
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/373707.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jeffrey_Dean_Morgan/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jeffrey_Dean_Morgan, Jared_Padalecki
  Additional Tags:
      Suit_Porn
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-02 Words: 1534
****** Can You Feel ******
by apodiopsys
Summary
     Jeff is a work colleague of Jared's father. He fucks seventeen-year-
     old Jared against the inside of his bedroom door with one hand over
     Jared's mouth while some sort of family function goes on downstairs.
Notes
     written as a fill for the AU_Lucifer/Sam_and_Jared/JDM_comment_fic
     meme at LJ.
The thing is, at seventeen years old Jared has no right to be as hot or in
control of himself as he is. Jeffrey remembers himself at seventeen, good
looking, yes, but he was in no way as comfortable in his own skin, didn’t walk
around like he owned the place, didn’t send guys old enough to be his dad looks
from across the room. Jeff definitely didn’t go closer to them, complimenting
the color of their ties and then curling his fingers into it, tugging it tight,
tighter, tight enough that it’s snug around his throat and it’s a little hard
for him to breathe.
Apparently Jared does those things, though, all of those things and so many
others. He mixes himself gin and tonic, talks to the other CEOs and VPs like he
owns the company now instead of in a handful of years. Jeffrey doesn’t know
what it is, but he gravitates towards the boy like he’s being pulled in by a
magnet.
“My dad told me that you like bikes,” Jared tells him, tongue pressed against
the back of his teeth while he looks steadily at Jeff, too confident but not
without reason. “I’ve got my eye on one, and I was thinking that you could come
take a look at it?” He looks at him from under his eyelashes, maybe two inches
shorter than Jeff. “I’m told that once you take a ride there’s nothing else.”
This boy, all long legs with a body like a whip, makes Jeff almost week at the
knees and it’s all he can do to not break down where he is. No one even looks
twice when Jared leads him away from the party, and Jeffrey almost wonders if
this is something that he does a lot. In a way, he doesn’t want to think about
it. They’re barely outside of the room when Jared kisses him the first time; he
can still hear them, clinking glasses and talking about the economy like
they’re in complete control, but none of it matters because he’s being kissed,
hot and sharp.
It ends faster than it starts, with a loose grin and his hand curling around
Jeffrey’s wrist, pulling him up some stairs and down a hall. It’s his turn,
this time, kissing Jared. He kisses him deep, with teasing bites and rubbing
his tongue over the roof of his mouth. Jared’s hand curves around the back of
his neck, easing into the edges of his salt-and-pepper hair and he leans
against him, searching for more.
“Never,” he starts, “Never been kissed like that before,” and it makes
something jerk, hot and low, inside Jeffrey, at the fact that this isn’t
something he does a lot, at the fact that he’s the only one.
“You’ve only been kissed by boys before. This is a man’s business.”
Jared’s hand closes around the doorknob, pulls them both inside without making
them lose space between their bodies. It’s dark in the room, but Jeffrey can
make out an unmade bed, books on shelves and posters on the walls. He kisses
him again, harder, pushing him against the door with his hand going for Jared’s
belt. “Have you ever -?”
“Once,” Jared nods, tipping his head back against the door. “He wasn’t very
good.”
He make short work of his belt, pulling it out of the loops and dropping it
into the space behind him. Wide palms cup Jared through his pants, palm him
slowly. “I’ll make it good,” Jeffrey promises, leaning in to mouth at his
exposed neck. He leaves a bite at the base, at the juncture between his throat
and his shoulder, where it could be covered up with a buttoned collar. Jared’s
hands skim down the length of his back, around his waist. He unbuttons his own
pants, lets them drop around his ankles, and as he steps out of them Jeff
starts unbuttoning his shirt, exposing toned muscle and tanned skin.
Part of Jeffrey wants to drop to his knees, worship Jared with his mouth and
tongue. The other part wants to shove him against the door, take him so that
he’ll be feeling it every time he sits down for a week. He pops the button on
his jeans, tugs the zipper down and pulls Jared’s cock free, long and thick and
hard. He argues that he’s too old to be getting on his knees for seventeen-
year-old’s against the urge that pops up again and instead kisses Jared like
he’s claiming him.
