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***
The thing was, Jared was made of steel. Or maybe rubber.
Nothing ever got Jared down. Nothing ever kept his smile hidden for long; he always bounced back. Criticism of his acting, his looks, the show, anything, was just shrugged off. Jared was perfectly comfortable with who he was, and what he was doing, and if someone else wasn’t, then, whatever. Each to their own. No hard feelings.
Jensen, however, died a thousand deaths under any criticism, no matter how light or completely fucking unwarranted it might be.
Jared was really, really much better equipped for this life than Jensen. Jensen had never learned to walk the line between acting like an idiot in an adorable kind of way, and acting like an idiot in a douchebaggy kind of way, and more or less feared them both, anyway. So Jensen preferred to remain professional and responsible in the public eye – which was hard to do when there was 6 foot 5 of goofball happily humping you in front of the camera.
As well as dealing more effectively with the attention attracted by their chosen profession, Jared also dealt better with the emotional issues of the job.
Jared could be deep in Sam’s emo pain – tears streaming down his face – and then crack instantly up, grinning blindingly, if someone dropped a prop, or farted, or whatever. Jensen, however, found it considerably more difficult to shake off Dean at the end of the day; could feel Dean’s angst in a crawling itch over his skin on bad days. Happily, Jared was good at dealing with that, too.
If a blowjob from Jared Padalecki wasn’t a cure for what ailed ya, then Jensen didn’t know what would be.
Jared was resilient, and more than that, just generally goddamned happy. Which some people mistook for stupid, which was a sad reflection on society in Jensen’s opinion. So, no, not stupid, just fucking invulnerable.
And physically, honestly, the guy looked like tanks would just fucking glance off him, the veritable essence of Lone Star health. They bred ‘em big and healthy in Texas, as Jensen knew himself, but Jared was one corn-fed motherfucker, making the best of both his momma’s cooking and his blessed genetics.
Jared was, evidently, healthy enough to have no hangover at 8 in the morning when Jensen knew for a goddamned fact that Jared had drunk at least twice as much beer as he had, and Jensen was currently entertaining a band of gorillas in hobnailed boots in his cranium.
“C’mon, man,” Jared said, far too loudly, bouncing on the bed. It had been mistake to let Jared talk him into staying the night. A big mistake. “You agreed to go running with me this morning.”
At the time, Jared had been riding Jensen so fucking slow – sitting on Jensen’s hips, holding him still and helpless, as he’d slid up and down Jensen’s dick in a fair approximation of the cruellest torture ever devised, that Jensen had thought he was gonna die and was pretty sure he’d have promised to do that run naked if Jared would just fucking move already.
“Sure,” he croaked, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “I’ll give you a head start. Off you go.”
Jared laughed and ran a hand down Jensen’s back. “Come on. I’ve made breakfast. Pancakes. We can just have them, and then fit in a run before we’ve got to head off to the airport to pick up my parents.”
Christ. Jensen had forgotten that.
“Look,” Jensen said, forcing his head up and opening a bleary eye to look at Jared. “I really don’t think your folks have come to see me.” He tried a smile, which Jared half returned. “I’ll just head on home, alright? See you Monday.” Jensen started to push himself out of bed.
Jared’s hand pushed him down again, and Jensen wasn’t so in love with the idea of getting up that he put up any resistance, and he sprawled back.
“Stay there, man” Jared said. “You’ll strain something. I guess there’s no need to rush now.” Jared’s warm hand left Jensen’s back, and Jensen felt cold as his weight left the bed. “Sleep it off, Jen. Leave whenever you want to, and I’ll see you later.”
Grateful for Jared’s good humor as always, Jensen snuggled back down into the bed, slipping almost instantly to sleep.
He must have dreamt Jared’s lips brushing his forehead, because. You know. They weren’t like that.
***
Jared made awesome pancakes, and they’d have been better fresh rather than reheated, and probably with Jared to sit with, trading off sections of the paper, but Jared had breakfasted, run, showered and left by the time consciousness had returned to Jensen.
Jensen had slept so long he was barely able to get the pancakes down, because he needed to leave before Jared arrived back with Mr and Mrs Padalecki. That didn’t bear thinking about. Jensen in Jared’s kitchen, only one bed slept in and a very indiscrete hickey sucked high and completely undisguisable on Jensen’s neck.
