blowing smoke-ring halos (smokeringhalos) wrote,
blowing smoke-ring halos

  • Mood:

break loose ranch: riding shotgun to everything that's on my mind (Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles) R

Title: riding shotgun to everything that's on my mind
Series: break loose ranch; fills in: everybody’s got their own definition of just their kind; fills in busting through them gates.
Author: technosage
Characters/Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating/Warnings: R
Word Count: 3,996
Summary: The first kiss and four that follow. An overview of Jared and Jensen's relationship, as it might or might not happen in the Break Loose Ranch 'verse.

i. you changed my world with just one kiss. – N Sync

Jared grins, wide as Texas, and bright as the sun off the water at Riverwalk. His mouth's not pretty like to suck his dick. It's made for kissing, long slow kisses, hot deep kisses, fuck me kisses, you kiss your mama with that mouth? dirty kisses. Jensen noticed that right off.

But kissing's for girls. That's what Diego told him when he taught him about being on the down-low. And what Van Der Beek said when they'd been together six months and Jensen thought maybe it'd be all right to try it just the once.

So when Jared thumbs across his mouth, he knows Jared's thinking suck me and Jensen licks the tip. Light flick and curl, just like he'll do his dick, and he can almost taste the musk when Jared's hips buck.

Then Jared's fingers knot in his hair, and, okay fine, the bedroom can wait, he'll just blow him here and—

Full soft lips against his own, and Jensen's falling, falling, shoving against Jared's chest. "The fuck?"

Cat eyes blinking, Jared frowns, lips pursed. "Kissing you."

Yeah. Yeah, obviously, but this is a fuck. A down and dirty dick you 'til you scream and standing's not an option fuck. And guys don't kiss. Not each other.

"Jesus." He takes a step back, pushes his hand through his hair. "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's staring, looking right through him like he sees every damned thing and, jesus, Jensen might as well be Catholic for everything it makes him want to confess.

"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."

Jensen wants that. He always wants it. But doesn't matter what Jared's saying. He doesn't want it like Jensen wants it. So he spits out, "Kissing's for girls," not caring that he sounds six kinds of shrewish.

There's that look again. Knowing and angry, the wrath of God himself in those eyes, and then Jensen's back's to the door and Jared's growling, "Kissing's for anyone I like better than a tight hole to rub my dick."

Jensen's voice gets trapped somewhere between his cock and his lips, but before it matters, Jared's kissing him. Full-on, taking his mouth like something out of Gone with the fucking Wind.

It feels too good in places that have nothing to do with grunts and sweat and come and it's not fair. Not fair, Jared doing this to him, turning him inside out with what he wants and laying Jensen bare. Heart pounding, he pushes against Jared, shoves at him, but Jared's having none of it.

Sharp teeth take his bottom lip, and he opens on a gasp, almost a yelp. But fucking Jared doesn't even surge right in and fuck his mouth wide to show him how it's gonna be. No. Fucking Jared licks him. Licks sweet and soft against the bite, soothing it.

Jensen grabs his denim shirt - gotta stop this, gotta stop it right now - but he can't do it. Can't throw Jared off because he's a big goddamned girl and Jared's kissing him like that's all right and he doesn't care if Jensen wants to fall in love and watch old movies on the couch.

Doesn’t matter, doesn't mean shit. In three days he'll be gone from here and if he has a crush on Jared Padalecki it won't be the first time he's had to pretend one dick is as good as any other. If Jared wants to kiss him, Jensen's good. Whatever he wants. As long as the hard package pressed against his belly reams his ass, Jared can paint his mouth in lip gloss and call him "Jenny."

He gives it up, the moan that's riding his tongue, and Jared chases it. Kissing him open, tasting deep in his mouth and groaning like it's all for real. Somewhere in it, Jared growls against already tingling lips, "Jen, god, your fucking mouth."

Jensen doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want the words that say it's all a pretext to get him to spread. He just tangles his fist in that mop - soft, heavy silk sliding through his fingers - and yanks Jared's head down. Kisses Jared like he wants to be fucked, hard and hungry. Like it means something.

