dime_liora | Welcome to the Big Rip

Title: Welcome to the Big Rip
Author:

dimeliora
Fandom: SPN RPF
Wordcount: 3,519
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Prompt(s): Written for the J2/SPN Christmas Exchange, as a gift for the lovely and wonderful

waterofthemoon.
Disclaimer: None of this happened. In this universe anyway.
Summary: Dr. Jensen Ackles has been invited to the military science town of Big Rip. He likes it there, minus the confusion created by one of the town's local DJs. (A sort of appropriation of Welcome to the Night Vale.)

There were a wealth of things that Jensen loved about his new assignment to the small military town of Big Rip. Sure, he was working for the Army again, and yeah, they were basically developing new super weapons, but a fair number of the break-throughs they were having could be applied to non-weapons technology. His team was composed of excellent scientists, all of them brilliant and forward thinking. The government supplied apartment was spacious and comfortable, all of his groceries were free, and he was allowed to work on anything he liked in his spare time with the labs at his disposal.

In fact, other than not terribly liking the weapons aspect Jensen was fond of everything about his new life. Except for the radio show. It took him two weeks to figure out that what everyone was listening to was a live feed. Another week to figure out that the DJ who ran it was purposefully sounding crazy instead of accidentally.

The question remained why. Why he would do that, and why people enjoyed it, because the nonsense that got spewed every night from the tinny speakers in the lab made Jensen’s head hurt. It didn’t help that the DJ had a voice that curled his toes and occasionally gave him a partial erection. But all the arousal the voice itself inspired was killed by the nonsensical nature of the words themselves.

We are going to have a conversation. This conversation will consist of words and feelings, and both of those things will have a web of connections and meanings that only you and I get, and even then we don’t really get the other’s. In this conversation you will give and receive, and I will supply and take. When it’s over you’ll feel fulfilled, satisfied, and potentially slightly lethargic. And I? I will sip slowly on the memory of that moment and let it carry me through the rigors of my daily grind.

At first Jensen thought that if he tried hard enough he could make sense of some of it. He even thought that perhaps it was a long-standing community joke, that maybe he’d simply missed the story that explained why it was so funny when DJ Jared said that the local library was haunted by the bickering ghosts of Lenin and Stalin, or the time he insisted that the trees outside his building were pruning themselves because appearance is important, and most memorably the two hour discussion he led on the political importance of Sno-Cones.

But none of it made sense. Nothing clarified, nothing bettered, and at the end of the three hour program Jensen was left with nothing more than a vague disquiet that logic and reason had taken another hit and he didn’t seem bothered to the proper extent.

Three months into his new life the situation with the DJ became something a little less amusing and a little more dire. In the sense that Jensen became the butt of DJ Jared’s madness.

I saw the new head of the lab today. I believe that he is himself an experiment. Has any man in the history of the earth been that pretty? Naturally? There was of course Mrs. O’Connell’s attempt at making a date for the Jaycee’s dance, but we all know how that ended. The tower at the Putt-Putt course has never recovered from the fire damage. No, I believe that Jensen is the military’s newest and most successful weapon against mankind: the perfect distraction.

The team thought it was hilarious. Chris actually had a new nametag made for Jensen with a fake security clearance on it and the title “Distraction, Perfect T.” If that wasn’t bad enough Genevieve began to follow Jensen around with tools insisting that she should be allowed to test him and assure the world of his natural born human status. He almost didn’t catch her once before the forceps made contact.

Jensen didn’t think it was as funny, and eventually what seemed a simple introductory joke began to border on harassment.

Dear Listeners, is it possible that the good doctor is secretly in love with me as I am in with him? I see him out and about, carrying his papers and flashing those unnatural eyes but he never speaks to me. I say it is pointed, our sportscaster Chad says it’s due to a lack of recognition, but that can’t be true. How could he not recognize the one man who seems to truly understand his mission in life? The never-ending quest to destroy the population with sexual tension. That’s it my friends, he is not the head of the weapons development division, he is their weapon.

After that suddenly everyone seemed obsessed with making Jensen recognize DJ Jared when he was out and about. The town itself wasn’t small enough that Jensen could find any explanation for why every time he went somewhere he was told that DJ Jared had just been, had left only moments ago, wouldn’t Jensen like to chase after him?

No. No he absolutely would not.

