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wellownedbkupit's about 9 pm, and they've had a really long day in the cold and the snow on its way in. they've pretty much reached the limit of what they can do, and are right now climbing into their ride so Clif can take them home.
and they're still a little amped, you know, about the way they were just on-point today. nailing lines and scenes really efficiently. but it's pretty bittersweet, what with the news about Kim hitting them all. jared's quiet, fingers tapping an unsteady beat on the empty leather seat between him and jensen, thinking about the pranks he'll have to put away, the friend they had in the elder man.
and right now? jensen's got his hand just covering jared's, stilling the beat and giving the boy a little comfort in the shield of a dry, warm hand. they don't slide any closer in the car, don't even look at each other just yet; they're staring out of the window while jared turns his wrist just so so that he's able to tangle his fingers up in jensen's, taking that little bit of comfort as he can.
jensen? well, he's got half a mind to show jared more comfort when they make it back home, after the kids have been let out for their nightly business and jared's standing beside him in the doorway from the kitchen. he can see it already, the way he'll pull jared against him and catch his lips in a kiss that doesn't seem to end, that simmers between them and takes their breath away. and he knows that his hand'll be at the nape of jared's neck, keeping him from pulling away morosely. and jared's hands will be bracketing him against the wall.
right now? they're about 5 minutes away from set, and jensen's squeezing jared's hand firmly but gently, wishing them home so he can give jared the comfort he's been craving all day.
(for elle)
you know, this totally means that he could like... fuck jensen up against a wall and not even really feel winded? just like, hold him there, off his feet while jensen's too horny to even complain about being treated like a girl (which he secretly likes anyway because no one can not be turned on by being manhandled for sex by jared).
and, just to prove that he can, while they're still pressed together, while he's driving jensen completely insane with the power of his cock, jared'd hold him up and walk over to the bed to lay him down, and it wouldn't even faze him. jensen would basically explode from the sheer mastery of jared's muscles, and jared would preen and smirk smugly at jensen for weeks, simply because he could lift him for sex, no problem.
(for linds)
jensen purposely calls jared "mr. president" when they're in bed, solely for the choked gasp it gets him every time. he breathes it out along the line of jared's jaw to his ear, letting the words curl like smoke rings in the dark. it's not about reminding either of them about President Padalecki, because who could forget that after 2 years of hard campaigning? no, it's not about that at all.
it's about the way that jared's dick jerks in his hands and gets slicker from the excitement. it's about the way that jared's muscles bunch and stretch as he effortlessly flips them over and grinds jensen into the mattress. how possessive it makes him in the aftermath.
jensen will bite the words into the cords of jared's neck and shiver as he feels jared's fingers split him open, slide wet and thick into him like the barest hint of what will come. jensen's not even remorseful, smirking and rolling his hips back into that touch that's hitting all of his buttons. he'll lick the words into his mouth, sigh as jared presses into him relentlessly until there's no room between them even for a hand to help jensen along.
it can't last. won't, not with the charged air between them, the secret service looming outside the door and the dawn approaching. don't, shuddering down from the stars with shaky breaths and clinging to one another. jensen doesn't even need his glasses on to see the way jared's face relaxes, the pressure of the oval office far from his mind in the wee hours. and just like that, jensen stops caring about the 3 a.m. wake up calls for their nightly run, the circles under his eyes when he has to spend the day meeting with prospective web design clients.
time passes, enough that the light starts to cut through the curtains, creeping out onto the carpet as the sun rises. jensen's up before jared, for once, singing softly as he pulls on his clothes because he's just that happy.
"god, jen... you..." jared has to catch his breath and smiles sweetly at his lover. "you gonna sing at my birthday, norma jean?"
(for jen)
dean's pants keep making a rustling sound while he's rutting up against sam in the broom closet. it's quite possibly the most distracting sound there's ever been and if it wasn't for dean's mouth on his, sam would probably be drifting to the mountain of essays on "hamlet" and deciphering which ones saw a movie and which ones actually read the play.
but he's not thinking about that. he's thinking about dean's cock pressing against his through layers of clothes, the shelf poking under his shoulder blades, and the little whimpers dean keeps making when sam grabs handfuls of his ass and squeezes. he thinks he likes those noises the best, that they're right up there with the gasp he makes just before he comes. but during the schoolday has always been where sam drew the line. making out doesn't count.
dean's really into it at this point, his dorky little headband soaked with sweat and a hickey dark under sam's jawline when the door opens. sam goes cold immediately, shock dampening his arousal to nothing and a blush sneaking up on his cheeks. dean, disappointed at the turn of events, turns a dark glare on the kid and his girlfriend in the doorway.