Kisses him like it means everything, because with Jared's wide-as-Texas mouth on his and his huge hands sliding down his back to pull him closer, it sorta does.

x x x

ii. a man's kiss is his signature. - Mae West

"Your boys know about you, this?" Jared's voice rolls out, low and tight like thunder. They're pulling up under the awning of the Holiday Inn where Chris and Steve are staying, where he'd been staying before Jared.

Three days and everything's different now. Fucking Jared Padalecki is everything he never dared to want in a guy and it's got him all kinds of tumbled and twisted. He still doesn't know what he wants, but he knows he's not ready to say goodbye. Not today and damned sure not for good.

His chest's tight, jaw too, and when he glances over, Jared looks about like he feels. Cat eyes glowing with want, big hands clenched white-knuckled over the wheel. "Kinda hard to keep it from them, you dragging me off every chance you got." Jensen tries for breezy calm and gets breathy like to give everything away.

Jared slants him a look from under bangs that should be stupid but swing between adorable and fuck me wide depending on the moment. Right now they're definitely sexass, not quite hiding the way his pupils go m'gonna make you scream dark. "Didn't hear you complaining, baby."

It's like Jared's a damned people whisperer or something, maybe even a Jensen whisperer, because he doesn't bridle. His lips quirk and his eyes feel bright. "Well, there was the one time…"

"Ye-ah," Jared drawls, black molasses slow and sexy. "Complaining I took my sweet time fingering you open 'stead a reaming you right then. Kinda a running theme, really, you begging for me."

He should be pissed, should punch that smirk right off Jared's face but there's nothing cruel in Jared, no meanness. Boy's Texas sunshine, fresh orange juice at breakfast, calls his mama twice a week nice. And that scares the crap out of Jensen. "Goes well with you blind with wanting me."

The soft growl from Jared makes his gut flip like the pancakes Jared prefers. "Sure you won't stay?"

He wants to, holy Christ, he wants to, but that, and the stupid-ass softness Jared brings out in him is exactly why he's not going to. "Can't. Got a gig in Nashville I promised Chris I'd do."


The sour taste of Jared's disappointment makes him want to take it back. It makes him want to climb in Jared's fucking lap, which is just one more reason he's getting out of this truck. Any minute now. "Why'd ya want to know if they knew, Jay?"

Jared looks right at him, eyes heavy-lidded, and he's doing that thing that makes Jensen want to confess and repent. "Wanted to know what to say if Chris answers when I call." He scrubs a hand through his bangs – they're looking sort of traumatized – and blows out a long breath. "Wanted to know if I get to kiss you goodbye."

Flapjacks ain't got nothin' on his gut now. No chance of anything, but Jared wants to kiss him and Jensen still hasn't quite got used to that. He drops Jared's gaze, hiding – he's good at that, hiding; hiding and movin' on are two of his best skills – but, lashes edging his cheekbones, he reaches across the bench seat to thumb along the seam of Jared's jeans. Concentrating on the well-worn denim, he shrugs one shoulder too high. "Yeah, if you want. You don't have--" At Jared's glare, he cuts himself off, trying to remember that Jared isn't James over the pounding in his ears. "Yeah. Okay."

Just like that Jared's grinning again, and it's like the sun breaking the clouds on a rainy day. He can't help but bask in it, smile back.

Mae West once said, "A man's kiss is his signature," and Jared's when he turns off the ignition, cups the back of Jensen's head to press their mouths together, is his full name. No abbreviated initials, no unformed letters: Jared Tristan Padalecki, written in the slow glide of hastily licked lips against Jensen's, knowing sweep of his tongue through Jensen's mouth, gentle clack of teeth, gradual tightening of his finger-grip; and finished, there, yes, with the curlicue-dot of a rising moan.

Jensen, he's signed, sealed and fucking well delivered, maybe even transported, by the easy grace of Jared's wide, warm mouth on his. He's not clutching at Jared's shoulders, but it's a near thing, and he adds a little P.S. in the form of a shuddered breath and the unvoiced thought that it's just like Jared to leave Jensen with his taste thick on his tongue, leave him remembering so he'll come back.

