Entry tags:

ja/jp, spn rps

6 Lessons to Live By (JA/JP) NC-17
Title: 6 Lessons to Live By (As Told By Jared Padalecki)
Author: keepaofthecheez
Characters: JA/JP, J2, Padackles (Best. Word. EVER.)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11, 605
Disclaimer: Pshaw…yeah, I own them! And fluffy pink donkeys dance on my ceiling at five in the afternoon, singing “I Touch Myself”.
Summary: Oohhh…this is just porn. Probably. With a sprinkling of plot. Okay, really the plot is porn.
Notes: God, this fandom has eaten my brain. First incest, now RPS? *dies*
Thanks to my beta txtequilanights

Lessons 1-3




Lesson # 4: If You Were Waiting For the Opportune Moment, That Was It.


“Sam, Sam, Sam…what’re you going for here? What’s your motivation?”

Jensen snorted into his hand, feigning an innocent expression when Jared’s head whipped around to pin him with an accusing glare. He shrugged, and Jared returned his attention to the director of the week.

“My motivation,” he mumbled, abstaining from eye rolling to the heavens. God save him from theater-savvy directors who needed to know his ‘motivations’. He fixed an easy smile on his face, the one that typically got him out of everything but murder, and only because he’d yet to try that. “Sam pretty much wants to kick Dean’s ass.”

Jensen glanced at him oddly, and Jared belatedly realized that he’d spat the words out a little harsher than he’d intended. Goddamn, but this entire deal was getting to him.

It wasn’t so much that Jensen was acting different, because he wasn’t. Not really. He still joked and snarked with Jared in between takes, and anyone who didn’t know better wouldn’t have noticed that he’d subtly kept from touching Jared as much as he usually did. After all, Jared was the touchy-feely guy, not Jensen. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

Except it was. And Jared could feel it every time he and Jen’s eyes met, whether it was for a Sam and Dean interaction, or over a pot of coffee at the catering station. The way it took just a beat too long for that familiar grin to light his face, and even longer for it to reach his eyes. That tiny sliver of an edge coating his voice.

After all, Jared had seen it before. Jensen was treating him like he treated all of his regrettable one night stands. Keeping things light and easy, with clear ‘stay away’ vibes. At first, Jared had been relieved.

Now he was just pissed.

“But why?” the guest director prodded, chomping on a wad of gum, hands burrowed inside of a light-weight summer coat.

“Because Dean’s a dick,” Jared sighed, prompting a round of laughter from nearby crew. He flashed them all a grin, catching sight of the fleeting frown creasing Jen’s expression. “And a total control freak.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Jensen drawled. “Sam’s the one who gets his panties in a bunch every damn week.”

Jared blew a sarcastic kiss in Jensen’s direction, shuffling his feet on the ground as the chilly Canadian air ruffled his hair. “Can’t I just pound him and call the scene?”

“’Fraid not,” the director sighed, motioning for one of the cameramen to come closer. “Listen up, Jared. You’re what sells this scene. Not Jensen. Not Jeffrey. You. If we don’t believe what you’re feeling, we won’t believe what’s happening.”

Jared hunched his shoulders, embarrassed to have been called out like that in front of his cast and crew. He’d never received anything but professional praise while working on Supernatural, and now he’d messed around with Jensen one time and look where it got him.

He shot Jen a glare from beneath his lashes and retorted, “Roll the damn camera.”

He caught Jeff eyeing him suspiciously and cursed under his breath as they prepared to run the scene again. Jared climbed behind the wheel of Impala # 3, listening to the rustle of Jensen’s jacket as he slipped inside next to him. Neither looked at the other.

At the prompt, Jared clenched his fingers around the wheel and stepped on the gas, shooting the Chevy down the old dirt road they were using to shoot the scene. He didn’t have to feign the hard line to his jaw, the crease between his brows.

He and Jensen ran through their lines, until Jen flubbed one and they had to turn around and start again. Then Jared messed up.

“Take five!” the director yelled, yanking off his headset and motioning toward the camera crew. “Run that back and let me see…”

Inside the Impala, it was eerily quiet as late afternoon melted into evening. The sky had gone dark hours ago, and Jared tilted the seat back to stare up and out of the window at what stars were visible through the thick fog.

