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apocalypsosPart One | Part Two
If It Wasn‘t For You Meddling Kids
*
Jared stumbles around the bedroom that night as he awkwardly tugs on his costume feeling a lot like a giraffe trying to put on a leotard. It’s just one of those nights where he’d rather just curl up on the couch with the dogs and watch whatever lame crap is showing on Comedy Central at two in the morning. And instead he’s throwing on his stupid spandex costume and his dumbass cowl so that he can go fight crime and save people’s lives.
Alone.
He tugs on the cowl in front of the bathroom mirror, the dogs watching with a complete lack of interest from where they’re sprawled in front of the TV. He raises his fingers to tuck under the last errant locks of brown hair …
… and stops.
He takes it off again, rumpling his hair after he does. See? That was easy. The cowl is lightweight and cool against the back of his neck, easy enough to pull off his head.
A motorcycle helmet couldn’t be that hard to take off.
No. No. He can’t -- it isn’t right.
Jared frowns and pulls the cowl back on, arranges it so it doesn’t block his eyes, tucks under the last bit of his hair.
He wonders if Nobody is out there somewhere right now, doing the same old routine of getting ready for patrol. Pulling on his pants and boots, zipping up his jacket, arranging his helmet on his head. He wonders if Nobody even gives a damn what he’s doing right now, if he even thinks about “Shadow” once he drives off on that goddamn motorcycle of his.
If he ever wakes up in the middle of the night, hard and aching and wanting, and strokes his cock with Jared’s muscles and eyes and brilliant smile in his mind.
Oh, great, now he moved on from exhaustion to torturing himself.
“Fuck this shit,” he mutters as he puts the dogs in the other bedroom for the night.
A push off from the floor in the living room and he’s through the wall and flying through the sky, heading for downtown. And he is absolutely not going to think about Nobody at all tonight.
Ever.
No, seriously.
Oh, stop looking at him like that.
*
Jared skips out on hitting the rooftops and ends up down by the docks. The way he figures it, hanging out in the city means possibly running into Tom or Mike or Nobody, while staying by the docks for the rest of the night means smelling vaguely like fish and saving anybody dumb enough to try swimming in the shipping lanes at midnight.
Apparently no one’s dumb enough to try a stunt like that.
Well, try it tonight, in any event.
Fancy seeing you here.
Jared startles and turns around and that goddamn bike’s parked not ten feet away from him. He doesn’t know how he managed to get so damn close without Jared hearing him, but … well, hell, it’s the understatement of the year to say that Jared’s a little distracted.
“Can we not talk right now?” he asks, turning back to the water.
It‘s possible, yeah, the voice in his head says.
But he doesn’t hear Nobody leave, and he has a feeling the guy’s just sitting there watching him and waiting for his next move. “You know what I’m thinking, right?”
A long pause follows, filled with the sounds of water lapping against the land and boats bumping against the docks. Not everything, he says.
“You could, though.”
You don’t want me to do that.
Jared finally turns to look at him again, wishing he could just see the guy‘s goddamn eyes behind that helmet. It‘s hard to let someone know that you can‘t stop thinking about them, that you wake up at night with their voice in your head and your hand around you dick, when you can‘t even be sure you‘re looking into their fucking eyes.
“Yeah, I do,” he says.
Waves of unease flow from Nobody like strong perfume, teasing at the edges of Jared‘s senses. Jared gets the impression he barely if ever lets himself gets close to anyone, that maybe he’s been burned badly by someone and revealing anything more than his mere existence has gotten himself in a hell of a lot of trouble before.
Jared knows the feeling. Acting’s one thing, but the superhero business could drag you under so fast that you don’t even know you’re suffocating until it’s too late to save yourself.
But offering your mind up to a telepath on a silver platter is the worst idea on the planet. The good telepaths skirted around the edges of your mind, took what they needed but nothing you’d miss. Listened in on your conversations but not what you really wanted to say. Looked through your eyes and picked up on the sound coming into your ears but ignored everything that wasn’t necessary.
The bad telepaths, the ones who’d gone bad … well, those were the ones who danced through your mind without permission and invaded your mental privacy like they’d gleefully rummage through your underwear drawer.
Jared doesn’t think Nobody’s the type to be a supervillain.
If nothing else, his ride’s definitely not expensive enough.
You don’t even know me, the voice in his head says, quiet and steady.
Jared levels his gaze at Nobody. “You so sure about that?”
The figure on the bike tenses up a little like he’s ready for a fight, but within seconds Jared hears, No, echo in his head like a confession.
It’s like a release hearing that, like all of his pent-up energy suddenly explodes from his fingertips. He can’t stop grinning, may never stop, and he has to look down just to make sure his feet are still touching the ground.
He walks towards Nobody in small cautious steps like someone approaching a skittish colt, and he hears himself rambling but doesn‘t know what he‘s saying before the words pass his lips. “Look, as childish and stupid as it sounds I really like you, man. And I’m not about to go ripping off your helmet or anything like that just to find out who you are, so if you’re not going to tell me a damn thing about you then you might as well --”
I train elephants how to juggle.
Jared freezes in mid-step.
He can’t have heard what he thinks he heard in his head. It’s just something that popped into his head, some wandering thought that made a wrong turn at Albuquerque and ended up in the middle of a mental conversation it didn’t belong in.
“What did you say?” he asks.
You heard me, Jay, the man on the bike says in his head.
Holy hell, it was him, wasn’t it?
He isn’t about to say the name out loud -- you just didn’t do that while you were in costume, superhero etiquette and all -- but he can think it. He highly doubts he could say it out loud even if it there wasn’t the possibility of someone overhearing, which you always had to assume there was.
But it was him.
Jensen?
It takes a long moment, but Jared finally gets a short tight nod in response.
The air whooshes from his lungs in a ragged exhale.
He doesn’t even know what to say to that, but now that he knows what under that helmet he can picture Jensen inside it, familiar muscles shaping the leather. And it doesn’t even matter that it’s Jensen and it does all at the same time. The heat pooling in Jared’s chest spreads with the knowledge that Jensen’s in there, that if he peeled away that jacket, he’d find --
Oh, fuck, is he reading Jared’s mind right now?
No, of course he isn’t.
The two of them stare at one another for a long strained moment. The words don’t come and their voices don’t seem to work, and then there’s the sounds of sirens in the distance and Jared tenses up like he always does when he hears them.
He’s meant to follow them. It’s what he’s meant to do. And this -- whatever this is -- can wait.
Not for long, though. Sweet Jesus, Jared’s feeling a little like a coiled spring right now, all barely contained energy and the urge to rip that helmet from Jensen’s head and kiss him stupid.
“Meet me in an hour?” he says.
He waits for Jensen to nod before he pushes away from the ground and flies towards the sirens.
*
Forty-five minutes later he lands in his hotel room, wired and confused and practically bouncing off the walls.
Jensen.
Jensen Ackles is the goddamn superhero he’s been lusting after for months.
That lying little bastard.
And yeah, Jared hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming person on the planet, but Jensen could have told him. It’s not like Jared wouldn’t have believed him. And besides, Jared’s trustworthy. Jared’s so fucking trustworthy he should be used to hold state secrets. He’s that damn trustworthy.
They could have been fucking for weeks.
Jared stops pacing the length of the living room abruptly. Oh, hell, does Jensen even … what if he doesn’t … oh, fuck.
What if Jensen doesn’t want him?
It sounds patently ridiculous when he puts it that way in his head, and he has to run his fingers through his hair to try to make himself stop feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.
For him, it just clicked. Nobody is Jensen is Nobody, and he wants the one so now he wants the other. And maybe he even wanted the other long before he knew who he really was. Maybe.
He doesn’t even know anymore.
He just knows the tremble in his fingers and the anxious glances he keeps darting towards the hotel room door, and the tingling heat in his skin and the way he’s already growing hard like this, just from the waiting.
There’s a rap at the door and Jared’s stomach plummets hard and fast.
Jay, I know they’re in there.