As he slides out of the truck with a sotto voce "Later, man," he's so not sure which is worse, that he knows what's just like Jared or that his mind made the analogy between a kiss goodbye and a signature on a (love) letter. It's not until much later, way out on Highway 66 in Chris's battered Chevy, it occurs to him that plenty of other things bear signatures -- arrest warrants, sworn statements, binding contracts and ownership papers – and he wonders what he and Jared just signed.

x x x

iii. I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days. – Crash Davis, "Bull Durham"

It's raining. It's been raining for three days. Doesn't mean dick on a working ranch. There's always something to do, even just feeding the livestock. Might maybe be more to do, if the rain softens the ground too much and fence posts come up or the plow gets stuck or the cows get trapped in a gulch where you can't leave 'em for fear of flood.

So Jensen's not expecting to have a lot of time with Jared this trip back, and he's okay with that. He figures he'll pitch in and help, show Jared he's more than a pretty face and a tight hole for his dick. As long as he gets to hear Jared wrap that sex-drenched drawl around his name once or twice, he'll be fine.

Kissing and cuddling's for girls, anyway.

Girls and Jared Padalecki apparently, because Jared drags him through the front door, mammoth paw around the back of his neck, and locks his lips over Jensen before he's even said 'hey'. And Jensen's not smiling into the kiss, but that's only because Jared's got his mouth fucked wide with his tongue. Otherwise, he'd probably be smiling soft, eyelashes on his cheekbones, like the big damned girl that he is.

Turns out, Jared's fence posts are cement-sunk, the tractors get put in the equipment shed every night, and the livestock's all penned. So aside from regular feeding and riding the property to check for rain damage in the morning, there's not all that much to do. They end up ordering four large meatlover's pizzas and drinking beer on the couch while the DVD player churns out more eighties movies than Jensen ever knew existed.

They're halfway through Bull Durham, which Jared can and does quote every line of, and Jensen's trying hard not to think about being tangled up naked. Jared probably doesn't get this kind of time often, and it's not that Jensen doesn't like how comfortable this is, it's just…it's just he wants Jared. It's been a month of his right hand, and Jared kissed him hello, and he fucking well wants Jared.

Must be showing on his face, because Jared slants him a look from under his bangs. "Jen?"

Real casual, Jensen takes a swig off his beer, then points the bottle at the screen. "Seems like you mightta seen this a few times."

"Ye-ah, and?" The slow smirk sets Jared's eyes to smolder.

Fucker's gonna make him say it. Fine. If he wants to play, Jensen can play. "And…" He wets his lips, nice and slow, before meeting Jared's gaze. "And I've been fucking my fist for a month thinking about your dick in my ass."

Dark hazel cat eyes go full-dark, then Jared stretches up from his sprawl. "Put your beer down, Jen." Want makes Jared's voice thick, smoky; the self-assured command in it makes Jensen's dick hard. Harder.

And yeah, he'll roll, but he's no sub and he ain't droppin' just 'cuz he leaks when Jared gets toppy on him. "Why'm'I gonna do that, Jay?" He matches his tone to Jared's, purring and sultry, 'cuz they might only have had a few days together, but he knows what does it for Jared.

"Your choice. I don't mind licking you clean, baby, but you got about ten seconds to put that beer down or wear it when I pin you."


The bottle clanks against the glass when he sets it down. It's not nerves got his hand shaking, it's just… If you were half as good as you think you are, Jen, I wouldn't have to fuck anyone else. It's not nerves, it's expectations, and now that he's got Jared where he wants him, what if—

Jared's got him before he finishes the thought, almost like he hears it and is having none of it. Now, everyone's heard the phrase silenced with a kiss and Jensen always thought it was girly and kinda dumb besides, but it's just what Jared does. Jared's mouth closes soft over his and it's full-stop silence.

Yeah, in the background Costner's giving some speech about cocks and pussies and baseball and kisses that last three days. Yeah, the saddle leather couch is creaking from Jared pulling Jensen under him. Yeah, the rain is beating that head-too-tight-and-the-world's-being-born tattoo on the roof and windows. And, yeah, the dogs are panting on the chair behind his head.

But inside Jensen's head, there's silence. No worrying, no self-editing, no what-ifs, not even wanting. There's just Jared over him, hard as the pews in the church back home but supple, too, and welcoming Jensen's hands whether they're smoothing his rumpled flannel or worshipping the firm muscle of his ass. Just Jared, and his generous mouth tasting like hops and Italian sausage and tomato sauce but feeling like the French Silk pie Amy rhapsodized over at the all-night Denny's the Friday after they wrapped shooting on "Dead in the Water."

