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spn_springflingTitle: Mama This Surely is a Dream
Pairing: J2
Rating: NC-17
Any warnings: slight underage: Jared is 17, Jensen 21
The year is 1997. Third Eye Blind riffs on the radio while the backyard fills up with the local college crowd intermixing with new high school grads. The Texas summer heat sweats in the air, thick and humid as Jared tucks his dampening hair behind his ears.
There are enough people to keep Jared busy with conversations and spiked drinks passed around, but there’s only one guy catching his eye. Frosted tips and a June suntan. Cargo shorts with shredded hems and a white ribbed tank clinging around the middle, looking a little soft there. Jared thinks about peeling that cotton up to dance his fingers along the guy’s sensitive skin.
He’s staring long enough that Mackenzie notices, ends her story abruptly and follows Jared’s sights before rolling her eyes.
“Who is that?” he asks quietly, surely unheard with the music pumping through speakers someone set up in the yard.
“My brother.”
Jared whips around to Mackenzie, but she’s already moving onto another group of friends. He’d be offended if it wasn’t her own party.
With a little liquor courage, Jared slides between bodies to the other side of the yard. He stands behind Mackenzie’s brother, who he’s heard about in bits and pieces over the last year getting to know her. She’s said a lot about community college douche-hood and his friends always crashing in the basement he’s taken over as his own apartment.
None of her words were ever as flattering as the dazed green eyes now checking Jared out as they face one other.
“What’s up?” the guy offers in greeting just before sliding a bright red popsicle between his lips.
“You’re Mackenzie’s brother,” Jared replies. He’s suddenly lost use of his brain. Maybe he’s all talked out. Or a little drunk. And overheated as sweat beads along his hairline.
“And you’re one of her little friends.”
Jared blinks at the coolness in his tone.
After a small bite of the popsicle’s tip, there’s a wide, cocky smile. “You need something?”
Now Jared wrenches himself together and tips his blue solo cup in the air, nods just beyond them where the cooler of soda is. “Just looking for another drink.”
The green eyes sparkle as he takes another swipe at the popsicle and red juices slip down to the wooden stick. “Is that all you’re looking for?”
Shifting in place, Jared swallows. Hard. Now the syrup spills over the guy’s fingers, staining his blunt fingernails. Blood red sliding over dirtied cuticles. “I’m Jared.”
Another expert smirk and Jared stomach sinks like a dead weight. “Hi Jared.” He licks the syrup from his fingers with a talented tongue winding in between knuckles, digging into the webbing at his palm.
A split second later, Jared’s plastic cup is crushed between his fingers, and his whiskey and coke spews all over his cream and blue plaid.
“Need a new shirt?” He grabs at the middle of Jared’s plaid, wet or not, and pulls. The popsicle gets lost to the bustle of them moving, but his confident voices carries just fine. “I’ve got plenty.”
Faces blur as Jared follows him to the sliding doors beneath the sprawling wooden deck and into the basement den Mackenzie’s always whining about with too-loud music and rowdy co-eds coming and going at all hours of the day and night.
He takes in the Sugar Ray and Lit posters juxtaposed with original charcoal sketches tacked to the walls. Thinks back to the blackened nail beds. Probably left behind from the art.
Mackenzie’s brother digs through a few laundry baskets until he holds a plain blue t-shirt out. Jared looks around the room again and spies the signatures on the art. “Jensen,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?”
Jared looks him square in the eye and builds up his courage. “Those are nice. The drawings.”
Jensen ducks his head and peaks up through his eyelashes. “Thanks.” He licks those bright lips then clears his throat. “You gonna take the shirt?”
He does, but doesn’t do much else.
“Need privacy?”
Boldly, Jared unbuttons his shirt and removes the white undershirt that’s also displaying an inelegant brown, wet stain. He notices how Jensen’s eyes take in his bare chest. He’s put on weight this year thanks to the weight room in between basketball practice, evened out a bit with his growth spurt. He knows he’s still lean, but has lost his thin coltish limbs to newfound muscles.
Jared smiles a little. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
Jensen’s voice drops an octave or two when he insists, “Don’t tempt me.”
It isn’t Jared’s first kiss. Certainly not his last. But it’s a memorable one when he rushes forward and latches onto Jensen’s lips, Jensen’s tongue searching the far recesses of Jared’s mouth. Sugar bursts when their tongues meet and Jared chases the flavor again and again and again.
Jensen leads them to his unmade bed in the corner. Ruffled tan sheets and a white blanket cushion their fall before Jensen straddles his legs and gets to work on Jared’s belt.
