Feel You on My Skin, Taste You on My Tongue
Jensen Ackles/Tom Hardy
R
2697
College AU. Shotgunning. Semi-public sex.
This is not how Jensen imagined spending his Saturday night.
For my darling
perfumaniac. ♥
“Don’t forget the jerky!” Chad hollers, not looking up from the table.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen says, closing the door behind him. “I won’t forget your goddamn jerky.” He pauses in the hallway with his back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. He doesn’t know why he let Jared drag him to one of his gaming nights, but he couldn’t refuse when Jared told him he needed to take a break, get out of the dorm. Breathe some fresh air.
Fuck that. Chad’s room smells like old Doritos; the only fresh air he got was on the walk over.
Jensen rolls his neck, trying to stretch out the tension, and pushes off of the wall. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he heads toward the elevators, past a room where the opening theme from Friends blares through the slightly cracked door and another from which the distinct smell of burnt popcorn is wafting. At least the fire alarm didn’t go off, though that would maybe have gotten Jensen out of there at least.
He pushes the down button on the elevator and waits. Smiles politely when a couple of girls leave the bathroom and duck their heads together, giggling when they see him. He thinks one of them might be in his Spanish class…
The elevator dings and Jensen steps inside, hits the button for the lobby. They’ve dimmed the lights down there already and it’s empty; everyone has better things to do on a Saturday night besides studying. Except for Jensen, apparently.
And now he’s on a snack run for his dork of a roommate and his gaming group.
This is, apparently, Jensen’s life.
It’s chillier than it was when they walked over and Jensen shivers in his t-shirt as he steps out onto the cement steps that lead up to the side-entrance. Digging his hands deeper into his pockets and tucking his arms closer to his body, Jensen steps forward. He’s stopped by movement in the corner of his eye.
There’s a guy standing there, leaning against the railing that separates the entrance’s landing from the shrubs beside it. He’s wearing a dark hoodie and loose, baggy jeans. Half in shadow, no wonder Jensen didn’t see him at first.
The guy moves, shifts his weight on the railing, and brings his hand to his mouth, sucking on the cigare—no, Jensen can smell the sweetness of the smoke in the air. He frowns, and is about to continue on when the guy lowers his hand, revealing his face in the dim yellow light from the outdoor lamps.
Jensen stares. He can’t seem to help it.
He hasn’t seen this guy around before now; he would remember if he had. Because this guy…
This guy is a fucking wet dream.
It’s his mouth, really, his thick, full lips. The rest is good, Jensen’s sure the rest is great, but he can’t take his eyes off of his mouth.
Jensen’s heard his own mouth described as perfect for cocksucking before—and he gets it, he does; he’s also pretty good at it—but that’s nothing compared to this guy’s mouth.
“Can I help you, mate?” The guy’s voice is thick and rough, smoky as the air around them. The English accent surprises Jensen.
Taking a step toward him, compelled, Jensen shakes his head. “No, I was just—”
The guy holds out his hand, the joint caught between thick fingers. “Want some?”
Jensen frowns down at it, small and white and seemingly innocuous, and the ink-stained fingers holding it. “I don’t smoke that shit,” he says. “It’ll rot your brain.”
That gets him a chuckle, low and deep, and Jensen fights against the shudder that threatens to start at the base of his spine.
“Oh really?” the guy asks, taking another hit. “Your universities must have pretty low standards if they’ve let me in, then.” He licks his lips, pink tongue moving obscenely over them, and Jensen shifts uncomfortably, dick taking an interest.
He should go, he really should. Instead, he leans against the brick wind block separating the railing from the door.
“You ever tried it?” the guy asks.
“No. I don’t smoke. Anything.”
The guy frowns at him. His eyes are pale, sharper than Jensen thinks they should be if he’s out here smoking pot. The focus is enough to make him squirm, but he digs his fingernails into his palms and holds still.
“Then what are you doing out here?”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “My roommate dragged me to game night. I got bored.” He shrugs, bricks hard against his back. “This is supposed to be a snack run.”
“Ah,” the guy says. “And you’re still here because—”
It’s a good question. Because he doesn’t want to shell out for Chad’s jerky, because he’s in no hurry to get back.
Because there’s something about this guy that Jensen finds…intriguing.
Instead of answering, Jensen shrugs again.
The corners of the guy’s mouth lift, and Jensen’s staring again.
