Hungry (For Your Love) 4/4

[rose_the_hat]

Title: Hungry (For Your Love)
Author: rose_the_hat
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Words: 23,000-ish
Summary: In which newlyweds Jensen and Jared learn a little more about each other and have dirty sex.
Notes: Forth installment in my October Rust ‘Verse.
I apparently cannot write a short one-shot with these guys to save my life.
This takes place immediately after White Wedding. Away from everything and everyone, the boys get a
chance to let their guard allllll the way down. I hope you enjoy this side of them.
Much appreciation to jdl71 for the beta, helpful suggestions and…the pretty banner! ♥
Title taken from the Winger song.












On the sixth day, as he is toweling off from his morning shower his skin starts to peel. It feels like the heavens part and angels begin to sing.

“Jare!” He calls from the bathroom, positively giddy. He gently rubs at his skin, it doesn’t hurt! “I’m peeling!” Curious by Jared’s lack of response, Jensen wraps a towel around his hips and heads into the kitchen. Jared’s not there, but Jensen hears his low voice drifting in through the patio door. Jensen’s brows draw together and he cocks his head, listening.

“What we talked about. Yeah. Today.” Jared pauses. “Not a problem. Thanks.” Jared pockets his phone and slips back into the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Jensen asks.

“No one.” His eyes gleam with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” Jensen says, giving Jared a serious side-eye. “Anyway. I’m peeling! Touch me!” He grabs Jared’s hands and places them on his chest.

“Mmmm,” Jared rumbles, hands moving gently up and down Jensen’s chest. Jensen goes rock hard so fast he thinks he might pass out from the rush of blood. “Yeah, baby.” He swoops down and gives Jensen a deep and thorough tongue-kiss.

“So,” Jared whispers against his mouth as Jensen strains against him, wanting more, wanting everything that has been denied him this week. “You want the good news or bad news?”

Jensen pulls back, dazed and annoyed. Why wasn’t Jared fucking him on the breakfast bar already? Hasn’t he suffered enough? “Huh?”

“Good news first then,” Jared says, pulling back. “Good news is that Showgirls is on Netflix and we are going to watch it. The bad news is I’m not fucking you until sometime tonight.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Wha—huh? The hell do you mean you’re not fucking me until tonight? Jared!” Okay, he realizes he probably sounds like a spoiled brat right now, but six days without sex, and a sex god walking around the house in progressively tackier board shorts. Jensen would admit he liked the pink flamingos and even the pineapples but absolutely hated the garish parrots, the monkeys and bananas, and the rubber fucking duckies. Today he was wearing a shark patterned pair, but the sharks were either blue, pink or yellow. It was an assault on good taste…and eyesight. How could a man like Jared who knew and lauded good taste and luxury wear such utterly tacky shit? Did he wear them to try and make himself seem less sexy and attractive to Jensen? That would be impossible. He could don a glittery unicorn onesie and Jensen would still want to jump his bones. And god does he want to jump his bones now after six fucking days of Jared walking around with tacky board shorts hanging low on his slim hips, smelling like coconuts and seawater, skin a delicious-looking caramel tan color that Jensen wants to kiss and lick. Now that he can, Jared is denying him?

“Jensen.” Jared’s got that authoritative tone in his voice and Jensen ceases his internal bitchfit. “Who am I?”

“Jared. You…you’re my Jared.”

The subtle rise of color in Jared’s sharp cheeks made Jensen feel proud. “Yes, and what do I do?”

Jensen swallows, he gets it now. “Give me what I need.”

“Exactly.” He crowds Jensen up against the stainless steel fridge. “To do that I want things a certain, perfect way. That is going to take a little time. Trust me, baby. As bad as you want me, just know I want you back just as bad. Just a few more hours, and I promise that you will have everything you’ve been craving.”

Jensen’s heart thuds. Jared has never broken a promise to him. He feels chastened. It’s been rough on him, but he hadn’t considered how hard this has been for Jared as well. Shit. He was a selfish prick about this. “But what about jacking me off? Something, Jared, to take the edge off? Please?”

Jared presses in closer, breath warm and fragrant of coffee. “No,” Jared says sternly.

Jensen chases Jared’s lips, licks them with the tip of his tongue. “Maybe I can suck you off while you watch the movie?” He reaches down to rub Jared’s growing erection. It’s hard and getting harder, so big, and Jensen feels so empty.

“You could, but I think you’d rather take this big load in your ass and scream as I lick it out, like I promised to do.”

Jensen shivers. Oh God. He remembers that conversation. Hours before their wedding Jared had called him up and talked him to orgasm, making that exact dirty promise. It occurs to him how clean Jared has been talking to him over the last several days, no sexual innuendo, no dirty promises, nothing to add to his frustration. Jensen appreciates that.

