X-mas fic!!!

[rockstarpeach]

Title: My Heart Was Beating Fast
Pairing: J2
Rating: Adult
Summary: Jared's always been a little possessive. If he thinks it's in any way endearing, Jensen's got news for him. And Jared would learn his lesson, he really would, if Jensen wasn't guaranteed to put out, regardless.
Word count: 3200
AN: spn_j2_xmas gift for greatwall0fsam, for their likes of – bamf!boys, jealousy/possessiveness and h/c. Merry Christmas!!
AO3

***

Jared sits at the kitchen table, hunched forward with a hand cradling his tender ribs and he hisses and flinches back when Jensen uses a little too much force to press to bag of ice to his busted lip.

“Ow,” he pouts, taking the bag from Jensen and dabbing it a little more gently. “Hurts.”

Jensen just rolls his eyes, though and the purse of his lips doesn't lessen. Damn. Still mad then.

“Next time you pull that shit,” Jensen tells him, pushing another ice pack into Jared's ribs and this time Jared grits his teeth against the pain. It's not bad, not really, but it's not entirely helpful, either, “I'm leaving you to get your damn fool ass kicked.”

“What do you call this?” Jared mumbles, gesturing up and down his body – his split lip, his black eye, his bruised jaw and his sore ribs.

“I call that you getting off lightly, considering.”

Jared scowls at that and then looks down, putting the ice back to his lip so it's muffled when he answers, “How was I supposed to know the guy knew kung fu? Besides, I was trying to defend your honour. Don't I get any thanks for that?”

Jensen snorts and his lips curl up into the beginnings of a smile before it disappears into a tight line.

“My hero,” he deadpans. “And that wasn't kung fu, it was aikido.”

It's Jared's turn to snort, now. Jensen would know. He studies mixed martial arts, and he's damn good at it.

“And where's my thanks, tough guy, for getting you out of there in one piece?”

“My hero,” Jared says, words not quite as flat as when Jensen had used them. “But you couldn't have jumped in before the guy kneed me in the ribs?”

Jensen gives a small laugh to that, probably at how pathetic Jared looks but hey, Jared'll take it because Jensen sighs and pulls a chair closer to Jared.

“Here,” he says, taking the ice pack, “let me...”

He slowly moves it up Jared's cheek, dabbing gently all the way up to his black eye. He leans even closer so that he can press a feather soft kiss to the apple of Jared's cheek before he puts the ice back and Jared lets out a long sigh of relief and his eyes flutter shut. For a while there it was starting to look like Jared would be sleeping on the couch.

“Idiot,” Jensen whispers, but it's that half teasing whisper for just a moment, until his voice gets a little louder. “But Jared, come on. Picking a fight with every man who ever hits on me is not as attractive as you think it is.”

“Not every man,” Jared protests. And he certainly doesn't do it to attract Jensen's affections. Not really, anyway. Yeah, sure, it probably wouldn't kill Jensen to appreciate Jared's efforts and Jared has certainly not minded in the past, when ex-boyfriend's have publicly staked their claim. It's a nice feeling, knowing someone is that worked up over you.

Even so, Jared doesn't act that way on purpose. He just... he can't help it. It's not like he's sitting there when they go out for a beer, or to the grocery store and he thinks 'hey, that guy over there smiled at my boyfriend, better kick his ass!' No, that would be a little bit psychotic, Jared gets that.

It's just. Jared's got this thing. Jensen says he's got a possessive streak the size of Texas but Jared doesn't think that's right. He's not possessive. He just likes for everybody they've ever come across in their entire lives to understand that Jensen is his and they can go find the second most beautiful man in the universe and leave Jensen the hell alone. There's nothing wrong with that, right?

And it's not like Jensen gets hit on every time they leave the house or anything, but it does happen. Especially at bars or clubs.

So when he sees someone standing a little too close, or having a conversation with Jensen's belt buckle rather than his face, or offering too many times to buy Jensen a drink when that's clearly code for something else, well. Jared – quite understandably, he feels – needs to set thing straight.

Sure, Jensen can and does say no and sure, Jensen's a motherfuckin' badass when he needs to defend himself physically, but he shouldn't have to. Jared always steps in, puts his arm around Jensen and tells the guy to back the fuck off. He's used those exact words more than once, but he's not really proud of it.