“Looks like it’ll rain tonight,” Jensen murmured, and Jared jumped. When he looked over he found Jen watching him with unreadable eyes. “Jared, what the hell’s the matter with you?”

His mouth fell open, and he could only stare for several long seconds. Then, checking the sound equipment, he turned in his chair to face Jensen and hissed, “What’s wrong with me? You’re fucking joking, right?”

Jensen lifted a brow, making a ‘please, continue’ gesture with one hand. Jared saw red.

“Last night,” he ground out, sinking into the seat as heat exploded across his features. At Jensen’s blank expression he barked out a hysterical laugh. “Don’t even fucking do it, Jen. Man…we fucked around, and now everything’s just…fucked.”

“Like your vocabulary,” Jensen muttered.

Jared clenched his jaw, trying to keep from launching himself across the vehicle and killing Jensen on the spot. God, this was nothing like him. He was a happy guy, damn it! He didn’t sulk, he didn’t brood.

“We just fooled around, Jared,” Jensen continued coolly as he sat back and stretched his legs out. “Nothing to get worked up over, all right? Let’s just do the damn scene and then get out of here.”

Jared couldn’t believe his ears. “Oh, you’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

“What do you want me to say?” For the first time, a hint of anger crossed Jensen’s features. “That it was the greatest sex of my life? Let’s be life-partners and move to Vermont? We had a good time, that’s all.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Jared pointed out inanely. His heart was thundering in his ears. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Jen responded, a thread of exhaustion in his voice. “Which is why I’m saying, let’s just forget about it. We were both hopped up on alcohol and…whatever…no harm, no foul. Right?”

“Right,” Jared echoed dully, because really, what else could he say? That he’d spent a sleepless night fantasizing over every goddamn ridge on Jensen’s body? That he was half-hard just being near him now, and that it was taking practically every ounce of his self-control to keep from tackling him into the backseat and shoving himself—

A sudden knock on the window broke the tense silence, and both looked up to find Jeff grinning at them. Jared rolled down the window, staring at his TV dad and real life buddy expectantly.

“You kids ready to roll?”

“Yeah, let’s get this shit over with,” Jared muttered, slumping into the seat with a shadow coloring his expression.

He didn’t bother to check for Jen’s reaction.

______________________________________________________



Lesson # 5: Never Do Anything You Wouldn’t Want to Explain to the Paramedics.





“A fuckin’ tool’s what he is,” Jared slurred, dark glare positioned on Jensen as his friend shot darts across the bar with Mike. “Tell me sum’in, man...” He turned his head and regarded Clark Kent – no, Tom Welling - through glassy eyes. “You ever seen such a fucking tool?”

Tom shook his head, sliding his hand toward the half-empty bottle of beer in front of Jared. “That’s it. You’re cut off.”

“Screw you,” Jared muttered, jerking the mug away and downing it in a single gulp. His head was pounding, his skin was crawling, and the bar felt like it was a thousand degrees inside. “What’re they doing here, anyway? I thought you and Rosenbum were pulling each other’s hair this week.”

“Only place in town that serves decent tap and’s relatively unknown to the college circuit.”

“Yeah, and how long’s that gonna last when they’re in here doing that shit?” Jared gestured over as raucous laughter spilled from across the room. His brows lowered when Mike slung an arm around Jen’s shoulders, pressing their cheeks together and whispering something with a stupid grin on his face. Jen laughed in response, and Jared’s fingers gripped the glass tighter.

“Dude, you’re messed up.” There was a faint hint of sympathy in Tom’s tone, but Jared was too busy worrying about getting drunk to worry about what his friend might be thinking.

Only Tom would not shut. The fuck. Up.

“Why don’t you just talk to him? This is pretty pathetic.”

“Hmph,” was all Jared could think to say, then reached over and downed the rest of Tom’s drink, as well. Only it was something with gin, and it fucking burned going down.

“Fuck,” Jared gasped, eyes stinging with tears as he pounded his chest. “Like goddamn cologne.”

“An acquired taste,” Tom agreed, motioning a nearby waitress for another drink while silently communicating that Jared be left alone. She nodded briskly, then headed back to the bar.

“This sucks,” Jared complained, lowering his forehead and rolling it across the gritty table. “I’m so bored, man.”

