Under Center (a J2 fic)
Oct. 8th, 2010 03:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raeschaeTitle: Under Center
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raeschae
Wordcount: 2100
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Summary: Written fordeirdre_c’s Gonna Make You Sweat sports comment meme, using 13chapters’ prompt, J2. One of the boys is quarterback. One is center. That's a lot of time staring at someone's ass, is all I'm saying. I posted the first part at the meme and then added the porn today because I felt like it was a good day for porn.
The touch football game his family always plays in the backyard on Thanksgiving is a tradition from as far back as Jensen can remember.
They used to play for bragging rights, which was lame, so whoever suggested upping the ante was a damn genius, as far as he's concerned. For a few years now, the losers have been serving the winners the first round of his uncle's cedar-smoked turkey and his grandma's garlic mashed potatoes. As if the food isn't good enough on its own, having it served up by his scowling little sister makes it a thousand times better.
This year, though, they're in danger of being on the wrong side of the counter when the meal is ready in a few hours. Either his brother is getting slower in his old age or Jensen's sister-in-law should sign a pro contract as a free safety. Also, his nephew talks far too much trash for a six-year-old and there is no way he should have the skills to back it up; Jensen suspects performance enhancing drugs are to blame for that.
The biggest problem his team is having is in the middle. Bringing Jared home to spend a holiday with his family seemed like a great idea yesterday, before Jensen discovered that he can’t snap a ball to save his life. He loves the guy, but if he costs them this game there will be repercussions.
“You’re a terrible center,” he scowls as they jog toward the huddle together before the final drive of the game.
Jared huffs a sharp laugh. “Hey, excuse me for getting distracted every time you fondle my ass, Romo.” He smacks his arm and then cuts to the left to lift one of Jensen’s cousins into the air.
Alright, so maybe Jared has a point; it's possible Jensen has been putting a little more touch than necessary into this touch football game. In his defense, though, Jared has a really great ass. He keeps bending over, right there, lifting it to Jensen like some kind of tightly-wrapped present or something. All of the concentration he’s supposed to be putting into the game is instead going into keeping this afternoon G-rated in front of his family.
“Hey, uncle Jensen!” a high-pitched voice calls across the line of scrimmage a few minutes later.
Jensen looks up to find his nephew standing wide to the left side, hips swaying back and forth as he prepares to rush the passer. Disrespectful is what he is, Jensen thinks. “What?”
He grins, wide and toothy, before he says, “You gonna give me extra green bean casserole when you’re serving my dinner tonight?”
He's pretty sure his sister-in-law won’t buy him cool presents for Christmas if he knocks the kid's other front tooth out with the ball so Jensen says nothing, just takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to focus on visualizing the winning touchdown, with all of the glory and first dibs it will bring.
“Come on, Jen. One touchdown. That's all we need, man,” Jared encourages with the rest of the team, bending over to grab the ball.
He wants to win. Jensen really wants to throw a perfect spiral right down the middle, but there’s Jared’s ass again. It’s all round and firm and his jeans are pulling apart right at the corner of the pockets, so Jensen’s brain automatically goes to how easily he could just press his thumb there and tear them. That, in turn, leads to thinking about dropping to his knees, ripping the tattered jeans away and yanking Jared’s shorts down until his perfect little ass is exposed and begging for Jensen do to something, anything, to it.
What? It’s a totally logical progression of thought.
Clearing his throat, he blinks a few times to center his thoughts before he slots his cupped hands between Jared’s legs. Alright, so maybe he’s not supposed to innocently brush against his balls but with the direction his brain is going, they’re lucky it’s just a graze of his fingers. Jared rocks back onto Jensen’s wrist for the briefest moment and it should be so much harder to forget that his entire family is standing around the yard, watching him for the next play.
Absently, he smacks a hand against Jared’s hip to make him stop. Jared lurches forward so fast Jensen doesn’t have time to process what just happened. He’s just standing there, a little turned on and completely confused, when forty-two pounds of flying six-year-old knocks him to the ground, laughing hysterically.
“Who’s the man?” his nephew shouts, jumping back up with the football held over his head. “That’s right, I’m the man!” He proceeds to run around the backyard, making sure everyone knows that he just beat his daddy, his uncle Jensen, and Jared.