Sometimes they don't, though. Sometimes they keep pushing and sometimes, especially when people have been drinking, it gets a little physical. Jared never throws the first punch but Jensen's probably right when he complains that Jared could handle things with a little less antagonism.

“Give me some credit, it's no every man.”

“That's true,” Jensen muses, corner of his mouth definitely turning up now. “I remember last month it was that woman at the bakery.”

“Hey! It's not like I would have touched her. And I was nice. Ish.”
Jensen breathes out slowly and shakes his head, but presses a butterfly kiss to Jared's nose. Jared doesn't hide his smile and he starts to feel warm inside.

“Seriously, Darlin'. You think I don't get jealous every time you get hit on?”

“I'm not jealous,” Jared grumbles, but Jensen just raises an incredulous eyebrow and keeps on talking.

“But I understand that that's gonna happen. You're even more devastatingly pretty than I am, so you're bound to attract some attention and yeah, there's that split second where I'm thinking 'mine, get your own'. But I get that some guy appreciating your ass or asking you out on a date that you'll turn down anyway is not a big deal. Not worth getting all worked up over. Definitely not worth getting hurt over.”

Jensen's voice is soft now, his thumb stroking lightly over the good side of Jared's bottom lip.

“I hate seeing you hurt.”

Jared makes a contented little sound and turns his face into Jensen's caress. Shit, he loves it when Jensen dotes on him.

And okay, maybe that's Jared's other thing. Much as he wants to be Jensen's hero, he wants Jensen to be his right back. There might be a not so small part of him that really gets jacked up when Jensen gets all macho, when he stands in between Jared and trouble and it's possible that when Jared is trying to impress Jensen with his manliness, what he's really hoping is that Jensen will step in and show Jared how it's done.

Not his fault. Jensen looks good when he's effortlessly wiping the floor with someone.

But that's really not the kind of the thing Jared is going to share with his boyfriend. Jensen frowns on that sort of thing, after all.

Jensen chuckles a little as he pulls back, sits up straighter in his chair.

“Damn you,” he says. “Even when I'm pissed, I can't stay away.”

“It's because of my dimples,” Jared tells him, showing them off as best he can. Only one shows up, the other still covered by the ice pack.

“That might be part of it,” Jensen admits.

“Right,” Jared adds, with a smile, “The rest is my killer ass.”

That gets a full on laugh out of Jensen, wide-mouthed and pink-cheeked.

“Hard time arguing with that.”

Jared laughs too, but after a few seconds they both sober.

“I'm sorry,” Jared tells him. “You're right, I need to get a handle on things.” He's not lying, not just telling Jensen what he wants to hear. He really does believe he needs to cool it. It's just so hard. “And I know you're not mine, it's not up to me to defend my territory. I'll try. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jensen agrees. “But you're wrong about one thing.”

“What's that?”

“I am all kinds of yours.”

“Oh yeah?” Jared teases, with a laugh. “You wanna show me what kinds?”

Jensen stands then, takes the ice away from Jared's ribs as he pulls Jared up with him and then curls his fingers around Jared's wrist, to ease the ice from his face.

“Think you can handle it?” he asks, all concern and no levity. “Maybe we should just... cuddle.”

Jared's heart swells a little, so does his dick. He growls and reaches out to pull Jensen closer, presses their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss and grasps Jensen's cock tightly in his fist. Jensen hates cuddling. He likes his space while they watch movies and after sex and especially when they sleep. Cuddling is what Jensen does when sex is off the table for some reason but he still wants Jared to know he loves him. Jared doesn't want to cuddle, tonight.

“Just avoid the sensitive areas,” he says. “We'll be fine.”

Jensen smiles and eases back, through the hallway and into the bedroom. He stops at the foot of the bed and he slowly, so very slowly starts to work Jared's shirt up over his torso. Jared lifts his arms, as much as he can anyway and Jensen breathes in sharply through his teeth when the green cotton stretches up over Jared's face, leaving his chest bare.

“Jesus,” Jensen hisses and after the t-shirt is discarded he ducks forward, presses butterfly lips to the angry bruise purpling over Jared's left side.

