Jared would never really think of himself as a particularly jealous or covetous person. He has two siblings, his momma brought him up right, and he knows how to share. His job pays (damn) well, and he's got everything he needs and pretty much everything he wants. He admires a sexy motorcycle every so often, and he's been known to window shop at stores above his pay grade, but he knows where he stands and he's happy with it.
But it has to be envy that's hitting him hard in the gut right now, watching Jensen from across the bar, chatting up some cute red-head in a short skirt. The girl has a fresh drink in front of her, and her hand on Jensen's forearm with her manicured nails, and Jared wants to go over there, push the girl aside, and show Jensen who he should really want.
It's not out of the realm of possibility-- Jensen is openly bisexual-- but it's not Jared's place. Jared is his friend, his co-star, his brother for 16 hours out of the day. He's not a hook-up, and he's not a boyfriend, even though Jared might wish for one or both of those things. Ever since they met and Jensen's handshake was firm and warm and Jared's brain went, oh, there you are, he's been fighting the near-overwhelming magnetism of Jensen's smile, Jensen's eyes, Jensen's stupid biceps and bowlegs and freckles.
They made out, once. Jared was horny and Jensen was drunk, and it was fucking awesome until Jensen tried to take off his shirt and elbowed Jared directly in the eye. Jared's eye wouldn't stop watering, and Jensen was too fucked up anyway, and Jared put him to bed regretfully and then went searching half-blind for an ice pack. In the morning Jensen took one look at him and cried, "Holy shit, what'd you do to your face?" and Jared realized he didn't remember a thing.
For a week, while his cheek went from purple to red to yellow-green, Jared couldn't stop thinking about it: the feeling of Jensen's body under his, Jensen's hands in his hair, Jensen's tongue in his mouth. Jensen was an excellent kisser, smooth and persuasive with just a hint of aggression, and Jared still gets a little turned on imagining it. Okay, a lot turned on.
Like now, when he's acting like a total creeper, staring unguarded at Jensen across the room. He knows he's staring and he can't stop, not when Jensen puts his big hand on the girl's hip, or leans in to whisper something in her ear. Jared imagines taking the girl's place, having Jensen standing between his knees, fingertips under the hem of his shirt, perfect mouth an inch from his ear. His heart is pounding in his chest, his face feels hot, and it takes him much too long to realize someone's trying to get his attention.
Does he want another drink? No, it probably isn't smart. But he offers to buy a round anyway, to cover for his lapse, and gets up from the table. He's half-hard in his jeans but his shirt-tails cover him and save his decency, and he heads for the bar trying to calm his racing pulse.
Jensen sees him coming and his face lights up, smile turning bright and true in an instant. The girl looks over her shoulder with a slightly confused expression, and then catches sight of Jared. Jensen waves him over and Jared hesitates only half an instant before obeying, drawn to Jensen like a moth to a flame. Jensen could ruin him, burn him, and Jared wants to let him.
"Hey man," Jensen says, reaching out to touch Jared's shoulder. Jared leans into the almost-caress with a nod to the girl, and she gives him a sweet little smirk.
"Came for another round," Jared explains, and pats Jensen on the back as he steps past. He orders, hyper aware of Jensen right beside him, feeling crazy with want. He won't have another. He should go. He should go and leave Jensen to his game, his score. Stop acting like a lovesick stalker or a jealous crush.
He pays, delivers the drinks, and slips into his coat. The crew protest, demanding he stay, have another beer, but he waves them off. Early morning this morning, he says, early bed. Gotta get started on his sleeping in now if he wants it to count.
The taxi back alone isn't cheap, but Jared has money in his pocket and he tips the guy generously and wanders up the front walk. The house is dark and quiet. The dogs lift their heads, curious, and Jared kneels to give them both a pat. They get up and follow him out back, and then come right in again to have a drink and lay down. Jared toes off his shoes and climbs the stairs to his bedroom, exhausted. It wasn't a lie, his excuse to leave-- they were up at four this morning, and the morning before that-- and Jared plans to make the most of the handful of days off in catching up on sleep.
He's just getting into bed and turning off the light when he hears the front door open and close, and a pair of voices in the living room. Jensen brought the girl home. Shit. God damn it.
Jared holds his breath, wondering if he should put in his headphones and let music put him to sleep, but before he can sit up he hears Jensen laugh, and then groan, and he gives up. He's going to listen to his best friend have sex. Sue him.
