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Sinful Desire
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2006-12-22
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No One To Blame But Himself

Summary:

Because while Jensen has no one but himself to blame for suggesting Jared find a hobby, something to help him chill out and focus on and off set, it'd been Mike who'd suggested Jared learn how to knit.

Notes:

Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on Sinful Desire collection profile.

Work Text:

Title: No One To Blame But Himself
Characters: Jensen/Jared
Rating:/Word Count NC-17; 3, 192
Beta: This fic would like to thank its beta of badassery, technosage, for making certain that it didn’t suck. ♥
Disclaimer: I don’t own Jared or Jensen, I’m not affiliated with them, and none of the following ever happened. Of that, I can be certain.
Summary: Because while Jensen has no one but himself to blame for suggesting Jared find a hobby, something to help him chill out and focus on and off set, it’d been Mike who’d suggested Jared learn how to knit.
Notes: Written for the angsty!Jen to my rambly!Jay, poisontaster on the occasion of her birthday. I love you more than pie, babycakes. Even the pumpkin kind. ♥

Really, Jensen has no one to blame for this but himself.

“You’ve got no one to blame but yourself,” Tom confirms, saluting him with a beer and a smirk as he lifts a bottle of Molson to lips Jensen wouldn’t mind feeling split under his knuckles at that moment.

Jensen slides lower into his chair, arms crossed tight against his chest as he glares at the door. Like that’s gonna make anything happen. He’s familiar with the old cliché of a watched pot never boils. It’s not much of a departure to assume that a watched door won’t open and magically produce a six-feet four incarnation of dark, sloppy hair and slanted, grinning eyes.

He mumbles “Eat me” to Tom beneath his breath and nearly misses Tom’s answering sneer.

“Sorry, not a big fan of sausage.”

A shadow falls across the table, and Rosenbaum drags a chair over and props both elbows on top. His sharp gaze flicks from Tom’s lazy demeanor, to Jensen’s irritated expression, to the conspicuously empty seat next to Jensen, and then he grins. “Where’s your better half tonight, Jen?”

Jensen flips Mike the bird. “You can eat me, too.” He’s way too tired to come up with anything more original.

His gaze narrows on Michael’s stupid pink striped shirt and then Jensen remembers that, you know, he doesn’t really even like bald guys. Which makes it easy enough to add, “This is all your fault.”

Mike lifts a brow, although there’s no doubt he knows exactly what Jensen’s talking about. His expression is completely innocent when he tilts his head and questions, “Que?

Jensen leans forward, lowering his voice to a hiss. “If you hadn’t given him that damn book, he’d—”

The door to the bar flies open on a gust of snowy wind and ice, and Jared comes bursting in, flushed from the cold and coat buttoned in haphazard distraction. He meets Jensen’s eyes and his face lights up before he lifts a hand in an enthusiastic wave that once upon a time would’ve made Jensen hide under the table. As it is, he’s two seconds away from running across the room, grabbing hold of his co-star by his longass legs and never letting go again.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Jared’s saying, jerking off his coat and throwing it over the back of his chair. He plops down with a soft oof that sends a rush of cologne and fresh air and Jared wafting under Jensen’s nose. Jensen’s immediately hard and aching, clenching his fingers into fists on top of his thighs. Jared greets Tom and Mike, and Jensen only jumps a little when Jared’s huge hand slips under the table and gently prods his fingers wide open again.

“Where ya been?” Tom asks, knowing damn well already, and Jensen wants to wipe away the smug amusement from his friend’s pretty features with Chlorox bleach. Or hydrochloric acid.

As predicted, Jared’s features turn animated and his voice lifts with genuine excitement, fingers tightening around Jensen’s. “I was reading over that book Mike loaned me, lost track of the time. I’m working on knitting Harley a new bed. How fucking cool is that?”

And there it is, in a nutshell. The current cause of disaster and unrest in Jensen’s life. Because apparently it’s just not enough that he’s ass over elbows for his best friend, his co-star - the guy who openly admits to having a Tom Cruise poster in his trailer and owns all of the Homeward Bound movies because he thinks it’s hilarious that the animals can talk.

But that’s just, well, that’s just Jared. Jensen’s had ample time to get used to it and really, it’s pretty damn refreshing to find someone as completely out of touch with how an adult should act as Jared Padalecki. On anyone else, it’d probably be annoying, but with Jared…

Well, it’s just Jared.

It also helps that Jared’s sexy as all hell and can kiss and fuck like it’s an Olympic sport and he’s going for the Gold. Yeah, that helps a lot.