“You’re such a great date, too,” Tom replied sarcastically. “And to think, I gave up a night of marital bliss for this shit.”

“Eh, it’s all downhill after the first year anyway.”

“Seriously, what the hell’s gotten into you?” Tom sighed, really sounding concerned now. “Usually you’re blowing sunshine up everyone’s ass, but lately you’re just moping around and acting like someone killed your dogs. This can’t just be over your fight with Jen.”

The fuck it couldn’t.

It’d been three weeks since the infamous ‘incident’, and in that time things had gone from cool to downright frosty between the two co-stars. Fortunately, it seemed to add an extra layer of tension to their characters that the network loved, but not-so-fortunately, it just made Jared depressed.

He missed Jensen, the asshole. Missed talking to him, joking with him, seeing him outside of work. Now the only times they ever ran into each other on their off-days was during group outings, and then Jen usually had Rosenbaum hanging off of his shirtsleeve like a goddamned bald bodyguard.

His eyes narrowed as Mike shot a look in their direction, then said something that had Jensen’s mouth flattening. Sweat began to pool at Jared’s temples, and he absently muttered, “Sandy and I broke up.”

“What? When?” Tom seemed surprised, and Jared couldn’t blame him. He’d yet to mention anything about the end of his longest relationship to date, to anyone. Once upon a time, Jensen would’ve been the first person he told. But it was hard to tell your friend that you’d broken up with a girl over him.

Not that Sandy really had any idea that it was about Jensen. She’d assumed, rightfully so, that there was someone else in the picture, and it’d been hard enough as it was without rubbing it in her face that she just wasn’t what he wanted…on any level. God help him.

At least it was done, with minimal damage to either side.

Jared tugged at his collar uncomfortably. “It hot in here to you?” When Tom merely looked at him, he groped for another drink, the sound of Jensen’s husky laughter grating on his nerves. “Last week,” he managed, remembering that Tom had asked him a question. “Just wasn’t working, you know?”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Tom replied with genuine empathy. “That sucks.”

“What sucks?” Mike’s gleeful voice resonated, and Jared glanced up to find the pair headed toward them.

“This song,” he mumbled, catching the faint strains of some unidentifiable girl band. “Gotta piss.”

“Thar she blows!” Mike drawled, making a show out of moving out of Jared’s way as he shot up from his seat. “Second door on the right, straight on ‘til morning!”

Jared flipped him off, avoiding looking at Jensen as he shoved away from the table toward the restrooms in the back. His legs were shaking, and his stomach felt like a bubbling pool of nausea.

He took one look in the mirror and nearly cracked up. Christ, if his stylist could see him now. Bloodshot eyes complete with dark circles, rumpled hair that’d seen better days shoved up inside a toboggan. He looked like the poster boy for Drunken Loser.

He splashed cold water on his face, leaning forward to further study himself when the door slapped shut again behind him. He didn’t bother to look. He could feel that it was Jensen.

“Tom wanted to let you know Jamie called. He had to get back.”

Jared grabbed a paper towel, wiping his face. “Great. Thanks.” He was careful to keep his tone carefully modulated, erasing every hint of “Oh, God, please, Jen” from his expression.

Jensen was quiet for so long that Jared assumed he must have left, therefore he nearly jumped out of his skin when Jensen’s voice rang out again.

“You need a ride?”

Yeah, right. Like he was going to take a charity offer from some pissed-off co-worker. “No, I got…” he trailed off, realizing Tom had been the one to pick him up. Judging by Jensen’s expression, he was well-aware of that fact, too. “Well, hell.”

“Come on.”

“No way, man,” Jared evaded Jensen’s grasp, knees nearly buckling as his fingers gripped the countertop. Suddenly everything seemed too bright and fuzzy, and he blinked as two Jensen’s stood staring at him. He let out a thick laugh. “Holy Hell…just what I fucking need.”

“Jared!” Concern etched into Jen’s voice. “You all right?”

“Course I’m…fuckin’ aw…right,” Jared managed, speech dissolving into a blur of rounded consonants and vowels. He barely felt it when his legs finally gave out beneath him, but he sure as hell felt it when he cracked his head on the side of the trash bin.