He expects them to head right for the bedroom, but Jared hears a thump, Jensen's voice at the bottom of the stairs now, and the girl laughing. Jared can picture them: Jensen has the girl pinned to the wall, maybe literally, her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. Jensen will have her skirt hitched up her thighs, sliding his fingers up to grab her ass. He'll put his mouth to good use kissing her, licking into her mouth, biting her lip. Jensen likes to be bitten, Jared remembers, so he starts biting and hopes his partner will return the favor. Jared remember sinking his teeth into Jensen's lower lip and hearing him moan, watching his eyelashes flutter.
Jensen likes to be bitten everywhere, but Jared only got as far as his collarbone, and he didn't even get to leave a mark. He wants to put his mouth on Jensen, mark him everywhere, suck Jared was here into the muscles of his back, the softness of his belly, the line of his thigh. He can hear the girl moan, expressing her enthusiasm, and he pictures Jensen cupping her breast with one firm hand, rubbing her nipple through her shirt with his thumb.
The door to Jensen's bedroom opens, creaks like it always does, and then they're right below Jared. Jared hears the bed springs squeal, the girl laugh, and imagines Jensen throwing her down on top of his covers and crawling to cover her himself, pressing her thighs wide and pushing her shirt up over her head. Jensen's fingertips are calloused from his guitar, from driving, from writing on his scripts. They're warm and sensitive and Jared can feel the phantom of their touch on his ribs where he's felt them before.
It's quiet for a while, and Jared can't tell if it's really quiet or if the hammering of his heart is drowning out the good stuff. His cock is half-hard in his boxers, the bulge visible even through the blankets, and he cups a hand over it slowly, sucking in a slow breath at the pressure. He rubs his palm across his dick, shivering, and hears the girl start to moan in earnest.
Jensen's probably eating her out, spreading her wide and dipping his tongue between her legs. Jared's never found pussy particularly interesting or appealing, but he sure as hell can imagine Jensen, on his knees beside the bed, head buried between the girl's thighs. Jensen's lips and chin would be wet with the girl's juice, his tongue flickering against her clit, working her into a frenzy. She's calling out, loud and obvious now, and Jared feels a little sick listening to her. Girls don't do it for him, and girls squeaking and whimpering even less. But his cock isn't getting any softer, even when her moans crescendo as she orgasms.
Jared's sweating, staring at the dark ceiling and palming his erection through the quilt. Downstairs is silent again, but it doesn't last long, because now Jared can hear Jensen talking again, the low rumble of his voice sending tiny shockwaves through Jared's body. He pushes the covers down around his thighs and shoves his t-shirt up. His nipples tighten in the cooler air, and he rubs his thumb over one, making himself shudder. The girl answers Jensen, laughs, and Jensen groans. Jared slips his hand into the front of his boxers and pulls out his cock, which stands thick and hot in his fist.
The girl's making noise again, softer now, and Jensen's answering in kind. He's fucking her now, maybe on her back, maybe in the same position he just ate her out. Or she's on her hands and knees, ass tilted up, pussy open and slick for Jensen's cock. Jared's fingers tighten around his own, drawing a wet pulse of pre-come from the head, and he feels it slide slow and sticky over his knuckles. Another soft groan from Jensen, another squeeze of Jared's cock, and he's wet enough to start moving his hand up and down the length. His balls feel full and tight, heavy between his thighs, so he spreads his legs and dips his other hand into his boxers to cup and rub them.
Below him, Jensen says clearly, "Yeah, oh God yeah," and Jared lets out a tight breath. He scrambles and kicks off his boxers, drawing both knees up until his feet are flat on the bed. He lets go of his cock and slips those fingers into his mouth, tasting the bitter salt of pre-come on them. Jensen's bed starts to squeak audibly, rhythmically. Jared pictures Jensen on his knees, holding the girls hips and fucking her from behind, his ass clenching and thighs flexing as he drives into her. He'd be gleaming with sweat, his forehead furrowed in concentration, his mouth half-open in pleasure. Jared watched him get an impromptu massage from one of the girls on set once who'd showed up with her chair and an open invitation, and he knows the look of relaxed bliss on Jensen's face as if he'd taken a photograph.
