Citizenship & Raspberry Jam

For cherrymmm, because she knows how to hit me where it hurts

Title: Game in a Bottle

Rating: Adult

Pairing: Jensen/Jared

Summary:  Based off recent con shenanigans. The green-eyed monster gets a hold of Jensen and he decides he’s had enough.

Author’s Note:   not beta’d beyond spell/grammar check; please forgive me

Disclaimer:  This is all a damned dirty lie.  More’s the pity.

Rubbing a hand down the length of his face Jensen focuses on his reflection in the mirror.  He has no clue how he got here.  To this place where he's living this double-triple-secret life. Every nerve in his body is taught and quivering, strained to breaking.  He hates these conventions.  He's just not this guy.  He's not the guy who can let seemingly innocuous comments about his "true" feelings for Jared run off his back like water.  He's not the calm and patient man who smiles tolerantly when yet another "fan" brings up the topic of "slash" and how does he feel about the brothers being written that way?  Most of all, he's not the buddy who can sit idly by and let his best friend romp and tease and have a bromance with another actor without being bothered by it.

Jensen is none of these things, because all those are lies.  What he is, what he truly is, deep down in the places he doesn't show anyone is jealous.  He's envious of those people who can just live their lives without extended and exegetic commentary on every word, look and motion that they makes.  He's resentful of those folks who can be in open and honest relationships without any fear of being judged for being "wrong" or outside the norm.  He's nearly green with the rolling in his gut when Jared and Misha manage to be so comfortable in their own skins and project EXACTLY who they are with no repercussions--if anything they receive adulation and praise for their antics.  And while they revel in their true joy of being honest with each other, Jensen lets his jealousy twist inside him until it becomes an agonizing pain.

Later, when Jared arrives at his room with a case of Corona and a lazy grin, Jensen doesn't meet his eyes, just swings the door open and stands back.  He'd asked Danneel if he could have a few hours alone with Jared when they'd been lazing by the pool earlier.  She understood.  They’d never talked about it, what Jensen felt for Jared, but he knew that Danny knew.  She had said yes even though he could hear the underlying sadness in her voice which she tried to smooth away with the gentle caress of her thumb over his hand.

"Damn hard to find this shit in these parts, Jen.  We've got to break out and start sampling the local brew at some point."  Jared grabbed a bottle and twisted off the top as he sprawled into the easy chair across from the TV.

Jensen ignores this and asks, "Did you get limes?"

"Ayuh," and he shifts a bit in the chair to shove one hand in his pocket, bringing out two limes in his huge grip.

Parting his hands in an invitation to throw, Jensen waits for Jared to toss them his way.

Shaking his head, Jared says, "Naw, come and get 'em."  His eyes are twinkling and his mouth is lifted at the corner, teasing Jensen--goading Jensen.

Jensen closes his eyes briefly and inhales, steeling himself, then steps forward and reaches out.  "I'm not in the mood Jared.  Just give me the damn limes."

Brow furrowing, Jared leans forward slightly and places them into Jensen's hand.  "What's going on man?"

Shaking his head he moves back to the bar, "Nothing.  I'm just...drained.  It's been a long couple of days."  He begins searching through the drawer for a knife.

"Bullshit."

Jensen looks up abruptly, Jared's eyes firmly on his face as he takes a long swallow of his beer, lips wrapped around the edge of the bottle neck, throat working under days of scruffy beard. 

"You've been like this for a while now--all pissy and guarded,” he stops for a beat and thinks, “Pretty much ever since we got back from the con in LA."  Lifting his long legs onto the ottoman, Jared crosses his boots and leaned back farther in the chair, looking for all the world like he didn't know that he was crawling under Jensen's skin with his comments.

Jensen dropped his gaze back to the open drawer and selected a paring knife from the collection there, closed it and began slicing the lime into quarters and then eighths and then each wedge in half at the midpoint, giving him 32 little bits of lime for his beer.  When he finished he placed the knife into the sink, rinsed his hands and wiped them on the stack of paper towels by the sink edge. 