Jared kisses him sweet and slow, like he's got nothing else to do and all the time in the world to do it. Deep, toe-curling sweeps of his tongue and gentle-rough cat licks that soothe even while they inflame. Warm and wet and kind like to comfort and bathe away the stress of a month of nowhere to go but going anyway.

And Jensen kinda melts into it. Kinda sorta completely releases himself into Jared and his kisses, sliding one hand up into that thick, expressive mop, but he's not holding Jared to his mouth – he doesn't have to. Jared's solid and certain and settled, kissing because he wants to. And Jensen's running his fingers through Jared's hair because it feels good. And because he can.

Jensen secretly likes Bull Durham and a coupla other Costner films, Dances with Wolves, for one, The Bodyguard for another. Costner's not the best actor; sometimes he's so on the nose, it makes Jensen's eyes bleed. But Costner plays his leads genuine, guileless. No matter how jaded and cynical they're meant to be, there's a solid core of determination and good will that makes you want to believe in him.

That's how Jared kisses, how Jared does everything. Sometimes that scares the living daylights out of Jensen, but when Jared rolls to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist to draw Jensen's ass snug against his unabashed hard-on, it feels real.

He reaches across Jensen, flips the remote into his hand, then rewinds the movie to the part where Annie tells Crash and Nuke the "rules". And when Jared plants a wet, sucking kiss on his pulse and slurs, "M'gonna fuck you into next week after the movie," Jensen closes his eyes, growls, "Toppy bastard," and believes him.

x x x

iv. [I] kissed him. And the world cracked open. – Agnes de Mille

Jared's pissed. And if you've ever seen an angry stallion, then you know just how bone-deep terrifying that is. Horse is man's friend and helpmate, so when you see one, ears laid flat back against his skull, teeth bared and quivering with rage, it shakes you deeper than a circling shark. It's wrong in a way that a hunting predator can't be.

Doesn't fucking matter at the moment, because Jensen's pissed too. Fists clenched to knock those bared teeth down his throat. "The hell, Jared?"

"You don't wanna be here, fine. Don't you use Kane as an excuse." Jared snarls, eyes flashing murder.

"S'not a damned excuse, asshole. I had a gig. Chris and Steve—"

His hands come up, shove Jensen back so hard he stumbles. "I talked to them, Jensen. Christian fucking Kane called me, asked if I'd seen your ass."

Goddamn son of a whore. He's gonna kill Chris. When he's done with this bitch. Jensen's smaller and lighter but he shoves right back. "S'none of your goddamned business what I do."

Something dark and ugly twists Jared's mouth, then he spits out, "Grow a set. Just fucking grow a set." Angry-hurt in too-knowing eyes, and Jensen's gut twists. Hard. "You wanna be done? Say it."

His lungs seize like running too hard. Eyes sting like wind-burn. It's not… he doesn't… Jared just. Fucking Jared and Chris and James and he doesn't know what he wants. Not this. "Got a set. You just won't let me use 'em."

Jared locks onto him, gaze boring down and laying him bare. "Bullshit. Never told you what to do. Never made you do shit."

No. Just made him want to offer it up. Balls on a silver fucking platter along with his head and heart and every damned shred of his will. He squeezes his eyes shut, rasps, "Can't breathe around you. Can't think, can't fucking breathe."

"Then walk away."

Jared's quiet. Too fucking quiet. Like to let loose with lightning, thunder and the wrath of judgment, and Jensen hates it.

Because he's right.

Jensen opens his eyes, wets his lips. "Don't wanna walk away. Just wanted to breathe, Jay. Just wanted to catch my breath."

The fight's gone out of Jensen, but Jared's feet are still splayed and braced, eyes still rage-dark and white around the edges. "Shoulda said, Jensen. All you had to do was say something."

"I know." His fault; he did wrong. Now he's gotta fix it. He reaches out, grabs the untucked edge of Jared's cowboy denim overshirt. "I know. Didn't know what to say, or how to tell you."

Jared grabs his wrist like to throw him off, but fingers touch skin and he stops. Stuck.