Jared switches hands, sliding his wet fingers around his cock again and putting his other hand to his mouth. He jerks himself smoothly to the sound of Jensen grunting quietly and the girl moaning and the bed creaking, and reaches down to rub his newly slick fingertips against his asshole. He could get lube out of the bedside table, but that would mean he was really seriously doing this. Instead he presses one finger inside, a little dry, and then the second, while Jensen fucks away below.
Jared squeezes his eyes shut, listening, bending his wrist uncomfortably to sink his two fingers as deep inside himself as he can. He rubs the sensitive skin between his hole and his balls with his thumb, presses down, feels his cock jerk in his other hand.
Now he can picture Jensen fucking him, hooking his hands under Jared's knees and spreading him wide, pounding him into the mattress. His cock would fill Jared up perfectly, thick and huge and splitting him open, rubbing his prostate with every thrust. He would fuck Jared until Jared was begging, whispering, Jensen, please, oh fuck, Jensen, and then he would lean down and kiss him, cover him with his body, and Jared would jerk himself off between them and hold Jensen in place with his other hand, biting at his mouth the way Jensen liked until Jensen stiffened and moaned and came, filling Jared to the brink.
Jared's whole body tightens, balls drawing up and cock growing even bigger, harder, in his hand. The flickering pleasure is coalescing into something immediate and overwhelming, and in the room below he can hear the girl's voice rising again, and Jensen's groans coming shorter and sharper. Then Jensen says, "Oh, fuck," loudly, and Jared comes silently, gritting his teeth and spurting all over his stomach and hips.
He lies there in bed, panting, naked from the chest down, covered in come and horrified with himself. The house is quiet again, and he is the worst friend in the world. He feels ill, stomach churning even as his body hums with the aftereffects of his orgasm. He rolls to the side to fumble for a tissue, wipes himself off, and throws it on the floor. His skin feels sticky still, his fingers wet and gross, but he hikes up his boxers and pulls the covers over his head and tells himself to go to sleep.
Instead, he listens to Jensen and the girl murmuring, laughing, and then Jensen's bedroom door opening. Jared hears Jensen call the girl a taxi, walk her to the front door, and see her out. The door closes, Jensen locks it, and Jared finally does fall asleep listening to the more familiar, comforting sounds of Jensen getting ready for bed.
In the morning, Jared's head hurts and he still feels guilty as shit, but he drags himself out of bed and into the shower. Once clean he puts on sweats and a shirt that doesn't smell and ventures downstairs. He has to play it cool.
Jensen is sitting in the kitchen, staring at the back of the cereal box. He's wearing his glasses and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and Jared wants to bury his face between Jensen's shoulder blades and squeeze him until he protests, and then fuck him on the kitchen table. His self-control is utterly shot.
Instead, he grunts a hello and pours himself a cup of coffee. Jensen smiles at him, lazy and a little bleary, and Jared blurts, "Good night?" before he can stop himself.
Jensen's smile turns into a smirk. "You heard that?"
"Couldn't help it," Jared says, shrugging casually. Play it cool, idiot, he thinks.
"Sorry," Jensen says, not looking very sorry, and taking another bite of cereal.
Jared sips his coffee carefully. "You gonna see her again?"
Jensen snorts. "Of course not, dude. She wasn't really my type."
"Not your--" Jared says, eyes wide in disbelief. "You brought her home and fucked her, how is that not your type?"
"Eh," Jensen says, shrugging, "kind of noisy for my taste. Not very smart. Kind of small."
Jared makes breasts with his hands, inquiring, because he doesn't actually remember what the girl looks like. Jensen likes his women womanly and his men manly, Jared thinks. Jensen shakes his head.
"Nah, she was fine, just. Not really what I'm into right now."
He's looking right at Jared now, the sleep-fog gone from his eyes and replaced with a kind of heavy intensity. Jared's heart stutters in his chest. He back stares at Jensen for a moment, duly challenged, and then puts his coffee cup down. If Jensen wants to play this game, fine.
"What are you into right now?"
"I wanna get fucked," Jensen says.
The words punch the breath out of Jared's lungs, and he stifles the full body shudder that ripples down his spine. Jensen's showing teeth, predatory, and he pushes the cereal bowl away and stands up. The chair skitters behind him, mundane, and Jensen advances on Jared.
