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Rough Service

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Walking from the garage to his work truck, Jared knew he wasn’t going to have a light day today.  Yesterday had been too quiet, one job on a site just outside of town, and then back to the garage all day, punch out at 5:30.  Easy, simple, done. Home by 5:45, just long enough to beat Jensen home and give him a hard, wet kiss the second he’d walked in the door.  So far as Tuesdays go, it had been one of the best he’d had in recent memory. Jensen’s case of microbrew had arrived at his office that afternoon, and thanks to the Yeti cooler he keeps in the bed of his Silverado, they had been nice and cold enough to wash down the catfish Jared had fried for dinner.

“Fuck me.”  Jared gets in his truck, double checking that he read the tickets on his clipboards correctly - seven.  Seven tickets, all on something bigger than a generator, because of course. There’s a bulldozer out in Newton that needs a plug (relatively simple, if it’s a newer model,) a grapple skitter in Reagan that isn’t starting for some reason (Jared’s counting on dead battery) and the rest if more or less in between.

It’s not that he doesn’t love his job, truly - he’s always loved working with his hands.  Shop class and all that in high school had been his favorites, even though he could always debate just fine in English and history.  Jensen had been the one aiming for the tie, the press of hands, the popularity - and that’s fine. It works fantastically for him.

But Jared likes to get dirty, and the metaphorical mudslinging his husband does in the courtroom isn’t for him.

Jared smirks, thinking about how when he’d left an hour early that morning, Jensen had been pumping himself up in the mirror, preparing his defense already.  Jared hadn’t even interrupted his flow, just given him a kiss to the back of his head and a sharp, short smack to that perfect ass. God damn if Jensen doesn’t know how to make a pair of fucking dress slacks work.  Black looks good, but slate grey looks even better.

He isn’t exactly sorry that he has to keep buying him new pants, either, not when Jensen looks too fucking irresistible in them that Jared can’t help but tear them off.

Newton is the farthest he’s got to drive today, so he puts on some Randy Travis and belts along with him, windows down and hair flying.  There isn’t a ton of traffic out on the road just yet, but enough to where he has to pay at least some attention to what’s going on around him.

Thirty minutes later, he’s rolling up the dusty path smoothed out to the construction site, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him.  Jared is the only other person there at this hour, aside from the site super - he’s met him a few times before, solid, friendly guy named Ron.

Ron nods in greeting as Jared walks up, toolbox and computer in hand.  “Sorry to get you out here so early, Jay, but I’m behind already.”

Jared shrugs with one shoulder and returns his nod.  “Good thing I’m an early riser. Think you can tell me a little more?  You know how the tickets are when they aren’t sent in by the same people every time…”

Ten minutes later, and Jared’s hands are already covered in grease, the dozer’s hood thrown open.  Jared hums “Deeper Than The Holler” while he works, thinking about Jensen’s pretty, fresh-shaved face - he considers it good luck to shave on court days, and Jared did have enough time to make doubly sure, running his fingers and two-day beard over that freshly smooth jaw.  Then there had been two minutes of intense, wet making out against the sink, Jared’s hands full of Jensen’s towel-clad ass.  Had it not been for the damned good fuck they’d had the night before, Jared’s pretty sure he could have gone again; experience has shown them that yes, the sink can bear Jensen’s weight so long as Jared does some of the lifting.

Five years of marriage and Jared’s still just as hot for him now as he was then, courtroom savvy and witty as hell, keeping Jared laughing even in the middle of the nastiest, sweatiest sex.  Christ, he loves him, and it’s ultimately getting to come home to him that keeps Jared going on the long ass days like this. Growing up together, Jared had always known that Jensen was it for him, even through school and disastrous attempts to date other people.

Jared doesn’t dwell on it too much, because other people don’t bear thinking about, not now.  His coworkers give him grief every now and then when he can’t help but grin when Jensen sends him a message.  That’s how it’s supposed to feel, right?

Maybe there’s something to thinking about his husband that makes him work better, because it isn’t too much longer before the dozer is purring pretty, and Jared’s having to cover his goofy smile up behind the stern, manly-man expectation of a construction site.

Ron comes towards him, a blessed cup of coffee in hand.  “She sounds beautiful - think it’ll hold?”

Jared gratefully accepts the caffeine and gestures to the smokestack, soft, black puffs emitting from the end.  “I’d say that’s a pretty good indicator - but if it messes up again, you know where to find me.”

Ron pats him on the shoulder and goes to greet his crew, leaving Jared to move on to the next job.  A dump truck three miles down the road, needing a hydraulics check. Jesus, Jared just hopes that whatever it is it’s locked in the “down” position, because getting crushed by the dump bed of an Aeromax isn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

Randy picks up singing right where he left off, and Jared checks his phone.  One message from his mom asking about the work socks he got for his birthday, and one from Jensen.

