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Got That Kind of Medicine

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Jared's got the biggest dick.

Of course, before this thing ever started between them, Jensen had known, and before he had known, he had suspected. Jared was tall, tall, tall and had the exuberant confidence that men who aren't packing just don't have. Jensen had skated his eyes over his co-star's crotch enough times, sneaked a peak in urinals enough times, to know there was serious inches packed away in those sports-bra-for-your-dick underwear.

Then, he had resented it a little, that Jared was bigger than him in one more way. Resented it enough to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about it, settling himself with the assumption that Jared had to be a shower, not a grower like Jensen himself. Jensen figured they'd be the same size erect. Nature had a balance like that.

Then one day he'd gone into Jared's trailer without knocking—he never knocks, Jared said he doesn't have to knock—to go over some lines. It took two steps and a look to the left to find himself with the image of Jared's hard cock burned into his retinas, his brain.

Jared made a strangled noise and took the hand off his cock—his thick long veiny cock, goddamn pornstar dick—to scrabble for a pillow and press it into his lap, red and mortified and stammering.

Jensen had answered in his own stammers and far too calmly stepped out of the trailer and closed the door. He walked until he found a secluded spot on the edge of their location and let out a deep breath. His face was so red he could feel the heat, and his whole body had been a tingling, jumpy mess.

"Oh God," he had said. He knew he should've felt embarrassed, second-hand humiliation for Jared, but the image of Jared's cock had plastered itself on every available spot in Jensen's mind. Huge. Huge, it was fucking huge. Looked big even in Jared's large hand.

Jensen stared wide-eyed into nothing, trembled. Dean's jeans were tight, suffocated his cock which had sometime between seeing Jared's dick and ending up here had decided it was the number one fan of dicks bigger than itself.

A month later, with the catalyst of Jensen setting his eyes on Jared's dick, Jared and Jensen officially became a thing. Jensen's still hazy on how they fell into that. The first week was all awkward neck-scratches and no eye contact before they got past their embarrassment, starting talking again and the event became something they made inside jokes of.

The following weeks were just that side of normal, and then one night they were kissing, and then it moved really fast, like two stallions that had been behind the starting gate for three years before getting to race.

Kissing loped to third base in the span of forty-eight hours, and they went for broke to get home. Jared's cock had scared Jensen, just a little, but Internet videos let him know if a guy could get two big dicks up his ass, Jensen could sure as hell fit Jared's one.

Anything was possible with lube.

So when season three got cut short and left them both with unexpected time off, Jensen used his credit card to order a gallon of something called Wet that comes in a pump dispenser. He didn't think they'd need that much, but if all went well the first time, fucking would replace video games as their favorite pastime and all the informative websites had emphasized to use a lot of lube.

So Jensen got Jared's cock in him on Jared's bed, in Jared's room, while it was overcast outside and the phone rang downstairs more than once. But fuck if it wasn't damn near perfect. Having Jared in him was an overwhelming experience, hands sticky with remnants of lube planted on Jared's chest and squeezing, Jared's own slippery fingers wrapped tight around his hips, and when he had finally seated himself and felt blissfully fullfullfull, he had groaned low and deep like an animal.

Jared had felt so big inside him, like if his cock got any longer it'd push against Jensen's tonsils. And it felt good, utterly decadent. When the initial sting and discomfort had passed, Jensen had felt his eyes prick with tears at the shivery, deep pleasure.

Neither lasted long that time. Jensen lost it on the fourth time coming down on Jared's dick and Jared had left pretty bruises on Jensen's hips when he came moments later.

And then Jensen had let himself fall onto Jared's chest and they both just dozed off.

Many fucks later and they had moved out of the duplex and into a nice, big house, spent the weeks following christening every sturdy enough inch of their new place.

They fuck a lot. Jensen's pretty sure they fuck more than normal people do.

When they're in the midst of season four and only have ten minutes before being called to set, Jensen's sticking his hand in Jared's jeans and jacking him off. They go together on bathroom breaks so they can rut together in the stalls, Jared's hand over Jensen's mouth to keep him quiet.

None of the past experiences Jensen's had in any way match up to Jared—the man can fuck, fuck, and keep on fucking as long as Jensen wants and even after he doesn't. Their sexual appetites feed off each other, ratcheting them up higher and higher.

Jensen reaches his arms up and back to pull roughly on Jared's hair, spreading his knees wider on the couch. "Fuck me harder, you fucking—"

Jared's nails grip his sweat-slicked sides, hurting so good. He snarls out an incomprehensible series of words and jams up inside punishingly, so thick and long, like a punch and it makes all breath leave Jensen's lungs. Jensen fists his hands tighter in Jared's hair, and Jared bites him on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise.

On screen, Tony Romo gets sacked. "That bitch," Jared hisses. His hand grabs Jensen's cock and tugs it like it's his fault. Jensen's eyes leave the game to roll up to the ceiling, head lolling back on Jared's flexing shoulder.

He pants softly as Jared fucks him, feeling delightfully full on the thrust in and achingly empty on the pull out. The alternating sensations make him feel like he's gonna go insane. "Oh God I don't wanna stop," Jensen moans deliriously. His toes are curled up tight enough to make his calves ache.

"'m not gonna."

"You fuckin' better not," Jensen tells him, voice slipping into a higher register. He almost wants Jared's hand off his dick, because he doesn't know which way to push—forward, back, up or down. He wants to get away from it as much as he wants to fucking drown himself in it.

The TV gets louder as the stadium roars, and Jensen doesn't have to open his eyes to see what happened because Jared's leaning forward, leaning both of them forward, and hoarsely yelling, "interception!"

The new angle causes Jared's cock to jolt up in a way it never has before, and Jensen jerks in the cage of his arms, hard enough to make them tip back on the couch again. Jensen yells as he comes, back curling in an arch, come spitting out of his dick and hitting the coffee table.

"Jen," Jared groans from the deepest part of his lungs as Jensen clenches around him, his arms painful bands around Jensen's waist. Jensen pants as he feels Jared thrust up once, twice, and then buries himself deep and gasps so-good-I'm-dying-from-it staccato breaths as he comes.

When Jensen opens his eyes again, the Cowboys are at their own twenty-yard line. Jensen watches the next play get nowhere, then it cuts to commercials. Jared's kissing his neck, hands smoothing all over him, his chest, belly, thighs. Jensen relaxes so much he can't even feel his body except for the points of pleasure from Jared's wandering palms and of course, Jared's cock still inside.

Jensen squirms on said cock with a pleased laugh. It's lost a bit of fullness as it's gone soft, but Jensen still feels stuffed with it, and he loves the sensation. Loves it more than a person has a right to. Loves being filled, loves Jared inside him, loves how intimate the feeling is now there's not the urge to rut and get off. Just him and Jared content and connected in the most primitive way.

Jared's caresses stop as he grips Jensen's hips. "Okay," he says breathlessly, and lifts Jensen up and off before Jensen can engage his muscles to keep himself seated.

"No," Jensen protests, fucking whines like a five-year-old whose candy's gotten taken away. His hips press right back down but he's not able to get Jared's cock back inside because it's no longer vertical.

"Jen?"

"Want it back in." Jensen feels unbearably empty, can feel Jared's come leaking out, and that's no good.

"I think little Jared's tuckered, man," Jared wheezes, because he's laughing so hard, either at Jensen or the car insurance commercial on TV. Probably both.

"Jared," Jensen says through his teeth, "put it back in."

Jared's hand feels over Jensen's own limp cock. "You're out too. Hop off me and let's finish the game, huh?"

Jensen's gonna have to do this himself. With a degree of difficulty he turns around on Jared's lap, knees sliding wide on the leather couch. Cheek pressed into Jared's hair, Jensen reaches between them and pulls up his co-star's soft cock to position it, then sinks down with a grateful sigh.

"Jensen!" Jared squawks into his collarbone, then his body shakes with more laughter. His cock slips out. Jensen could cry.