"Come on, man," Jared says, already backed as far against the counter as he can get. His arms are trembling and he's clutching the edge of the counter with white knuckles, and Jensen just keeps coming.
"What are you waiting for?" Jensen asks, voice husky with something Jared recognizes.
Jensen raises an eyebrow, and Jared lets out a shaky breath. Jensen's hand comes up to rest in the middle of his chest and he must be able to feel Jared's heart going a hundred miles an hour.
"Jense'," Jared says, swallowing hard. His body is rushing with heat now, cock fattening up in his sweats. "What are you doing?"
"Taking the initiative," Jensen says, and comes in close. He smells warm and familiar, like the detergent they share and the organic shampoo he spends a fortune on, and Jared inhales deeply before he can stop himself. Jensen smiles, looking up at Jared from behind his glasses, green eyes shining, and he tips his mouth against Jared's parted lips, breathing the same air. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" he asks, and kisses Jared properly.
Jared throws hesitation and self-control to the wind and lets go of the counter, sliding his hands around Jensen's waist and tugging him closer as he kisses back. Their hips slot together perfectly, and Jensen's tongue is familiar and teasing in his mouth. Jared licks back and bites him, and Jensen goes a little wobbly and fists his hands in Jared's shirt.
"You better not be fucking with me," Jared growls, grabbing a double-handful of Jensen's tight ass through his pajama pants.
"No," Jensen agrees, "not fucking with you now, I swear." He laughs against Jared's mouth, arching up into Jared's body and grinding them together. "Last night, totally fucking with you."
"You little shit," Jared says, and bites Jensen's lower lip again. "Why would you do that?"
"You mad?" Jensen asks, panting. His pupils are blown wide and dark, and he's trying to pull a hole in the fabric in his hands. "Did you listen on purpose, Jay?"
Jared's whole body flushes hot. Jensen wanted him to hear. Jensen fucked that girl to make him upset. Jensen's his own catalyst. Jared releases his grip on Jensen's ass and palms the back of his neck instead, tipping him to the right angle for another, deeper kiss. Jensen tastes like the milk on the cereal and a little sour from sleep, but it's perfect. This is everything he's wanted for years, fucking years, squirming in his arms and kissing him desperately.
"Fuck," Jared huffs, breaking away to kiss the corner of Jensen's jaw. Jensen groans and leans back to give him room, and Jared bites down to hear that moan again. "You're sure you're not fucking with me?"
Jensen pulls away abruptly, escaping Jared's mouth and hands, and he slots their fingers together deliberately. He glances down, and when Jared follows his gaze he finds Jensen tenting his pants almost as badly as Jared is.
"I'm not," Jensen says slowly, looking back up and meeting Jared's eyes. "I wasn't thinking straight last night, and I just-- I couldn't stand the fucking tension, man. You were watching me and-- looking like that-- and not making a damn move. I had to do something."
"So you fucked a girl," Jared says, not quite following the logic.
"Wanted to make you jealous," Jensen admits, and he looks away again, fixing his gaze on the checkered floor tiles. Jared squeezes his hands, wants to push that guilt away, wants to push everything away and just have Jensen to himself.
"It worked," he says, and steps away from the counter and into Jensen's space. Jensen blinks up at him, looking nervous, and Jared presses a soft kiss to his lips. "Now what're you gonna do to make it up to me?"
Jensen's angst-face melts away instantly, and he's back to smirking and batting his eyelashes and flirting. He hitches his hips against Jared's again, dragging their cocks together and sending a frisson of pleasure up Jared's spine.
"Thought I'd suck that dick," he says, "to show you how sorry I am."
"Yeah," Jared agrees roughly, lifting up on his toes to grind against Jensen. "And then?"
"Well, shit," Jensen says., tipping his head back as Jared draws his tongue along the length of his jaw, and then sets to sucking on the pulse in his throat. "I could fuck you, or you could fuck me, or we could take it to your bedroom and improvise for a few hours."
"Your room's closer," Jared says, moving on to mark another spot, lower down.
"My room smells like chick," Jensen protests, and he slides a hand into Jared's hair. "I don't wanna-- just want you." He grips tight and directs Jared's next move to the curve of his collarbone, groaning aloud when Jared complies and bites down again.
