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Title: everybody's got their own definition of just their kind
Author: technosage
Series: break loose ranch; precedes: busting through them gates; fills in riding shotgun to everything that’s on my mind.
Characters/Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, Chad Michael Murray, Christian Kane.
Rating/Warnings: NC17
Word Count: 9227
Disclaimer: I made it all up.
Summary: Jared's a dude ranch owner-operator, Jensen was on Supernatural but it washed out in a year, so he's singin' back-up for Chris and Steve and finding his way. Chad drags Jared to Kane concert. the music's not bad, better than he thought, but he finds something he likes much better.

The thing about living in Texas is, you're supposed to like country music, and it's not that Jared doesn't. He just prefers classic rock, blues, or even rockabilly, is all. The sounds of country work fine for him, but the achy-breaky drink your booze and kick my dog lyrics don't match up with life like he knows it. Fact is, while Jared might rather ride a horse than drive a 'Vette, or fuck one of the boys than the teased-up, made-up, high-heeled Texas blondes making eyes at him from across the smoke-filled wood and belt-buckle-trophy bar? His life is more Brady than Brokeback.

And Chad listens to eighties pop, boy bands, and Justin-fucking-Timberlake for chrissakes.

Eyeing his best friend, Jared tips back his brew. "Tell me again why we're here?"

"Girls love these guys, Big Jay." Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Chad waves his smoke hand toward the stage with so much force his rickety-ass stool rocks and Jared has to steady it with his foot. "It's like he's got sex hormones or some kinda shit."

"Pheromones," comes a wry retort in a whiskey-raw, smoke-burnt voice that makes Jared's toes want to curl in his Tony Llamas. Jesusfuck.

Chad pushes back his hat, because yes, he is actually the walking stereotype of Curly the Ranch-hand, and turns to size the guy up. He's blocking Jared's view of the body, but if it matches the green-gold eyes rolling in cynical humor or the prettiest pout never to suck Jared's dick, Jared knows what he wants to do tonight.

And it's not Double-D Debbie winking and patting his ass every time she walks by with a tray of MGDs.

"—go sticking your pretty face in other men's conversations, dude?" Chad's demanding when the first flush of heat passes.

Green Eyes swirls his whiskey in his glass like he's thinking, weighing the possibility of a fight, but there's not gonna be one, because Jared just got a look at his hands. Christ, the way his fingers spread to cradle the glass is pure fucking poetry.

"Nah," Green Eyes says finally, and it's dry like west Texas summer. Jared almost hears the dickwad at the end of it, and maybe he should be pissed, but Chad is a dickwad, so, whatever. "Chris's m'boy is all, just caught my attention."

"Taking regular advantage of his pheromones, pretty boy?" The sneer has Jared's fist twitching, because Chad's just being a dumbass. Not like he doesn't do guys when he feels like it.

Instead of punching him, Jared shoves his stool, and Chad almost chokes on the beer that spills too fast into his mouth. Wiping up the slop on his sleeve, he shoots Jared a what the fuck? over his shoulder. Jared just open his eyes wide, eyebrows arching, head tilting in the expression Chad knows damned well means quit it, bitch.

"Ho-kay." Sneer becomes smirk, and Chad half-stands, half-falls off his stool. He wipes his beer-splattered hands on his dusty-ass jeans – he could wear new ones out to the bar, it wouldn't kill him – and gives the new guy a you hurt him, I break you once-over. Which is pretty damned ridiculous because Chad's a pussy. Then he jerks his head back toward Jared. "S'here's my boy Jay-red and lucky for you he's a sucker for a pretty pink pout."

Jared wants to lay his head on his arms and hide the flush that's warming his cheeks, but Chad claps him on the shoulder. "I won't wait up." And with sly wink, Chad is, thank Christ, gone.

Thank Christ, but it leaves him alone with Green Eyes, who, as it turns out, is six-feet of broad chest, toned arms, and a tight ass that Jared's dick thinks would be just the place to spend the evening. Jared's upstair's brain is only a few blinks behind. Thing is, Green Eyes looks to be thinking something similar, but Jared's learned to make damned sure before acting on the heat that's gnawing his belly.

He ducks his head, letting his bangs fall in his eyes, then rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. Those sly green-gold eyes track and darken, and Jared's starting to have a real good feeling about tonight. "Um, hey." Jared points the bottom of his beer in the direction Chad wandered off to. "Sorry about that. He's an asshole until you get to know him, then he's just a dipshit."

Green Eyes snorts, but there's a flash of something bitter in his eyes, and it doesn't belong there. It just doesn't, which, whoa, where did that thought come from?

"Hope you'll forgive me saying I'm not looking to extend the acquaintance."

"Dude," Jared says with a bright grin. "He's my best friend and there are days I don't want to extend the acquaintance." Today, as it turns out, isn't going to be one of them. He wouldn't be here at all if not for Chad, and mocking him beats the hell out of you prefer Quarters or Mustangs? for an ice-breaker.

Especially since it provokes a laugh and Green Eyes lifting his glass to him. "Jensen Ackles, occasional back-up singer for Christian Kane."

Man. Jared just bets the boy sings like a broken heart. "Jared Padalecki, dude ranch owner-operator. Lemme buy you another to make up for the dipshit."

"M'not singing tonight," Jensen agrees, and if his drawl isn't quite as thick as Jared's, he's definitely Texas, no lie.

Jared eyes up Debbie who's on her way by, lips puckered in a blown kiss. "Whatever he's drinking and another of these, Deb."

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks."

At that, Jensen smiles real slow. "Sweet Cheeks Padalecki. Hell of a mouthful." His gaze rivets to Jared's, defiant challenge plain when he drains the rest of his whiskey.

Jared hooks his ankle around Chad's empty stool and drags it out from between them. Easy like Jensen's a skittish colt, he drawls, "So call me Jared."

~ * ~

Jensen's not much of a talker, but he listens good. Way better than Chad. Half the time Jared thinks he doesn't give a shit what Jared's saying as long as he keeps paying his salary and giving him a place to live. Which isn't really fair, because Chad's been a dickwad since they met, but sometimes Jared gets tired of talking at him instead of to him. So it makes a guy like Jensen -- who tilts his head and listens for the feel of what he's saying, not just the words, and who doesn't talk much, but when he does, it counts – a shot of Jack after a longass day.

They'd migrated to a table upfront by the stage a couple rounds back, and now Jared's slouching down in his seat, feet up on the one across from him. He's talking about Quarter horses and Mustangs, after all, but it doesn't feel forced or like the same tired bar talk.

Jensen's a Mustang guy, but not a romantic about it – even if he did admit to watching the Discovery channel show about Cloud, Stallion of the Rockies. Which is fine and only makes Jared like him more, since he's got the DVD in the collection in the hand-carved wood armoire in his living room. Instead he talks lineages, the Spanish Arabians and their endurance, the Appaloosa's and the Paiyute Painted Ponies and how they mixed and evolution chose the strongest.

"True." Jared thumbs the back of the warming bottle of beer, catching the condensation and smoothing it over the glass. A couple rounds back, he also slowed down drinking, 'cause this thing is gonna happen between them tonight, and Jared wants to remember.