Jared lets loose of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, the weight of it released from his chest leaving him light and empty inside.
He doesn’t even bother with opening the door, a simple waste of his time. He just reaches through the door as if it isn’t even there, glances both ways down the hall of the hotel before grabbing onto Jensen’s collar and hauling him right through the damn door.
“Jesus, Jay,” Jensen says, right about the time that his ankle’s still passing ghostly and insubstantial through the hardwood. “Next time, warn a guy, would ya?”
He presses Jensen against the door, the both of them solid and whole again, and Jesus, he’s still wearing the goddamn leather. His gaze connects with Jensen’s, with those green eyes that constantly twinkle with hidden mischief, and Jensen tilts his head just so. He slides one hand up Jared’s bicep and the other falls onto Jared’s hip, caressing bone and flesh through dark blue spandex, and he falls.
They fall together.
“I thought you could read minds,” Jared whispers, right before he leans forward and bites at that freckled patch of skin right under Jensen’s ear. He nibbles at the skin, tastes and suckles and takes over. Before today the man in his arms was a blank slate, clear and clean and untouched.
Jared’s not about to let that go any further.
“Yeah, well, not all the time,” Jensen says, his breath hitching. He grabs at the back of Jared‘s head and holds on tight, fingers threading through Jared‘s hair as his tongue rasps over Jensen‘s neck. “That’s just -- fuck, man -- that’s just rude.”
Jared grins at the reaction sliding his hand over Jensen’s crotch gets, the hissed curse that accompanies the firm pressure of his palm over the thick erection hidden there.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” he says.
He doesn’t mean to say it. This isn’t the place to have that particular discussion, not with Jared’s hand deftly working at the zipper of Jensen’s leather pants and their shared breath passing back and forth as their lips ghost over one another.
Jensen tilts his head back, smirking in that familiar way that Jared knows and loves. “That’s a two-way street, Jay.”
Jared can’t argue that, but he doesn’t want to. He slides his hand away from Jensen’s cock, still pressing urgently against his zipper, choosing instead to reach up and get off that goddamn leather jacket. It keeps his hands occupied, keeps them from grabbing on and not letting go when they finally, finally kiss, and it’s …
Jesus, it’s fucking perfect.
Jensen’s tongue slips into his mouth like it had wanted to move in forever, sliding over his teeth and licking at the inside of his mouth with all of the enthusiasm of a starving man. Jared kisses back with the giddy stupid part of his brain in charge, sucking at Jensen’s tongue like it’s made out of caramel and taffy, sugary and sweet.
He dips his head then, the jacket falling open, and he leans down to take a deep breath of the heady scent of the leather before slipping it from Jensen’s shoulders. He wears a black T-shirt underneath it and Jared tugs that away too, so desperate to reach warm freckled skin that he practically tears the damn thing off before common sense prevails.
“I can’t read minds, Jen,” he says.
He bends forward and presses his lips to Jensen’s chest, slides them along until he can latch them around a flat nipple and rasp his tongue over it in long deliberate strokes.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Jensen says, but he’s choking on his words and tugging at Jared’s costume, at five thousand miles of skintight spandex.
Jared pulls Jensen’s hands away from his costume, grips them at the wrist as he stares into Jen’s eyes.
“What if I don’t want to?” he asks, then slips to his knees without waiting for an answer.
And there‘s that smirk again, tugging at full lips Jared can‘t wait to taste again. But later. Not right now when he‘s on his knees in front of Jensen, hands running up and down his thighs, fingers moving upward to finish the job he’d started with that damn zipper.
Jensen‘s palm drifts over his hair, tangling in the soft brown strands. “I can work with that,” he says.
Jared takes another deep breath, leather and sweat and exhaust, the same damn scents that have been haunting his dreams for weeks now. He shudders as he yanks open Jensen’s pants, but Jensen’s hand smoothes through his hair like he’s a goddamn cat, and it’s okay. It’s okay.
Jensen’s half-hard when Jared pulls his cock out, long fingers wrapping around it by instinct. He’s done this before though not that often, but it’s just like riding a bicycle. He has the insane thought that he doesn’t even want to know where the training wheels go and distracts himself by sliding his lips over the head of Jensen’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and taking him in as far as he can.
“Damn it, Jared,” he says, and for a split second Jared’s afraid that he’s wrong, that he’s fucking it up somehow. But then Jensen’s fingers tighten in his hair, a shaky moan erupting from the depths of his chest, and Jared relaxes before bobbing his head over Jensen’s cock.
He could never have seen his night ending like this, Jensen half-naked before him and grasping at him as he sucks greedily at the dick in his mouth. He’s wanted this for … God, for so fucking long, and now he’s here.
He’s doing this, and he’s not sure he ever wants it to end.
Jensen tugs him away without warning, except maybe that is his warning, and the next thing Jared knows Jensen’s coming in thick ropes all over Jared’s hand, gentle fingers stroking him through his orgasm.
“See, that,” Jensen says when he finally catches his breathe again, “is what we could have been doing if you had just told me the truth from the beginning.”
Jared grins and says, “Keep it up, loudmouth, and you won’t get fucked.”
*
It takes them a good ten minutes to get into the bedroom and strip out of their clothes, Jared’s costume being more of a bitch to get out of than Jensen suspected.
“How do you do this every damn night?” he asks, trying to pull it down Jared’s shoulders and scowling when he fails miserably.
“Patience,” he says. “A fucking boatload of patience.”
“So that’s what you waste it on,” Jensen mutters.
Jared undoes a hidden clasp here and there and the thing comes apart a little easier but not by much -- although that’s kind of the point in a patrol situation -- and as soon as the damn thing’s off he’s on Jensen’s like a crazed man, steering him towards the bed and pushing him down onto the mattress.
As soon as Jensen sinks onto the mattress Jared’s body comes down on top of him and the next thing Jared knows they’re kissing again, making out like crazy as their hands drift over each other. Jensen’s hand rests at the small of Jared’s back, fingers spread as he presses Jared down, an that shouldn’t be half as fucking hot as it is.
“You’ve got stuff, right?” Jensen says, and Jared gives him a jerky nod in response.
He reaches for the drawer of the nightstand and pulls it open, takes out the lube and condoms inside and tries not to think about why they were in there in the first place. The last thing he needs is for Jensen to pick up the thought that Sandy got him the stuff as a going-away present. Just in case that moron in the leather gets his shit together, she’d said.
Jensen laughs then, like he’s trying to restrain himself and failing miserably, and Jared scowls down at him. “You did not!”
“Dude, you might want to try not thinking about things you don’t want me to know in the mental version of bright pink neon lights.”
Jared grabs onto his side and squeezes and Jensen squirms underneath him. “Jay, now is so not the time to do the ticklish thing, all right? Jesus.” He snatches the lube from Jared‘s grasp and says, “Gimme that.”
It takes Jared a second to figure out where he’s going this, why Jensen’s pouring a generous amount of the stuff into his hand and slipping his hand down … oh, fuck. “I’m going to die, aren’t I? You’re going to kill me with sex.”
“God, I hope not,” Jensen says. His fingers disappear from Jared’s line of sight and he moves back a little, wanting to see, needing to catch a glimpse of Jensen’s fingers opening for Jared.
Jensen grins then and spreads his legs wider, two fingers working his ass open, and Christ, Jared’s going to hyperventilate if Jensen keeps this up.
Jensen’s fingers thrust in and out of his ass, readying him for what’s to come. He finally reaches out with one hand and urges Jared closer, leans up and trails kisses along Jared’s jaw line. “Well, come on,” he says, and a second later Jared’s rolling on the condom before Jensen slicks him up and then --
“Oh, motherfucker,” Jared says, sliding into Jensen in one long slow thrust.
He can barely breathe and he doesn’t even know if he can get his body to work without coming so fast he’ll embarrass the hell out of himself. But then Jensen pulls him close with his thighs and hands and says, “Move, you jerk, or I swear to God,” and Jared can’t stop himself.