Alright, navy blue isn’t quite the same as grey but the cut of the suit he’s wearing today is sharp, showing off his powerful thighs and enhancing those deep green eyes.

You look good enough to eat ;)

Jared doesn’t expect a reply back anytime soon, but there’s no reason he can’t think about messing up that perfectly coifed hair when he gets home.

___

 

By midday, Jared has started to sweat so much that his tank top and work shirt have pretty much become one garment.  It’s a bright, cloudless day, one that leaves the sun beating down on the back of his neck hard enough that he’s regretting not wearing a hat.  Easiest thing to do would be to let his hair back down out of its low ponytail but he’d much rather deal with the sunburn than feel the heat trapped under it.

 

The skitter in Reagan had indeed been a dead battery, and by the time Jared had left, he’s managed to juice it back up enough to where he could let the crew leave it idling to charge instead of sitting there with it.  Thank God for industrial strength chargers, or Jared wouldn’t have gotten anything else done that day.

Right now he’s elbow deep in one of those miniature cement mixers, the engine panel pulled off and several of its major component laying on the ground next to him.  He’s still thinking about that photo of Jensen from earlier, even if it is one of thousands he’s got of his husband. He just can’t get over how fucking pretty he looks today, so perfectly done up and ready to argue before the stand.

He still hasn’t replied back, so Jared figures he can get away with a picture of his own.  He sets down his wrench and wipes his hands on his pants (not that is does much good, as they’re just as dirty as the rest of him) and fishes his phone out of his pocket.  He doesn’t have much time to come up with anything terribly creative, so he unbuttons down to his chest and lets the sweat dripping down the dip at his collarbone and into his hairy pecs do the work for him.  He can’t help but laugh at how the dirt on his face accentuates his cheek bones, and anybody in their right mind wouldn’t look twice at him right now and try to jump him. Yeah, his deodorant is working overtime right now but it isn’t exactly stopping the rest of him from getting nasty.

Of course, most people aren’t Jensen.  Most people don’t have a thing for grease-covered fingers and work-rough palms.  Most people certainly don’t get much out of sweaty pits and shirts clinging to work-worn muscles.

Jensen, thank the Good Lord above, has all of those kinks and then some.  Jared throws in a couple of different angles, making sure his pecs are popped as much as he can make them.  He feels frankly ridiculous, but if it gets his husband all hot and bothered, then he’ll gladly indulge in a little bit of vanity for him.

Jared’s phone buzzes the second he picks up his wrench.

Hi, it seems like some model got a hold of my husband’s phone and sent me porn - could you please give it back to him?

Right behind it, a photo of Jensen behind his desk in the courthouse, phone discreetly angled down to show him grabbing his bulge.  Jared knows damn well he’s got court in five minutes, but right now he’d love nothing more than to help him take care of that hard-on.

Maybe if you ask nicely.

Jared’s smiling wickedly as he gets back to work, getting turned on over making Jensen all hot and bothered.  He reaches down and cups himself for just a second, imagining Jensen’s warm, strong fingers around him, milking his cock over his open mouth.  It takes a lot of his willpower to not stroke himself for a few seconds through his pants, just a little something to get the fire going enough so that when he gets home, he can plow Jensen through the bed.

Or wall, or couch, or any of the twenty other conveniently flat surfaces on which they fuck.  When they’re that horny, safety kind of takes a backseat. Besides, they’ve found this really, really good furniture cleaner that removes come stains from upholstery fairly well.  So what if they buy it from the sex shop, it’s not like it isn’t useful.

Jared stops himself when he realizes he can feel dampness on his leg that isn’t sweat, and he mournfully pulls his hand away and gets back to work.  God, Jensen is going to fucking get it when he gets home, and he has half a mind to tell him to be ready when he gets there.

Only this is only his fourth stop and who knows how much longer the rest of them will take, and he’s obligated to take a lunch break in their somewhere.  Jamie might be a tough boss but it’s not like he doesn’t want his employees to starve, either.

Thinking about food does turn his thoughts away from his husband for a few minutes at least, instead focusing on the roast beef sandwich he’d made from the roast Jensen cooked up over the weekend.  He didn’t realize that it had been over six hours since breakfast, and the minute he’s done putting this mixer back together he’s definitely chowing down.

More than that, he really wants one of Jensen’s beers to wash it down with - that stuff had been damn good.  Drinking on the job isn’t strictly against the rules but he knows far better than to risk mixing booze with losing a hand - or worse.  Jared’s been exceptionally lucky, because most of his coworkers have broken something along the way and so far, he’s escaped injury.

He tries not to think about it, not when there are far more promising things on the horizon.

The mixer is working again in half an hour, and Jared sits down gratefully on the tailgate of his truck, tossing his head back and shrugging off his work shirt so that his body can feel the breeze that’s picked up.  He watches the construction crew, marking off places for steel beams and plumbing. He never did much envy those who actually did the work itself - taking care of stuff at home is more than enough. He doesn’t have to stick around for the heavy lifting, just do his job and leave once whatever machine is purring.