Jensen just lies on his back, blinking at the sky like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. “What the hell just happened?” he asks when Jared’s smiling mug appears in his eye line.
Helping him to his feet, Jared wraps an arm around his shoulder and nips at his earlobe. “I think that’s called capitalizing on an opportunity,” he teases. “You were distracted and he went for it.”
“Your ass just got me beat by a first grader.” It’s supposed to sound angry, possibly stern or authoritative, but even Jensen can admit he sounds more like a petulant child who just lost a round of kickball on the playground. In reality, it’s pretty much the same thing.
Stopping short, Jared leans against the deck and pulls Jensen forward by one of his belt loops. “So... what if my ass makes it up to you? Think we have time for that before we gotta serve up some dinner?”
Until that suggestion, Jensen thought that the family football game was the best Thanksgiving tradition ever. With a bright smile, he grabs a handful of the ass he’s been distracted by all day and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah. I think that can be arranged.”
Since he started dating Jared, Jensen's list of ‘Places I Will Never Have Sex’ has gotten a lot shorter. This, he reasons, is because Jared is very, very handsy and Jensen is very, very incapable of maintaining logical thought when Jared starts touching him. Still, he's always been pretty adamant, at least in his own head, about keeping ‘in my parents house while they are awake and walking around’ on the list. Thinking about his mother and grandmother peeling potatoes in the kitchen should help with that one.
It should at least make it easier to control himself when Jared starts shucking his clothes as soon as they close the guest bedroom door. He bends over the side of the bed to grab the lube out of his suitcase and, again, Jensen's brain blows a fuse. Next year, everyone is going to gather around the table to share a moment of silence in remembrance of Jensen, who can’t be with them because Jared’s ass killed him last Thanksgiving.
Jared smiles over his shoulder and stands, giving his dick a few lazy tugs. “You gonna do somethin' before dinner or should I just take care of this myself?” He falls back on the bed, legs splayed wide in a blatant invitation. “Cause I can put on a real good show, if that's the way you wanna play.”
His drawl is ridiculous - the wink he uses as punctuation even moreso - but Jensen is too distracted by the way Jared is tilting his hips and slicking his fingers to find any of it funny anymore.
He doesn't bother speaking as he pushes his own jeans over his hips, but he might whimper a little when Jared drags his fist down the length of his cock then lets his fingers lazily cup his balls while he leans back on his elbow. Jensen may also emit what could be considered a high-pitched whine when Jared meets his eye and grins like he knows exactly what he's doing.
“This what you were thinkin' about out there?” Jared's voice is low, quiet enough not to be heard outside the room but rough enough to send shock waves straight through Jensen’s chest. His dick bobs obscenely toward his belly, thick and wet, when he asks, “This is what you wanted when you were out there feelin' me up, isn't it?”
Regaining enough composure not to embarrass himself completely, Jensen shakes his head and clears his throat. “In my head, it was less of your fingers,” he explains, walking slowly toward the bed. “More of my tongue.”
He takes a twisted sense of satisfaction in the way Jared loses his balance, his shoulders crashing flat to the mattress. “Dammit,” he grunts, shifting further onto the bed.
Outside, he imagined holding onto Jared's hips and fucking into him while he was all bent over the ball. Now that he's all laid out here, though, Jensen's thoughts are shifting. Wordlessly, he straddles Jared's spread thighs and guides Jared's wet fingers to his own hole instead. “Open me up,” he says, hooking his heels behind Jared's legs for leverage while he wraps a hand around both of their cocks.
The friction is too much, not nearly enough, and they're both panting and growling by the time Jensen rolls them with a practiced ease. The bed creaks a little under their weight, but Jensen is beyond the point of caring. He tangles his hand in the back of Jared's hair and crushes their mouths together, biting down on Jared's lip while Jared’s hips push forward, stretching and filling him until Jensen has to laugh in lieu of shouting.
It feels so damn good that he wants to scream, but he's thankfully aware that it wouldn't be the best idea at the moment. Instead, he buries his face in Jared's shoulder, tightens his legs around his waist, tries like hell to keep his mouth shut. As awesome as Jared's ass is, his dick is so much better. He can't really be blamed for some of the deep, pornographic sounds that come out of his throat unbidden.