I was speaking to the trees again today. They’re looking very dapper for the upcoming fall, and assure me that this season’s colors will once again be red, orange, and gold. No one knows the trends better I am afraid. Somehow, the subject of a certain sexy scientist weapon came up, and the trees specifically asked me when I would be talking him into visiting our studio and giving his own voice to this discussion about himself. You could ask, the trees said, where he is from, what he likes to do, and if he is free on Saturday night. Well I can answer the first question trees, he is from a test tube of amazing, but the second two are open for debate.

“The trees Jensen. The trees told him to ask you out. It’s destiny.”

He honestly could not tell if Genevieve was joking. What he did know, for certain, was that this madness needed to end.

---

The ridiculously attractive Dr. Jensen Ackles came to see me today in the studio. He didn’t consent to being recorded, but I promise you I have committed every moment to memory. I will only share the relevant ones. He says that he did not come from a test tube, but from Richardson, Texas. I’m not sure how much I believe that, as I am also a Texas boy and have never seen my admittedly awesome home state produce anything that beautiful. He told me that he came here to work, and seemed particularly unimpressed with my detailed accounts regarding the town’s news. I’m sorry for that, but as a journalist with integrity I’m afraid I can only report as much of the truth as the censors will allow me to share with you good people. The rest you know even if you are afraid to say. Most importantly Jensen, as I am now calling him since we have shaken hands and learned that we are soulmates, says that he is free Saturday night, and will be taking me to dinner. Now, if you’ll excuse me friends, I am apparently no longer in contact with the ground and my station manager insists that this is a health hazard. Let’s play some music while we try to reinstate the laws of gravity.

Jensen was unprepared for Commander Whitfield running into the lab and giving him a whooping slap to the shoulder. This was going to end badly.

----

Jared was late. Twenty minutes late and Jensen was beginning to believe that all the talk about sexual attraction and love was another part of Jared’s running on-air delusions that Jensen had unfortunately bought into. Everyone in the restaurant was staring, and that wasn’t helping his nerves in the least.

When the chair across from him scraped the floor and pulled him out of his reverie Jensen imagined that this story would either be very good, or batshit insane.

“I’m so sorry. Really. The dogs got into the peanut butter again and when Harley gets the jar open it always ends up everywhere. This time everywhere included my date night pants.”

If Jared had different pants set aside for dates Jensen wasn’t sure he wanted to see them. The ones he was currently wearing hugged his slim hips and tight ass like a second skin, accentuated the miles of leg the taller man had, and left nothing to the imagination when it came to Jared being proportional.

“Have you considered putting the peanut butter in a cabinet where it will be harder for them to reach?”

Jared’s slanted eyes widened, brightened, and then he leaned forward laughing.

“These are big dogs Jensen. About your size, but maybe closer to mine. They laugh in the face of ‘hard to reach’.”

“You have dogs your size? What are they mutants?”

“Cross-breeds from the planet Canineon. The Earth dogs helped cut down their size a bit but their stomachs are still too-you really hate when I do that huh?”

Jensen must have made a face. He couldn’t tell, didn’t feel like he was making a face, but maybe he was. Something that conveyed that when Jared started talking like that Jensen had no real indication if he was lying or not, and didn’t care for the confusion.

“It’s not the easiest thing in the world to listen to.” He straightened his fork and then looked up to see the brief flash of hurt being consumed by that jovial smile. Dimples. Jared had dimples.

“I have a pretty good audience. Fairly devoted. But I can tone it down for you if you think it would make this date go better.”

The waiter arrived just in time to hear the end of that, shoot Jensen an ugly look, and then plop his food down practically in his lap before smiling and carefully placing Jared’s.

“I can see that.” Dry. Too dry Jensen, it’s a goddamn date. But it was already out and there was no taking it back. “It’s one thing on the air when you’re doing that persona. I’d like to date the real you if it’s alright.”

Jared paused for a moment, burger halfway to his mouth, and then put it down and smiled, pink lips stretching over bright white teeth.

“Yeah. Yeah I think we can do that.”

It was a start.

---

A false one. Real Jared, it turned out, wasn’t all that different from DJ Jared. To be specific, the only thing that changed was the subject of the stories. Both Jareds were overly bright, constantly active, and always positive. Both of them were made of funny anecdotes, wacky stories, and a questionable amount of veracity. Both of them made Jensen hard and crazy at the same time.