All Jared can do is watch as a blush rises high on Jensen’s cheek, as he bites the plush bow of his bottom lip, when he slips Jared’s underwear and fly down just enough to get a hand wrapped around excitable teenage dick.
Jared kicks his hips up immediately, trying to find the rhythm of Jensen’s fist. Pants out, “What about you?”
Struggling together, they yank at Jensen’s canvas belt, working through the metal grommets until the cargo shorts open. When Jared’s hand slips along Jensen’s dick, there’s a withered moan and Jensen pulls at the back of his tank top, wrestles it over his shoulders and head.
Just like Jared had imagined, he’s met with the soft curves of Jensen’s belly, perfectly imperfect compared to all the men’s health magazines Jared jerks off to. Now he pictures Jensen in bright board shorts on a white sandy beach posing for the cameras, full color spreads on glossy paper, and he speeds up his hand to jack Jensen off.
Jensen returns the favor, bending over to suck at Jared’s lips, messy and noisy with their shared moans and groans and whines. His hand moves lightning fast and with a bit more finesse than Jared, yet he seems happy all the same as he grinds into Jared’s fist with every movement.
At his age, it doesn’t take much and Jared shoots his load. Bites Jensen’s mouth then kisses softer, slower, while his muscles rumble beneath his skin. Jensen can’t hold out much longer and his come mixes with Jared’s all over their hands.
His free hand rakes through Jared’s hair, palm sliding over Jared’s forehead. He stares deep within.
Jared can’t catch his breath with the intense gaze or the fact that Jensen’s fingers are still running slowly along Jared’s dick.
It seems like Jensen tries for smug, but his voice is scratchy. “You’re real pretty like this.”
Jared takes in Jensen’s face. Dark pupils and lips cherry sweet, red and raw from the popsicle and their brutal kisses. “You, too,” he whispers.
Jensen blinks like he’s returning to his senses. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” Jared admits carefully. Quickly adds, “Eighteen next month.”
Now Jensen’s smile is broad, blinding white like a toothpaste commercial. “Good. That’s real good.”
And that’s how Jared spent his summer vacation. Learning all the words to The Verve Pipe and Marcy’s Playground, half naked with Jensen Ackles.
Pairing: J2
Rating: NC-17
Any warnings: slight underage: Jared is 17, Jensen 21
The year is 1997. Third Eye Blind riffs on the radio while the backyard fills up with the local college crowd intermixing with new high school grads. The Texas summer heat sweats in the air, thick and humid as Jared tucks his dampening hair behind his ears.
There are enough people to keep Jared busy with conversations and spiked drinks passed around, but there’s only one guy catching his eye. Frosted tips and a June suntan. Cargo shorts with shredded hems and a white ribbed tank clinging around the middle, looking a little soft there. Jared thinks about peeling that cotton up to dance his fingers along the guy’s sensitive skin.
He’s staring long enough that Mackenzie notices, ends her story abruptly and follows Jared’s sights before rolling her eyes.
“Who is that?” he asks quietly, surely unheard with the music pumping through speakers someone set up in the yard.
“My brother.”
Jared whips around to Mackenzie, but she’s already moving onto another group of friends. He’d be offended if it wasn’t her own party.
With a little liquor courage, Jared slides between bodies to the other side of the yard. He stands behind Mackenzie’s brother, who he’s heard about in bits and pieces over the last year getting to know her. She’s said a lot about community college douche-hood and his friends always crashing in the basement he’s taken over as his own apartment.
None of her words were ever as flattering as the dazed green eyes now checking Jared out as they face one other.
“What’s up?” the guy offers in greeting just before sliding a bright red popsicle between his lips.
“You’re Mackenzie’s brother,” Jared replies. He’s suddenly lost use of his brain. Maybe he’s all talked out. Or a little drunk. And overheated as sweat beads along his hairline.
“And you’re one of her little friends.”
Jared blinks at the coolness in his tone.
After a small bite of the popsicle’s tip, there’s a wide, cocky smile. “You need something?”
Now Jared wrenches himself together and tips his blue solo cup in the air, nods just beyond them where the cooler of soda is. “Just looking for another drink.”
The green eyes sparkle as he takes another swipe at the popsicle and red juices slip down to the wooden stick. “Is that all you’re looking for?”
Shifting in place, Jared swallows. Hard. Now the syrup spills over the guy’s fingers, staining his blunt fingernails. Blood red sliding over dirtied cuticles. “I’m Jared.”
Another expert smirk and Jared stomach sinks like a dead weight. “Hi Jared.” He licks the syrup from his fingers with a talented tongue winding in between knuckles, digging into the webbing at his palm.