He pulls back and pushes back in so damn slow and deep and hard that he expects Jensen to complain, but somewhere along the line Jensen presses close and whispers, “Come on, baby.”
Jared thrusts so hard in response he practically knocks the damn paintings off the walls, and Jensen lets loose with a guttural groan that sounds like it comes all the way up from his damn toes. Jared can’t think or breathe, he can just fuck Jensen like he’s been needing to do for months now, like he’s wanted like crazy and hasn’t even been able to put into words because he didn’t know. He didn’t fucking know.
Jensen comes first, shooting hot and fast all over his stomach, and just seeing that is enough to bring Jared over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him so hard he’s pretty sure he won’t be good for anything for a good week and a half.
He tries to keep his weight from settling on top of Jensen, summoning up enough energy to roll off of him, dispose of the condom in the garbage can next to the bed (he hopes, as long as he didn’t miss), and fall back onto the bed with a blissful sigh.
Jensen smacks him in the chest. “You think you could sound a little more girly there, Gigantor?”
Jared beams and chuckles at that. “Hey, you were the one who just got fucked in the ass, you big girl.”
“Oh, man, getting laid does nothing for your conversational skills, you know that?”
“You just used a five-syllable word after sex. You lose.”
“You counted. You lose more.“
Jared turns to face Jensen, taking in the dazed expression on his face, the rumpled well-fucked look of him, and … yeah. Yeah, this could be okay. They could do this. “Maybe I’m not being nearly distracted enough,” he says, and drags his hand down the front of Jensen’s chest to make his point.
Jensen flinches when Jared’s fingertips drift over his abs, just waiting for Jared to tickle him or some stupid thing, but instead his hand settles near Jensen’s still-sensitive cock. Jensen eyes Jared’s hand like he expects it to try something and start this all over again, and the look on his face is so damn stern Jared can’t resist his laughter.
“Yeah,” Jensen says, “you’re definitely not being distracted nearly enough.”
But he snuggles closer like a goddamn girl and grabs at all the covers, and the next thing either one of them knows they conk out and go right to sleep.
*
He hauls Jensen into the shower as soon as he wakes up because there’s something he wants to do and he has to do this first. It’s the only way he’s ever been able to screw up the courage to do it, but when he does … oh, fuck, when he does, it’s like he never wants to stop.
They make out under the water, giving each other slow and lazy hand jobs and trading hot wet kisses back and forth.
“You’d better not be reading my mind right now,” Jared says, leaning close to suck lightly on Jensen’s earlobe.
Jensen’s breath hitches. “Yeah, well, you’d better be kidding about that,” he says, but he rubs his thumb over the head of Jared’s cock then, hitting just the right spot to make Jared moan long and low and deep into the curve of Jensen’s neck. Jensen’s fingers stroke Jared’s cock like he’s the goddamn world expert on hand jobs, like if you asked him to present his thesis on the subject he could whip out pie charts and a sculpture of his fingers about another guy’s dick as visual aids.
“You’re an evil mastermind,” Jared murmurs into his hair, loving the faint scent of coconut it carries. “You’re probably plotting world domination while you’re in here distracting me by doing obscene things to me.”
Jensen just laughs into his chest and says, “Aren’t you glad Dr. Evil didn’t use this approach?”
“Please don’t mention Mike Myers while I have your dick in my hand.”
“I’ll try not to,” Jensen says, and passes Jared the soap.
Afterwards Jared pulls Jensen from the shower stall, towels him down with gentle soothing swipes of the terrycloth over his skin. He kisses Jensen’s shoulder, licking at the cinnamon splash of freckles there, then turns Jensen in his arms and eases him into resting his arms against the tiled bathroom wall.
“Don’t move,” he says.
Jensen doesn’t even ask why, just props himself up and groans as Jared’s broad hands skim along his shoulders, his back, and lower still. They finally come to rest on his hips, caressing the curves of Jensen’s ass with his hands before pulling them apart and dragging his tongue over the crease there.
“Oh, fuck, Jared,” Jensen hisses past clenched teeth, and Jared thinks maybe he’s trying to get a solid grip on the tiles in a futile effort to hold one.
He kisses it lightly, a subtle tease, then dips his tongue inside and laps.
I swear to fucking God, Jared, if you stop I really will become a goddamn super villain just for spite.
Jared chuckles as he slips one hand forward, a light brush over Jensen’s balls as he curls his tongue inside Jensen’s ass, and that’s it. That’s fucking it, all it takes. Jensen’s done for, comes hard and keeps coming, milky splashes staining the walls and Jared’s hand.
Jared gets to his feet, waits until Jensen regains his composure and licks the remnants of Jensen’s release from his palm. Jensen sags a little in his arms, the scent of sex thick and heady in the bathroom.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Jensen says, nuzzling sleepily at Jared’s neck. “You’re a terrible superhero. You should be disbarred.”
“That’s lawyers,” Jared says with a grin. He drags his hand along the smooth slope of Jensen’s back, the warm comforting weight of him in Jensen‘s arms.
Jensen shrugs. “Whatever. They should take away your spandex privileges.”
“Jerk.”
“If you’re trying to get me to return the favor, Jay, that’s probably not going to work.”
“Right. Good point.”
*
“Did you think about me?”
Jared doesn’t even know where that comes from, especially since saying it makes him feel about twelve years old and like a girl. Jensen raises his head to stare at him, the dark mark he’s sucked into the dip of Jared’s hipbone standing out like a brand on his skin.
“Come again?”
Restraining himself from the obvious wisecrack, Jared wriggles a little on the bed, hoping his ears haven’t gone that fabulously bright shade of red right about now. “I just … I had these dreams about you, you know?”
Jensen’s smirk grows, and he nips at Jared’s thigh not far from his half-hard cock. “What was I doing in these dreams of yours, Jay?” he asks. “Something like this, maybe?”
He leans forward and drags his tongue over Jared’s balls, a steady heated pressure, sucking them into his mouth before pulling back at Jared’s groan of pleasure.
“Jesus fuck, Jensen, you were there,” he says, “that was all it took, man.”
When he regains a little more of his composure and looks down the bed at Jensen, Jensen’s staring back at him with narrowed assessing eyes, one palm skating lightly over Jared’s cock as if only a small part of his brain is still devoted to getting him off and by God, it’s going to follow through. But the rest of him’s watching Jared like it doesn’t know what to make of him, like it doesn’t know what he’s made of but it’s pretty damn willing to find out.
“Jen?” Jared says, soft and quiet.
Jensen crawls up the length of him then, their bodies touching from head to toe. Jensen presses his forehead against Jared’s and bites at his lips, waits for them to open on their own and slips inside.
Jared kisses him for all he’s worth, with every trick in his arsenal, one large hand cupping Jensen’s head and the other resting on his ass, holding him close. He spreads his legs just right and Jensen settles in, fits and clicks and locks into place like he’s meant to be there.
Like he’s home.
*
Jared wakes up to Jensen pressed up against him and breathing his nasty-ass morning breath into Jared’s neck. The timer on the TV means the damn thing is on in the living room and -- from the sound of things -- is tuned to some cheesy talk show with screeching rednecks with questionable genetics as the main guests.
Sadie’s wriggled her way onto the bed, somehow managing to get out of the other bedroom and squeeze her way into the one spot she might possibly fit into right behind Jared. It’s like she’s a heavy warm log intended to keep him from rolling out of bed When he tries to look over his shoulder at her she makes a chuffling sound in her sleep and burrows further down into the mattress.
He thinks he can smell bacon but maybe he’s just gone insane.
But, you know, in a good way. He’s got his dogs and his job and his costume thrown over the chair next to his bed and the man he thinks me might be a little in love with in his arms, and --
“And if you don’t stop thinking so damn loud I’m going to pour hot coffee over your head,” Jensen grumbles, cracking open one eyelid and giving him a dirty look.
“You’re pretty damn grumpy in the mornings,” Jared says.
Jensen stretches with a yawn before flopping onto his back and tugging Jared closer. “Yeah, well, you get used to it,” he says.
