Jared draws the short straw when it comes to who’s taking the trash out that evening, so while everyone else heads to the living room to crash, tummy’s full, on the couches, Jared ends up lugging the absolutely stuffed plastic bags outside and down the driveway. Jensen looked like he was going to help him, but Jeff grabbed a hold of him and dragged him away.
Jared goes searching for them when he gets back inside, finds them standing in the foyer by the front door. He’s about to walk up to them when he hears what they’re talking about, and he hesitates, lingering in the hallway, just out of sight.
“I like you Misha. I mean, Jensen,” Jeff is saying to Jensen. “To tell you the truth, from Jared’s descriptions of you I thought you’d be some stoned, hippie weirdo. Which honestly, wouldn’t surprise me.”
Jared see Jensen stiffen. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well Jared doesn’t exactly have a history of the best judgment, and he’s gone from one failed relationship to another.” Jeff holds his palms up at what Jared assumes is one of Jensen’s more spectacular glowers. “Listen, I love my brother, I do. But let’s face it, the guy is a bit of a screw up, dropping out of school with only two and half semesters left to his degree, then packing everything up and moving away from his family just to work some dead end factory job making fish tanks.”
“I think you need to give your brother a little more credit,” Jensen tells him, voice tight. “Having your heart ripped out like that can mess up anyone.”
“So you’ve heard about Sandy then.”
Jensen gives a short, tense nod.
Jeff sighs, slumping against the banister of the stairs. “Well it didn’t happen to anyone, it happened to my little brother. And he hasn’t been right, been the same, since.”
“Well he may not be the same,” Jensen snaps, bristling, “but he’s fine. He’s a good guy. He’s funny and smart and kinder than most people I’ve met in my life. And you know what? It might just be this kind of attitude that makes him feel like he has to constantly prove himself to you guys, when he shouldn’t have to prove a thing.”
Jeff stares at Jensen for a long moment. Then he smiles, shaking his head. “At least my brother found a loyal one this time.” He chuckles. “I think you’ll be good for him, and like I said, I like you, so you’ve got big brother’s approval.”
“Well thanks,” Jensen drawls sarcastically. “Not that I need it. Nor does Jared.”
Jeff just shakes his head again, still smiling, and turns away, heading up the stairs. Jensen takes a deep, calming breath and starts back toward the living room, stopping short when he sees Jared standing in the hallway. His eyes flicker from where Jeff was to Jared’s face, grimacing a little when he sees the expression he’s wearing. “Jared…” he starts.
Jared holds up a hand, cutting him off. Without a word he walks past Jensen and out the front door to the porch. He collapses on the top step, staring blindly at the stars. He hears the soft click of the door being shut behind him and knows Jensen is behind him, feels the weight of his gaze.
“A screw up, huh?” he mutters bitterly. “I mean, I always suspected that’s what they all thought about me, but it’s different hearing it.” He picks at a fray in his jeans. “Worse,” he mumbles.
Behind him, Jensen takes a breath, preparing to say something. Maybe something sarcastic and caustic about how of course he’s a screw up, after all he’s a kidnapper, or maybe something nice, meant to console him. He doesn’t think he can handle either right now.
“Thanks,” he says quickly, before the other man can speak. “For what you said in there. I mean, I know it was just for show--part of the whole fake boyfriend thing--but thank you.” He laughs humorlessly. “I would look really pathetic if my own boyfriend didn’t stick up for me.”
There’s a short moment of silence and then:
Jared looks over his shoulder, surprised. “What?”
“For show,” Jensen clarifies, voice firm. “What I said back there wasn’t for show.”
Jared snorts derisively, turning back around. “Yeah, I’m sure you think the man who kidnapped you is great guy.”
Jensen huffs out a breath and walks to the edge of the porch, sitting down next to Jared on the top step. “You’re not a bad guy,” he tells him. “And I could tell right away that you were at least less crazy than Chad.”
Jared laughs a little. “It’s hard not to be.”