Jesus. Jared's scared. He's hurt and scared and his eyes look like Jensen's gonna put down his favorite mare.

"Don't wanna lose you. Don't wanna screw up and not know how and one day you don't come back. Just want you to be happy, Jen." He's pleading now, and it's the worst thing Jensen's ever heard. "Just want you to be happy with me."

"Jared. Jay." His heart pounds, and words won't come. He wants to tell Jared he'll stay forever, but he can't. Not yet.

He leans up. Kisses Jared's wide, warm mouth hard. "I'll be back."

The world seems to shake under him. He wants to curl into Jared. Stay.

He doesn't. He'll be back. When he catches his breath.

x x x

v. a kiss that speaks volumes is seldom a first edition. - Clare Whiting

Six months. Six months of auditions for parts he wasn't sure he wanted but got anyway, because when he works, he gives everything to it. Hot lights, too much make-up, guest spots on Smallville as Jason's ghost, on Heroes as Riordan, a guy who controls the weather, six episode run on Justice League, hair dyed black to play Kyle Rayner, the Green Lantern, before Hal Jordan comes back.

Then hiatus, and a dozen shows with Kane. A handful of smaller ones, just him and Steve. Even one just him, a karaoke night turned impromptu gig and a thick wad of bills at the end of the night from the grateful owner of the tiny dive bar in El Paso.

Six months of thinking of Jared every night but calling him less times than he can count on one hand. On Jared's birthday to wish him a good one. On New Year's eve, drunk and sloppy and missing him like a phantom limb. When Tommy and Mike are at the Break Loose, and he's got an excuse because Justice League got picked up for another season. And once when he's driving from Boulder to Santa Fe and the miles of nothing but warm sun and wind remind him of home.

He's had a lot of time to think these past six months. A lot of time to catch his breath and figure out what he wants. And now he's leaning against the counter in Jared's kitchen, mug of coffee in both hands, listening to Jared talk about the new foal, his plans for the summer, the girl Chad fell for.

Jared's nervous, talking to fill the silence. Lips wrapped around all the words but the question he wants to ask.

Jensen sets the "Everything's Big in Texas" mug on the counter and Jared shuts up. The air feels heavy, but Jensen's breathing just fine.

He pushes off the counter, crosses the kitchen to Jared, and hooks his fingers in Jared's belt loops. Long inhale to wrap himself in Jared's warmth, then he smiles. "Missed you," he murmurs, quiet, before curling a hand in Jared's messy, angsty mop and tugging his head down.

It's not the kind of kiss you see in movies. Not deep and long with everything fuzzing soft in the blur of passion. Jared doesn't immediately forgive six months of absence and growl hungry against his mouth. That's okay, because Jensen's grown a set. He just keeps kissing until the tension goes out of Jared's neck and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

When Jared breaks the kiss, pulls away to look at Jensen with those all-seeing eyes, Jensen doesn't flinch. Doesn't hide. Just lets Jared look, because he knows what Jared will see.

"You're back?" Jared asks, but Jensen knows from the hand stroking down his spine that Jared just needs to hear it.

"Yeah." That's all he says, but Jared grins, wide as Texas and bright as the sun off the water at Riverwalk.

And this time when he tilts his mouth up for Jared, Jared whisper-growls, "M'gonna fuck you for a month," before he kisses him like Gone With the Wind and Crash Davis. Like it means everything.

Because with Jared's huge hands holding his head, Jensen's smoothing down Jared's back, and their mouths sealed together, it does.

A/N: So, last week, Nan was sad and wanted schmoop. I started this because she said "kissing fic, Allieface" and I said, "Okay, I can do that," because hey, what's five kisses between two hot boys who want each other like they want to breathe?


Well, this is the result. It may or may not be the five-act structure of the story of Break Loose Ranch. I don't really know. This is how Jensen-in-my-head told it to me when we got to talking about the kissing and why it matters. So, it's either how it does happen, or how it could.

Beta by the beautiful strippedpink as ever. Audienced by the lovely estrella30 because it was for her, but I can't very well make her beta her own gift-fic. I love you both like pie. ♥

ETA: Still working on the feedback from this one originally posted here.- Thank you, thank you, thank you. SO DAMNED MUCH. ♥

Tags: blr, jared padalecki, jensen ackles
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded