“Jared, what are you wearing?”
Jared stops a few feet from Stacey and looks down at himself, at his soft red sweater with a white button-down and an emerald green tie underneath. His jeans are tight and black, and he’s wearing his best dress shoes, and his hair is actually fixed for once, soft and tamed and straight (thanks to Alex, his hairdresser), and he thought he kinda looked pretty damn good.
He shoves his hands into his pockets and avoids her eyes. Avoids the fact that she’s wearing what appears to be a really nice, sexy red dress that probably costs more than Jared makes in a month. Avoids the fact that even though they’ve been going on dates for a month, he still doesn’t really like her very much.
“I was at a meeting,” he lies as he steps up to her. “Didn’t have time to run home and change.” He touches her chilly arm and presses a kiss to her cheek, knowing better than to try and kiss her matte red mouth. “You look beautiful.”
“I told you this was a formal party, didn’t I? As in, you should have worn a suit?”
“But I look festive,” he mumbles, tugging on the ends of his sleeves and pulling them down over his hands. Stacey’s sigh makes him grit his teeth, his jaw clenching. He feels the start of a headache coming on, something he strangely only feels when he gets within ten feet of Stacey. “Should I leave? I can leave.”
“It’s fine.” She gives a smile to a group of people passing her, reaching up to fix the thick mane of her blonde curls before she slides her hand into Jared’s. “Just please don’t embarrass me.”
They head into the hotel lobby in a silence only broken when Stacey hands the guy at the door her invitation. Jared realizes immediately that Stacey had been right, everyone around them in elaborate dresses and matching, boring suits. He seems to shrink even more then, hating that he’s so tall that he basically towers over everyone, all but announcing that he’s just wearing a sweater and jeans.
“At least you’re not wearing those stupid cowboy boots. Hi, Bonnie!” Stacey pulls them toward a group of people, and Jared has to gather all of his holiday cheer to muster even the barest of smiles.
It’s gonna be a long evening.
There’s a dinner, everything served on china and white linen and in crystal glasses. Jared keeps his napkin tucked on his lap, makes sure to eat slowly, and actually has a fun conversation with the guy next to him who turns out to be a fellow Cowboys fan. He loses the guy when they’re ushered into into another room, one lit low with candles and carefully placed lights, making the whole thing look more like a room fit for an orgy than a place where some kind of Christmas party is going on.
Jared sits down at one of the little tables near the stage, a bowl of floating candles in the center of it. Stacey joins him, huffing something to herself about Jared not pulling the chair out for her. He turns his attention to two guys talking behind him, their voices low but still audible.
“--Couldn’t top last year’s. I mean, that girl was a fucking knock-out.”
“I hear someone saying that there’s gonna be a guy this year, too. Equal opportunity or something.”
“Well, makes sense. I mean, Liam’s as queer as the day is long.”
Jared turns around, his smile a little strained. “What are y’all talkin’ about?”
They both sit back in their seats, like they’re surprised they were overheard. They glance at each other, one of them shrugging, and the other leans forward to speak quietly to Jared.
“The reason everybody comes to these parties. The woman, Leslie, she’s friends with all these burlesque dancers.”
“They’re like fancy strippers,” the other one explains. Jared has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
“So, she always has a couple of them perform at the Christmas party every year. It’s why these things have gotten so huge.”
“They used to just be at her house. Now she can’t fit everybody.”
“Well, yeah, but,” Jared starts, a little shy but he presses on, “what were you saying about the guy?”
“Oh. Leslie’s best friend, Liam. They host these parties together. Leslie’s been trying to find some guy burlesque dancers, and she’s finally found one, I guess. One of them’s going to be doin’ a song tonight.” The guy glances nervously up at the stage before looking back at Jared.
Jared’s heart rate kicks up, and he sits up straight again, licking quickly over his lips. “Oh.”
“Yeah, I know.” The guy wrinkles his nose and reaches for his wineglass. “Just grin and bear it. It’ll be over soon. Trust me, it’ll be worth it. There’s bare tits and everything.”