Jared just never fucking thought about that kind of thing. Jensen had to look out for both of them.
***
“What the fuck, man?” Jensen hissed, pushing Jared away. They were right in the middle of the fucking mall, for God’s sake.
“What?” Jared looked confused.
Jensen glared at him because, really. He put up with a lot of PDAs from Jared – far more than he was really comfortable with, frankly – but inside the pants? That was a step over playful affection and into a brush with public indecency laws.
“Jared,” he said sternly. “It’s not polite to put your hands in other people’s pants uninvited.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “You liked it fine last night.”
Which was undeniably true. But.
“Not in public Jared. What’s wrong with you?”
“No one cares, Jensen. In fact,” Jared grinned, “if the internet is to be believed a lot of people are all for it.”
“We’re in a mall, Jared. No one’s going to believe this is just for show if someone snaps us on their cell phone.”
“So?”
Jensen ground his teeth. “So do you want to be ‘that gay actor’? How do you think that’ll go down with casting agents in the future? Do you want the next girl you hit on thinking she’s your beard? Do you want your Mom to read about it?”
Jared looked unusually serious. “I wouldn’t mind.” He seemed to be thinking of reaching out to Jensen, but aborted the gesture, clearly thinking better of it. “It’d be worth it.”
“Jared, people aren’t tolerant, and, thanks to the internet and 24 hour TV, they never forget. Don’t screw up your life for a buddy fuck.”
Jensen ran a hand irritably over his hair. Jared needed protecting from himself. Jared was so fucking exuberantly affectionate, with everyone – Christ, Jensen remembered him snogging Rosenbaum like Rhett freakin’ Butler one night – and was so much worse since they’d started fucking. He was going to land them both in a hell of a lot of trouble.
“Look,” he continued, not looking at Jared. “It’s probably best if we cool it off.”
Jared made a noise part amusement, part shock, mostly disbelief. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“No Jared,” Jensen said calmly, but still not looking at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, because we’ve never been dating, you idiot. I’m just saying we should stop fucking around.”
“Fucking around?”
“Yeah,” Jensen took a deep breath. “Let’s just get back, shall we?”
Jared made a strangled noise. Jensen looked up finally, expecting Jared’s usual understanding, but Jared was gasping instead, apparently struggling for breath.
“Jared!” Jensen said, concerned. “What the fuck?”
Jared was clutching at his chest, his breathing becoming ever more labored.
“Jesus, Jared,” Jensen said, grasping his arms, as Jared staggered down onto a nearby bench. “What’s wrong?”
Jared’s wheezing had attracted attention, a woman came over.
“Are you alright?” she asked, laying a hand on Jared’s shoulder.
“I don’t know!” Jensen sounded shrill. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Do you have your inhaler with you?” she asked Jared.
“Huh?” Jensen asked, confused.
Jared was shaking his head. His face was flushed bright red, his hands at his throat.
The woman looked disapproving, and disturbingly like Jensen’s own mother when Jensen had been naughty as a child, but her voice was steady and calm. “You’d better phone 911, dear,” she told Jensen. “Just to be on the safe side. Now…” she cocked an eyebrow at Jensen, and he realized she was waiting for Jared’s name, which he supplied even as he fumbled for his cell. “…Jared. You just try and breathe deeply, dear.”
Jensen snapped his phone shut after phoning the paramedics. “Should he lie down?” he asked the lady, anxiously wringing his hands.
“No, with an asthma attack, he should sit and loosen his clothes.” She glanced over Jared’s loose shirt, jeans and flip flops and clearly felt no action needed to be taken. She rubbed Jared’s back, reassuringly, as Jared’s breath seemed to finally begin evening out. “That’s good. Just take it easy.”
“Jensen,” Jared wheezed. “Sorry… I’m sorry.”
“Shh!” Jensen said, in time with the woman, sitting beside Jared on the bench, grasping his hand. “Shut up, idiot.” That was not mirrored by the woman.
“You shouldn’t let him leave without his inhaler,” the woman said, reprovingly.
“I didn’t know!” Jensen said. “I didn’t know he had asthma.” Look at him, he thought. Asthma?
“Not.. for..years.”
“Shh!” Both Jensen and the woman said.
“Do you know what triggered it?” she asked.
“Ah,” Jensen flushed. “Um…”
“Having a fight?” she asked, understandingly. “Stress can be an unpredictable trigger.”
