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"Here," Jared says, voice tight and face pinched as he hands over the joint.

Their fingers brush as Jensen takes it, the contact sending a warm thrum through his fingertips and up into his palm and he brings the paper to his lips. The tip is slightly wet with Jared's spit and Jensen sucks on it, pulls in the hit and holds it deep in his lungs, watches the opposite end slowly shriveling.

Beside him, Jared tilts his head back and exhales. Jensen glances over and Jared smiles at him, all wide and lazy, hair falling over his eyes before he pushes it back. "Good, right?" he says, reaching to take back the joint. Jensen releases his breath, relishes the warm buzz sinking into his muscles and bones, weighing him down and making him weightless at the same time.

"Mmm," he says.

Jared's couch is obscenely comfortable and he nestles deeper into the cushions, stretches his legs out and rests his head back.

"Hey, c'mere," Jared says and Jensen rolls his head to the side to look at him, curious. Jared has the joint between two long fingers and he's grinning a little. It's a look Jensen would question completely sober, the kind of look that reeks of questionable moral activity that may or may not end in them getting arrested. But he's not completely sober, not even close, and he just mirrors the smile and rolls his shoulders against the cushions as he shifts closer.

"Got a trick or somethin'?" he asks and Jared's smile ratchets up a notch, blinding.

"Yeah," he says, bringing the joint to his pursed lips. Jensen watches, heavy-lidded and focused intently on the way Jared sucks on the spliff, lips all pink and tight around the paper. It draws to mind a million and one fantasies and Jensen savors the sight, too comfortable under the pot haze to angst about all the things he can never have. His gaze trails lower, over the curve of Jared's jaw and down his neck, catches on the swell of Jared's chest as he inhales, expanding under the stretch of his dark cotton t-shirt.

Jared shifts and Jensen glances up just in time to see Jared's face looming in close. Close, close, closer. He blinks dumbly and then Jared's lips are on his, closed at first and then nudging open.

It's somehow not as much of a shock as it should be and Jensen's lips part on instinct, a quiet sound escaping that would be embarrassing under any other circumstances.

And then Jared's laughing. Laughing and pulling away, letting out a plume of pot smoke between them as the laughter turns to soft, wheezing coughs. Jensen's lips tingle and he blinks again, squints in confusion as Jared gets his breathing under control.

"Dude, you gotta inhale," Jared says, joint dangling between his fingers.

It takes a second for that to register and Jensen doesn't know whether to be embarrassed, disappointed or pathetically thrilled because Jared's taking another hit and leaning closer again, offering another chance.

"You gotta warn me," he mutters and Jared only smirks, tilts and shifts slightly to grab Jensen by the back of his neck with his free hand.

And then those lips are on Jensen's again, dry and wide and nudging his open. There's a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him this isn't normal, that two (mostly) heterosexual guys don't do this kind of thing. Not ever. Not even if those guys do almost everything else together -- eat, work, nap, play, get dressed, work-out, everything short of jerk off. Not even if those guys are pretty laid back, in the entertainment industry and totally stoned. He knows that voice is right, this isn't normal. But that voice is retarded because, normal or not, it's happening and Jensen is sure as hell taking advantage of it.

He manages to do what he's supposed to, eyes drifting closed as their mouths seal together and he breathes in slow and deep, the smoke passing from Jared's lungs into his own, warm and fulfilling and utterly satisfying. It's infused with a different taste this way, too, like beer and chips and salsa and something else, too. Something even more addicting.

He chases after it as Jared pulls away, leaning forward as their lips part. The sound of a low chuckle rouses him from his daze and he blinks his eyes open to see Jared's smile again, lazily amused.

"Better," he says and Jensen finally closes his mouth, licking the taste off his bottom lip. "Dude, you've never done this before, have you?"

Jensen frowns. "Have," he says, indignant as he sinks back into the couch again, head rolled to one side because he still can't take his eyes off the puffy redness of Jared's mouth. That mouth had just been on his and God, he wants more of it. "Been awhile, 's all."

"Right," Jared says, his grin uncomfortably knowing.

He's still so close, right up in Jensen's personal space even though there's plenty of room on the other end of the enormous couch, but Jensen can't find it in himself to complain. Jared smells good. Which is a little boggling considering how much the guy sweats and farts, but it's true. Jared smells good and he's all warm and loose-limbed against Jensen's side and Jensen knows this is a phenomenally bad idea, but he just nods at the spliff and says, "C'mon. One more time."

He catches Jared staring at his mouth and his breath hitches slightly, hopefully imperceptibly before he gathers his wits again, elbowing Jared in the side.

"You started this, dude. Let's go."

