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_3amconfession that was too big for lj's comment function. damnit.
jensen/jared, R
ETA: they don't belong to me, blah, blah, cake. also, i may have yoinked a line fromveronamay. pls to be informing me if you want me to take it down!
_3amconfession that was too big for lj's comment function. damnit. jensen/jared, R
ETA: they don't belong to me, blah, blah, cake. also, i may have yoinked a line from
veronamay. pls to be informing me if you want me to take it down!Why Jared Always Has Candy Handy
The first time Jared takes a candy bar out of his jacket on-set and goes about devouring it, Jensen thinks it’s kind of funny. How someone who eats as much crap as Jared does all the time manages to stay so ridiculously lanky and toned is something Jensen will never understand, but the sight of Jared with chocolate on his forehead and nose, getting yelled at by the make-up team is one Jensen will cherish for days.
---
The second time it happens, Jensen and Jared are sitting in the Impala waiting for lighting and the rest of the crew to set up the shot. Jensen is just saying something about boobs when, casual as anything, Jared starts molesting a Hershey’s bar.
He looks up, puzzled, when Jensen stops talking, but how can Jensen honestly be expected to finish when Jared’s mouth is fucking suckling on a bar of chocolate like that? It’s obscene, is what it is. And it’s not like Jensen hasn’t ever thought about Jared that way—how can he not? Jared’s gorgeous—but to have it laid out in front of him like a wet dream come to life?
Jensen forgets his lines for three full takes before Jared snaps him out of it by throwing a shoe at his head, hard.
---
The third and fourth time, Jensen has to politely excuse himself from Jared’s trailer or risk doing something he knows he’ll regret later.
---
By the fifth time, Jensen has decided God hates him. It’s just the two of them, sitting in their director’s chairs, screwing around; the crew is off somewhere else, most likely creating another set where Jensen will have to pretend to die. There’s nowhere for Jensen to go, no excuse he can give without coming off like a diva, and there is definitely no way he can get his legs to hold his weight up anyway.
The thing is, Jared eats candy like Jensen eats girls out, all careful and slow, pink tongue peeking out as it curls around an edge of the sweet chocolate. And he makes these noises: whisper-soft moans as he licks his fingers clean, kittenish mewls when a particular bite is just too good.
It’s driving Jensen slowly-but-surely insane.
He shifts in his seat, crossing his legs and pulling the edge of his jacket over his crotch, and averts his eyes. His shoes are a lot more fascinating than he usually gives them credit for. Is that a scuff mark?
“Jensen, man? You with me?” Jared asks, apparently coming out of his chocolate-induced lust long enough to notice something is off.
“Fine,” Jensen says, voice cracking. He coughs and tries again, “I’m fine.”
Jared doesn’t look convinced and he puts on his pissy Sam face, pursing his lips together. Jensen’s eyes are pulled down, noticing the small spot of chocolate just next to Jared’s mouth. He wants to lean forward and suck that brown spot off, taste the sweetness and bitterness of it on Jared’s skin.
Jensen jumps when Jared’s hand comes down on his shoulder. “What’re you staring at, Jen?”
“I just can’t believe how ugly your face is,” Jensen says quickly, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.
Jared’s face relaxes into something that isn’t quite a smile. He leans forward. “Liar,” he murmurs, lips barely brushing the red tip of Jensen’s ear.
“Wh-what are you doing, Jay?”
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me sometimes?” Jared asks as if Jensen hadn’t spoken, his lips still brushing maddeningly light against Jensen’s skin. “I have. And I like it. I jerk off thinking about how you watch me, Jen. And it's so good.”
He’s almost on top of Jared before he realizes where they are and who might see them. Jensen takes a steadying breath, feeling the painful strain of his erection against his zipper, and tries to calm down.
“How much time do you think we have before they start shooting?” he asks tightly. He sees Jared smile like a snake out of the corner of his eye.
“Why, Jensen. Are you suggesting something?” Jared gasps, putting a shocked hand over the ‘o’ of his mouth. His hand doesn’t cover the wicked twinkling of his eyes, though.