“He’s never stressed,” Jensen said, and he realized he was rubbing Jared’s back, but he didn’t take his hand away.
“S’why… no attacks.” Jared wheezed.
“Seriously, man, SHUT UP.”
***
“I cannot believe what a fucking idiot you are,” Jensen said, in the car as he drove them home from the ER. Jensen was furious. Now. Earlier he’d been so fucking frightened. The paramedics had come and put Jared on a stretcher where, amazingly, he’d somehow managed to look small and vulnerable. Jared, vulnerable. Unbelievable! Jensen had followed to the ER and it had been a fucking nightmare of tests, but Jared was breathing again perfectly well now, and fear was giving way to a much more comfortable anger.
“Sorry.” Jared said, sounding small.
“How can you not carry your inhaler? What the fuck kind of brainless idiot are you?”
“I haven’t had an attack for years, Jensen. And my inhaler’s so weak it’s hardly worth it.”
“It would have been fucking worth it today,” Jensen snapped. “I can’t believe you never told me this.”
“Why?” Jared said, and he sounded bitter, which was, well, just totally wrong. “It’s not like we’re doing anything other than fucking about.”
Jensen’s righteous anger deflated. Christ. He dragged his hand over his hair. “Look. Sorry I said that. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Christ, upset Jared? Who knew such a thing was possible? Jared was Teflon man, for Chrissake, and, Jesus, why didn’t he just run over some freaking puppies while he was at it? “I just meant, you know. It’s not like this is forever, man, and we should think about the future, that’s all.”
“It’s not?” Jared asked, softly, and Jensen’s heart beat solidly in his chest. He struggled for breath himself. Was asthma catching? He didn’t think so, but what the fuck did he know? About anything, apparently.
“I mean. Christ.” Jensen struggled with this shit, because he was a guy, and Jared was a guy, and there really needed to be a girl here somewhere to get someone to talk about their feelings without a trip to the fucking Emergency Room, because girls were generally ten times better at this shit than guys. “Is that what you thought?”
“Nothing’s for sure,” Jared said, shrugging in a not very convincing approximation of casual, “but yeah. I just figured we never talked about it, because you’re kind of an idiot about this shit.”
“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot about your health. So there.” Jensen replied, maturely.
“Jensen. Are you a just a crazy closet case with the emotional maturity of an amoeba who can’t say, ‘Jared, I like you’, or are you just killing time fucking around with me waiting for the right girl? Because, man, it’s been a hell of a day, and really it’s time to put up or shut up.”
Jensen frowned. “Are those my only two options?”
“Seriously, man. If you need Chris or Steve to write me a note telling me you like me then do that, or let’s just move on.”
Jensen paused for another moment. “I’m not a closet case,” he said. “Just ‘cause I don’t want to talk about my big gay love with a crazed fangirl, or E!, or your parents, doesn’t mean I don’t… You know…” Jared raised an eyebrow, not giving Jensen the easy out… “feel it.”
Jared was grinning now. “Could you manage to talk about it with me?”
“Christ,” Jensen said, “could you be anymore Sam Winchester?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
Jensen was silent. “Fucking scared me, man,” he said, finally. “Don’t fucking know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t have to do without me, man. Not for option A or option B, it’s just how you have me that’s the question. Friends or…” Jared shrugged, “…lovers. But I’m not fucking around anymore. Life’s too short.”
Jensen closed his eyes briefly and the picture of Jared, pale and vulnerable-looking on the stretcher, came back to him.
“Yeah it is. So, you know, maybe forever with you won’t be too bad. Not like an eternity in hell or anything.”
“You’re so romantic.”
“Also? Can we come up with something better than ‘lovers’? That’s pretty lame.”
“Partners?”
“We’re not opening a restaurant together.”
“How about boyfriends?”
“Christ.”
***
“Do you need anything?” Jensen fussed with the quilt covering Jared. “Water? Some tea maybe?”
“Tea?” Jared looked amused from the bed where Jensen had insisted he go when they arrived back from the hospital, with Jared’s amused cooperation. Better safe than sorry.
“I don’t know,” Jensen flushed, slightly. He considered further. “Gummi bears?”
“I’m fine Jensen. It was my only attack for 5 years. I’m fine.”