As if from far away he heard Jensen curse, then strong arms were lifting him off of cold tile, cradling him almost too gently as a deep voice spoke hurriedly to someone just outside Jared’s realm of comprehension.

He passed out two times on the way to the hospital.

The first time, he opened his eyes and saw some random white guy with a goatee peering down at him. Flashing lights and a siren in the distance.

The second time, Jen was there. His green eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with emotions that hurt Jared’s brain to put a name to.

“Hey,” he said softly, “scared me, Jare.”

“So damn pretty,” Jared slurred, drugs pumping pleasantly through his system. “Why are you so fucking pretty?”

A soft snort came from somewhere to his left, and Jared craned his neck to find Goatee Guy scribbling across a thick pad of paper. He caught Jared’s eye and said, “You’re lucky your friend got you here when he did. Nobody ever takes the flu seriously, and you caught a nasty case of it.”

Ah, hell. That explained the increasingly crappy feelings he’d been suffering from over the course of the past week. He should have guessed vitamin popping didn’t do a damn thing against freaking Canadian weather.

“When can he get out of here?” Jensen asked, shifting to address the doctor. His side brushed against Jared’s hand, and Jared’s fingers twitched in response as he half paid attention to whatever Jen was saying. “We’re in the middle of filming…sweeps…really important…”

“I want to fuck you again, Jensen.”

The room fell dead silent, then Jensen let out a strangled laugh that fell flat. “He’s…he’s pretty out of it, huh?”

The doctor lifted a brow, but nodded. “He developed a mild bacterial infection, and combined with the medication we gave him for the fever—”

“Jen,” Jared said again, feeling like he was floating on a cloud somewhere no one could bother them. “Did you hear me?”

“Later, damn it.” Jensen’s voice shook, or maybe it was Jared’s imagination. Either way, he shrugged and closed his eyes again as the doctor continued speaking.

When he woke up again, everything was dark. Jared groaned out as the pain of a thousand needles seemed to stab him all at once, and he started to lift his head to take in his surroundings when a hand closed around his wrist, a sleepy voice saying, “Whassit? Jared?”

Jensen’s face appeared over him then, a shadow of beard shading his jaw, eyes heavy, hair disheveled.

Jared could only stare. “Jensen?”

Jensen reached over and flipped on a light, illuminating the fact that Jared was back in his own apartment, laid up in bed. Jensen was in a chair a few feet away, leaning over him with a look of concern masking exhausted features. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out rough and groggy when he answered, “I’m here, man. What do you need? Are you hungry? You should probably eat…I’ll go make something.”

Jared watched him leave in confusion. Considering the temperature of their current relationship, Jensen Ackles was the last person Jared would’ve expected to find playing nursemaid for him. And yet, he had vague memories of Jensen riding with him to the hospital.

Jensen arguing with the doctor to let him leave, because he knew how much hospitals freaked Jared out.

Jensen, apparently, bringing him home and staying up at his bedside for whatever Jared might need.

What the hell was happening here, anyway?

A sharp pain throbbed, and Jared winced, raising his hand to finger the bandage taped across his forehead. Friggin’ great. So not only had he passed out like a woman, twice, but he’d brained himself, as well.

He had the fleeting question of whether or not he’d thrown up in front of Jensen, and immediately felt like an idiot for caring.

“Yeah, so, it isn’t prime rib but after seeing what’s in the fridge…I didn’t think you’d notice,” Jensen called out a few minutes later, clambering up the stairs and appearing in Jared’s doorway. He held a plate in his hands, a sandwich cut into four equally precise portions resting on top of it.

Jared had to snort. “Did you cut off my crusts, too?”

“Shut up and eat.”

Jared accepted the plate, eyeing the sandwich curiously. Bologna and cheese, with globs of mustard. He smirked, knowing what a concession that had to have been for a guy like Jensen. He took a bite, and his stomach growled noisily. “Oh, yeah.”

Jensen had taken his seat again, watching Jared eat in happy silence. Then, “Maybe we should check your temperature.”

Jared paused to swallow. “Considering the only thermometer I have around here is one used to stick up babies butts, I think I’ll pass.”

Jensen blinked, and then made a face. “You know what, don’t even explain, okay?”

Jared just grinned. Jen’s cell phone rang, and while he was on the line, Jared snuck glances at his friend from beneath his lashes. He still had so many questions…chief among them being Why was Jen here?.