Jared can’t even manage a smile, just gives a quick nod and turns back around, ignoring the explicit talk of breasts behind him and Stacey texting beside him. The stage is small but nicely decorated, a little fake fireplace set up with a chimney, a small, bare Christmas tree set up to the left near the front of the stage, twinkling Christmas lights everywhere. He’s about to turn to Stacey, to ask about these dancers, when a man appears beside him.
“More wine, sir?”
“Hm? Oh. No, I--” Jared glances up and just stops talking, lips parted around words that just won’t come. The server is impeccably dressed in a fitted tuxedo, his full mouth stained red like he’s been drinking wine himself, like he’s been licking something sticky sweet and cherry-flavored, his big, mischievous green eyes rimmed in dark eyeliner, making them stand out even more.
“Oh, I. I, um. You can. I m-mean. Sure. Yeah, sure.” Jared can’t blink, can’t take his eyes off of him even though he feels Stacey watching now, her eyes burning into him. The guy is staring right back at him, that candy red mouth tugged to one side in a smirk. He brings the bottle of wine he’s holding up to Jared’s nearly-empty glass, filling it up nice and full before he just sets the bottle down on the table.
He tugs his jacket off, letting it dangle off of one finger right in front of Jared.
“Will you hold this, sexy?”
Jared reaches up on automatic, like he’s scrambling to please this beautiful boy, and takes his jacket. He folds it up in his lap, watching him raptly while he unbuttons his white vest and hands that to Jared, too, their eyes locked while he tugs his bowtie loose and off. Everyone is watching now, the rest of the big room utterly silent and staring at the tall, stunning man who is undressing right in front of Jared.
Jared realizes, when the guy starts to unbutton his shirt and reveal the pale, tight expanse of his tummy and chest, that this is it. This is the performance. This is the dancer.
He exhales in a helpless little puff, sinking back against his chair when the boy finally pulls the shirt off, a pair of black suspenders strapped across his lean chest, right alongside his hard, pink nipples. There’s glitter all over him, every inch of freckled skin sparkling under the spotlight that’s now found him, drawing everyone’s attention to his half-naked, beautiful body.
The boy raises an eyebrow at Jared, giving him a dirty little wink as he gathers the fabric of his pants right around his hips and yanks on it, the pants coming off in a perfect, flawless snap, and the entire room, men and women, erupt in applause and catcalls. Jared is given about ten seconds to take in the sight of him: the red sequined short shorts with black ribbon lacing up the sides, the pretty black bow tied right over his dick that matches the ribbon twisted in spirals all the way down his pale, smooth thighs and disappearing into his knee-high black boots, and the little belt of jingly, gold bells around his slim waist before the boy grins and throws his pants right in Jared’s face and spins around to strut toward the stage.
“Ladies and gentleman!” A voice comes out over the speakers just as a jingling Christmas song starts up. “Please put your hands together for the sexiest little minx this side of the Mississippi--”
The boy turns toward woman holding the microphone off to the side of the stage, a hand going to his hip, his face twisting into a theatrical glare. The woman, Jared assumes to be Leslie, grins at him.
“Okay, fine. The sexiest little minx in the world, the peachiest peach bottom and the most flexible little fuckdoll you will ever have the pleasure of jerking off thinking about: Cinnamon Buns!”
The boy seems to preen then, lifting his head with a smug smile and stepping up onto the stage in a flutter of jingling bells. He gives his hips a little swish, showing off that tight, juicy ass under the stretchy red sequined fabric right when a sultry male voice purrs from the speakers:
I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night
There are some hungry, howling cries from a few men and several women in the crowd, including from Stacey who is leaning forward, watching Cinnamon Boy almost predatorily. Jared is stuck exactly where he was, all of the boy’s clothes draped over his lap, the smell of him absolutely everywhere, and Jared couldn’t tear his eyes off of him if the building was on fire.