“So there we were, surrounded by Japanese business men and being told that it was our responsibility to drink to build up courage for the inevitable ninja attack when-“

“Jared.”

They’d been on sixteen dates, each one better and worse than the last, and currently they were on Jensen’s couch with Jared draped over his lap eating popcorn and telling one of his ridiculous stories.

“Yes?”

“Stop. Did you have a good time tonight?”

Jared’s eyes are wide, guileless, and he shoves in too much popcorn and then smiles around it.

“Excellent. Excellent time.”

Jensen rubs butter off of Jared’s lips and then sucks it off his thumb without thinking. Watches Jared’s eyes droop for a second before the younger man surges up and kisses him. It’s an awkward angle, but Jesus it’s just as good as it was the first time they kissed by the library’s fountain after Jared told him he met a mermaid there.

He’s hard, hungry for it, and there’s no question in Jensen’s mind that this will be the night he sees Jared naked for the first time, but he does wonder if they’ll be able to make it to the actual sex without any lunacy rearing its head.

“I want you. But you can’t make this a crazy story. Do you understand me?”

There’s the flash of hurt again, and then Jared is shifting all his great length around and straddling Jensen’s lap, his erection pressed tight against Jensen’s through their pants and impossible to ignore.

“Sure Jen. No crazy stories at all.” And then Jared leans in, big hand cupping his jaw and tilting his face so that they can properly kiss each other. Lips pressing against lips, tongues sliding together, and Jared moving sinuously against him all adds up to the perfect moment. Jensen works the buttons on Jared’s shirt as he tries to take control of the situation again.

His pulse is pounding, heart pumping blood too fast as he gets his hands under the soft material of Jared’s undershirt and against the taut skin over his ribs. This is it, this is happening, and Jensen has never been happier. He slips his hands around Jared’s ribs and digs his fingers into the meat at the top of Jared’s ass, eats the moan out of Jared’s mouth, and wonders the best way to get Jared off the couch and into bed.

Except apparently that’s not the plan because seconds after the tip of his finger brushes the top of Jared’s crack the DJ is sliding onto his knees on the ground and fumbling with Jensen’s belt.

It hits him about the same time Jared is pulling out his cock.

“Don’t talk about this on the radio.”

Jared’s grin is dark, lascivious, and then he’s wrapping those plush pink lips around Jensen’s cock and sinking down. Hot, wet, Jensen isn’t sure where he wants to put his hands as Jared swallows more and more of him. The guy can deepthroat, and it’s more than Jensen could ever have hoped for. He settles on sliding one hand into Jared’s hair and the other swipes fingertips along Jared’s stretched out lips, the little mole he’s stared at so much, and down along the line of Jared’s throat.

“God look at you. Just look at you.”

And he can’t stop. Can’t stop staring at the way Jared’s eyes light up with every moan Jensen lets out, the flush to his cheeks as he works Jensen’s cock, and the sight of his big hands spread out on Jensen’s thighs as those long fingers twitch and shift against his muscles. It won’t happen tonight, that’s not the direction this is headed in, but Jensen can picture those fingers spearing him open and stretching him out.

It hits a point where he knows, knows that if he doesn’t make things move along it’s going to end just like this with Jared on his knees swallowing Jensen’s cock to the root. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not what he wants either.

“Jay, Jared, come on up.”

Jared works his own pants open, shucks them and his boxers as he climbs up and drops a packet of lube into Jensen’s hand before he leans forward and balances himself so that his ass is presented to Jensen’s hands as he rips the condom packet open and works it down Jensen’s hard length. Jared might be fond of spinning lunatic stories, but he’s apparently boy-scout prepared.

Observation becomes a major part of the process. How Jared swallows thickly before moaning when Jensen’s finger breaches him, the way his pink tongue wets his lips, how his eyes darken and narrow while he rides Jensen’s fingers, and each new reaction makes Jensen think that maybe they should have just tried blowjobs the first time. This isn’t going to last long.

Stretched and prepped Jared angles Jensen’s cock and then looks over his shoulder to aim while he lowers himself slowly. It’s a tight fit, and there are stops and starts, but Jensen enjoys stroking Jared’s hips, holding still and watching the ever shifting expressions in those luminous eyes as Jared works himself open.

