushing fully inside and neither of them can breathe but they're both panting.
Jared is rocking into Jensen slower and faster than they'd both like and his hand is back on Jensen's dick and Jensen has his hand on top of Jared's and they're touching everywhere together at once. Jensen props himself up on his elbow so he can watch Jared. Seeing Jared's dick moving in and out of him is too much and he can't look any more but he doesn't look away and he can tell Jared likes being watched because he's moving faster.
It's getting too much and Jensen really can't remember how to breathe or talk any more all he can remember how to do is squeeze his hand around Jared's more as they work each other into climax. It's coming too quickly and both of them close their eyes as they work faster, both of them feeling the anticipation. Jensen doesn't want to be first but then Jared says his name and it's too much to hear his name on those lips in this situation and he's over. The tight curls inside him release and he's gone over the edge and he tenses around Jared's dick and now Jared's gone too, rocking into him deeper than he thinks he can bear and they come together in a moment that leave Jensen's vision filled with white. The tidal wave continues far longer than it should and neither of them think they'll survive it but they do.
Their breathing calms and Jared pulls out of Jensen and lies down, body curled around him. They're going to wake up covered in come and mango and wonder what the fuck just happened but right now Jared really wants to lick that last bit of sugary trail off of Jensen's cheek so he does.
Series: RPS
Title: Mangoes
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: 18+/NC-17
Word Count: 3.947
Summary: Jensen starts a joke that involves leaving sticky messes of fruit residue where it will bother Jared most. Only neither of them are really laughing.
Monday is a peach.
Someone left the blinds open. Jensen really, really wants to blame Jared for this monstrosity. But Jensen remembers opening them to moon Jared, who had been mowing the lawn. He'll blame Jared any way.
That being said, there is no way Jensen can go back to sleep now. He rolls over to face the open window, closing his eyes against the bright morning light. He shifts, feeling the soft cotton linen against his bare thighs. Hands pressed under the pillows, he opens his eyes. Despite the warmth of the sun on his face, a chill runs down his back, gooseflesh rising. He looks up to his ceiling. The fan is on. He knows he wasn't the one who turned it on.
Happy to have something to blame Jared on, he slowly rises from his bed. He stretches out, sore muscles resisting and healed bones popping and slightly dry skin pulling. His stomach complains, it's a loud complaint that fills the room. Jensen will be happy to oblige.
His feet touch the cold floor and he's quick to make his way to the kitchen. Jensen gives a low, sure whistle, calling for the dogs. He's used to them greeting him every morning. But they don't come. Jared must have taken them somewhere.
The kitchen is warmer than his bedroom. Possibly remnants of heat left from whatever Jared made for breakfast. Jensen looks around for bacon, or eggs, or pancakes, or something, but there's nothing.
"Bastard," he mutters. He's too lazy to cook something himself. He opens the cupboards, looking for something easy to eat.
He closes them again. He doesn't feel like cereal. Or Poptarts. He licks his lips and checks the refrigerator. Jared had just bought fruit. The random assortment of fruits was hidden in a bag in the back. Hidden from Jensen.
"Perfect." He reaches for the bag, pulling out the top fruit. A peach. Jensen shrugs and puts the bag back, trying to situate it to look as if he hadn't just stolen part of its contents.
He goes to sit at the kitchen table. There are currently no placemats to protect the oak surface, so he places a folded up paper towel in front of his seat.
Biting into the fruit, the sweet smell curls into his nostrils and he chews the soft flesh. He's pretty sure the peach juice is dripping onto the table and he makes a half-assed attempt to mop it up with the paper towel, but he just spreads it around.
He's about half way to the pit when he hears Jared arrive. Actually, he hears the dogs first, their nails clacking on the tile floor before the front door closes quietly. Jared must think Jensen's still asleep.
"In here!" Jensen calls out around a mouthful of peach. "Not eating your fruit!"
The dogs come running to his voice. Jared comes clomping in after them. "That's okay, I hid them so you'd eat them. You're gonna get fa--" He stops. Jensen is mid-bite, the liquid seeping from the corner of his mouth spilling out onto his table. Jared swallows.
"You better clean that up. I don't want you to leave sticky messes all over the place."