Jared blinks and then smiles that damn smile again. The joint is nearly down to Jared's fingertips now, barely more than a slug, but Jared brings it to his mouth and inhales deep, finishing it off. The cushion behind Jensen's back dips and shifts as Jared pushes his weight forward, reaching to drop the leftover bit into an empty beer bottle and then he's right back in Jensen's space. Right back and touching Jensen's jaw with his fingertips, guiding and tilting until they're mouth-to-mouth one more time.

And Jensen jumps into it feet first this time, too stoned to give a shit that it's weird and reckless and stupid. He gets a hand between them, palm up against Jared's chest, gripping a handful of his shirt and holding on. He remembers to inhale, but only just barely, smoke filling his mouth and his throat and his lungs in a slow transference. And he means to pull back as it trails off except that Jared's leaning into him. Leaning into him and licking, a quick, tentative taste behind Jensen's front teeth.

Whimpering, Jensen flicks his own tongue over Jared's, a slick, brief slide and then Jared's growling and surging forward, crushing Jensen back into the couch, his hand sliding down to Jensen's neck, spanning wide. It's incredible and intoxicating, but Jensen's lungs scream with the need for pure oxygen and he has to pull back, bottom lip catching on Jared's upper one as he tilts his head back and shudders in a breath.

"No," Jared mutters inexplicably and takes Jensen's mouth again. Jensen can see sparks of white behind his eyelids as Jared shoves his tongue back into Jensen's mouth, fucking into him messy and possessive and hotter than anything Jensen's ever felt in his fucking life. After a brief, but valiant fight for control, Jensen gives into it, lets Jared's massive hands frame his face as he takes what he wants.

When he pulls back, Jensen can't help the whimper that slips free, eyes blinking open and unfocused as Jared ducks into his neck, teeth scraping the skin of his collarbone.

"Fuck, Jensen," he murmurs and Jensen tips his head back, stares unseeing at the ceiling above them as he sinks his fingers into Jared's thick hair.

"Oh God," he groans as Jared sucks at his Adam's apple, feels the tip of Jared's tongue follow the bulge when he swallows.

Jared's hand finds his waist and slides down over his hip, gripping and pulling him closer and he murmurs against Jensen's throat, "Let me."

And Jensen has no idea what he's talking about, but he nods anyway. He feels like there's a lead weight attached to every one of his limbs and Jared's a blanket of pure heat plastered against him and his jeans are suddenly about three sizes too small in the crotch and it's incredible. All of it. Suffocating and intoxicating and fucking absolutely incredible.

Jared's hand slides along his waistband, fingertips slipping past the bottom hem of his shirt and Jensen shudders at the touch, gasps as Jared's teeth press into his neck. "Let me," he says again and Jensen whines, hips tilting upward instinctively, rocking against the friction in his jeans.

"Please," he breathes, eyes clenched tight, lungs once again craving air. He doesn't exactly know what he's begging for short of everything and he grabs at Jared's shoulder in an attempt to keep himself from shaking apart.

Jared shifts against him, head tucked right under Jensen's chin, breath hot on his neck. "God, you have no idea," he says and Jensen feels the words more than he hears them, every brush of Jared's lips a tickle against his skin.

"Of what?" he asks, breathless and aching and Jared only shakes his head, slides his hand over Jensen's stomach and then down, right over the front of Jensen's jeans, palming the obvious bulge.

Jensen shudders at the touch, the heat of it simultaneously electrifying and not nearly enough, his hips bucking upward for more as he whimpers Jared's name.

"Fuck, Jensen," Jared groans, his hand huge and hot and rubbing maddeningly slowly. "Wanted this. So fuckin' long, man, you got no idea." None of Jared's words are making sense, but Jensen really doesn't care, his focus entirely on where Jared's touching him, his hips grinding up into the touch mindlessly. And then Jared's moving again, sliding down, pressing kisses to Jensen's chest and stomach over his t-shirt and muttering, "Gonna blow you. I have to, I really have to, Jensen, I can't help it. God, just-- just let me suck you. Please, Jensen. Fuck, please."

Jared's already fumbling with the buttons of Jensen's jeans and it's all Jensen can do to not pass out, Jared's mad ramblings making his head spin.

"Jared," he manages, barely a whisper, stunned and so incredibly turned on.

But Jared gives no indication of having heard him and Jensen's reluctant to distract him anyway. He's still bent forward over Jensen's lap, hands working to free Jensen of his jeans. Cool air brushes Jensen's exposed skin and he helpfully lifts his hips as much as he can, tries to ignore the way his body shudders as Jared's hand slips under the waistband of his boxers and tugs him free.

"Oh God," he groans, legs spreading as Jared's hand wraps around him right at the root, skin pulled back from the crown and air brushing pink, sensitive skin. He's already leaking, can see the gleam of it right at the tip a second before Jared's head blocks it from view. And then there's a quick flick of warm tongue, the sensation jolting him to the core before Jared's hand strokes him, long and slow and Jesus Christ, perfect. "Please," he whimpers, not caring how pathetic he sounds. "Fuck, please, Jared. Can't-- please."

And that's apparently all Jared needs to hear. Jensen cries out as his cock is swallowed down, enveloped in wet, heated suction. Jared's fingers are still curled around the base, pressed in tight against his balls as Jensen struggles against the impulse to thrust as Jared's head bobs between his thighs, lips stretched around him. He hisses at the occasional scrape of teeth and Jared pulls back to lick at the crown apologetically, giving Jensen a brief reprieve before sucking him down again. His view is completely blocked by Jared's giant head and all Jensen can do is curl his fingers in Jared's sweat-damp hair and hold on, his own head falling back and lips parting on desperate, silent moans as the pleasure coils in the base of his spine.

"Jared--" he manages, voice shot. He tugs at Jared's hair and tries again, barely clinging to the edge of the inevitable. "Jared, I'm gonna--"

But Jared only groans and twists his wrist, palming Jensen's balls as he takes him impossibly deeper, right down his throat. And every muscle in Jensen's body draws tighttighttight, toes curled and head back, eyes clenched as he desperately clings to the edge, not wanting it to stop, never fucking stop. But then Jared's brushing a thumb over the thick vein, pressing as his cheeks hollow and that's it, that's all Jensen can take and he comes like he's been waiting for it his whole life, hard and fast down Jared's throat, his entire body shaking from the force of it, trembling with every tiny aftershock as Jared pulls back slightly to swallow.

"Oh god," he whispers, throat dry and eyes still closed.

Jared's still touching him, fingers gently pulling back the extra skin as he licks him clean. Jensen jolts at every flick of Jared's tongue and he reaches to grab Jared's wrist, stilling him. "Too much," he whimpers, apologetic.

Jared turns his head to look up at Jensen, his hair brushing against Jensen's spent cock. His pupils are huge, dark pools of black ringed in hazel and his lips are red and swollen, cheeks flushed pink. It's a face Jensen's only ever fantasized about and he can't help another groan, gripping Jared's wrist tighter.

"Wanna fuck me?" he asks, too blissed out on sex and beer and pot to really think about what he's offering.

He watches Jared's eyes go wide before he lets out a soft breath of a laugh. "God, you have no idea," he says, his hand moving to rest over Jensen's stomach as he sits up, still curled in close.

"Think I do," Jensen protests, watching Jared the whole way, studying him for any sign that this is about to get weird, that Jared will laugh it off and blame the weed.

But Jared only shakes his head and takes Jensen's hand, guides it down to the front of his own jeans. Jensen sucks in a sharp breath when he feels the stretch of damp denim, mind short-circuiting at the thought that Jared fucking creamed his jeans without Jensen so much as touching him.

"Kinda embarrassing, huh?" Jared says, sheepish and Jensen barely suppresses a growl as he lunges forward, catches Jared's bottom lip with his teeth and drags him closer.

Groaning, Jared opens up to it, lets Jensen's tongue slide in, lets him taste the beer and chips and weed and his own bitter come, thick and delicious in Jared's mouth. And Jensen can't get enough of it, his tongue delving deep, chasing it over the roof of Jared's mouth, behind his front teeth and around his tongue. Initial hungry desperation eventually melts into slow, lazy kisses that numb his lips and he sucks at Jared's tongue before finally pulling back, swallowing down the taste and meeting Jared's eyes.

"So," Jared says, pupils still blown dark, looking dazed and happy.

Jensen's overheated and still floating on his high while Jared's sweaty and disheveled and gorgeous and Jensen feels a smile tug at his lips as he lifts a weary hand, runs his fingers through that thick, messy hair again.

Jared's eyes briefly drift closed under the touch and he hums and leans in until they're forehead to forehead. Murmurs, "Tell me this wasn't just the weed."

It's barely a whisper and Jensen has to take a minute to assure himself that yes, Jared actually said that and not him. That it wasn't in his head, but in Jared's actual voice, low and deep and quiet. It's everything Jensen's been thinking since the moment Jared's tongue pushed into his mouth, but it's still Jared who actually said it.

"Well," he says, struggling to to make sense of it as he pulls in a slow breath and fights the smile that wants to break out across his face. "How about we try it again tomorrow morning without the pot. See what happens."

Jared blinks and then snorts a laugh, crowds in close to bite at Jensen's bottom lip. "Sounds like a plan."