"Fair enough," Jared says. His cock feels so heavy and big between his thighs, separated from Jensen's by only two layers of clothing, and Jensen slides a hand between them to cup it. He wraps his fingers around the whole girth, squeezing through Jared's sweatpants. His hands are perfect, everything Jared remembers and fantasizes about, and he moans against Jensen's neck.
"Wait," he says, pulling away, leaving Jensen fumbling and confused. "Just-- c'mere." He leans back against the counter again, widening his stance and hooking his thumbs in his waistband, and Jensen gets the picture. He slides to his knees and takes off his glasses, puts them in Jared's outstretched hand for safe-keeping, and lifts Jared's shirt up. Jensen presses his open mouth to the hard lines of Jared's abs, moaning to himself, and Jared puts the glasses down before he crushes them. He slides his hands into Jensen's hair instead, not quite able to get a grip, and Jensen kisses below his navel and pulls his pants down.
Jared's cock springs out, and he's even more turned on than he was last night listening to Jensen get some. Now Jensen's kneeling on the floor in front of him, opening his mouth around the wet head of his dick, and he thinks he can be forgiven for a little lapse of control. He curls his thumb in the corner of Jensen's mouth and rolls his hips forwards, sliding his cock straight in until Jensen chokes. Jensen glares up at him, eyes watering, and he pulls back until his cock pops out of Jensen's mouth with a wet noise. Jensen licks the mess of pre-come on his lips and bends his head to take Jared back down again, and he moans as he does it, fingers clenching on Jared's hips. Jared scratches at his short hair and pets his stubble-rough cheek as Jensen bobs up and down, sucking him deep.
Jensen's mouth is perfection, hot and slick, with the same cocky curl of his tongue that Jared knows from his drunk kisses, and the same look of bliss on his face Jared remembers from the massage chair. His eyelashes are dark against his flushed cheeks, his lips stretched around Jared's dick, and he's never looked better. Jared wants to know what he looks like when he comes with Jared's dick in his ass instead of in his mouth, but he might have to wait, what with the way that Jensen lets go of his hip to slide his hand into his pajama pants. Jared looks past his hips fucking slowly into Jensen's mouth to Jensen's fist working his cock, the dark, damp head just peeking over the tied waist of the pants, and he jerks and groans and makes Jensen cough.
Jared's dizzy, fucking Jensen's face faster, rougher, holding onto the back of Jensen's head and using him. Jensen's breathing hard, groaning when Jared gives him room, and jerking himself frantically.
"Take it out," Jared says, and his voice is totally shot. "Wanna watch you come, c'mon Jensen."
Jensen does, letting go of Jared's hip with the other hand to open his pants and expose his dick, thick and red in his fist. He's gleaming with pre-come, fist moving fast and wet, and Jared can hear the squelch of it over the sound of his own dick sliding in and out of Jensen's open mouth.
He watches Jensen shudder, squeeze his eyes more firmly shut, and hump his hips up into the circle of his fist. Jensen pulls off his cock abruptly, gasping, and presses his face into the cut of Jared's hip. "Gonna come," Jared hears him say, muffled, and he grabs his own dick to keep up. Jensen's hand comes up to cover his, trying to keep the rhythm, but he spasms and cries, "Fuck!" and blows his load all over the floor.
He's still coming when he opens his mouth again for Jared, and Jared's balls draw up tight. He jacks himself hard, cock lubed up nice and slick from Jensen's mouth, and aims hopefully as the orgasm gathers deep in his gut.
"Come on," Jensen pants, lips moving against the head of his dick, and that's it-- Jared comes with a groan, spurting half in Jensen's mouth and half across his lips and cheek. Jensen grabs him with come-sticky fingers and swallows him down, sucking the rest of the come straight out of him as he shakes. Jared clutches at his head and shoulders, pushing his hips hard against Jensen's face, and Jensen moans and huffs and draws it out until Jared's too sensitive, almost in pain at how good it feels.
He pulls back, softening cock slipping wetly from Jensen's mouth, and slumps against the kitchen counter. Jensen sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins up at Jared. His lips are swollen and red, messy, and Jared pulls him up by the front of his shirt and kisses him until he's breathless again.
"Go to my room," Jared says. "Been watching you forever, you fucker, so you've got a lot of making up to do."
"Yes, sir," Jensen teases, pulling up his pants, and bites Jared's lower lip hard. "Gonna prove it to you."