"But Quarters are bred for cow smarts, speed and maneuverability, so even if the Mustangs are more fit overall, you gotta admit that a Quarter makes a better cowhorse."

Round and round goes the whiskey in the bottom of Jensen's glass. After a minute he looks up, shrugs. "Yeah. Sure. But if it's smarts you're after, you want an Arab."

Jared opens his mouth to argue that, when a hand falls on Jensen's shoulder. The hand is attached to a guy he vaguely recognizes as the one they're here to see, Christian Kane. Not bad, and if Jensen hadn't been here, Jared might've thought about it, but Jensen makes him look…plain.

"What've we got here, Jenny?" Kane's voice rolls out, thick and low with laid-back humor, and from the way Jensen doesn't flinch at the nickname or move away from his touch, Jared would bet his best broodmare they have a history.

His gut twists at the thought that maybe he's misjudged, but Jensen's gaze stays easy and steady on Jared. "Chris. This here's Jared, owns a dude ranch just out of town. Came to see the show."

And saw somethin' he liked much better.

He takes a short sip of beer, more to wet his lips gone dry from watching Jensen's mouth wrap around his name, while Kane sizes him up. It's the same I got his back Chad gave Jensen earlier, only somehow coming from Kane, he believes it. This guy would kick his ass if things went a way Jensen doesn't like, but that's fine, 'cause Jared's pretty damned sure he knows what Jensen wants, and that he can give it to him.

So he puts out his hand, not waiting for Kane, smiles, and it's not Sunday after church with mama, but don't y'all worry 'bout a thing, y'hear. "Jared Padalecki. Can't say as I'm a big fan of your music, since I've never heard it, but Jensen says you're real good."

It's a risk, but it's worth it to see Jensen snort his liquor and Kane's eyes widen, taken aback. But he laughs, flashing white teeth, and shakes Jared's hand strong. "You got brass ones, boy, I like that." His foot's resting on the rung of Jensen's chair, casually possessive, and between that and the 'boy', Jared's tempted to bridle, but he catches something in Jensen's eyes, maybe in the set of his shoulders that makes him hold off. "Guess I'm all right." Kane crosses his arms over his denim-clad chest, loose. "Not Justin Timberlake, mind you, but all right."

"You serious, man? Timberlake's a jumped up Harry Connick, Jr. wannabe," Jared finds himself saying, and Jensen laughs outright, which makes it worth admitting to liking a guy who plays songs from kids' musicals as jazz standards.

"Not one for sucking up are you, son?" Kane smiles and Jared thinks maybe the guy's all right, even if he's standing a little close to the guy Jared's leaving this party with. A small shake of his head, and Kane tells him, "Timberlake's got a hell of a set of pipes on him, and he can act, too, no mistake, but your boy Harry, he's something else, you're right about that."

"Timberlake's a—"

"Star, man, he's a star." Appearing out of nowhere with Double-D Debbie in tow, Chad smacks the back of Jared's head. "How come you didn't tell me you were meeting Kane, Big Jay? I'd have come right over."

Jared's eyes are rolling in his head and he shoots both Jensen and Kane a jesus christ, I'm sorry, but what can you do look, then shrugs. "Christian Kane, this is Chad Michael Murray, my ranch-hand, occasionally better known as 'Shut your yap, dipstick'. He and Jensen have already…crossed paths. The lady here is Debbie—" Think, think, she's got an actual name, Jared, you ass. Uhhh…oh, right. "Ellsworth."

No one notices that it takes him too long to get Debbie's name out, since they're all too busy laughing at Chad sputtering. "Nice. I come over to tell you I've got my own ride—" he adds a gratuitous-for-anyone-but-Chad leer at Debbie before continuing. "I'm gonna leave your ass m'truck, and this is how you repay me?" Even Debbie's laughing, which just goes to show she's already figured out that being Chad's friend, lover, whatever, just means you get to laugh harder and longer when he's an ass.

"How do you shorten that, now, son? Chad, or Dipstick?" Kane's eyes go wide and innocent at the last word, yet his smile is anything but.

"Chad," Jared answers for him. It's one thing for him to joke, but this is different and Chad's his boy. Still, because Jensen's looking uncomfortable, shifting his whiskey glass from hand to hand, Jared grins. "Or 'Shut Your'. 'Dipstick's' a last name."

Everyone laughs again, and Jensen's green-gold eyes go warm for a second, and it makes the whole stupid joke worth it. Jared cranes his head around to look at Chad, directs his gaze over to Jensen, then gives Chad the quiet sorry, man slow blink they've perfected over years of never actually saying please, thank you, I'm sorry, and whatever you need.

Chad, for once, isn't a dipshit and keeps his mouth shut except to be polite. "Yeah, nice to meet you, too."

And apparently Debbie's never heard of Kane, or she's more interested in getting into Chad's raggedy jeans to care, because she just nods and smiles. After that, no one seems to know what to say. Chad drags Debbie off with an awkward "See ya back at the ranch," and Kane takes a swig off the beer Jensen's not drinking.

"Set's starting in five. You joining us, Jenny?"

Jensen doesn't look at Chris, even though Jared can tell he's aware of the guy's hand on the back of his chair from the way he's leaning a little forward. His gaze is all for Jared, full of questions, and that hint of bitter cynicism he saw before.

He's got no idea what the question is, but the answer's simple. Casual, he lets his legs fall open 'til his knee brushes Jensen's thigh. I'm not going anywhere. Do what you want to, he thinks, but he's not expressing an opinion. Something about this is making Jensen act like a horse passing a sunning rattler, and he's not interested in spooking the colt, or – he glances at Kane – waking the snake.

Jensen breathes out, a long easy sigh. "Yeah. Think I will."

It's Kane who shoots Jared a look then, eyebrow arching, head cocking in a hint of a salute. He's got no idea what he's done, but whatever it is, Kane approves. He steps away, leaving Jensen and Jared alone again, and Jared's just gotta ask. "Thought you weren't singin' tonight?"

Jensen spreads his fingers across the table 'til the tips graze Jared's forearm. His teeth worry the corner of his bottom lip, eyelashes dip low and fan his cheeks.

Christjesus. Heat arcs between them, so electric Jared can almost see the jagged blue streaks.

Jensen stands, and his voice, when it comes, is edged with tension. "You mind?"

Couple that with the odd look from Kane, and it seems pretty important. Jared gets how small things can be significant. Not wearing a tie to Sandy's best friend's wedding hadn't seemed big at the time – no one wore ties in Texas, and he thought she'd understood that. But they'd broken up over it, and, instead of moving to LA to try out acting, Jared had stayed in Texas and opened the Break Loose.

This is the first chance he's had, so Jared takes it, rakes his gaze down Jensen's long, lean body, lingering where the seam of his jeans strains over a telltale bulge, then brings his head up slow. Giving Jensen a heated, oh yeah, baby grin, Jared settles back into his seat. "Break a leg, man."

The gold in Jensen's eyes seems to catch fire on his smile, and Jared finds himself wondering whether Jensen likes flapjacks or waffles with his coffee.


Shit, yeah, the boy can sing.