He’s back to sleep before he can see the grin that spreads Jared’s face
All things considered, that’s probably Jared‘s good luck right there.
*
Two years later
Fire engulfs the crumbling apartment building like a pride of lions devouring the remains of some poor dopey wildebeest, tearing it to pieces that rain down over the sidewalks. Crowds gather in small groups far enough away from the blaze to ensure their safety, murmuring and pointing. It’s the typical rubbernecking Jared’s come to expect when he arrives for these things, and when they see him land on the roof he could swear he hears a few of them applaud.
After hearing this morning that Supernatural‘s been renewed for a third season, he’s almost in a good enough mood to break character and smile stupidly at that.
Come on, big man, he hears Jensen say in his head. Let’s get crackin’.
It doesn’t take a lot of concentration for him to decrease his density and drop through the roof, landing with precision and grace in a seventh-floor hallway choked with thick black smoke. If he lowers his density to just the right point, he can still walk on the floors and not be hacking up a lung or feeling the heat. It’s not the most comfortable sensation in the world -- it’s like holding onto your body with the barest grip on the soles of your feet and nowhere else -- but if it means someone’s life gets saved, he’ll take his chances.
Left, Jay, Jensen says in his head.
Jared nods, turning to head down that particular hallway. Before he can take a step, a small section of the roof collapses in front of him, scaring up a wave of sparks and flames.
No, man, your OTHER left.
“Gee, thanks,” Jared mutters, then starts walking through the dark depths of the other hallway. “You want to come in here and do this?”
Not really. You want me to save you a beer for when you get back out here?
Oh, yeah. Nights like this and Jared is sorely tempted to kick Jensen’s ass when he gets out of here. Of course, it always ends up that he’s so wired after patrol that he’d much rather do something else with Jensen’s ass, but whatever.
And now that he‘s got that thought in his head there‘s no way in hell of getting it out again, and he says, “I’ve got better ideas for what you can do for me when I get out there,” as he ducks between dancing flames to enter the only apartment at this end of the hallway.
The door’s off the hinges for some reason Jared doesn’t even want to contemplate. For a second he’s sure that Jensen is wrong, even though he’s never wrong about this stuff, that there’s not really someone in here and he’s making a mistake. The heat in the room peels the paint from the walls and practically boils the air, and if it weren’t for his own powers Jared would probably be a six-foot-five ball of fire right now.
“Mister?”
Jared turns to see a small pale face staring at him through the gap in a slightly opened closet door, a small hand still reaching up to grip the doorknob.
Gotcha, Jensen says in his head.
Quickly Jared rushes over and kneels before the closet door, cracking it open even more. The little girl hiding inside looks terrified, her wide brown eyes welling with tears, but she doesn’t look injured or like she’s feeling the effects of the smoke and heat at all.
“Hey there,” he says, because he can’t think of anything more to say to a kid he suspects he has a lot in common with.
He has just enough time to solidify a little before she throws herself at him, small and warm and trembling, and wraps her thin arms around his neck so tightly that he can barely breathe. “I’m scared,” she says into the curve of his shoulder.
“I know,” he says. He rubs his hand over her back as he stands up, lessening their density once again, and gives her a bright smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hold on tight, okay?”
She nods tightly and clutches at him, and he lets them drop right through the damn floor.
The fall to the ground floor takes seconds, slipping through the floors and ceilings, descending through beds and couches and scattered furniture as if all of it is simply a mirage. He lands in a crouch without tripping or falling over or anything, something he really fucking appreciates right now, and his grip on the little girl doesn’t slip an inch.
“Wow,” she says in that long drawn-out way kids do, and he beams.
“Let’s go find your mommy,” he says, and taps her on the nose with his finger, which makes her giggle.
He walks through the front of the building and out into the street to a chorus of applause, the crowd ecstatic and the police and firemen not all that surprised to see him there. They clap him on the back as he walks towards a crying dark-haired woman standing next to an ambulance. He passes the little girl off to her and the two of them clutch at one another.
“Oh, God, Becky!” She pushes the long hair away from the little girl’s face as she double-checks her for injuries. Then she looks at Jared with gratitude shining in her eyes and says, “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” he says, thankful that at least with the cowl on even if his ears are turning red it‘s not like she can see. He leans down a little and flashes the little girl a brilliant smile. “Bye, Becky.”
“Bye, mister,” she says.
The dazed giddy look doesn’t leave his face as he quickly darts through the crowd as if they weren’t even there and through the walls of a closed grocery store. A familiar engine growls loud and strong not far away and he heads straight for it, the same way he does with Jensen’s voice and scent and the welcome weight of his palm pressing against Jared’s chest right over his heart.
Jensen waits on his motorcycle in the alleyway across from the grocery store, far enough away from the fire not to be noticed but close enough to have a crystal-clear view of what’s happening. Jared can’t even see his face behind the helmet but his just being there, waiting for Jared like he always does, spreads a fierce protective warmth through Jared that he never wants to stop feeling.
Well, aren’t you the most adorable thing on the planet holding a kid?
Jared swipes at Jensen’s helmet with one hand as he approaches and Jensen ducks away, the amused smirk he has to be sporting hidden beneath the dark reflective surface of the visor. “Hey, I don’t see you running into burning buildings,” Jared says.
Jensen just shrugs. Doesn‘t mean we don‘t make a good team.
“We’re not a team,” Jared reminds him, even though Jensen‘s got a point and just thinking it makes him grin like an idiot.
Of course we’re not.
“I mean, if we were a team, it’d probably be twice as wrong as it already is for me to suck your cock when we get home.”
Jensen makes this sound in his head like he’s swallowed his tongue, which settles a strange spark of accomplishment in Jared’s body. Hell, if you can make a guy sound like he’s choking on his tongue when he’s not even using it to speak, that’s saying something.
When he finally manages to get a hold of himself Jensen adjusts the motorcycle to better speed off in an instant and says, Why do I put up with you again?
Jared just grins and walks off down the alley, letting his mind drift in quick succession through mental images of his mouth sucking dark marks all over the insides of Jensen’s thighs, his hands gently pressing Jensen’s legs apart, his tongue licking and sliding into --
The motorcycle revs behind him.
Hey! No fair thinkin’ about it.
Laughing, Jared casts a catch-me-if-you-can look over his shoulder before lowering his density and pushing off towards the sky.
THE END … OR IS IT?!
Yes, it is. Don‘t hurt me. I couldn‘t resist. ;)
If It Wasn‘t For You Meddling Kids
Jared stumbles around the bedroom that night as he awkwardly tugs on his costume feeling a lot like a giraffe trying to put on a leotard. It’s just one of those nights where he’d rather just curl up on the couch with the dogs and watch whatever lame crap is showing on Comedy Central at two in the morning. And instead he’s throwing on his stupid spandex costume and his dumbass cowl so that he can go fight crime and save people’s lives.
Alone.
He tugs on the cowl in front of the bathroom mirror, the dogs watching with a complete lack of interest from where they’re sprawled in front of the TV. He raises his fingers to tuck under the last errant locks of brown hair …
… and stops.
He takes it off again, rumpling his hair after he does. See? That was easy. The cowl is lightweight and cool against the back of his neck, easy enough to pull off his head.
A motorcycle helmet couldn’t be that hard to take off.
No. No. He can’t -- it isn’t right.
Jared frowns and pulls the cowl back on, arranges it so it doesn’t block his eyes, tucks under the last bit of his hair.
He wonders if Nobody is out there somewhere right now, doing the same old routine of getting ready for patrol. Pulling on his pants and boots, zipping up his jacket, arranging his helmet on his head. He wonders if Nobody even gives a damn what he’s doing right now, if he even thinks about “Shadow” once he drives off on that goddamn motorcycle of his.
If he ever wakes up in the middle of the night, hard and aching and wanting, and strokes his cock with Jared’s muscles and eyes and brilliant smile in his mind.