It doesn't hurt, far from it. The pain has dulled now, nerves numb from the ice so it doesn't feel good either, but Jared's eyelashes flutter and his cock twitches, hips pitching forward to seek out Jensen's. The sight alone, Jensen bending at the knee, head bowed and hands carefully cradling the backs of Jared's ribs – Jared whimpers and he's ready to fall, so long as Jensen catches him.

There's this thing about Jensen, this powerful, unexplainable thing where even when he looks like he's submitting to you, it's actually the other way around.

Damnit, Jared really needs to start watching for that.

Jensen stands up straight again, hand snapping forward to cup Jared's groin and he squeezes, not too hard but just hard enough, leans in to bite against the soft flesh of Jared's lower neck.

“Be gentle with me?” Jared asks, but he's already nearly gone limp in Jensen's arms. His whole body is at odds with itself; sore and numb in turns from the fight and the ice and the rest is set alight, tingling and singing at Jensen's touch.

Jensen licks a slow strip along Jared's jugular and one hand creeps up, along the back of Jared's neck and into his hair. Jensen's fingers curl, gentle at first but when he manages to twist them into a grip around the long strands he tightens his fist, jerks suddenly.

Jared cries out, quietly but sharply, more out of surprise than anything. Jensen hasn't hurt him, Jensen would never hurt him.

“Gentle,” Jared reminds, anyway.

“No more fighting,” Jensen says, licking over Jared's cheek this time, the bruise that's only just starting to darken.

Jared can't help it; he laughs.

Is Jensen serious? He's going to hold sex for hostage because he's pissed that Jared got a little possessive?

Jensen's fist just gets tighter and his eyes narrow.

“Okay, okay,” Jared says as he winces. “Yes, I know. Fighting is bad. I just... Don't believe for one second you'd refuse to put out over this.”

And he's just as sure he wouldn't hurt Jared over it. Jared's getting laid tonight, and Jensen's going to treat him like a damn prince. Oh yeah. Jensen's not the only one who knows how to work it.

Jensen's hand eases up over Jared's crotch, slides a little so that it can slip over his stomach and inside the denim, and the cotton of Jared's briefs.

Yeah, Jared wears briefs. They look fuckin' amazing on him and they drive Jensen crazy. Plus, he's gay so he doesn't really have to care when his momma keeps telling him that they'll turn him sterile.

Jared bites his lip and throws his head back when Jensen's fingers curl around his shaft, pump up and down a few times, lazy and slow while he ruts his own hard-on against Jared's hip. His fingers curl a little too hard around Jared's erection and his other hand drifts, thumb pressing down against Jared's swollen cheek.

“Gentle!”

This time it's a reprimand, a warning and this time Jensen throws his head back and laughs.

“Just this once,” he promises, words whispered in the soft press of their joined lips.

Jared wants more, wants to smash Jensen's face against his own and he knows Jensen wants that too, but that's off the table tonight. That, any and all manhandling and roughness, not happening. Which ordinarily wouldn't bother Jared, except after seeing what he saw tonight, after seeing Jensen own the fuck out of that grabby, kung fu jackass, he's in the mood to be tossed around a little.

And since he's not expecting it, it's doubly surprising (and impressive) when Jensen hoists Jared up into his arms and tosses him onto the bed, effortless and painless and leaving Jared stunned. Jensen takes advantage of Jared's momentary immobility and strips his pants off like they're tissue paper.

Jared blinks up, his body itching where Jensen's clothed one is lying on top of him and he pouts.

“Fuck, I wish I could ride you,” he says, teeth clenched. “Don't think I can sit up straight for too long, though.”

“S'okay, baby,” Jensen answers, shimmying out of his own clothes and working himself between Jared's legs, all while never letting the tips of his fingers cease their relentless assault on Jared's body. “You just tell me what you want.”

Jared doesn't have to.

And for all Jensen teases, for all he grips Jared just the right side of wrong and all he pinches and tugs and bites and yanks, he is gentle. Jared's his prince, after all. He throws Jared's right leg over his shoulder and then goes more slowly with the left one, spits into his hand and shoves two fingers inside Jared, then slows down and gets the lube when he wants to add more.