Letting out a frustrated hum, Jensen grabs him again none-too-gently and works himself down. "Stop laughing, you're messin' it up. Jared."

"Touchdown!" The announcer screams on the TV behind Jensen, making him jump, making Jared bounce up.

Jensen just barely wraps his legs around him in time and saves himself from tumbling into the coffee table and splitting his head open. "Jay!"

"We won!" Jared shouts, twirling around like there's not a hundred and eighty pounds of very pissed Jensen clinging to him. "Playoffs baby! Super Bowl."

Jensen's thigh slips down Jared's hip, but before his foot can touch down on safe flooring Jared hikes him up higher and spins them out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Jensen thinks he's just being aimless overly-excited Jared until the other man drops him onto the table, grabs under his knees to pull them part, and then Jensen grunts as what feels like miles of cock fills him up all at once.

Well shit. Jensen's putting Tony Romo in his will.

Jared hums what sounds like his ringtone as he fucks and laughs every few seconds. Jensen just manages to bite off his moans and hold onto the table because Jared fucks like everything else he does in life, passionate and hopelessly giving and yeah, Jensen fuckin' loves him.

Jared drops Jensen's knees and leans over him, planting his hands on the inches of granite not covered by the breadth of Jensen's shoulders. "Want me to stay in this time?"

Jensen nods, chest growing warm; Jared always knows just what he wants, and doesn't ask any questions. His mouth drops open and he pants ragged wheezes of air, digging his heels under Jared's ass. "'m gonna go fuckin' nuts," Jensen slurs.

Jared chuckles, digs himself in deep. "What?"

"You—your dick's so fuckin' big, you know that? 's fuckin' perfect, it's—it's—man, I don't even know how to handle it. Wanna keep it in me forever."

"Wanna be inside you forever," Jared returns, "I would never, ever leave."

Those are fucking song lyrics to something dumb and full of sap and Jensen laughs helplessly, then comes. Seizes on the table and feels like he slips out of himself and starts pooling onto the floor in a shouting mess.

He gets the vague impression of Jared's fingernails pinching the skin of his hips, his body jerking up the table with Jared's last few thrusts, and then Jared's still and breathing loudly.

"Good God."

Jensen peels his eyes open, works his hips a little to feel Jared's dick. Jared's breath hitches while he looks down at Jensen, hot drops of sweat running down his corded arms and falling on Jensen's skin. Jensen can feel a trickle of come slide down his crack, sees his own come splattered up his torso and Jared's.

"C'mon," Jared says, hooking his arms under Jensen's.

"Bed?" Jensen hugs his shoulders. The world tilts when Jared lifts him once more and Jensen tries not to get too dizzy.

Jared hums, walks them into their bedroom, cock still hard enough to stay in. He lowers them onto the bed careful and slow, because he's making sure he keeps them connected, and Jensen gets pleasantly hot all over again.

"All right." Jared rolls over, settling Jensen's back on his front. Jensen stretches out on him, draping a leg over Jared's bent knee.

"'m gonna crush ya."

"Yeah right," Jared says, joining his right hand to Jensen's and lifting it. "Look at you compared to me."

Jensen purses his lips at Jared's muscled veiny forearm compared to his own smooth one, the larger palm and longer fingers. "You're not that bigger."

"Yes I am," Jared teases with a whispery voice in Jensen's ear, putting their joined hands on Jensen's spent dick. "I'm bigger everywhere."

"Hmph." Jensen takes their hands off his over-sensitive cock and moves them up his chest, lets them rest over his heart. "We going to sleep like this?"

"Sure. If you want."

Jensen closes his eyes and nods against Jared's chest. With Jared in him, he feels utterly relaxed, lighter than air. Comfortably full.

"You're making dinner," Jensen tells him, because Jared's in a generous mood today and Jensen likes his cooking more than his own.

"Orderin' in," Jared mutters back, but he wraps his arm around his waist securely. "'cause you wore me out."

"No such thing," Jensen chuckles.

There isn't. When they wake up six hours later in the dark of the evening, Jared's hard inside him, rolls them over to drag himself in and out while Jensen worries the sheets between his teeth and squirms.

***


"Are you all right?" Jared asks him over dinner a week later, because he's attentive and there's no way Jensen's squirming is gonna go unnoticed. Jensen forks more steak into his mouth and nods, tries to tell himself to get a damn grip because this urge in him now, it's just getting outrageous. Life-interfering outrageous. Like an addiction.

"Sure am," he says, smiling his actor-smile, tries to think about the food on his fork and not Jared's lower body hidden under the table cloth, jeans stretched over long legs and the bulge of his crotch—obscene, obscene and Jensen's told him those jeans make him nuts. Even compressed by the fancy shorts he wears, Jared's package looks like it's just gonna split those two-hundred dollar jeans like paper.

Jensen's hand shakes. He gets more mashed potatoes on his chin than he does in his mouth as he drowns in sense-memory of how that cock feels in his ass. He curls his ankles around the chair legs and flattens his hips again. He feels so damn empty and hollowed out, hungry and they already fucked several times today and Jared stayed in as long as he could but God, if Jensen could have that dick twenty-four seven—

"Jen."

And Jared's hands, Jesus. Jensen can feel them on his hips, hot and big and encompassing like he could fall apart in those hands and Jared would be able to hold all his pieces together. Jensen can feel those long fingers pressing inside, bending to press over his spot, preparing him to take his dick; turning and wriggling and stretching, rough or gentle depending on what Jensen wants.

"Jensen."

And fuck, Jared's shoulders. Made for Jensen's legs to be thrown over. Arms made for wrapping him up tight, supporting him up against walls. Jared's so damn big, all over, and isn't that Jensen's favorite part? Always has been, since Jared stood up and loomed over him, stuck out his giant hand and said, "Hi, I'm Jared Padalecki," and Jensen was fucking sold.

He was gone.

Jared's staring at him. Jensen blinks several times as he's brought from his thoughts back into the present. He clears his throat and forks a bunch of green beans. "What?"

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jared asks, fond-faced, gorgeous in the low warm light.

Heat surges through Jensen. He nods. "Mm." He takes a drink of his water and slides a napkin across his mouth before he stands up and starts undoing his pants' button. "Wanna fuck."

Jared's eyebrows shoot up. "Now?" But he's down for it; already scooting his chair back, fingers starting on his fly. God, Jensen loves him.

"Yeah, now. Need you in me." And ain't that the truth, so his voice comes out hoarse and vulnerable and he hates it. Swallowing thickly, he hops out of his chinos, shirttails fluttering over his naked thighs and his naked cock; he hasn't worn underwear all week.

When he looks at him, Jared has his jeans pulled to mid-thigh, and Jensen licks his lips as Jared pulls down his black boxer-briefs and his cock clears the waistband, jumping up in victory. It's beautiful, thick and long, and it's all for Jensen.

So he has to slink over to Jared, has to get on his knees, has to lick a wide stripe up the veiny underside, then cup the head in his mouth when he gets to it. Jared breathes out loudly, hands moving to touch him, but Jensen's a tease; flicks the crown with his tongue-tip then pulls his lips off. He rucks up Jared's shirt and licks his happy trail, swirls his tongue inside his belly button and nips it, then continues up, up, till he's dragging his tongue along Jared's neck and chin, slipping inside his mouth.

Jared groans, hot hands grabbing under his ass and pulling him in until Jensen's in his lap, starts roughing up the kiss a little. Soon as he does, Jensen tears his mouth away and presses gentle, sucking kisses across Jared's cheeks and temples instead, wordlessly telling him how he wants this to go.

Jared just breathes softly, lips curling up when Jensen kisses his eyelids. He rubs up Jensen's back, over the shirt then under, hot spreads of warmth on either side of Jensen's spine.

"Put your cock in me," Jensen whispers against Jared's eyebrow, then bites his lip; there's a desperation in his voice that he hopes Jared doesn't pick up, won't realize how needy he is for it.

Jared says, "yeah," and grips his hips tight, lifts him up and close then starts dropping him, slow slow slow.