The food hit the spot, and he could practically feel the strength returning to his limbs. He still felt a bit groggy, but all in all, he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of bed. He wasn’t used to laying around being helpless. He needed to do something.

“Okay, sounds good,” Jen was speaking to whomever was on the phone, and Jared snapped his gaze to the plate as Jen turned the phone off and turned back around. “Yeah, so, that was Kim.”

“And?” Jared began to feel queasy at the thought that he might be responsible for holding up filming when they were on such a tight schedule as it was.

Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, twisting his head around as muscles popped. “They’re gonna go ahead and film the vamp sequences, give you a few days to recover.” His expression took on a serious glint. “And if you ever do something like this again, he’ll kill you.”

“Me?” Jared bleated, holding an offended hand to his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d just been thinking the exact same thing, to have Jensen glaring at him like that… “I got sick, man!”

“Yeah, and you didn’t tell anyone until it was too late,” Jensen shot back. “Jesus, Jared, when are you gonna grow up and act responsibly?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jared snapped, throwing the plate on the ground and sitting up. The sheet fell to his waist, exposing his naked chest. Jensen’s gaze fell, but Jared was too pissed off to notice. “Suddenly I’m not responsible?, Jen?”

“You’re gonna tell me you just didn’t notice you had the flu?” Jensen replied sarcastically, arms folded across his chest. “There were no symptoms you could have mentioned?”

“Did you notice?” Jared snapped, then wanted to sink into the floor as Jen’s eyes flicked to his. His gaze was hot, and Jared’s head began to pound. “Dude…we were filming for hours a day, and you didn’t notice, either. No one did. So fuck off.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?”

Jared wasn’t even sure they were talking about him being sick anymore, and thrust his chin out defiantly when Jensen strode forward.

“I guess it’s also my fault that you went out and got plastered with Welling, and ended up busting your head open on a dirty bathroom counter,” Jensen continued, his voice rising as he got right in Jared’s face.

“Well, at least I didn’t get my hand broken in a bar fight again,” Jared returned snottily. “You know, helping out a responsible friend and all.”

“You…goddamn, immature…”

One second they were breathing heavily, glaring at one another with enough heat to blow up a building. The next, Jared found himself sprawled out on the mattress, Jensen on top of him.

“Fuck you,” Jen muttered hoarsely, his lips buried in Jared’s neck. He bit down, chasing the sting away with his tongue. “You sonofabitch.”

Before Jared could wrap his head around what was really happening, Jensen was gone.


______________________________________________________



Lesson # 6: Some Mistakes Are Too Much Fun to Make Only Once.


“Well, I’m taking off,” Jeffrey slapped Jared hard on the back, covered in fake blood and still sporting the creepy contacts used for the close-ups he’d just finished filming.

Jared paused his PSP, looking up with a smile. “Gotta get to LA?”

“Oh, yeah. You know they pay me more.”

“Uh huh…like staring at Katherine Heigl’s tits is better than working with me,” Jared scoffed. He looked back down at his game, a brow cocked. “You’ll be back.”

“Let’s not get mushy, kid.” Jeff turned on his heel and started for the guest trailers. “See ya around.”

“You’ll be back!” Jared yelled, breaking into a grin as Jeff shot him a look over his shoulder, then chuckled. He sank back into his director’s chair and focused on the video game to pass the time until he was needed for another scene.

Someone called his name, and he glanced up, smile at the ready until he found himself abruptly looking at Jensen. Everyone else vanished from his mind’s eye as they stared uncomfortably at one another, Jensen’s hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“It’s a wrap,” he mumbled, and Jared couldn’t help but catch the hint of frustration evident in his friend’s tone. “We’re officially unemployed until the new network makes their final decision in May.”

“Shit,” Jared answered slowly, feeling the weight he’d been suppressing the past few weeks finally come tumbling down on top of him. “But…I thought they wanted to redo those last few shots in the Impala?”

Jensen cleared his throat, not quite meeting’s Jared’s eyes. He traced his jaw with a thumb, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. “Eric, uh, was satisfied. It’s over, man.”

And just like that, it was.

There didn’t really seem to be anything else to say, so Jared just gave a numb nod as Jensen inclined his head and turned to leave. He paused, glancing back at Jared, then walked on.