His orgasm hits without much warning, heat coiling his belly and springing suddenly. Jared clamps a hand over Jensen’s mouth and flinches when Jensen’s teeth sink into the meat of his palm. He’ll apologize for it later, when Jared’s not milking his cock with one giant hand and shoving the thumb of his other between Jensen’s lips. He feels like he’s flying apart while Jared is trying to hold him together and it’s so fucking hot Jensen’s sure he’ll burst into flames at any second.
Finally, when Jensen can open his eyes again, he sees Jared raise his hand – the one covered in Jensen’s come – and bites down as he jerks himself in a blur of frenetic motion. Jensen doesn’t even know where to look, what the hell he’s supposed to think about that visual, so he focuses on Jared’s eyes and tries not to pass out. Nobody is letting him out of serving Thanksgiving dinner just because his boyfriend fucked him into a coma.
Jared comes with a pained grunt, teeth digging into his hand hard enough to turn the skin white. When he’s done - and Jensen’s belly is streaked - Jared flops down hard enough to pound the head board against the wall.
“You’re gonna get us caught,” he accuses, smacking Jared with the back of his hand. After a beat of silence, he adds, “I played hard enough to warrant a shower, right? They won’t suspect.” He’s not really asking Jared so his snorted response is not so much appreciated. “Shut up. I worked twice as hard because you couldn’t keep the ball in your hands, Slippery Fingers.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jensen wishes he could stuff them back in again. “My fingers are slippery ‘cause they’re covered in your,-“
Jensen kisses him to stop him from making a terrible joke. Against Jared’s mouth, he murmurs, “Please don’t be a giant dork while we’re naked.”
Laughing, the kind of affectionate happiness that goes all the way to his eyes, Jared kisses him and whispers, “You love my dorky ass.”
All Jensen can do is watch as Jared rolls out of the bed and starts collecting his clothes. When he bends to grab his jeans, Jensen has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back another moan. Jared’s right, of course, but Jensen doesn’t really see where he can be blamed. Dorky or not, Jared has a great ass.
Author:
raeschaeWordcount: 2100
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Summary: Written for
deirdre_c’s Gonna Make You Sweat sports comment meme, using 13chapters’ prompt, J2. One of the boys is quarterback. One is center. That's a lot of time staring at someone's ass, is all I'm saying. I posted the first part at the meme and then added the porn today because I felt like it was a good day for porn.The touch football game his family always plays in the backyard on Thanksgiving is a tradition from as far back as Jensen can remember.
They used to play for bragging rights, which was lame, so whoever suggested upping the ante was a damn genius, as far as he's concerned. For a few years now, the losers have been serving the winners the first round of his uncle's cedar-smoked turkey and his grandma's garlic mashed potatoes. As if the food isn't good enough on its own, having it served up by his scowling little sister makes it a thousand times better.
This year, though, they're in danger of being on the wrong side of the counter when the meal is ready in a few hours. Either his brother is getting slower in his old age or Jensen's sister-in-law should sign a pro contract as a free safety. Also, his nephew talks far too much trash for a six-year-old and there is no way he should have the skills to back it up; Jensen suspects performance enhancing drugs are to blame for that.
The biggest problem his team is having is in the middle. Bringing Jared home to spend a holiday with his family seemed like a great idea yesterday, before Jensen discovered that he can’t snap a ball to save his life. He loves the guy, but if he costs them this game there will be repercussions.
“You’re a terrible center,” he scowls as they jog toward the huddle together before the final drive of the game.
Jared huffs a sharp laugh. “Hey, excuse me for getting distracted every time you fondle my ass, Romo.” He smacks his arm and then cuts to the left to lift one of Jensen’s cousins into the air.
Alright, so maybe Jared has a point; it's possible Jensen has been putting a little more touch than necessary into this touch football game. In his defense, though, Jared has a really great ass. He keeps bending over, right there, lifting it to Jensen like some kind of tightly-wrapped present or something. All of the concentration he’s supposed to be putting into the game is instead going into keeping this afternoon G-rated in front of his family.
“Hey, uncle Jensen!” a high-pitched voice calls across the line of scrimmage a few minutes later.