Jensen feels Jared's cock hit his rim and grumbles when Jared tightens his hands, not letting him sink down on it. "What?" he snaps.

"D'you..." Jared tugs him in and back, letting his cockhead rub across Jensen's hole. "You lubed up already?"

Jensen swallows, insides knotting in embarrassment. "Yeah," he says quietly.

Jared just kisses his throat, lets Jensen feel the way his lips curve into a playful smile. "Did you do a good job?"

Jensen wiggles in his hold, trying to push his hips down. "Sure did," he says, then lower, "got off with just my fingers up my ass."

Jared makes a rough noise. "Somebody call 911—I've just been shot. In the cock." He laughs quietly and brings Jensen down onto his dick. The head pushes at, then pushes inside his hole and Jensen closes his eyes, sighing as he's filled up. Feels so damn good he might cry from it.

"Wait, hold the phone. I might be all right," Jared teases when Jensen's taken him all the way in. He gives Jensen's hips a you did good pat and Jensen has to chuckle a little.

Jared sighs and leans back in the chair so he can look at Jensen perched in his lap. "So this is what you were squirming about? You wanted to sit on my dick instead of the chair?"

Jensen looks back. "Yeah."

Jared blinks, cat-like. "I am more than okay with that. You want to move? Or me to move...?"

"Not... not yet," Jensen says, toes curling where his heels are hooked around the chair legs. God, it's fantastic having Jared inside him, like a damn religious experience, seems to get better everytime they fuck. He can't stop himself from clenching around the cock inside him, just to feel it that much more, to remind himself how he's stretched so perfect.

"Fuck," he says, hands petting Jared's shoulders, eyes shut again. "You know how fuckin' amazing you feel? You're so damn big, Jay. Big and thick... 'n hot." His accent's unwrapping.

So is Jared's when he says, "aw, Jen. You feel pretty amazin' too," and starts unbuttoning his shirt, kissing the skin as it's exposed. "An' I love you, much as anything. I wanna give you whatever you want. You want my dick, it's all yours."

"That's..." Jensen trails off as Jared's distracting lips suck on his skin, moving from his sternum to his nipple and taking it in his mouth. Jensen breathes out, hips shifting forward a little; he's so hard, already on the edge, but he doesn't want to lift up, doesn't want any of that fullness taken away.

"'cause you look so pretty on it," Jared continues. He's always got more to say, especially when Jensen can't speak himself. He leans back and slides his hands over Jensen's shoulders, and the shirt lets go to fall around Jensen's ass. He sucks a nipple and holds Jensen's hips, hands moving inward, and Jensen's expecting it, but the first graze of Jared's palms on his sensitive cock makes him jolt and swear. His hips lurch forward, cutting his hipbones into Jared's, pushing Jared's cock right against that spot inside, and Jensen grabs the back of the chair as he comes, wide-eyed with his vision blurring away.

When he can hear again, Jared's saying, "hey Jen, turn around."

"You gonna stay inside me?" Jensen mumbles into his skin.

"Yep. But I gotta finish eating."

And so Jensen, with Jared's help, gets himself facing forward, and holds Jared's plate for him and lolls his head back on his shoulder, listens to the scrape of the fork and Jared chewing. "Don't you wanna come?" Jensen asks after a listless few minutes.

"I might get too soft to stay in," Jared says. "Hey, pass me my glass."

Jensen holds the plate in one hand and reaches the other for Jared's sweating cup of ice water. Jared takes it with the hand not holding his fork and Jensen listens to the gulp of Jared's throat as he drinks. Jensen settles back heavier on his chest, legs widening to stretch his thighs out before he relaxes those too. And God, it's, it's so perfect, sitting in Jared's lap, feeling his heartbeat on his shoulder blade, having Jared inside him, listening to him eat and all Jensen has to do is sit and hold the plate and cup.

Jensen's eyes ache and his throat pinches closed. His heart leaks behind his ribs. He turns his hand over to rub the underside of Jared's wrist, feeling the tendons work as Jared stabs his fork into a bunch of green beans. There's the soft cotton of Jared's t-shirt on his naked back, the rough texture of Jared's jeans under his thighs, against his feet when he curls them around Jared's calves. Everything else they've done pales compared to this, this extreme intimacy and damn, it's nearly too much.

Jared drops his fork and reaches up to slide his hand across Jensen's wet cheeks, doesn't ask why he's crying because he doesn't need to.

He just knows.

***


Maybe Jensen's getting worse. Anytime he and Jared are sitting down, he feels empty and bereft. Eventually has to climb into Jared's lap and fill himself up, calm the anxiety he feels without Jared in him, because that's what it is. He gets so anxious and hollowed out, until he's breathing fast and his bones are vibrating with the need to just connect them together and have Jared inside and against him, feel his heartbeat, feel his lungs get big and their ribs fight when they both take deep inhales.

And it's perfect while they're at home—Jensen can take his seat in Jared's lap while they watch movies, can have his dick inside him while they eat or do crossword puzzles or while Jared listens to Ten for the fiftieth time on their stereo and sings along in Jensen's ear and pulls his dick to the beat.

But there's filming coming up, there's conventions coming up, and Jensen's insides gnash and fold into origami figures when he realizes they won't be able to keep doing this because they're gonna be busy, they're gonna be tired and he should try quitting this addiction while they still have days off.

Or maybe he should get his fill while he still has the chance. That seems to be Jared's idea.

"God, I love. You. Jen," Jared says into his ear, speaking with the cadence of his thrusts. He's draped hot and heavy over Jensen's back, driving that big cock in and out, in and out. Doesn't know the meaning of shallow fucking; just deep, all the way out, all the way in lunges. Jensen grunts into the bedspread with each one, caught in a loop of trying to get air in his lungs on the pull out, only to lose it all on the punch in.

Jared's choking him with sex.

Even though it makes him light-headed and overwhelmed, this is Jensen's favorite position. Hits all those places inside just right, and he feels safe even in his lack of control; Jared over him and the soft bed under him.

"Baby," Jared says, hushed into Jensen's shoulder. He pants several moments, drags his cock all the way out, all the way back in, then says in a desperate tone, "baby, you like my cock in you?"

"Yes," Jensen hisses in the short moment he's got air to spend. His hands, folded under his chest so his sternum's rocking over his knuckles, flex and fist.

"Yes," Jared repeats. "'course you do. Tell me, ah, tell me how, tell me why you love it." His lips slide over Jensen's shoulder, the nape of his neck, then back, hot breath over Jensen's cheek and ear. "Please."

Jensen speaks with empty lungs, "'cause it's so big. Fills me up. Like nothin' else ever will."

Jared makes a cracked sound, dick tucking in so deep Jensen feels like it could burrow right up into his throat. "That's right, damn, that's right. That's—"

"'cause I need it," Jensen keeps on going. "'cause it's you and I need you, God, fuck Jay, fuckin' need you so bad, I can't—" go without this, Jensen would finish, if he had any air left, if he wasn't coming hard with a sob and clamping down on Jared's dick. Please don't make me go without this.

The world turns over, and it takes Jensen a second to realize Jared's fucking him on his back now, hands in the backs of his knees to push out his legs as he dives in and out. Jensen looks up at him, feeling small but proud, because he's the one who makes Jared red-faced and sweaty like he is now, makes him gulp breaths and look down at Jensen with that astonished look on his face as he comes.

Jared lets Jensen's legs go and they fall akimbo; makes Jensen feel like a well-fucked slut. He makes a satisfied sound and arches his chest when Jared falls down to kiss him.

"Okay," Jared says, and Jensen feels him grab his hips and lift him into his lap, then hears the cricks of Jared's spine as he lets himself fall back slowly, until he's looking up at Jensen sitting in his lap. "Okay. Good?"

Jensen hums, squeezes around Jared's softened cock and makes Jared's eyelids flutter. "Yeah."