“Okay. Now,” Jared says, backing away. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to make breakfast and we’re going to go about today like we have been for the last few.”

“But, Jared.”

“No. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything,” Jensen replies promptly.

“Then trust me now. Go into the living room and pick something to watch.”

He turns to go into the living room when something occurs to him. “Hey, Jare? I’m sorry what I said about your scruff. I think you’d look good with a beard.”

They watch Whatever Happened To Baby Jane over a breakfast—though it is close to noon—of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. Jared does an amazing Bette Davis impression; Jensen’s own Joan Crawford isn’t too bad. They could have been actors in another life.

They watch Hairspray—the original with Ricki Lake, and have a good time dancing to the old music. Jared really is a good dancer when he tries. Jensen however gets a raging hard on and that makes it a bit harder—no fucking pun intended—to dance. Both movies are a pleasant distraction from the low-grade state of arousal he is in.

They have beers and Jared makes amazing BLT’s for lunch that they eat out on the patio. They head back inside and Jared cues up Showgirls. It is tacky and over the top; he loves it for those reasons and more, but the extremely sexual nature of the movie makes his banked arousal flare to life.

“Hey, Jare, don’t you just love Versayce?” Jensen says mangling the pronunciation just as Nomi Malone does in the movie.

“Oh my fucking God, do you have any idea how much I hate that line?”

Jensen grins wide. “A label queen like you? The hell you say!”

“Shut up, smartass.”

Sometime later, there was a knock at the door. Jensen felt as if a bucket of cold water was splashed over him. Who in the hell was that? Only a handful of people knew where they were. Had something so serious happened back in Dallas that someone came to get them? Had something happened to Colin? Maybe some unknown enemy had used Jensen and Jared’s time away to launch some kind of coup or takeover of his Organization. Why had he allowed himself to forget who and what he was? He needed to be wary and alert at all times, and have a gun at hand. He stood stiffening his shoulders and straightening his spine. Jared, who had also got to his feet, flashed a smile. Jensen relaxed. If Jared wasn’t alarmed, he shouldn’t be. He sat back down and tried to focus on the movie again but all he could give his attention to was Jared at the door.

He heard voices from the door, Jared soft and polite, then the door closed and he came back with a narrow wooden box, there is a stamp or label or logo on it, but he can’t make it out. Jared winks at Jensen and heads toward the kitchen, trying to hide whatever was just delivered. Jensen follows, feeling a little like a puppy. At the kitchen counter, Jared was opening the wood box.

“Jare?”

“Nope! Back to the living room with you!” He shooed Jensen back into the living room.

“But.... What’s in the box?” Jensen wails melodramatically. “Brad Pitt. Seven. No?” He grins, feeling playful despite himself. His eyes flit to the counter and he quickly reads the black label on the box: Krug Clos du Mesnil 2002.

“You are way hotter than him. Go back into the living room.” Jared bends and kisses his smiling lips. “Don’t wanna miss Nomi coming out of the volcano,” Jared sing-songs gently pushing Jensen back towards the living room.

Well, Jensen can’t really argue with that, so he returns to the living room and back to the tacky glamorous world of Las Vegas showgirls. He watches the movie but thinks about the box in the kitchen. Jensen knows enough about wine to recognize the Krug brand, they produce champagnes, and he remembered Jared mentioning the year 2002 on the phone a couple of days ago. He concludes that Jared has bought them a very fine vintage of champagne for later tonight. He shivers in anticipation.

Jared joins him a couple of minutes later. Jensen tucks himself up close to Jared’s side, warm and intimate, smelling his scent of clean sweat, sea salt and something darker, familiar as Jensen’s own reflection.

“Wanna know a secret?” Jared asks Nomi is exploding topless out of the volcano.

Jensen tilts his head to gaze at Jared. “We don’t have secrets, Jared,” Jensen says sounding stern.

Jared grins. “Well, not really a secret more of an interesting fact from my past.”

Jensen cocks a brow. “Okay.” With Jared he could be about to confess to murder or something a bit silly and fun.

“When this movie came out, me and Petey would go see it all the time. I was thirteen or so and Petey would sneak me into the theater. He loved all the tits and ass but me? I loved the—”

“The camp,” Jensen finishes cutting him off grinning and nodding.

“Exactly!” Jared crows. “Although I didn’t know that was the word for it. Not back then.”

“He never knew or suspected you were gay before he found us together?” Jensen asks.

“No.” Jared sighs. “After Armstrong fiddled with me, I didn’t like people near me or to be touched and Petey was never demonstrative that way with his affection.”

