TJ (a Disclaimer OneShot)

[raeschae]

Title: TJ
Author: raeschae
Wordcount: 2165
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jensen/Jared
Summary: After neglecting the important things in his life for way too long, Jensen takes a long weekend to make it up Jared.

Notes: This is a sequel to Priorities for wendy, who said, "Now...reunion in TJ next?"

Thanks to kiwiana for the super-quick beta. You rock my socks, bb!!




The first thing that Jensen notices when he eases his bike to a stop in front of the beach house in Tijuana is not its desperate need for a paint job. It's not the way the second step to the porch is still sagging because Jared's enthusiasm for carpentry crapped out after he built the deck a few years ago. It's not the way the sun dips low over the ocean behind the house, or the silence of the neighborhood around the secluded getaway spot.

He doesn't notice any of that other stuff because Jared is standing on the porch, dressed only in a loose-fitting pair of jeans with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his phone to his ear. Backlit by the living room light spilling through the open front door, his shoulders relax as Jensen approaches.

“Yep, just pulled up,” he's saying when Jensen climbs the stairs, standing just out of reach so he can appreciate the view for a second. He couldn’t give a fuck less about the ocean and the sunset and all that other poetic bull shit because - Jared. Just because Jared. “I don't know, man. He's kinda lookin' at me funny.”

Jensen flips him off, but lets his eyes drift over the sleeves of ink on his arms and the designs along his pecs and over his stomach. He smirks at the ones against his hips, half-hidden by the band of his underwear, and then imagines the way the tiger crouches against his right thigh and disappears beneath the leg of his boxer briefs. When he finally drags his eyes back up to Jared's face, his gaze snags on the dragon stretched over his collarbone and up the side of his neck. No matter how many pieces Jared has, that one will always be his favorite.

When he tunes back into the conversation, Jared is smirking in Jensen's direction. “You sure you're good? Alright, we'll give ya a call tomorrow.” He presses the screen of his phone and slides it into the pocket of his jeans. “You're early.”

Jensen should probably be embarrassed by how excited he was to leave Grind and get down here, but it's been awhile and Jensen is more ready than he thought he was to spend a weekend alone with Jared. Brayden is staying with Jordan, where Jordan's mom can keep a careful eye on their healing injuries from a fight they got into a week ago, and they have no other cares or worries. It's just like old times, as far as he's concerned.

“Julie and Jake have everything under control,” he shrugs, stepping forward to press his hands against the skater on Jared's left pec and the pisces on his right. “We gonna take this inside?”

With a slight tilt of his head, Jared rolls his shoulder and leads the way into the house. Jensen is just over the threshold when Jared turns on his heel and slams the door shut over Jensen's shoulder with both hands, effectively pinning Jensen in place. Jensen isn't complaining.

“Been dyin' to get you down here for months, man,” Jared growls, dipping his head to catch Jensen earlobe between his teeth.

Jensen's not used to being the speechless one between them, but he's having a hard time finding any words right now. “Gonna fuck you,” he manages, hands fumbling at Jared's belt without really considering the motion.

Pulling his hands away from the door, Jared sucks at the side of Jensen's neck and mimics his movements, opening his jeans as Jensen pushes Jared's over his hips and lets them pool to the floor. Jensen's pants are tighter, so Jared kicks his own out of the way and sinks to his knees, yanking Jensen's skinny jeans to the floor as he goes. He doesn't bother letting Jensen step out of them before he's leaning in, sucking at the head of Jensen's dick through his briefs.

Jensen's head thumps back against the door, tangling his hands in Jared's hair. “Fuckin' hell, man,” he groans when Jared's tongue laps at the fabric covering his dick. It's nowhere near enough to do anything more than get him hard, but it does that pretty damn fast. “Jesus, Jay, come on,” he adds, thrusting his hips forward.

Instead of doing what Jensen asks, Jared sits on back his heels while Jensen pulls his tee shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. “Thought you were gonna fuck me,” he challenges, leaning in to lay his tongue flat against the Jensen's stomach. With his hands firm on Jensen's hips, he stands and continues to lick a dirty trail over Jensen's abs. He grabs the platinum ring through Jensen's right nipple between his teeth and pulls until Jensen thinks he might just come in his pants.

“Asshole,” he flinches, pushing hard on Jared's shoulders until he stumbles back a couple of steps. He strips out of his briefs and gives Jared another shove in the direction of the couch. “You wanna get fucked?” Jared's eyes darken, his smile wicked. “Get over there.”

Jared does, backing up while his eyes rake over Jensen's naked body. Since the day that met, Jared's been leveling him with that gaze. Nobody has ever looked at him like Jared does, like Jensen is the only thing he wants to be looking at forever. It's sort of overwhelming, but also really fucking awesome.

“You gonna gimme that ass some time tonight?” he asks when it becomes obvious that Jared's not in a hurry to get this thing moving.

When he gets to the couch, Jared turns and reaches between the cushions, tossing a bottle of lube over his shoulder for Jensen to catch. With one knee on the couch, he leans over the side, arms folded to support himself on the wide arm. If either of them says they didn't buy this couch for times just like this, they are absolutely lying. Jared looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “You comin' or what?”

Jensen wishes he had the fortitude to drag this out, to tease Jared a little bit, but he's hard enough that walking hurts and Jared's got one foot out on the floor while the other knee presses into the cushions. There's no way he can resist that; there's no point in trying.

