Work Text:
Jared is forty-five minutes late leaving the station, having gotten tied up in paperwork down in booking, and by the time he's managed to disentangle himself from the endless red tape his shift is long over.
He'd called Jensen the second he left, and he hopes to god the clipped, "Okay, see you soon," wasn’t actually tinged with the anger he thought he’d heard. Jensen isn't easily put out, but he is cooking dinner tonight and Jared has the sinking feeling that today is some sort of essential date he should have remembered. Jensen's been cagey all week, like it's leading up to something, but Jared hasn't got any idea why.
He ponders it in the car on the way home, running through his mental list of important anniversaries, and since it isn't Jensen's birthday, or his own, or the anniversary of their first date (September 4th, Thai restaurant), or of the day he kissed Jensen for the first time (September 16th, on the steps outside Jensen's apartment), or the time they first fucked (September 17th, just past midnight, barely inside the door of Jensen's apartment), he can't figure out what it is.
As he mounts the stairs to their (now shared) apartment, he resigns himself to taking Jensen's irritation (which he may or may not deserve) and trying to diffuse it the best way he knows how (blow jobs, mostly).
He unlocks the door and calls, "Hey!" into the apartment. It's warm and smells like curry, but it's quiet. Jared drops his keys in the bowl and hangs his coat on the rack, and heads for the kitchen. Empty. "Jensen?"
Jared turns to check the bedroom, and Jensen is standing in the doorway in his full uniform, eyebrow raised.
"Hey," Jared says, blowing out a breath and smiling. "Wait, do you have to go to work?"
Damn shame, too, because Jensen looks fucking hot in his scrubs. His broad shoulders pull the shirt tight across his chest, and his waist is sleek and narrow under the drawstring of his pants. The soft fabric disguises the gentle bow of his legs, but somehow that makes it even better, knowing the imperfection is there and not being able to see it. He's wearing a white t-shirt underneath, and it peeks out behind the V of the neck of the pale blue scrub shirt. His name tag is clipped to the pocket, and Jared can't help smiling at the vaguely unflattering picture of Jensen beside his name. You can never win with ID badges.
Something's off, though, and Jared's not sure what it is.
"When was the last time you had a check-up?" Jensen asks, apropos of nothing.
Jared blinks. Frowns. "Couple months ago," he says. The police force has them checked up regularly, to keep everyone in good health. He hasn't needed a sick day in years, although he did take one about six months ago to spend the day in bed, but that was because Jensen was doing this thing with his tongue and Jared didn't want it to end, not because he was sick. So.
"Don't you think it's about time you had another, Officer?"
Oh shit, Jared thinks, realizing what's going on, and getting a little light-headed with the way all the blood in his body rushes downwards. Jensen takes a step closer, smirking, and trails a finger down the middle of his chest, tripping over the buttons on his uniform shirt.
"Jesus, Jense," Jared mutters. He's already hardening, cock getting thick in his boxers, and Jensen's finger stops at his belt. Then he flicks his wrist, opening the belt up, and Jared scrambles to untuck his shirt and undershirt.
Jensen splays his hands on Jared's bare stomach, head tilted back, looking at him from behind lowered lashes. He winks, then, and turns away, vanishing into the bedroom.
"In here, Mr. Padalecki," he hears Jensen saying, loud and formal, and he can't help but follow. The bed's been stripped, just a plain white bottom sheet left, but Jared can see the corner of a blanket tucked under the bed. He swallows hard.
"Undress, please," Jensen says, still smiling. He waits, and Jared unbuttons his shirt, shrugs out of it, and steps out of his pants. His dick is hard, tenting his boxers, and he can see Jensen biting back a bigger smile. He toes off his socks and pulls his undershirt over his head, flexing deliberately, and peeks to make sure Jensen's still looking.
He is.
"Everything off," Jensen says, still sounding calm and collected, and Jared tugs his boxers off and leaves them in the pile with everything else. His cock is jutting out, already wet at the tip, and he can't help sweeping his hand down just to wrap around it for a second. Take the edge off.
"Lie down, please." Jensen's voice is a little strained, and Jared grins. Good. He climbs onto the bed and settles in the middle, on his back, cock hard against his belly. The pillows are gone, but he bets they're under the bed too. The room is comfortably warm, and Jared can feel his nipples hardening, just from Jensen's gaze on him.
Jensen's still fully dressed, obviously, and Jared lifts his head when he hears a rustle and a quiet snap.
Latex gloves. Jensen has gloves on, now, and that's just fucking weird. Jared shivers, takes a deep breath, and relaxes.
"So," Jensen says, standing at the edge of the bed, hands held in front of him, palms up. "Any complaints?"
Jared shakes his head.
"None?"
"Um. My back's kind of sore." Two hours bent over a desk will do that to you.
"Have to get someone to see to that," Jensen says, smiling. "Anything else?"
"I'm naked and I'm hard and you're not touching me," Jared says, feeling a bit stupid. He's not sure how to play this game, but Jensen's apparently got some kind of idea where it's going. He just has to trust him.