And maybe Jared's none too fond of country music, but Kane's not as achy-breaky as all that, and when it is…when it is, Jensen's voice in the background burns like grandaddy's raw moonshine.

Jared sits by himself, drinking just enough to keep Trixie, his new cocktail waitress, from scowling. After the first song, he drags his chair around the front of the table so he's got his back to it, one arm up along it, fingers tapping to the beat. His ankle rests on his knee, and his other hand sets light on his thigh.

After five years around horses, he's always aware of what his body's doing. He can't help it, but something about listening to Jensen sing has him hyperaware like he can feel each muscle group relaxing into the sound.

Jensen's wrapped up in the music, but between songs, he sucks on a cold one, and every time he sets it down by his feet, he checks to be sure Jared's still there. And every time their gazes connect, Jared's dick stiffens. Hard to tell with Jensen up there on the stage, but Jared's thinking him too, because of the way he shifts, spreading his knees wide. Or maybe that's just an invitation, since the second time he catches Jared looking, his smile turns smoky-seductive.


The Break Loose brings in a lot of LA's pretty people, and Jared's fucked more than a few of them. But Jensen? Jensen beats them all to hell. It's more than his looks. It's the way his fingers spread over the guitar strings, and the cock to his wrist. The way he stares at his hands, even though Jared's sure he doesn't need to. And the way when he glances up through eyelashes that wouldn't look out of place on a girl, his expression's almost unguarded for an instant before he brings the veil back down.

And when he signals to Kane, jerking his thumb towards his chest, Kane looks straight off the stage at Jared. In his eyes and his posture, Jared reads a warning clearer than the dry, skin-crawling rattle of a pissed-off diamondback. Kane's protective of Jensen, Jensen's acting strange, and Kane figures its Jared's fault.

Maybe it is, but when the music starts up again and Jensen pours out the most honest version of "Turn the Page" he's ever heard, Jared could give a fuck what Christian Kane thinks. At the moment, he's a hell of a lot more concerned about how he's gonna convince Jensen one night's not gonna be enough.

His skin stretches so tight, he feels pulled like salt water taffy. Air's so hot it sears his lungs. His mouth is dry, his dick is hard, and every time he tries to drag his gaze off Jensen's bent head, he finds himself back there again thinking about how the sweat from the spotlights will taste when he sucks purple bruises to the surface of Jensen's tanned, freckled shoulder.

If Jensen's acting weird, he's not the only one. Chad would say Jared's being a freak, like he does every foaling season when Jared sleeps in the barn. Jared can't help it, he's wanted a lot of people before, but he's never felt like this. Like if Jensen comes down off the stage and keeps on walking past him, he'll spend the next six years jerking off to fantasies about the fuck that didn't happen.

So when the set finishes, and Jensen puts down his guitar, Jared doesn't care how desperate or obvious or stalkerish it seems, he's up on his feet standing at the edge of the low stage. Kane starts toward him, but Jensen sees him and puts a restraining hand on his friend's arm. They exchange a look, Kane shakes his head, and Jensen gives him a mulish glare that definitely reads as back the fuck off, man, I can handle this.

Jared's stomach flips and doesn’t stop flipping until Jensen walks over to him. His arm's up, hand working at the back of his neck, and he's not quite meeting Jared's gaze. "So?"

It's obviously important to Jensen what Jared thinks, but Jared feels like Jensen's asking a whole more than whether he liked the song. And right then Jared doesn't care who's watching or that they just met tonight, he's gotta touch Jensen.

Eyes heavy-lidded, Jared smiles up through his bangs, reaching out at the same time. His thumb brushes over Jensen's knuckles, and there it is again, the shock of skin on skin and the current arcing between them. "So…" Want makes his tongue thick, lowers his voice and softens it. "I like. I like a lot, Jen."

The smile lifting the corners of Jensen's mouth halts at the shortening of his name. There's a flicker of something wild and hot in his eyes, then his expression shutters, mouth flattening out, and Jared wants to kick himself.

What possessed him to call the man by a pet name when they've known each other maybe four hours?

"Jensen," Jared corrects quietly, just barely audible over the screeches and shuffle of the band packing up. Jensen hasn't pulled his hand out of reach, so Jared presses his thumb against it, smoothes back and forth over the knuckles.

A low, rough laugh parts Jensen's lips as he hops down from the stage. "Just don't call me 'Jenny' and we're good." His wry tone scrapes over Jared's nerves; it's bitter and self-deprecating, when Jared wants to hear it sex-drenched raw.

He crowds right into Jensen's space, leaning closer 'til they're touching along the fronts of their thighs. Lowering his head and his voice, he drawls slow, filthy, across Jensen's ear. "How 'bout we get outta here and I show you just how good we are?"

When he steps back, dropping his hand away and giving Jensen room to choose, those green-gold eyes go dark. Pink tongue wets pinker lips, and Jensen blows out an unsteady breath. He blinks once, slow, then kinda nods. Jared's heart trip-hammers in his chest, and his dick, well, his dick does what it's been doing since he first laid eyes on Jensen. So when Jensen murmurs, "Yeah, okay. Yeah," it's six kinds of a miracle and a seventh on Sunday that he doesn't bust the seam on his jeans.


It's not until he's hitting his blinker to make the right out of the parking lot onto Highway 173 that Jared realizes they haven't talked about where they're going. Never occurred to him, since he's been thinking about Jensen spread wide and sweat-slicked on his navy blue sheets since about two minutes after Chad left them the first time. He doesn't figure it'll be a problem, but his mama raised him to say please and thank you and ask after other folks' needs.

"Ranch is about fifteen minutes from here, figured we'd go there." His voice sounds scratchy-hoarse but it's Jensen and not too many cigarettes or talking over the noise making it husky. He slants Jensen a look, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight, because he doesn't want to fuck Jensen in some cheap motel like a three-beer queer and an ass on rent. "That work for you?"

Jensen's eyes widen a bit. His expression is so open and vulnerable Jared has the urge to ask him what happened, but then Jensen takes a sudden interest in his own hand stretched over his thigh. "Yeah, that's fine."

Muttering a rough curse under his breath, Jared flips off the blinker then shoves a hand through his hair. "Look, Jensen, if you don't want—"

"No, man, it's cool."

Jared shakes his head. Jensen's more skittish than a six-month-old stud colt and Jared's been down that road before. Besides, he likes Jensen Ackles. He doesn't want to be the guy Jensen hates for taking advantage of a few too many drinks in a smoky bar. "Not good enough."

"Jesus. You're worse than Chris." His voice is harsh, but Jared's pretty sure he's not mad.

He's also pretty sure they're not leaving the parking lot 'til Jensen gives him more than a breezy 'it's cool'. In the bar, it'd been enough but now that they're about to do this, he wants a solid yes. So he shifts in his seat, ignoring the pinch of tight jeans, and arches an eyebrow.

"Jesus," Jensen says again, only this time it comes out low and soft, like Jared's lapping at the head of his dick. "Jared." Their gazes lock, Jensen's full-dark and glazing. "I want."