In the moment, he makes a snap decision. “Don't want you like that,” he says, sitting back on the center cushion and spreading his arms over the back of the sofa. “C'mere.” Jared stands and looks a little confused for a second. “Back to me,” Jensen answers the question he doesn't ask. Pulling Jared's briefs down around his thighs, he commands, “Bend,” and Jared does. When Jensen pops the lube and drizzles some over his fingers, he's surprised to find that Jared's hole is already slick. “D'you prep 'fore I got here?”

Over his shoulder, Jared throws a smirk. “Told you I wanna get fucked.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jensen seethes through clenched teeth, breathing through his nose for a second. If he tries to lube himself right now, it's all over before it has a chance to start. “What you fuckin' do to me.” He doesn't know if that's the beginning of a sentence or the end, but he doesn't really fucking care if he's making any sense at the moment.

Jared backs up a little, like he's ready to sit down, so Jensen steadies him with one hand on his hip, the fingers of his other hand teasing over and around the slick rim of his hole. “Fuck, Jen, come on,” Jared begs, pushing back. Jensen's too busy watching the curve of his ass and the way his thigh muscles strain to pay attention to the pleading. “Man, you got three seconds 'fore I sit on your cock and fuck my damn self.”

Leaning back, Jensen grabs both of Jared's hips and says, “Do it,” in a low, commanding voice. Well, it's low and commanding in his head. Out loud, it sounds more strangled and out of control. It doesn't matter once Jared starts lowering himself on Jensen's dick, breathing shallow while Jensen guides him. “Fuck, yeah,” Jensen grits through clenched teeth. He'll be lucky if this lasts more than two minutes.

For a second, Jared leans back, head rolling against Jensen's shoulder while he catches his breath. Jensen would normally try to reduce him to an incoherent heap with a string of the filthiest encouragement he can imagine, but words don't seem that important right now. Instead, he brings one hand up to grip Jared's chin and turn his face away, giving himself room to bite the column of Jared's neck and then trace the marks of his teeth with long swipes of his tongue.

Turns out, Jared wasn't kidding. It doesn't take long before he leans forward, muscles in his arms and back rolling and bulging when he starts riding Jensen hard. Jensen reaches out, fingers digging in and dragging up the taut striation of his thigh. “Fuck,” Jared groans, dragging the word out like he can't quite finish it.

Jensen wishes that he could keep this up forever, just stay here fucking into Jared for the rest of the night, but the position isn't ideal for guys their size. Pulling back on Jared's hips like reins, he bites into the curve of Jared's shoulder and says, “Gotta move.”

With only a soft grunt, Jared allows himself to be manhandled over the arm of the couch, Jensen positioned behind him with one knee on the couch and one foot on the floor. Holding him steady, Jensen slams into him hard enough to make Jared lurch forward. “Jesus Christ, Jay.”

Jared was right when he said that Jensen was working too much – it has been far too long since he let himself forget everything except the feeling of Jared surrounding him. It's not just about the sex; it's about connecting with Jared like he doesn't with anyone else.

It takes a second for them to find the rhythm, the only sounds in the living room the grunting and slapping of sweat-soaked skin as Jensen's hips relentlessly pound against Jared, his hand smacking against the round swell of his ass now and then. Occasionally, Jared will beg him to do it again, and Jensen will just chuckle to himself as he complies, but they're otherwise wordless. This conversation is complete without speaking.

Reaching around, Jensen takes Jared's cock in a tight fist, jerking it in sync with the thrust of his hips only a couple of times before Jared is cursing everything and coming all over Jensen's hand, the couch beneath him, and his own stomach. When he collapses to the cushions, too worn to hold himself up, Jensen stumbles and barely manages to catch his own balance before he falls on top of Jared.

“Ah, fuck,” he curses, giving a few brutal tugs to his own dick until he comes thick and sloppy against chin of the tiger face that now covers Jared's entire back.

Flopping back against the other arm of the couch, Jensen fights to catch his breath while Jared collects himself and stands, one hand on his belly and the other reaching to feel the sticky mess at the small of his back. “God dammit, Jensen,” he huffs, pulling his hands away and turning to shoot an irritated look Jensen's direction.

With a sleepy grin, Jensen gives a half-hearted shrug and can't help smiling. “Sorry.” He's not. It doesn't sound like he is, either.

The scowl doesn't last long, Jared's dimples surfacing even as he tries to fight the grin. “You eat yet?”

Jensen rolls his head against the back of the couch but makes no effort to move any further. “Jesus, you're hot,” he says, more to himself than Jared. It's not what he meant to say, but some time over the last few weeks, he forgot to notice. It seems like a really stupid oversight now that Jared is standing here, covered in ink, sweat and come.

Humming in interest under his breath, Jared bends over Jensen's supine form and kisses him slow. He moves his lips to Jensen's ear and says, “You clean the couch, I'll clean me, and we'll reconvene in the bedroom. Deal?”

With a raise of his eyebrow, Jensen leans back a little to catch Jared's eye. “Reconvene?” He chuckles as he makes his way to his feet, legs still a little wobbly. “Man, I did not fuck you hard enough if you're still usin' fuckin' three-syllable words.”

Jared just shakes his head as he turns to leave the room. “Guess you're gonna have to try harder next time, huh?”

Comments

[comet91.livejournal.com]

That was hot!

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Thank you!