“You know,” the guy says, pushing off of the railing and closing some of the distance between them, “you really shouldn’t knock it ‘til you try it.” He holds the joint out between them again, and Jensen stares at it, weighing the pros and cons of one little hit.
“Fine.” Jensen pulls his hands out of his pockets and reaches out, fingers brushing against fingers as he takes the joint from him. It’s small in his hand, warm from the guy’s fingers. Feeling the guy’s eyes on him, Jensen raises it to his lips, feels inexplicably jittery, like his skin is too tight. He takes a pull and—
Shit, it feels like his mouth is on fire, smoke everywhere. He chokes and coughs, doubling over, hands on his knees.
There’s a wide, warm hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Jensen soaks in the comfort of it for a moment before straightening back up.
“All right, mate?” the guy asks. He sounds amused, but Jensen’s grateful he isn’t laughing at him outright.
“Tastes like ass, dude.” Jensen’s voice comes out a little strangled, and he hands the joint back, tries to ignore the feeling that courses through him when their fingers touch again.
The guy chuckles and winks at him, stepping back a little. “You get used to it,” he says.
Jensen nods, his head feeling a little fuzzy. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the guy watching him, head tilted to the side, considering.
“I want to try something,” the guy says. “Open your mouth.”
“What?”
“Just…inhale when I exhale, yeah?”
“Um.” Jensen blinks. “Okay?”
Grinning, the guy raises the joint to his mouth. He takes a long pull and then he’s leaning in to Jensen, and Jensen can smell him, warm and spicy, beneath the pot. There’s a part of Jensen that badly wants to bury his nose in the guy’s hoodie, press his face against his neck. Jensen squeezes his hands into fists and resists.
This close Jensen can see the guy’s eyes are gray, only a little bloodshot. He’s gorgeous.
The first touch of the guy's mouth sends a shock through Jensen’s body. He gets it—inhale when I exhale—and opens his mouth, breathes in. But this was not what he was expecting, not at all. It’s too much, the smell of the pot and the smell of this…guy, the heat coming off of him, the smoke in his mouth and this guy pressed against him. The smoke curls inside him and escapes just as fast, clogging up his airways, and Jensen jerks back against the wall, choking.
When Jensen’s done blinking away his blurry eyes, he looks up to find the guy frowning at him. “You’ve really got to relax, mate.”
“What the hell!”
The guy just shrugs his shoulders, a smooth roll of muscle underneath his hoodie.
Jensen wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and then licks lips, catches the guy watching. “Fine,” he says. “Let’s try that again.”
That gets him a stare. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Jensen says. He smirks with all the bravado he doesn’t quite feel. “I’m ready for you this time.”
The guy smiles and turns his head to the side to pull the joint to his lips, pursing them around the tip as he inhales. Jensen can’t look away this time, not when he knows what’s coming, can’t even think of moving. He takes a deep breath and breathes out, shivering slightly with nerves, before the guy leans in.
Jensen stills with resolve and gives himself over to the moment. The guy’s mouth is dry and warm against his, a good fit. His tongue presses against Jensen’s bottom lip and Jensen’s mouth slides open, and then there’s smoke being pushed in and Jensen inhales and it’s nothing like it was before.
He draws the smoke from the guy’s lungs and pulls it into his own, holds it there as the guy draws back, lips shiny and pink, and Jensen holds still, holds steady until the guy nods.
Exhaling slowly, Jensen lets the smoke out into the chill night air, watches it disperse around them.
That’s when it hits him, the rush of the high slamming into him. He closes his eyes to savor it, the smell of pot and this guy, this stranger, in the air.
After a moment Jensen opens his eyes and blinks; he’s being watched. The guy’s eyes are hooded, darker than Jensen remembers them being what had to have been seconds before.
“All right this time?” the guy asks, voice gone thicker, heavier.
“Holy shit.”
“Want another?” he asks, grinning.
“Are you kidding me?” Jensen reaches for him, hands fisting in the guy’s hoodie, and tugs him closer.
Smirking, the guy tilts his head and takes another long, slow pull. Time slows down as he leans in, and Jensen counts off the heartbeats from the press of lips against his own and the first brush of smoke across his tongue. It’s slow, soft burning, and then the guy’s mouth is moving away and time speeds up, everything going fast and hard. Jensen doesn’t know if he’s moving or standing still.
There’s barely a pause between one shared breath and the next, no time for Jensen to come down before that mouth is on his again, pushing sweet smoke into his mouth, feeding him the high.