Ignoring the surge of triumph in his gut, Jared turns his blinker on again, pulls out into the highway. "Gonna tell me what that was about?" He's pushing it, he knows he is, but something about Jensen makes him want to open him up with more than his fingers.

"What what was about?"

Chad calls it his bitchface, and it must be working, because Jensen's fingers flick out off his thighs in appeasement.

"Surprised, is all."

It's late in the year for deer, but there are always coyotes; Jared watches the road, spares Jensen a sideways glance from under his lashes. "About?"

Jensen blows out a sigh. "You just don't seem like the type."

The type, the hell does that mean? His hands tighten on the steering wheel, voice deepens to a warning rasp. "You thought maybe we'd blow each other behind the bar, go our separate ways?"

"What? No, Jesus, Jared nothing like that. You just don't seem like the type to ask. Toppy as hell, y'know?"

True, he was, especially with a guy like Jensen who talked a good game but underneath it seemed as likely to bolt as anything. "That a problem?"

Jensen's real quiet for a minute, and Jared just keeps driving. When he answers, "No," it's so low it's like he can't believe he's saying it.

"Jensen, be sure, all right? Because when I get you in my bed, I'm gonna suck you dry, then fuck you wide and hard 'til we can't, either of us, remember our names. And I need that to be more than just 'okay', 'cuz I'm pretty sure I'm gonna wanna do it again tomorrow." He never takes his eyes off the road, and he's all casual drawl and Texas-friendly about it, but his blood thrums so hard against too-tight skin, he can feel it vibrating.

Jensen, on the other hand, goes shock-still. He turns away to watch whatever he can see out the window in the dark.

The current runs live and hot between them in the almost-silence of gravel crunching under tires. After a minute, Jensen meets his gaze in the rearview mirror. "Guess it's a good thing I don't have anywhere to be for a few days, then."

Jared breaks with a wide open grin, and Jensen shakes his head, laughs, but sounds surprised to be doing it.


Jensen whistles low and dips his head in a regular cowboy salute, when Jared pushes open the door to his house – not the ranch house where he greets guess to the Break Loose, but his house off to the side of the property tucked away behind a screen of cottonwoods. Jared's cheeks warm. He's not sure whether it's the approval or the way Jensen purses his lips.

Either way, they've got a steady gaze-lock going now and both of them would be smiling if Jensen weren't licking his mouth, and Jared wasn't chewing at his. It's good, relaxed and easy, and Jared wants to keep it that way, right up until Jensen's mouth goes slack with pleasure. Or at least until Jared covers it with his own, which better be soon, because goddamn he wants to fuck Jensen.

Lifting a shoulder, he searches for something to say that isn't I wanna hear you scream my name and comes up with: "Normally I'd give you the full tour. Bore you with the details of which foal I sold to decorate which room, how Mom and Sandy fought over the colors for the paint but Megan won, what Mike said to Tommy about the hitching post in the living room." Deliberate and as easy as it can be with his dick pulsing against his zipper, Jared rubs his chest along Jensen's shoulder when he reaches around him to shut and lock the door. Horses move toward gentle pressure, and so do most people.

Jensen's no exception, thank Christ. He turns into Jared, aligning their hips, and heat rolls between, low, tight, expectant, like the fifteen minutes before a summer storm.

"I'm thinking you'll have to settle for the abbreviated—"

"Jared." Jensen's lips twitch, eyes flashing.


"Anyone ever mention you talk too much?" He hooks his fingers through Jared's belt loops and pulls Jared's hips tight to his.

Laughter bubbles up, the relief of it almost as strong as the ache of having his dick trapped against Jensen's belly, and Jensen's against his thigh. Jesus. Jared knows from crushes and this one has all the makings of a doozy.

He dips his head, grins down at Jensen. "Uh, yeah. Chad. All the time. But he's one to talk, once he gets going—"

"Jay-red." It's a seductive purr Jared's sure he'll be hearing in his dreams the rest of his life.

Without thought, his hand comes up to curl under Jensen's chin. Thumb rubs over that sin on Sunday mouth. "Wanna fuck you, Jen, wanna fuck you so bad I can't think straight."

"So show me the bedroom." Jensen smirks, then his tongue flicks out against the tip of Jared's thumb.

His gut clenches, hips bucking like a teenager's -- holy Christ, Jensen's the sexiest fucking thing ever -- and Jared's done. Fingers sliding into Jensen's hair, Jared ducks his head to press their mouths together.

Jensen stiffens, shoves at him. "The fuck?"

Jared blinks, tries to figure out what went wrong between show me the bedroom and his lips touching Jensen's. "Kissing you."

"Jesus." Jensen steps back toward the door, pushing a hand through his hair, and his words are harsh, shaky, when they come. "Quit treating me like a goddamned girl who's gonna break if you take what you want. You don't gotta kiss me, Jared, just get that big dick in my ass, all right?"

Jared stares. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? I know I don't gotta kiss you. I wanna. Been thinking about your mouth since the first time you opened it. S'fucking pretty, Jen, and I want it wide and wet against mine."

"Kissing's for girls."

He doesn't even believe that, Jared can tell from the bitterness in his tone, and the hurt in his eyes. Again, Jared fights back the urge to ask who did this to him; he's gonna find out, and when he does, the guy's face is gonna get real friendly with Jared's fist, but now isn't the time.

He crowds Jensen against the door. Bends his head 'til he's looking hard into Jensen's eyes and speaking right into his mouth. "Kissing's for anyone I like better than a tight hole to rub my dick." And he doesn't wait for a response before bearing down over Jensen's mouth.

At first Jensen resists it, shoving at Jared's chest, but when Jared doesn't let up, nips at his bottom lip and slides his tongue over the tiny hurt, Jensen's fists curl in his denim overshirt. He holds on like Jared's the only thing between him and a fall off a cliff into a rocky gulch.

When he opens for Jared on a low moan, Jared knows pretty much exactly how he feels. He falls on Jensen's mouth, licking deep into the smoke and whiskey heat and groaning-growling-whimpering. "Jen, god, your fucking mouth."

Jensen doesn't answer, just tangles his hand up in Jared's hair and yanks his head down again. It's like he's starved for it, and Jared's heard the expression, who hasn't, but it's literally true in Jensen's case. He's practically devouring Jared's mouth, biting his lips when he tries to catch his breath, sucking his tongue when he gives up. His cock brands Jared's thigh and it's like Jensen doesn't even feel it because he channels so much into the kiss.

Jared feels it, though, and he wants to taste it. He drags his hands down the long muscles of Jensen's back to cup his cheeks and pull him up to ride the thigh he slips between his legs.

He keeps kissing, though, fucking Jensen's pretty mouth wide, until Jensen stops it. Hands on Jared's shoulders, pushing his denim down, gaze burning through Jared. He laughs a little, wry, and Jared almost takes his mouth again to stop the wrong, wrong sound of it. "Been a while." Jensen blows out a long breath. "Jesus, Jay, your fucking mouth."

Jay. Only Chad and Tommy call him that, but it has a good sound to it, warm, when Jensen says it. He smiles, thumbs the corner of Jensen's mouth. "My line."

"Share, you toppy bastard." There's no heat in Jensen's tone.

