Thank you to antheia for the insta-beta; written for simplybeing just because. Also, this is obviously fiction, as in wishful thinking, you know?
“I’m too old for Spin the Bottle.”
Jensen’s eyes are bright and wide and Jared smiles, takes a deep draught from his bottle, draining it before putting it down in front of his friend purposefully.
“Really Jared, I’m not even drunk enough…”
But Jensen’s grinning, sprawled on the couch, all loose limbs and with his legs spread wide; a clear invitation to debauchery. Jared smiles big and leans forward in his own seat, pushes the bottle, watches it fall with a thunk, dripping warm beer on the carpet, pointing towards the door. Not that it matters anyway, they’re the only ones in the room and Jared has no intention of kissing the doorknob. Jensen’s eyes light up with amusement and he spreads his legs wider, making the invitation even more evident.
“Fine then. Bring it on pretty boy.”
Jared laughs while he gets up, doesn’t bother going around the table, just climbs on top of it and kicks the bottle off, his eyes intent on Jensen’s mouth. Jensen waits, watches Jared pause and tower over him, but he doesn’t move, just looks up and smirks. Jared shakes himself from his stare and climbs down, then up again on the couch this time. He drops to his knees, astride Jensen’s thighs, his hands landing on the back of the couch, framing Jensen’s head.
Jensen’s still waiting, still trying to play it cool but Jared can see that his eyes are now dark with lust and that his breath is coming faster, as fast as Jared’s own. He doesn’t wait any longer then, drops his shoulders and leans down, licks Jensen’s mouth before kissing him properly, all sloppy tongue and nippy teeth. Both of them are fighting for the lead and Jared bites down on Jensen’s lower lip, greedily swallowing Jensen’s surrendering moan. When they both come back up for air, Jared’s feeling dizzy but Jensen’s looking decidedly less smug and more dishevelled. His voice sounds less assured, though, even as he tries to be teasing still.
“What game are we playing next?”
Jared bites his lip, faking indecision, squirms and grinds down in Jensen’s lap, drawing another moan from his friend as he presses his hard-on against Jensen’s.
“Oh, I don’t know… we could take this somewhere else, somewhere more private, play 7th Heaven maybe?”
Jared immediately knows he’s said something wrong; Jensen stills under him and confusion slowly takes over his face, the lust in his eyes replaced with a questioning look.
“Uh. What… what are you suggesting? You wanna role-play, is that it? Want me to call wardrobe and ask for the priest-iforms?”
Jared frowns, doesn’t understand anything except the glint in Jensen’s eyes that means he’s just made a fool of himself and Jensen is anticipating the many ways he’ll be able to use it to embarrass him for days to come.
“No! I mean… I don’t… What?”
Jensen’s smirking again, less confused and more amused, and Jared’s getting more flustered, squirming awkwardly this time, feeling the burn of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.
“Because I’m telling you Jared, I am not dressing up as Jessica Biel, no matter how hot you think she was in her Blade outfit.”
Jared blushes further, realization finally dawning.
“That’s not… I didn’t mean… I meant the game!"
He’s feeling like a fool now: the erotic atmosphere is spoiled and he just wants to get off Jensen’s lap, maybe crawl into a hole somewhere or get as roaring drunk as possible in the next five minutes; anything to make him forget that he was trying to seduce and only achieved ridicule. Jensen’s not letting him go though, looks at him and finally gets it, falls forward and muffles his laughter against Jared’s stomach. He’s laughing and laughing, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably, his mirth making Jared feel even more humiliated.
“Oh! Oh! Man! 7 minutes in Heaven, not 7th Heaven! And here I thought you were being a kinky bastard!”
And yes, that’s what Jared meant, but mostly he meant to be seductively funny and sexy and that’s certainly not how it feels now. He pushes at Jensen’s shoulders and climbs off his lap, drops next to him on the couch, slumped and pouting. Jensen’s still laughing hard, wiping tears from his eyes. By the time he finally calms down enough to look at Jared without losing it again, Jared’s already grabbed a fresh bottle of beer and is pointedly not looking anywhere but straight at the TV. The mood is ruined—Jared’s mood is ruined too for that matter—and if Jared’s not going to get any then he’s definitely going to ignore Jensen. He can admit he made a pathetic fool of himself but he’s not about to willingly submit himself to his friend’s teasing and laugh along.
He’s so intent on not paying attention to Jensen that it takes him by surprise when Jensen’s hand drops to his lap, palm warm against the still sizable bulge in his jeans. When Jensen’s fingers start kneading Jared gasps and looks up to find him holding a playing card in his other hand, his eyes full of mischief as he presses his fingers harder against Jared’s fly.
“So. How about we play Suck and Blow instead?