"Good." Jared closes his eyes and exhales, puts an arm behind his head. Because it's second nature, Jensen grabs a corner of the blanket and starts wiping the sweat off Jared's face and neck. Jared snorts, twisting his face away and laughing soundlessly. He wrestles the blanket from Jensen and pulls it over his face.

"Much better," Jensen appraises after a beat.

"So you just love me for my body," Jared says mournfully from behind the blanket. He sighs, "I knew it."

"Idiot." Jensen pulls the blanket up to reveal his smiling lips and leans down to kiss them. Dirty at first, but gentles into soft presses of his lips on Jared's chin, before his back aches and he has to sit up again.

Jared lifts the blanket off and grins up at him, taps his fingers on Jensen's knee. "We're back on set next week."

Jensen smiles, but stiffens up when he remembers. "'s gonna suck," he says in an undertone.

He watches as Jared's expression furrows in confusion, then evens out in understanding. "Yeah, we won't have a lotta time to..."

"Yeah."

Jared stares at him a minute, then licks his lips as his eyes dart around the ceiling, thinking. Jensen waits, wondering what Jared could possibly suggest. Part of him doesn't even want to talk about it, just wants to enjoy Jared's cock—which is starting to harden up again—in him while it's there and he's full.

Jared's eyes flare in revelation. "Wait." He sits up, balancing on the heels of his hands and looking gleefully at Jensen.

Oh no.

***


"Oh no," Jensen chuckles after Jared's stepped up behind him, planted a big loud kiss on his cheek and set a brown paper bag on the counter.

"You aren't even gonna believe it," Jared sing-songs, arms around Jensen's waist and rocking him as he sways on his heels. Jensen keeps on stirring their dinner counter-clockwise, then clockwise, but leans back into Jared's warmth. "'s not pink is it?"

Jared shakes his head. "Mm-mm; it's skin-colored, like, the exact shade of mine. They did so good, it's even got that, you know that mole..."

Jensen raises his eyebrows.

"I can't wait to try it out," Jared breathes in a rush, "er, uh, for you to try it out, I mean."

"Of course."

Jared hums softly and kisses his hair. Jensen grabs the pepper and probably shakes too much into the pan; he's not good at eyeballing spices like Jared is. At least they both like spicy food anyway.

"What're you cookin'?" Jared asks lightly.

"Jensen's beef stew."

"That a down home recipe?"

"Best in Texas. Or so momma says."

"Momma's never wrong." Jared lets him go and steps to his side, grabbing an extra ladle and testing the soup. He doesn't make a face exactly, but his eyes flick to Jensen with teasing reproach.

He drops the ladle and goes for the cupboards. "See, Jen, you can't be afraid to go for the exotic spices." He takes out two handfuls of jars and shakers and clatters them down on the granite. "Okay, you stir and I'll spice."

Of course, that plan doesn't last. Jared inevitably takes over like usual after he's failed to convince Jensen to lower the heat.

Jensen just smirks and nabs the paper bag, "I'm gonna look at it."

Jared makes a flustered movement that kinda makes it seem like he's being electrocuted. "Wait!" He clicks down the temperature some more. "Just stay there so I can see your face, please." He clicks up the puppy-dog eyes.

Jensen gives him a devious look and leans his hip against the counter, reaches his hand inside the bag in painful slow-motion just to watch Jared buzz with anticipation, ladle barely moving.

Jensen's fingertips touch something cool and firm. He wraps his fingers around the girth and catches his lip between his teeth—feels like a damn kid on Christmas—and slowly brings it up out of the bag, into the light.

"Oh man," Jensen exclaims, while Jared sloshes soup over the pan's edge when he jerks the spoon.

"You like it?"

Jensen just nods, blinking rapidly at the replica of Jared's cock he's holding in his hand. "They did get the mole," he mutters. And the veins, and the color, and what look like fucking pores. There's even the faint redness of Jared's circumcision scar below the head. Jensen strokes down to the base, where there's one difference; the dildo flares out in a gradual swell before it ends in a black disc. Jensen squints to read the raised label there: We Do Dicks! and underneath there's The Jared in thick letters. Around the bottom edge of the disc there's the net weight and length listed.

"Wow," Jensen breathes. Filming starts tomorrow, but he wouldn't mind trying this out tonight. "'The Jared', huh?" He smiles at said man.

Apparently deciding the soup's done—or he's just caught onto Jensen's dirty thoughts—Jared takes the pan off the burner and kills the heat. "I wanted 'Padacock', but they said that might've been too conspicuous."

"Who's gonna go looking up my ass?"

"Exactly!" Jared turns to him and sucks spices off his fingers with a mirthful smile and a questioning glint in his eye.

And God, does Jensen want to try it out right now, but after tonight he might not get the opportunity to have Jared's real, warm dick inside him for awhile. So Jensen wordlessly conveys tomorrow with his expression and Jared nods.

Reverently, Jensen puts the plug back into its paper bag, then takes it to their room and leaves it waiting on the nightstand while he washes up, then heads back downstairs to start his dinner ritual with Jared.

Jared's already got their bowls ready, so they head into the living room. Jensen sets his soup on the coffee table and starts undoing his fly while Jared sits on the couch and watches, looking as dumbstruck as he does everytime. Jensen's learned to do it slow, just to prolong the sensation of Jared's eyes on him, how Jared watches him like the simple act of taking off his jeans is enough to blow Jared's whole world.

After he's tugged his jeans off his bare feet and Jared's popped his fly with one hand, the other balancing his bowl beside him on the couch, Jensen pads over and lowers himself on Jared's lap, down his cock. Jared and him both groan.

"You're gonna have to let me watch you finger yourself one day," Jared says, rough. He tilts his hips up to get that last little bit of his cock inside Jensen's well-lubed hole. "You always come from it? Without touching your dick?"

Jensen enjoys the feel of Jared against him and inside him a few dizzy moments, then says, "most of the time. 'cause I'm thinking about getting you inside me. Makes me crazy."

Makes him crazy anyway even when he's not touching himself or getting himself touched. Makes him fucking nuts.

Jensen leans forwards and grabs his bowl and the remote from the coffee table, settles back into Jared's chest, legs hanging around the outside of his. He flicks the TV to the nearest movie channel and turns it down till it's humming background noise.

Jensen spoons some soup into his mouth and chuckles. "You were right about the spices."

"Sure was," Jared says, presses soup-hot lips to the back of Jensen's neck. Jensen listens to the slurp of him swallowing, then jumps when Jared's left hand wraps around his cock.

Jensen plops his spoon in his bowl and pulls Jared's wrist away. "Trying to eat."

Jared's hand spreads over his thigh instead, five points of warmth with a hot center. "Am I distracting you?"

Jensen digs his shoulder blades back into Jared's chest. "I don't wanna get jizz in my soup."

"Does momma know about that secret ingredient?"

"Oh my God, Jared. That's nasty," Jensen says while Jared chuckles. It moves his cock around inside Jensen in little jerks. Jensen hums angrily and sticks his eyes on the TV, keeps eating.

"I'm sorry," Jared says after he's calmed down. There's apology in his touch when he rubs Jensen's thigh. "I know you don't like me laughing when I'm in you, but you're so damn funny sometimes..." Jared sighs. Jensen hears him swallow some more of his soup, before Jared kisses his shoulder with those hot lips. "I love youuu."

He sounds like a five-year-old, but Jensen smiles around his spoon.

***


Jared's kissing him against the dartboard, rough and passionate, clicks his teeth with Jensen's several times. "We got like," Jensen breathes when Jared leaves his lips to start mouthing under his ear, "twenty minutes till they call us for makeup. Ah, fuck."

"'s enough time," Jared says. He's unbuckling Jensen's belt and jerking it through the loops. "You're already prepared, right? Shoved your fingers inside you, got yourself all wet, came everywhere?"

Jesus. Jensen can just nod, face getting hot—Jared's dirty mouth is always a surprise, and it's been especially shocking today. Neither of them are method actors, but Jensen wonders if Sam's darker persona this season might have more of an influence on Jared than he realizes.