A split second later, Jared’s plastic cup is crushed between his fingers, and his whiskey and coke spews all over his cream and blue plaid.
“Need a new shirt?” He grabs at the middle of Jared’s plaid, wet or not, and pulls. The popsicle gets lost to the bustle of them moving, but his confident voices carries just fine. “I’ve got plenty.”
Faces blur as Jared follows him to the sliding doors beneath the sprawling wooden deck and into the basement den Mackenzie’s always whining about with too-loud music and rowdy co-eds coming and going at all hours of the day and night.
He takes in the Sugar Ray and Lit posters juxtaposed with original charcoal sketches tacked to the walls. Thinks back to the blackened nail beds. Probably left behind from the art.
Mackenzie’s brother digs through a few laundry baskets until he holds a plain blue t-shirt out. Jared looks around the room again and spies the signatures on the art. “Jensen,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?”
Jared looks him square in the eye and builds up his courage. “Those are nice. The drawings.”
Jensen ducks his head and peaks up through his eyelashes. “Thanks.” He licks those bright lips then clears his throat. “You gonna take the shirt?”
He does, but doesn’t do much else.
“Need privacy?”
Boldly, Jared unbuttons his shirt and removes the white undershirt that’s also displaying an inelegant brown, wet stain. He notices how Jensen’s eyes take in his bare chest. He’s put on weight this year thanks to the weight room in between basketball practice, evened out a bit with his growth spurt. He knows he’s still lean, but has lost his thin coltish limbs to newfound muscles.
Jared smiles a little. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
Jensen’s voice drops an octave or two when he insists, “Don’t tempt me.”
It isn’t Jared’s first kiss. Certainly not his last. But it’s a memorable one when he rushes forward and latches onto Jensen’s lips, Jensen’s tongue searching the far recesses of Jared’s mouth. Sugar bursts when their tongues meet and Jared chases the flavor again and again and again.
Jensen leads them to his unmade bed in the corner. Ruffled tan sheets and a white blanket cushion their fall before Jensen straddles his legs and gets to work on Jared’s belt.
All Jared can do is watch as a blush rises high on Jensen’s cheek, as he bites the plush bow of his bottom lip, when he slips Jared’s underwear and fly down just enough to get a hand wrapped around excitable teenage dick.
Jared kicks his hips up immediately, trying to find the rhythm of Jensen’s fist. Pants out, “What about you?”
Struggling together, they yank at Jensen’s canvas belt, working through the metal grommets until the cargo shorts open. When Jared’s hand slips along Jensen’s dick, there’s a withered moan and Jensen pulls at the back of his tank top, wrestles it over his shoulders and head.
Just like Jared had imagined, he’s met with the soft curves of Jensen’s belly, perfectly imperfect compared to all the men’s health magazines Jared jerks off to. Now he pictures Jensen in bright board shorts on a white sandy beach posing for the cameras, full color spreads on glossy paper, and he speeds up his hand to jack Jensen off.
Jensen returns the favor, bending over to suck at Jared’s lips, messy and noisy with their shared moans and groans and whines. His hand moves lightning fast and with a bit more finesse than Jared, yet he seems happy all the same as he grinds into Jared’s fist with every movement.
At his age, it doesn’t take much and Jared shoots his load. Bites Jensen’s mouth then kisses softer, slower, while his muscles rumble beneath his skin. Jensen can’t hold out much longer and his come mixes with Jared’s all over their hands.
His free hand rakes through Jared’s hair, palm sliding over Jared’s forehead. He stares deep within.
Jared can’t catch his breath with the intense gaze or the fact that Jensen’s fingers are still running slowly along Jared’s dick.
It seems like Jensen tries for smug, but his voice is scratchy. “You’re real pretty like this.”
Jared takes in Jensen’s face. Dark pupils and lips cherry sweet, red and raw from the popsicle and their brutal kisses. “You, too,” he whispers.
Jensen blinks like he’s returning to his senses. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” Jared admits carefully. Quickly adds, “Eighteen next month.”
Now Jensen’s smile is broad, blinding white like a toothpaste commercial. “Good. That’s real good.”
And that’s how Jared spent his summer vacation. Learning all the words to The Verve Pipe and Marcy’s Playground, half naked with Jensen Ackles.
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Date: 2017-04-05 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2017-04-06 02:34 am (UTC)The DO look real pretty like that.
:)
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Date: 2017-04-19 04:31 pm (UTC)So glad you enjoyed this, thank you for commenting!
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Date: 2017-04-19 04:33 pm (UTC)Thank you for the lovely comment!
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