Hey Jealousy (a J2 OneShot)

[raeschae]

Title: Hey, Jealousy
Author: raeschae
Wordcount: 2500
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): J2

Summary: Jared is excited about his new mattress. Jensen is emo about the way Jared flirts with the delivery guy. Something's gotta give and Jensen's pretty sure it's going to be his sanity.

Notes: So yesterday I got a new mattress topper. Naturally, I thought about J2 pining and porn because of it.



“Man, you gotta check this thing out. Come here. Just put your hand there.”

Jared is the kind of guy who gets excited over new flavors of Gummie Bears and organic dog food. It's not surprising, exactly, when he drags Jensen into his bedroom to show off his new mattress but Jensen doesn't exactly feel the need to mimic his enthusiasm. It's not his bed, after all.

“Tell me that's not the coolest thing you've ever seen!” he demands with a laugh.

With every intention of telling him just that, Jensen pulls his hand back from the mattress and looks up. Jared is beaming, smile wide and eyes bright, and it's all Jensen can do to tear his eyes away and look back to the place where his hand print is fading in the memory foam. Something in his stomach – something he can damn well identify but refuses to acknowledge – is doing a nauseating flippy thing and he just knows Jared can see it on his face.

“Lie down,” Jared demands, flopping back onto his new mattress with all the vim and vigor of a nine-year-old on a sugar rush. “Dude, it's like, paradise.” His eyes flutter shut as he folds his arms behind his head and gives a wistful little sigh.

It probably is, especially with Jared lying there, so peaceful and happy. Instead of obliging Jared's request, though, he fidgets with his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight from one foot to the other before clearing his throat. “I've gotta get goin',” he says to nobody in particular and turns on his heel to flee before Jared can catch him blushing.

Jared's voice is following him out of the room but Jensen ignores it. He's not one to run away from his problems but Jensen just can't stand there and tell Jared that the only thing that would make that bed paradise is if they were tangled up in it together. That's stupid and flowery and not at all the kind of thing he should even be thinking, let alone saying out loud.

He grabs a sneaker from the floor beside his bed and is standing there with it in his hand, eyes searching for the other, when he hears Jared in the doorway. He freezes, shoulders tense and spine rigid, but he doesn't turn.

“You gonna be back for dinner?” is all Jared asks.

Jensen shrugs, eyes landing on his shoe, peeking out from under the corner of the bed. He needs to pick it up and get the hell out but he can't seem to make his feet move. It's stupid, being paralyzed by the mere presence of a guy he's lived with for more than a year, but knowing it and doing something about it are two different things.

When Jared says his name, it's soft and concerned. The tone of it seems to hit some kind of button in Jensen's mind, sending a message to his body that it's okay to move now. Surging forward fast enough to nearly trip over the foot of the bed, he grabs his shoe and flops down onto his own mattress. It reminds him immediately of Jared sprawled out on his own and Jensen has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from looking up.

He ties his sneakers blind and stands to run his hands over his thighs. Jared is still there, Jensen can feel him watching, but he doesn't say anything and Jensen doesn't bother acknowledging his presence. Jared doesn't do a great job of concealing his thoughts and emotions so whatever worry he's feeling is going to be written all over his face. Jensen can't deal with that right now.

He worries, just for a second, that Jared is going to block his way out of the room but he doesn't. He just steps aside and lets Jensen pass, continuing to watch him while he makes his way down the hall toward the kitchen. He can hear the click-clack of nails on the tile, knows that Sadie is at his heels, but he doesn't bother looking at her, either.

Writing 'be back before dinner' on the white board Jared hung on the refrigerator when Jensen moved in is second-nature. He doesn't think about how stupid it is until he's already out the door and backing his car out of the driveway. Jared was standing right there, specifically asked if Jensen was going to be back for dinner, and Jensen wrote it out like they're not speaking or something instead. What is wrong with him?