Jensen holds on as long as he can before he has to pull away and take a gulp of fresh air. Hands sliding from the guy’s chest to his sides, Jensen feels strong muscles beneath his hands before he pushes him away, needing a little space.
“Feeling good yet?”
That voice sinks through the fog gathering in Jensen’s brain and Jensen grins, feels like he can melt into the wall. Like he could take off like a bird or sink down into the ground.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the guy says, and Jensen can hear the amusement in his voice, curling around him like a blanket.
Jensen’s fingers are still pressed against the guy’s ribs. He can feel each breath he takes. “This was a great idea, man.”
“I’ve got a few others if you’re interested.” He licks his lips again and, fuck yes, of course Jensen’s interested.
Jensen tugs on his hoodie. “Yes.”
“Excellent,” the guy purrs, and then he’s leaning in again, kissing Jensen like he’s got all of the time in the world, tongue lazy as he presses deep.
Groaning, Jensen presses forward, his head feeling light, like he could float away. He slips his hands down to the guy’s hips where he hooks his fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, grounding himself. Jensen drags him closer, pulling him up against him until they’re chest to chest and hip to hip.
The guy gasps and pulls away, forearm pressed against the wall beside Jensen’s head, the joint still in hand. He’s breathless when he asks, “What’s your name?”
“Jensen.” He presses forward, feels the guys dick hardening.
“Tom.” The guy—Tom—grins and nips at Jensen’s bottom lip. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Jensen says with a small smirk, “I can tell.”
Tom growls, a noise that rumbles up from his chest, and Jensen shudders, grins until Tom’s free hand slips between them, cupping Jensen’s cock through his jeans.
“Fuck,” Jensen gasps. “Fuck. Are we—are we doing this—”
“Right here, right now?” Tom’s eyes flash and his crooked teeth glint. “Yeah, I think we are.”
And then his mouth is back on Jensen’s and his hand is gone, one thigh slipping between Jensen’s until they’re pressed tight together, no room between them at all.
Hands slipping to the small of Tom’s back, Jensen tugs at Tom’s hoodie, pulling it up until his fingers find skin, until they can slip beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear, and press against the swell of his ass.
From what he can tell, it’s a very good ass. He’d like to see it next time.
One grope against a wall and Jensen’s already thinking about next time.
Tom grinds against him, fingers of his free hand slipping into Jensen’s hair, palm warm against Jensen’s ear. Holding him steady, Tom lazy kisses turn focused, teeth nipping at Jensen’s lips, tongue soothing over the sting. He pulls back and licks at the corner of Jensen’s mouth, pushes forward and dives deeper, tongue gliding against tongue, slipping over Jensen’s molars.
Jensen hangs on and lets him, gives himself over to the feel of the wall at his back, the way his t-shirt catches on the bricks, the feel of Tom at his front, hard and hot and demanding, filling Jensen’s senses until there’s nothing but this, nothing but them.
He thrusts against Tom, hips not quite pinned, and waits for Tom to pull back, waits for Tom to retreat for breath before ducking forward and pressing his mouth to Tom’s neck, tasting the skin at his throat.
Tom groans, and Jensen feels it down to his toes.
“Jesus,” Tom breathes, head falling backward. “Fuck.”
Jensen grins against his skin, teeth scraping against Tom’s Adam’s apple, before moving upward, sucking at Tom’s jaw.
Tom’s hand—large and firm—keeps Jensen in place, holding him there as he licks and sucks. Tom’s hips stutter against his and his fingers flex against the back of Jensen’s head and then Tom’s coming with a groan, long and low and drawn out.
One hand slipping upward to tip Tom’s head up, Jensen tangles his fingers in Tom’s hair as he finds Tom’s mouth, tongue dipping inside. He tastes Tom, a hint of pot lingering underneath. I could get used to this, he thinks, cock hard and trapped between them.
Tom kisses him back, mouth gone soft and pliant, lips full and plump against Jensen’s own. He reaches a hand between them, the same one from before, and squeezes Jensen through his jeans, rubs the heel of his hand against the head of Jensen’s cock, and Jensen bites Tom’s bottom lip, hips jerking as he comes.
Jensen’s breathless and his blood is zinging and feels a little high.
He laughs against Tom—it is definitely not a giggle—and finds it reverberating back, Tom’s chuckle already familiar.