Jensen stands up abruptly, pulls the flaps of his coat closer together to preserve his dignity. “My trailer in ten minutes. You are going to suck my dick like you suck on that chocolate and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”
The first time Jared takes a candy bar out of his jacket on-set and goes about devouring it, Jensen thinks it’s kind of funny. How someone who eats as much crap as Jared does all the time manages to stay so ridiculously lanky and toned is something Jensen will never understand, but the sight of Jared with chocolate on his forehead and nose, getting yelled at by the make-up team is one Jensen will cherish for days.
---
The second time it happens, Jensen and Jared are sitting in the Impala waiting for lighting and the rest of the crew to set up the shot. Jensen is just saying something about boobs when, casual as anything, Jared starts molesting a Hershey’s bar.
He looks up, puzzled, when Jensen stops talking, but how can Jensen honestly be expected to finish when Jared’s mouth is fucking suckling on a bar of chocolate like that? It’s obscene, is what it is. And it’s not like Jensen hasn’t ever thought about Jared that way—how can he not? Jared’s gorgeous—but to have it laid out in front of him like a wet dream come to life?
Jensen forgets his lines for three full takes before Jared snaps him out of it by throwing a shoe at his head, hard.
---
The third and fourth time, Jensen has to politely excuse himself from Jared’s trailer or risk doing something he knows he’ll regret later.
---
By the fifth time, Jensen has decided God hates him. It’s just the two of them, sitting in their director’s chairs, screwing around; the crew is off somewhere else, most likely creating another set where Jensen will have to pretend to die. There’s nowhere for Jensen to go, no excuse he can give without coming off like a diva, and there is definitely no way he can get his legs to hold his weight up anyway.
The thing is, Jared eats candy like Jensen eats girls out, all careful and slow, pink tongue peeking out as it curls around an edge of the sweet chocolate. And he makes these noises: whisper-soft moans as he licks his fingers clean, kittenish mewls when a particular bite is just too good.
It’s driving Jensen slowly-but-surely insane.
He shifts in his seat, crossing his legs and pulling the edge of his jacket over his crotch, and averts his eyes. His shoes are a lot more fascinating than he usually gives them credit for. Is that a scuff mark?
“Jensen, man? You with me?” Jared asks, apparently coming out of his chocolate-induced lust long enough to notice something is off.
“Fine,” Jensen says, voice cracking. He coughs and tries again, “I’m fine.”
Jared doesn’t look convinced and he puts on his pissy Sam face, pursing his lips together. Jensen’s eyes are pulled down, noticing the small spot of chocolate just next to Jared’s mouth. He wants to lean forward and suck that brown spot off, taste the sweetness and bitterness of it on Jared’s skin.
Jensen jumps when Jared’s hand comes down on his shoulder. “What’re you staring at, Jen?”
“I just can’t believe how ugly your face is,” Jensen says quickly, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.
Jared’s face relaxes into something that isn’t quite a smile. He leans forward. “Liar,” he murmurs, lips barely brushing the red tip of Jensen’s ear.
“Wh-what are you doing, Jay?”
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me sometimes?” Jared asks as if Jensen hadn’t spoken, his lips still brushing maddeningly light against Jensen’s skin. “I have. And I like it. I jerk off thinking about how you watch me, Jen. And it's so good.”
He’s almost on top of Jared before he realizes where they are and who might see them. Jensen takes a steadying breath, feeling the painful strain of his erection against his zipper, and tries to calm down.
“How much time do you think we have before they start shooting?” he asks tightly. He sees Jared smile like a snake out of the corner of his eye.
“Why, Jensen. Are you suggesting something?” Jared gasps, putting a shocked hand over the ‘o’ of his mouth. His hand doesn’t cover the wicked twinkling of his eyes, though.
Jensen stands up abruptly, pulls the flaps of his coat closer together to preserve his dignity. “My trailer in ten minutes. You are going to suck my dick like you suck on that chocolate and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”