Jared's kneeling down and damn-near clawing his jeans down his legs, till he's stopped by Jensen's shoes. He lets them pool around his feet while he licks a wide strip up Jensen's hard cock. His tongue presses softly over the head, cleaning away the pre-come that's bubbling already.

Jensen moans fitfully, thumping his head back into the dartboard, spreading his legs as wide as the restraint of his jeans will let him. "Juh—Jay, uh..." He puts his hands over Jared's on his hips, hangs onto his wrists as Jared darts his tongue around his dick, makes little jabs of naked sensation shoot up Jensen's spine.

Jensen feels the licks stop and hears Jared whisper, "get the plug," before he starts teasing Jensen again. Jensen stretches a heavy arm to grab the bag on the table beside them, that Jared had been holding when he first came into Jensen's trailer and had left there waiting while they made out. Jensen quickly grasps the plug mold of Jared's dick and rips it out, lets the paper bag flutter down, where it tumbles down Jared's head and back and rasps on the floor.

He puts it in Jared's waiting hand, looking down now, eyes open to watch. Jared breathes out and sits back on his haunches, looks up at Jensen, then licks his lips and holds Jensen's balls out of the way with one hand, nudges the plug behind them with the other.

The head of the plug is pleasantly cool as it rubs across his taint, makes Jensen shiver and his nipples knot up behind his shirt.

When it slips over where Jensen's slippery with lube he holds his breath in anticipation, spreading his hands out on the wall and curling his fingers. Jared doesn't tease him—probably would if they had more time—so as soon as Jared's lined it up he starts putting pressure. Breath still hanging in his lungs, Jensen relaxes against the insistent prodding and feels his hole swallow up the head like a greedy little mouth.

Jared's breath hushes out along with his. "Are—"

"Go go go," Jensen urges, wants to be fed. "God, don't st—"

"I'm not," Jared says. Jensen feels more of the toy slide inside him and he's sweating—drops tickling down his chest and the back of his neck—and he's trying to keep himself quiet, biting back whimpers behind his teeth.

"God," Jared whispers. He drops his forehead against Jensen's thigh. "I've never—I wish you could see this," he pushes it in harder, faster, "how you just eat it right up. We gotta get a mirror, I wanna fuck you in front of a mirror. Jen."

"Yeah," Jensen hoarses because fuck yes and why haven't they done that yet, and because the wide, different base is starting to stretch him and fuck, can it even fit? Jensen's never been spread around anything bigger than Jared's cock, and that might be his limit. Absurdly, hot anger pulses in his mind, at himself; his hole better be able to wrap around the plug because he needs this.

It stings. Jensen can't help his hiss of pain, how his hips jump. Jared stops, looking up, "Jen, maybe—"

"No," Jensen says, the bones of his voice wobbling because now that Jared's not pushing his hole is clenching around the widest part of the plug and it hurts. "Keep fuckin' goin'. It'll fit, it'll fit."

He feels the pressure start up again and can't help his loud "ah!" when Jared lifts his head from his thigh and swallows his cock, enveloping it in sucking warmth. Jensen fucks in, feels his knees shake, grabs Jared's hair in big fistfuls. "Guh—od!"

The sting in his ass sharpens under the pleasure, then Jensen feels very full, very very full and Jared's big hot hands move to wrap around his hips, and that means Jensen's got the toy all the way in now, he did it. He clamps around it purposely, feeling the smooth alien but so familiar shape, the corded veins.

When he jerks his hips to get his dick deeper in Jared's throat the plug bumps the crowd of nerves far up inside and Jensen shakes apart helplessly then drops down the wall. "Jared."

Jared takes him into his lap, fills his mouth with his tongue and his own come. Jensen swallows, should find it gross but is so beyond everything he even pinches Jared's chin and holds him still so he can lick the excess come from his lips, shove his tongue under Jared's to find more. Kisses him again, rough and passionate—breathing short breaths through their noses, hungry sounds in their throats. Jensen pushes his chest into Jared's until his co-star falls back on the trailer floor and Jensen follows him down. He's overwhelmed with exquisite feeling as he continues the kiss and he wants to push all of it into Jared's mouth, let it light him up from the inside.

"I love you," Jensen says, ripping his lips away a moment. His voice is almost angry with the amount of force he puts behind it, like a punch from his mouth.

"Love you too, Jen," Jared husks, voice cracked in four places.

Jensen moves to crash their lips together again, but there's several soft knocks on the door.

"Boys! You done with your video game?"

"Yes!" Jared says loudly, while Jensen ducks his head into his neck and laughs. "And I totally owned Jensen's ass!"

 

***


Months of filming go by once Jared and Jensen are back in their element. When they're not too sleepy, they fuck; put in quickies in their trailers and early in the morning. Jensen wears the plug the rest of the time, and it's the cause of a few extra takes when Dean sits down and winces for no apparent reason. Jensen tells the crew it's his back with Jared shaking in silent laugher beside him, biting his lip so hard it whitens under the pressure.

There's a break in filming in December. Jared invites both their families over and Jensen spends Christmas getting eggnog poured down the back of his Christmas sweater by Jared's brother, who turns out be even more of a prankster than Jared himself. They both get battered with is there a girl questions over dinner, which Jared evades smoothly by saying he just doesn't have time for it, Momma. Mackenzie pipes in that Jensen's pretty much Jared's girlfriend and it earns a few chuckles before Jensen changes the topic to filming and barbecues and how 'bout them Cowboys?

After the gifts are opened and the turkey's a carcass Jensen hugs his mom and his dad and gives his siblings the sibling-regard they're due, and Jared's called the cabs and given bearhugs to his family, they're alone and cleaning up leftovers, gift wrap and stray Hershey's kisses.

"It's a really nice knife, Jen," Jared says, accent strong as it's been all night as he uses the new pocket knife to cut some stubborn decorations down. "I wanna know how much you spent?"

"I wanna know how much you spent on this watch?" Jensen returns, studying his wrist and turning it so the watch catches the light and gleams. "All that is gold does glitter, huh?"

Jared chuckles and stuffs the last few decorations back in their box, closes it, shuts the knife and places it delicately on top. He turns and comes over to Jensen, pulls him in by his ass and kisses him deep. Jensen has to lift his heels off the floor a little because he's in socks and Jared's in shoes but he presses in tight so he can feel Jared's cock stiffening, can grab scratchy handfuls of Jared's stupid Christmas sweater and moan into his mouth.

As Jared's tongue pushes at his Jensen aches; hasn't had anything in him all day because it just seemed a step too far to squirm in his seat around their families, and now he's feeling the withdrawal. He needs desperately to be filled up again. He says as much to Jared, who makes a sound like Jensen's just stabbed him and scrabbles at Jensen's own ugly Christmas sweater, rocking in.

"Haven't gotten ready yet," Jensen says, reluctantly dropping back onto his heels and stepping away with Jared's wrist in his hand.

"I get to watch," Jared says, a childish urgency in his breathless voice like he thinks Jensen won't let him.

Jensen gets the both of them in their room, where Jared just stands and watches him as he gets the tube of lubricant from the nightstand and drops it on the bed, hands going to his fly. He stops with just the button unfastened, meeting Jared's too-bright eyes and swallowing. "Undress me," he says. Half his voice cracks and the rest of it flutters in the air. He lets his hands fall away and stands wide and ready.

Jared walks—slow—over to him. There's a little smirk on his lips and he's gorgeous in the length of his legs, in the predator-cant of his shoulders. He pulls up the hem of Jensen's sweater slowly, until Jensen's head pops out. Jared drops the eggnog stained garment to the floor, pinches the zipper of Jensen's jeans and draws it down until Jensen's fly is split open and his cock is kissing heavy air.

"You can always do it, you know," Jensen says, while Jared's pulling down his jeans, "get me open on your fingers."

When his jeans are rumpled around his ankles Jared spins him around and pushes him onto the bed. "Done that so many times," he says as he's freeing Jensen's feet from the jeans. "I wanna watch you."