“Not exactly how I planned on spending my Saturday night,” Jensen says, voice deeper than usual.
“Me neither.” Tom’s eyes spark in the dim light, and Jensen’s not sure if it’s amusement or heat, but he likes it. “Not exactly a bad thing though, yeah?”
Jensen leans back until he feels brick at the back of his head. “No,” he says. He’s still got fingers tucked inside Tom’s jeans against bare ass. “Definitely not.”
Tom grins, wide and pleased. One of his front teeth is crooked, and Jensen shouldn’t find that endearing, not when he’s just met the guy, but fuck, he actually does. “S’ppose your friends are wondering where you got to.” He shifts, leaning back to look up at the dorm looming above them.
Jensen presses a hand against Tom’s cheek, turns him until Tom is looking at him. He leans in, sucks on Tom’s bottom lip. “Let ‘em wonder.”
Jensen Ackles/Tom Hardy
R
2697
College AU. Shotgunning. Semi-public sex.
This is not how Jensen imagined spending his Saturday night.
For my darling
“Don’t forget the jerky!” Chad hollers, not looking up from the table.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen says, closing the door behind him. “I won’t forget your goddamn jerky.” He pauses in the hallway with his back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. He doesn’t know why he let Jared drag him to one of his gaming nights, but he couldn’t refuse when Jared told him he needed to take a break, get out of the dorm. Breathe some fresh air.
Fuck that. Chad’s room smells like old Doritos; the only fresh air he got was on the walk over.
Jensen rolls his neck, trying to stretch out the tension, and pushes off of the wall. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he heads toward the elevators, past a room where the opening theme from Friends blares through the slightly cracked door and another from which the distinct smell of burnt popcorn is wafting. At least the fire alarm didn’t go off, though that would maybe have gotten Jensen out of there at least.
He pushes the down button on the elevator and waits. Smiles politely when a couple of girls leave the bathroom and duck their heads together, giggling when they see him. He thinks one of them might be in his Spanish class…
The elevator dings and Jensen steps inside, hits the button for the lobby. They’ve dimmed the lights down there already and it’s empty; everyone has better things to do on a Saturday night besides studying. Except for Jensen, apparently.
And now he’s on a snack run for his dork of a roommate and his gaming group.
This is, apparently, Jensen’s life.
It’s chillier than it was when they walked over and Jensen shivers in his t-shirt as he steps out onto the cement steps that lead up to the side-entrance. Digging his hands deeper into his pockets and tucking his arms closer to his body, Jensen steps forward. He’s stopped by movement in the corner of his eye.
There’s a guy standing there, leaning against the railing that separates the entrance’s landing from the shrubs beside it. He’s wearing a dark hoodie and loose, baggy jeans. Half in shadow, no wonder Jensen didn’t see him at first.
The guy moves, shifts his weight on the railing, and brings his hand to his mouth, sucking on the cigare—no, Jensen can smell the sweetness of the smoke in the air. He frowns, and is about to continue on when the guy lowers his hand, revealing his face in the dim yellow light from the outdoor lamps.
Jensen stares. He can’t seem to help it.
He hasn’t seen this guy around before now; he would remember if he had. Because this guy…
This guy is a fucking wet dream.
It’s his mouth, really, his thick, full lips. The rest is good, Jensen’s sure the rest is great, but he can’t take his eyes off of his mouth.
Jensen’s heard his own mouth described as perfect for cocksucking before—and he gets it, he does; he’s also pretty good at it—but that’s nothing compared to this guy’s mouth.
“Can I help you, mate?” The guy’s voice is thick and rough, smoky as the air around them. The English accent surprises Jensen.
Taking a step toward him, compelled, Jensen shakes his head. “No, I was just—”
The guy holds out his hand, the joint caught between thick fingers. “Want some?”
Jensen frowns down at it, small and white and seemingly innocuous, and the ink-stained fingers holding it. “I don’t smoke that shit,” he says. “It’ll rot your brain.”
That gets him a chuckle, low and deep, and Jensen fights against the shudder that threatens to start at the base of his spine.
“Oh really?” the guy asks, taking another hit. “Your universities must have pretty low standards if they’ve let me in, then.” He licks his lips, pink tongue moving obscenely over them, and Jensen shifts uncomfortably, dick taking an interest.
He should go, he really should. Instead, he leans against the brick wind block separating the railing from the door.
“You ever tried it?” the guy asks.