Speaking of purring, he figures one selfie of him with his arm behind his head and his pits shown to the world for Jensen won’t exactly hurt his chances.  He does a quick check to make sure no one’s looking, pulls out his phone, and snaps off three, making sure Jensen gets a good fucking look at how his pit hair is stuck to his skin, biceps pumped streaked with dirt.

It’s not quite as good as a dick pic, but if Jared hauls it out right now, he’s going to be late for the next job.  Satisfied that Jensen will be sufficiently hot for him when he sees those, he puts his shirt back on (unbuttoned,) tosses the remains of his lunch, and motors on.

How long can it take to change the headlights on a quarry-size dump truck anyway?

 

                                ____

 

It’s well past sundown by the time Jared pulls into their driveway, yawning, filthy, and absurdly horny.  Jensen had sent back more photos that if they ever fell into the wrong hands, would almost certainly kicked out of the courthouse - not that Jared has any intentions of sharing, but Jensen is fucking hard to beat at taking ass pics.

 

He’s already palming himself through his dirt-streaked pants as he opens the door, empty lunchbox in his other hand, hoping to find Jensen naked and waiting for him.

 

It’s so, so much better than that when he walks into the kitchen and finds his husband still lawyered up, suit hanging on his body as if God Himself had tailored it.  Jared licks his lips, fingers itching to touch and hold.

“Was wondering when you'd be home.”. Jensen doesn’t turn around, but does offer his neck as Jared closes in from behind, hands on Jensen’s hips and his mouth against the shell of his left ear.

“I was gonna ask why you put the suit back on.”  Jared mouths at Jensen’s earlobe, enjoying the sharp little breath he draws in as he bites down, flicking his tongue over warm, soft flesh.

 

“Always thought it’s best to unwrap gifts.”. Jensen doesn’t even try to hold himself back from grinding against Jared’s cock, hot enough through his pants that Jared’s getting a whole hell of a lot lf heat transfer.  “Not much thought in just handing someone a gift without a little presentation.”

Jared hums his agreement, hands sliding up that pristine, blue pastel Men’s Wearhouse button down, leaving dirt and fingerpints in their wake.  “Do I have to take off all the wrapping?”. God, Jensen’s hot under his touch, palms ghosting over his nipples as he heads towards his jaw.

“Just make sure you… Christ. Jared, stop fuckin’ teasing.” Jensen’s voice pitches higher, pinned against the counter and completely unable to move.  “And don't tell me you aren't.”

                Jared chuckles, right against Jensen's neck, hands re-settling on his hips.  “You know I gotta mess you up a little first.” It's part of the dance, one that gets perfected that much further every time they take to the floor.  Jared loves it, getting his smart-mouthed, law-savvy husband to the point of begging - because Jensen Padalecki doesn't fucking beg.

                  Jensen doesn't exactly seem to care that his shirt is getting messed up and that his fingers are greasy now too, their fingers intertwined over Jensen’s belly.   Jared grinds slow and dirty against Jensen’s ass, dropping more scruffy kisses down the side of his neck.

               “Jay, fuck, I’m already…” Jensen finally has enough of him, and with a growl turns around and shoves Jared backwards, pinning him to the opposite wall and putting his hands above his head.

             “There he is,” Jared says, biting back into the hard kiss Jensen is doing his best to give him.  Jensen kicks his legs open and pulls Jared down, rubbing his thigh against his cock, getting Jared even harder.

            “Would have been here sooner had you not been fucking around.”   Jensen takes Jared left hand and pushes it as high as he can get it, leaving Jared’s shirt hanging open.  “Can't come home lookin’ like this and not expect me to want you the second you walk in the door.”

             Jared has to swallow a moan as Jensen licks up the curve of his pec, immediately going for the hot, sensitive flesh of his pit.  “And you know how much I like getting you going.”

              “Think I did a pretty good job of it myself already.”  Jensen keeps Jared’s left arm high above his head and grabs his right, tongue eating the absolute fuck out of his pit while he slides Jared's hand down the back of his pants.

               Jared feels the slickness before his brain realizes just what the hell it is he’s feeling, and he explores for a couple more seconds before it finally registers with him that not only is Jensen lubed up but already gaping for him.

             Overtime and his husband's ready hole - Jared will gladly take the trade off for a long ass day.  He gives Jensen a little more access, getting his arm free to bend it behind his head, Jensen’s hands busy with getting both of their pants off at the same time.

           Jensen gets out of his first, dropping them along with his  briefs to the floor. Jared gives up fingering him open further to stroke Jensen’s cock, Coke-can thick and leaking heavily.  Jared turns his hand and rubs his palm right over his slit, circling so that every rough, hard part of his hand drags Jensen closer, moaning into his chest.