Jared watched him go, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. And this time, he knew it wasn’t the damn flu. It was knowing that he’d quite possibly just said goodbye to someone in his life with whom he had some serious unfinished business.

By some unspoken agreement, he and Jensen hadn’t mentioned the awkward moments that had taken place in Jared’s bedroom a little over two months ago. They came to work, did their job, and hammed it up for the network, but any real interaction had been severed the minute Jensen had taken off that day.

Jared knew that people were starting to talk about them; Mike and Tom didn’t bother to hide their curiosity whenever they were all together, and even Eric and Jeff had both taken to pulling him and Jen aside and asking if there was anything they should know about.

Sometimes Jared almost wanted to tell them the truth, just to see the expressions that would be sure to follow. And then he realized, hell, he didn’t even know what the truth was.

Tom must’ve told Jensen about his breakup with Sandra; because he’d caught Jen looking at him oddly on more than one occasion as the days went by without Sandy bouncing on the set to greet him. But it was, of course, never mentioned.

“Hey, what’re you still doing here?” one of the crew stepped up, hoodie pulled tight over his head as he regarded Jared curiously. “Storm’s coming in. If I were you, my ass would already be at home.”

“Right,” Jared managed, blinking twice and coming to his feet. “Yeah, let me just…” He thumbed in the general direction of his trailer and started backing away. The crewman shook his head and turned to someone else as drops of rain began to fall from the sky. As he walked, Jared mentally pumped himself up.

They’d be back. Of course they would. The show’s ratings were drawing in more and more people every week, they were receiving high praise from critics everywhere…there was absolutely no reason for him to worry.

Hiatus was usually a time he looked forward to, a time to freaking relax and get a much-needed break, spend some time away from the people you saw too damn much of every day for months on end. God only knew he should feel that way now.

But he was dreading the months away from Supernatural. Away from Jensen, especially with the way they’d apparently left things.

Sometimes Jared wondered if he’d made the damn sex up in his demented brain.

Christ, maybe he’d just go down to North Carolina. Chad’s life was bound to be more fucked up than his own at the moment, regardless.

He was making vague plans of calling his friend up and cross-checking schedules as he entered his trailer, dragging layers off his body and tossing them into the corner. He felt too dirty and disgusting to wait for a shower at home, so he switched on the hot water and finished stripping off his jeans as the steam began to rise.

It was while the water was washing away the grit from the day’s filming that Jared realized he couldn’t just leave without saying something to Jensen. Even if it was just “Have a nice life.”

He toweled off, debating with himself up until the moment he finally just threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and grabbed a potted plant that someone had left on a table by the door.

He ran the short distance to Jensen’s trailer, rain soaking through the heavy cotton as he pounded on the door, chest rising and falling. Jen probably wasn’t even there, and this was a pointless waste of time. He should probably just turn around, get in his car and leave…

“What the hell?”

He looked up, realizing that the door was open and Jen was staring down at him like he was insane, eyes flicking back and forth between the plant and Jared.

“I, uh…” Jared stared, blinking. Jensen gripped the towel more securely around his hips and lifted a brow. Jared swallowed. “I brought you flowers,” he heard himself saying, and had to bite back the hysterical laugh.

“Jared. That’s a tree.” Jensen looked like he wanted to run far, far away. Jared couldn’t exactly blame him.

I brought you flowers? Oh, Christ Jesus.

He managed a laugh, dropping his gaze to the pot in his hands. Sure enough, he immediately recognized it as a Japanese maple tree – one of his mama’s favorites. “Well, look at that. It is.” He squinted. “Who the hell gave me this?”

“I thought you were giving it to me,” Jensen questioned wryly, leaning against the side of the door. The action drew the towel apart across his upper thigh, revealing thick muscle. Jared’s eyes fixed on the spot, something heavy and syrupy fogging his brain until he was almost sure his tongue was hanging out.

The flowers-plant-tree-whateverthefuck fell to the ground, and he had his mouth on Jensen’s as lightening flashed across the parking lot. There was a lot of cursing and stumbling around, but he managed to kick the door shut as he and Jensen collapsed on the floor of his trailer. He clawed at the edges of the towel, the thin material ripping in his hands as he tore it from Jensen and threw it blindly across the room.