Cinnamon tugs a fluffy Santa hat onto his head that he got from somewhere and saunters around the naked Christmas tree on the stage, tapping his finger against his chin thoughtfully. He glances around his little “livingroom,” fat red bottom lip jutting out in a pout when he doesn’t see any ornaments to decorate his tree with.
He looks up at the audience with a sudden gasp, bright green eyes widening as he snaps his fingers with an apparent brilliant idea. He looks down at his own body, hands smoothing down his hips and his thighs to where the silk ribbon is wrapped, attached to his tiny shorts with some kind of little buttons. He tugs both of them free at the same time and the ribbons unfurl from his long bowed legs, revealing even more bare, freckled skin. He gives the crowd a triumphant little smirk before he gets to work twining the ribbons around his tree, making sure to bend over at the waist, that luscious little ass right fucking there just a few feet away.
Jared holds in a starving moan and shifts in his seat, his dick entirely too interested in what’s going on onstage for him to be in public, with his female date, no less.
Cinnamon takes a step back and examines the tree, a frown pulling at his pretty mouth before it eases out into pleasure. He catches the eyes of a woman in the front row, holding her gaze as he unties the little belt of bells and pulls them off, holding them up for everybody to see. He starts in on the tree again, draping his garland of golden bells all the way around it, much more pleased when he looks it over this time.
Then, I saw Daddy tickle Santa Claus, underneath his beard so snowy white
“I wanna fuck that sweet ass, baby!” The voice comes from somewhere in the back, and Jared raises his eyebrows, not turning to see who said it because he’s curious what Cinnamon’s going to do. He smiles when the boy just lifts his nose, glaring disdainfully at the back of the room, giving a hard roll of his eyes and getting back down to business.
He chews on his bottom lip, reaching out to fuss over the tree while he ponders. Before long he’s looking up again, the most pleased he’s looked so far, and he brings both hands down between his legs and pulls the bow that’s covering his dick off and holding it up, finally left in just the tight little shorts, his boots, suspenders, and that permanent smirk. He puts the bow on the very top of the tree, attaching it in some mysterious way that Jared doesn’t quite see, but it’s done, the whole tree decorated with lucky things that are still warm from being against his skin.
Everyone applauds him, whistles and cheers and roaring, rowdy calls going up. The noise grows even louder when he glances back at the tree, eyebrows raising like he just got another idea and proceeds to tug down his sparkly red shorts, revealing the quickest, most delectable flash of pale ass cheek before he’s yanking them back up and giving the audience what has the nerve to be a shy grin over one freckled shoulder just as the song wraps up.
The room full of people explodes in applause.
Jared is just staring up at him in shock, so turned on that his fucking skin hurts. He hasn’t looked at a guy in so long, hasn’t let himself give into the temptation of hard, warm flesh and rough kisses and unbelievably satisfying and occasionally bruising, possessive sex because it’s easier not to, most of the time. His mama wants grandkids, and Jared’s so busy at work, surrounded by women and middle-aged accountants, that he hasn’t really thought about it.
The boy hops down from the stage and heads straight for Jared, and Jared sits up, attentive as a fucking puppy dog, all of the boy’s clothes gathered lovingly and he holds them up for him to take.
Cinnamon stops just a couple of feet from Jared, the spotlight on him again, and all of the sudden attention in this painfully arousing situation is making Jared’s face flush. The boy lifts a hand and crooks a finger, beckoning Jared up and toward him as he walks backwards, heading back to the stage.
Jared just stares, mouth open again, the flush spreading all the way down his neck and shoulders now. Stacey is staring at him in amazement and confusion and probably a little bit of possessiveness, but Jared doesn’t even glance at her.
“C’mon,” Cinnamon purrs, his eyes gorgeous and lidded and begging him, and Jared lays the clothes on the table and stands up because he’s a man, because his dick absolutely commands him to obey this sex kitten of a boy.