“No. I don’t smoke. Anything.”
The guy frowns at him. His eyes are pale, sharper than Jensen thinks they should be if he’s out here smoking pot. The focus is enough to make him squirm, but he digs his fingernails into his palms and holds still.
“Then what are you doing out here?”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “My roommate dragged me to game night. I got bored.” He shrugs, bricks hard against his back. “This is supposed to be a snack run.”
“Ah,” the guy says. “And you’re still here because—”
It’s a good question. Because he doesn’t want to shell out for Chad’s jerky, because he’s in no hurry to get back.
Because there’s something about this guy that Jensen finds…intriguing.
Instead of answering, Jensen shrugs again.
The corners of the guy’s mouth lift, and Jensen’s staring again.
“You know,” the guy says, pushing off of the railing and closing some of the distance between them, “you really shouldn’t knock it ‘til you try it.” He holds the joint out between them again, and Jensen stares at it, weighing the pros and cons of one little hit.
“Fine.” Jensen pulls his hands out of his pockets and reaches out, fingers brushing against fingers as he takes the joint from him. It’s small in his hand, warm from the guy’s fingers. Feeling the guy’s eyes on him, Jensen raises it to his lips, feels inexplicably jittery, like his skin is too tight. He takes a pull and—
Shit, it feels like his mouth is on fire, smoke everywhere. He chokes and coughs, doubling over, hands on his knees.
There’s a wide, warm hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Jensen soaks in the comfort of it for a moment before straightening back up.
“All right, mate?” the guy asks. He sounds amused, but Jensen’s grateful he isn’t laughing at him outright.
“Tastes like ass, dude.” Jensen’s voice comes out a little strangled, and he hands the joint back, tries to ignore the feeling that courses through him when their fingers touch again.
The guy chuckles and winks at him, stepping back a little. “You get used to it,” he says.
Jensen nods, his head feeling a little fuzzy. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the guy watching him, head tilted to the side, considering.
“I want to try something,” the guy says. “Open your mouth.”
“What?”
“Just…inhale when I exhale, yeah?”
“Um.” Jensen blinks. “Okay?”
Grinning, the guy raises the joint to his mouth. He takes a long pull and then he’s leaning in to Jensen, and Jensen can smell him, warm and spicy, beneath the pot. There’s a part of Jensen that badly wants to bury his nose in the guy’s hoodie, press his face against his neck. Jensen squeezes his hands into fists and resists.
This close Jensen can see the guy’s eyes are gray, only a little bloodshot. He’s gorgeous.
The first touch of the guy's mouth sends a shock through Jensen’s body. He gets it—inhale when I exhale—and opens his mouth, breathes in. But this was not what he was expecting, not at all. It’s too much, the smell of the pot and the smell of this…guy, the heat coming off of him, the smoke in his mouth and this guy pressed against him. The smoke curls inside him and escapes just as fast, clogging up his airways, and Jensen jerks back against the wall, choking.
When Jensen’s done blinking away his blurry eyes, he looks up to find the guy frowning at him. “You’ve really got to relax, mate.”
“What the hell!”
The guy just shrugs his shoulders, a smooth roll of muscle underneath his hoodie.
Jensen wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and then licks lips, catches the guy watching. “Fine,” he says. “Let’s try that again.”
That gets him a stare. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Jensen says. He smirks with all the bravado he doesn’t quite feel. “I’m ready for you this time.”
The guy smiles and turns his head to the side to pull the joint to his lips, pursing them around the tip as he inhales. Jensen can’t look away this time, not when he knows what’s coming, can’t even think of moving. He takes a deep breath and breathes out, shivering slightly with nerves, before the guy leans in.
Jensen stills with resolve and gives himself over to the moment. The guy’s mouth is dry and warm against his, a good fit. His tongue presses against Jensen’s bottom lip and Jensen’s mouth slides open, and then there’s smoke being pushed in and Jensen inhales and it’s nothing like it was before.
He draws the smoke from the guy’s lungs and pulls it into his own, holds it there as the guy draws back, lips shiny and pink, and Jensen holds still, holds steady until the guy nods.
Exhaling slowly, Jensen lets the smoke out into the chill night air, watches it disperse around them.
That’s when it hits him, the rush of the high slamming into him. He closes his eyes to savor it, the smell of pot and this guy, this stranger, in the air.