“Understandable.” He turns on the couch to look at Jared. Jared doesn’t look at him, just keeps watching as Nomi gyrates on screen, but his voice has lost its happy playfulness.

“When puberty hit and shit, and I figured I was probably gay. It felt wrong, because I thought Armstrong fiddling with me made me that way, and that compounded the guilt he made me feel for my families’ deaths. I kinda worried I’d…you know, like little boys or something, because of what Armstrong did. I went wild, trying to run from myself, ya know? I tried to be straight. I fucked girls, but they never really did it for me. Then the idea of killing him occurred to me. Killing him made it better, like exorcising the guilt and grief.”

“You didn’t lose your cherry to some John did you? Or,” Jensen cannot help the sneer or the anger pounding through his veins. “Fuller did you?” He hated the idea of Jared losing his virginity to that child trafficking scumbag.

“No. This was a little bit before Petey went to prison and I started working for Fuller. I’d done a little reading into sexuality and orientation. Back then shit wasn’t as open and in your face as it is now, but I found out enough to realize you’re born gay, and being gay didn’t make me a pedophile. After learning that, I set out to get laid like any red-blooded American boy.

“I snuck into a gay club. It’s kinda amazing how much you can get by with just by being tall. I was just over six feet and either my height made me seem older—my face sure didn’t—or the bouncer didn’t care, and I got in.

“The first time I had sex I was fifteen—close to sixteen—and he was a cute guy, littler than me. I never liked big guys. You’re about the biggest guy I’ve been with, and I don’t mean anything about your damn stomach. I mean, you are a tall and broad guy, Jense, a big guy, it’s just I’m bigger. Anyway, we talked and flirted to break the ice then went into the bathroom to fuck. It was quick and dirty but oh so good. Being with a girl was never like that. God, I shot off like a rocket the second I got in him. I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so young at the time. I kept going back to the club again and again.”

Jared goes quiet for a bit, and Jensen lets it go. “I think…” Jared starts up after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, “that that is how I caught Fuller’s attention. He had seen me at the clubs or something. Because when he approached me he knew shit.”

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t,” Jared’s voice is sharp, cutting off Jensen’s sympathetic words. “Like I said whatever unpleasant shit happened is always gonna be worth it because I found you, and you are worth everything.”

Jensen rests his head on Jared’s shoulder and they go back to watching the movie. He does feel Jared tense up when Nomi’s history of prostitution comes up, but for the most part he’s relaxed and quotes lines along with the actresses; eventually, Jensen gets in on the act and it is a great time and the late afternoon goes by.

As Nomi is hitching out of Vegas, there is another knock at the door. Jensen glances over at Jared, who stands up, not seeming alarmed by this incursion on their honeymoon either.

“‘What did you win’?” Jared asks, quoting the movie, as he walks to the door a sexy sway in those hips that isn’t usually there.

“’Me’,” Jensen pushes the answering quote out of his mouth.

“’I want my fucking suitcase! Asshole!’” Jared quotes, really putting the camp into it. Jared really had a gift for over the top camp and Jensen loved to see it. Jensen loved Jared more than life itself, but these glimpses into the kind of man Jared was, and could have been in another kinder universe, open, bubbly, carefree, but still with moments of seriousness, even pensive melancholy, made him love Jared all the more. He loved all facets of Jared.

He came back from the door with a couple of large paper bags. “I ordered dinner for us from the Yemenja Woodfired Grill. You will eat every bite because you will need your strength for after.”

Just like that Jensen was rock hard.

“Head down to the beach,” Jared winked taking the bags into the kitchen. “I’ll be out with the food in a few.”

Jensen did as instructed and gasped when he stepped out of the sliding glass door. Somehow Jared had arranged for a table and chairs to be set up on the beach, and a goddamned brass bed under the palm tree. There is some soft music playing from speakers that have been set out on the deck. Jensen listens, something soft and classical. It takes a second for him to realize it is music by the quartet that had played at their wedding reception, which had been a mix of Jared’s much-loved metal power ballads and Jensen’s classic rock favorites. His heart clenches. Others can think what they like, call Jared a monster or Cujo, but this is who he really was, thoughtful and romantic.

Feeling like he’s floating Jensen heads down to the intimate little table set for two on the shoreline. There is a bottle of white wine open—not the Krug champagne, Jensen notices—and crystal wine and water glasses, silver cutlery, and linen napkins. The only things missing are plates. Jensen takes a deep breath of the salty air and exhales. Jared arranged all this, keeping him distracted by fun campy movies. The sky is a gorgeous collage of pinks, yellows, oranges and reds. Nothing could be more perfect, a delicious meal on the beach as the tide comes in and the stars come out. There were no words to express his love for his husband.