“Slow down,” Jensen panted, his own hands fumbling at Jared’s zipper. “Jesus, Jared…”

“Dude, I want…” He swallowed hard, biting his lip as Jensen stared up at him. His frustration overflowed, spilling out in a raw voice. “Goddamn it, you know what I want.”

Jensen’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes lit up just slightly. “Yeah,” he rumbled in that deliciously low, shivery voice. He propped himself up on an elbow, lips swollen and hair tousled. “But in the trailer?”

“Who the hell’s gonna bother us?” Jared wondered, eyes dropping to Jensen’s lap where some very interesting things were starting to happen. He reached out, taking hold of Jen’s cock and relishing the sharp breath that followed.

“Fuck.” Jensen spread his legs, falling back on the floor with a groan. “Do that again and I won’t give a shit.”

But Jared had other plans. He released his grip on Jensen, ignoring the sound of protest Jensen uttered, and finished jerking his jeans down. Jensen watched him with hooded eyes, his own hand wrapped around his dick as he lifted an appreciative brow.

“What is this, a strip-tease?”

Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Lay back.”

Jensen’s brows went higher, but he complied with a shrug. Stretching out on the floor, arm behind his head, he eyed Jared curiously and casually stroked himself. Jared muttered a low curse, fumbling his pants over his shoes.

Then he jumped on Jensen, grinding their hips together. Jensen’s voice broke on a suffocated moan. “Fuuuck…”

Jared’s teeth clenched as he stared down into Jen’s flushed face. “This is insane,” he managed, taking hold of Jensen’s leg and lifting it for a better angle. “You and me…fucking hell, Jensen.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

Jensen’s slow drawl was in full force, and it gave Jared a sense of satisfaction to know that it was due to him. Due to whatever this crazy chemistry between them was.

He reared back, ignoring the shocked gasp as he swallowed Jensen’s cock. Jensen lifted his hips, sputtering every curse in the book, and some Jared hadn’t heard of, fucking Jared’s mouth like he was going for the World Record.

It was…weird. Weird, but hot.

When Jensen reached down to slip a finger between his dick and Jared’s cheek, Jared relaxed. Jensen’s other hand gripped his neck, pushing Jared closer, muttering dirty phrases beneath his breath as he twitched in Jared’s mouth.

Jared knew right then and there that there was nothing fucking hotter than Jensen Ackles, eyes bright and sinful, begging you to “Suck me harder.”

Jensen eagerly returned the favor, and things didn’t start to die down until both of them were laid out on the floor, shaking and sweating. Completely spent. It was then that Jared began to feel the bruises that would surely begin to pop up on his body the next day, and he glanced over to find Jensen wincing himself.

“I need a cig,” Jensen murmured sleepily, running a hand through his close-cropped hair and releasing a heavy breath. “Or a drink.”

“Mmm,” Jared rumbled in agreement. He turned on his side, eyeing Jensen warily. “We gonna talk about this?”

“What, you attacking me in my own goddamn trailer?” Jensen answered, eyes closed and a smile stretching across his lips. “Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. You’re hot for my body, Padalecki.”

Jared snorted, relieved that things wouldn’t dissolve into a big emotional scene. “Bitch.”

“Yeah, I love you, too.”

The words were joking and sarcastic, but they struck a chord in Jared anyway. He rolled over completely onto his stomach, head propped on his arms as he stared at Jensen. “Hey.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, lips curved. “Oh God, you’re a talker, aren’t you?”

But Jared read the anxiety beginning to creep into Jensen’s voice, and knew his friend was remembering the way things had ended the first time. He resolutely stayed silent until Jen finally looked at him, then said, “Listen…what’re your plans coming up?”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Jared took the hint. He scooted closer, fingers running across Jensen’s shoulder as he absently took inventory of a small sprinkling of freckles. “Wanna come to Wilmington? Chad’s about to get a divorce,” he murmured, bending his head to press a kiss against Jensen’s collarbone.

Jen’s chest rose. “Is he even married yet?”

Jared held his gaze and licked. “No.”

Jensen’s hand found him, half-hard and growing. He squeezed, a devilish light in his eyes. “Yeah, man, I’m in.”

____________________THE END_______________________