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Halloween Heat

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Jensen cursed at the total absence of light in the closet as his back bumped into metal shelving, causing various unknown items to rock noisily. He managed to stay upright due to Jared's hands holding onto him, digging long fingers into Jensen's biceps. He craned his neck and found himself pressed against Jared's face—he could tell by the pointy nose that stabbed his cheek—and then their mouths found each other and everything else ceased to matter.

He almost hadn't come to Jason's Halloween party. Costumes seemed so juvenile at the lofty age of seventeen. But there wasn't a lot else going on in their small town, and besides...he was pretty certain that Jared would be there. Plus there was the whole not-a-lot-else-going-on thing.

Jared.

Jared Padalecki, intriguingly attractive, ridiculously built; a deadly combination of humor, sunshine, candy, and raw sex appeal. Ever since he'd walked into Jensen's homeroom, Jensen had dreamed about him. Then he'd beat off to those dreams, and afterwards he'd laid there in his own sweaty, come-streaked sheets and dreamed some more.

Jared had finally kissed him one day in art class. They were working on a photo project in pairs, and—cloistered in the darkroom—Jared had kissed him. The taste of his mouth, the pressure of those candy-pink lips, rendered Jensen speechless for the rest of the class. And hard for the rest of the afternoon.

No one kissed like Jared; no one else had the same mix of passion, heat, and tongue. Jensen, currently rendered blind by the darkness inside the closet, surrendered to the rest of his senses. He opened his jaw further to Jared, offering himself up, allowing Jared to plunder his mouth at will. Every swipe of Jared's tongue, every press of his lips, inflamed Jensen, goaded him on to further passion, urged his cock to greater hardness; tantalizing Jensen until he stopped conscious thought altogether and simply ran on desire and instinct.

He groped his way down Jared's body, his hands squeezing all those muscular curves through dark spandex. Only playful Jared would dress up as a skeleton, with a black spandex top and black tights, all artistically—if not realistically—painted with white bones. Jared was big and tall, and being covered by black spandex left little room for imagination, as every bulge of muscle and flesh was clearly delineated. God forbid Jared get an erection in public. Or maybe that was part of the costume's appeal.

Pressed tightly against Jared in the closet, it was very easy to feel his erection. Jensen could clearly feel the swell of it against his thigh, could run his hand over it and discern the hard length of Jared's cock. Jensen's was slightly more camouflaged under his ripped jeans. The rips were smeared with fake blood, and Jensen's shirt was likewise ripped, with some very artistic intestines attached to the midsection of the shirt. His face was thickly made up in zombie white and pale green, with an undertone of light blue for that extra-dead look, and crimson bloody smears around the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck, you're so hot, even as a zombie,” muttered Jared, hands clutching Jensen's zombie-ratty hair. Jensen had figured that zombies didn't have much use for combs or hair products.

“Never thought I'd wanna bang a bag of bones,” replied Jensen, snickering. Jared pinched his nipple through his shirt and he yelped.

“Just for that, I want you to blow me, zombie boy.” Jared pushed at Jensen's head with one hand, apparently bracing himself against the wall with the other, judging by his shifting around. “Gonna stuff my cock down your throat.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” replied Jensen, his mouth watering at the thought of Jared's fat dick in it. He managed to get on his knees in the small closet, squeezing Jared's thighs (fuck, did the guy run everywhere? His thighs were like rock.) The closet was still too void of light to see anything, but Jensen located Jared's cock by touch—that was a hardship all right—and he got his mouth on it. He hadn't even pulled the stupid tights down yet, he just started sucking and tonguing it through the nylon. The thing was a monster (Jensen snickered to himself, good one) but Jesus, it felt so good under his lips.

Jensen kept playing with it through the fabric, gently running his teeth over the bulging head, suckling the moisture seeping through the spandex as Jared started leaking. It was fun for a bit, teasing Jared through the tights, but Jensen finally pulled the material down below Jared's balls and got serious. He was ready for the main course, unimpeded by any obstacle. He lapped and sucked like a damn hungry dog, he was so turned on with this glorious prick in his mouth, weighty and huge. He wrapped his hand around the base and bobbed his head, his lips sealed tightly about the rigid shaft. Jared's pre-come exploded on his tongue, salty and bitter and delicious, and Jensen lapped that up too.

“Fuckin' killing me here,” Jared groaned. He'd already been moaning, but now his hips bucked and his cock twitched under Jensen's lips. Still sucking and slurping, Jensen used his other hand to cradle Jared's heavy balls, rolling them around on his palm and gently squeezing them. Pulling off Jared's dick, Jensen moved his mouth down to those fat balls, running his tongue around them, sucking on each one, and then trying to cram both of them into his mouth. Jared whined loudly, his hips jerking, one hand clenched in Jensen's hair.

Jensen released Jared's sac, gasping for air. His lips felt swollen, and his saliva coated his chin. Grabbing Jared's dick again, Jensen rubbed it all over his lips and chin, reveling the slick friction. His own dick was clamoring for attention, but he ignored it for the moment, totally focused on getting Jared off first. Jensen gripped Jared's cock hard, poking his tongue into the slit and running it underneath the cap. A few firm strokes, a little more hollow-cheeked sucking, and Jared blew like a dam bursting, his cock convulsing, sending come spraying wildly and landing on Jensen's face in hot splatters.

“Fuck...” gasped Jared, breathing hard like he'd just run a race. “Your fucking mouth, Jen, god.” He trailed a finger down Jensen's cheek, chuckling when it hit a smear of come. “Marked you...now I own you.”