“It’s a good book.” Mike’s nodding, chowing down on Tom’s plate of cheese fries, and Jensen wants to strangle him with the string of purple and green Mardi Gras beads hanging off the shelf behind them. And then maybe draw a dick on his face with permanent marker. For symbolic purposes.

Because while Jensen has no one but himself to blame for suggesting Jared find a hobby, something to help him chill out and focus on and off set, it’d been Mike who’d suggested Jared learn how to knit.

How to knit, for Christ’s sake.

And here’s the thing. Jensen’s aware he’s not the most heterosexual of men…like, at all. Kind of hard to claim that when he spends most nights groaning into a pillow, ass in the air as his co-star fucks him wide open until filthy curses stain his lips. Oh, and there’s also the whole blowing Jared in his trailer every day during lunch. So yeah, he has nothing against men doing…whatever.

But knitting?

And the real pisser is that Jared makes it look good; with fingers whose length and dexterity Jensen can personally attest to, Jared’s a fucking natural. Jensen’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten hard watching Jared loop thread and yarn, clacking away with those huge scary needles, intense concentration coloring his features that Jensen’s only ever seen when Jared was pounding away at his ass.

He shifts in his seat, jaw clenched tight against the rush of blood to his cock. It’s been days since he’s gotten quality time alone with Jared, and his body’s definitely taken notice. He’d hoped tonight would end the drought, but now Jared’s talking about visiting the craft store with Mike, and the images those words produce are almost enough to scare Jensen straight again.

Before he even realizes what’s happening, Jared’s patting him on the leg, and then he and Mike are shrugging on their coats and Jensen’s left alone with Tom, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement at Jensen’s disappointment.

“He’s acting like such a fucking bitch lately,” Jensen mutters, feeling mean and rejected, and he drains the rest of his drink before plunking the glass on the table.

Tom pops a fry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “And yet, you’re the one taking it up the ass. Weird, huh?”

Jensen’s eyes narrow. Tom just smiles again and says, “Such a little bitch, Jen.”


 

♥ ♥ ♥




When he arrives on set the next day to find Jared already in his director’s chair, pink tongue caught between his teeth as he fiddles with an unrecognizable wad of yarn, Jensen’s ready to shoot someone in the face. Instead, he walks over and sits in his own chair, watching Jared as his friend mutters something beneath his breath about patterns and stitches.

“Hey,” Jensen finally says, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Hold this,” Jared answers absently, shoving the yarn at Jensen as he uses his teeth to knot something on the end of one of the needles.

Jensen stares down at the mess in his lap, lifting the pale green and blue yarn and blinking. “What the…is this a hat?”

Jared pulls a wounded face, contradicting the mischievous spark in his eyes. “No, it’s a sweater. For you. Says I heart Sam Winchester. Don’t you like it?”

“Uh…”

“It’s…you know, I have no fucking idea what it is.” Jared blows out a little laugh, meeting Jensen’s gaze and dimpling. “It’s soothing, though, ya know? The process.”

“Soothing,” Jensen parrots, flipping the not-hat and wincing a bit at the pattern. He supposes it’s kind of reassuring to know that despite his enthusiasm, Jared obviously sucks ass at the whole knitting nightmare.

He drops the yarn back in his lap, bouncing his feet and curling his fingers up into fists. There’s a weird and itchy feeling just under his skin, and he wonders if this is what it’s like to be hyper.

Or Jared.

“Yeah,” Jared’s saying, looking up at him from beneath the fringe of his hair and lashes. “It’s really relaxing, man. I can see why women do it.”

“You’re not a woman,” Jensen’s a little too quick to point out.

“Glad you noticed.” Jared gives him an oddly amused look, then chuckles quietly and turns his attention back to his project. There’s a beat of silence, and then Jared says in a voice filled with sly innuendo, “You seem kinda tense, Jen. Maybe you should find a hobby. I could loan you that book Mike gave me, and then maybe—”

“Fuck no.” Jensen nearly chokes on the words, feeling heat work its way up his cheeks. Jared just arches a brow and shrugs his shoulders. “And why would I need a hobby, anyway? I’m…I’m perfectly relaxed.”

“Oh, totally.” Now Jared’s voice is soft and mocking, his eyes trained where Jensen’s nails are digging into his palms.

“I am, damn it.” Jensen’s voice has a defensive snap to it. “I don’t need to make a…a hat or a bed for my dog out of some stupid yarn to relax.”

“You don’t have a dog.”

Jensen glares, and Jared clears his throat before swallowing the laugh Jensen can see building behind those twinkling eyes. “You’re driving me nuts,” he mutters, sinking lower and pouting.