Jared is standing over him now. Trying to look intimidating. Jensen turns in his chair and reaches up to smear his fingers across Jared's tee-shirt. His fingers linger. Intimidation failed.
Jensen starts chewing loudly, his mouth open to show the half masticated food. His sticky fingers tap on the back of the chair, making the awkward noise of flesh attaching itself only to be pulled away.
"You disgust me," Jared mutters. But he's smiling, turning around to hide the grin.
"You love me." Jensen turns back to his food, carefully eating around the pit.
"Don't leave your messes on my counters," Jared reminds him as he walks to the living room.
"What about your bed?" Jensen calls back.
"Creep! Stay out of my room! And clean up after yourself!" Jared's out of range now.
Jensen doesn't clean up.
---
Tuesday is a pear.
Jensen is in Jared's trailer, taking a break. The interior of the trailer is nice. Clean. Wood cabinets, big soft couch. Dogs sleeping on the floor. It has the air of a hotel room. Or a hotel room lobby. Jensen can't decide. But it's too clean.
Not sticky.
He's sitting at the tiny wood table, looking out the small window. Looking for Jared, whose scene should almost be done.
Jensen pulls the pear out of his coat pocket, its soft green skin slightly bruised from having made the journey in unprotected concealment. This time he doesn't bother with a napkin or paper towel. He quickly bites into the fruit. He didn't actually expect it to juice much, but then again he is not a connoisseur of fruits. It's enough for him to work with.
The pear juice is a bit airier than he would have thought. No. Airy is not the way to describe it. But it's lighter than the peach.
He eats messily. His mother would not be proud. After he has made a decent mess on the table, he goes to the refrigerator and grabs the handle, but does not pull. Next he touches the light switch. He continues on, walking around the trailer touching things with his sticky fingers, all the while eating his pear and leaving tiny droplets of juice on the floor.
Jared walks in on Jensen pulling on the cord attached to the ceiling fan.
"What are you doing?" he asks as he reaches for the refrigerator handle. He pulls back in disgust. "Ugh! Jen! Are you serious?"
Jensen smiles, swallowing the last bit of pear. "Welcome home honey."
Jared steps right up to Jensen, angry look on his face. But Jensen isn't buying it. Jared can't hide the glint of humor in his eyes.
Jensen smacks his lips together in Jared's face, having trouble repeatedly pulling them apart as they become stickier and stickier.
Jared raises his hand and for a second Jensen thinks he actually is angry. But his fingers soften and he reaches towards Jensen's face.
Jensen pulls back, confused, but Jared's arm reach is long and he catches Jensen's cheek. He smears the juice from Jensen's temple to jaw. Jensen is caught off guard but is quick to react, smearing his fingers against Jared's strong forearm.
This struggle turns into a wrestling match, the boys rolling around on the floor, rolling through the small trails of juice Jensen had left earlier. They knock over a chair, waking Harley. He barks and starts circling the two, excited by the match.
Jared ends up with his knee pressing into Jensen's chest, holding him down, arm across his collar bone. Jensen bends up awkwardly and licks Jared's arm, the sweetness of the pear on his tongue mixing with the salt of Jared's sweat.
Jared grunts and pulls back. "Dude, too far," he laughs. He rubs Jensen's saliva back on his own face before standing up, offering Jensen a hand up. Jensen took the offer and he was practically dragged up. Jared never realizes how strong he is.
They stand there for a moment, breathing heavily, sugar-coated fingers stuck together, dog running around their legs. Their eyes lock and the quickly take their hands apart, flesh pulling at flesh.
They go about their day as usual.
---
Wednesday is a plum.
There are four plums in the bag. The dark purple flesh calls to him. Jensen can't remember ever actually eating plums by themselves. He imagines the juices would stain.
It takes him a long while to think of where to eat them. The couch is black. That's no good. Jared's sheets are white. But that's too easy. Jared' favorite chair. It's tan. It's that weird soft, woven fabric that is just begging to be tainted. Jensen has never sat in it. Not that the chair is forbidden, just that it never occurred to him.
Jared is gone for a few hours. Jensen knows he has to savor this moment.