He's been fostering this … whatever this is for months now, since that night Jared worked sixteen hours and then brought Tim Horton's home for Jensen, who'd been sitting around on his ass doing nothing but a couple loads of laundry between naps all day. Jared shrugged it off like it was no big deal but Jensen can't remember anyone ever thinking of him in the simplest thing like that, outside of his family, and it meant something. He tried to believe that it didn't but lying to himself is getting harder all the time.

He's not even entirely sure why the breaking point came today. He's seen Jared lounging around the house too many times to count, often shirtless or in his underwear. Jensen has always been able to control himself, to play it off like it's nothing at all. There is nothing particularly special about today, nothing outrageous happened, outside of Jared's new mattress being delivered.

Directing the car off of the road and into the lot beside the park near their house, Jensen remembers the way one of the delivery guys joked and flirted openly with Jared. He was standing in the kitchen when they left, Jared following the guy and his partner down the hall, leaning against the door frame as the one turned back and slipped him a business card.

Jensen's chest clenches along with his fingers on the steering wheel. In his mind, he can clearly see the little white paper passing from the delivery guy's hand to Jared's and then from Jared's hand into the back pocket of his jeans. It's irrefutable, the jealous feeling in his throat, tightening and making it harder to breathe.

Now that it's been identified, the possessiveness spreads through him like water spilled on a table top, settling into every groove and corner. Naming it somehow gives it permission to breathe as though its some living thing that's sharing his body or something. He doesn't like it, has never been a jealous kind of guy even with the people he's actually dating, but it's taking up residence anyway. Unless Jensen can find a way for his sanity and his envy to co-habitate, things are going to get awkward and he's going to lose Jared completely.

Resolve steeled, he puts the car back into gear and drives to the house. It's easier to put his game face on when he's alone so he figures he'll be alright to act like everything's back to normal by the time he gets home. He's an actor, for crying out loud, he can do this. He's been doing it for months and Jared is none the wiser.

When he enters the house through the garage, his eye is drawn to the refrigerator. Beneath his note one in Jared's nearly illegible scrawl: Took the dogs for a walk. I'll bring food back later.

Everything he told himself in the car on the way home melts away in the solitude of the empty house. It shouldn't matter. He's been home alone hundreds of times. He knows how to grab a beer and turn on the television, or head back to his own room and read through some scripts. He knows how to spend a couple of hours without Jared being around, for goodness sake.

He thinks this is just because he was looking forward to seeing if he could quell these rising feelings for Jared but he knows he's just lying to himself. The truth is that it's just not the same when Jared's not around, even if he's in another room or the backyard or something.

His thoughts are moving faster than his feet but somehow they both end up at Jared's bedroom door. It's open, always open, but Jensen tries to tell himself that doesn't mean he should just go in and curl up on the new bed. He does it anyway.

Jared is right, the mattress is like paradise, bending and conforming to Jensen's body as he sinks into the memory foam and rests his head against one of Jared's innumerable pillows. He's not planning on falling asleep or anything but it's nice to relax for a minute. He didn't realize how much of this tension he'd been holding in his back and his shoulders but it all seems to melt away within a few minutes.

Predictably, Jensen does fall asleep and he doesn't wake up again until he feels the press of a body behind his on the bed. It doesn't dip, not like a normal mattress would, so he jumps a little in surprise and then relaxes back when Jared whispers, “It's just me,” against his ear.

For the briefest second, he lets himself believe that it's just a dream, leaning into Jared's hand on his shoulder and letting his eyes drift shut again. Pulling away, he sits up and wipes his hands over his face to clear the groggy, after-nap haze. “It's a good bed, man. You were right,” he chuckles but it falls flat and he knows that he's nowhere near selling the game like he wants to be.

Jared isn't trying to pretend that everything is okay, either, which is weird enough in itself. With the state Jensen has been in all day, it rubs against his raw nerves and makes him feel even more exposed and pathetic.