Jensen grins. "Oh, that's true. I can help with that." He climbs up to kneel beside Jared, and touches his gloved hands to Jared's chest. The gloves are strange, clinical, and a little squeaky. When Jensen rubs his fingertips over Jared's stiff nipple, the sensation is weirdly muted, and at the same time more intense.
He hears himself gasp, and he tries very hard to stay still. Jensen trails his hands down Jared's body: stroking, palpating gently, following the lines of his muscles.
"You're in really good shape," Jensen mutters, and Jared can see the gleam in his eyes. "God, your body." He's breaking character, and Jared tenses his abs under Jensen's hand just to watch him shudder.
"I work out," he says, sounding casual, and Jensen bites his lip and grins anyway.
Then Jensen reaches, circles Jared's cock in his gloved hand, and dips his fingertips in the little pool of pre-come on Jared's belly. He touches his fingertips to his lips, ponders, and then rubs the same fingers over the head of Jared's dick. He squeezes with his other hand, firm pressure intoxicating, and Jared's cock leaps in his hand.
"Fuck," Jared hisses. The gloves stick to his skin a little, the drag and friction is different, and Jensen doesn't seem to want to actually stroke him. He just squeezes his fist rhythmically, rubbing Jared's cockhead with his other fingers, face carefully schooled into indifference, and Jared's hips stutter. He spreads his knees, slides his heels up to his ass.
Jensen says, "Perfect," smiling again, and shifts so he's between Jared's knees. "A little farther, please."
God, he's so formal. So professional. Jared closes his eyes and wonders if he'll ever be able to visit Jensen at work again and listen to him talk to the other nurses, to the patients, without getting inappropriately hard. Fuck.
"I'd ask you to turn your head and cough," Jensen says, "but I think it's not necessary."
Jared has half a moment to think what? before Jensen's cupping his balls, rolling them between his gloved fingers, rubbing and fondling until Jared's shaking. He's still squeezing Jared's dick, and Jared can feel the tremors in his legs. Heat is rushing up his spine, swelling his cock in Jensen's hand, and it's all so strange and detached that he doesn't know what to think. He can feel the warmth of Jared's hands through the gloves, but like everything else it's unfamiliar.
Then Jensen's hands disappear, and he lifts his head in time to watch Jensen squirting lube all over his fingers. Jensen's kneeling between his legs, erection visible as a thick line in his scrubs pulled tight over his crotch, and Jared wants to touch it. He wants to cup his hand around Jensen's cock through his scrubs, rub him through them until he comes, makes a mess of them. He wonders if Jensen's wearing shorts underneath, or just waiting to whip it out.
Jensen's fingers, cold and slippery, touch his hole, and Jared's breath hitches as Jensen slides one finger in smoothly. It’s not uncomfortable, except that it feels like Jensen's wearing a condom on his index finger, and they haven't used condoms in ages. Jensen doesn't waste any time and feels for Jared's prostate, finding it unerringly and pressing up.
"Oh fuck," Jared gasps, hips hitching. "You do this a lot?" he asks.
Jensen laughs, shaking his head. He slips his finger out and eases it back in with a second, stretching Jared open. "Just to you, baby," he answers.
"Thank god," Jared breathes, voice breaking as Jensen presses again, and then starts to thrust his fingers shallowly, circling his spot, driving him crazy. Jared fists his hands in the sheet underneath him and arches into Jensen's hand. Jensen rubs his thumb behind Jared’s balls, massaging firmly, two fingers still deep in his ass.
"You feel so good," Jensen murmurs. He reaches up and takes Jared's dick back in his hand, slick with lube, and starts stroking this time, hand sliding fast and easy. He bends his neck and licks around the head, lapping up pre-come, and Jared doesn't know whether to thrust up into his mouth or back onto his fingers.
Jensen solves the question for him, working a third finger in alongside the other two. His thrusts are still shallow, latex-encased fingertips sliding across the bump of Jared's prostate every time, and Jared's squirming, pinned between the sensations. Pleasure shudders its way up his spine, and makes his dick pulse in Jensen's mouth.
Jensen pulls away after a few wonderful moments, and eyes him thoughtfully. Jared wets his lips nervously: that look is a calculating look. Jensen smiles, and Jared's stomach flips over.
"Think you could take another?"
The thought sends a hot pulse of want through Jared, and he clutches the sheet at his sides. His cock, wet with spit and pre-come, jerks obviously. Jared nods, finally, and says, "Yeah, do it."
Jensen's face creases with concentration, brow furrowing as Jared feels him unfold his little finger and curves his others to fit. The stretch of Jensen's four fingers starts out easy, Jared already hot and loose and aching for it, but the curve of his hand tests him. He winces and Jensen stops, stroking his other hand up Jared's thigh.
"So fucking amazing, man," Jensen mutters. Jared can feel himself squeezing down on Jensen's fingers, and his hips ache with it. "Look at you, all spread out for me."