He turns when he hears the sliding glass door open. Jared, looking like an absolute vision in sleek black slacks and a flamingo pink silk shirt, open at the throat and sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose his muscled forearms, walks toward him carrying a plate of food in each hand.

“Okay?” Jared asks, setting the china plates down on the table.

“Amazing,” Jensen replies, not even looking at the food. All he can focus on is Jared. Jensen feels very underdressed in his knit pants and t-shirt. The knit pants are his but the t-shirt—a soft wash-faded Metallica …And Justice for All concert T, a bit baggy on him so as not to irritate his healing sunburn—is Jared’s.

Jared bends to kiss him. “Just one more sec, okay? Left something in the kitchen.”

Jared turns and strides back onto the deck and disappears into the villa. He appears a moment later with a silver ice bucket—there is the Krug—a green bottle chilling in it. Instead of bringing it over to their table he sets it in the middle of the bed. He sets across from Jensen a gentle smile making his dimples peek out.

“Jared…when? How?” Jensen asks at a loss.

“I could be coy and say ‘I’m a man of many and mysterious talents’, but we both know money takes care of most things. Eat.” Jared motions to the cutlery and plate. He had plated their dinner with all the flair of a head chef.

Jensen gazes down at his plate to see what has been prepared for him. “It’s a grilled stuffed pork tenderloin,” Jared says helpfully.

So it is, Jensen thinks picking up his fork and knife. His tenderloin is stuffed with a variety of mushrooms and mascarpone, with a side dish of risotto and glazed asparagus and snow peas. His first bite is heavenly. He glances at Jared’s plate. Jared is enjoying a seafood medley with rice and stir fry veggies.

“I wonder about Colin,” Jared says pouring them each a glass of the white wine.

“Meaning?” Jensen asks brows coming together.

“He’s smart, capable. But, let’s be honest, your authority, at least a part of it, comes from the fact that everyone knows you, and you alone, hold the leash of a rabid dog—Cujo’s leash, my leash,” Jared’s vulpine eyes gleam in the dying sun. “Colin doesn’t have a Cujo.”

Jensen nods, understanding. He takes a sip of wine, wipes his mouth. “You wanna know what I think? I think Colin is the rabid dog. He has a darkness in him, I saw it the first time I met him. It’s grown over the years. I think once he starts working interrogations with you he will tap into it, unleash it. He’s like me in the way that he keeps a lid on things, but deep down, he’s more like you.”

Jared absorbs that. “If that’s the case, he needs a Jensen. Think that’s Brock?”

Jensen eats and mulls it over. He’s known Brock in a casual way for twenty years. He knows the business and runs his arm of it excellently. “I don’t know. I think it’s too early in whatever this is with Colin and Brock to judge it. And we certainly cannot compare what they have to what we have. We…are not a “healthy” couple.”

Jared rolls his eyes. Jensen agrees with that assessment. He doubts many—if any—couples have what they have, a bone deep knowledge that their partner would do anything for them. He can function well on his own, but with Jared, he is at his best.

“Do you worry?” Jared asks. “I mean, you kept us a secret for fifteen years because you worried it would put a target on me; that I would be used to get to you. Do you worry about that with Colin? That someone will use Brock to get to him, or vice versa?”

“It’s always a risk in our business. ‘Pick someone who knows the score’; my father told me that, and I told Colin. Of course, you can’t pick who you fall in love with—I think Colin realizes that now that he has fallen in love with another man—but Colin keeps his private life private like I do.

“Collins didn’t know about us and that was to his detriment,” Jensen says. “If he had…I doubt he would have done what he did. He would have known better, he would have known you would come for him, that you were off the leash.”

Jared’s grin was feral, but not in the sexy way, but in that gut-clenching, frightening way. Yeah, Jared was a monster, a rabid dog. Cujo, but only because that was the side of himself he chose to put on display; the same way Jensen showcased his clinical and calculating Ice Cold persona.

“I still think I killed him too quickly.”

Jensen thinks about the ten days in that dank dark pit. Thinks about the clawing thirst and the gnawing hunger, the helplessness, the very real sensation of his sanity beginning to slip away, about how he still had nightmares, still hated the dark, and closed in spaces. “Yeah, you probably did. Back to the topic of Colin. I think the loyalty he has bred with his crew out in California and the rest of the IC will be enough to protect him after you and I retire. Loyalty is not something that can be bought and is priceless once you have it; Colin has it. In addition, our very big, very dark shadows will still linger and offer more protection. So, no, I’m not really worried.”

“You are a very wise man, Jensen Ackles.”

Jared clears away their dinner things and heads back into the villa for their desserts.