          “Really starting to regret showing you that move.”  Jensen loosens Jared's ponytails and gets his fingers in his hair, his belt and pants finally undone.  Jared manages to get them down around his thighs, boxer briefs bulging and a damp spot soaking the cotton right at the head.  

          “And you'll tell me to stop when you don't want me to do it anymore.”  Jared strokes him from the underside, his long fingers fondling his balls on every downstroke.  Jensen thrusts into his grip, shuddering every time Jared’s fingers curl around his glans.

          “Fuck, Jay, just… Fuck me already, been dyin’ for it all fucking day.” Jensen sucks Jared's lower lip into his mouth, moaning as Jared lets go of his cock and goes back to his ass, rubbing his hole.

           Jared turns Jensen around and pulls his underwear down to his thighs, rucking Jensen’s shirt up to mid back and teasing his hole with his cock.  “Fuck, Jensen, so fucking stretched.”   Jared has to feel him one more time, watch how his grease and oil blackened fingers contrast with the gorgeous pink of his hole.

         “You gonna fuck me or am I gonna have to lube up again?”  Jensen rocks back on what little bit Jared is giving him, eager and desperate - hell, Jared can't do it anymore, he’s got to have him now.

          He wraps his arm around Jensen's chest and draws him close, slicking up his cock with the precome dripping from his husband’s dick, and slowly, carefully fills him up, face buried in Jensen’s neck.

          “Wanted you so goddamn bad today baby.”. Jared inhales their combined scents, his all sweat and dirt and faded sun, Jensen smelling of leather and the mildly citrus cologne he favors.  Jared could get high off of it, how perfectly they mix together. Jensen doesn’t have anything to hold on to, his hands around Jared’s forearm where he’s braced against his chest.

“Show me, Jay, c’mon.”

Jared turns them so that Jensen can hug the wall if he needs to, his cock still buried deep in Jensen’s ass.  He kisses the nape of his neck and starts to piston his hips, reaching for Jensen’s left hand and rubbing his ring finger, right below the pretty gold band that matches Jared’s own.  Slipping that ring onto Jensen’s finger had taken their sex life between fucking fantastic to nearly hyperactive, and Jared goes for it every chance he can.  His friends had told him that he’d get tired of tapping the same piece of ass every day for the rest of his life, that he’d get bored.

Maybe it’s just the way he’s wired, but Jared’s still having trouble believing he’s fucking married to him in the first place.

Jensen can’t stop moaning his nick name, chanting Jay, Jay, Jay, like a litany in some cathedral of debauchery.  Jared can’t say a word back to him, just grips his hips tighter, leaving huge, dirty handprints that will show red later after they wash up, his shirt a wrinkled, oil-covered mess.  Jensen doesn’t fucking care, and Jared doesn’t either.

“Fuck, Jared, fuck me, c’mon, fill me up with that big fuckin’ cock.”  Jensen manages to lean back and get his fingers in Jared’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss that’s no finesse and all hunger, one that he’ll make up to Jensen after they’re done and neither of them can move for being completely fucked out.

“Yeah, baby, I fuckin’ got you, don’t worry.”  Jared can’t care enough to be embarrassed about his drawl coming out, not when Jensen’s hanging on to his syllables like he’s drunk and clutching the lightpole outside Natty Grant’s.  God, how many fucks have started as foreplay in that bar, either with a look or Jensen feeling him up under the table.

Jared bites down into Jensen’s left shoulder, hard enough that the shirt will bear teethmarks permanently.  He speeds up, fucking him so hard that sweat flies every time his hips connect with Jensen’s body, balls drawn up tight around the base of his cock.  Jensen doesn’t even have a hand on himself, holding on to either Jared or the wall, cock leaking like crazy. Jared gathers some of it up and feeds to to Jensen, feeling those hot, wet lips and tongue slide over his dark fingers, his orgasm getting that much closer as Jensen laps up the taste of his own body and the sweat of work.

“Fuck, Jensen, baby, keep doin’ that.”  Jared’s close, enough that it’s getting difficult to concentrate on fucking properly and just chase his own orgasm, trying hard not to think about how Jensen’s going to be dripping for hours afterwards.  “Fuckin’ love it when you suck my fingers.”

Jensen looks back over his shoulder, sweat dripping off of his face, eyes huge with desire.  “Keep fuckin’ me and I’ll finish sucking every goddamn drop out of you.”

It’s that dirty, dirty mouth that sends Jared over the edge, and Jensen gets pinned to the wall as he crashes forward in the middle of his orgasm, fucking through the end of it until he’s fused to Jensen’s back, feeling the wet, slick mess of come and lube dripping out of his husband’s body and down his legs.

“I… fuck, Jensen, I’m…”  Jared pulls himself off and tugs Jensen upright, reaching for his cock to finish him off and try to make up for probably breaking his nose.

“Shh, Jay, ‘m fine.”  He guides Jared’s hand, making him stroke slow, milking it out until he comes messily all over Jared’s fingers and the wall, Jared’s cock still buried to the hilt in him.  Jared groans as he feels Jensen’s muscles contract around him, oversensitive as fuck, his body pushing out the last vestiges of stress from getting home so late.

Jensen lets Jared’s cock slip out and gets to his knees, stroking him gently to get out those last few drops of come before taking the head into his mouth, pulling his foreskin all the way back and sucking until Jared has to close his legs to him, pulling Jensen to his feet and putting his arms around him.

“Sorry if I ruined another shirt.”  He’s buzzing with satiation right now, kissing and swapping the taste of come and salt, unhurried and soft.  “And also about getting so rough with you.”

Jensen laughs, flushed pink with the high of orgasm and probably a million other things that neither of them will ever really be able to find adequate words for.  “Jay, that’s bullshit - you know I don’t mind.” He kisses him again, with just enough bite to make Jared think about round two before they go to bed. “Like I’m gonna pass up the chance to get mauled by hot tradie husband.”

“Tradies are Australian, babe.”

“Australian, Texan, doesn’t matter - working men are hot.”  Jensen reinforces his point by reaching down and stroking their cocks together, thick enough to where he can’t quite get his fingers around them, even mostly soft.  “Can’t help I have a kink.”

“So you keep me around just because of the uniform?”

“Totally it - mind if we shower before I call and order dinner?”  Jensen’s already stepping out of his soiled pants, leaving him in nothing but his dress shirt and socks - with braces.

Jared tries not to focus on how much of a thing that could be for him, and starts to follow him to the bathroom.  “So long as you order get double eggrolls.”

“Jay, after that big sexy hello, I’m pretty sure you’re entitled to anything you want.”

Thing is, all he ever really wants is Jensen.

But that third eggroll well and truly does hit the fucking spot.

Chapter Text

 At 5:30 sharp, Jensen’s alarm shrieks and it's only with great effort that he manages to get up, cross the room, and shut it off.   He’d been dead asleep, dreaming of nothing at all and more or less wedged under Jared’s heavy, warm left arm. He’d been so deep in REM that he hadn’t even felt Jared roll over and blanket him.  Then again, Jared could sleep through a nuclear explosion, much less an early morning alarm.

            He stumbles to the bathroom and relieves himself, sighing gratefully with the relief in pressure.  He and Jared had gone to Natty Grant’s last night with some of Jared’s buddies from work, their traditional Friday night ritual, one that's been in place since…

            Wait, Friday - which means today is Saturday.  Jensen’s relief multiplies by ten as he finishes up and tucks himself back into his briefs (Armani, black very form fitting and comfortable) and flushes, smiling that he gets to lay back down and catch a couple more hours before they finally roll out of bed.  Even when they try to sleep in, they end up being early risers most of the time anyway. 8:00 am court times and even earlier than that for Jared some days means that sunrise is their best friend most of the time.

But on Saturdays?  Jensen is going to take the time for himself and make sure that he gets as much quality time with his husband as possible.

The sun isn’t quite up yet as Jensen comes back to lay down next to Jared, still on his side with his arm draped over Jensen’s pillow.  His hair covers his face , moving gently with with every exhalation. Jensen goes over to the window and opens the blinds just enough so that as the sun does come up, he doesn’t have to turn the light on to see.  He slides back under Jared’s arm and tries to close his eyes, enjoying the heat coming off his husband’s body.

Jared had shaved last night before they went out, his beard streaked with oil and grit - even though Jared looks fucking hot as shit when he comes in all work worn and dirty, Jensen can definitely understand wanting to get bearing grease out of your scruff.  Not that it matters, because Jared’s jawline shouldn’t have to hide. Yeah the burn is nice between his legs when Jared eats him out but it won’t be long before it’s back to full glory. With or without a beard, Jared’s still the most beautiful man he’s ever set eyes on, and there’s still just a little disbelief that Jensen’s the one he picked to wake up next to every day.

Jensen pushes Jared’s hair back from his face and runs his fingers over his jaw, stopping just short of the corner of his mouth.   Jared’s mouth opens just slightly, the muscles reacting to the soft touch. When he’s out like this, Jared looks so gentle that it’s hard to believe he plays with enormous pieces of equipment for a living, like he should be baking peach pies and walking a fuck ton of dogs every day.

Of course, he is gentle.  Even when he gets rough and mouthy during sex, Jensen knows fucking well it’s just for him, to set a mood and get them both what they want.  Jensen loves the slow times, the sweet, soft kisses and roaming hands that leave him aching for more. That’s how it had been at the bar last night, one hand for his beer glass, the other linked with Jared’s under the table or resting on his thigh.  That Jensen had managed to not constantly be sneaking a squeeze of his ass or bulge was nothing short of a miracle, given that Jared’s dark blue jeans had looked like they’d been fucking painted on and his black muscle tee kept riding up to flash his lower back.   Loosened up by the company of friends and good beer, and Jensen just barely managed to wait to get home before going down on Jared on the couch.

That neither of them had managed to finish wasn’t a testament to lack of stamina or attraction - Jared had been fucking wiped when he’d gotten home, and Jensen’s voice was bordering on completely gone from arguing his case all day.  As soon as Jared’s awake, he’s going to make it up to him in as glorious, sloppy-wet fashion as he can.

Jared hums in his sleep, snuggling closer to Jensen and pulling him more towards him.  Jensen has to bite back a smile, their knees bumping under the covers. Jensen kind of wishes he was awake now, just so that he could feel it the second Jensen swallows his cock.  An orgasm first thing means Jared’s pretty much wrapped around his finger the rest of the day, and that normally entails a lot of skin-on-skin contact and shirtless football in the park.  Technically a three man team, if Titan’s up to running after the football when Jared throws it.

Jensen can’t help but laugh at just how much the dog is like Jared, smiling and soft as can be.   It’s weird he isn’t barking to be let out yet, but even he knows that Dad gets his rest on Saturday morning.

That doesn’t mean he’s got to know that at least one of them is awake.

Jensen scoots a little closer and rubs noses with Jared, his hand wondering down his body to run his fingers over his ribcage and around his back, finishing right above the waistband of his Saxx.  That Jared has to buy underwear just to give his cock extra support both amuses and turns him on to no end.

All it takes is one shift of his leg for Jensen to feel just how hard Jared’s morning wood is, tenting out the right side of his underwear.  There’s no rule against feeling each other up when they’re asleep, and Jensen is more than happy to give whatever Jared’s dreaming about a little extra dimension.

The angle is awkward to try and get a decent grip, so Jensen rolls Jared over onto his back and pulls the covers down, his husband still dead asleep.  Jensen props up on his side and scritches his fingers through Jared's chest hair, Playgirl-spread perfect coverage and surprisingly soft to the touch. He leans down and licks his right nipple, hardening under his tongue.

There’s no way he’s going back to sleep now, not when he’s got unrestricted access to Jared's body and absolutely nowhere to be.

“Can't wait to rock your fuckin’ world Jay.”   Jensen kisses his jaw and slides his hand down Jared’s abs, hard and cut just like the rest of him until he’s skimming his waistband, pausing just to make sure that he hasn’t suddenly awakened.

If anything, Jared’s breathing gets even deeper and Jensen takes that as his go ahead, slipping his hand into Jared’s boxer briefs and making his best effort not to moan when he finds his husband not only hard but wet.

There’s no sense in doing this covertly, and it doesn’t take all that much effort to get Jared’s underwear down and his cock out.  Hell, a cock like Jared has should be on display, if only for Jensen.  He doesn’t want to use the phrase “porn star hung” because Jared is so, so much more than what’s between his legs but goddamn if Jensen doesn’t get a whole fucking lot of enjoyment out of  Jared’s size, leaving him sore as hell every time yes but the satisfaction in knowing he can take it more than makes up for the discomfort afterwards.

That and standing before the judge in court, knowing he’s aching because he got fucked good and deep the night before is so fucking worth it.  

Jensen resists tasting Jared’s precome for the moment, moving more by feeling than sight to stroke Jared as he likes, slow, long, jerks that starts at the base of his cock and go right to the tip, his foreskin covering and uncovering that gorgeous, huge,   helmet shaped glans so that his precome is smeared all over.  It’s not yet light enough to shine, but Jensen’s got plenty of first hand experiences by now to picture it perfectly in his mind.

Jared murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “don’t stop, baby” in his sleep and Jensen wonders if external reality is starting to seep into Jared’s subconscious, and if so, all the better.  Jensen gets a little more deliberate, stroking him hard enough like it’s movie night and all Jared wants is an easy handjob (it’s never exactly a hardship for Jensen to give one, no matter how beat up Jared gets thinking he’s taking advantage of Jensen’s eagerness to please), working towards waking Jared up so that maybe, just maybe he’ll either fuck his throat or ass before they eventually have to get up.

A moan from somewhere between Jared’s absurdly gorgeous throat and chest makes Jensen nearly jump out of his skin, his focus so zeroed in on making Jared as hard as he possibly can that he’d started to forget that he wasn’t actually awake.  Jensen stops only long enough to pull down his briefs and get himself freed, way too hot in his own skin. He thinks about getting up to open the window, let some air blow through and cool it off enough that Jensen can finish what he’s started without sweating to death first.

Instead, he pulls his underwear all the way off, kicking it off one leg once they’re around his feet and shoving the covers all the way down.  He grudgingly lets go of Jared’s cock long enough to finish taking off his own skivvies as well, leaving them both completely naked, wedding bands notwithstanding.  

He’s behaved as long as he can, but all it takes is one little taste of Jared’s precome from his wet fingers for Jensen to know that he can’t fucking wait any longer.

Jared doesn’t do much manscaping, and Jensen likes it that way, loving that he can lick down from Jared’s treasure trail and inhale the musky scent of his pubes, darker brown than the chestnut locks of his head.  Jensen doesn’t spend much time there, going right for what he wants. He pulls Jared’s foreskin all the way and licks his frenulum, giving himself only the time it takes for him tilt his head and swallow Jared’s glans to get himself in the headspace for deepthroating his husband’s massive fucking cock.

Jensen takes his time with getting Jared in his mouth, relaxing his throat as he swallows inch by inch.  There isn’t any part of Jared’s cock that isn’t thick, and it just gets bigger the further towards the base he gets.  The full-size Fleshjacks they own are a tight fit (and watching Jared use them on himself, well, Jensen should honestly be charged admission for getting to watch because it’s that fucking hot) and Jensen tries not to think about how much it distends his throat to do this.

It’s not like he hasn’t had almost fifteen years of practice, and in that time Jared has never been small.  From the time they got together in high school, through college, all of it, Jensen’s been trying his hardest to perfect his technique, to find all the ways to make Jared moan and beg just from having his mouth on him.  There are lots and lots of things that work, but right now Jensen’s doing this mostly for himself, just to feel the hot, solid weight of Jared on his tongue, stretching his jaw and making his eyes start to leak. He doesn’t have much room to move his tongue, but he tries his best to lick the fat, near-straight vein that runs up the underside of Jared’s cock, putting what pressure on it he can to get more of the salty-sweet taste that’s never really changed.

Right as the end of Jensen’s nose is about to brush Jared’s pubes, Jensen feels a heavy, gentle hand land on the top of his head, strong, sure fingers bunching and relaxing in his hair.

“Mornin’, beautiful.”

Jared’s voice is as rough as hundred year old whiskey, but it makes Jensen’s spine liquify all the same, his body going hot as Jared strokes his hair and caresses the side of his face.  He can almost see him in the low light - not that he needs to anyway. He reaches for Jared’s left hand and locks their fingers together, rubbing his wedding ring as he bobs up and down on his cock, slurping a little more eagerly now that he’s awake.

“Was sure it was a dream, feelin’ you down there.”  Jared touches Jensen’s throat with his right hand, feeling just how much of himself is currently inside him.  “But fuck, baby, you’re way fuckin’ better than a dream.”

Jensen hums in agreement, the vibration from his voice making Jared moan softly.  He rubs himself against the mattress as he feels Jared thicken even more in his mouth, wondering just how hard it would be to start getting himself open while he keeps sucking him.  Maybe if he was a little more alert he could get it done right, but given the early hour and that Jensen’s only been awake for maybe thirty minutes, he sticks to just getting Jared’s cock wet.

Jared’s mounting desire saves him from permanently making his throat sore all weekend, pulling him off of his cock and bringing him to kiss him deeply, Jensen’s brain still just fuzzy enough to miss Jared sneaking the lube out from under the pillow and getting his fingers wet.  He doesn’t notice until Jared is circling his hole with two fingers, getting it wet and then sliding them both in with practiced ease.

Jensen snaps awake when he feels Jared curl against his prostate, hitting it dead center and making his vision swim.  “Fuck, Jay, do that fucking again.” Jensen feels his cock spurt precome, leaking all over Jared’s abs and pooling in his navel.  It’s way too early in the day for Jared to try and make him squirt, but they do have all weekend to make it happen…

“Yeah, I felt it babe.”  Jared runs his fingers through the mess on his stomach and feeds it to Jensen, the taste of his body almost tangy compared to Jared’s.  “Fuckin’ love it when you get messy for me.”

Jensen swirls his tongue around Jared’s fingers, memories of the other night in the kitchen coming flooding back.  Christ, that had been an incredibly hot fuck, one that Jensen wasn’t planning on happening when he’d awakened that morning.  Of course, how the hell can he expect Jared to come in looking and smelling like that and not have Jensen bend over for the taking?

“Keep doin’ that and you’re gonna get a whole lot more.”  Jensen has to clear his throat to make his words heard properly, his mind coming dangerously close to sliding out of his ear when Jared adds a third finger.  “Was kinda hopin’ to ride you but if you’re gonna get all handsy that might not happen.” Fucking hell, he can barely get the words out, between Jared working him open and stroking his cock at the same time.  Another huge blurt of precome drips out of him, and Jensen has to clench hard around Jared’s fingers to stop himself from coming.

“Shit, Jensen, think you need somethin’ else.”  Jared drags him in for another kiss as he removes his fingers, leaving Jensen feeling aggravatingly empty and leaking with lube.  Jared makes it up to him by tugging at his hair as he slicks himself up, giving Jensen that extra little bit of sensation to finish putting him the right state of mind.

Neither of them are in the mood to tease, and Jared guides Jensen right onto his cock, one hand steadying his hip as he holds himself steady, letting Jensen’s body and gravity do the rest.  Jensen sees stars as he’s filled up, eyes closed and breath coming through gritted teeth - yeah, it hurts, but only at first. Jared soothes him with a kiss once he’s halfway down, rocking his hips up as he buries his tongue in Jensen’s mouth.  It’s a distraction, and when Jensen comes back around he realize he’s fully seated, ass filled and Jared moaning shit shit shit shit softly under his breath.

“I… fuck, Jared, I think I can taste you in the back of my throat.” Jensen has to force himself to breathe evenly, and Jared helps by rubbing him up and down his spine.  Jensen leans into the touch, letting it relax and focus him, his body get used to the position. He’s not up to truly riding Jared - he’s got to be limbered up and more alert for that - but it doesn’t exactly look like Jared is expecting that, so a slow, steady rock will have to do.

It helps that he pushes Jared back down on the bed and starts to grind, kissing Jared right as he moans.  Jensen licks the sound from his mouth, his cock throbbing every time he feels Jared against his prostate.

Which granted is constantly, because there isn’t a single sensitive place that isn’t being touched and kicked into overdrive right now, between Jared’s constantly roaming hands hitting all his hot spots on his body (mostly nipples, always his nipples) and kissing him like he’s going for the record of “most times I can get my tongue around my husband’s per second.”  Jensen’s body isn’t fucking ready for this, and what Jared’s giving him isn’t even the full treatment, just slow, lazy, easy, comforting - Jensen can roll with that, and when Jared starts to fuck up into him just enough to make him whine for more, Jensen’s ability to keep it together goes out the window along with the ability to try and stay quiet.

“Fucking hell, Jared, baby, can feel you so goddamn deep in me.”  Jensen’s proud of being able to string that many words together right now, with mostly coherent results.  Jared just gathers him a little closer and holds on tight to Jensen’s hips, keeping up the slow, steady pace, head rolling back and closing his eyes to get lost in the feeling too.  

Jensen’s the one to feel it first, that initial sharp, powerful pull of climax.  It starts behind his balls, somewhere between the base of his cock and prostate, blooming exponentially with the deep, wet drag of Jared’s cock.  He can barely stand to touch himself, drooling precome and matting the hair on Jared’s belly to his skin, mixing with white, pearly drops of come that’s been forced out involuntarily.  Jensen shudders as that feeling gets more intense, working its way through his body until it’s a heat between every fucking heartbeat - boom, flash, boom, flash, bursting bright behind his eyes and shutting his brain down.

“Jay, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come-”

Jensen feels like he’s being ripped apart, the entire essence of his being blown out through the end of his dick and all over Jared, down from the pretty dip of his collarbone to his belly, spurt after spurt of come that didn’t get the chance to make it out the night before.  Jared slams his hips up and actually suspends Jensen as he fucks his load raggedly into his ass, mouth held open in a scream as silent as Jensen’s is loud. Mutually assured destructive bliss, and Jensen swears it lasts a millennium or two, still coming even after his body has given up all it can for now.

Thank God Jared has the sense to roll them and break as much of Jensen’s collapse as possible, because he was going down one way or the other.   The sun has begun to come out, just enough to let Jensen see the mess he’s made of Jared’s body. He can feel the mess of come and lube leaking out of him, down his thighs and onto the mattress, a price he’s more than willing to pay to get to see the look of utter satisfaction on his husband’s face.

Jared lies there, nose to nose with Jensen, caught between chasing his breath and laughing because what other reaction can there be to a good, slow fuck like that at barely past six in the morning?

“I uh… I don’t suppose you’ll let me cook you a full breakfast after doing uh… that to you.”  Jared’s eyes are a beautiful, stormy gray right now, and Jensen has to stop himself from kissing him stupid again.

“Hey, it was a joint effort - I wouldn’t even be awake if I’d remembered to turn my alarm off last night.”  Jensen needs to get up and go clean himself up, but Jared’s warm and beautiful and way too inviting to not take up the chance to cuddle with.  He pulls Jensen to him and keeps his hands to himself, saving the fingering Jensen back open for the second round for later.

After that, Jensen probably won’t even need it later.

“Can’t say I’m mad about it - gotta walk Titan soon anyway.”

“You’re telling me your legs are working right now?”  Jensen can’t feel anything but pleasant numbness from his belly button on down, so more power to Jared if he’s in any shape to actually stand at the moment.

Jared looks like he’s about to provide evidence to the contrary, decides against it, and kisses Jensen again instead.  “Tell you what - I’ll trade you making coffee for taking him around the block. But not now. Maybe in an hour, or… something.”  Yeah, Jared’s good and addled right now, and Jensen wants nothing more than to sink into that slushy warm voice.

“An hour or something, don’t think that’s an alarm setting Jay.”

Jared smacks his ass, adding to the soreness - but certainly not enough to make Jensen get up, not when for the moment, he’s got everything he wants right here.

But he doesn’t complain about the coffee Jared makes on his way out with the dog, either.