Jensen looks up to find his nephew standing wide to the left side, hips swaying back and forth as he prepares to rush the passer. Disrespectful is what he is, Jensen thinks. “What?”
He grins, wide and toothy, before he says, “You gonna give me extra green bean casserole when you’re serving my dinner tonight?”
He's pretty sure his sister-in-law won’t buy him cool presents for Christmas if he knocks the kid's other front tooth out with the ball so Jensen says nothing, just takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to focus on visualizing the winning touchdown, with all of the glory and first dibs it will bring.
“Come on, Jen. One touchdown. That's all we need, man,” Jared encourages with the rest of the team, bending over to grab the ball.
He wants to win. Jensen really wants to throw a perfect spiral right down the middle, but there’s Jared’s ass again. It’s all round and firm and his jeans are pulling apart right at the corner of the pockets, so Jensen’s brain automatically goes to how easily he could just press his thumb there and tear them. That, in turn, leads to thinking about dropping to his knees, ripping the tattered jeans away and yanking Jared’s shorts down until his perfect little ass is exposed and begging for Jensen do to something, anything, to it.
What? It’s a totally logical progression of thought.
Clearing his throat, he blinks a few times to center his thoughts before he slots his cupped hands between Jared’s legs. Alright, so maybe he’s not supposed to innocently brush against his balls but with the direction his brain is going, they’re lucky it’s just a graze of his fingers. Jared rocks back onto Jensen’s wrist for the briefest moment and it should be so much harder to forget that his entire family is standing around the yard, watching him for the next play.
Absently, he smacks a hand against Jared’s hip to make him stop. Jared lurches forward so fast Jensen doesn’t have time to process what just happened. He’s just standing there, a little turned on and completely confused, when forty-two pounds of flying six-year-old knocks him to the ground, laughing hysterically.
“Who’s the man?” his nephew shouts, jumping back up with the football held over his head. “That’s right, I’m the man!” He proceeds to run around the backyard, making sure everyone knows that he just beat his daddy, his uncle Jensen, and Jared.
Jensen just lies on his back, blinking at the sky like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. “What the hell just happened?” he asks when Jared’s smiling mug appears in his eye line.
Helping him to his feet, Jared wraps an arm around his shoulder and nips at his earlobe. “I think that’s called capitalizing on an opportunity,” he teases. “You were distracted and he went for it.”
“Your ass just got me beat by a first grader.” It’s supposed to sound angry, possibly stern or authoritative, but even Jensen can admit he sounds more like a petulant child who just lost a round of kickball on the playground. In reality, it’s pretty much the same thing.
Stopping short, Jared leans against the deck and pulls Jensen forward by one of his belt loops. “So... what if my ass makes it up to you? Think we have time for that before we gotta serve up some dinner?”
Until that suggestion, Jensen thought that the family football game was the best Thanksgiving tradition ever. With a bright smile, he grabs a handful of the ass he’s been distracted by all day and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah. I think that can be arranged.”
Since he started dating Jared, Jensen's list of ‘Places I Will Never Have Sex’ has gotten a lot shorter. This, he reasons, is because Jared is very, very handsy and Jensen is very, very incapable of maintaining logical thought when Jared starts touching him. Still, he's always been pretty adamant, at least in his own head, about keeping ‘in my parents house while they are awake and walking around’ on the list. Thinking about his mother and grandmother peeling potatoes in the kitchen should help with that one.
It should at least make it easier to control himself when Jared starts shucking his clothes as soon as they close the guest bedroom door. He bends over the side of the bed to grab the lube out of his suitcase and, again, Jensen's brain blows a fuse. Next year, everyone is going to gather around the table to share a moment of silence in remembrance of Jensen, who can’t be with them because Jared’s ass killed him last Thanksgiving.
Jared smiles over his shoulder and stands, giving his dick a few lazy tugs. “You gonna do somethin' before dinner or should I just take care of this myself?” He falls back on the bed, legs splayed wide in a blatant invitation. “Cause I can put on a real good show, if that's the way you wanna play.”
His drawl is ridiculous - the wink he uses as punctuation even moreso - but Jensen is too distracted by the way Jared is tilting his hips and slicking his fingers to find any of it funny anymore.