"It is Christmas," Jensen hums, smiling at Jared when the other man sits back on his haunches, hands fisting on his thighs. They're both a little buzzed, a little loose. Jensen isn't sure he'd feel comfortable doing this otherwise, but for now he reaches for the lube beside his shoulder.

He brings his knees up and watches Jared's expression turn sharp and alert—more cat than puppy. Jensen spreads just that little bit wider, feels a rush when Jared's knuckles creak as he fists his hands tighter on his thighs. It buoys Jensen, loosens those final knots; there's power here, in laying himself out bare and vulnerable.

Jensen flicks the cap of lube open and squeezes out a generous swell. It's damn icy on his palm. He stretches to put the tube back on the end table then dips and rolls his fingers from his other hand into the liquid, getting them liberally coated and slippery. He feels Jared's eyes on him like a band of heat wrapped tight, crushing all the parts of him together.

Catching the soft of his lip between the pricks of his canines, Jensen reaches down his body and brings his feet in closer, tilts his hips up until his fingers can reach under his balls and drip lube down his taint.

Jared blinks hard like he's got sweat in his eyes and he might. He darts his hands off his thighs to lightly curl them around Jensen's calves, whispers, "Jesus."

Jensen keeps his eyes on his face while he touches over his hole with his middle finger, taking in Jared's parted lips and dark dilated eyes, the way the front of his jeans is bulging out obscenely as his cock fights to free itself from the teeth of his zipper.

Jensen pushes his slick finger inside himself, letting his lip go to lick it as he arches his hips up, folds his other arm behind his head. He pulls the digit out and puts in two on the next push in, just to see Jared's expression get that much more awed. "Jen..." He strokes Jensen's legs, pushing the light sprinkles of hair up and then smoothing them down. His eyes bounce between Jensen's face and in between his legs like he can't figure out where he wants to look.

Jensen doesn't try for three fingers; he likes that last little bit of sting when he takes Jared inside him. Instead, fingers stuck in to the last knuckle, he wiggles them around, pulling them apart as much as the muscle will allow. From this angle it's harder to touch his spot and he doesn't have Jared's longer fingers or flexible wrists, but he doesn't need to. Even if it's own fingers the sensation of something inside him turns his body into a length of tingling heat and pulsing ice.

The hand behind his head curls into a fist, smooshing the remaining lube out between his knuckles. His cock is bubbling pre-come on his stomach but he doesn't give it any attention because, "I can come, just like this."

"Me too," Jared kind of whines, and it's so funny Jensen has to chuckle, which makes his hole constrict around his fingers until he relaxes with a soft noise.

Jensen grinds the heel of his palm over his balls while he fingers himself, eyelids fluttering. He keeps them open just to watch Jared and the way he pants along with Jensen, face and the crux of his collarbones glistening with sweat, dark hair spidering his cheeks and temples. Jared moves in closer, hands moving up Jensen's thighs. For a second he seems to loom over Jensen, impossibly big and powerful, but all that's belied when he drops down over him and catches his lips, gentle and reverent.

Jensen exhales shakily against his lips, moving his arm out from behind his head to fist it in the back of Jared's hair, lube getting in it like the world's dirtiest hair gel. "I want you in me all night, and... and, tomorrow—breakfast, lunch and dinner. You under, you un'erstan'?"

"Yeah," Jared drawls back, kissing down his neck. Jensen twists his fingers like wild things inside himself, toes spreading as his feet slide restlessly on the bed. His eyes shut tight, knees splaying out wider. Unable to resist the urge, he jerks his fingers out then plunges them back in hard, hips rising with the swell of feeling.

He feels himself coil tight, his balls bunching, and loses a moan in Jared's mouth when his lips return to his face.

Jensen turns his head to the side to gasp, "watch, watch, Jay I'm—"

He feels Jared slip out from under his arm, his warmth pulling back and hands once again planting themselves on his thighs. "Oh fuck, Jen—"

Jensen makes a wounded sound and arches his back, stuffs his fingers in as far as they'll go. "Ah, fuck!" And crumbles gracelessly, comes all over himself, twisting his hips into the air with each shocking pulse, eyes flared open, vision blurred and wobbling. His hand yanks the sheet so hard it comes out from under the mattress and snaps elastic along his side.

He thinks he might kick Jared. Still trembling, he opens his mouth to hush out, "Jesus, sorry," but all that's muffled by Jared's tongue and lips, the scraping zipppp of his fly being undone. Like a damn Pavlovian response, Jensen hikes up his weak legs and Jared surges against him, huffs harsh breaths against his lips and they both groan loud and low when Jared slides up inside him.

"Yes," Jensen grunts, shuddering at being filled so perfectly. Jared's still in his stupid Rudolph sweater and it's scratching Jensen's nipples raw as he moves, the bead for the deer's nose grinding into his sternum but damn if it isn't a Merry fuckin' Christmas.

 

***


On New Years they're both hammered, come back to the house with fireworks still superimposed in their vision and alcohol making them clumsy—not two steps into the house and Jensen trips on the rug and takes Jared down with him and they laugh and kiss and fuck right there, after Jared's taken The Jared out and rolled Jensen onto his stomach.

Jensen wakes up the next morning in bed, somehow, and wipes a hand across his eyes and groans—for one, his brain's drumming against his skull, and for two, Jared's not in him.

"Jay?" He turns onto his back, sweeping his arm over the space next to him.

"Over here," Jared's voice says to his left. Jensen dares to crack an eye open and sees Jared's blurry shape in the dim morning light.

"Time's it?" Jensen knuckles the sleep out of his eyes. A deep breath and a few more blinks and he can see Jared clearly, belt jangling as he pulls his jeans up his thighs, white dress shirt unbuttoned and beanie askew on his head. Jensen sits up. "You goin' somewhere?"

"It's eight thirty. And yeah," Jared says, low and guilty as he zips himself up and buckles his belt. "Los Angeles. You 'member the script I showed you?"

"I thought you said you turned it down? 'cause of the schedule."

"Yeah, well. They must really want me to be in this movie because Sally called and told me they've pushed back shooting a few months. She said I should go check it out, so..." Jared gives him a helpless look. "She's already booked me for the nine thirty flight."

Jensen nods slowly. "How long'll you be gone?"

"Just the weekend, hopefully." Jared does up his last button and heads into the bathroom. His voice filters out, "you'll be okay, right? I mean, you got The Jared."

"Yeah," Jensen says after a few seconds, unsure whether he should be offended that Jared thinks he won't be okay without his dick. While Jared's in the bathroom, Jensen looks around and spots his suitcase, kind of envies how fast Jared can pack.

Jared comes out of the bathroom smelling like toothpaste and the cologne his brother got him for Christmas, beanie fixed. Jensen's never seen anybody look so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after a night of hard drinks and harder sex.

Jensen can't help but glare as Jared bends and kisses his cheek, his lips, then pulls up the handle of his suitcase and sighs. "Okay. I made you breakfast. It's on the table along with some aspirin, and," Jared drops his voice to a secretive whisper, "a little hair of the dog. A little, Jensen."

"Got it."

Jared smiles—his too-wide caffeinated smile, then he's rolling his suitcase out of their room. "Don't forget to feed Harley and Sadie!" he calls from the front door, then there's a bunch of babble as he pets said dogs.

Jensen hears the door open, listens to Jared's footsteps and the roll of his suitcase until the door shutting closes off the sound and he's left in the dim quiet of 8:38 in the morning. Grumbling, Jensen gets out of bed and pulls a pair of shorts on before he wanders out of the room and into the kitchen.

The food helps a bit. The aspirin and the little bit of alcohol helps some more. He dumps too-big portions of the overpriced dog food Jared buys into the dogs' bowls and gives them a refill on their water and some compulsory head-pets before he throws himself on the couch to waste the day on reality television he tells Jared he doesn't watch.

Filming resumes soon, so at three Jensen picks up the script for the next episode and reads it through, runs some lines with the mop in the kitchen he uses as a stand-in for Sam.

