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Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
longsufferinglyTitle: Don't Send Me No More Letters, No
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chash
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1440.
Summary: It doesn't really matter what time it is or what he's doing, if Jared calls, Jensen answers. And this time, he's really glad he did.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
salt_burn_porn, from veronamay's prompt late night confessions. Title from Bob Dylan, because my motto is in case of fire, apply Bob Dylan.
Disclaimer: Lies and untruths.
Jensen's phone rings at 4:43. His alarm clock is unnaturally bright, the digital numbers lighting the phone on his bedside table. It's playing "SexyBack," because Jensen foolishly let Jared pick his own ringtone, and he doesn't even think about not getting it.
"Hey," he rasps.
"Sorry, were you asleep?" asks Jared. He sounds tired or drunk, his accent strong and thick, his tongue taking up more of his mouth than it should.
"Don't worry about it," Jensen says quickly. He hasn't seen Jared since Supernatural wrapped two months ago, and he doesn't care what time Jared calls--he always talks to him. No matter what he does, it still feels it like he's missing a part of his side, or maybe a few of his ribs. "What's up?"
"Chad said I was moping," says Jared. "So he took me out to get drunk, and now I am drunk, and I'm still moping."
"Alcohol isn't the cure-all Chad thinks it is," says Jensen.
"I miss you," Jared says. "Chad isn't fun like you. No one is."
"I miss you too," says Jensen, and it feels so inadequate to what the two of them are.
"Why are you in New York," Jared says, barely even a question. "You should be here, with me."
Jensen swallows hard. "It's called a job."
"Mmm," says Jared. He laughs a little. "That's what Chad said. Said if I just gave you a job, you would've stayed."
"Yeah, you could have hired me to be a kept boy," says Jensen, grinning. "Or maybe I could clean your non-existent pool."
"No, no," says Jared, and he can practically hear him shaking his head. "Not like that. Like--god, a blow job. You have any idea how much I want to blow you?"
Jensen freezes. They skirted around this for years--at least, it felt that way to him. There was always the show to think of, and then the friendship, and then it had been so long, he thought it just wasn't going to happen at all. There were years where he thought every conversation would take a sudden turn, just like this, and now that it has, he can barely breathe. He feels like he might drown, right here on his bed, with no one to witness it but Jared, three thousand miles away.
Jared doesn't seem to notice, just keeps talking, like he isn't breaking Jensen's world into little pieces, "God, it feels like all I think about sometimes, getting my mouth on your dick. Or my hands. Having it inside me. You like fucking guys, Jensen? Because I like getting fucked."
Jensen licks his lips, barely able to speak. "Yeah," he manages. He's hard already--it's not like he hasn't been jerking off thinking of Jared for years. It felt like he'd thought of everything, but he never actually considered this, Jared calling him in the middle of the night to--Jesus. "Yeah, Jared, I want to fuck you."
"Thought so, yeah," says Jared. "Saw you looking sometimes. Never knew how I could--thought about just pushing you down and taking, you know?"
Jensen closes his eyes. He can see it so clearly in his minds' eye--Jared stalking in, so huge, ready to take. "Where?"
"Where?" asks Jared, sounding like he always did when Jensen went off script.
"Where would you push me? On the bed, on the couch, on the floor?"
"Up against the wall," Jared says instantly. "Just push you up against the wall and kiss you for a while. Rub up against you, make you crazy."
"You always make me crazy," Jensen admits, pressing the heel of his palm against his dick. "What next? What do you wanna do with me, Jared?"
He hears a wet sound, and a long groan. "Lick my hand," he says, "wrap it around you."
"Don't," says Jensen, roughly. "Don't touch yourself til I tell you what I'm going to do." He smirks, hopes Jared can hear it when he adds, "It's my turn right now."
"Fuck," says Jared. "God, Jensen--are you gonna do it?"
Jensen licks his palm, feeling ridiculous and horny and so fucking happy. He slips his boxers off and wraps his fingers around his dick, moaning at the first contact. "Just tell me how," he says. "How would you jerk me?"