He carefully climbs into the large chair. Jared loves it because of its size. Jensen runs his hands against the fabric; it's soft and slightly fuzzy. His boxers ride up his thighs as he slings his legs over the armrest. It tickles the underside of his legs. He feels a tingly sensation run over his body. Jared loves this chair. And his butt is in it. His butt now feels a stronger connection to Jared's butt. Because this chair is magical. He feels warm and comforted and wonders if Jared has ever had sex in this chair. He wouldn't blame him.
He scratches himself and lets the plums fall from his arms into his lap. Picking one up, he turns the small fruit around once or twice before biting into it. It's tart. The plum is quick to bleed, reddish liquid seeping out and down his chin. He wipes his face against the headrest.
He quickly consumes the plums, not enjoying them as much as he hoped. When he is done, there are several reddish purple stains on the armrests and headrest.
He walks away with satisfaction.
But half an hour before Jared is scheduled to return, Jensen feels regret. Jensen's not supposed to feel guilty, but Jared loves that chair. He quickly locates the stain removers and tries his damndest to make the chair look normal again. The magical chair. He does a good job, if he says so himself. Especially since the lighting is low. Maybe he'll change out the bulbs for a lower wattage. Then Jared will never notice.
He beats a hasty retreat to his room when he hears Jared come up the drive. He sits on his bed pretending to read a magazine, carefully listening as he hears Jared enter the house, kick off his boots. He holds his breath as he listens to Jared go up to his room, probably changing into his sweats. Jensen has to remember how to breathe when the television in the living room turns on. He prays Jared chooses to sit on the couch.
Suddenly, Jared is in his doorway, and this magazine is extremely interesting.
"What's up?" Jared asks, leaning his large frame against the doorjamb.
"Oh, oh. Not much." Jensen turns the page. "How was your day?"
"Good, good." Jared nods. "We have to be on set early tomorrow, but they said we can leave early if we get all the shots done." Jared shifts from foot to foot. Jensen has to not look up because Jared's wearing those sweats that show off his package and that's just awkward to be caught noticing.
"That's good." He turns the pages again. "How early, though?" His fingers are sticking to the pages and he tears them a little.
"I know what you did."
Jensen looks up, a creepy, nervous smile on his lips. Jared won't be mad, he knows, but still. He doesn't want him to cry over it or something. "What're you talkin' about, man?" He gives a real smile, twinkles in his eye. He kind of likes that he was found out.
Jared walks into the room, standing at the edge of Jensen's bed. Jensen is about to speak again when Jared grins and grabs his upper arm, pulling him up and over his shoulder. Jensen feels a bit sick as Jared carries him into the living room, Jared's large shoulder pressing into his stomach. The plums are revolting.
Jared drops Jensen in his chair and Jensen immediately knows how Jared figured it out. The chair is still damp.
"Oh, well, I'll go get a towel then," Jensen says as he raises himself back up, but a large foot to the chest prevents him from moving.
"You are my towel," Jared says happily and moves to sit on top of Jensen. Jensen doesn't escape in time. Jared's body comes down, a heavy weight covering Jensen's legs and chest. Jensen isn't a small guy himself, so it doesn't hurt. But it's still awkward.
"Jared I don't have any pants on."
"Whose fault is that?" Jared asks as he flips on the TV. He leans back against Jared, shifting in to make himself more comfortable. Jensen tries to remove his arms from the armrests, but Jared's strong arms come down on top to prevent those from moving as well.
Jensen can smell Jared. He can smell his shampoo and his deodorant, layered over the scent of his sweat and skin and fabric softener. He can feel Jared's back muscles tense and relax against his chest. Jared's hair tickles Jensen's cheek, the little flips tracing circles.
"Jared. Jared get up. You're too warm."
Jared settles himself in deeper. Jensen starts to breathe heavily, his cheeks pinking. He really wants Jared to get up. But he really doesn't. Jared's hand is coarse and callused on top of his. Jared turns his head slightly to look back at Jensen, one of those half playful half devious smiles gracing his lips.
"Fuckin' perv," Jensen says, matching his smile. "You like this." He wiggles under Jared.
"Oh baby do it harder." Jared leans back so his head is resting on Jensen's shoulder, their cheeks pressed together, stubble scratching.