“True.” Jensen’s lips quirk into a smile. “But Jared,” he continues seriously, “it’s also true what I said back there. You don’t need their approval. Mostly because you already have it.” When Jared looks skeptical, Jensen gives a little frustrated sound in his throat. “You have no idea how lucky you are do you?” He asks, peering intently at Jared’s face in the dark. “No idea what I would give to have a family like yours. They love you Jared, and they accept you for everything you are. There hasn’t been an awkward glance or snide remark--with the exception of your cousin Rodger--”
“Asshole,” Jared mutters absently.
Jensen gives a little smile of agreement. “--the whole time I’ve been here. They are absolutely supporting of you, no matter what. And all of Megan and Ben’s suspicious questions and even what happened with Jeff back there--it’s all because they care about you, because they want to protect you. You’re not a disappointment to your family, Jared. Take it from someone who knows.”
Jared doesn’t know what to say to all that, what to think, so he latches on to the last part. “Someone who knows?” he repeats curiously.
Jensen lets out a slow breath and looks away, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring out at the sky, much like Jared’s pose at the beginning of this conversation. He’s quiet for so long that Jared starts wishing he never asked the question at all. He doesn’t really have the right, after all, to pry into Jensen’s life. He’s just about to suggest they head back inside when Jensen finally speaks.
“My parents disowned me.”
Jared sucks in a breath, shocked.
“I mean,” Jensen continues without looking at him. “Not officially. That would look bad.” He gives a bitter chuckle. “And god knows it’s all about appearances for them. I guess they got tired of having a gay activist son who used his job at Daddy’s law firm to fight his battles.”
Jensen is quiet for a moment, staring pensively across the dark street. “At first they just pressured me to stick to the low profile cases, minor law suits and all that, things that wouldn’t get me any notice from the press. But I was good.” Jensen says suddenly, forcefully. “I don’t know if it was growing up with it or hell,” he laughs wryly, “just the old man’s genes, but I was good. Graduated top of my class at law school. And here I was being shoved in the back, buried right along with those cases they didn’t really want to take. You know,” he slants Jared a sarcastic look. “The embarrassing ones they don’t want to be associated with, or the ones that would bring up too much political controversy. So I took them, and I made people notice them.”
He turns to look at Jared, leans forward with a little smile. “I had this case, it was this transgender who was suing an all woman’s gym because they wouldn’t give her a membership. Oh, she was fierce this woman, she was not going to be shuffled off to the side with some meaningless platitudes, and I liked that about her.” He laughs, a real one this time.
“When we won the case--and the story, of course, made it to the papers--it was the last straw for my dad. He told me if I left the firm quietly, and didn’t contact them anymore, I’d get to keep my trust fund. And god help me but I did. I left quietly.”
Jensen turns back to the empty street, cradling his head in his palms and staring bleakly at the wooden steps. “All that fighting, and all those speeches I gave about not letting people push us to the side as if we didn’t exist, and when it came down to it I let them do the same thing to me. It just…hurt too much.” Jensen grits out, voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to drag it out, so I took my trust fund--my fucking hush money--and left.”
Jensen’s shoulders are hunched, voice filled with self loathing. Jared lifts one hand uncertainly, wanting to grasp Jensen’s shoulder or rub his back or pull him into a hug, something, but he’s not sure if any of that would be welcome so he hesitates, pulls his hand back.
“I hate it,” Jensen says harshly, voice raw. “I hate that I let them do that to me. I should have fought them, should have splashed the story all over the fucking newspapers: ‘Named Partner at Big Time Law Firm Fires Son for Being Gay‘.” Jensen snorts, shaking his head. “But I didn’t. And sometimes I hate myself for not fighting so fucking much that I can’t stand it.”
At that, Jared can’t help himself. Welcome or not, Jared scoots closer on the step, reaching one hand out to grip firmly on Jensen’s shoulder before smoothing his palm across his back. Jensen takes a shaky breath at the touch. “You shouldn’t,” Jared tells him. “No one can fight all the time, and I can’t imagine anyone blaming you for not wanting to go through the pain that would come with fighting your family on that.”
“I blame me,” Jensen says shortly. Jared just keeps rubbing his hand up and down Jensen’s back, light and soothing. Jensen sighs heavily and leans into the touch, leaning his head back so his face is to the sky, eyes closed. The dim light from the lamp across the street highlights his profile, catching on the sharp angle of his cheekbone, the slope of his nose, the dip below his puffy bottom lip, lets Jared see how his whole expression is tight with tension. He can see the muscles in Jensen’s jaw work, like he’s clenching and unclenching it, see his brows furrowed against tightly scrunched eyes.
“I have a nephew.” Jensen suddenly says, opening his eyes to catch Jared’s on him. “Peyton. He’s six. I haven’t seen him since he was two. My sister Mac still calls me every now and then, but Josh… well lets just say he didn’t exactly disagree with our father, and he doesn’t think his faggot brother would be a good influence on his son.”
“Jesus, Jen.” Jared breathes out, and Jensen smiles sadly.
He shrugs. “I stopped sending Christmas gifts after the first two years.”
They don’t say anything for a while. Jared has stopped rubbing Jensen’s back, instead hooking his hand around Jensen’s left shoulder so that his arm is wrapped loosely around him, almost pulling Jensen into his side. They sit like that for a while, quiet on the steps of the porch, listening to the soft sounds of the night and each other’s breathing.
A thought suddenly hits Jared. “You said your dad has his own law firm?”
Jensen laughs softly against him, peering over his shoulder to smile at Jared, mischievous eyes glittering in the dim light. “You know, you never asked me what my last name is.”
Jared swallows. “What is it?”
His jaw drops. “You mean Ackles as in Ackles, Kripke and Morgan?” he practically squeaks, eyes wide.
Jensen smirks at him. “Mmm-hmm. Yep.”
“Oh god,” Jared moans, burying his face in his hands. “I kidnapped the son of the owner of a multi-million dollar law firm. I’m going to rot in jail. For life.”
Jensen lets out a loud laugh, shaking against Jared’s shoulder. “Well,” he says, still laughing, “you are a sorry excuse for a kidnapper. I mean, I know your whole name, I know where you live, hell, I know where your family lives. What did you think you were going to do after all this was done, slip me an amnesia pill?”
“I don’t know,” Jared moans into his hands. “I just didn’t think about it, I guess. This whole thing is Chad’s fault anyway. Never listening to him again. Ever,” he says into his palms, voice muffled.
Jensen’s still laughing at him. “Don’t worry, Jared. You’re not going to jail.”
Jared lifts his head, looking at Jensen in surprise. “I’m not?”
“No.” He smirks again. “I mean, I’d feel kind of horrible sending a guy to jail who’s so pathetic he had to kidnap someone to come to Christmas dinner with him.” It’s not the first time he’s said something along those lines, but this time it’s teasing.
“Hey!” Jared protests. He knocks Jensen’s shoulder with his, grinning. “Like you had anything better to do anyway.”
Jensen raises his eyebrows. “Better? Certainly. But,” his smile grows soft, “maybe not as fun.”
“Did you have fun?” Jared asks seriously. He’d thought Jensen was having a good time today, but he couldn’t be sure. He knows for a fact that Jensen is a fantastic actor.
“Yeah, Jay, I did.” Jensen replies. His voice gets wistful. “Your family is amazing. And they love you. So I don’t think you need to stress out so much about impressing them.”
Jared smiles a little, looking at Jensen. “You called me Jay.”
Jensen ducks his head a little. “Yeah, well, you called me Jen earlier. Besides, it’s your nickname, isn’t it? Everyone in your family says it.”
“Yeah. But I thought you’d hate me too much to use it.”
Jensen raises his head, looks at Jared, unreadable expression on his face. “I don’t hate you, Jared.”
Jared can’t help the goofy smile as he asks softly, “Yeah?”
They’re still shoulder to shoulder, pressed so close that Jared can feel every movement Jensen makes, each breath causing him to move just slightly against Jared. Their faces are less than a foot apart and Jensen doesn’t look down or turn his head, and Jared thinks that maybe, just maybe, if he were to lean forward, and press his lips against Jensen’s, that Jensen wouldn’t mind. He might even kiss back.
“Good,” he breathes and leans forward.
The front door suddenly opens and Jared jerks back, blinking at the sudden flood of light.
“Hey guys, we’re starting this year’s annual showing of It’s a Wonderful Life. You better get in here if you want the good seats.”
Jared thinks he could strangle his sister. Really, really strangle her.
“Thanks,” he forces out between clenched teeth. “We’ll be there in a minute.” Megan shrugs and closes the door.
It seems darker now, night vision ruined by the sudden burst of light from the house, and Jared can’t tell the expression Jensen’s wearing, whether he knows what Jared was about to do, whether he is disappointed that Megan interrupted.
Jensen shifts away. “Well, I guess we better get inside.”
Jared sighs. “Yeah, guess so.”
They stand up, moving awkwardly around each other in the small space of the steps. Jensen gives a little chuckle when they bang their knees together and shakes his head as he moves past him to the door.
“Hey.” Jared snags his wrist and Jensen stops, looking back curiously. “I know I’ve said this before, but thank you. This Christmas would have sucked without you here. And I know I didn’t give you much of a choice, but thanks.”
Jensen studies him, expression indiscernible in the dim light. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly and Jared thinks that this time, he might actually mean it.
Shortly after George Bailey decides the world is better with him in it and the angel Clarence earns his wings, the family heads off to bed. The kids are already asleep, having passed out from too much food and too much excitement around the time George started trying to lasso the moon, and Jeff and Jared carry them upstairs, Jared’s smile soft as he tucks the tiny sleeping form of Maddie against his chest.
Jensen follows them up, holds the door to Jeff’s room open so that they can lay the kids down on the small mattress set up for them on the floor. Jared’s careful as he puts her down, brushing the hair away from her face and pulling the covers up to her shoulders. Despite the conversation with Jeff that he’d over heard he smiles warmly at his brother, wishing him and Laura Merry Christmas as he leaves the room.
They’re quiet as they get ready for bed. Jensen changes in the bathroom, like usual, but it feels ridiculous at this point, unnecessary. He stares at his own reflection as he brushes his teeth, but doesn’t analyze it, doesn’t try to force a scowl on his face, or try to talk himself out of anything. He just brushes his teeth, spits and packs up his toothbrush, hitting the light on his way out.
Jared’s already in bed when Jensen gets back to the room, near the wall. He stares at Jensen, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, but then just shakes his head, reaching for the light. Jensen crawls into bed, pulls the blankets over himself.
Jared doesn’t reach for the handcuffs.
That night Jensen can’t sleep. Neither one of them are lying on their back or their stomach, but instead on their sides, back to back. He can almost feel the heat coming from Jared on his back, feels hyper aware of just how little space there is separating them in the dark room. He focuses on Jared’s breathing, unconsciously trying to match his own with them.
Beside him, Jared suddenly rolls over and Jensen tenses. He can feel Jared looking at him in the dark, and he’s caught between the urge to stay still, keep pretending thats he’s asleep or just turning over, and looking right back.
There’s just a few inches separating them now, and Jensen can feel the air shift as Jared sits up on his elbow, the movement accompanied by the soft shush of the blanket falling as he rests his hand softly, hesitantly, on Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen sucks in a shaky breath.
Jared’s thumb moves slowly up and down, up and down along his shoulder blade before he trails his palm down Jensen’s arm and to his side, resting it on his hip.
Jensen doesn’t move away.
“Jen?” Jared whispers hoarsely. His breath puffs along the back of Jensen’s neck.
Slowly, he rolls onto his back, looking up at Jared‘s shadowed form. He can barely see Jared in the dark room, the weak light from the window just enough to make the outline of his face visible in the dark. Still, he could guess at what his expression would tell, knows the question spoken with just his name.
He reaches up, wraps his hand along the back of Jared’s neck and pulls his face down to his.
The kiss is soft, just a brush of lips and warm air puffed against skin in the dark. It’s Jensen who deepens it, tightening his fingers in Jared’s hair and opening his mouth against Jared’s, tongue flickering out against his bottom lip. Jared sucks in a small breath, almost a gasp, before he opens his own in response.
Jared’s hand moves from his hip, sliding up Jensen’s side to curl around his arm, but the touch is tentative, hesitant almost, like he’s afraid Jensen might change his mind, and his body looms, steady and strong, above Jensen’s, careful not to touch. Jensen pulls away, blinking up at Jared’s face in the dark. He can feel the heat from Jared’s body, just inches from his own, the humidity of their shared breaths on his lips.
“Jared,” he whispers. He slides his hands down Jared’s back to rest on his hips, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of his t-shirt and stroking the warm skin there. The muscles of his stomach flinch slightly at the touch and he can feel Jared shudder above him. “It’s alright.” With that he gives a small tug, pulling Jared’s body down to fit against his.
Jared gasps as they come into contact and Jensen leans up, muffling the sound against his lips. He slips his hands beneath Jared’s shirt as they kiss, softly like before at first, then increasingly more passionate, running his palms up and down smooth, bed-warmed skin as the kiss dissolves from gentle brushes and nips to the hot, slick slide of tongues.
Jared grips Jensen’s arms, bunching the fabric of his t-shirt in his fist as his hips move rhythmically against Jensen’s. Jensen lifts one leg to wrap around Jared’s thigh and rocks upward and Jared breaks away from the kiss with a groan, burying his face in Jensen’s neck with a pained mutter of “Jen.”
He can feel Jared hot and hard against his hip and he tightens leg around Jared’s, canting upward firmly again. Jared groans into Jensen’s neck and mirrors the slight move, pressing down with his hips and biting at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Jensen hisses at the shock of pleasure and tilts his head back, giving Jared more access to his neck. “Yes,” he whispers as Jared does it again, slipping his hands from Jensen’s arms to under his back, pressing against his shoulder blades. Jared soothes his thigh against Jensen’s erection, nipping at the skin below his ear at the same time and Jensen bucks his hips, gasping.
He fists the material of Jared’s shirt. “Off,” he demands, tugging frantically at the hem. Jared seems reluctant to move away from him, to lose contact, even momentarily, so Jensen runs his fingers lightly up and down Jared’s sides before smoothing over his chest.
Jared still hesitates, and even in the dark Jensen can see how his brow is furrowed, expression twisted in a moment of indecision. He knows that’s his fault: he’s made clear time and time again his anger and resentment toward Jared over the whole kidnapping thing, certainly went out of his way to make Jared feel as uncomfortable and guilty as he possibly could, so he doesn’t blame Jared his hesitance.
He’s not sure when it happened, maybe gradually, maybe abruptly (he’s reminded of the moment under the mistletoe, that split second of passion, of want of something real, something tangible) but that anger and resentment has changed now, and he’ll do all he can to show that to Jared, even if it means he as to take Jared by the hand and show him what he wants.
Jensen’s fingers are deft, helping Jared to lift the cotton material from his long torso. While the shirt is pulled over Jared’s head, Jensen admires the tapered length of chest above him. He touches in fascination the fine form, caressing up and down, wide span of hands flying over the muscles and skimming pert nipples. He isn’t prepared for the full brunt of weight again as Jared’s half-naked frame lands on him and he puffs out a strangled breath.
“Sorry,” Jared chuckles breathlessly. Jensen just shakes his head and arcs back against the pillow as his hands move down to take off his own t-shirt. “Jesus, Jen,” Jared whispers, breathless now for an entirely different reason as he stares down at him, fingertips trailing lightly over the skin on his ribs. The touch tickles, causing Jensen to squirm a little and a small smile flits across Jared’s face before it fades into a serious, distant expression. “I didn’t think…” he says softly, trailing off.
“What?” Jared shakes his head, not meeting his eyes, hands still moving gently up and down Jensen’s sides. Jensen stops them, curling his fingers underneath the palms and pressing them against the skin of his stomach, trapped and still. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. I just…” He still doesn’t look up at Jensen, gaze fixed instead on where Jensen’s hands hold his. He lifts one forefinger, lightly stroking across the sensitive skin on Jensen’s wrist. Finally, he huffs out a breath. “I didn’t think this would happen, you know? Us. Like this.” His eyes look briefly up at Jensen just to flick back down again. “I mean, I hoped. I couldn’t help but hope, even if that was ridiculous. I mean,” he continued to babble, words coming out fast and hushed, “I kidnapped you, after all. I didn’t think you’d forgive me, let alone--”
Jensen reaches up to grip the sides of Jared’s face, cutting him off. He almost forcibly pulls him down and Jared flails a bit before catching himself, landing with his forearms on either side of Jensen’s head, bracketing him in. Jensen presses his cheek against the side of Jared’s face, nuzzling into the soft hair by his ear. “I know,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think this would happen either.” His fingers delve into Jared’s shaggy hair, rubbing back and forth over his scalp, grinning when he feels Jared give a small shudder. He presses that grin into the skin between his ear and jaw. “Can’t say I’m unhappy it did though.”
Jared finally relaxes against him, hands going back to their exploration, skimming over Jensen’s shoulders and collarbone before sliding down his sides again. He feels Jared’s hands catching on his sleep pants, tugging on the loose elastic band as he compulsively makes a fist in the material. Jensen places a kiss to the underside of Jared’s jaw and moves to slide down Jared’s own pants. As soon as they’re thrown over the side of the mattress with their pile of t-shirts, Jensen’s guiding Jared’s hands back to his hips.
He immediately throws off Jensen’s hands and takes over undressing him, slinking down Jensen’s body and pressing hot, wet kisses across his chest and onto his stomach. He lingers just below Jensen’s navel, the hot breath ghosting over the skin there enough to make Jensen tremble. Jared tugs again at the elastic of his pants and Jensen lifts his hips to help him slide them off, closing his eyes when that just causes him to press up closer against Jared’s body.
Once he’s rid Jensen of the pants Jared slides back up, fitting himself back between Jensen’s spread thighs. He‘s panting slightly, and Jensen’s not much better, breath exhaling in a groan at the slide of skin on skin as Jared presses against him, nothing but the material of their boxers separating them. There’s a single drop of sweat slipping down the hairline of Jared’s neck and Jensen reaches up, spreading the droplet over the bare skin before smoothing down Jared’s back to slip beneath the elastic waist of the boxers and palm the curve of his ass.
He urges Jared to thrust against him, wants to feel the power behind it, the clench and release of muscles. He can feel the heat of Jared’s cock through his boxers, and revels in the thrill of lust that runs through him as Jared thrusts into the groove of his hip, the knowledge that it’s only a scrap of cloth keeping Jensen from really feeling it against him. Jensen arcs back with a small cry and Jared uses the opportunity to put his lips on his neck again, nipping lightly at the tendons before moving to suck at the pulse point beneath his jaw.
He’s got one hand holding Jensen down, and the other slips between their bodies, the back of his knuckles brushing along the line of his chest. He cups Jensen through his boxers and Jensen shudders as he rubs a thumb along the wet spot, digging his nails into Jared’s ass as Jared presses firmly just below the head. He lets go suddenly, but only to dip his hand beneath the elastic of his shorts.
Jensen hisses at the feel of a dry palm scraping against the leaking tip of his cock, eyes slitting when Jared curls his fingers along the length, pulling in a torturously slow rhythm. He opens his mouth to tell Jared to go faster, harder, he just needs more, damn it, but Jared chooses that moment to lean down and catch his lips in a kiss. It’s not soft anymore, but hard and impatient, breaths stolen and shared in desperate gasps and harsh pants between the hot slick of tongues and the near-clanging of teeth. Jensen captures Jared’s tongue with his own, sucking on it, pulling a needy groan from Jared, but still he keeps the pace of his hand on Jensen steady and slow, driving him mad.
Impatient, Jensen yanks at Jared’s underwear, pulling them down to bunch at mid thigh. He knocks Jared’s hand away and does the same to himself, grasping Jared’s hips to pull him tightly against him. Jensen lets out a sigh of relief at the skin contact, and starts guide Jared’s hips in a steady roll. Jared slides one thigh between Jensen’s legs and braces himself with his knee to better the angle and Jensen can’t help the moan he lets out.
“Shh…” Jared whispers, lips barely brushing against Jensen’s as they curl into a smile. “You gotta be quiet. Kids in the next room, remember?” He takes over the pace, taking Jensen’s hands away from his hips to pull them above his head, long fingers circling his wrists and pressing them down into the pillow.
Jensen smirks. “Gonna get those cuffs out now?” he teases, flexing his wrists against Jared’s grip.
Jared shakes his head. “No,” he says hoarsely, rocking his hips forward. He releases Jensen’s wrists only to slide his hands up, threading their fingers together. “Like it just--” he grunts as Jensen arches against him. “Just like this,” he finishes with a hiss, eyes screwing shut.
Their pace picks up, Jensen wrapping one leg around Jared’s thigh to rut up into the groove of his hip, slick with sweat and pre-come, and Jared buries his face in the dip of Jensen’s shoulder, panting and shuddering as they move. At one point Jensen deliberately brushes his thigh against the sensitive skin behind Jared’s balls and Jared let’s out a sharp cry, sinking his teeth into the muscle of Jensen’s shoulder as if to stifle it.
Oh yeah, Jensen thinks distantly, breathing in the smell of shampoo from Jared’s hair and licking away the salt on his lips from the sweat on Jared’s hair line, kids in the next room. He does it again anyway. Jared’s hips jerk, losing rhythm, and Jensen can tell that he’s close. He breaks the grip Jared has on one wrist to trail his hand down Jared’s back, soothing.
“Come on,” Jensen whispers into Jared’s hair. He gives the hand he’s holding a gentle squeeze. “Let go.”
Jared does, sucking in a sharp breath as his hips stutter against Jensen’s, muscles stiffening as he suddenly goes still, whole body quivering with tension as he comes, like a rubber band stretched almost to the point of snapping, before the tension is released, muscles relaxing with a soft groan.
Close to coming himself, Jensen pants, thrusting up sharply. He groans deeply, tightening the leg around Jared’s--whose full weight is now on him--to try and get a better angle, and let’s out a frustrated noise in the back of his throat when he doesn’t manage it.
Jared rouses, pulling up and slipping a hand between them to wrap around Jensen again. He grips him firmly, pulling roughly at a fast pace, thumb skimming over the head of his cock every now and then. Jensen lets out a gasp and rocks into his fist, wrapping one arm around Jared’s waist while the other comes up to hold onto his biceps, bracing himself.
Jared bends down, brushes his nose against the shell of Jensen’s ear. “Jen,” he murmurs lowly, breath hot and damp against Jensen’s neck as he gives a particular twist of his wrist.
That’s it. Jensen comes, arching his body up away from the bed and into the line of Jared’s body, head tilting back, mouth open as he sucks in a desperate breath.
He slumps back down, panting, and Jared’s hands gentle, then let go. Jensen feels heavy and lax, body tingling from the orgasm and he just lies there and breathes, trailing his fingers lightly back and forth over Jared’s lower back. Jared shifts to the side a little, but doesn’t move away, and Jensen smiles a little at the feel of lips brushing across his right eyebrow.
He’s close to drifting off when Jared sits up with a reluctant groan. “Come on,” he says quietly, tugging at Jensen’s arm.
“Huh?” Jensen blinks blearily up at him.
“We gotta get cleaned up. There’s no way I’m risking one of my family members coming in tomorrow morning and seeing us like this.” Scowling a little, Jensen allows Jared to pull him up out of bed and groggily follows him out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.