Oh, great, now he moved on from exhaustion to torturing himself.
“Fuck this shit,” he mutters as he puts the dogs in the other bedroom for the night.
A push off from the floor in the living room and he’s through the wall and flying through the sky, heading for downtown. And he is absolutely not going to think about Nobody at all tonight.
Ever.
No, seriously.
Oh, stop looking at him like that.
Jared skips out on hitting the rooftops and ends up down by the docks. The way he figures it, hanging out in the city means possibly running into Tom or Mike or Nobody, while staying by the docks for the rest of the night means smelling vaguely like fish and saving anybody dumb enough to try swimming in the shipping lanes at midnight.
Apparently no one’s dumb enough to try a stunt like that.
Well, try it tonight, in any event.
Fancy seeing you here.
Jared startles and turns around and that goddamn bike’s parked not ten feet away from him. He doesn’t know how he managed to get so damn close without Jared hearing him, but … well, hell, it’s the understatement of the year to say that Jared’s a little distracted.
“Can we not talk right now?” he asks, turning back to the water.
It‘s possible, yeah, the voice in his head says.
But he doesn’t hear Nobody leave, and he has a feeling the guy’s just sitting there watching him and waiting for his next move. “You know what I’m thinking, right?”
A long pause follows, filled with the sounds of water lapping against the land and boats bumping against the docks. Not everything, he says.
“You could, though.”
You don’t want me to do that.
Jared finally turns to look at him again, wishing he could just see the guy‘s goddamn eyes behind that helmet. It‘s hard to let someone know that you can‘t stop thinking about them, that you wake up at night with their voice in your head and your hand around you dick, when you can‘t even be sure you‘re looking into their fucking eyes.
“Yeah, I do,” he says.
Waves of unease flow from Nobody like strong perfume, teasing at the edges of Jared‘s senses. Jared gets the impression he barely if ever lets himself gets close to anyone, that maybe he’s been burned badly by someone and revealing anything more than his mere existence has gotten himself in a hell of a lot of trouble before.
Jared knows the feeling. Acting’s one thing, but the superhero business could drag you under so fast that you don’t even know you’re suffocating until it’s too late to save yourself.
But offering your mind up to a telepath on a silver platter is the worst idea on the planet. The good telepaths skirted around the edges of your mind, took what they needed but nothing you’d miss. Listened in on your conversations but not what you really wanted to say. Looked through your eyes and picked up on the sound coming into your ears but ignored everything that wasn’t necessary.
The bad telepaths, the ones who’d gone bad … well, those were the ones who danced through your mind without permission and invaded your mental privacy like they’d gleefully rummage through your underwear drawer.
Jared doesn’t think Nobody’s the type to be a supervillain.
If nothing else, his ride’s definitely not expensive enough.
You don’t even know me, the voice in his head says, quiet and steady.
Jared levels his gaze at Nobody. “You so sure about that?”
The figure on the bike tenses up a little like he’s ready for a fight, but within seconds Jared hears, No, echo in his head like a confession.
It’s like a release hearing that, like all of his pent-up energy suddenly explodes from his fingertips. He can’t stop grinning, may never stop, and he has to look down just to make sure his feet are still touching the ground.
He walks towards Nobody in small cautious steps like someone approaching a skittish colt, and he hears himself rambling but doesn‘t know what he‘s saying before the words pass his lips. “Look, as childish and stupid as it sounds I really like you, man. And I’m not about to go ripping off your helmet or anything like that just to find out who you are, so if you’re not going to tell me a damn thing about you then you might as well --”
I train elephants how to juggle.
Jared freezes in mid-step.
He can’t have heard what he thinks he heard in his head. It’s just something that popped into his head, some wandering thought that made a wrong turn at Albuquerque and ended up in the middle of a mental conversation it didn’t belong in.
“What did you say?” he asks.
You heard me, Jay, the man on the bike says in his head.
Holy hell, it was him, wasn’t it?
He isn’t about to say the name out loud -- you just didn’t do that while you were in costume, superhero etiquette and all -- but he can think it. He highly doubts he could say it out loud even if it there wasn’t the possibility of someone overhearing, which you always had to assume there was.
But it was him.
Jensen?
It takes a long moment, but Jared finally gets a short tight nod in response.
The air whooshes from his lungs in a ragged exhale.
He doesn’t even know what to say to that, but now that he knows what under that helmet he can picture Jensen inside it, familiar muscles shaping the leather. And it doesn’t even matter that it’s Jensen and it does all at the same time. The heat pooling in Jared’s chest spreads with the knowledge that Jensen’s in there, that if he peeled away that jacket, he’d find --
Oh, fuck, is he reading Jared’s mind right now?
No, of course he isn’t.
The two of them stare at one another for a long strained moment. The words don’t come and their voices don’t seem to work, and then there’s the sounds of sirens in the distance and Jared tenses up like he always does when he hears them.
He’s meant to follow them. It’s what he’s meant to do. And this -- whatever this is -- can wait.
Not for long, though. Sweet Jesus, Jared’s feeling a little like a coiled spring right now, all barely contained energy and the urge to rip that helmet from Jensen’s head and kiss him stupid.
“Meet me in an hour?” he says.
He waits for Jensen to nod before he pushes away from the ground and flies towards the sirens.
Forty-five minutes later he lands in his hotel room, wired and confused and practically bouncing off the walls.
Jensen.
Jensen Ackles is the goddamn superhero he’s been lusting after for months.
That lying little bastard.
And yeah, Jared hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming person on the planet, but Jensen could have told him. It’s not like Jared wouldn’t have believed him. And besides, Jared’s trustworthy. Jared’s so fucking trustworthy he should be used to hold state secrets. He’s that damn trustworthy.
They could have been fucking for weeks.
Jared stops pacing the length of the living room abruptly. Oh, hell, does Jensen even … what if he doesn’t … oh, fuck.
What if Jensen doesn’t want him?
It sounds patently ridiculous when he puts it that way in his head, and he has to run his fingers through his hair to try to make himself stop feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.
For him, it just clicked. Nobody is Jensen is Nobody, and he wants the one so now he wants the other. And maybe he even wanted the other long before he knew who he really was. Maybe.
He doesn’t even know anymore.
He just knows the tremble in his fingers and the anxious glances he keeps darting towards the hotel room door, and the tingling heat in his skin and the way he’s already growing hard like this, just from the waiting.
There’s a rap at the door and Jared’s stomach plummets hard and fast.
Jay, I know they’re in there.
Jared lets loose of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, the weight of it released from his chest leaving him light and empty inside.
He doesn’t even bother with opening the door, a simple waste of his time. He just reaches through the door as if it isn’t even there, glances both ways down the hall of the hotel before grabbing onto Jensen’s collar and hauling him right through the damn door.
“Jesus, Jay,” Jensen says, right about the time that his ankle’s still passing ghostly and insubstantial through the hardwood. “Next time, warn a guy, would ya?”
He presses Jensen against the door, the both of them solid and whole again, and Jesus, he’s still wearing the goddamn leather. His gaze connects with Jensen’s, with those green eyes that constantly twinkle with hidden mischief, and Jensen tilts his head just so. He slides one hand up Jared’s bicep and the other falls onto Jared’s hip, caressing bone and flesh through dark blue spandex, and he falls.
They fall together.
“I thought you could read minds,” Jared whispers, right before he leans forward and bites at that freckled patch of skin right under Jensen’s ear. He nibbles at the skin, tastes and suckles and takes over. Before today the man in his arms was a blank slate, clear and clean and untouched.
Jared’s not about to let that go any further.
“Yeah, well, not all the time,” Jensen says, his breath hitching. He grabs at the back of Jared‘s head and holds on tight, fingers threading through Jared‘s hair as his tongue rasps over Jensen‘s neck. “That’s just -- fuck, man -- that’s just rude.”
Jared grins at the reaction sliding his hand over Jensen’s crotch gets, the hissed curse that accompanies the firm pressure of his palm over the thick erection hidden there.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” he says.