“So. Retirement. When you want to hang it up, Jense?” Jared asks setting down bowls with what looks to be a scoop of gelato topped with glazed berries.

“Maybe when I’m sixty. So, fourteen or fifteen years. By then Colin will be very well seasoned. Maybe before if he is as gifted in this business as I suspect he is becoming. He’s already proven he is capable, running his small rackets in Cali.”

Jared smiles. “That sounds good.”

They make short work of their desserts. Jensen wipes his mouth as Jared stands. He gazes down at Jensen with heat in his eyes.

“Well, I fed you a good dinner. Now, it’s time to put out.”

“I’m not that kind of girl!” Jensen says in a falsetto voice tossing his napkin down in a fit of high dudgeon.

Jared lets out a bark of laughter. Jensen does like the short beard Jared seems to be cultivating, but doesn’t like the way it hides his dimples. Jensen stands and takes Jared’s hand and they walk over to the brass bed. Jensen’s pulse races. How is it possible for him to be nervous when he’s been sleeping with Jared for twenty years?

At the edge of the bed, Jared enfolds Jensen into his strong arms, and gazes down at him, eyes radiating love and passion. “You sure you’re not hurting anymore?” Jared asks, brows drawn together as he searches Jensen’s face for a lie.

“No. I want you, Jared. I fucking need you,” Jensen’s voice holds the hint of a plea in it.

“You have me, Jense. Always.”

Jared lowers his mouth and covers Jensen’s, stealing his breath and stoking the banked fires of passion into a blaze. He clutches at him, grips a handful of his bright pink silk shirt and down to grip a nice handful of perky ass cheek. He hears Jared make a noise, between a chuckle and groan. They kiss and grope beneath the palm tree until they are breathless, flushed, and hard. Jared pulls back, rips his shirt off his back, buttons go flying. Jensen mirrors him; pulling the loose-fitting t-shirt over his head and shoving his pants and underwear down. Newly naked, Jared grips Jensen and hauls him in, kissing him again, hands wandering all over his peeling freckled skin.

“I’ve really missed touching you,” Jared says between kisses.

“I’ve missed it, too,” Jense sighs before Jared’s mouth is on his in a slow deep kiss, tongues caressing and playing.

Jared nips at his full bottom lip before pulling back. “Get on the bed,” Jared requests, giving an upward nod of his head. He lifts the silver ice bucket with the bottle of champagne chilling in it from the middle of the bed.

“What ya gonna do with that?” Jensen asks, leaning back on his forearms.

“Nothing,” Jared’s eyes glitter with sensual mischief.

“Not sure I believe you,” Jensen grins.

He peels the silver paper from around the neck of the champagne bottle and works the cork gently from the neck. The cork pops and a little foam sprays out before Jared closes his mouth around the bottle.

Jensen feels his heartbeat spike and he swallows thickly, watching the long elegant line of Jared’s throat and his Adam’s apple move as he drinks the champagne.

“Want some?” Jared asks.

“I…uhhh,” Jensen replies stupidly.

Jared grins, upends the bottle, and pours a measure into his mouth. Then, he bends over Jensen passing the bubbly wine into Jensen’s mouth with a kiss.

“Best way to drink champagne,” Jensen says, licking his lips as Jared pulls back.

“We’ll get back to it, but I wanna have a little fun first.” He plunks the bottle back into the ice bucket.

“Oh God,” Jensen sighs. Jared’s idea of fun is often one extreme or the other, extreme violence or extremely sexual. Since Jared would never hurt Jensen—at least not in a way Jensen didn’t want—he can deduce he is in for a hell of a time.

Jared gently pushes Jensen to lay back down. He plucks an ice cube from the bucket and circles a nipple with the cube.

“How’s that feel, Jense?”

“Mmmm,” Jensen moans, sighs, and arches his back.

“How ‘bout this?” Jared winks, pops the ice cube in his mouth before latching onto a nipple.

“Ah! Oooh!” Jensen exclaims. He should never underestimate Jared’s creativity when it came to making love.

From one nipple to the other Jared moves, alternating with a piece of ice in his mouth, or circling the other nipple with a cube. When Jared stops the exquisite icy torture of his nipples, Jensen has leaked a puddle of precum on his belly and he’s panting, needy, and aching.

“Jare,” he pleads.

Jared’s grin is wicked and feral. He grabs the champagne from the bucket and takes a swig. He hovers over Jensen. Jensen arches his neck, and opens his mouth, expecting Jared to open his and let the wine flow from his mouth into Jensen’s. Instead, Jared lets the alcohol flow onto Jensen’s chest, and bends to lap it up with gentle swipes of his tongue.

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jared asks so close to his ear, voice a warm husk.