“Well, in that case…” Jared says in a low murmur. “Let me finish this stitch and we can go back to your trailer, so I can bend you over the couch, shove my dick up your tight ass and fuck you slow and stupid. It’ll soothe you.”

Jensen’s retort dies on his tongue, throat closing up at Jared’s words. When his voice comes, it’s husky and ragged. “Uh, yeah…that sounds…good.”

Jared’s grin is blinding, and Jensen wonders what he was even upset about in the first place. An hour later, he’s watching through half-lidded eyes as his co-star presses openmouthed kisses along his belly, meeting Jared’s dark gaze and sighing.

“Tom thinks I’m your bitch,” he says, voice lazy and slurred as he combs his fingers through Jared’s hair. “So does Mike, probably.”

“Hmm,” is all Jared says, nibbling Jensen’s hip hard enough to drag a throaty curse from his lips. “Maybe because you keep letting me fuck you?”

Jensen scowls, but Jared’s voice is completely sincere, which is exactly why it’s impossible to get mad at the guy. And Jensen’s tried. But all it takes is one look from those soulful eyes and Jensen’s buckling under – or bending over, as the case may be. Still, it doesn’t mean he can’t get irritated with himself for being such a dick-whipped jerkoff. “I don’t let anyone do shit.”

“I love you.”

It comes out so easy and natural and true that it’s even more of a punch to the gut. Jensen lets out a shaky breath even as similar words threaten to rise up and choke him. “Dude, you’re the emotional one, and you fucking knit,” he manages instead, turned on and thrumming beneath his skin. “Why do I always take it?”

Jared lifts his head, a small smile playing along the edges of his lips, and Jensen just knows that Jared’s aware of the chaos his words have caused. But instead of pressing Jensen, he just climbs up and over him, rubbing his swollen cock along Jensen’s belly. “Because you’re a slut for my dick, baby,” he purrs, dropping a kiss on Jensen’s chin.

Jensen snorts, but he lets Jared roll him over onto his stomach. He buries his head in his arms and mutters, “Bitch.”

“Know what your problem is, Jen?” Jared murmurs, licking a slow trail up Jensen’s spine. Jensen shudders under him, breathing fast and biting into his lip so hard he feels it split, coppery blood coating his tongue. Jared keeps talking, laying down light tongue-flicks in between words. “You’re tense. You need to just learn to face facts.”

“What…” Jensen’s voice cracks a little when those big hands press deep into the sore muscles below his shoulders, kneading and teasing. “What fucking f-facts?”

Jared laughs low in his throat, and Jensen’s a little annoyed – but mostly turned on – that in everything else Jared seems absentminded and naïve , but in this…in this he’s a fucking aggressive bastard who knows just how to get what he wants. Jared’s voice is silky-sweet when he purrs in Jensen’s ear, “You’re obsessed, Jensen.”

“With what?”

Soft, warm lips close around Jensen’s ear lobe, and he bucks back against Jared’s hips. “With me,” Jared whispers, hands knuckled on either side of Jensen’s head. Jensen can feel the brush of Jared’s hair on his cheek, and squeezes his eyes shut on a helpless groan. “With my body. Right?”

“Fuck you, man,” he whines, arching back again and hissing at the feel of Jared’s erection pressed up hard against his ass.

“Seriously.” There’s a hint of satisfaction weighing down Jared’s words now. “You suck my dick like a baby with a pacifier.”

“Fuck you!” Jensen rolls over and finds himself staring into Jared’s flushed, excited features, and swallows a groan. “Jay, c’mon…just…”

“I’m hard right now.” Jared grins, chewing on his lower lip and letting it slide out of his mouth again with a slick, dirty pop. He brings his face right up to Jensen’s, and Jensen tries to sit up, to catch those sweet-soft wide lips with his own. “Bet your mouth’s watering, huh, Jen?”

Jensen’s eyes flick from Jared’s smug grin to the hard curve of his dick, flushed and leaking against Jensen’s hip. He licks his lips without thinking, and Jared groans and rolls forward.

“S’okay,” Jared whispers, throat working as he brings a thumb up to Jensen’s mouth, plucking and pulling at the tender flesh. “I’m pretty fuckin’ addicted to you, too, Jen. Especially to screwing these pretty pink lips.”

Jensen does not shudder at that. It’s just…someone left the damn air conditioner on, and he’s cold. That’s all. And Jared’s freakishly warm, which is the only reason he reaches out, grabs those lean hips and drags Jared up across his chest. “Shut up and do it then,” he says hoarsely, breath catching as Jared’s dick flirts toward his mouth.