“Jared, what are you doing?” Stacey hisses, but Jared moves toward Cinnamon like he’s hypnotized, their eyes locked while Cinnamon seamlessly steps backwards up onto the stage and keeps going, drawing Jared closer and closer to him until Jared has to get up on stage with him.
There’s a chair on stage now, directly in the center and facing off to the right, a simple wooden thing that Jared realizes pretty quickly is meant for him. He looks back up at Cinnamon after a few blinks to find him just watching him, a fat candy cane stick, probably a few inches thick and very clearly phallic, caught between his slick red lips.
Everyone is watching them now, murmurs coming up from the crowd, no music playing as everyone waits for Jared to get his shit together and sit down. Cinnamon’s walking toward him again, edging him back and back until he’s against the chair, and it just takes a gentle push from Cinnamon’s hand to make Jared sink down into it, staring straight up at him now as a raucous cheer goes up again.
“Mm-mm-mm,” Cinnamon purrs, not wearing a mic and he doesn’t speak very loud, so Jared knows it’s just for him. He pulls the candy cane out of his mouth, leaving his lips slick and the candy cane smeared with spit, and he takes a step closer to Jared until their knees touch. “I must’ve been a very good boy this year.”
He nudges the candy cane between Jared’s lips, slipping right inside and over his tongue, and Jared’s eyes widen as he tightens his lips to hold onto it, cheeks flushed even more when he realizes people are watching him, are thinking about what he would look like with his mouth around a dick. Cinnamon’s eyes are heavily lidded as he moves it slowly in and out between Jared’s lips, tugging it free finally and tossing it away toward the back of the stage. He tugs the Santa hat from his own head and pushes it down onto Jared’s.
Another song starts up.
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good boy, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
The crowd loses it, and Cinnamon’s smile gets a little more intimate, more genuinely aroused as he runs a hand down Jared’s chest over the sweater, mouthing along to the words as he sways in front of him, working those lean hips for all he’s worth.
Santa baby, a ‘69 convertible too, light blue. I’ll wait up for you dear, Santa baby. So hurry down the chimney tonight.
He lowers himself down into Jared’s lap, spreading those thighs that seem to be made to wrap around Jared’s body to straddle him, and the hungry groans from all the people watching them combined with the weight and feel of this angel on top of him is making Jared’s dick strain against the zipper on his skinny jeans.
Think of all the fun I’ve missed. Think of all the boys that I haven’t kissed. Next year I could be just as good, if you’ll check off my Christmas list.
Jared’s hands are gripping the sides of the chair, and sweat is dripping down his face and throat, his eyes up and trained on Cinnamon who is cupping his face now, moving that beautiful body right on top of him, ass dragging dangerously close to Jared’s dick. Cinnamon knocks the Santa hat off his head and slides a hand into his hair, gripping it firmly and dragging Jared’s face in close, pulling him until Jared’s nose is pressed against his pale chest, the freckles so vivid now and it seems like there are a million of them.
His lips are parted so he can pant against one of Cinnamon’s obscenely hard and dark pink nipples, and it’s taking every single ounce of restraint in Jared’s body to keep from wrapping around it and sucking on it, gnawing on it until Cinnamon cries out, a real sound in the middle of this performance.
The hand in his hair tugs him back, pulls and pulls until Jared’s face is tipped up and Cinnamon is right there, moving tighter against Jared’s body, his sequin-covered dick pressing against Jared’s stomach while Jared’s own strains up beneath that warm body, Cinnamon’s ass settled right on top of it now. He starts to grind Jared now, starts to work his body like he’s already got Jared’s dick inside of him and they’re alone, like this is a show for Jared and Jared alone.
The chair creaks because Jared’s gripping it so tight, and he’s panting harsh and loud and straight up at Cinnamon, their eyes burning on each other, mouths only inches apart as the song plays on.
“Get your hands on me,” Cinnamon whispers against his mouth, his breath sweet with peppermint, voice just as wrecked, breathing just as erratic as Jared’s. “Get those big fucking hands on my body.”