“You don’t know that,” Jensen said. “You were fine the day before. It could be triggered off again at any moment.”
“Are you going to break up with me again?” Jared asked, still amused.
“No,” Jensen said, feeling guilty.
“Are you going to be my special someone forever and ever?” Jared asked, batting his eyelashes.
“Fuck off,” Jensen said.
“Hey! You said you were my one true love! No backsies!” Jared grinned.
“I only said that to make you feel better.”
“Oh, that hurts.”
Jensen looked up instantly, only to see Jared clutching his chest melodramatically.
“Wanna kiss it better?” Jared asked, leering extravagantly.
Jared trailed his fingers down his chest, slipping open the buttons of his pyjama top. Jensen’s mouth went dry.
“I could use a coffee,” he said, looking away. “You should have something, too. Seriously, man. But not with caffeine. Like, cocoa or something.”
“Cocoa?”
“Yeah,” Jensen said, getting up to go to the kitchen. “You want some cookies with that? Your Mom left you a boatload when she visited.”
“Was my offer of sex too subtle for you, Ackles?”
“No! I, uh, no, I’m just, you know, not in the mood.”
Jared sighed, and started to get out of bed.
“No, man,” Jensen said, hurrying over to push Jared gently back onto the bed. “You need your rest.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Jensen. Really. You heard the Doctor say so. I only got into bed because I figured you’d be joining me.”
Jared took hold of Jensen’s hand and kissed the palm. “Sure you won’t change your mind?” He licked at Jensen’s palm, softly, wetly, and Jensen’s cock twitched in his jeans.
Jensen pulled his hand away. “No, man. I need that coffee.”
“You’d rather drink coffee than fuck me? I want you to fuck me hard and fast, until we’re all fucked out, and, then, when we’ve recovered, lick my thighs open and fuck me again slow and sweet. And you’d rather drink coffee?”
Jensen cleared his throat. “Um,” he licked dry lips. “It’s really good coffee?”
Jared’s lips quirked in amusement, but his eyes were serious. “So. It’s either that you were so freaked out when I had that attack that you don’t find me attractive anymore…” Jared glanced significantly at Jensen’s crotch, and Jensen shifted slightly, unable to deny the evidence which was right there, “…or you think fucking me’s going to cause another attack.”
“No!” Jensen said defensively. “I’m just, uh, really tired, it’s been a hell of a day, and I just…” Jared reached down and squeezed his crotch, “…really want that coffee.” He finished the sentence in a higher register than he’d started in.
Jared laughed softly, rubbing at Jensen’s crotch. “Think you’re good enough to cause an asthma attack, Jensen?”
“No,” Jensen denied again. He crouched down by the bed. “It’s just. Can sex cause an attack?”
Jared chuckled, softly. “How many times have we had sex?”
“Lots?”
“Yes. Lots. Sex isn’t one of my triggers, Jensen.”
“Yeah, well,” Jensen says, starting to feel sheepish. “You’ve shopped lots before, too, and you had an attack in the mall.”
Jared didn’t point out that wasn’t exactly what had caused it, but instead bent over and licked at Jensen’s neck. Jensen’s cock went instantly from half mast to full salute.
Jared reminded Jensen he was that much bigger and stronger and still pretty goddamn healthy, by pulling him up onto the bed and on top of him.
“You know, in most cases, exercise is good for strengthening the body, including the lungs. You don’t want me to get sickly, do you?” Jared asked, pushing his hips up towards Jensen.
“Fuck me, Jensen,” Jared whispered against his neck. “Show me you still want me.”
It would take a stronger man than Jensen to resist, and he twisted to meet Jared’s lips, sucking softly at them.
“Want you so bad, Jared,” Jensen said, against Jared’s throat as he kissed down it. “Fucking always want you so bad.”
Jensen settled over Jared, sucking softly at his lips.
He rubbed his fingers over Jared’s chest, opening the pyjama jacket completely. Smooth and strong and muscled, but vulnerable, so fucking unexpectedly vulnerable, underneath that shell of strength. Jensen ran a trail of soft kisses over Jared’s chest before resting his head on Jared’s chest – listening to his heartbeat, feeling the comforting, smooth rise and fall of his breathing.
Jared rubbed his hand through Jensen’s hair, strong and reassuring. Comforting.
Jensen moved down Jared’s belly, finally, before gently pulling off his pyjama pants.