Correction, there is. It's just the right kind. He smiles molasses slow, leans in, then lowers his voice to a bedroom drawl. "How 'bout I share 'bit more personally, like mouth to dick instead?"

Jensen's cheeks flush. "Fucking hell, you weren't kidding."

Both Jared's eyebrows rise. "Don't usually joke 'bout blowjobs. S'kinda bad form."

"Thought you were just tryin' to get me to say yes."

"I was." He palms over Jensen's cock, spreading his fingers along the sides to press the denim over the stiff bulge. "To me wrapping my lips around this."

Jensen groans, fingers bruising Jared's shoulders. "Think it's time for that abbreviated tour."

He runs his hand down Jensen's arm to catch his hand and twine their fingers together, doesn't care if it's girly, or toppy, or bossy, because no way he's letting go of Jensen now. No way. Tugging him forward, he drawls, slow, "This here's the front hall. Chad always forgets to wipe his feet, so there's a boot brush there—"


"Hmmm?" Jared looks back over his shoulder.

"Real abbreviated."

Arching an eyebrow, he grins. "Right. Bedroom, this way."


With a girl, getting undressed is part of it, kissing, licking, sucking – foreplay. With most guys you just do it. Strip out of your clothes fast as you can before someone changes their mind or things get weird. In the low light of his bedroom with Jensen, Jared's never had more cause to regret that.

His fingers itch for Jensen's tanned skin, tongue wants to map the paths between his freckles and his hard flat nipples. Later, he promises himself, because Jensen's already got issues with being 'the girl' and if Jared starts flailing his nipples with his tongue to feel him arch and hear him moan in that sexass voice, Jensen's gonna freak out completely. Later, though, tomorrow or next week or whenever. Maybe he'll tie Jensen to the bedposts and lick every inch of him 'til he begs for Jared's dick, and, oh fuck fuck fuck, Padalecki, what're you thinking?

"What?" Jensen smirks as he sits at the edge of the bed, and Jared's thoughts derail again at the sight of his dick, long and pretty, god it's as pretty as his fucking mouth. Shiny with precome, damn near purring at Jared the way it flirts toward him when he drops to his knees in front of Jensen.

"Just thinking how good you look in my bed," Jared says, husky, and near enough the truth he doesn't feel at all bad about it.

Jensen's eyelashes edge his cheekbones. He stares down at Jared, hand half lifted like he wants to put it in Jared's hair but hovering, uncertain. Jared's already sick of Jensen's definition of 'top' and it makes him a little fiercer than he maybe needs to be when he shoulders his knees apart. "Let me in, Jen." It'd be easier to push him to his back on the bed, but Jared likes being on his knees sometimes. Nothing hotter than his cock leaking on his thighs while he makes someone else come.

Jensen parts his knees, but his hand comes to rest on Jared's shoulder. Not good enough, not nearly. He leans in, nuzzles Jensen's inner thigh and breathes deep. Above him Jensen stiffens, fingers clasping harder, which is better.

He licks a long, wet stripe up Jensen's thigh and over his sac.

"Fuck, Jared, fuck." Jensen's murmuring, barely audible, but hearing his name in that tone, yeah, he agrees. Jesusfuck.

Now that he's here, he's not in a hurry. Been awhile for him, too, and even if it hadn't, Jensen's different. He wants, needs to make this good for him. His heart hammers, and it almost feels like he's trying out, auditioning.

He touches his tongue to the crown of Jensen's pretty cock, bitter-salt curls his tongue against stiff flesh, and his cock lurches, leaks. God. "Wanna make you come hard, Jen. Want you to come in my mouth." He wraps his tongue around Jensen and pulls him into the warm-wet of his mouth, knowing exactly how good it has to feel.

He's rewarded with a low whine of "JaredJaredJared, please."

A slow bob down over the length of Jensen's shaft, and finally those gorgeous, talented fingers twist in his hair. "Suck me, god, just suck me already."

Mouth stretched wide around Jensen's dick, he looks up through his bangs. Wants to see – and does – Jensen staring down at him, eyes glazing. Jensen thumbs along his cheek, tentative, but what guy can resist touching the mouth around his dick? "Jared, Jay."

Hard to smirk with a mouth full of dick, but Jared manages, just for a second, before he goes at it in earnest. He works his tongue against the bundle of nerves at the tip, and Jensen's hips lift, bucking. Sucks him in, and blows him out, and Jensen moans, twists his fingers in Jared's hair and holds him down to Jensen's groin.

The image of that hand, loose-jointed and clever – Jared just bets it's as good around a cock or a lariat as it is the neck of a guitar – spread over his hair, Jensen's head thrown back, line of his throat exposed, takes hold of Jared's mind while his dick numbs Jared's lips. With every burst of precome over his tongue, every bruising swallow, every restless thrust, it sears its way into his brain, and Jared knows he'll be jerking off to it for weeks, only wishes he could see what the best blow job Jared has ever given is actually doing to Jensen, thinks of video and adds it to his plans.

Jensen moans, fingers clamping too hard like acupressure on Jared's skull, and bucks up. His cockhead bangs the roof of Jared's mouth, rakes across his palate. Jared grunts and opens, wills himself to relax, and decides this is another thing they're doing, tomorrow maybe, in the barn or out on the trail, Jensen fucking his mouth, really taking what he wants. Shit, just thinking about Jensen's ass flexing, thighs straining, mouth open slack around his screams while he drives into Jared's mouth (fist, ass) has Jared almost as close as Jensen when Jensen keens soft, low, "Gotta come now, pleaseJaredpleaseletmecome."

Oh. Christ. Let him come. Another set of images explodes in his head, and Jared's in trouble, so much trouble, over the way letmecome makes him want to stroke and soothe and praise.

He pulls off with a lingering suck, looks up at Jensen and puts it all there in his eyes wanna fuck you wanna make you scream yourself hoarse wanna have you.

"Jesus," Jensen whispers, and Jared answers on a slow, honey-hot drawl, "C'mon, baby, s'good. Let it go for me, s'all good."

Then he closes his mouth over Jensen again, screws down tight – firm pressure over swollen round head, soft-wet tongue against the rigid length – and swallows. Jensen leans back on his hands and levers himself into Jared, three thrusts, a fourth and a bitten-off howl that Jared wants to hear loosed, a fifth and Jensen lengthenshardenspulses flooding his mouth with slick-hot come.

Jared's heard of love at first sight, doesn't believe in it; hard to, with Chad falling in love every second week, anyway, but he's never heard of love at first swallow. Maybe it's not love he's feeling, because, yeaaah, he barely knows the guy, but when Jensen's come slides easy down his throat, Jared feels like he just made mama smile. And when Jensen's breath comes in little hitching sobs and he gets from his knees to settle beside him on the bed – still hard, still hot, still needing so much – his own breath skips at the sight of Jensen blissed out dark-eyed colt-limbed sprawl, all knees and elbows. He's pretty sure that crush he'd been developing just took a turn for hang your hat in the hall and come to bed, baby.

Still panting, Jensen goes to his knees and elbows, manages, "Don't need much prep, just some lube," and Jared's roped, flipped and tied.