After a moment Jensen opens his eyes and blinks; he’s being watched. The guy’s eyes are hooded, darker than Jensen remembers them being what had to have been seconds before.
“All right this time?” the guy asks, voice gone thicker, heavier.
“Holy shit.”
“Want another?” he asks, grinning.
“Are you kidding me?” Jensen reaches for him, hands fisting in the guy’s hoodie, and tugs him closer.
Smirking, the guy tilts his head and takes another long, slow pull. Time slows down as he leans in, and Jensen counts off the heartbeats from the press of lips against his own and the first brush of smoke across his tongue. It’s slow, soft burning, and then the guy’s mouth is moving away and time speeds up, everything going fast and hard. Jensen doesn’t know if he’s moving or standing still.
There’s barely a pause between one shared breath and the next, no time for Jensen to come down before that mouth is on his again, pushing sweet smoke into his mouth, feeding him the high.
Jensen holds on as long as he can before he has to pull away and take a gulp of fresh air. Hands sliding from the guy’s chest to his sides, Jensen feels strong muscles beneath his hands before he pushes him away, needing a little space.
“Feeling good yet?”
That voice sinks through the fog gathering in Jensen’s brain and Jensen grins, feels like he can melt into the wall. Like he could take off like a bird or sink down into the ground.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the guy says, and Jensen can hear the amusement in his voice, curling around him like a blanket.
Jensen’s fingers are still pressed against the guy’s ribs. He can feel each breath he takes. “This was a great idea, man.”
“I’ve got a few others if you’re interested.” He licks his lips again and, fuck yes, of course Jensen’s interested.
Jensen tugs on his hoodie. “Yes.”
“Excellent,” the guy purrs, and then he’s leaning in again, kissing Jensen like he’s got all of the time in the world, tongue lazy as he presses deep.
Groaning, Jensen presses forward, his head feeling light, like he could float away. He slips his hands down to the guy’s hips where he hooks his fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, grounding himself. Jensen drags him closer, pulling him up against him until they’re chest to chest and hip to hip.
The guy gasps and pulls away, forearm pressed against the wall beside Jensen’s head, the joint still in hand. He’s breathless when he asks, “What’s your name?”
“Jensen.” He presses forward, feels the guys dick hardening.
“Tom.” The guy—Tom—grins and nips at Jensen’s bottom lip. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Jensen says with a small smirk, “I can tell.”
Tom growls, a noise that rumbles up from his chest, and Jensen shudders, grins until Tom’s free hand slips between them, cupping Jensen’s cock through his jeans.
“Fuck,” Jensen gasps. “Fuck. Are we—are we doing this—”
“Right here, right now?” Tom’s eyes flash and his crooked teeth glint. “Yeah, I think we are.”
And then his mouth is back on Jensen’s and his hand is gone, one thigh slipping between Jensen’s until they’re pressed tight together, no room between them at all.
Hands slipping to the small of Tom’s back, Jensen tugs at Tom’s hoodie, pulling it up until his fingers find skin, until they can slip beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear, and press against the swell of his ass.
From what he can tell, it’s a very good ass. He’d like to see it next time.
One grope against a wall and Jensen’s already thinking about next time.
Tom grinds against him, fingers of his free hand slipping into Jensen’s hair, palm warm against Jensen’s ear. Holding him steady, Tom lazy kisses turn focused, teeth nipping at Jensen’s lips, tongue soothing over the sting. He pulls back and licks at the corner of Jensen’s mouth, pushes forward and dives deeper, tongue gliding against tongue, slipping over Jensen’s molars.
Jensen hangs on and lets him, gives himself over to the feel of the wall at his back, the way his t-shirt catches on the bricks, the feel of Tom at his front, hard and hot and demanding, filling Jensen’s senses until there’s nothing but this, nothing but them.
He thrusts against Tom, hips not quite pinned, and waits for Tom to pull back, waits for Tom to retreat for breath before ducking forward and pressing his mouth to Tom’s neck, tasting the skin at his throat.
Tom groans, and Jensen feels it down to his toes.
“Jesus,” Tom breathes, head falling backward. “Fuck.”
Jensen grins against his skin, teeth scraping against Tom’s Adam’s apple, before moving upward, sucking at Tom’s jaw.
Tom’s hand—large and firm—keeps Jensen in place, holding him there as he licks and sucks. Tom’s hips stutter against his and his fingers flex against the back of Jensen’s head and then Tom’s coming with a groan, long and low and drawn out.