They stay like this for a long time. Long enough for both of them to get used to it. Long enough for both of them to forget this was a joke. Long enough to not notice Jensen had moved his left arm to rest partially across Jared's waist. Long enough for them to fall asleep.
Jared comes out of sleep first. He pretends he's tired enough to not notice both of Jensen's arms are now around him, nose buried into Jared's neck, soft, sleep-filled breaths ghosting down his back.
Jensen comes out of sleep next. Jared is gone.
---
Thursday is a nectarine.
They're on set way too early. Jensen has a crick in his neck because Jared hadn't had the decency to wake him up so that he might sleep in his own bed.
He eats the nectarine in his director's chair when they're both on break. It looked like a cross between an apple and a peach so he wasn't sure how juicy it would be. Everyone on set stares at him as he eats it, liquid sugar running down his chin and onto his Dean jeans. They're going to be pissed at him.
Jared keeps casting looks at him.
The only reason Jensen is eating the nectarine out in public is he's not sure he could control himself if Jared found him eating it in private.
He doesn't have the energy to smear his fingers on anything.
---
Friday is a mango.
It's eleven o'clock at night. Jensen is awake in bed, starved. He had spent the day getting thrown around by a demon and he wasn't allowed to eat in case it made him vomit or something. By the time he and Jared had arrived home he was too tired to eat, so he just crashed in bed.
Now he's regretting it. He pushes the covers off, sitting up. His vision goes a bit wonky, his body angry from the deprivation of food.
Suddenly he's in the kitchen, staring into the refrigerator, its light the only thing illuminating the otherwise dark room. He doesn't remember walking here. Maybe he fell asleep on the way. There's one fruit left. To be honest, Jensen isn't sure what it is. Again, he's not a connoisseur of fruit. He grabs the reddish yellowish orange oblong fruit out of the bag, leaving the empty plastic in the fridge.
He shuts the refrigerator door and leans against the counter. He smells the skin of the fruit. It smells like Jared. Like Jared after he's been running in the summer past the flowering bushes and the cut grass and has sweated through his thin tee and jumped through a sprinkler in some stranger's yard to cool off.
Jensen bites into the fruit. The skin is slightly bitter but the spongy flesh is sweet. He licks his lips, trying to prevent any of it escaping. A bit trickles down and he tries to wipe it away, but his fingers are already sticky and he really doesn't care anyway.
He's reached the pit and he's too busy devouring the delicious fruit to notice the lights turn on.
"Are you eating my mango?" Jared walks up to Jensen, leaning over him. He doesn't have a shirt on. He's wearing those pants again.
Jensen takes another bite. He chews for a moment before he looks up at Jared. He swallows. Slowly. Licks his lips, smearing the sugar around. He takes another bite, staring at Jared. "No," he says, around a mouth full of the mango.
Jared grabs his wrist, forcefully but not painfully, and watches Jensen swallow his last bite. He leans in close and breathes in the air around Jensen. He takes a bite of the mango still in Jensen's hand.
Jensen watches Jared chew, his mouth parted as he exhales sweetness. Jensen's not sure who moves first, but he blames Jared. Jared's always at fault.
The mango has been dropped to the floor and their sugar lips are pressed together in a sticky kiss. The kiss itself is not sweet and delicate like the taste. It's rough and quick and harsh and Jensen can't get enough. He presses his fingers to Jared's chest, to the grouping muscles just below his pecs.
Jared runs his sugared tongue across Jensen's bottom lip before slipping it inside. He pulls Jensen's hips into his and digs his fingers into the soft flesh there.
Jensen is still not sure what's going on. "What are we doing?" he breathes, clutching Jared's back now. He's probably leaving nail marks.
"You ate my mango," Jared says, as if that was a justifiable reason for this.
Jensen's head is fuzzy and his body tingles and everywhere Jared touches is hot and cold at the same time. He can feel himself growing hard. Jared's thigh is thick and firm and warm between his legs and he knows this should feel wrong but his dick is telling him otherwise.
Jared's large hands are everywhere all at once. He's rubbing nectar through Jensen's hair and he's pulling at Jensen's shirt and he's tugging on Jensen's boxers and he's spreading Jensen's thighs. Jensen can feel Jared's own hardness against his hip and he wants more.