He doesn’t mean to say it. This isn’t the place to have that particular discussion, not with Jared’s hand deftly working at the zipper of Jensen’s leather pants and their shared breath passing back and forth as their lips ghost over one another.
Jensen tilts his head back, smirking in that familiar way that Jared knows and loves. “That’s a two-way street, Jay.”
Jared can’t argue that, but he doesn’t want to. He slides his hand away from Jensen’s cock, still pressing urgently against his zipper, choosing instead to reach up and get off that goddamn leather jacket. It keeps his hands occupied, keeps them from grabbing on and not letting go when they finally, finally kiss, and it’s …
Jesus, it’s fucking perfect.
Jensen’s tongue slips into his mouth like it had wanted to move in forever, sliding over his teeth and licking at the inside of his mouth with all of the enthusiasm of a starving man. Jared kisses back with the giddy stupid part of his brain in charge, sucking at Jensen’s tongue like it’s made out of caramel and taffy, sugary and sweet.
He dips his head then, the jacket falling open, and he leans down to take a deep breath of the heady scent of the leather before slipping it from Jensen’s shoulders. He wears a black T-shirt underneath it and Jared tugs that away too, so desperate to reach warm freckled skin that he practically tears the damn thing off before common sense prevails.
“I can’t read minds, Jen,” he says.
He bends forward and presses his lips to Jensen’s chest, slides them along until he can latch them around a flat nipple and rasp his tongue over it in long deliberate strokes.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Jensen says, but he’s choking on his words and tugging at Jared’s costume, at five thousand miles of skintight spandex.
Jared pulls Jensen’s hands away from his costume, grips them at the wrist as he stares into Jen’s eyes.
“What if I don’t want to?” he asks, then slips to his knees without waiting for an answer.
And there‘s that smirk again, tugging at full lips Jared can‘t wait to taste again. But later. Not right now when he‘s on his knees in front of Jensen, hands running up and down his thighs, fingers moving upward to finish the job he’d started with that damn zipper.
Jensen‘s palm drifts over his hair, tangling in the soft brown strands. “I can work with that,” he says.
Jared takes another deep breath, leather and sweat and exhaust, the same damn scents that have been haunting his dreams for weeks now. He shudders as he yanks open Jensen’s pants, but Jensen’s hand smoothes through his hair like he’s a goddamn cat, and it’s okay. It’s okay.
Jensen’s half-hard when Jared pulls his cock out, long fingers wrapping around it by instinct. He’s done this before though not that often, but it’s just like riding a bicycle. He has the insane thought that he doesn’t even want to know where the training wheels go and distracts himself by sliding his lips over the head of Jensen’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and taking him in as far as he can.
“Damn it, Jared,” he says, and for a split second Jared’s afraid that he’s wrong, that he’s fucking it up somehow. But then Jensen’s fingers tighten in his hair, a shaky moan erupting from the depths of his chest, and Jared relaxes before bobbing his head over Jensen’s cock.
He could never have seen his night ending like this, Jensen half-naked before him and grasping at him as he sucks greedily at the dick in his mouth. He’s wanted this for … God, for so fucking long, and now he’s here.
He’s doing this, and he’s not sure he ever wants it to end.
Jensen tugs him away without warning, except maybe that is his warning, and the next thing Jared knows Jensen’s coming in thick ropes all over Jared’s hand, gentle fingers stroking him through his orgasm.
“See, that,” Jensen says when he finally catches his breathe again, “is what we could have been doing if you had just told me the truth from the beginning.”
Jared grins and says, “Keep it up, loudmouth, and you won’t get fucked.”
It takes them a good ten minutes to get into the bedroom and strip out of their clothes, Jared’s costume being more of a bitch to get out of than Jensen suspected.
“How do you do this every damn night?” he asks, trying to pull it down Jared’s shoulders and scowling when he fails miserably.
“Patience,” he says. “A fucking boatload of patience.”
“So that’s what you waste it on,” Jensen mutters.
Jared undoes a hidden clasp here and there and the thing comes apart a little easier but not by much -- although that’s kind of the point in a patrol situation -- and as soon as the damn thing’s off he’s on Jensen’s like a crazed man, steering him towards the bed and pushing him down onto the mattress.
As soon as Jensen sinks onto the mattress Jared’s body comes down on top of him and the next thing Jared knows they’re kissing again, making out like crazy as their hands drift over each other. Jensen’s hand rests at the small of Jared’s back, fingers spread as he presses Jared down, an that shouldn’t be half as fucking hot as it is.
“You’ve got stuff, right?” Jensen says, and Jared gives him a jerky nod in response.
He reaches for the drawer of the nightstand and pulls it open, takes out the lube and condoms inside and tries not to think about why they were in there in the first place. The last thing he needs is for Jensen to pick up the thought that Sandy got him the stuff as a going-away present. Just in case that moron in the leather gets his shit together, she’d said.
Jensen laughs then, like he’s trying to restrain himself and failing miserably, and Jared scowls down at him. “You did not!”
“Dude, you might want to try not thinking about things you don’t want me to know in the mental version of bright pink neon lights.”
Jared grabs onto his side and squeezes and Jensen squirms underneath him. “Jay, now is so not the time to do the ticklish thing, all right? Jesus.” He snatches the lube from Jared‘s grasp and says, “Gimme that.”
It takes Jared a second to figure out where he’s going this, why Jensen’s pouring a generous amount of the stuff into his hand and slipping his hand down … oh, fuck. “I’m going to die, aren’t I? You’re going to kill me with sex.”
“God, I hope not,” Jensen says. His fingers disappear from Jared’s line of sight and he moves back a little, wanting to see, needing to catch a glimpse of Jensen’s fingers opening for Jared.
Jensen grins then and spreads his legs wider, two fingers working his ass open, and Christ, Jared’s going to hyperventilate if Jensen keeps this up.
Jensen’s fingers thrust in and out of his ass, readying him for what’s to come. He finally reaches out with one hand and urges Jared closer, leans up and trails kisses along Jared’s jaw line. “Well, come on,” he says, and a second later Jared’s rolling on the condom before Jensen slicks him up and then --
“Oh, motherfucker,” Jared says, sliding into Jensen in one long slow thrust.
He can barely breathe and he doesn’t even know if he can get his body to work without coming so fast he’ll embarrass the hell out of himself. But then Jensen pulls him close with his thighs and hands and says, “Move, you jerk, or I swear to God,” and Jared can’t stop himself.
He pulls back and pushes back in so damn slow and deep and hard that he expects Jensen to complain, but somewhere along the line Jensen presses close and whispers, “Come on, baby.”
Jared thrusts so hard in response he practically knocks the damn paintings off the walls, and Jensen lets loose with a guttural groan that sounds like it comes all the way up from his damn toes. Jared can’t think or breathe, he can just fuck Jensen like he’s been needing to do for months now, like he’s wanted like crazy and hasn’t even been able to put into words because he didn’t know. He didn’t fucking know.
Jensen comes first, shooting hot and fast all over his stomach, and just seeing that is enough to bring Jared over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him so hard he’s pretty sure he won’t be good for anything for a good week and a half.
He tries to keep his weight from settling on top of Jensen, summoning up enough energy to roll off of him, dispose of the condom in the garbage can next to the bed (he hopes, as long as he didn’t miss), and fall back onto the bed with a blissful sigh.
Jensen smacks him in the chest. “You think you could sound a little more girly there, Gigantor?”
Jared beams and chuckles at that. “Hey, you were the one who just got fucked in the ass, you big girl.”
“Oh, man, getting laid does nothing for your conversational skills, you know that?”
“You just used a five-syllable word after sex. You lose.”
“You counted. You lose more.“
Jared turns to face Jensen, taking in the dazed expression on his face, the rumpled well-fucked look of him, and … yeah. Yeah, this could be okay. They could do this. “Maybe I’m not being nearly distracted enough,” he says, and drags his hand down the front of Jensen’s chest to make his point.