When he finally looked up, Jared had drained the rest of his beer and sat casually twirling the bottle between his fingers where it was balanced on the arm of the chair.  Jared was still staring at him, clearly expecting a response of some kind.

Gripping the counter edge, and inhaling deeply, Jensen said, "I can't do this anymore Jared.  When I get back to Vancouver in the fall, I'll be moving out, getting my own place."

He hadn't known precisely how Jared would react, but a head tilt and an appraising look were not high on the list of expected reactions. 

"What do you mean Jensen?"

Sighing, he gestured to Jared and then to himself, "This.  Us.  Whatever this is.  I can't do it anymore.  It's over."

Jared still didn't make a motion other than to shake his head and squint his eyes saying, "I don't get it."

Frustrating bastard.  Jensen walked around the bar and came to stand at Jared's side, looking down at his...friend.  "I need for us to be friends Jared.  You're the best friend I have.  One of the best I've EVER had, but I can't, I can't...you..."  He looked up at the ceiling as if the words he needed were there, "Today, you and Misha.  I can't do that Jared.  I wish I could, but I can't.  And I..."  he broke off again, swallowing, "I love you man, but I can't be that."

"I don't think I'm on the same page here Ackles," Jared had shifted position and was now leaning forward on the edge of the chair, feet on the floor, but still looking at Jensen intently, "I don't know what it is that you think Misha has that you don't, or what exactly it is that we're doing that you can't.  Help me out here, man."

"Fuck."  Jensen huffed and stalked to the other side of the room.  "Open.  I can't be open.  I can't tease you, I can't banter with the fans, and I can't even physically touch you without setting off a firestorm of speculation for Christ’s sake!"

Jared was still staring at him.  Only now it was as if Jensen had suddenly sprouted another arm, or a second head, then an earsplitting grin shot across his face, "Good googly-moogly Ackles.  You're jealous!"

Whipping around to face him, Jensen practically snarled, “And what if I am?”

The taught anger in Jensen’s voice was lost on Jared as he was currently doubled over and pounding on the ottoman, howling with laughter.  Eventually, Jared leaned back in the chair, holding his stomach and wiping the tears from his eyes.  “Oh man dude.  Oh man.”

“What the fuck do you find so funny Jared?”  He took a step forward, crossed his arms and set his jaw. Jensen was even more angry now, he wanted to punch his costar, kick him, anything to make the amusement he found over Jensen’s confession of his roiling emotions stop.

Before Jensen could blink, Jared was looming over him, completely engulfing his personal space.  “You have no idea, do you?”

Suddenly Jared’s massive hand was cupping the back of Jensen’s head, spanning almost from temple to temple as he brought his lips down in a crushing kiss.  For seconds Jensen didn’t respond.  He couldn’t.  The synapses in his brain had completely stopped firing. Then the heat from Jared’s body began to soak into his clothes, warming his torso and the firm pressure of Jared’s slightly parted mouth on his began to register and Jensen was lost.  He inhaled deeply smelling a warm note of cologne, a softer note of dried sweat and finally underneath it, the musk that was Jared. His body stopped listening to his brain’s commands and started working on instinct.

Jensen wrapped one arm along Jared’s back, cupping his shoulder and encased Jared’s waist with the other, pressing them even closer together as he parted his mouth to receive Jared’s kisses.  Then he was the aggressor as he sought out the depths of Jared’s mouth, feeling their tongues twist together, pulling the flat of his tongue along the ridges of the taller man’s mouth, then tangling tongues together again from Jared’s mouth to his and back again. 

Jared’s hands were anything but still as he moved them from cupping Jensen’s head to running his thumbs across Jensen’s cheekbones, then down his back and over his ass, pulling Jensen close, almost encasing him in Jared’s head, forcing him to feel the growing hardness in Jared’s jeans, pressing that hard bulge against Jensen’s own.

Jensen had no idea how long they stood there kissing, but it was long enough to make his pulse pound in his ears, his lungs short of breath, his legs slightly wobbly and his vision blurred.

He looked at Jared for a few quiet moments while his body attempted to re-regulate itself. Bastard was grinning at him again.  Except this time there was a definite “cat-who-got-the-cream” quality to it. 

Just to make it stop, that stupid smugness, Jensen grabbed Jared’s face and pulled him  back down, claiming his lips, nipping at them, licking at them, and then moving down his stupid scruffy jaw until he reached a spot on Jared’s neck that elicited a harshly whispered curse and proceeded to suck and lave the hell out of it.  What Jensen didn’t pay enough attention to were Jared’s hands.

Jared’s hands always did have a propensity for wandering…onto Jensen’s plate for his fries…onto Jensen’s controller to randomly press buttons when Jensen was kicking his ass at Guitar hero…onto Jensen’s paper in the morning…onto…

“Oh Christ!”  He came away from Jared’s neck with a start and stared down between them.  Somehow, Jensen had failed to notice Jared unzipping both their pants and not only freeing his own cock from the confines of clothing, but now he was sliding his hand down Jensen’s abdomen and underneath the band of his boxers.  When Jared’s long fingers found his dick a low stretched groan escaped him.  He felt hypnotized by the head of Jared’s cock trapped between them, head slick and glossy, flushed with blood.  And then his own dick was alongside it, Jared’s hand wrapped around them both.  Jared’s breath hitched and then his forehead was touching Jensen’s as their eyes focused on their cocks firmly gripped in Jared’s hand.  When Jared’s thumb rubbed over the top of Jensen’s cockhead and then his own Jensen nearly lost his load right there: he could feel the pulse in Jared’s cock running counterpoint to his own, the pleasurable burning warmth of thin, taut skin against his own.  And then Jared moved his hand again, stroking them both, up and down and up and down.  Rising on the balls of his feet, Jensen surged upward in conjunction with the strokes, willing himself not to come, not to lose it so soon.  He gripped Jared’s waist, feeling the solid bone beneath muscle, trying to keep himself from flying apart.

He came almost as soon as the words started tumbling out of Jared’s mouth in a low filthy rasp, “Fuck yeah, Jen.  Been wanting this, wanting you, so long.  Touch you.  Feel your cock.  Kiss your fucking mouth, make you mine…”

Unable to control it any longer, his orgasm surged from him, coating Jared’s fist and their cocks, spattering against Jared’s shirt, dripping down onto both of their pants.  If anything, it only got better as Jared continued his strokes, adding a bit of a twist on the down stroke, moving faster now that there was less friction due to the spunk speeding his way.  Jensen watched, lip firm between his teeth determined to watch Jared spill too.  The oversensitization was starting when Jared’s hips bucked forward and he threw his head back, exposing tendons and the secret skin of his neck as he shouted his release with Jensen’s name.

If it hadn’t been for the lassitude creeping into his muscles and the fact that his dick was hanging out, come drying on his clothes and skin, he might have thought he imagined what had just happened.  But Jared’s own soft cock, intense gaze and kiss-swollen lips were an outside reminder that this HAD happened.

Jared started tucking himself away , “I will NEVER have with Misha what I have with you Jensen.”  He moved back into Jensen’s personal space.  “I don’t want to.  You are my best friend.   You are my co-star.  You are my roommate.  You are the only man outside my family that I love.”  He stops for a second and corrects, “Except for Chad, but I definitely don’t love my family or Chad the way I love you.”

Jensen found himself emulating Jared’s speculative gaze from earlier, “You love me, huh?”

Jared punched him on the shoulder, “Duh.”

For the first time that day, Jensen smiled.  A real, genuine, unguarded smile. 

Raising his eyebrows Jared asked, “You still moving out when we get back to Canada.”

Turning, Jensen started setting his own self to rights and made his way back to the bar for a beer and a lime.  “Nah, you’re stuck with me now Gigantor.”

“Awesome!”  Jensen saw Jared moving to the bed from the corner of his eye, “Bring me a beer when you come.”

Smiling Jensen responded, “Lazy bastard.”

“And you love me!”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.”