Their lips and tongues are still fighting a battle they're winning and losing at the same time and those large hands are suddenly down Jensen's boxers. Jensen can't breathe. He forces Jared's pants down, freeing him. He brushes his fingers against the firm flesh when suddenly Jared takes both of them into his hand, their fingers interlocking around each other. The tender underside of Jensen's dick is rubbing against Jared's and oh god does Jared realize that's his weakness?
Jensen breaks the kiss, gasping. He has to look. He squeezes his own hand with Jared and just the heads are sticking out from the top, beads of precome collecting at both their tips. Jared's rough thumb sweeps over the droplets, smearing them together with the mango juice on his hands.
Jensen's knees give out because Jared's thumb just bumped that spot and now the only thing supporting him is Jared's thigh. He pulls Jared down to kiss him again, trying to gain some control and certainty.
"Jared this isn't going to be enough, is it?" he asks. He uses his other hand to grip Jared's hair. They're never going to wash this away.
"Nope," Jared says and suddenly Jensen is on the floor alone and where did Jared go and he's pretty sure there's a mango under his right shoulder blade.
Before Jensen has time to touch himself Jared is back again with something in his hand. Jensen knows what it is but he's pretending he doesn't. He's pulling his own boxers off before his shirt is even off and he's using his toes to pull on Jared's. Jared isn't wearing anything under his sweats. Jensen idly wonders if Jared is always walking around the house like that.
They're naked now and Jared's hands are pulling Jensen's knees up. Five minutes ago Jensen would have said there's no way he'd be this easy but right now he doesn't care. Jared's cock is big and bobbing up and down and Jensen reaches out again because it just looks inviting. Jared's hand matches up with Jensen's and Jared's fingers are already slick with what Jensen is trying to ignore and they give a few squeezes.
Then Jared's hand is gone again and Jensen can't see it anymore but he can feel it pressing into him. It's uncomfortable and foreign but it's Jared and he pushes down to match him. Jensen is shivering but not from the cold and there's something wet suddenly on his cock and he bucks up and Jared has to push him down so he isn't gagged.
Jared takes him in further and he presses another finger in. He runs his bottom lip against that spot and Jensen is sure Jared knows now because he's kissing and licking and there's another finger and they're pumping in and out and Jensen can't take any more. He wants to come when Jared's inside him so he pulls back and Jared obviously gets the message because he pulls Jensen's legs up.
Jared has the tip against Jensen and Jensen's not entirely sure but he presses down before Jared can press in. He's happy to know that this catches Jared off guard but he's too busy wincing to really care. Jared stays like that for a heartbeat, half in and half out before they can reassure themselves.
Then Jared moves his hips forward slowly, sliding in easier than he had expected and Jensen's toes curl. "Come on," Jensen says through his teeth. And Jared listens and he's pushing fully inside and neither of them can breathe but they're both panting.
Jared is rocking into Jensen slower and faster than they'd both like and his hand is back on Jensen's dick and Jensen has his hand on top of Jared's and they're touching everywhere together at once. Jensen props himself up on his elbow so he can watch Jared. Seeing Jared's dick moving in and out of him is too much and he can't look any more but he doesn't look away and he can tell Jared likes being watched because he's moving faster.
It's getting too much and Jensen really can't remember how to breathe or talk any more all he can remember how to do is squeeze his hand around Jared's more as they work each other into climax. It's coming too quickly and both of them close their eyes as they work faster, both of them feeling the anticipation. Jensen doesn't want to be first but then Jared says his name and it's too much to hear his name on those lips in this situation and he's over. The tight curls inside him release and he's gone over the edge and he tenses around Jared's dick and now Jared's gone too, rocking into him deeper than he thinks he can bear and they come together in a moment that leave Jensen's vision filled with white. The tidal wave continues far longer than it should and neither of them think they'll survive it but they do.
Their breathing calms and Jared pulls out of Jensen and lies down, body curled around him. They're going to wake up covered in come and mango and wonder what the fuck just happened but right now Jared really wants to lick that last bit of sugary trail off of Jensen's cheek so he does.