"Hard," says Jared. "Painful. God, Jensen, I'd be so eager, you know. Couldn't hold back."
Jensen does it, fucks his fist hard and fast, holding himself almost too tight, loving the pressure.
"I'd wanna suck you, man. God, I'd just get down on my knees and let you fuck my mouth. I ever tell you I can deep throat?" he asks, and Jensen actually whimpers at the thought. "I want to feel you down there for days. When I talk, I want everyone to be able to hear how deep your dick was in my mouth."
"Jesus fuck," says Jensen, hips bucking off the bed. His hand isn't enough, not hot and wet like Jared's mouth would be. "Yeah, I'd fuck your mouth," he manages. "God, I'd get my fingers in your hair and make you take it, make you choke."
"Yeah," Jared moans. "Would you come in my mouth, or on my face? I don't even care. We're gonna have lots of time for me to learn just how you taste."
"Oh fuck, Jared," Jensen says, feeling a little embarrassed that in the midst of fucking awesome phone sex, it's the idea of permanence, the idea that this isn't one drunken call Jared will regret in the morning, that gets him off, that makes him come into his own hand. "Fuck, Jared, yeah."
He comes down slowly, and then says, almost casually, "I'd put my fingers in your mouth after, make you suck those too." He hears Jared do it instantly, hears Jared's lips moving over his own fingers, and his dick twitches feebly, again. "Get them really slick," he goes on, "because that's all you're getting."
Jared moans. "Jesus, you want me to--"
"One first," says Jensen. "I'd open you up nice and easy. Slow." He lets his accent out, thick and sweet as honey. "I'm a gentleman, y'know."
"Fuck," Jared says breathlessly.
"You got one inside you, Jared? You got a finger in your ass for me?"
"Yeah," Jared manages.
"You must be so hard," Jensen says, "but I'm not touching your dick. Not for a while yet. I'm just feeling you out. You tight, Jared?"
"Fucking--yes, Jensen. God, I'm really fucking tight."
"Get another in there," says Jensen, "because I'm not small. And you want all of me, don't you?"
"Yeah," Jared pants. "God, Jensen, I want--fuck!"
"Yeah, make it good," Jensen says, almost soothing. "Because I'd make it good for you, Jared."
"Fuck, Jensen, I want your fucking hands."
"Yeah, you do. Come on, man, fuck your fingers and pretend it's me. Tell me how much you want me there."
"So fucking--god, can I do another? Jesus, Jensen, I need more."
"Not yet," says Jensen. "I'd drive you crazy, Jared. I'd make you beg."
"Please," Jared says instantly. "Please, please, please--"
"Three," says Jensen. "Slow."
Jared whimpers.
"God, you really do love getting fucked, don't you? You still hard? I never could keep it up."
"So fucking hard," says Jared. "I need--Jensen, please."
It comes out as a sob, and Jensen's hard again too.
"When you're here," says Jensen, a promise, "I'm going to blow you with my fingers in your ass. Drive you fucking crazy. But you just got your hands, so you're gonna have to make do."
"Jesus fucking Christ," says Jared. Jensen can hear it as Jared starts jerking himself, hard and fast and wet. "Jensen," he says, over and over, and Jensen gets his dick in his hand as well, matching Jared's rhythm as best he can. Jared comes first, crying out Jensen's name, and that sends Jensen over the edge.
They come down together, and the world filters in around Jensen. He's alone in his too-big bed in New York, and Jared is on the other side of the country, drunk and maybe regretful.
He licks his lips and swallows, wonders what you're supposed to say after mind-blowing phone-sex with your best friend.
"I could get a flight in the morning," Jared says. "I could be there tomorrow." He laughs a little. "Later today."
Jensen exhales, finds himself smiling. "I could pick you up."
Jared laughs again, stronger and relieved, and Jensen can't wait to kiss him at the airport, in front of god and the whole fucking world. "See you soon," he says.
"Yeah," says Jensen. "Can't wait."
