Fic: Before Midnight, J2, NC-17
Feb. 11th, 2011 02:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
strangeallureTitle: Before Midnight
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jared and Jensen don't want to screw up their friendship. They do, however, want to screw each other. Guess what happens.
Word Count: ~1,700
Warnings: none
A/N:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riyku prompted me with "midnight" for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
salt_burn_porn challenge. I had seven different ideas, all of which were too long to make work in the 24 hours afforded by the challenge. So this happened instead. It was written in about three hours, at least five seconds of which were spent finding a title (see evidence above).
Since 2003 pubs in Britain are allowed to extend their opening hours until after eleven pm. In practice, many don't. Also: we're talking faux-British pub on an American campus here.
Before Midnight
"You know," Jared says, his speech a little slurred, "I like authen-," what's the word again? Oh yeah: "authenticious-" No, that's not right. "authenticity," Yeah, that's it. He grins triumphantly and repeats it again for good measure, "authenticity as much as the next guy, but this eleven pm closing time thing is insane."
"Yeah," Jensen says, swaying into Jared's side a little as they walk, "I'm never going to patronize this 'authentic English pub' again."
"Never." Jared nods, solemn. They even have a little bell to announce "Last Order" about half past ten. It's ridiculous. The day that pub opened on campus was a sad day for the student body and party culture of their university, he decides. Even though that fish'n'chips stuff was pretty good. He even liked the vinegar they put on it.
"Then again," he says and grins at Jensen a little sloppily, "we still managed to get pretty drunk."
"That we did," Jensen says, grinning back. "But we could still go find somewhere else to party if you want ..."
"Not really. I have class at ten tomorrow anyway." On a whim, Jared takes Jensen's arm and pulls him down the road leading to the lake. Somehow, he doesn't want to go home yet. "Come on, lets go for a walk."
"Finally taking me for a romantic stroll along the lake, Padalecki?" Jensen mocks.
"Yeah," Jared says, a little surprised by his own words, by the lack of teasing in them, "I am."
Jensen smiles and suddenly, Jared's not sure what it means anymore. Maybe he's just too drunk.
For a while, they simply walk side by side without words. Shoulders bumping and fingers brushing occasionally, strolling along the lake, watching the moonlight be reflected on the water's calm surface like it's something they've done before.
Finally, Jensen breaks the silence. "What do you think," he gives Jared a sideways look, "will one of us ever make a move?"
Jared takes one more step, then stops, feeling his forehead scrunch up right as he makes a sound like a question. "What do you mean?"
Jensen shrugs, this weird smile on his face again, the one that's wistful and rare and makes Jared feel like he should know what it means. "I know you like me. And you know I like you," he says, more matter-of-fact than anything else. "But none of us ever made a move, you know. It's weird, is all."
Jared inhales, deep and slow and a little shaky. He wants to say that he's too drunk for this, but he knows it's not true. "It's not that easy."
Jensen snorts.
"Finding someone to fuck is easy," Jared tries to explain. "The other shit, that's the hard part. And once you find someone for the hard part, you don't wanna risk it, you know. You don't wanna fuck it up." Jensen doesn't call him on the fact that he just talked about himself in the second person. He just cocks his head like he's thinking, slightly nodding to himself.
"Okay," Jensen says after a while. "I'll make you a deal." He lifts his left arm and takes a look at his watch, having to tilt it around a little bit so he can read the dial in the moonlight. "It's almost exactly eleven-thirty right now."
Jared's not sure why the time is important here, but okay, he's going along.
"And until midnight, I'll give you a ... a free trial period. A pass, free rein, carte blanche, whatever. You can say and do and ask me anything, and no matter what happens, nothing's gonna change." Jensen gives him one of his gleaming, cocky smiles, but Jared instinctively knows that this is serious, even as Jensen does a pretty good imitation of Jim Dale's voice and intones, "At the stroke of midnight, everything will go back to the way it was." He winks at Jared. "We'll blame it on the alcohol and probably won't even remember in the morning. No harm, no foul." The smile fades, leaving a trace of honesty on Jensen's face, in his eyes. "Deal?"
Jared knows it's a lie, of course. You can never undo or unsee or un-anything. And they're not nearly drunk enough to forget. Even if Jensen thinks they can pull it off, he knows that this is a huge risk, that this could turn awkward everything that's so easy between them right now.
He swallows. "Deal."
Jensen's mouth opens a little in surprise, but it only lasts a moment.
When Jared doesn't say or do anything, he takes a step closer, the tips of their shoes almost touching, the heat of his body closer than it usually is. "So," he says, drawing out the word as he raises one eyebrow.
And Jared thinks, fuck it. He has thirty minutes, maybe less, to not think and second-guess and worry. To just do and touch and feel. And if he's going to screw everything up, he might as well go all out.
His hands come up to cup Jensen's face, pulling him closer even as Jared's own face is moving in. The angle is not quite right at first, and maybe Jared is a little more drunk than he thought, because their noses bump together and their mouths mash more than they meet. But then Jensen's hands are on his jaw, pulling and tilting his head just so, making their lips slot together more easily, and then, then it's good. Real good.
Jensen's mouth is almost a little cool, but soft, the suck and slide of their lips and tongues so new, so exciting that Jared can't really make out the flavor of it. Even the stale, slightly sour taste of beer in his own mouth seems gone, replaced by wetness and just-right pressure.
He feels Jensen's hands grab his neck, his hair, pull him deeper still into the kiss as he pushes his body up against Jared's. Close. Incredibly, inextricably close.
A groans rises from his throat as he feels the press of Jensen's hips against his, the hardness of his cock urgent against Jared's own, making him want even more. He can't let go of Jensen's lips, though, not even long enough to figure out how to take this further.
Luckily, Jensen's mind seems a little more up for the occasion, and he manages to walk them a few steps, onto the lawn, behind a few shrubs, where he basically lets himself fall onto his knees, pulling Jared with him. Despite the grass, the ground is tough, and Jared feels the impact go through his legs, his body. He doesn't care. He just wants to keep kissing Jensen, savor this as long as he has it.
When Jensen's lips move away, Jared is unwilling to let go, but is quickly persuaded once Jensen's teeth scrape along his skin, nipping at his jaw and neck. Suddenly, Jensen pulls away and gives him a predatory grin, mouth red and swollen and already looking obscene.
He pushes at Jared's chest, hard, and sends him onto his back, spread out on the grass, the slight wetness of it already palpable through his thin tee. It doesn't matter.
What matters is that Jensen is on top of him now, between legs Jared doesn't even remember spreading, a possessive hand on Jared's chin almost forcing a kiss he's only too willing to give.
Jared pushes into the kiss, even as he lets his hands roam, explore. As he feels the strength in Jensen's shoulders and the way his back tapers down to his waist. As he puts his hands around Jensen's hips and then slides them lower, stroking and kneading the curve of his ass, encouraging Jensen to roll his hips against Jared's, to let him feel how hard he is, how much he wants this.
It's amazing: the friction against his cock every time Jensen rocks forward, the way Jensen's hands grapple and scratch and pull at him and seem to be everywhere at once, how he mouths and bites and sucks along Jared's neck, licking the hollow of his throat, then coming back up to take his mouth again.
Jared bucks up into the movement of Jensen's hips, his legs snaking around Jensen's waist so he can get even closer, can get even more of him.
The growls Jensen presses into his skin grow heavier, darker, get more teeth, and the moans he makes just in time with the slide of their cocks turn deeper with each thrust, primal.
It's so fucking good.
As their movements go out of sync, Jared buries his face in Jensen's neck, biting his shouts into the salty tang of Jensen's skin when he comes.
A moment later, he feels Jensen do the same. One last, wet sound making Jared's neck tingle.
For a moment, neither of them moves before Jensen rolls off of him, but stays close.
They're both lying there for a while, looking into the dark sky, chests heaving as their breaths even out gradually, as they become aware of the surrounding world again: the blades of grass sticking to the sweat on Jared's neck. The sounds of cicadas and frogs and the water. The smell of them, of what they did. It's heavy around Jared, mixing with the clean night air and the scent of the grass beneath him.
He breathes in deeply.
In the calm he feels right now, the sound of the old church bell seems shrill and startling. When he lived in Whitfield Hall his first year, the damn thing woke him up pretty much every morning at six, but it's on the other side of campus, and Jared almost forgot that you could hear it as far as the lake.
He counts the strikes, even as he turns his head towards Jensen.
There's that look on Jensen's face again, the one Jared thought he didn't understand.
He gets it now.
Jensen gives him a half-smile that doesn't really reach his eyes and sits up, brushing leaves of grass from his shoulders.
"No harm, no foul," he says.
"No harm, no foul," Jared agrees.
And then he takes Jensen's hand and pulls him down for another kiss. Soft and gentle and a lot less urgent.
"Just to make sure you won't forget," he murmurs against Jensen's lips.
Jensen laughs into his mouth and kisses him back.
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jared and Jensen don't want to screw up their friendship. They do, however, want to screw each other. Guess what happens.
Word Count: ~1,700
Warnings: none
A/N:
riyku prompted me with "midnight" for the salt_burn_porn challenge. I had seven different ideas, all of which were too long to make work in the 24 hours afforded by the challenge. So this happened instead. It was written in about three hours, at least five seconds of which were spent finding a title (see evidence above).Since 2003 pubs in Britain are allowed to extend their opening hours until after eleven pm. In practice, many don't. Also: we're talking faux-British pub on an American campus here.
Before Midnight
"You know," Jared says, his speech a little slurred, "I like authen-," what's the word again? Oh yeah: "authenticious-" No, that's not right. "authenticity," Yeah, that's it. He grins triumphantly and repeats it again for good measure, "authenticity as much as the next guy, but this eleven pm closing time thing is insane."
"Yeah," Jensen says, swaying into Jared's side a little as they walk, "I'm never going to patronize this 'authentic English pub' again."
"Never." Jared nods, solemn. They even have a little bell to announce "Last Order" about half past ten. It's ridiculous. The day that pub opened on campus was a sad day for the student body and party culture of their university, he decides. Even though that fish'n'chips stuff was pretty good. He even liked the vinegar they put on it.
"Then again," he says and grins at Jensen a little sloppily, "we still managed to get pretty drunk."
"That we did," Jensen says, grinning back. "But we could still go find somewhere else to party if you want ..."
"Not really. I have class at ten tomorrow anyway." On a whim, Jared takes Jensen's arm and pulls him down the road leading to the lake. Somehow, he doesn't want to go home yet. "Come on, lets go for a walk."
"Finally taking me for a romantic stroll along the lake, Padalecki?" Jensen mocks.
"Yeah," Jared says, a little surprised by his own words, by the lack of teasing in them, "I am."
Jensen smiles and suddenly, Jared's not sure what it means anymore. Maybe he's just too drunk.
For a while, they simply walk side by side without words. Shoulders bumping and fingers brushing occasionally, strolling along the lake, watching the moonlight be reflected on the water's calm surface like it's something they've done before.
Finally, Jensen breaks the silence. "What do you think," he gives Jared a sideways look, "will one of us ever make a move?"
Jared takes one more step, then stops, feeling his forehead scrunch up right as he makes a sound like a question. "What do you mean?"
Jensen shrugs, this weird smile on his face again, the one that's wistful and rare and makes Jared feel like he should know what it means. "I know you like me. And you know I like you," he says, more matter-of-fact than anything else. "But none of us ever made a move, you know. It's weird, is all."
Jared inhales, deep and slow and a little shaky. He wants to say that he's too drunk for this, but he knows it's not true. "It's not that easy."
Jensen snorts.
"Finding someone to fuck is easy," Jared tries to explain. "The other shit, that's the hard part. And once you find someone for the hard part, you don't wanna risk it, you know. You don't wanna fuck it up." Jensen doesn't call him on the fact that he just talked about himself in the second person. He just cocks his head like he's thinking, slightly nodding to himself.
"Okay," Jensen says after a while. "I'll make you a deal." He lifts his left arm and takes a look at his watch, having to tilt it around a little bit so he can read the dial in the moonlight. "It's almost exactly eleven-thirty right now."
Jared's not sure why the time is important here, but okay, he's going along.
"And until midnight, I'll give you a ... a free trial period. A pass, free rein, carte blanche, whatever. You can say and do and ask me anything, and no matter what happens, nothing's gonna change." Jensen gives him one of his gleaming, cocky smiles, but Jared instinctively knows that this is serious, even as Jensen does a pretty good imitation of Jim Dale's voice and intones, "At the stroke of midnight, everything will go back to the way it was." He winks at Jared. "We'll blame it on the alcohol and probably won't even remember in the morning. No harm, no foul." The smile fades, leaving a trace of honesty on Jensen's face, in his eyes. "Deal?"
Jared knows it's a lie, of course. You can never undo or unsee or un-anything. And they're not nearly drunk enough to forget. Even if Jensen thinks they can pull it off, he knows that this is a huge risk, that this could turn awkward everything that's so easy between them right now.
He swallows. "Deal."
Jensen's mouth opens a little in surprise, but it only lasts a moment.
When Jared doesn't say or do anything, he takes a step closer, the tips of their shoes almost touching, the heat of his body closer than it usually is. "So," he says, drawing out the word as he raises one eyebrow.
And Jared thinks, fuck it. He has thirty minutes, maybe less, to not think and second-guess and worry. To just do and touch and feel. And if he's going to screw everything up, he might as well go all out.
His hands come up to cup Jensen's face, pulling him closer even as Jared's own face is moving in. The angle is not quite right at first, and maybe Jared is a little more drunk than he thought, because their noses bump together and their mouths mash more than they meet. But then Jensen's hands are on his jaw, pulling and tilting his head just so, making their lips slot together more easily, and then, then it's good. Real good.
Jensen's mouth is almost a little cool, but soft, the suck and slide of their lips and tongues so new, so exciting that Jared can't really make out the flavor of it. Even the stale, slightly sour taste of beer in his own mouth seems gone, replaced by wetness and just-right pressure.
He feels Jensen's hands grab his neck, his hair, pull him deeper still into the kiss as he pushes his body up against Jared's. Close. Incredibly, inextricably close.
A groans rises from his throat as he feels the press of Jensen's hips against his, the hardness of his cock urgent against Jared's own, making him want even more. He can't let go of Jensen's lips, though, not even long enough to figure out how to take this further.
Luckily, Jensen's mind seems a little more up for the occasion, and he manages to walk them a few steps, onto the lawn, behind a few shrubs, where he basically lets himself fall onto his knees, pulling Jared with him. Despite the grass, the ground is tough, and Jared feels the impact go through his legs, his body. He doesn't care. He just wants to keep kissing Jensen, savor this as long as he has it.
When Jensen's lips move away, Jared is unwilling to let go, but is quickly persuaded once Jensen's teeth scrape along his skin, nipping at his jaw and neck. Suddenly, Jensen pulls away and gives him a predatory grin, mouth red and swollen and already looking obscene.
He pushes at Jared's chest, hard, and sends him onto his back, spread out on the grass, the slight wetness of it already palpable through his thin tee. It doesn't matter.
What matters is that Jensen is on top of him now, between legs Jared doesn't even remember spreading, a possessive hand on Jared's chin almost forcing a kiss he's only too willing to give.
Jared pushes into the kiss, even as he lets his hands roam, explore. As he feels the strength in Jensen's shoulders and the way his back tapers down to his waist. As he puts his hands around Jensen's hips and then slides them lower, stroking and kneading the curve of his ass, encouraging Jensen to roll his hips against Jared's, to let him feel how hard he is, how much he wants this.
It's amazing: the friction against his cock every time Jensen rocks forward, the way Jensen's hands grapple and scratch and pull at him and seem to be everywhere at once, how he mouths and bites and sucks along Jared's neck, licking the hollow of his throat, then coming back up to take his mouth again.
Jared bucks up into the movement of Jensen's hips, his legs snaking around Jensen's waist so he can get even closer, can get even more of him.
The growls Jensen presses into his skin grow heavier, darker, get more teeth, and the moans he makes just in time with the slide of their cocks turn deeper with each thrust, primal.
It's so fucking good.
As their movements go out of sync, Jared buries his face in Jensen's neck, biting his shouts into the salty tang of Jensen's skin when he comes.
A moment later, he feels Jensen do the same. One last, wet sound making Jared's neck tingle.
For a moment, neither of them moves before Jensen rolls off of him, but stays close.
They're both lying there for a while, looking into the dark sky, chests heaving as their breaths even out gradually, as they become aware of the surrounding world again: the blades of grass sticking to the sweat on Jared's neck. The sounds of cicadas and frogs and the water. The smell of them, of what they did. It's heavy around Jared, mixing with the clean night air and the scent of the grass beneath him.
He breathes in deeply.
In the calm he feels right now, the sound of the old church bell seems shrill and startling. When he lived in Whitfield Hall his first year, the damn thing woke him up pretty much every morning at six, but it's on the other side of campus, and Jared almost forgot that you could hear it as far as the lake.
He counts the strikes, even as he turns his head towards Jensen.
There's that look on Jensen's face again, the one Jared thought he didn't understand.
He gets it now.
Jensen gives him a half-smile that doesn't really reach his eyes and sits up, brushing leaves of grass from his shoulders.
"No harm, no foul," he says.
"No harm, no foul," Jared agrees.
And then he takes Jensen's hand and pulls him down for another kiss. Soft and gentle and a lot less urgent.
"Just to make sure you won't forget," he murmurs against Jensen's lips.
Jensen laughs into his mouth and kisses him back.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:21 am (UTC)That was really very sweet, for all that it was pretty scorching as well. :)
(I don't know what it is about happy J2 endings that makes me giddy, but they do!)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 06:14 pm (UTC)(Yes, I love happy endings for them, too.)