Then it’s just the sounds of their breath racing, moaning as Jensen starts moving his hips in little circles, working himself in deeper and deeper until he’s fully buried in Jared’s heat with his mouth pressed against the sharp line of Jared’s collarbone. The guy sweats, he’s slick and hot everywhere, and he responds well to nibbling, to Jensen lapping at his nipples, and to Jensen digging his fingers into the meat of Jared’s ass and leading his pace.

He’s usually quiet during sex, but something about Jared makes his mouth move without his brain controlling it.

“That’s it baby, fuck yes, ride me. Ride me hard.”

Jared responds, hips snapping and muscular thighs flexing as he moves up and down on Jensen’s dick, big hands resting on Jensen’s shoulders for balance.

“Shit, shit Jensen, so fucking big. Oh my god!” Jared’s back arches and he reaches one hand down, searching for his own dick, but Jensen knocks it away and takes up the job himself. His still lube slick hand grasps Jared’s girth and works it, fingers flexing along the shaft and causing Jared to flutter tightly around him in response.

He starts jerking his hips faster, driving up into Jared deeper and deeper, and once again his mouth escapes him.

“Talk Jared. I wanna hear that voice of yours. Talk to me while you ride my dick.”

And Jared talks, voice ragged and broken but still sensual, still warm and inviting the same as his body.

“Jesus, oh shit, Jensen, Jensen it’s so good. It feels so fucking good. Your strong hands and your big dick moving me, the way you flex it like- oh fuck like that and, your face is, oh shit the look on your face.”

He’s close, orgasm building and hand moving faster along Jared’s dick as he tries to make sure they get there at the same time if not as close as possible.

“What about my face?”

“Amazing. The most-oh shit Jensen- the most amazing face in the history of faces and so- so focused on me riding you like I’m some experiment you’re- oh, oh God. I- I- fuck I’m-!”

His back arches hard, head tilting and long hair brushing his shoulders as his ass becomes a vice and his cock spurts over Jensen’s hand. Jensen lasts for another half dozen thrusts, and then he’s spilling into the condom and resting his forehead against Jared’s sweaty chest as he pants his way back to coherency.

They make it to the bed to sleep at least.

----

Listeners, Listeners, I have found something better than knowing that the secret Library Police are no longer on my trail, more exciting than our expose on the lake monster, and more life-changing than my ride on a unicorn. Love, Listeners. I have found love, and the remarkable and handsome Dr. Jensen Ackles is the one who was hiding it for me. If you see him on the street make sure to compliment him on his decision to move in with me even though he’ll have to put up with the still rather annoying ghost in my pantry. Jensen doesn’t believe, but we all know he’ll have to deal with its organizational system eventually. On a less personal note, it’s Saturday, and we all know what that means. Time to check and make sure time has not slipped away from us. As one let’s all look at our traitorous clocks and assure ourselves that it is exactly 3:01.

---

“Jared!” Jensen was stacking cans in the pantry, listening to Jared’s dogs clack across the tile floor in the kitchen as he tried to find where he’d just put the Minestrone cans.

Shuffling footsteps, a long arm wrapping around his waist, and lips pressed against his neck told Jensen that his boyfriend had arrived.

“Yes, Jensen?”

“Did I put the Minestrone in the bags? I’m starting to forget everything.”

Jared chuckled in his ear and one large hand came into view and pointed to the soup cans in question resting on the second shelf.

“Minestrone. Right there in the M’s like it should be.”

“I did not alphabetize your pantry. I am not that OCD.”

“Of course you didn’t. The ghost did.”

Jensen tried to remember how long he was gone to get the last bags out of the car. Was it enough time for Jared to slip into the kitchen and rearrange the cans? Of course it was.

“Oh ha ha. Very funny Jared. Didn’t we talk about this ridiculousness?”

There was that slight tension that always came when Jensen questioned Jared’s stories, and then his boyfriend kissed his hair again before slipping away without a word. Now Jensen would have to listen to at least three crazy anecdotes without comment just to avoid the silent treatment.

He plucked up the canned tomatoes, dropped them next to the Minestrone, and then turned back to the bag for the last can.

Jensen froze, can clutched in one hand and eyes wide as he saw that the tomatoes had been moved three shelves down, right after the salsa, and the spot next to the Minestrone was empty.

Well, fuck.

Current Mood: anxious
Current Music: "Counting Stars"-One Republic