Jensen flinches when Jared’s fingertips drift over his abs, just waiting for Jared to tickle him or some stupid thing, but instead his hand settles near Jensen’s still-sensitive cock. Jensen eyes Jared’s hand like he expects it to try something and start this all over again, and the look on his face is so damn stern Jared can’t resist his laughter.
“Yeah,” Jensen says, “you’re definitely not being distracted nearly enough.”
But he snuggles closer like a goddamn girl and grabs at all the covers, and the next thing either one of them knows they conk out and go right to sleep.
He hauls Jensen into the shower as soon as he wakes up because there’s something he wants to do and he has to do this first. It’s the only way he’s ever been able to screw up the courage to do it, but when he does … oh, fuck, when he does, it’s like he never wants to stop.
They make out under the water, giving each other slow and lazy hand jobs and trading hot wet kisses back and forth.
“You’d better not be reading my mind right now,” Jared says, leaning close to suck lightly on Jensen’s earlobe.
Jensen’s breath hitches. “Yeah, well, you’d better be kidding about that,” he says, but he rubs his thumb over the head of Jared’s cock then, hitting just the right spot to make Jared moan long and low and deep into the curve of Jensen’s neck. Jensen’s fingers stroke Jared’s cock like he’s the goddamn world expert on hand jobs, like if you asked him to present his thesis on the subject he could whip out pie charts and a sculpture of his fingers about another guy’s dick as visual aids.
“You’re an evil mastermind,” Jared murmurs into his hair, loving the faint scent of coconut it carries. “You’re probably plotting world domination while you’re in here distracting me by doing obscene things to me.”
Jensen just laughs into his chest and says, “Aren’t you glad Dr. Evil didn’t use this approach?”
“Please don’t mention Mike Myers while I have your dick in my hand.”
“I’ll try not to,” Jensen says, and passes Jared the soap.
Afterwards Jared pulls Jensen from the shower stall, towels him down with gentle soothing swipes of the terrycloth over his skin. He kisses Jensen’s shoulder, licking at the cinnamon splash of freckles there, then turns Jensen in his arms and eases him into resting his arms against the tiled bathroom wall.
“Don’t move,” he says.
Jensen doesn’t even ask why, just props himself up and groans as Jared’s broad hands skim along his shoulders, his back, and lower still. They finally come to rest on his hips, caressing the curves of Jensen’s ass with his hands before pulling them apart and dragging his tongue over the crease there.
“Oh, fuck, Jared,” Jensen hisses past clenched teeth, and Jared thinks maybe he’s trying to get a solid grip on the tiles in a futile effort to hold one.
He kisses it lightly, a subtle tease, then dips his tongue inside and laps.
I swear to fucking God, Jared, if you stop I really will become a goddamn super villain just for spite.
Jared chuckles as he slips one hand forward, a light brush over Jensen’s balls as he curls his tongue inside Jensen’s ass, and that’s it. That’s fucking it, all it takes. Jensen’s done for, comes hard and keeps coming, milky splashes staining the walls and Jared’s hand.
Jared gets to his feet, waits until Jensen regains his composure and licks the remnants of Jensen’s release from his palm. Jensen sags a little in his arms, the scent of sex thick and heady in the bathroom.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Jensen says, nuzzling sleepily at Jared’s neck. “You’re a terrible superhero. You should be disbarred.”
“That’s lawyers,” Jared says with a grin. He drags his hand along the smooth slope of Jensen’s back, the warm comforting weight of him in Jensen‘s arms.
Jensen shrugs. “Whatever. They should take away your spandex privileges.”
“Jerk.”
“If you’re trying to get me to return the favor, Jay, that’s probably not going to work.”
“Right. Good point.”
“Did you think about me?”
Jared doesn’t even know where that comes from, especially since saying it makes him feel about twelve years old and like a girl. Jensen raises his head to stare at him, the dark mark he’s sucked into the dip of Jared’s hipbone standing out like a brand on his skin.
“Come again?”
Restraining himself from the obvious wisecrack, Jared wriggles a little on the bed, hoping his ears haven’t gone that fabulously bright shade of red right about now. “I just … I had these dreams about you, you know?”
Jensen’s smirk grows, and he nips at Jared’s thigh not far from his half-hard cock. “What was I doing in these dreams of yours, Jay?” he asks. “Something like this, maybe?”
He leans forward and drags his tongue over Jared’s balls, a steady heated pressure, sucking them into his mouth before pulling back at Jared’s groan of pleasure.
“Jesus fuck, Jensen, you were there,” he says, “that was all it took, man.”
When he regains a little more of his composure and looks down the bed at Jensen, Jensen’s staring back at him with narrowed assessing eyes, one palm skating lightly over Jared’s cock as if only a small part of his brain is still devoted to getting him off and by God, it’s going to follow through. But the rest of him’s watching Jared like it doesn’t know what to make of him, like it doesn’t know what he’s made of but it’s pretty damn willing to find out.
“Jen?” Jared says, soft and quiet.
Jensen crawls up the length of him then, their bodies touching from head to toe. Jensen presses his forehead against Jared’s and bites at his lips, waits for them to open on their own and slips inside.
Jared kisses him for all he’s worth, with every trick in his arsenal, one large hand cupping Jensen’s head and the other resting on his ass, holding him close. He spreads his legs just right and Jensen settles in, fits and clicks and locks into place like he’s meant to be there.
Like he’s home.
Jared wakes up to Jensen pressed up against him and breathing his nasty-ass morning breath into Jared’s neck. The timer on the TV means the damn thing is on in the living room and -- from the sound of things -- is tuned to some cheesy talk show with screeching rednecks with questionable genetics as the main guests.
Sadie’s wriggled her way onto the bed, somehow managing to get out of the other bedroom and squeeze her way into the one spot she might possibly fit into right behind Jared. It’s like she’s a heavy warm log intended to keep him from rolling out of bed When he tries to look over his shoulder at her she makes a chuffling sound in her sleep and burrows further down into the mattress.
He thinks he can smell bacon but maybe he’s just gone insane.
But, you know, in a good way. He’s got his dogs and his job and his costume thrown over the chair next to his bed and the man he thinks me might be a little in love with in his arms, and --
“And if you don’t stop thinking so damn loud I’m going to pour hot coffee over your head,” Jensen grumbles, cracking open one eyelid and giving him a dirty look.
“You’re pretty damn grumpy in the mornings,” Jared says.
Jensen stretches with a yawn before flopping onto his back and tugging Jared closer. “Yeah, well, you get used to it,” he says.
He’s back to sleep before he can see the grin that spreads Jared’s face
All things considered, that’s probably Jared‘s good luck right there.
Two years later
Fire engulfs the crumbling apartment building like a pride of lions devouring the remains of some poor dopey wildebeest, tearing it to pieces that rain down over the sidewalks. Crowds gather in small groups far enough away from the blaze to ensure their safety, murmuring and pointing. It’s the typical rubbernecking Jared’s come to expect when he arrives for these things, and when they see him land on the roof he could swear he hears a few of them applaud.
After hearing this morning that Supernatural‘s been renewed for a third season, he’s almost in a good enough mood to break character and smile stupidly at that.
Come on, big man, he hears Jensen say in his head. Let’s get crackin’.
It doesn’t take a lot of concentration for him to decrease his density and drop through the roof, landing with precision and grace in a seventh-floor hallway choked with thick black smoke. If he lowers his density to just the right point, he can still walk on the floors and not be hacking up a lung or feeling the heat. It’s not the most comfortable sensation in the world -- it’s like holding onto your body with the barest grip on the soles of your feet and nowhere else -- but if it means someone’s life gets saved, he’ll take his chances.
Left, Jay, Jensen says in his head.
Jared nods, turning to head down that particular hallway. Before he can take a step, a small section of the roof collapses in front of him, scaring up a wave of sparks and flames.
No, man, your OTHER left.
“Gee, thanks,” Jared mutters, then starts walking through the dark depths of the other hallway. “You want to come in here and do this?”
Not really. You want me to save you a beer for when you get back out here?