Those normally wide and friendly eyes are slitted and almost full black now, and Jensen feels a dizzying thrill when Jared chokes out an oath under his breath before reaching up and splaying his palms flat against the wall. The first thrust burns against Jensen’s mouth, then he opens and lets Jared’s dick in, curling his tongue along the underside.

“Shit.” Jared’s voice is a guttural gasp. He’s staring down at Jensen, watching his cock disappear between Jensen’s lips, and bites down into his own before rocking forward again. “So pretty like this, baby.”

Jensen reaches up, palming Jared’s hips while sucking gently. He’d never admit it out loud, but Jared’s right…there’s little he likes more than this, than Jared’s thick cock stretching his mouth wide open. Unless maybe it’s having it in his ass.

He blames Jared for that.

As he mouths along Jared’s length, listening to the filthy chorus of curses spilling from Jared’s throat, the weird, anxious feelings that have been plaguing him all week start to fade away. He’s not sure why sucking and fucking Jared seems to serve as a sedative for his nerves, and there’s a part of himself that figures he probably doesn’t want to know.

He may be a bitch, but he’s not a damn woman.

“I love you so fucking much,” Jared gasps above him, and Jensen revises his previous thought. He might not be a woman, but Jared…Jared definitely is. But instead of wanting to laugh and mock his friend, Jensen’s hit with a warm wave of emotion that has him pulling harder with his lips, thumbs rolling in soothing circles along Jared’s waist.

“Jen…wanna…” Jared swallows, golden skin flushed and slick with perspiration. He meets Jensen’s lidded gaze and whispers, “I wanna fuck you.”

Jensen releases his dick, spitting out “Hell, yeah.” That’s apparently all the motivation Jared needs, because not even a minute later Jensen’s gritting his teeth and trying not to squirm as Jared lifts his leg higher, cock teasing Jensen’s fingered hole.

“You don’t mind bein’ my bitch, do ya?” Jared buries his nose in Jensen’s neck, voice a slur of thickened vowels and helpless need. He presses harder, and Jensen feels himself open up wide at the familiar but long-denied intrusion.

“N-No,” he admits, husky and truthful. He shifts and can’t hold back the growl when Jared slides deeper, sending heat spreading outward from the inside. “I love you fucking me.”

“That’s not all you love.”

It’s whispered against his skin, and Jensen’s eyes squeeze shut seconds before Jared starts fulfilling the promise he’d made on-set – fucking Jensen slow and stupid. Jensen reaches down between them, grasping his cock and tugging on it in tandem with Jared’s thrusts.

“Good?” Jared pants, driving deep and swiveling his hips so that his dick brushes the sweet-spot inside. Jensen groans and lifts his own hips.

“Better than watching you knit your dog a fucking hat, yeah.”

Jared’s laugh is low and shaky. “Wasn’t a hat…I told you.”

“You don’t…know what the hell…it was,” Jensen hisses out, jerking himself harder as Jared speeds up. “Christ, Jay, you fucking bastard. Make me come.”

“It’s disgusting how much you love me.”

Jensen jerks in surprise, staring into Jared’s knowing eyes. A hint of panic edges his voice when he stammers, “Don’t be such a—”

“Bitch?” Jared purrs, lips curved. He pulls back, almost completely out, and the panic grows. But before Jensen can say or do anything, Jared’s buried deep inside him again. His eyes are soft and shining. “You don’t have to worry, Jen. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

Jensen covers his face with his arm, feeling transparent and ridiculous. “You’d rather fondle those bigass needles all day than my dick,” he mutters, expecting to hear Jared’s booming laughter any minute because, hell, it is hilarious. He’s jealous of Jared’s new fascination with a big ball of yarn.

But Jared doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t stop thrusting with his cock. Just nudges Jensen’s cheek with his nose until Jensen lowers his arm, and then warm lips press up against his own. He chews at Jared’s lips, tasting spit and toothpaste and himself all mingled up on his tongue, and then Jared fucks into him so hard he chokes off a groan. Velvet-silk splashes coat his fingers, and then Jared goes still against him, letting out the sweetest growl Jensen’s ever heard as he fills Jensen up with slick heat.

They keep kissing and Jensen keeps jacking himself after the fact in slow, leisurely strokes. Jared pulls away a few beats later, eyes heavy and dark as he licks his mouth. “What a good little bitch,” he murmurs, and this time Jensen’s the one to laugh.

“Yeah, I love you, too.”

Jared grins, happy and pleased, and Jensen knows everything’s gonna be just fine. And he can blame them both for that.