“Ja-,” he starts, though he's not sure what he's going to say.

Before he can push another word out, though, Jared's hand is cupping his chin and pulling him forward, lips pressing against Jensen's, warm and dry. His fingers are firm, sliding through Jensen's hair and around the back of his neck, when he pulls away and rests his forehead against Jensen's. “Tell me I'm outta line,” he breathes against Jensen's mouth, stealing another quick kiss before he smiles and then releases his hold.

Jensen can't. He doesn't even want to anymore. Instead, he falls forward, hands buried deep in Jared's hair, and kisses him so hard that their teeth clatter together audibly in the silence of the afternoon. Every jealous and possessive feeling that Jensen has been harboring today, for months now, amplifies and surges to take him over, to have this before Jared changes his mind or realizes the floodgate he's opened.

Though, if Jared's having second thoughts, it's hard to tell with the way he pushes Jensen onto his back and eases down over his body, his thigh pressed tight against Jensen's cock. Jensen doesn't mean to thrust up against the contact but his body is working independent of his brain and the groan Jared emits against his neck says that he doesn't mind.

“So fucking stupid,” Jared mumbles against Jensen collarbone before he lifts his head and crushes him with another kiss that draws a gasp from Jensen's throat. “Bought a damn bed for you,” he grunts, pulling on Jensen's zipper until his pants fall open. “Fucking ran away.”

Jensen manages to slide his arms down Jared's back, shove the waistband of his shorts down, before he arches into the feeling of Jared's hand wrapping around his cock and pulling it free of his jeans. “You didn't say,” he grunts, pushing his hips forward into the circle of Jared's long fingers, “either,” he adds, though it's a feeble, half-breath.

Biting down on his shoulder, Jared ruts against Jensen's bare hip, words incoherent against Jensen's skin. To be fair, Jensen's not making much more sense as he gropes at Jared's ass and pulls him closer, trying to get as much as he can in case he doesn't have another chance.

Every nerve ending, every cell, feels alive and awake when Jared pushes Jensen's pants down and his shirt up to his chest. Every touch makes him jerk and shudder and shiver like his body is coming out of hibernation. It hasn't been that long since he was in this position with someone else; it shouldn't feel like a new experience. It does, though. It's like Jared is ripping him open with every thrust and filling in the empty places with every groan and whimper against his neck.

It doesn't take long before Jared is burying his face in the bend of Jensen's neck, coming against him with of a whisper of his name that sends Jensen over the edge of his own sanity. His nails are digging into Jared's back, gripping to hold on for fear he might float right off the bed if he doesn't.

It's not until Jared rolls over and throws an arm over his eyes that Jensen starts to laugh. They make quite a pair; Jensen with his jeans open and his boxers pushed down, cock spent and hanging out while his tee shirt is rucked up to his armpits and Jared with his basketball shorts shoved down to his thighs, chest heaving while his fingers trail lazily through the sticky mess on his belly.

“Jared, I,” Jensen starts to say because it feels like one of them should say something. There should be a conversation or an explanation here.

“Told you it was a good bed,” Jared interrupts, lifting his arm to open one eye before he rolls his head in Jensen's direction.

Jensen huffs a chuckle but when he says, “You still have that delivery guy's number?” he surprises himself a little. It seems like the jealous monster in his chest should be satisfied right now.

Shifting onto his side, Jared throws his arm over Jensen's torso and tucks his hand under his hip. “Threw it out with the poop bag on our walk,” he answers, smiling that perfect, beaming smile when Jensen crinkles his nose. “Never really thought about keepin' it.”

Jensen sits enough to pull his tee shirt off and uses it to wipe his stomach before tossing it to Jared. He's not exactly sure how long he slept but it feels like he should probably get up and do something productive with his day, something other than acting like an insane, jealous lunatic.

Instead, he settles down against Jared's side and sighs when Jared gives him a knowing look. “What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “It's a good bed.”