“No,” Jensen emphatically shakes his head. “No. Please. More.”

Jared does it again, pours cold champagne along Jensen’s chest and laps it up with his tongue, gradually moving lower and lower. Color floods Jensen’s face and he tries not to squirm or move away when Jared pays attention to his soft middle; kissing, caressing. Jared, always able to read Jensen’s mind, gives him a hard glare, and pours champagne into his navel and licks it out. Jared worships his little belly and Jensen revels in it, feeling like the sexiest man in the world Jared believes him to be.

“Oh, Jared,” Jensen sighs out and runs his fingers through Jared’s short hair. He squeezes his eyes shut feeling dangerously close to tears. He knows he will never again resent his softer middle, nor stress about not having Jared’s washboard abs. He’s not built like Jared, doesn’t have his metabolism and that’s okay. Jared has and always will accept him as he is and Jensen should really do the same.

Periodically, Jared will take a swig from the bottle and give Jensen a drink through a deep and dirty kiss. Jensen doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or Jared that has him feeling so floaty or if he’s just intoxicated with Jared and making love again.

Jared loves lower, hand closing around Jensen’s aching cock. “Fucking gorgeous cock,” Jared husks, gripping the base and painting his lips with the clear fluid leaking from Jensen’s slit. “Tastes as good as it looks,” Jared husks against the head making Jensen moan and his hips jerk. Jared pours a stream of the champagne over Jensen’s erection.

“Oh! Oh, God!” The shock of the coolness is only momentary before Jared is sucking him deep into his mouth. Jensen bucks his hips, hands grasping for Jared’s hair, it hits him that Jared’s hair is so short now, but still enough left on top to curl his fingers in.

Jared pulls off long and slow with an obscene pop, Jensen whimpers in frustration. He wants that smirking mouth around his cock. Jared’s fingers are digging through the ice before plucking a cube and putting it into his mouth. He pours a generous measure of the champagne over Jensen’s cock and balls again.

“Jare-Jared,” Jensen cries out as the silky cold cavern of Jared’s mouth envelopes his hot erection again. He screams and his fingers tighten in Jared’s hair. Oh god it’s so much it’s too much. It’s delicious beyond words and pleasure from the switching sensations of cold and warmth. Jared pours more champagne over Jensen’s balls and sucks first one then the other into his mouth.

“Yes, Jared, Yes, yes.” Jensen writhes bucks his hips but whines helplessly as Jared pulls off.

“You know, this is an especially good vintage. It pairs well with cock.” He arches a brow and his grin is wickedly sinful. “Think it goes equally good with ass?”

Jensen exhales, flushes. He is so far beyond knowing how to be sexy. He eagerly turns over onto his stomach and arches his hips, presenting his ass to Jared. “Couldn’t hurt to try?”

Jensen shivers as Jared pours champagne over his ass and dives in. Jared loves rimming, goes at it like it’s his job. He can and would willingly do it for hours and oh sweet fucking Christ. He licks, kisses, nibbles and sucks at Jensen’s hole, varying the speed, direction; every sensation designed to drive Jensen wild. He feels the tip of Jared’s tongue penetrate him and he whines, clutches the sheets, and rocks his hips back.

“Your cock! Your cock! I want your cock, Jared! Please!” Jensen cries out, feeling on the edge of orgasm just from Jared’s dirty enthusiastic rimming.

Jared gives a final long lick from Jensen’s perineum to his tailbone before stopping. Jensen flops over onto his back. He rests his feet flat on the mattress and spreads his legs like a complete needy slut but he does not fucking care.

“Eager, baby.” Jared smirks. “I know you’ve missed my cock, but what about the rest of me?” Jared shakes the champagne bottle, thumb over the top. A second later he sprays what’s left all over his chest.

Jensen’s pulse races and his mouth falls open as the champagne races down Jared’s chest in tantalizing rivulets. Jensen fucking tackles Jared back onto the bed.

“Rawr!” Jared says around a laugh. His laugh turns into as gasp as Jensen laps up the alcohol.

His hands roam over the dips and valleys of Jared’s sculpted torso, followed by his lips and tongue, moving lower. “I take back what I said before,” Jensen says. “This is the best way to drink champagne.”

He reaches Jared’s cock, so thick, so hard, for him, and inwardly trembles. Six days isn’t long at all in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like an eon since he had this, tasted this, and he is a fucking fiend for it. He sucks Jared deep into his mouth, going at it hard and fast, gagging and choking around Jared’s thick length.

“Aww, fuck, Jense,” Jared sighs, petting Jensen’s head, not pushing or guiding, just letting Jensen have his way.