“Fuck you,” Jensen panted. He was still hard; he'd been too distracted with blowing Jared to pay attention to his own climax. Now he reached down and ripped his fly open, freeing his dick—feeling as hard as an iron bar now—and wrapped his hand around it. Pre-come oozed from the tip, and he quickly rubbed his palm over it for a semblance of lubrication, along with the spit and come from Jared's dick. “Gotta...fuck, I gotta come, Jay. It's killin' me, feelin' you come like that--m'balls are aching like a bitch.” He frantically jerked himself with one messy hand, using the other to roam over Jared's chest, rubbing that smooth skin and pinching his tight little nipples. Jared's tiny gasps and starts from those pinches jolted straight into Jensen's balls like shocks, rebounding his excitement and sending him that much higher until he thought he was going to hit the ceiling of the cramped closet.

One last pinch of a nipple and Jared fucking growled, a low, guttural sound that punched Jensen in between his legs; it made his cock spasm uncontrollably, spurting and dribbling come over his hand and god knew where else. He couldn't think, could only hang on to his dick and squeeze the remains of his orgasm out, vaguely aware that he was chanting Jared's name along with “fuck, fuck, fuck...” If he hadn't already been kneeling on the hard wood floor, he would have collapsed to the ground, his legs kitten-weak, his muscles lax and spent.

They stayed there for what must have been several minutes, if guessing by the sense of time passing, both of them too drained to move. The closet air was redolent with their release--a dense, cloying scent with notes of sweat, cologne, and pancake make-up. Jensen thought it was the best thing he'd ever smelled. He rested his head on Jared's knee, leaving it pillowed there while he tried to bring his breathing back under control, his cock softening in his hand.

Finally Jensen tucked himself back into his clothes, wiping his sticky hand with his shirt-tail. Gripping Jared's thigh, Jensen managed to pull himself up to standing. “Well, guess we oughta see what's happening out there,” he said, his voice sounding thin and odd to himself. The music and sounds of the party, muted by the closet door, were more evident than they'd been just a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” sighed Jared. “Lemme just, uh, get myself together here.” Jensen felt Jared stand up, heard the faint snap of the tights' elastic waistband as Jared pulled the back up. “Okay, I'm good to go.”

“Wait! What if I still have come on my face?” Panic grabbed Jensen by the throat, making it hard to breathe. “What are we going to do?”

“Calm down!” Jared began patting Jensen's face lightly, his fingertips skimming over Jensen's skin. “I'll check you over, okay?”

Jensen relaxed, partly from Jared's checking and party from the soothing feel of his fingertips brushing over Jensen's face. He closed his eyes dreamily, lost in the pleasant sensation.

“Okay, I think you're good. I only felt one little spot and I wiped it off with my thumb.”

“Thanks...just didn't want to advertise, you know?” Jensen laughed nervously, mentally kicking himself for the faint note of hysteria. “Okay, let's go.”

Jared sidled out of the doorway first. Jensen counted to ten, then followed. He tried to move casually, like he'd been there all along. Fortunately, everyone was dancing or talking, and no one seemed to really notice that someone had just emerged from the closet.

Jensen sighed with relief, wending his way to the kitchen where the keg was sitting in a large plastic tub of ice. He grabbed a plastic cup and poured himself a beer, taking a large gulp while he looked around for where Jared had gone. Suds slopped from his cup when someone jostled his arm, and he yelped.

Jason stood next to him, laughing. “What's the matter, goo-brain, can't a zombie hold his beer?”

“Hey, jerkface. Great party.”

“Yeah, I'm the man.” Jason grinned. “So, you seen Jared?”

Jensen cleared his throat self-consciously. “Uh, tonight? Think I saw him around.”

Jason snickered. “Yeah, looks like skeleton-boy had already had himself a good time.” He elbowed Jensen. “A real good time.”

“What, uh...what do you mean?” Jensen clutched his beer a little tighter, the cup crinkling slightly in his grip.

“Someone done skull-fucked Skeletor, that's what I mean.” Jason smirked.

“How do you—did he say that?”

“Naw, man. Go on out there and see for yourself.” Jason clapped him on the back and went to refill his cup.

Jensen hurried to the living room, wondering anxiously what Jason meant. He stood off to the side, scanning the room. Jared was visible right away, being half a head taller than anyone else. Jensen could see the people around Jared snickering and giggling. He moved closer, trying to figure out what they were reacting to.

A couple moved away and Jensen got a clear sightline to Jared. And holy hummer, he saw right away what Jason meant.

All around Jared's crotch, glaringly apparent against the black tights, were smears of white and light green make-up, with smaller dabs of red dotted here and there. It was completely evident that someone's face had rubbed all over Jared's dick. Meanwhile, Jared was talking and drinking, clearly oblivious to his appearance or the amused people around him.

Jason appeared next to him again. “Say, that looks kinda like your make-up, doesn't it, zombie-boy?” He winked at Jensen.

“What the fuck do you know about make-up?” snarked Jensen, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. “Got some coupons for Maybelline? Guess you ain't born with it then.”

Jason cracked up, Jensen laughing nervously along, grateful he'd distracted his friend. He pulled out his phone and texted Jared.

Dude! Check out your tights

He watched Jared retrieve his phone and read Jensen's text. Jared looked down at himself, then threw his head back and laughed. He punched in a text and looked over at Jensen expectantly.

So wanna see how much more you can dirty me up?

Jensen grinned. Someone bumped his arm, and he looked up and saw Jared smiling at him.

“C'mon!” Jared swaggered toward the door.

Jensen followed eagerly.