When Jared finally, finally touches him he whimpers with relief, his lashes fluttering but his eyes stay on Cinnamon’s, already fucking each other within that gaze as he spreads his long hands out and grips Cinnamon’s thighs, getting greedy, starved hands on that thick flesh.
Cinnamon grinds in hard, working beautiful, sinful magic on Jared’s cock that is fully hard now and probably breaking the zipper on his jeans, and Jared can’t help but move his hands back, gripping his ass now, two juicy, tight handfuls that he squeezes hard enough to bruise. Cinnamon’s eyes are nearly closed and he’s gasping against his mouth, arching and curving that sweet body in Jared’s grip, riding him like he’s trying to make him come.
He rips away finally, sudden and with a beautifully flushed face and green eyes so vivid they don’t look real. He licks his lips and lifts his head to smirk out at the crowd, giving them a self-assured little wink that goes against the tremble Jared can feel in his body, with the soft little whimpers that Cinnamon was keeping in his throat.
Jared nearly cries when Cinnamon slips out of his lap but he’s back just as fast, facing forward this time, away from Jared, and that ass fits right into the curve of his lap, right over his dick that is humiliatingly hard, that is so big and bulging in his jeans that even the people in the very back can probably see it. Cinnamon pushes the warm plush of his ass right back down on it and he purrs again, arching his back and grinding him again, showing off how tight and pliant his body is, how fucking perfect he would be at taking cock. He reaches down for Jared’s hands, covering them with his own and rubbing them all over his body, molesting himself with them like Jared is a sex doll, like he’s just here to get him off.
And Jared is so, so fucking down with that.
He buries his face against the back of the boy’s sweaty neck, mouth against the very top of his spine, his eyes falling closed while Cinnamon brings his hands up to rub over and over at his stiff nipples, rubbing them like they ache and Jared’s making them feel good.
Jared realizes then that the goddamn song is still playing somehow, that there are people out there watching them still. The song is wrapping up, and just as the last hurry down the chimney tonight gets whimpered out from the speakers, Cinnamon’s up again, grabbing the Santa hat from the ground and tugging it back onto his own head, either ignoring how flushed and wrecked he looks or just completely not aware of it.
He saunters offstage just as the music fades out, all of the stage lights going off, leaving Jared in darkness just as the room all but shakes in thunderous applause.
“Holy fucking shit,” he pants, his knees shaking.
The woman who announced Cinnamon earlier comes out on stage then, and she’s somehow got all of Cinnamon’s clothes with her. She presses them into Jared’s shaking hands, leaning down to whisper against his ear.
“Jensen’s down the hall to the left, third door on the left. If you wanna take him these.”
He can only manage a nod, but it’s enough. She steps back and raises the mic to her lips, a light coming up to find her.
“How fucking hot was that?!”
Jared stands up somehow, so hard he could destroy buildings, Jensen’s clothes gripped in his hands, and he all but runs to the exit.
He gets to the third door on the left much faster than he’d anticipated, and he’s breathing so hard that he feels dizzy by the time he gathers the courage to knock on the door.
There’s a rustle and then the knob’s turning, the door cracking just a little.
“Leslie, I’m so sorry I--”
The door opens a little more and they’re face-to-face again, those huge eyes meeting Jared’s own, and it’s honest to God like fireworks, like a car explosion in an action movie. Like a lightning strike.
Jared doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence or come up with a new one or to invite him in, he just shoulders his way into the impromptu dressing room, not looking around at any of it, not caring if there’s a couch or a table with lines of cocaine on it or if Jensen’s fucking mother is standing there. He pushes the door shut behind him, somehow in his mind enough to shove the lock on the knob in and then he’s on him, gathering Jensen up against him with hands that aren’t shy now, that don’t hesitate, that wrap tight around him and turn them so he can slam Jensen against the door the second before their mouths meet.