Jensen goes at it with no skill, no finesse, not really even thinking about pleasuring Jared, just hungry for cock in his mouth, and soon; his ass. Jensen’s moaning and breathing hard through his nose. Its sloppy, wet, and messy; precum and spit leak from the corners of Jensen’s mouth and down his chin. Jared sighs and moans, and rocks his hips, gently fucking Jensen’s greedy mouth. He pulls off Jared’s cock with a pop, his lips numb and jaw a little achy. His eyes snap to Jared’s big balls and Jensen dives back down to lavish them with all the attention they deserve. He licks, sucks, and kisses, each one, burying his nose in them, inhaling Jared’s salty musky scent, relearning every intimate detail of the man he loves. Worshipping Jared’s beautiful cock and balls is sexy, and intoxicating, but it’s not enough. Won’t be enough until he has Jared buried deep inside him.

He pulls back, gazes down at Jared, there is a flush creeping down from his cheeks and neck to his chest, and his eyes are heavy lidded with pleasure, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “There’s lube out here, right?” Jensen asks.

Jared reaches under a pillow and pulls out a bottle. “How bout, you keep suckin’ my cock and I play with your cute ass?”

Jensen’s eyes flutter closed and he sighs. He moves around, positions his knees on either side of Jared’s head, lowers his ass over Jared’s face, and goes back to sucking his cock, not fast or hard, but slow lazy licks and gentle sucks, taking his time now, savoring the weight on his tongue and taste.

Jared spreads Jensen’s ass wide and goes back to rimming him, little teasing licks with the tip of his tongue, and probing at his hole with a slippery finger He pulls off Jared’s cock to moan and buck back, riding Jared’s face and tongue.

Jared’s fingers grip Jensen’s hips tight to keep him from moving. “‘M cock’s getting cold. Keep it warm while I open you up, Jense,” Jared says, breath caressing Jensen’s spit-slicked hole.

“Yes, Sir,” Jensen says. The honorific falls from Jensen’s lips although they are not currently engaging in a power exchange. He bends back over and leisurely sucks and laps Jared’s cock, closing his eyes and drifting in pleasure the way dandelion fluff drifts on a breeze.

Jared covers Jensen’s hole with his wide mouth, lapping and licking, getting him good and wet. He hears the click of the lube bottle opening, then feels a little pinch and sting when Jared slips a finger inside him, but it fades as Jared works him slow and easy, one finger, then a little more stretch and sting as he works in two, then three. It’s so good, but not enough, not nearly enough when he considers the length and girth of what’s in his hand and mouth. He can feel its heat and the very pulse of Jared’s blood through the thin skin. He traces the thick veins that criss cross the length before taking the head back into his mouth to lap up the clear nectar leaking from the tip.

They are both on the same wavelength, slowing it down, taking it easy. There is no need for dirty talk, they are saying everything they need with sighs and moans. Jensen’s cock is heavy and his balls ache but its sweet, he knows the climax he’ll be rewarded with in the end will be intense.

He doesn’t know how long they go on, but he whimper and whines when Jared ceases playing with his ass.

“Pretty eager hole all slick and open for me,” Jared sighs, Jensen can feel Jared’s fingertips teasing around his rim. “How do you want it, Jense?” Jared asks voice a soft sexy rumble, breath fanning across Jensen’s wet open hole.

Jensen moves, hard cock bobbing as he does, he grabs the ice bucket and tosses it across the beach, and covers Jared’s body with his own. He moans and shudders when their hard cocks brush. Jared groans and grabs Jensen’s ass, undulating his hips to rub their hard lengths together. Jensen brushes his lips, swollen and a little numb from the extended blow job, across Jared’s mouth in the barest hint of a kiss. “I want your big gorgeous body covering mine, my legs around your hips, and you buried deep inside me.”

Jared, fast as a lightning strike, flips them, so Jensen is flat on his back and Jared atop him, saucy little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He gazes at Jensen, and the smirk evaporates, eyes boring deep into Jensen’s. “You are the love of my life, Jensen Ackles.”

Whatever response Jensen was going to make dies on his lips as Jared surges into him with one long smooth stroke, his body opening to let Jared inside the way it always has. Jensen sighs, arches up, moans, feeling as if the missing piece has slotted back into place. Jared has always been his missing piece. Jared makes him whole.

Jared gazes down at him. “Missed you, Jense, missed this,” Jared whispers between breath-stealing kisses. “Hate that I couldn’t touch you without hurting you. Never wanna hurt you.” His hips start to work, slow easy thrusts; in and out, in and out.

“I know, babe,” He runs his fingers through Jared’s hair, and brings his mouth close to his. He bites his bottom lip. “You’re not hurting me now; you’re making me feel incredible.”