Oh, yeah. Nights like this and Jared is sorely tempted to kick Jensen’s ass when he gets out of here. Of course, it always ends up that he’s so wired after patrol that he’d much rather do something else with Jensen’s ass, but whatever.
And now that he‘s got that thought in his head there‘s no way in hell of getting it out again, and he says, “I’ve got better ideas for what you can do for me when I get out there,” as he ducks between dancing flames to enter the only apartment at this end of the hallway.
The door’s off the hinges for some reason Jared doesn’t even want to contemplate. For a second he’s sure that Jensen is wrong, even though he’s never wrong about this stuff, that there’s not really someone in here and he’s making a mistake. The heat in the room peels the paint from the walls and practically boils the air, and if it weren’t for his own powers Jared would probably be a six-foot-five ball of fire right now.
“Mister?”
Jared turns to see a small pale face staring at him through the gap in a slightly opened closet door, a small hand still reaching up to grip the doorknob.
Gotcha, Jensen says in his head.
Quickly Jared rushes over and kneels before the closet door, cracking it open even more. The little girl hiding inside looks terrified, her wide brown eyes welling with tears, but she doesn’t look injured or like she’s feeling the effects of the smoke and heat at all.
“Hey there,” he says, because he can’t think of anything more to say to a kid he suspects he has a lot in common with.
He has just enough time to solidify a little before she throws herself at him, small and warm and trembling, and wraps her thin arms around his neck so tightly that he can barely breathe. “I’m scared,” she says into the curve of his shoulder.
“I know,” he says. He rubs his hand over her back as he stands up, lessening their density once again, and gives her a bright smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hold on tight, okay?”
She nods tightly and clutches at him, and he lets them drop right through the damn floor.
The fall to the ground floor takes seconds, slipping through the floors and ceilings, descending through beds and couches and scattered furniture as if all of it is simply a mirage. He lands in a crouch without tripping or falling over or anything, something he really fucking appreciates right now, and his grip on the little girl doesn’t slip an inch.
“Wow,” she says in that long drawn-out way kids do, and he beams.
“Let’s go find your mommy,” he says, and taps her on the nose with his finger, which makes her giggle.
He walks through the front of the building and out into the street to a chorus of applause, the crowd ecstatic and the police and firemen not all that surprised to see him there. They clap him on the back as he walks towards a crying dark-haired woman standing next to an ambulance. He passes the little girl off to her and the two of them clutch at one another.
“Oh, God, Becky!” She pushes the long hair away from the little girl’s face as she double-checks her for injuries. Then she looks at Jared with gratitude shining in her eyes and says, “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” he says, thankful that at least with the cowl on even if his ears are turning red it‘s not like she can see. He leans down a little and flashes the little girl a brilliant smile. “Bye, Becky.”
“Bye, mister,” she says.
The dazed giddy look doesn’t leave his face as he quickly darts through the crowd as if they weren’t even there and through the walls of a closed grocery store. A familiar engine growls loud and strong not far away and he heads straight for it, the same way he does with Jensen’s voice and scent and the welcome weight of his palm pressing against Jared’s chest right over his heart.
Jensen waits on his motorcycle in the alleyway across from the grocery store, far enough away from the fire not to be noticed but close enough to have a crystal-clear view of what’s happening. Jared can’t even see his face behind the helmet but his just being there, waiting for Jared like he always does, spreads a fierce protective warmth through Jared that he never wants to stop feeling.
Well, aren’t you the most adorable thing on the planet holding a kid?
Jared swipes at Jensen’s helmet with one hand as he approaches and Jensen ducks away, the amused smirk he has to be sporting hidden beneath the dark reflective surface of the visor. “Hey, I don’t see you running into burning buildings,” Jared says.
Jensen just shrugs. Doesn‘t mean we don‘t make a good team.
“We’re not a team,” Jared reminds him, even though Jensen‘s got a point and just thinking it makes him grin like an idiot.
Of course we’re not.
“I mean, if we were a team, it’d probably be twice as wrong as it already is for me to suck your cock when we get home.”
Jensen makes this sound in his head like he’s swallowed his tongue, which settles a strange spark of accomplishment in Jared’s body. Hell, if you can make a guy sound like he’s choking on his tongue when he’s not even using it to speak, that’s saying something.
When he finally manages to get a hold of himself Jensen adjusts the motorcycle to better speed off in an instant and says, Why do I put up with you again?
Jared just grins and walks off down the alley, letting his mind drift in quick succession through mental images of his mouth sucking dark marks all over the insides of Jensen’s thighs, his hands gently pressing Jensen’s legs apart, his tongue licking and sliding into --
The motorcycle revs behind him.
Hey! No fair thinkin’ about it.
Laughing, Jared casts a catch-me-if-you-can look over his shoulder before lowering his density and pushing off towards the sky.
Yes, it is. Don‘t hurt me. I couldn‘t resist. ;)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-06-29 11:53 am (UTC)*throws confetti* you win the internets, I swear. *dances in glee*
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Date: 2007-06-29 12:02 pm (UTC):D
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Date: 2007-06-29 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 02:10 pm (UTC)Great job.
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Date: 2007-06-29 02:18 pm (UTC)I love that Mike's the Streak (and of course he'd have the most ridiculous costume ever) and that Tom uses his powers for pranks and payback. I love Jared walking through walls and floating when he's drunk and his Dad cooking steaks with lasers from his eyes.
Jensen and Jared were fantastic in this and their powers were awesome. I love that there was no big, huge, angsty "why didn't you tell me?" blow-up when they found out and I love the running gag of elephant training.
And all the little bits, like Jon Stewart and George Clooney and Angelina Jolie as superheroes, and JDM as the freakin' dog-whisperer and Chad being just that much of a tool that his secret lair opens with a theme song... They all leave these awesome little touches that just make this even better.
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Date: 2007-06-29 03:18 pm (UTC)You combinding my disturbing obsession for J2 with my lifetime dork love of super heroes just makes me painfully happy. You continue your streak of awesome with this fic. Luv it, luv it, luv it.
This is how happy I am :)
http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f55/junobaby/IMG_0124.jpg
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Date: 2007-06-29 03:39 pm (UTC)I loved everything about this fic...
.... Including how Jensen over-compensates for his lack of 'real' super-power through his butch, leather outfit. *hehehe*
Everything else rocked, too... But brain only kept functioning this late so I could read the end of it... *nods*
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Date: 2007-06-29 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 05:03 pm (UTC)Oh my god, you...
HEEEEE
Made them superheroes!
*giggles*
And and and and Miiiiike!
*laughs*
Oh gods oh gods oh gods
*dies*
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Date: 2007-06-29 05:10 pm (UTC)This is the best thing in the world to come home to. YOU ARE AMAZING.
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Date: 2007-06-29 05:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 06:17 pm (UTC)hello, jensen in leather. black leather. nummy nummy.
and i laughed so hard at jon stewart being a superhero (cuz i LOVE jon stewart with the fiery passion of a million std's) - my stomach hurt.
and the sex was fucking hot.
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Date: 2007-06-29 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 06:50 pm (UTC)I adore the boys, and the whole concept of superhero actors, because *snort* of course that wasn't Orlando Bloom.
I love the powers, and the idea of Jensen being a dispatcher, and his little comments about thinking walking through walls would be the shit. So cute.
I just adored this through and through. <333
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Date: 2007-06-29 08:11 pm (UTC)Marvellous stuff. Well done and thanks for sharing this.
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Date: 2007-06-29 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 09:58 pm (UTC)The visual of Mike's costume makes me giggle like a 12 year old every time it was mentioned.
The idea that a whole ton of actors and actresses are superheroes just cracks me up.
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Date: 2007-06-29 09:59 pm (UTC)Mike as The Streak in freaking pink wins at EVERYTHING. I loved Tom and Jeff and Sandy was fabulous! It was all so much fun and ludicrously rich. Chad? Great Balls of Fire? Seriously? Win.
You are made of win.