Farmboys Timestamp!
Nov. 25th, 2011 09:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dugindeepJust Another Thanksgiving
800 words; NC-17
Timestamp to Just Another Saturday Night for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
big_heart_june from the holiday timestamp post. She asked for Christmasy snuggles but I decided to make it more post-Thanksgiving ;-)
Jensen glances over his shoulder one last time as he slips out the back door. Thanksgiving dinner is just winding down, but the crowd is gearing up with excitement over the football game, kids chasing one another around the house, and most adults drinking more than their share of beer and bourbon. Jensen figures everyone’s gearing up enough they won’t notice he’s gone, but it doesn’t mean he needs noise to follow him on the way out, so he pulls the door closed as quietly as possible.
Jared, on the other hand, jumps off the back porch with a cheerful wail, stomping to the ground when he lands and skipping around to jog backwards and grin at Jensen.
“Shh,” Jensen whispers harshly, even as he smiles and chases after Jared.
They race to the barn and Jared beats him with his headstart, but once inside, Jensen tackles him into bales of hay. He whimpers when sharp ends stick him through his sweater, then he’s distracted when Jared winds his arms around him and turn them over to lightly wrestle.
When they slow down, Jared shuffles away with a meager complaint as he searches in the dark where they’d fallen against the hay. “You made me drop the flask.”
Jensen settles on the ground with layers of dirt and shaved hay beneath him and watches as Jared grins with the flask held triumphantly above his head. Jared slips behind him so they’re both shadowed in the corner where the pale moonlight can’t find them. Hopefully where no one else can either.
They pass the flask between them and quietly drink the warm bourbon Jared had somehow snuck out of the bottle with no one watching. Before too long, Jensen senses the alcohol in him; his limbs feel loose and his brain easy. He shifts to the side so he can see Jared and then a little more so he can lean close and kiss. Once Jared’s tongue meets his, his pulse quickens and he twists a hand in the collar of Jared’s dress shirt to pull him closer.
Jared’s hands settle at Jensen’s sides then slowly move south until his fingers slip over the zipper of Jensen’s jeans. Jensen groans into Jared’s mouth and opens the buttons of Jared’s so he can dip down and kiss along his collar bone. Jared pushes the heel of his hand down on Jensen’s dick and pulls up on the edge of his sweater.
Jensen can’t move fast enough to take it off, and neither can Jared, it seems, to get into his pants. They’re sitting off-center and twisted, but Jensen still works his mouth at the curve of Jared’s shoulder and gets Jared’s pants open, his hand stroking Jared as soon as he can manage. They fumble at these angles, but don’t bother to do anything different, both moving quickly to get each other off.
It doesn’t take much; being with Jared excites him, sneaking around even more so. Jared seems to be the same because he drops his head alongside Jensen’s and whimpers against his ear, now doing his best to stay quiet with the night.
Jensen feels a shock through his body as his orgasm tilts everything. He grunts and bites his lip as he comes over his stomach and Jared’s perfect, perfect hand. That does it for Jared, too, and he follows, winding his other hand around Jensen’s back and pulling him in tight when he comes with a soft moan.
Using his undershirt, Jensen cleans them both off and tosses it to the side with flask long forgotten. They fix their pants, but neither bother with their shirts and he goes willingly when Jared pulls him back against him.
They sit for a while with Jensen able to ignore the chill of the air with Jared’s warm chest along his back. In the soft noises of the night, he lets his eyes slip closed and focuses on their even breathing.
“You gonna fall asleep on me now?” Jared asks with a light bite on his neck.
“Food coma,” Jensen mumbles.
Jared chuckles in his ear. His hand idly strokes Jensen’s stomach, fingers dragging along the slight curves of his abdomen. “Another kind of coma, too?”
“Maybe,” Jensen says with a small smile. “I think I had three scoops of corn casserole.”
“Megan’s almost perfected Grandma’s recipe.”
Jensen nods. “It’s real damned close.”
“Your mama’s biscuits did me in.”
“You did me in,” Jensen says.
Jared rests his mouth to Jensen’s shoulder and Jensen can feel Jared’s lips curve a smile against his skin. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He laughs softly and slides his palms over Jared’s thighs as they bracket him in. He’s sated and doesn’t want to move any time soon, no matter how cold it gets tonight.