Jared’s hard cock sprung free, big and red and a very undeniable proof of life. Jensen grinned, and kissed the tip softly; mouthing gently around the head.
“I’m not going to break you know, man,” Jared said.
“Shut up,” Jensen replied, between licks.
Jared threw his head back and groaned. “I guess hard and fast is out, right?”
Jensen dragged his mouth deliberately slowly over the hot flesh in reply, and Jared groaned again.
Jensen pushed Jared’s legs up, grabbing a pillow to rest under his hips. “This OK?” He asked, settling back down between Jared’s splayed legs. “That comfortable?”
“Yes Jensen,” Jared said, and Jensen didn’t miss, just chose to loftily ignore, the patronising tone. After all, he had better things to do.
He mouthed gently up Jared’s soft inner thighs, until he reached his goal, and then licked over Jared’s asshole, grinning into the flesh when Jared squirmed. He pushed in gently and fucked Jared with his tongue, holding down Jared’s hips, stopping when Jared’s breath hitched, checking, then starting again.
“I swear, Ackles, you had better come through soon, or fuck asthma, I’ll die of freaking blue balls.”
Relenting, Jensen moved away, taking Jared’s cock into his mouth and sucking hard. Jared’s cock was huge – the biggest Jensen had ever sucked – and Jensen fucking loved sucking it. The taste of Jared, the feel of him, so intimate, thrusting hard and hot over his tongue, was something Jensen would never tire of.
Jared groaned, jerking upwards. Jensen kept his eyes glued to Jared, watching him pant before his eyes shot open and he was coming hard in Jensen’s mouth.
Jensen swallowed and then licked gently at the softening flesh.
Jared sprawled on the bed, breathing heavily, but not wheezing, or labored, and Jensen’s cock jerked at the sight of him, so fucking beautiful.
Jensen was still fully clothed, which was something that really ought to be rectified immediately. He pulled off his t-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them jerkily, awkwardly down his thighs along with his boxers, freeing his dick at last.
He spat hastily on his hand and rubbed it over his cock, eyes glued to Jared as he jerked himself off.
Jared opened his eyes. “No way man,” he said accusingly, struggling up. “Fuck me.”
“I’m too close,” Jensen said, closing his eyes, jerking harder. Then he yelped as a large hand closed too firmly around his cock. Jared, having moved far too quickly for someone post-orgasm, had grabbed his cock around the base.
“You fuck me right now, or I swear I won’t let you anywhere near me again for a fucking month.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Jensen said, because honesty was the best policy when someone had hold of your dick.
“You won’t.” Jared looked fondly exasperated.
Jared pulled Jensen’s pants and boxers right off, and then settled back, grabbing lube from the bedside cabinet and pulling a not-really-resisting Jensen back down with him.
Jensen palmed the lube, propping himself up. “You’ll tell me if it hurts? If there’s, you know, any pain, any shortness of breath?”
“Jensen,” Jared said patiently, “there’s going to be shortness of breath. I’m getting fucked.”
Jensen’s face twisted. “Take this seriously, man. Really.”
Jared grinned, and, Christ, who could possibly imagine there was any vulnerability at all under that wide, happy, smile.
“I’m very serious about getting fucked.” Jensen punched him, not-too-gently on the arm. “And I swear,” Jared made a boy scout salute, “I’ll tell you if there’s anything wrong.”
Jared took the lube out of Jensen’s hand, flipped the lid, and slicked up Jensen’s cock. Jensen groaned, as he came to full hardness again.
He laid Jared down on his back. He needed to see Jared’s face, because it might be easier on his belly, but Jensen knew the danger was mostly in his own head, and it would be better if he could see Jared’s reactions. Watch the pleasure on his face.
Jensen fucked him slow and sweet and steady, carefully, and Jared rewarded him with soft little gasps, and encouragements… which turned into pointed demands when Jensen wouldn’t hurry and just kept fucking him steady and slow.
Until Jared just clenched hard around him, fucking himself deliberately onto Jensen.
“Fuck,” Jensen gasped, “no fair. Cheating…” and his hips snapped forward involuntarily and he came hard in Jared’s ass.
He fell down, gasping for breath.
Jared laughed and petted him. “You need my inhaler?”
“Fuck off,” Jensen said, kissing him, until they both were breathless.
***
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