Jensen jumps up, climbing Jared like he’s a fucking tree, wrapping those bare thighs around Jared’s waist, arms around his neck, his mouth open wide to kiss Jared deeper, moaning like he’s starving when Jared’s tongue fills his mouth. Jensen is gathering Jared’s sweater as best as he can, tugging the fabric on his back and pulling it up until Jared has to pause, to end the kiss so he can yank his sweater over his head and throw it off to the side.
“I have ten minutes,” Jensen pants, head resting back against the door, his fingers busy yanking at the knot on Jared’s tie, pulling it free and throwing it before he starts unbuttoning Jared’s shirt. “I need you to fuck me as hard as you can because I want to come all over your dick before I go back out there.”
“Yeah,” Jared grits out, his hands digging harder into Jensen’s ass where he’s holding him up, probably bruising him. He lets go of him, lets him slide back to the floor, his boots thumping when they touch the ground again. “We need--”
Jensen leans over, reaching on the counter behind Jared and grabbing a little red velvet bag, pulling out a condom and a sample pack of lube, grinning at Jared’s surprise.
“Leslie always has party favors. She’s a smart girl.”
Jared backs Jensen against the door again while he works on unbuttoning his own shirt and shoving it off, kissing him when he thumbs his jeans open and slides the zipper down, unable to keep in the relieved sigh when his dick finally gets room to move.
“God, I felt this monster on stage,” Jensen whispers against his mouth, his free hand sliding down to pull Jared out of his underwear, gripping the base and slapping the head of it against his flat stomach. “Wanna choke on this thing someday soon. Want you to fuck my throat with it so hard I can’t talk the next day.”
“Jesus.” Jared grits his teeth as he blurts out slick all over Jensen’s teasing hand, hips humping at it to get more friction. “Got a dirty fucking mouth, don’t you?”
He grips Jensen’s hips and jerks him so that he’s turning around, slamming against the door, his burning hot cheek pressed against the cool wood. He’s got his ass out like he’s in heat, back arched deep, hands tugging at the ribbons lacing his shorts up on both sides, pulling them both untied and yanking his shorts down just enough so that his ass is hanging out of them.
The curve of it is so sweet, a beautiful, mouth-watering peach of an ass that Jared wants to suck on, to get his mouth all over and his tongue inside of, but the clock is ticking.
Someday, just like Jensen said.
He takes the pack of lube from Jensen and rips the top off, squeezing a slick puddle of it out onto his fingers and smearing it around before he edges his fingers between those soft, thick cheeks to rub at Jensen’s hole, massaging it, begging it to loosen.
“Haven’t had a boy in so long,” Jared whispers against Jensen’s ear, mouth kissing all up and down his neck as he pushes two fingers into him finally, fucking into him with the intent of stretching him out. “Tried to be so good. Bet you feel like heaven inside, right in here. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jensen breathes, his voice catching in his throat, hips moving to try and fuck Jared’s fingers. Jared gives him another one, stretching him out with no hesitation, prying open his scorching insides.
“Can you take care of me better than a girl? Hmm? You gonna let me fit every bit of my big dick inside of you?”
“Can you take it? Do you need it as bad as I do?”
“Yes yes yes yes, please. Fuck, please.”
Jared can’t even catch his breath now, can’t stop his nearly growling, harsh panting. He toes off his shoes, shoves his pants and briefs off before he’s ripping open the condom and fumbling it onto his dick, trying to stretch it on as far as it’ll go but it’s not quite big enough, won’t contain him. He squeezes the rest of the lube out and slicks his cock up with it, gripping hard just behind the head and slipping it between Jensen’s ass cheeks, nudging at his hole.
“Breathe,” he grits out against the back of Jensen’s neck, one hand prying his ass apart so he can watch the first time he sinks inside of him, forcing his way in, the aching sobs Jensen is letting out echoing around the room. Jared just keeps pushing, relentless and fighting for every inch, and Jensen is shaking against him, his whole body trembling when Jared gets buried in up to the root, his cock throbbing deep in Jensen’s guts, their bodies straining together hard against the door.