It's the perfect combination of praise and punishment, the kind of punishment that doesn't deter, not in the least. Jared knows, he knows that acting like an entitled, possessive jerkoff is not something that Jensen finds attractive (and neither would Jared, if the shoe was on the other foot) but come on. Kissing Jared better and then fucking him apart again is not a good way for Jensen to prove his point. Not that Jared's going to say anything; he's enjoying himself way too much for that.

Besides, Jensen realised what he was in for a long time ago. He's had plenty of opportunity to show Jared the door and he's never once considered it.

Jensen's finger crooks and his teeth graze over Jared's mottled ribs. His thumb presses up along the underside of Jared's throbbing prick and his tongue swirls around Jared's stiff nipple and Jared smiles, sighs, whimpers and lets his legs fall further apart.

By the time Jensen pulls Jared's cheeks apart and slides inside, Jared's feeling so good that he's forgotten all about his earlier ass kicking. Oh yeah. He loves Jensen, he really, really does but sometimes the guy is just too easy.

“That's it, sweetheart,” Jared coos, leg hooking around the back of Jensen's knee as his fingertips dig into Jensen's shoulders. “So good for me.”

“Nng,” Jensen grunts in agreement, biting down softly on Jared's neck and curling his hips to thrust harder. “God, Jared.”

Jared chuckles a little and when Jensen swivels and ruts so his cock hits Jared just right, just hard enough while his sensitive ribs remain untouched, Jared moans and his eyes roll back.

“Fuuuuck,” Jensen moans. “Jared, Fuck, baby, please.”

“Not gonna last long, are you sweetheart?” Jared asks. “S'okay, neither am I.”

“Screw you,” Jensen pants, picking up the pace. “I can last all damn night.”

Jared lets out a low, warm belly laugh that gets cut off by a high-pitched keen when Jensen's cock drags over his prostate at the same time as his hand curls around Jared's desperate, leaking cock.

“No,” he gasps, batting Jensen's hand away. “No, don't touch it.”

“Cheater,” Jensen grumbles, but he complies.

And fuck that. If Jensen doesn't think pounding Jared's ass over and over just like that is every bit as scintillating as what's happening to Jensen's cock right now, then Jensen clearly doesn't bottom enough. Jared would feel bad about hogging all the fun if he didn't know Jensen preferred it this way.

Jensen's tongue traces the shell of Jared's ear.

The tips of Jared's middle fingers trace softly up and down Jensen's spine.

Jensen's thumb brushes over Jared's nipple and the fingers of his other hand brush the bangs back from Jared's face.

Jared's breath hitches and he clamps down on Jensen's cock and he whispers in Jensen's ear, “I love you.”

And it's not that Jared doesn't – of course he does, Jensen is basically the reason he goes on living – but the reason he says it is that get him results.

I love you makes Jensen jerk and cry out and come, press his open mouth to Jared's collar bone and fuck Jared through his own orgasm, whereas the mine he'd kind of wanted to utter would have only gotten him teeth marks on his shoulder and his own hand on his dick with Jensen microwaving a hot pocket in the kitchen.

“Sucker,” Jared pants out between deep, heaving breaths.

Jensen laughs and rolls them, so he slips free and rests his head on Jared's chest, fingers ghosting over Jared's bruised ribs.

“Shut up,” he says. “You suck.”

Jared just kisses the corner of Jensen's mouth and smiles until Jensen smiles back.

He slowly shifts and uses his hand to massage and coax, ease Jensen over so that Jared can curl up behind him. Jensen goes, stiffly but he goes and he only curses a little and he only kicks Jared in the shin once, when Jared gets too close.

Jensen hates to cuddle, Jared knows that.

So they don't, not really. Jared's hand rests over Jensen's shoulder and there's at least a foot of space between them. But they're comfortable. Jared can sleep like this.

“Next time you pull this shit,” Jensen slurs, long after Jared thinks he's fallen asleep, “I'm leaving your balls blue, I swear to God.”

Jared laughs. He pulls Jensen in closer. Holds tight when Jensen fights him and doesn't let up until he stills.

If he thought Jensen was serious, he'd be worried.

END