He doesn't bother speaking as he pushes his own jeans over his hips, but he might whimper a little when Jared drags his fist down the length of his cock then lets his fingers lazily cup his balls while he leans back on his elbow. Jensen may also emit what could be considered a high-pitched whine when Jared meets his eye and grins like he knows exactly what he's doing.
“This what you were thinkin' about out there?” Jared's voice is low, quiet enough not to be heard outside the room but rough enough to send shock waves straight through Jensen’s chest. His dick bobs obscenely toward his belly, thick and wet, when he asks, “This is what you wanted when you were out there feelin' me up, isn't it?”
Regaining enough composure not to embarrass himself completely, Jensen shakes his head and clears his throat. “In my head, it was less of your fingers,” he explains, walking slowly toward the bed. “More of my tongue.”
He takes a twisted sense of satisfaction in the way Jared loses his balance, his shoulders crashing flat to the mattress. “Dammit,” he grunts, shifting further onto the bed.
Outside, he imagined holding onto Jared's hips and fucking into him while he was all bent over the ball. Now that he's all laid out here, though, Jensen's thoughts are shifting. Wordlessly, he straddles Jared's spread thighs and guides Jared's wet fingers to his own hole instead. “Open me up,” he says, hooking his heels behind Jared's legs for leverage while he wraps a hand around both of their cocks.
The friction is too much, not nearly enough, and they're both panting and growling by the time Jensen rolls them with a practiced ease. The bed creaks a little under their weight, but Jensen is beyond the point of caring. He tangles his hand in the back of Jared's hair and crushes their mouths together, biting down on Jared's lip while Jared’s hips push forward, stretching and filling him until Jensen has to laugh in lieu of shouting.
It feels so damn good that he wants to scream, but he's thankfully aware that it wouldn't be the best idea at the moment. Instead, he buries his face in Jared's shoulder, tightens his legs around his waist, tries like hell to keep his mouth shut. As awesome as Jared's ass is, his dick is so much better. He can't really be blamed for some of the deep, pornographic sounds that come out of his throat unbidden.
His orgasm hits without much warning, heat coiling his belly and springing suddenly. Jared clamps a hand over Jensen’s mouth and flinches when Jensen’s teeth sink into the meat of his palm. He’ll apologize for it later, when Jared’s not milking his cock with one giant hand and shoving the thumb of his other between Jensen’s lips. He feels like he’s flying apart while Jared is trying to hold him together and it’s so fucking hot Jensen’s sure he’ll burst into flames at any second.
Finally, when Jensen can open his eyes again, he sees Jared raise his hand – the one covered in Jensen’s come – and bites down as he jerks himself in a blur of frenetic motion. Jensen doesn’t even know where to look, what the hell he’s supposed to think about that visual, so he focuses on Jared’s eyes and tries not to pass out. Nobody is letting him out of serving Thanksgiving dinner just because his boyfriend fucked him into a coma.
Jared comes with a pained grunt, teeth digging into his hand hard enough to turn the skin white. When he’s done - and Jensen’s belly is streaked - Jared flops down hard enough to pound the head board against the wall.
“You’re gonna get us caught,” he accuses, smacking Jared with the back of his hand. After a beat of silence, he adds, “I played hard enough to warrant a shower, right? They won’t suspect.” He’s not really asking Jared so his snorted response is not so much appreciated. “Shut up. I worked twice as hard because you couldn’t keep the ball in your hands, Slippery Fingers.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jensen wishes he could stuff them back in again. “My fingers are slippery ‘cause they’re covered in your,-“
Jensen kisses him to stop him from making a terrible joke. Against Jared’s mouth, he murmurs, “Please don’t be a giant dork while we’re naked.”
Laughing, the kind of affectionate happiness that goes all the way to his eyes, Jared kisses him and whispers, “You love my dorky ass.”
All Jensen can do is watch as Jared rolls out of the bed and starts collecting his clothes. When he bends to grab his jeans, Jensen has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back another moan. Jared’s right, of course, but Jensen doesn’t really see where he can be blamed. Dorky or not, Jared has a great ass.
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Date: 2010-10-09 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 12:35 am (UTC)