cathybites: (2 minutes for slashing)
[personal profile] cathybites
keep your hands to yourself
[rps, jared/jensen, nc-17, 720 words]

written for [livejournal.com profile] salt_burn_porn, with the prompt 'WAIT YOUR TURN' from [livejournal.com profile] __tiana__. unbetaed because I had no real time to write this. ALAS. I'd almost forgotten how this all is supposed to go.



Jared sits on his hands. Pushes down on them, concentrates on the scrape of denim against the back of them. His fingers curl into his palms slowly, knuckles creaking under his weight. And still, it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach out, not to touch. He shifts in his seat and tries to remember to breathe, watching Jensen as he peels his shirt off.

The shirt flies into a corner, and Jensen smiles at him, a smoldering curve of his mouth as he saunters over. He stops inches away from Jared, so close that Jared can almost taste the sweat that gleams on Jensen's skin. Jared breathes in, a slow inhale that twists sharp as Jensen runs a hand down his own stomach, fingertips dancing at his waistband.

Jared forgets and he reaches out. Before he can make contact, Jensen smacks his hand away and steps back, shaking his head. "Uh-uh, no you don't. You wait your turn."

"Motherfuck," Jared swears under his breath. Jensen just smirks a little and raises an eyebrow before he's unbuttoning his jeans. They slide off easily, and Jensen's stands in front of him naked, skin smooth and golden. That same damn hand retraces its path down Jensen's stomach, sliding lower this time. By the time the fingers curl around Jensen's cock, giving one lazy pull, Jared's straining against his jeans. He reaches down to adjust himself and gets another smack on the hand.

Jensen swings a leg over him, straddling his lap, and leans forward until his lips brush against Jared's ear. "Wait," he says, a sharp nip along the lobe to punctuate, "your goddamn turn."

"I don't think I can." He can feel the heat radiating from Jensen's body, seeping into his own, making him feel flushed from the inside out.

Jensen hums at that, and he settles down on Jared's lap, just far back enough that there's the tease of pressure against Jared's dick. Both of Jensen's hands land on Jared's shoulder and begin moving slowly down his chest. "Maybe I'll just have to tie you up. Make sure you don't try to cheat."

Jared moans at that, head dropping back. Jensen takes advantage, mouth hot against Jared's throat. "Don't want to get up, though," he says, teeth scraping along the tender skin under Jared's jaw. "So behave."

He moves back and Jared nods weakly. His hands clasp behind the chair, nails digging in as Jensen leans back, strong muscles of his bare thighs flexing around Jared, keeping him in place. He licks his palm, eyes sparkling, never leaving Jared's face, not even as he wraps his hand around his dick once more.

Jared's frozen in place, afraid to move because Jensen might stop. Afraid to move because he might blink and miss the way Jensen's fingers move up and down his shaft, tan against red. Jensen rubs a thumb over his cockhead, and they both moan. Jared's cock pulses against his jeans. He wants to tear his clothes off, wants to get his hands and his mouth and his dick on Jensen, taste and smell and feel.

But he clenches his hands tighter, watches hungrily as Jensen strokes himself. Watches his muscles flex and ripple, watches the flush spread all over Jensen's body as he works himself harder, quicker. Jared can feel the tremble of Jensen's body as he gets closer, can feel his gasping breaths as if they were being torn from Jared's own lungs.

Jensen reaches out with his free hand, grabs a hold of Jared's shirt. He bites down on his lip, and Jared mirrors the action, grunting as he bites down too hard. Jensen swears at that, and with one last, drawn-out groan, he comes, spilling over his hand and onto Jared's lap. He slumps forward, rests his head on Jared's shoulder.

Jared waits a moment, lets Jensen catch his breath. Eventually, he jogs his leg a little, and Jensen looks up, eyebrows raised in fake bewilderment. "Did you need something?"

Jared growls a little, and the grin is barely back on Jensen's face before Jared lifts him up, spins them both around and deposits Jensen on the bed. Jared pulls his shirt off and crawls up to cover Jensen. He dips his head down, nosing at Jensen's cheek before whispering, "Now it's my turn."




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