At six Harley and Sadie are moping around the kitchen. Jensen finishes off the line he's on then rubs between Sadie's ears. "Sadie-baby?"

Her ears perk up; it's what Jared calls her. Her brows twitch in confusion as she stares at Jensen though. "Aw, girl. Jay'll be back in a few days."

She makes a grumpy sound and flops down around Jensen's feet. Harley's not much better, hanging his head over by the fridge. Jensen sighs and stands, realizing in his haste to get ready Jared probably didn't have time to run the dogs. It's a little too late and a little too cold to get them out now, but Jensen lets them out in the backyard and tosses a frisbee and plays tug-of-war with Harley until it's eight and the telltale hollow sensation is building up in his gut.

Jensen gets the dogs back inside. While they scamper over each other to their bowls Jensen throws off his jacket and decides he'll just order in later; right now he's hungry for only one thing.

His phone lights up on the table as he goes past, probably just Jared doing his usual check-in. Jensen ignores it for now and heads up to their room, taking off clothes as he goes.

He grabs the tube of lube and prepares himself perfunctorily, just eager to stuff himself with the toy. Dick bobbing, he shifts himself onto his knees and reaches a lube-slick hand for the nightstand drawer, where The Jared stays when the real Jared is available.

He feels around inside the small space and his palm only gets pricked with an assortment of pens and the sharp edges of an unopened tube of pharmacy lubricant—Jensen really needs to buy another gallon of Wet when he gets the chance.


Jensen pulls out the drawer more and leans over to look inside, kind of getting a little fucking nervous when he realizes the toy's not in there. "You've gotta be kidding me," he mutters, closes the drawer and sits back on his haunches to look around the room. Where the hell does a dildo disappear to?

He can't see it anywhere. Jensen sighs in frustration, wipes his lubey hands on his thighs and gets up.

There's not a lot of places it could be in their room; there's just the bed, two nightstands and the adjoining bathroom. Jensen upturns pillows and covers, then feels around under the bed, turns out the nightstands, and even flips back the curtain of the window in a moment of desperation. The Jared is, of course, not laying on the sill but Jensen's disappointed anyway.

He thinks he's dropping IQ points the more he looks—in the bathroom, he checks under the sink and behind the shower curtains because it might fucking be there, who the hell knows? He goes into the living room and slides his hands in the cracks between cushions, looks under the coffee table, checks the damn cupboards and the freezer why? He's squirming inside with need and can't resist even the slimmest chance that somehow, someway that The Jared will be in the fridge or the fruit bowl.

It's only when he's having thoughts about checking the garage does he drop down into a chair, fingertips digging into the table. He hasn't felt like this in a while; he's always had Jared or The Jared when he needed it. Now he's empty and jigging his naked leg under the table, cold inside and on the edge, feels like his skin is just gonna stretch and split.

Fuck.

His phone goes bright again and he feels the vibrations travel from the table into his hands. He grabs it after a moment.

There's two texts from Jared.

OMG I'm sorry :( which was sent twenty minutes ago, and I'm really really sorry which was sent just now. A little happy for the distraction, a little apprehensive about what Jared could be sorry for, Jensen texts back for what??

His ringtone breaks the silence not even a minute later. Jensen answers with, "what are you sorry for?" making sure to keep his voice straight. He can't let Jared know he's falling apart over the loss of his synthetic counterpart.

Jared's voice bursts through the line, "Jen! You won't believe it man. I'm so sorry. Right now I'm looking at The Jared sitting on top of my shirts."

Jensen can only blink. "What?"

"I packed it," Jared groans. "By accident. I was in such a hurry and, it was on the nightstand, I must've knocked it into the bag and just threw my shit on top... Oh man, I'm so sorry. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Jensen says, still blinking, then goes ahead and says, "I was looking everywhere for it," without thinking what a contradiction that is to his previous sentence.

There's a sharp sound over the line which is probably Jared smacking his forehead. "I'm so fuckin' sorry... Maybe I should just take the flight back tonight? Do this some other time..."

"No, no, it's really all right," Jensen insists, sitting back in the chair and rubbing his face. He smiles and chuckles softly. "I can't believe you stole my dildo, dude."

"I feel like shit," Jared glums.

Me too, Jensen thinks, squirming in the chair, fingers curling in and out, but he says, "it was an accident, Jay. I'm just glad like, it's not lost forever or something."

"So you're gonna be okay?" Jared asks. "I mean, I know you get uh, I know you don't like sleeping without..."

Jensen's dick is still hard, throbbing in time with the pulse of emptyemptyempty in his ass. "I'll be fine," Jensen says, a little strained as he shoves his hand into his lap like he can push down the sensation. He grabs his own balls and squeezes. "I mean there's other, other implements."

There's a raspy crackle over the line that might be Jared shifting and choking on air. "Like what?" Jared's tone is low and eager.

Jensen needs to come so bad. "We're not doin' phone sex," Jensen tells him as steady-voiced as possible with all his blood down south. "I actually uh, need to get dinner goin' and I'm pretty tired so."

"All right Jen," Jared says, doesn't sound too disappointed. "I'll call you tomorrow, and I'm getting home as soon as Sally'll let me."

"Sure. Bye Jared." Not sparing any seconds to feel guilty about being an ass, Jensen slams his thumb on the end call button and lets his phone fall somewhere on the carpet. He lifts his legs over the armrests and wraps a hand around his cock, stuffs four fingers in his hungry hole. Before he can even thrust or jerk his dick, he's shuddering and being entirely too loud as he comes. He convulses in the chair, almost tips it back, warm come splattering up his chest and chin.

It's too much yet unsatisfying; there's still that damn itch, still that damn roiling feeling in his gut and chest. Jensen unhooks his legs from the armrests and falls forward until the table's edge is digging into his ribs. He yanks rickety breaths into his lungs, toes spreading and clutching at the plush carpet.

There's a few phallic-shaped utensils in the cupboard but Jensen knows he has to draw the line somewhere. His pride won't let him use them. Two hours after the phone call he's jerked off a few times and ordered some pizza, ate and then jerked off again, and now he's going to bed. He is going to sleep.

Jensen rolls onto his stomach, lips opening against the pillow when his unrelenting erection slides on the high thread count sheets but he's not going to pay attention to it, he's not. There's no use anyway, and he had found that out after the first orgasm—there's still that nagging, hungry sensation in his body like a cold, twisting rock.

Hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet and already he needs Jared so bad, misses him way too much.

Hard and empty, Jensen flips the pillow to the cooler side and tries to sleep.

It's just two days.

***


"So you're sure you're fine."

"'course I am," Jensen says steadily, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulls on his angry-red dick with both hands in an effort to appease it. He's watching TV without really watching it, just lights and colors flitting over his retinas. Both his legs are jigging anxiously and he couldn't help the movement if he tried. "God, I'm not some..."

"I didn't say you were," Jared replies, warm and always sincere. "Just, you sound kinda hoarse?"

"I just got up."

"Oh. So—" Jensen loses the rest of what Jared says as he comes, another damn useless orgasm that has him tearing his teeth into his lips to stifle his groans and gasps.

"What?" he asks when his dick stops spitting. His voice sounds shaky and high to his own ears.

"I said I'll be home tonight."

Jensen does groan then, in pure relief. He thumps his head back on the couch and lets out a breathy laugh. "Good!" he exclaims before he can stop himself. Cheeks warming, he sits up straight and rubs at his hot face with the hand not covered in come. "I mean, the dogs are goin' crazy without you. They want their daddy back."

Jared laughs, stuttered and cracked in Jensen's ear. "Damn Jen, you can't say shit like that."

Jensen's poor dick tingles. He spreads his legs wider and settles back into the couch, throwing his arm over the back so he can clench his fingers into the buttery leather, resist the urge to start stripping his cock once more. "I miss you too," he says quietly. Then, with entirely too much truth and vulnerability, "miss you inside me."

Jared makes a sound like Jensen's wounded him. "God. Miss bein' inside you."