It’s awkward suddenly, away from the dark room and into the harsh fluorescent light coming from the lamp mounted above the bathroom mirror. They’re silent as they clean up, eye contact traded in for side long, surreptitious glances when they think the other isn’t looking. They have to be quiet in order not to wake up Jared’s family, but Jensen doesn’t know what to say anyway. This is unlike any kind of hookup he’d ever experienced before, and he isn’t even sure if it was supposed to be more than that. He wants it to be, sure, but does Jared? And how does he even ask? He can’t exactly be all, So, do you always kidnap guys you want to sleep with and should I expect the same thing next time? now can he?
Not that he really thinks that Jared does this all the time. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just, he hasn’t had anything more than a one night stand in a long time--and even those have been few and far between these last few years--and he’s at a complete loss for what to do next. He imagines Jared hasn’t been too successful in the love department either, or else Jensen wouldn’t be here to begin with, and the thought doesn’t give much comfort.
When they finish Jared gives him a small, awkward smile before flipping off the lights, and Jensen follows him wordlessly back to the bedroom. They crawl back into bed--Jared taking the side by the wall again--pulling up the covers and lying side by side on their backs, not touching. They don’t talk. Jensen can almost feel the uncertainty between them, the air filled with tension, much like the first night they lay in bed.
Worse than that, Jensen thinks glumly.
“Hey, Jensen,” Jared says hesitantly, breaking the silence. “Can I ask you a question?” He doesn’t turn his head from where it rests on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Jensen mirrors his position, eyes locked on the patterns the stucco plaster makes.
He swallows nervously. “Sure.”
“You said you had a trust fund, right? So why go through with this whole thing? Why not just cut your losses, say screw the charity money and then write out a check, save yourself the trouble?”
Jensen brows furrow. That’s Jared’s question? Now of all times?
“I don’t know,” he answers. “I guess it’s just the principal of the thing, you know? These people gave their money to help out the community center and that’s what it should go to. It wouldn’t be the same if I just paid for it. Besides,” he shrugs, “I was planning on matching whatever I raised anyway.”
Jared gives a small chuckle, turning on his side to face Jensen. Jensen frowns a little at the sound, but does the same. Even in the dim light he can see that Jared’s smiling as he stares across the bed at him.
Jared gives a little shake of his head, still smiling. “Nothing. It’s just… you seem far too good to be a lawyer.”
Jensen huffs. “I’ll have you know I was a very good lawyer,” he says, mock seriously. “People feared me, and desperately wanted me on their case at the same time.”
Jared chuckles again. “I’m sure they did.”
They’re quiet again, staring at each other, not even a foot between them. In the corner of his eye Jensen can see Jared fiddling with a loose thread on the comforter.
“Jen?” Jared breaks the silence again.
Jared takes in a shuddery breath. “When we get back to Dallas, do you--I mean, if you want to--” he stutters nervously, fingers twisting the thread tightly around his knuckles.
Jensen quickly scoots forward and kisses him, almost light headed with relief. “Yes,” he breathes against Jared’s mouth. “I want to.”
He feels Jared’s smile against his lips. “Good,” he whispers. He releases his grip on the blanket thread and uses his hand to cup the back of Jensen’s neck, bringing him closer and stroking his thumb along the soft skin below his ear as he deepens the kiss.
Jensen pulls away after a few moments and presses his forehead to Jared’s. “We have to go sleep,” he tells him with a smile. “I’ve spent three days with your family and I already know them to be horrible early risers. Including you,” he teases, pressing another short kiss to his lips.
Jared smiles softly at him. “Alright,” he replies, moving in for another kiss.
Jensen allows it, opening his mouth up to the tease of Jared’s tongue, but pulling away again after a few seconds. “Seriously. We have to sleep.”
Jared gives a fake huff. “Fine,” he pouts.
He rolls his eyes at him, giving him one last peck before turning over onto his other side, back facing Jared. Jared hovers uncertainly behind him, as if not sure what to do, so Jensen reaches behind him and snags his wrist--the same one he’d been cuffed to just last night--and pulls Jared in tightly against his back, tucking the hand he held to his chest. Jared settles in close, bringing his knees up to brush against Jensen’s, slipping one calf in between his, and Jensen can feel the steady cadence of his breath against his neck.
He falls asleep easily.