Author:
chashFandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1440.
Summary: It doesn't really matter what time it is or what he's doing, if Jared calls, Jensen answers. And this time, he's really glad he did.
Notes: Written for
salt_burn_porn, from veronamay's prompt late night confessions. Title from Bob Dylan, because my motto is in case of fire, apply Bob Dylan.Disclaimer: Lies and untruths.
Jensen's phone rings at 4:43. His alarm clock is unnaturally bright, the digital numbers lighting the phone on his bedside table. It's playing "SexyBack," because Jensen foolishly let Jared pick his own ringtone, and he doesn't even think about not getting it.
"Hey," he rasps.
"Sorry, were you asleep?" asks Jared. He sounds tired or drunk, his accent strong and thick, his tongue taking up more of his mouth than it should.
"Don't worry about it," Jensen says quickly. He hasn't seen Jared since Supernatural wrapped two months ago, and he doesn't care what time Jared calls--he always talks to him. No matter what he does, it still feels it like he's missing a part of his side, or maybe a few of his ribs. "What's up?"
"Chad said I was moping," says Jared. "So he took me out to get drunk, and now I am drunk, and I'm still moping."
"Alcohol isn't the cure-all Chad thinks it is," says Jensen.
"I miss you," Jared says. "Chad isn't fun like you. No one is."
"I miss you too," says Jensen, and it feels so inadequate to what the two of them are.
"Why are you in New York," Jared says, barely even a question. "You should be here, with me."
Jensen swallows hard. "It's called a job."
"Mmm," says Jared. He laughs a little. "That's what Chad said. Said if I just gave you a job, you would've stayed."
"Yeah, you could have hired me to be a kept boy," says Jensen, grinning. "Or maybe I could clean your non-existent pool."
"No, no," says Jared, and he can practically hear him shaking his head. "Not like that. Like--god, a blow job. You have any idea how much I want to blow you?"
Jensen freezes. They skirted around this for years--at least, it felt that way to him. There was always the show to think of, and then the friendship, and then it had been so long, he thought it just wasn't going to happen at all. There were years where he thought every conversation would take a sudden turn, just like this, and now that it has, he can barely breathe. He feels like he might drown, right here on his bed, with no one to witness it but Jared, three thousand miles away.
Jared doesn't seem to notice, just keeps talking, like he isn't breaking Jensen's world into little pieces, "God, it feels like all I think about sometimes, getting my mouth on your dick. Or my hands. Having it inside me. You like fucking guys, Jensen? Because I like getting fucked."
Jensen licks his lips, barely able to speak. "Yeah," he manages. He's hard already--it's not like he hasn't been jerking off thinking of Jared for years. It felt like he'd thought of everything, but he never actually considered this, Jared calling him in the middle of the night to--Jesus. "Yeah, Jared, I want to fuck you."
"Thought so, yeah," says Jared. "Saw you looking sometimes. Never knew how I could--thought about just pushing you down and taking, you know?"
Jensen closes his eyes. He can see it so clearly in his minds' eye--Jared stalking in, so huge, ready to take. "Where?"
"Where?" asks Jared, sounding like he always did when Jensen went off script.
"Where would you push me? On the bed, on the couch, on the floor?"
"Up against the wall," Jared says instantly. "Just push you up against the wall and kiss you for a while. Rub up against you, make you crazy."
"You always make me crazy," Jensen admits, pressing the heel of his palm against his dick. "What next? What do you wanna do with me, Jared?"
He hears a wet sound, and a long groan. "Lick my hand," he says, "wrap it around you."
"Don't," says Jensen, roughly. "Don't touch yourself til I tell you what I'm going to do." He smirks, hopes Jared can hear it when he adds, "It's my turn right now."
"Fuck," says Jared. "God, Jensen--are you gonna do it?"
Jensen licks his palm, feeling ridiculous and horny and so fucking happy. He slips his boxers off and wraps his fingers around his dick, moaning at the first contact. "Just tell me how," he says. "How would you jerk me?"