The way Jared holds just a little tighter says he has no intention of going anywhere either. So they don’t.
800 words; NC-17
Timestamp to Just Another Saturday Night for
big_heart_june from the holiday timestamp post. She asked for Christmasy snuggles but I decided to make it more post-Thanksgiving ;-)Jensen glances over his shoulder one last time as he slips out the back door. Thanksgiving dinner is just winding down, but the crowd is gearing up with excitement over the football game, kids chasing one another around the house, and most adults drinking more than their share of beer and bourbon. Jensen figures everyone’s gearing up enough they won’t notice he’s gone, but it doesn’t mean he needs noise to follow him on the way out, so he pulls the door closed as quietly as possible.
Jared, on the other hand, jumps off the back porch with a cheerful wail, stomping to the ground when he lands and skipping around to jog backwards and grin at Jensen.
“Shh,” Jensen whispers harshly, even as he smiles and chases after Jared.
They race to the barn and Jared beats him with his headstart, but once inside, Jensen tackles him into bales of hay. He whimpers when sharp ends stick him through his sweater, then he’s distracted when Jared winds his arms around him and turn them over to lightly wrestle.
When they slow down, Jared shuffles away with a meager complaint as he searches in the dark where they’d fallen against the hay. “You made me drop the flask.”
Jensen settles on the ground with layers of dirt and shaved hay beneath him and watches as Jared grins with the flask held triumphantly above his head. Jared slips behind him so they’re both shadowed in the corner where the pale moonlight can’t find them. Hopefully where no one else can either.
They pass the flask between them and quietly drink the warm bourbon Jared had somehow snuck out of the bottle with no one watching. Before too long, Jensen senses the alcohol in him; his limbs feel loose and his brain easy. He shifts to the side so he can see Jared and then a little more so he can lean close and kiss. Once Jared’s tongue meets his, his pulse quickens and he twists a hand in the collar of Jared’s dress shirt to pull him closer.
Jared’s hands settle at Jensen’s sides then slowly move south until his fingers slip over the zipper of Jensen’s jeans. Jensen groans into Jared’s mouth and opens the buttons of Jared’s so he can dip down and kiss along his collar bone. Jared pushes the heel of his hand down on Jensen’s dick and pulls up on the edge of his sweater.
Jensen can’t move fast enough to take it off, and neither can Jared, it seems, to get into his pants. They’re sitting off-center and twisted, but Jensen still works his mouth at the curve of Jared’s shoulder and gets Jared’s pants open, his hand stroking Jared as soon as he can manage. They fumble at these angles, but don’t bother to do anything different, both moving quickly to get each other off.
It doesn’t take much; being with Jared excites him, sneaking around even more so. Jared seems to be the same because he drops his head alongside Jensen’s and whimpers against his ear, now doing his best to stay quiet with the night.
Jensen feels a shock through his body as his orgasm tilts everything. He grunts and bites his lip as he comes over his stomach and Jared’s perfect, perfect hand. That does it for Jared, too, and he follows, winding his other hand around Jensen’s back and pulling him in tight when he comes with a soft moan.
Using his undershirt, Jensen cleans them both off and tosses it to the side with flask long forgotten. They fix their pants, but neither bother with their shirts and he goes willingly when Jared pulls him back against him.
They sit for a while with Jensen able to ignore the chill of the air with Jared’s warm chest along his back. In the soft noises of the night, he lets his eyes slip closed and focuses on their even breathing.
“You gonna fall asleep on me now?” Jared asks with a light bite on his neck.
“Food coma,” Jensen mumbles.
Jared chuckles in his ear. His hand idly strokes Jensen’s stomach, fingers dragging along the slight curves of his abdomen. “Another kind of coma, too?”
“Maybe,” Jensen says with a small smile. “I think I had three scoops of corn casserole.”
“Megan’s almost perfected Grandma’s recipe.”
Jensen nods. “It’s real damned close.”
“Your mama’s biscuits did me in.”
“You did me in,” Jensen says.
Jared rests his mouth to Jensen’s shoulder and Jensen can feel Jared’s lips curve a smile against his skin. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He laughs softly and slides his palms over Jared’s thighs as they bracket him in. He’s sated and doesn’t want to move any time soon, no matter how cold it gets tonight.
The way Jared holds just a little tighter says he has no intention of going anywhere either. So they don’t.