One hand slipping upward to tip Tom’s head up, Jensen tangles his fingers in Tom’s hair as he finds Tom’s mouth, tongue dipping inside. He tastes Tom, a hint of pot lingering underneath. I could get used to this, he thinks, cock hard and trapped between them.
Tom kisses him back, mouth gone soft and pliant, lips full and plump against Jensen’s own. He reaches a hand between them, the same one from before, and squeezes Jensen through his jeans, rubs the heel of his hand against the head of Jensen’s cock, and Jensen bites Tom’s bottom lip, hips jerking as he comes.
Jensen’s breathless and his blood is zinging and feels a little high.
He laughs against Tom—it is definitely not a giggle—and finds it reverberating back, Tom’s chuckle already familiar.
“Not exactly how I planned on spending my Saturday night,” Jensen says, voice deeper than usual.
“Me neither.” Tom’s eyes spark in the dim light, and Jensen’s not sure if it’s amusement or heat, but he likes it. “Not exactly a bad thing though, yeah?”
Jensen leans back until he feels brick at the back of his head. “No,” he says. He’s still got fingers tucked inside Tom’s jeans against bare ass. “Definitely not.”
Tom grins, wide and pleased. One of his front teeth is crooked, and Jensen shouldn’t find that endearing, not when he’s just met the guy, but fuck, he actually does. “S’ppose your friends are wondering where you got to.” He shifts, leaning back to look up at the dorm looming above them.
Jensen presses a hand against Tom’s cheek, turns him until Tom is looking at him. He leans in, sucks on Tom’s bottom lip. “Let ‘em wonder.”
ILU SO MUCH
Date: 2011-01-25 04:19 am (UTC)SHOT-GUNNING. FROTTAGE. LIPS. TOM. JENSEN.
I'll be in my bunk FOREVER!!!!
Re: ILU SO MUCH
Date: 2011-01-29 02:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-25 04:57 am (UTC)Like, really really hot.
Like Jensen, I've never seen the appeal of smoking (cigarettes or anything else), but oh, you make this work.
Yeah...I'll be *gestures vaguely* over there...somewhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-29 02:10 am (UTC)Thank you! <3
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-25 02:10 pm (UTC)*whimper*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-29 02:13 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked it.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-25 06:25 pm (UTC)And who needs game night when you can have that? Hot!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-29 02:15 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked it. Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 11:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:37 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 05:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-28 01:31 pm (UTC)This was really freaking hot. Well done.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-03 02:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-30 09:49 pm (UTC)Maybe you could, I don't know, write the next time...
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-04 02:56 pm (UTC)Maybe you could, I don't know, write the next time...
I have to admit I have thought a little bit about it. Because, yes, pretty.
I'm so happy you enjoyed it!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-04 11:42 pm (UTC)I'm still kind of stuck on the thought of those lips and those lips and flailing around for my words but yeah. Totally hot. Thank you. Please, um, keep going? :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-10 01:22 am (UTC)...the thought of those lips and those lips...
I know, right?? Guh.
I'm so happy you enjoyed it! Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-05 12:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-10 01:23 am (UTC)I'm so happy you liked it! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-06 01:29 am (UTC)Thank you so much for writing two of my favourite actors together. This could not have been better (except if there was a sequel?) If you were sitting next to me right now I would seriously give you a hug - that's how excited I am about this fic.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-10 01:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-10 01:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-22 02:42 pm (UTC)....I'm not dreaming, right? I just read JENSEN ACKLES/TOM HARDY RPF AU, RIGHT? *PINCHES SELF*
*rereads for the millionth time*
...I'm sorry, my mind is still stuck on MIND-BLOWINGLY HOT AND INCREDIBLY PERFECT, LET ME GET BACK AT YOU WITH COHERENCY AND BRAIN FUNCTION AFTER THE BEEP. SORRY.
>.<;
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-29 05:19 am (UTC)Jensen/Tom is an RPF pairing that I find myself interested in more and more. I'm so, so happy that you liked it! Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-29 05:08 pm (UTC)*...is seriously about to squee her house down if yes*
*...SERIOUSLY!*
*pokes cautiously to see if more fic will fall out*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-10 06:23 pm (UTC)::fans self::
Yeah, think I'll need to read it again.;D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-31 08:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-02 12:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-24 11:52 pm (UTC)I'm so happy that you liked it. Thank you!