Jensen closes his eyes, feeling more bereft than ever even as his heart swells in its cage and a rush of warmth swallows him. He picks at the couch and sighs. "Did you get the part?" he asks after a few moments, when his throat feels looser.

Jared sighs. "Don't know. Said they'd call. Sally's been tryin' to get me to go to all these other auditions while I'm here. Told her no, no, and no; I'm gettin' back on the plane today."

"Make sure you don't leave The Jared there," Jensen chuckles. "I'm gonna need it when we go back to filming next week."

Jared laughs, "I won't. Wouldn't want to scar the maid for life. That reminds me, I gotta finish packing up. See you soon Jen."

Jensen shivers at the low tone, dick stiffening all over again. He wraps his tired fingers around it and says, "see you soon."

They say goodbye and Jensen stays on the couch long enough to come again, then switches off the TV and tucks his spent dick into his jeans. He occupies himself with taking Sadie and Harley for their walk, finishing off the last of his lines with mop-Sam and eating some leftovers.

At six o'clock he's puttering around their large house aimlessly, and time's going by so slow Jensen feels each second like molasses creeping uphill. When he's fallen into the habit of pacing up and down the kitchen, a stray thought bounds into his head and he stops, excitement sending a thrill down his body because fuck, he just got the best idea.

Harley's ears perk up when Jensen walks by him, down the hall into the furthest room in the house.

Jensen takes one look inside and tightens up in anticipation. Jared can't get home soon enough.

 

***


Jared's home at ten. The dogs get to the door before Jensen does, so he hangs back even though he's shifting on his heels in excitement. He watches Jared accept Sadie's and Harley's enthusiastic face licks without even a wince, baby-talking as their tails thwip at the air.

When the dogs' relieved keens die down Jared straightens up, crosses the distance between them in two big strides and crushes Jensen into a hug. He sways them side-to-side, humming in happiness. "I really want to kiss you right now, but I'm covered in dog slobber," Jared chuckles, chest vibrating with his voice. "I know you don't like that."

Dog drool aside, Jared smells nice, feels warm and solid. Jensen relaxes into him, inadvertently pushes his hard-on into Jared's thigh. Jared shakes with laughter and gooses him in reciprocation, which makes Jensen's cock all the more interested. Jensen pulls their torsos apart and slides his hands under Jared's shirt, thumbs tacky with lube finding the deep cuts of his hip bones. Looking at Jared's face, Jensen sees the red staining his cheekbones, the pupils blackening his eyes; Jared wants just as much, has missed Jensen just as much.

Jared slowly exhales through his nose, wraps his hands around Jensen's wrists. "Lemme get my bag put away, clean my face off, then we can do whatever you want."

"How about you meet me in the gym," Jensen says, blood thrumming pleasantly. Wants Jared in him now now now but he's waited this long, he can wait a few more minutes.

Jared's eyebrows push together. "Gym? I'm a little too tired—"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "For sex, dude."

Jared mouths oh but his confused expression doesn't change. "What happened to our bed?"

"The bed's fine. Look, just be in there when you're ready to fuck."

"I... will be, I guess." Jared looks kind of apprehensive.

Jensen gives him a reassuring smile. "You're gonna like it, don't worry. I didn't turn it into a sex dungeon or something."

"Who says I wouldn't like that?" Jared responds, jumping his eyebrows up.

Jensen gives him a dull look.

Jared throws up his hands. "All right." He turns to go get his suitcase. Jensen listens to him muttering I hope it's not too weird and there's things I won't do, Jensen and boundaries, man before he snickers quietly and heads down the hall.

The exercise room is so perfect Jensen wonders why they haven't thought to fuck in here before—soft light, plush carpet, plenty of room, and the best thing: wall-to-wall mirrors.

Between the treadmill Jared's pounded away hours on and the weight bench Jensen's tried once or twice, his full-length reflection stares back at him. He looks like six feet of pure need; eyes too bright, sweat around his hairline, fingers bending, and big brushes of color high in his cheeks makes them as pink as his lips.

Jensen turns to the side and shuffles out of his clothes hurriedly, tosses them in the far corner. When he looks at himself again in the mirror, he feels his face and ears burn and has to fight to keep his eyes on his own. But he has to desensitize himself to it now; he's about to watch himself get fucked for Chrissakes, but he can't help but think he needs to start spending more time in here utilizing the room for its original purpose.

He looks down his body slowly, trying to remind himself that Jared sees him naked all the time and doesn't have a problem with any part of him, that the belly without the six pack is the same belly Jared likes kissing down, that the bowlegs are the same legs Jared likes being between. That his average sized dick is the same dick Jared likes sucking, the same dick that gives Jensen a little thrill when he compares it to Jared's.

Jensen's eyes flick in the mirror, watching as Jared comes into the room. "All right, Jen, I'm—" he cuts himself off.

Jensen turns around, light words on his lips, "'member you said you wanted to fuck in front of a mirror?"

Jared just blinks at him with parted lips, the towel he'd been drying his face with held in weak fingers. His shirt collar's wet and there's strands of hair clinging to his cheeks and he looks very young standing there, off-kilter and surprised. "I remember," he whispers after a moment, just when Jensen's feeling like he should be crossing his arms over his body.

He remains poised just the same; this was his idea and he doesn't want Jared to think he's anything less than comfortable with this. "You still want to?" Jensen asks quietly.

Jared takes a deep breath and then he's there, straining out, "Jen," wrapping long arms around Jensen and jerking him into a passionate, overwhelming kiss. Jensen surges into him, any pretenses he had of this being organized and slow falling away. He sucks Jared's tongue and yanks his fly open, coaxes the thick length of his cock out until it fills his hand. Jensen squeezes, delighting in the heft, the ridges of veins, warm and alive and Jared's.

Jared groans at his touch, breaks the kiss and dips his chin to watch Jensen's hand on his dick.

Jensen pets it in even strokes, resisting the urge to go rough and pull and jerk like he does his own; has to be gentle with Jared's because a dick like this is meant for reverent touches only.

Jensen leans up and in, bites Jared's ear then breathes into it, "sit down."

Jared does—just collapses and folds. Jensen doesn't even have to tell him how to sit, he just knows to lean back on his palms and draw in his knees a little, cock standing up straight like it's got sentience and knows just how to bend.

Heart kicking his ribs, Jensen faces the mirror and plants his feet on either side of Jared's hips, bends at the knees and drops down into a crouch over Jared's cock, pausing a split second to line them up before he lets gravity take him down the rest of the way and Jared's cock parts him—feels like it splits him straight up the middle, leaving a break for encompassing sensation to pour into.

"Jared," he chokes when he's all the way down, when Jared's wrapped arms around his waist, holding him tight. Jensen unfolds his shaking legs and settles them on the outside of Jared's, and oh God it spreads him so wide for the mirror, shows his balls and taint and where his hole's swallowed Jared's cock to the root.

"Oh God Jensen," Jared says, sharp-edged and high, his face in the mirror looking ruined. "Oh God, look at you."

Jensen can't look away. Jared's hands move all over him, big and dark on his skin as they clutch and press. He feels like he should say something but his throat's clogged up and he's shaking and Jared's kissing his shoulder and saying, "look at us."

Jensen can't even move. His reflection stares back with a shocked gape and eyes that are flung wide and dumb with ecstasy.

"I love you so damn much," Jared gasps into his skin, red face hidden in his neck. His arms shine gold in the mirror but they're wrapped around Jensen like he's the treasure.

Jensen inhales a stuttered breath and a hot tear tickles down his cheek. "Jay, you're—you're perfect. Feel so good." So damn good to be full again, to be sated even while his cock is hard and begging for attention. "Always make me feel so full. I..."

He has to stop there because his throat contracts and closes up on him. He doesn't know if he had any words anyway. Jared's hand reaches up and slides against his cheek, rubbing away the tear. Jensen grabs his hand before it can slip away and kisses his knuckles, each one.

He doesn't need words.

fin