"the janitor's closet's off limits, kid. get to class or you'll get detention." dean growls it, clapping his hands together when they don't automatically move. "move!" the kids scatter and dean pulls sam out into the hallway once the coast is clear.
the glance between them makes it clear that the closet thing wasn't going to happen again any time soon, and they'd have to finish what they'd started later. sam gives a little smile and turns off to his class, straightening his jacket with the patches on the sleeves and making sure nothing's out of place as he heads into the room.
dean conveniently decides not to mention the chalk dust on his ass. couldn't make it too easy for sammy not to be embarrassed. (for elle)
and they're still a little amped, you know, about the way they were just on-point today. nailing lines and scenes really efficiently. but it's pretty bittersweet, what with the news about Kim hitting them all. jared's quiet, fingers tapping an unsteady beat on the empty leather seat between him and jensen, thinking about the pranks he'll have to put away, the friend they had in the elder man.
and right now? jensen's got his hand just covering jared's, stilling the beat and giving the boy a little comfort in the shield of a dry, warm hand. they don't slide any closer in the car, don't even look at each other just yet; they're staring out of the window while jared turns his wrist just so so that he's able to tangle his fingers up in jensen's, taking that little bit of comfort as he can.
jensen? well, he's got half a mind to show jared more comfort when they make it back home, after the kids have been let out for their nightly business and jared's standing beside him in the doorway from the kitchen. he can see it already, the way he'll pull jared against him and catch his lips in a kiss that doesn't seem to end, that simmers between them and takes their breath away. and he knows that his hand'll be at the nape of jared's neck, keeping him from pulling away morosely. and jared's hands will be bracketing him against the wall.
right now? they're about 5 minutes away from set, and jensen's squeezing jared's hand firmly but gently, wishing them home so he can give jared the comfort he's been craving all day.
(for elle)
you know, this totally means that he could like... fuck jensen up against a wall and not even really feel winded? just like, hold him there, off his feet while jensen's too horny to even complain about being treated like a girl (which he secretly likes anyway because no one can not be turned on by being manhandled for sex by jared).
and, just to prove that he can, while they're still pressed together, while he's driving jensen completely insane with the power of his cock, jared'd hold him up and walk over to the bed to lay him down, and it wouldn't even faze him. jensen would basically explode from the sheer mastery of jared's muscles, and jared would preen and smirk smugly at jensen for weeks, simply because he could lift him for sex, no problem.
(for linds)
jensen purposely calls jared "mr. president" when they're in bed, solely for the choked gasp it gets him every time. he breathes it out along the line of jared's jaw to his ear, letting the words curl like smoke rings in the dark. it's not about reminding either of them about President Padalecki, because who could forget that after 2 years of hard campaigning? no, it's not about that at all.
it's about the way that jared's dick jerks in his hands and gets slicker from the excitement. it's about the way that jared's muscles bunch and stretch as he effortlessly flips them over and grinds jensen into the mattress. how possessive it makes him in the aftermath.
jensen will bite the words into the cords of jared's neck and shiver as he feels jared's fingers split him open, slide wet and thick into him like the barest hint of what will come. jensen's not even remorseful, smirking and rolling his hips back into that touch that's hitting all of his buttons. he'll lick the words into his mouth, sigh as jared presses into him relentlessly until there's no room between them even for a hand to help jensen along.
it can't last. won't, not with the charged air between them, the secret service looming outside the door and the dawn approaching. don't, shuddering down from the stars with shaky breaths and clinging to one another. jensen doesn't even need his glasses on to see the way jared's face relaxes, the pressure of the oval office far from his mind in the wee hours. and just like that, jensen stops caring about the 3 a.m. wake up calls for their nightly run, the circles under his eyes when he has to spend the day meeting with prospective web design clients.
time passes, enough that the light starts to cut through the curtains, creeping out onto the carpet as the sun rises. jensen's up before jared, for once, singing softly as he pulls on his clothes because he's just that happy.
"god, jen... you..." jared has to catch his breath and smiles sweetly at his lover. "you gonna sing at my birthday, norma jean?"
(for jen)
dean's pants keep making a rustling sound while he's rutting up against sam in the broom closet. it's quite possibly the most distracting sound there's ever been and if it wasn't for dean's mouth on his, sam would probably be drifting to the mountain of essays on "hamlet" and deciphering which ones saw a movie and which ones actually read the play.
but he's not thinking about that. he's thinking about dean's cock pressing against his through layers of clothes, the shelf poking under his shoulder blades, and the little whimpers dean keeps making when sam grabs handfuls of his ass and squeezes. he thinks he likes those noises the best, that they're right up there with the gasp he makes just before he comes. but during the schoolday has always been where sam drew the line. making out doesn't count.
dean's really into it at this point, his dorky little headband soaked with sweat and a hickey dark under sam's jawline when the door opens. sam goes cold immediately, shock dampening his arousal to nothing and a blush sneaking up on his cheeks. dean, disappointed at the turn of events, turns a dark glare on the kid and his girlfriend in the doorway.
"the janitor's closet's off limits, kid. get to class or you'll get detention." dean growls it, clapping his hands together when they don't automatically move. "move!" the kids scatter and dean pulls sam out into the hallway once the coast is clear.
the glance between them makes it clear that the closet thing wasn't going to happen again any time soon, and they'd have to finish what they'd started later. sam gives a little smile and turns off to his class, straightening his jacket with the patches on the sleeves and making sure nothing's out of place as he heads into the room.
dean conveniently decides not to mention the chalk dust on his ass. couldn't make it too easy for sammy not to be embarrassed. (for elle)