Moving his hands to loosen his tie, take his jacketshirtanything off, Jared
whines low in his throat. “No,” he pulls the tie tight again, goes instead for
Jeffrey’s pants. “Want you in them. Want you dressed.”
Better men would walk away from this, fucking the bosses son under his own
roof, during a party he’s hosting. Jeffery Dean Morgan is not a better man. He
groans, noses under Jared’s jaw and presses his thumbs into the v’s of his
hips. His hands splay out across his ass, lifts him easily up so that he has
miles of leg wrapped around his waist.
It paints an almost-obscene picture: Jared, young and naked except for an
unbuttoned white dress-shirt, hanging open around his chest. Jeffrey, older and
experienced, dressed all the way down to the shining shoes, and he has an
armful of jailbait, writhing under his grip, on his fingers when he presses two
up and in without any real finesse. For Jared, being fingered open is a blur of
uncomfortable stretching and then not enough more, but he’s panting by the time
the fingers disappear.
Jeffrey asks if it’s okay, if he’s okay, and Jared nods jerkily, eyes bright
with a flush riding high on his cheeks. He feels dirty in the best possible
way, fully dressed and pushing into Jared with spit slick and nothing else.
Gravity does it’s thing, pulls Jared down towards earth, down onto Jeff’s cock
and it’s too rough and too fast and his eyes roll up in his head, jaw going
slack while soft keening noises spill out past his lips.
He takes a second, a few seconds, needs to catch his breath because Jared is
mind-numbingly hot and tight, wrapped around him like a present. He moves slow,
pushing him into the door with his hips and driving into him deep. In the back
of his mind, a little voice tells him that he’s too old for this, that his
knees and arms and every single part of him is going to be suicidal for doing
this tomorrow, but then he thinks about the way that Jared’s reacting, rocking
down and making these beautiful beautiful noises and it’s all more than worth
it.
Canting his hips up, Jared cries out so loud that his voice breaks like it
hasn’t for two years. Jeffrey clamps a hand over his mouth, leans in so his
lips are brushing over the shell of his ear. “Shh, now, boy. Wouldn’t want your
daddy coming to see why you’re yelling.” He feels him shudder, and Jeffrey
smirks, not removing his hand as he fucks up into him harder.
His whole body jerks when Jeff hits the right spot, legs tightening around his
waist. Jared’s heels dig into his lower back, trying to make him go harder,
deeper, something and anything more. He can feel him breathing ragged and moist
into his palm, hears the desperate little noises in the back of his throat.
“Yeah, just like that?” Jeff asks, slowing for the last stretch. He makes each
thrust worth more, deep inside Jared so that he can feel the drag when he pulls
out again. “Gonna come for me? Let me feel it.”
Jared makes a beautiful, agonized sound when he wraps a hand around his dick,
heavy and hard in his hand. He thrusts in deep simultaneously and Jared is
gone, biting into the palm of Jeffrey’s hand while he stripes thick strings of
white up his chest. It drags him in deep, pulls him right after and he’s
coming, hot and wet and good inside Jared with a low, drawn out moan.
After his head has cleared, he realizes that Jared’s dropped down to the floor
again, looking tired and so obviously fucked out that it almost hurts. Jeffrey
doesn’t even want to know what he looks like - what his thousand dollar suit
looks like. The fact that this is his bosses seventeen year old son or the fact
that he’s going to get fired doesn’t matter, strangely enough, because Jared is
grabbing his hand and dragging it between his legs to feel where his come is
dripping slowly out of him, slick down the back of his thighs.
Twisting his fingers up inside him, Jared makes a rough noise and squirms
deliciously, clutching at Jeffrey’s shoulders. His fingers are wet and shiny
when he pulls them out. He doesn’t ask, even means to wipe them off on
something, but then Jared is licking them, sucking them into his mouth to
taste.
His voice is gravelly, at least an octave lower than it should be when he says,
“I think we should go back down to the party.”
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