“Feel me deep?” Jared growls, tensing his legs and shoving in harder with his hips, grinding even deeper inside of Jensen just to feel the way he tightens up, his insides quivering so deliciously around Jared’s dick.
“Fuck me now please please fuck me please.”
It’s so beautiful, those shaking words whispered against the door, Jensen’s mouth already swollen, fat and just as red as it had been onstage, his pretty eyes closed and his lashes fluttering against his cinnamon-sprinkled cheeks. Jensen’s got one hand braced on the door to hold himself up and the other one behind him, gripping Jared’s hip hard.
Jared takes a deep breath, letting their bodies throb together for a few quiet seconds before he’s grabbing Jensen by the hips, fingers digging into his hipbones to haul him back so he can just let go, tearing into him with every single drop of incredible lust he’d been holding back since they’d first made eye contact.
Jensen’s asshole is straining around his cock, is gripping him like a hot, greedy mouth, his lube-slicked insides accepting him hungrily, letting Jared punch straight in, letting him own this new space like it’s been his for years. Jared closes his eyes, forehead pressed to the door above Jensen’s head, mouth open around sweaty strands of dark blonde, and he just listens to them, to the wet slap of their bodies, the thumping strain of them fucking against the jolting door, the deep-rooted, begging cries that he is fucking out of Jensen like Jared is working something out inside of him, loosening something up and making it feel better.
The door is creaking now, the frantic, pulsating jerks of it every time Jared’s body slams into Jensen’s smaller one almost deafening. Jared pulls him away from it and walks them a few feet over to the long counter where there’s makeup and hair products and feather boas and glitter everywhere. He throws Jensen down onto the flat surface of it, watching as Jensen lifts his head and blink around almost dumbly, like he has no idea what’s going on except that he’s being fucked, and Jared’s dick jerks hard inside of him when Jensen meets his own reflection in the mirror in front of them.
“Fuck,” Jared whispers, glancing down to watch his cock slop in and out of that hole, punching out the most gorgeous sounds from deep inside of Jensen while Jensen just sprawls there, his ass up, just taking it, one of his hands between his legs to jack his own cock. “Watch yourself. Look how fucking sexy you are while you get fucked. So fucking pretty when you take my dick, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jensen whimpers, his eyes all over their reflection, watching how his body’s curved, arched up, watching the shuddering jiggle of his ass when Jared pounds against it, watching the way Jared’s body tenses and tightens, muscles thick now, veins visible all up and down his arms. “Yeah, gonna make me come.”
“Come on my dick. Wanna see you. God, fucking watch yourself come all over it.” He rears Jensen back, lifting one of his own legs to brace his knee on the counter beside Jensen so he can get some real leverage, so he can drop his weight down and just pound him, aiming right down into his prostate and just letting him have it.
Jensen tightens around him, holding onto him so hard and so hungry and Jared just fucks right through it, gritting his teeth when Jensen starts to come, his ass coming back in search of Jared, begging for him greedily and Jared gives it to him as hard as he can, fucking him harder than he ever has anybody in his life, and Jensen’s torn-up, grateful sobs are so, so fucking worth it.
Jared watches Jensen's reflection, obsessed with the tears streaking his splotchy, glittered cheeks, with the way his mouth is open, face lax in hard-earned bliss. He runs his hands up and down Jensen’s back, reaching around to rub at his nipples, twisting them firmly between his thumbs and forefingers while he kisses at the back of Jensen’s neck, just letting Jensen writhe on his dick, letting him use it to get the last drops of his orgasm out.
He lets Jensen tug away, his cock slipping tragically out of that raw, beautiful hole, but Jensen is sliding to his knees before Jared can even draw a breath, he’s smirking at how small the condom is on Jared’s big dick and then peeling it off, getting both of his trembling hands around it and jerking Jared off, staring right up into his eyes with his own that are big and relaxed and full of fucked-out tears.