Jared flushes, worried that he'll get so red he'll explode. Sweat prickles at his temples and armpits, the backs of his knees, and Jensen just keeps going, rocking his hand back and forth, deeper and deeper. Jensen's fingertips touch his prostate, deliberate, and he shudders so hard he almost loses Jensen's hand altogether. His head is spinning. Jensen's other hand, still gloved, tucks under his knee and pushes him a little farther apart, and he can't handle it anymore.
"Jensen, enough," he hisses, "fuck me.”
Jensen obeys, sliding his fingers out and stripping off his gloves. Jared hears them hit the floor, watches Jensen fumble with the knot on his scrubs. He is bare underneath, cock big and hard in his hand, and he gives it a few quick strokes before lining up. Jared can feel the press of the head at his hole, all wet and open, and he arches up as Jensen sinks in, filling him up.
Jensen's scrub shirt rubs against his bare chest, and Jared lets go of the sheet to grab fistfuls of it and drag Jensen down for a kiss. He bites his mouth, licks in hard and fast while Jensen pushes in and stops. Jared's knees are wide and Jensen's hips are digging into his ass, and he hooks one foot behind Jensen's ass to urge him on, even as he's kissing him, deep and dirty.
"God, fuck," Jensen groans, pulling his hips back and pushing in again. His cock slides deeper than his fingers could reach, and Jared moans into his shoulder, biting him through the fabric of his shirts. Jensen hisses, hips rolling, fucking into him nice and slow. His scrub shirt is soft and well-worn under Jared's lips, and it tastes a little like detergent, and Jared wants his mouth on skin. He yanks Jensen's collar aside and puts his mouth to Jensen's bare shoulder. Jensen thrusts in again, hard, hips smacking against Jared's ass, and Jared scrabbles for a grip of the back of his shirt.
"So," he says, while Jensen pounds into him, rocking their bodies against the bed, "Nurse Jensen.” He’s breathless and stupid and naked while Jensen is half-dressed, fuck. “You treat all your patients this nice?"
Jensen laughs, rhythm never faltering, and he looks down into Jared's face. "This is your fault, you crazy fucker," he says, panting, and he bends to kiss Jared. They can't keep it together with all the movement down below, Jensen's cock shoving deep into Jared's body over and over, filling him up so full, spreading his thighs so far apart and keeping him pinned like that. Jensen bites Jared's lower lip and tugs softly, and Jared pushes his hands up underneath Jensen's shirts to get his palms on bare skin.
Jared can feel Jensen's back flexing gloriously with every thrust, and he digs his fingernails in to hear Jensen groan. His cock is leaking and neglected between them, his balls tight and full, his whole body thrumming with the need to get off. He remembers telling Jensen to come on his dick and remembers Jensen desperate for his hand, and he wonders if Jensen can return the favor for real. He rolls his hips up into Jensen's thrusts, working himself on Jensen's thick cock, and suspects it could happen.
He doesn't get a chance to test the theory, though, because Jensen leans back, out of his reach, and grabs at Jared's hips, lifting them off the bed as he fucks him. One hand closes around Jared's dick and Jared almost cries it's so good-- so good to feel Jensen's bare hand instead of the latex, all warm and firm and real. Jensen's thumb slips over the wet head of his dick, and it all comes together at once. Jared cries out and arches up, cock stiffening impossibly as his back arches, and then he's spurting between Jensen's fingers and coating his stomach. Jensen squeezes him hard and works him through it, groaning his name, still fucking him relentlessly.
Jensen's breathing goes ragged as Jared comes down, and Jared reaches for him. Jensen's eyes close and his mouth opens as he comes, body trembling under Jared's hands. Jared pants and says, "Yes, yes, God Jense, just like that,” and Jensen groans and folds himself down over Jared's body.
Jared catches him in his arms, shoving his hands right back up his scrub shirt. He presses his face into Jensen's throat and bites him softly, and Jensen moans again and noses at his temple. Jared can feel him smiling. He ruffles his hands through Jensen's hair, and Jensen pulls out of him reluctantly. His ass is so sore, clenching at the emptiness, and the sensation makes him blush.
"I was gonna use a stethoscope," Jensen murmurs, rolling to the side and scratching idly at his belly, "and like, listen to your heart or something."
"Sexy," Jared says, reaching for him again and smoothing his hands up Jensen's arm. He pushes the sleeve of the scrub shirt up over taut muscle and smiles, still feeling a little dopey.
Jensen grins and gives him a shove, and then softens the blow by cuddling close and pressing himself along the length of Jared's body. "I got distracted," he explains. "You were a lot better at that... roleplaying thing. Before."
Jared snorts. "I could've gotten us into some serious trouble," he says, kissing Jensen's cheek. "At least you had the decency to keep it in the bedroom."
"You wanna eat?" Jensen asks, fingers skimming over Jared's stomach, which growls. "I'm sorry I jumped you before dinner."
"I'm not." Jared bites his earlobe. "Lemme shower first."
"Join you?" Jensen asks as Jared sits up, feeling deliciously used, his muscles complaining.
"Duh, yes."
Jensen grins, and Jared has to pause on his way to the bathroom to watch him pull his scrub shirt and uniform shirt over his head together. He wonders if handcuffs would be an appropriate addition to their sex life. He thinks maybe yes.