"Goddamn, you're hot, Jen," he says because he's pretty sure wanna fuck you 'til your ass drips with my come is a bad idea. Good idea, but probably Jensen's not ready to hear it, so he pulls open the nightstand drawer instead and gropes around for lube, bandana and condom.

He finds them and sets the condom on the bed by Jensen's hand. "Hang onto that a few."

"M'clean." Jensen's cheeks color, eyes flash defiance over his shoulder at Jared. "I'm not a slut, Jared."

Yeah, he's gonna spend some quality time rearranging the bones of the guy who made Jensen so headshy.

Christ, he's so fucked.

"You don't know dick about me, Jensen. Could be doing someone different every night of the week."

Hips lowering a little, Jensen studies Jared through gold-tipped lashes. "You're not."

At that Jared has to shake his head, because he's not, doesn't, always uses a condom with the pretty and gets tested regular as you please just to be sure. He arches an eyebrow at Jensen. "You so sure you'd risk your life on it?"

That look he'd seen Jensen give Kane earlier rearranges Jensen's face from open and vulnerable to downright mulish, and a piece of Jared really likes seeing it. "You just sucked me off without."

Damn if he doesn't have a point, too. Behind and sort of beside him, Jared rests on his hip. Walks his fingers over Jensen's calf, thoughtful, and keeping the contact live. As if the stretched-tight too-hot can't breathe is going away any time soon. "Yeah, that wasn't smart. But I know you're not a slut."

Jensen's eyes go liquid gold over green, warm and deep, then his head drops between his shoulders. "Just fuck me, Jared. I want your dick in my ass, you want it there. I trust you to use a condom if you're not sure you're clean."

Not I trust you're clean but I trust you not to lie, and Jared's heart kind of lurches. His hand flattens on Jensen's leg, inches up to his hip. "Why?"

Shoulders humping forward in an awkward shrug, Jensen doesn't quite meet Jared's eyes around his bicep. For his part, Jared can't quite believe Jensen's still ass up for him, not that he's complaining. Damned pretty view.

"You asked where I wanted to go." Jensen's voice is slow-smoke off a campfire, and, just like that, Jared's struggling not to lean in and kiss, drag his tongue over Jensen's hip and suck bruises in his ass.

Christjesus, he wants, wants him so much. "My mama taught me to ask after other folks' wants," he breathes out.

Jensen meets his gaze then, lips curving into a come on now wry smile. "You gonna tell me you were just bein' polite, Jared?"

It's Jared's turn to drop the gaze-lock, cheeks flushing, wondering does he know? Then he thinks maybe it'd be all right if Jensen did know, that maybe it'd be good for Jensen, and maybe he'd stick around, and Chad is going to mock him forever for this. "No."

Another shoulder-lean-shrug, then Jensen wets his chewed-pink lips and smiles. "So fuck me."

He's clean. He knows he is, and, he knows it's dumb, but he just knows Jensen is, too. Jensen's too damned skittish to tolerate the chance of infecting someone.

Jared's a betting man, and he's willing to take a chance on Jensen. "Ye-ah." He says it like two syllables, drawn out between oh god yes and bet on it.

The lube spills out over his hand, cool-slick promise, and he's on his knees behind Jensen before the cap even snaps down again. Maybe Jensen doesn't need a lot of prep, but Jared wants it, needs it now, dick gone softer while they hashed it out.

It doesn't stay that way long, brushes against Jensen's thighs when his fingertip traces the dark rose ring of Jensen's hole and Jensen hisses and backs into him. Jared smiles, curves his palm over Jensen's hip to keep him steady while he drags his thumb the length of the crack.

Slick fingers paint lube over Jensen's sac, skate along his perineum, back up through the cleft, hot skin warming the cool substance and his digits. Taut ridged muscle teases the pad of his finger, and a tremor works its way across the planes of Jensen's back, ends in a soft whimper. Just like that, Jared's full-hard again, aching, Christ he fucking loves that sound already, and… and, he's screwed six ways to Sunday but he so doesn't care.

"Gonna open you up now, Jen," he slurs, words stretching slow and dirty over his tongue like Jensen's tight little hole stretching around the tip of his index finger.

Jensen arches back into his finger, wanting more, but Jared's got a hand on his hip pushing him forward. "Bastard. Jesus fucking hell goddamn, you're a bastard."

He can't help but grin at that, can't resist tipping forward to nip at the lean curve of Jensen's ass. "Yeah." He is, but he works his finger in deeper anyway.

There's a muted growl and a mutter that sounds something like "all the same," and Jared's not having that, no way. A second finger joins the first, and sure Jensen doesn't need the prep, yeah huh, his ass quivers, clenching. Bone-crunching grip, fierce heat, and Jared's hissing, wants to palm his cock but he's holding Jensen where he wants him. Taking this slow, because Jensen's been used wrong and thinks he likes it, and Jared's just. Not. Having it. Just not gonna be that guy.

Long strokes, in and out, Jared learns how Jensen feels while working him wide. In to the third knuckle, add another finger, slow thrusts, until Jensen's moaning, shoulders humping, trying to push back, and Jared lets him this time. Watches, groaning, while Jensen fucks back on his hand, and it's lights out, because if Jared doesn't get his dick in there yesterday the pressure in his head – both of them, Christ – is going to black him out for real.

"Jen." He growls, grips Jensen's hip, but Jensen's cock curves against his belly, leaking again, and he's as hungry for this as Jared. Just keeps screwing back over his fingers, panting. "Jen, baby, gotta fuck you. Gotta fuck you now." It's half a prayer and half a whine. Jesus Christ, his hand shakes when he pulls his fingers free, wipes them on the bandana, and Jensen, head up, back arched, whispers, "God, Jared, please."

Warm from its spot under his shin, the lube still feels cold, chill, against the wild-fire heat of his dick in his palm and the inside of Jensen where he needs to be. One stroke, two, a third, flick-twist his wrist to spread the lube but he keeps his grip way too loose or else he'll fuck his fist and not the wide-open pretty red hole pouting like it needs a kiss – his lust-glazed brain lassoes the thought, pins it down. One more thing he's gonna do with Jensen: tongue his ass until he breaks and sobs for cock.

Both hands on Jensen's hips, Jared chews his lip, grabs it between his teeth and holds it hard. He's gonna take it slow -- goddamn so hot -- gonna feel Jensen take every inch of him. Gonna stuff Jensen so full of Jared his hips ache.

Jensen's not down with the plan, shoves back hard and Jared sinks all the way in. Balls-deep, and he cries out sharp. There's copper-wet on his tongue, and he realizes he bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. Laughing shakily, Jared raises the back of his hand to his mouth, wipes away the blood. "Goddamned pushy bottoms."

Head dropping to his forearms, ass-up take me, Jensen huffs out, "Dude, you had that coming."

"Give you what you got coming." He thrusts experimentally, testing the glide, and both of them whine-moan, oh god. Jared pushes a hand up Jensen's back, leans over him 'til his chest is flush, nipples tight and sliding through the sweat. Kisses a shoulder blade, then whispers, "Never wanted anyone like this, Jen." His face flushes, but it doesn't matter, 'cuz he's not giving Jensen a chance to think about it.