“Want you to come in my mouth. Wanna taste you for the rest of the night.” Jensen kisses at the head of his dick, that swollen mouth rubbing over the dripping slit before it wraps around him and he starts to suck. Jared groans, his balls drawing up in a painful lurch, spine tingling as his orgasm rushes toward him like a fucking freight train.
Jared cups the back of Jensen’s head, fingers almost gentle as he strokes his hair, and he can only watch open-mouthed and almost reverent while Jensen works his cock like Jared gave him the manual for it, the perfect combination of hand and lips and tongue and sucking pressure and speed and Jared has the mind to press a hand to the counter behind Jensen’s head, just making sure he doesn’t fall over before he is shooting hard into that mouth, come in thick, relieved jets into the back of his throat, and the sounds leaving Jared’s mouth are mortifying, are grateful and stunned and way, way, way too loud.
He finally strangles out a whimper when he’s had enough, when all that sweet, slowing pressure gets to be too much. Jensen pulls back with a savoring, wet pop, still giving kitten licks to his slit, like he’s trying to make sure Jared gave him every last drop.
Jared reaches for him with pleasure-dumb, heavy hands, pulling him up and sighing contentedly when their mouths meet again, both seeking and licking and drinking from each other greedily. Jared helps Jensen up onto the counter so they’re nearly the same height, and he wraps his arms around that chilly body, kissing his beautiful mouth until his lips start to feel numb.
“I need to get dressed,” Jensen whispers finally between kisses, his hands sliding up and down Jared’s upper arms. “Leslie’s gonna kill me.”
Jared breathes out a laugh, giving him one more, savoring kiss before he pulls back, pulling his clothes on in what feels like dreamy slow-motion. He picks up his tie, his jacket, and his shoes and turns to find that Jensen is dressed again in his tux, his eyeliner completely messed up, his hair sticking up ridiculously, eyes glassy from coming hard enough to nearly pass out, but he looks almost like he did the first time Jared saw him.
“Listen, I, um--”
“I want to see you again,” Jensen interrupts, fumbling on the counter and coming up with a phone. “Put your number in there and text yourself from it. I get off at eleven. I was thinking--”
“You wanna come over tonight?” Jared taps his number and his name in (which he realizes only now that Jensen still doesn’t know) and sending himself a text, the distraction of it letting him be brave enough to ask such a scary question. He lifts his eyes as he hands him the phone back, his breath held as he waits for an answer.
Jensen pockets the phone and steps in close again, pressing a hand to Jared’s wrinkled button-down and lifting up to drop a soft kiss to his mouth.
“Definitely,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet Jared’s so close, the expression in them something tender, sweet, miles away from the smirking, sassy boy Jared had first seen. He grins against Jensen’s mouth, giving him one final kiss before he lets him go with a sigh.
“Text me, okay? I’ll wait for you.” I’ll have to tell Stacey that I’m completely done with her, that I don’t want to go on any more boring dates with her and let her critique my every move, but I’ll survive somehow.
Jensen just smiles, giving a little nod and reaching up to open the door for Jared, both of them leaning forward at the same time to steal one more kiss before Jared’s slipping out, the door closing again behind him.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath that he lets out in a sigh, savoring the feel and taste and smell and idea of that beautiful boy just a minute longer. He turns around and opens his eyes, about to start back down the hallway and toward the party when he realizes they’ve gathered an audience, a good ten or fifteen people crowded around outside the door and just staring at him, all wide-eyed and very clearly turned on because they just heard the two most well-matched human beings ever born have the world’s best fifteen minute fuck session.
“I was, um. I was returning his clothes.” He doesn’t think about what he looks like, that his hair is a knotted, insane mess, that his shirt is buttoned up wrong and his shoes are dangling from his fingers and that he has glitter on every possible inch of his body. He just takes a deep breath and walks into the crowd and through it, shuffling down the hallway in his socked feet.
The group behind him erupts with applause and cheers, and he can’t help but grin.
That did kinda deserve some applause.