Jensen winds his legs around Jared’s hips, caressing Jared’s body, arms, back, and chest with roaming hands before winding his arms about Jared’s neck. Slow rolls of his hips, cock gliding smoothly in and out, rubbing over his prostate, the pleasure building and building at a steady pace, neither doing anything to make it boil over. They can take their time. They’ll get there.

The easy languid pace ratchets Jensen’s arousal higher. It’s divine and exquisite, but he wants more. He wants hard and rough. It’s been so long and now that he has Jared inside him he just wants it rough, the way he always does, the way he hungers for it. Satisfying a need, an ache, in him that is always there.

“Harder, Jared, please. Harder,” Jensen gasps, squeezing his thighs around Jared’s hips the way an experienced horseman would before urging his steed to a run.

That feral grin tugs Jared’s lips and in his eyes Jensen sees his own need mirrored there. Slow and sweet may work for other people, but not them, not even in this romantic place and time. That’s not who they are. Jared is a beast in bed and Jensen is a needy bastard. Like every other aspect of their life, Jensen controls and contains the beast in Jared, but now all he wants to do is let him out.

“Fuck me, Jared. Fuck me like I need it, like you want it! Now!”

Jared growls, lips pull back in a sneering snarl. Jensen grips the brass bars of the headboard, hanging on as Jared slams into him and sets a brutal pace. His eyes roll back in his head and his mouth falls open on high gasping cries as Jared pegs his prostate on every single brutal push inside.

Yes, oh, yes, this, this is exactly what he’s craved, what he’s needed, what satisfies him, what he could never ask for or find with any other partner.

“Hard, Jared! I said I wanted it hard! I can barely feel you!”Jensen goads.

“I’m gonna make you regret that, baby,” Jared growls, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts, slamming into him hard enough to rattle Jensen’s teeth. The bed rocks and squeaks in protest of the rough treatment.

“Oh! Oh, God!” Jensen cries. He has no doubt he will be feeling this for days.

Perfect.

“Ch-cho-choke me, Jared!” Jensen pleads around a gasping moan.

Jared’s eyes flash, a shadow of the monster in him. His big hands close around Jensen’s throat and cut off his air.

Yes! Yes! Dear, God, yes!

So much like the night Jared proposed to him, so much their first time together two decades ago, when Jensen hadn’t been completely sure Jared wouldn’t just choke the life out of him and take over as head of the Ackles Organization. Now, he knows that would never have happened. But what he does know is the lack of air, giving up total control to Jared over his very life, makes him come harder than he normally does.

He is so fucking close. His heart thunders in his chest like a racehorse. He struggles to breathe as his vision goes dim. Jared lets up the pressure on his throat just enough for him to suck in ragged breath before squeezing hard again and cutting off his air supply. Dark spots dance before his eyes. He releases the hold on the brass headboard to clutch at Jared’s shoulders, fingers digging in so hard he leaves behind little crescent marks.

He writhes, fighting for air, as his vision goes still darker. He doesn’t panic, his mind goes still and quiet the way it always does like this. The crashing of the waves fades, the creak of the bed fades. His eyes flutter shut, his mouth works, trying to push out one word: please.

Please. I’m so close. Get me there, Jared.

Jared’s hands pull away from his throat and one grips his cock and strokes him hard and fast in rhythm to his punishing thrusts. His other hand hikes up Jensen’s right leg, resting his heel on one broad shoulder, allowing his cock to push in just a little deeper.

Jensen sucks in air, white spots dance before his eyes before he’s squeezing them shut, and raking his nails down Jared’s sweat-slick back. He comes, long and hard, cock shoots thick hot lines of jizz all over his and Jared’s chests, balls emptying everything they have saved up. He howls out his pleasure. It goes on and on and it hurts but feels exquisite, as close to Nirvana as anyone could ever hope to come while still Earthbound.

Jensen is limp as over-boiled spaghetti as Jared’s thrusts lose their rhythm. He works those hips with mindless abandon. “Come, Jare. Give it t’me,” Jensen pants out.

One, two, three more brutal thrusts before Jared stills, and comes with a shout of, “JENSE!”

Jared drops down on top of him, both breathing hard and still jerking with the aftershocks of their powerful orgasms.

“You okay, Jense?” Jared asks, beginning to nuzzle and nibble at Jensen’s neck.

Jensen arches his neck to give Jared more room. “Mmmm,” Jensen exhales. “Fanfuckingtastic.” His voice is a little hoarse from sucking Jared and screaming during sex.

“‘Member what I promised you I’d do? How I’d eat my cum out of your ass and feed it back to you?”

Lord in Heaven. Jensen shudders. For twenty years, one thing about Jared has always proven true: he never breaks a promise.