He rights himself, rocks back then slams deep to pleasure-pain so sweet his vision goes unfocused. God, so damned good, and yeaaah, he's pounding a willing ass, so good isn't unexpected, but fucking Jensen makes good a jaded whore. From the non-stop Jesuses, Jareds, and yeses streaming out of Jensen, Jared's pretty sure he knows that same whore.

The current that's been arcing between them since their eyes first met flares white-hot in his hips, and every thrust sends pleasure jolting down his spine into the soles of his feet. Sweat from his bangs drips onto Jensen's back. He grunts, claws at Jensen's hips. Jensen swaps the Jesus yes for Oh god, wraps the sexiest goddamned moans around his name, and the long, low pull of them draw his eyelids down, heavy.

Breath short, rasping over lick-dried, blood-flecked lips, Jared doesn't bother about talking, just sits on his heels and tugs Jensen back with him.

Impaled on his dick, Jensen goes stiff. Jared stops the next upward flex of his hips before it starts. Licks a soft salty stripe off Jensen's throat. "Hurt?"

Long, slow shudder against his chest, then Jensen's head dips, turns back and forth. "God, no."

Too damned soft.

Not convinced, Jared rocks, but slow. Slower still, palms down Jensen's chest and belly to find his cock. Coaxes, "What?" with his fist around the leaking tip.

"You don't gotta do—"

Jensen gets as far as don't before hot rage surges. "Shut it."


He growls, seriously, back-fur-bristling-wolf-growls, then sinks his teeth into Jensen's shoulder.

Jensen yelps. Then, "Fuck."

"Least I got your attention now," he slurs, tonguing apologetic circles around the red mark. "Jen, whoever he was…m'not that guy." He thrusts up into Jensen and fists over his cock, lifts and strokes again. "Just not."

His thumb flicks across Jensen's cockhead, and Jensen gasps, clenches so hard Jared sees stars. "Fuck," Jared grits out. Eyes closing, he squeezes his ass tight, hangs on, 'cuz it's important. "Just wanna make you feel good, Jen. Gonna come. Gonna fill your ass. Want you to come with me."

"Toppy, uh, god, toppy bastard." Jensen's hands drop to Jared's thighs, lever him up and down over Jared's dick and Jared just lets go, lets him ride, 'cuz Jesusfucktighthotfucksogood.

His body goes taut, balls ache. Jensen sits back hard, whimper-keens, "Jared," then he's coming in long wracking spasms, milking Jared with every sweet pulse over Jared's hand.

"Yeah, baby, just like, oh god…Jen." Just like that, Jared's there with him. He throbs out in slick-hot bursts and incoherent hallelujahs moaned into Jensen's shoulder.

Stunned silent, Jared feels the furnace-heat of Jensen heaving against him. Smells sweat, lube, sex, and the faint scent of tall grass on a soft breeze through the cracked window. Sees Jensen's mouth bitten-pink and soft-slack around heavy panting breaths. Hears his pulse racing in his ears and the lower thud of Jensen's heartbeat. Bends his head and tastes the salt-drenched smoke-leather-sweetness-like-alfafa-hay that is Jensen after singing and sex.

"Jesus," Jensen breathes, just as Jared's mouthing a sweaty, "Fuck," into the nape of Jensen's neck.

He grins, laughs, then Jensen whimpers, "Lord, have mercy," when Jared's half-hard dick twitches against his prostate.

"It's Jared." Sprawling over on his side, he tugs Jensen with him, collapses in a tangle of cooling limbs and streaks of come. "Or Jay."


Next morning, Jared wakes to an empty bed. His chest tightens, heart lurches. Damn it, why? He hadn't made Jensen talk, hadn't even tried to curl around him for comfort the way he'd wanted to, just let his hands drift quiet over his body 'til they slept.

He blinks, sits up with an irritable growl at the cock crowing outside his window because it's well past sunrise. Then it hits him.


The blissful, slightly acidic, unmistakable scent of fresh coffee.

And he's in his house, not the ranch house, so it's not Sarge or Chad that's made it.

He grins, grabs a pair of sweats from the pile on the floor – yeah, he's kind of a slob, but it's not like he'd been expecting to bring Jensen Ackles home last night – and trips over his own feet trying to pull them on and get to the kitchen all at once.

Good thing, really, Chad's not here. He'd be laughing his ass off at Jared's dick bobbing, limbs flailing while he struggles with a simple pair of cotton sweats.

Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath. Tries to remember he's turning twenty-eight this year, not eighteen. It's always like this for him when a crush hits. Yeah, he's a toppy bastard, as Jensen put it, but what happens in bed or against a wall or bent over a water trough isn't the same as sitting across the kitchen from someone whose eyes remind you of summer trips to Yellowstone and long rides in tall grass and…


When he finally makes it to the kitchen, sweatpants around his hips and over his cock, thanks, Jensen's leaning against the counter jeans unbuttoned and looking like he just stepped out of ever fantasy Jared's had since he turned fifteen. Mug in both hands, he's breathing the steam and staring at nothing. Green-gold eyes blink, catch Jared standing in the doorway, and something warm and mellow shows for an instant before his expression closes off and shoulders stiffen.

Jensen sets his coffee next to the pot, meets Jared's gaze head on. "Hey, I hope you don't mind. Coffee seemed good." His hands drift to his thighs, rub awkwardly, like maybe they're damp or he's just as nervous as Jared. When Jared just nods, because speech is just fucking beyond him at the moment, Jensen blows out a long breath. "I guess we need to talk."

That snaps the spell in a heartbeat, and Jared's across the kitchen, hands on Jensen's hips faster than he can say "shut it, Murray" which is pretty damned fast considering how often he says it. Jensen's eyes widen; his lashes fall against his cheeks, then he smiles, almost shy, and nudges Jared with his knee.

Head tilting, bangs falling in his eyes, Jared grins. "Talk later, Jen. Waffles or flapjacks?"

A/N: After talking to exsequar it was decided there ought to be a Kane concert, so thanks for that and the music! The entire dude ranch setting comes out of a conversation with strippedpink one night when she wanted a random prompt. I gave her this, then took it back, because I fell in love with the idea of the boys with hay and horses and leather and Texas sunshine.