"Hard," says Jared. "Painful. God, Jensen, I'd be so eager, you know. Couldn't hold back."
Jensen does it, fucks his fist hard and fast, holding himself almost too tight, loving the pressure.
"I'd wanna suck you, man. God, I'd just get down on my knees and let you fuck my mouth. I ever tell you I can deep throat?" he asks, and Jensen actually whimpers at the thought. "I want to feel you down there for days. When I talk, I want everyone to be able to hear how deep your dick was in my mouth."
"Jesus fuck," says Jensen, hips bucking off the bed. His hand isn't enough, not hot and wet like Jared's mouth would be. "Yeah, I'd fuck your mouth," he manages. "God, I'd get my fingers in your hair and make you take it, make you choke."
"Yeah," Jared moans. "Would you come in my mouth, or on my face? I don't even care. We're gonna have lots of time for me to learn just how you taste."
"Oh fuck, Jared," Jensen says, feeling a little embarrassed that in the midst of fucking awesome phone sex, it's the idea of permanence, the idea that this isn't one drunken call Jared will regret in the morning, that gets him off, that makes him come into his own hand. "Fuck, Jared, yeah."
He comes down slowly, and then says, almost casually, "I'd put my fingers in your mouth after, make you suck those too." He hears Jared do it instantly, hears Jared's lips moving over his own fingers, and his dick twitches feebly, again. "Get them really slick," he goes on, "because that's all you're getting."
Jared moans. "Jesus, you want me to--"
"One first," says Jensen. "I'd open you up nice and easy. Slow." He lets his accent out, thick and sweet as honey. "I'm a gentleman, y'know."
"Fuck," Jared says breathlessly.
"You got one inside you, Jared? You got a finger in your ass for me?"
"Yeah," Jared manages.
"You must be so hard," Jensen says, "but I'm not touching your dick. Not for a while yet. I'm just feeling you out. You tight, Jared?"
"Fucking--yes, Jensen. God, I'm really fucking tight."
"Get another in there," says Jensen, "because I'm not small. And you want all of me, don't you?"
"Yeah," Jared pants. "God, Jensen, I want--fuck!"
"Yeah, make it good," Jensen says, almost soothing. "Because I'd make it good for you, Jared."
"Fuck, Jensen, I want your fucking hands."
"Yeah, you do. Come on, man, fuck your fingers and pretend it's me. Tell me how much you want me there."
"So fucking--god, can I do another? Jesus, Jensen, I need more."
"Not yet," says Jensen. "I'd drive you crazy, Jared. I'd make you beg."
"Please," Jared says instantly. "Please, please, please--"
"Three," says Jensen. "Slow."
Jared whimpers.
"God, you really do love getting fucked, don't you? You still hard? I never could keep it up."
"So fucking hard," says Jared. "I need--Jensen, please."
It comes out as a sob, and Jensen's hard again too.
"When you're here," says Jensen, a promise, "I'm going to blow you with my fingers in your ass. Drive you fucking crazy. But you just got your hands, so you're gonna have to make do."
"Jesus fucking Christ," says Jared. Jensen can hear it as Jared starts jerking himself, hard and fast and wet. "Jensen," he says, over and over, and Jensen gets his dick in his hand as well, matching Jared's rhythm as best he can. Jared comes first, crying out Jensen's name, and that sends Jensen over the edge.
They come down together, and the world filters in around Jensen. He's alone in his too-big bed in New York, and Jared is on the other side of the country, drunk and maybe regretful.
He licks his lips and swallows, wonders what you're supposed to say after mind-blowing phone-sex with your best friend.
"I could get a flight in the morning," Jared says. "I could be there tomorrow." He laughs a little. "Later today."
Jensen exhales, finds himself smiling. "I could pick you up."
Jared laughs again, stronger and relieved, and Jensen can't wait to kiss him at the airport, in front of god and the whole fucking world. "See you soon," he says.
"Yeah," says Jensen. "Can't wait."