Thanks to poisontaster, moveablehistory for audiencing and kicking me on. To maygra for awesome pre-beta, estrella30 for the squee that kept me sane when my wingman and partner in everything that is J2, strippedpink wasn't online, and to strippedpink for…everything. ♥

ETA: Originally posted here on 14 January 2007. All comments there have been answered and are treasured. Thank you so much, y'all. Really, I have no words for how much your love for this verse means.

other break loose ranch fic


( 28 comments — Leave a comment )
Dec. 1st, 2007 08:25 am (UTC)
OHMYJESUSFUCK! I love your creative brain and eveything attached to it! I love that you write it so picture perfect. That I'm not even from the south and this makes me wanna be as Georgia Peah as anyone else. I love how well you make them fit together even if only one of them realize it, and I love how you make them just ment to be. I cant wait to read the rest of you stuff. Just thought I'd comment on how awesome I think you are. Pleasefortheloveofallholy friend me,lol, cause I'm friending you! lol
Dec. 1st, 2007 08:03 pm (UTC)
Hey there! Thanks so very very much. I'm so glad you're enjoying the Break Loose 'verse. I hope you'll continue to. :)

You're welcome to friend me! I'm not going to lock anything on this journal, and it's just a posting journal, not a reading journal, so I'm not friending anyone back. That way LJ can't bitch at me friending underagers and posting adult content. ;)

Again, thanks TONS. I love this verse and these boys, and it's lovely that you do too!
(Deleted comment)
Feb. 19th, 2008 06:34 am (UTC)
Thank you so much, hon. I'm so delighted the story and the 'verse have held up well for you. Hope you enjoyed the rest of the fic!
Jan. 21st, 2008 11:25 pm (UTC)
I just read the whole 'verse again (this makes, what, the fourth time? I think four.) and even though I'm sure (I hope!) I've left fb before, I have to tell you - it's very much my J2 happy place. It's like comfort food, in the best possible way. Thank you!
Feb. 19th, 2008 06:35 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy it and I'm SO thrilled you keep reading the 'verse over and again.
Jan. 23rd, 2008 10:21 am (UTC)
Damn. I can't even begin to tell you how much I really liked this. I love Jensen's wounded attitude that still smacks of attitude somehow so you just know he's not beaten just wounded. I love Chris Kane and the rattlesnake references and I'm not even gonna go on about how much I love The Chad in here because I am crazy for The Chad.

This just generally wins at life the universe and everything so thanks for sharing because that's about the best kind of feedback I can manage while being braindead from glee. <3
Feb. 19th, 2008 06:38 am (UTC)
You're darling. Thank you so very much. I'm glad that the boys really work for you. Jensen's not beaten down, just broken up. He's made some progress with Jared and there'll be more.

Again, thank you!
Feb. 8th, 2008 06:40 pm (UTC)
This is so smoking hot you've left me with no words!

Feb. 19th, 2008 06:37 am (UTC)
Awww, thanks. I'm glad you like it!
Feb. 11th, 2008 07:49 am (UTC)
Oh damn! This is so great! *runs off to read more*
Feb. 19th, 2008 06:36 am (UTC)
I'm so pleased you like it! Thank you. :)
Mar. 14th, 2008 01:10 am (UTC)
I've read this several times now and it never ceases to blow me away so I had to comment again, but I've only just discovered that there are more to this verse. Yay. *dances happy dance*
An awesome fic, definitely one of the best out there, I love it. :D
*runs off to read more and hopes I can stay awake long enough*
Apr. 7th, 2008 03:41 pm (UTC)
Rereading this verse for the bazillionth time because I can always, always count on it when I'm craving fabulously written romance *happy sigh*
Sep. 29th, 2008 05:16 pm (UTC)
Jesusfuckingchrist, I don't know how I didn't comment the first time you posted this.

I'm ashamed to say I'd put it in the back of my mind and filed it away with everything else I have to think about but I have been on a Texas!boys haul and I had to go over to spnstoryfinders to find it again. And I'm so glad I did.

It's so amazing. Every last bit of it. Thank you. :]
Your writing style is absolutely amazing. Keep writing.
Oct. 15th, 2008 06:20 pm (UTC)
Jesus H Christ, that's gotta be the hottest thing i've read so far, that sex scene was fuckin' smokin'!
*iz dead*
i'll be back for more, just off to get a bucket of cold water *splash*
Dec. 25th, 2008 05:40 am (UTC)
Yeah, I'm like, so late to the game. BUT. Got here through someone's recs and since J2 AUs are my thing lately (late to the SPN game as well, after years of fighting it), this hit me square.
And not just 'cause I'm a Texas native and work in the cattle/horse industry.
I love a nice plot with my sex, and gawshdarn, this makes me happy all over.
Off to read the next bits.
Sep. 20th, 2009 06:59 am (UTC)
This has left me speechless. In memories.
Sep. 20th, 2009 09:52 am (UTC)
I loved the setting with the concert and the ranch...
And of course it was really hot and I adore Jared for never taking a half-assed 'it's okay' as a permission.
*hugs* B
Sep. 20th, 2009 06:11 pm (UTC)
Podbook version of juice817's podfic is here. :-)
Sep. 20th, 2009 08:24 pm (UTC)
Neat. Thanks!
Sep. 24th, 2009 05:16 pm (UTC)
I just listened to Juice817's awesome podfic version of this. I was kinda blown away. :D
SO hot and the characterization was painfully good. I'm usually *not* a fan of overly toppy Jared. But this? I'm gonna make an exception! Jeez.

I'm torn between wanting to read the rest right now and waiting for her to record it. Eeeh.
Aug. 20th, 2010 11:45 pm (UTC)
God, that's amazing. Jared's voice in this is so strong. I loved the instant attraction, the way that Jared can't stop fantasizing about what he'll do to Jensen, no tingiht, but tomorrow, next week. And the way he keeps taking care of Jensen when Jensen won't look after himself, and wanting to smash whatever asshole put Jensen into that headspace.
Aug. 21st, 2010 10:59 pm (UTC)
Also - now I really want to hear Jensen perform 'Turn the Page.'
Aug. 29th, 2010 09:55 pm (UTC)
i remember reading and being seduced by this a lifetime ago, and was just re-introduced to it via juice817's podfic of it. re-enter the faceplant.

character-wise, you threaded SO MUCH into this, and i bow to you for it. i loved the dominance jared expressed, and that it was out of sheer need to be IT for jensen; loved jensen as one long consistent line of tension, afraid to be broken.

fantastic writing -- and i look forward to catching up on the rest of the verse!
Feb. 13th, 2011 07:21 am (UTC)
OMG I think my computer screen just melted...again! This was incredible, totally loved it but there's an undercurrent here with Jensen. This was recced by connorblond and he only recs really good stories.

I enjoyed your Texan expressions that ring true even with us Aussies. They so fit the story. BTW I looooove Christian's music so onto more. Yay!
May. 29th, 2011 03:26 am (UTC)
OMG this was such a freakin' hot beginning!!! Loved the whole bar intro - much funny! Wow, I am still breathless from the bedroom scene :-D Moving briskly along to the next part now!
Sep. 25th, 2012 04:47 am (UTC)
You did an awesome job at setting the mood. It was incredibly intimate and sexy. I am looking forward to reading the other parts of this series. Good Job.
Jul. 15th, 2013 01:23 am (UTC)
I really love this. I keep a "lines I wish I wrote" file and you have two in this story that I just love: "Something about this is making Jensen act like a horse passing a sunning rattler, and he's not interested in spooking the colt, or – he glances at Kane – waking the snake." and "In his eyes and his posture, Jared reads a warning clearer than the dry, skin-crawling rattle of a pissed-off diamondback." Truly perfect, both of them. Thank you for this beautiful piece of fiction. It's sexy and sweet and at times a little hostile (thanks to Chris)and it all flows beautifully together.

Edited at 2013-07-15 01:31 am (UTC)
( 28 comments — Leave a comment )


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