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Roleplay	By : AlishaV Category: Individual Celebrities > Jensen Ackles Views: 3739 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Supernatural characters, nor do I know Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. This is total fiction, on which I make absolutely no money. (Sad but true.)

Chapter List
- 1-Roleplay
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
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It was probably only a few minutes that they continued to kiss.
Kiss is such a silly, insipid little word, though. Isn’t it? People kiss their moms, their babies. What Jared and Jensen did was devour each other. Teeth clashing, tongues duelling, breath coming in hot, panted growls – it probably was only a few minutes, but it felt like so much longer.
Jared’s big hands were freakin’ everywhere. They tangled in Jensen’s short hair – angling his head just so. They snuck up under Jensen’s shirt, raking across and hard the lines of his back, and then clawed their way lower to grope and squeeze his ass. His long index finger stroked the denim seam between Jensen’s butt cheeks, slipping down low so that Jensen shuddered and gasped and became dimly aware that he was humping his friend’s body with the same vacant enthusiasm Harley, Jared’s dog, humped the couch cushions.
His inner conscience chose that moment to pipe up, telling Jensen that if he didn’t stop – and stop right now – his and Jared’s friendship would be over.
Irrevocably.   Irrefutably. Over.
That truth didn’t still Jensen’s hips, however. Didn’t make his hands quit groping or his tongue quit tasting, because...Oh, Jesus Christ – because he was close. He was just so fucking close.
And it felt sooo fucking good.
Jared wasn’t in any better shape. He was bucking his hips up to meet Jensen’s and making these high, wolfish whines way in the back of his throat. The sound was like nothing Jensen had ever heard. It was driving him wild. After one more bruising kiss, he tore himself away from Jared’s lips, ducking down to open his mouth over his friend’s carotid artery.
Jensen set his teeth deep, lapping and sucking at Jared’s jackrabbit pulse.
“Oh, God!” One of Jared’s hands reached up to grab the slats of his headboard. The wood creaked ominously. His other hand crushed Jensen’s face against him so that Jensen felt suffocated – drowned in Jared’s spicy-sweet scent and sweat-slick skin. Not a bad way to go, actually. “Harder,” Jared moaned, hips churning. “Fuck, Jen!”
So Jensen bit harder. He knew he was leaving bruises – big bruises that Jared wouldn’t be able to hide – he knew, but he just couldn’t make himself care.
As Jensen slip-slid down Jared’s body, teasing, biting, sucking every inch of skin he could reach, he brought his knees inside of Jared’s own. When he latched onto Jared’s left nipple his friend’s mile-long legs clamped themselves around his waist. The words ‘fuck’ and ‘Jen’ fell in a continuous litany from his lips:
“Fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen...”
Jensen groaned and thrust into the cradle of Jared’s crotch, just as if he actually were fucking him. As if he were plunging deep and hard into his friend’s body. There was a loud crack as the slat Jared had been hanging on to suddenly gave way. His back arched, perfect muscles straining, and his lips peeled back from his teeth.
It was, bar none, the sexiest thing Jensen had ever seen.
“Oh, fuck,” Jared choked out one final time before his body convulsed. “Jen!”
***
Neither of them heard the front door open, nor the thud of Genevieve’s purse hitting the foyer floor. The first hint they had of her presence was when her cheerful voice floated up the stairs, “Hey, babe. You ready? If we leave now we can grab a bite to eat before my plane takes off.”
Jensen threw himself off his friend. A scalded cat would have been hard pressed to move so quick. He fell – leaped – stumbled – to Jared’s closet, wrenched open the door and grabbed the first long shirt he saw – a hideous purple paisley number he’d always secretly loathed. “Put this on!” he ordered, turning back around and tossing the shirt in the same motion.
It landed across Jared’s thigh but he made no move to reach for it. He just continued to lay there, spread-eagle in the center of the bed, looking dazed.
Jared’s chest was flushed deep crimson with dark red bruises already forming...everywhere. His hair was a wet tangle around his cheeks and his eyes had a slumberous, sated glaze to them. “Jesus,” Jensen breathed, feeling a pang. Jared looked like he’d been well and truly fucked. He was gorgeous.
Genevieve’s heels click-clacked up the wooden stairs and Jensen shook it off. Whatever ‘it’ was. Jared’s wife – his freakin’ wife! – was about to walk in and find her man looking like a very well-used fuck toy. And ohjesuschrist, what the hell had Jensen just done?
“C’mon, Jay!” He leaned down to throw Jared’s arm across his shoulder and haul him to his feet. “Get in the bathroom!”
A sense of urgency must have finally hit, because Jared grabbed the shirt and attempted to stand on his own. His movements were slow and uncoordinated.
Jensen practically threw him at the bathroom door. “Go!”
The ensuite’s door had just clicked closed when the bedroom door swung open. Jensen was facing away, frantically snapping his shirt together and just hoping – praying – that he’d gotten the buttons done up properly.
“Oh, hey, Jen,” Genevieve said. “How’s it going?”
He took a deep, bracing breath and turned around. “Good, thanks,” he replied, his voice all studied casualness. “How you doin’?”
It was an Oscar worthy performance.
Apparently not good enough, though, since Genevieve cocked her head and frowned as soon as she got a glimpse of his face. Jensen flushed like a guilty school kid. Damn it! He swabbed his fingers across his mouth and belatedly realized that his lips were raw and the whole lower half of his face hurt. When he realized it was razor burn he was feeling Jensen choked, but quickly turned the odd nose into a cough. “Well, ahh...” he said, averting his eyes. “I guess I should...umm.”
So much for that Oscar.
“What’s up, Jen?” Genevieve asked, crossing the room to lay a small hand on his forearm. “You sick?”
His mouth opened but no words came out. And God was still withholding that natural disaster, the bastard.
“You look...” Her fingers rose to delicately touch Jensen’s chapped lips and a sudden ‘O’ rounded her mouth.
Panic fluttered in Jensen’s stomach. “Genny, I—” he started, with no actual idea of what else to say.
A sunny grin broke over her face. “You were rehearsing that scene, weren’t you?” She chuckled. “So how’d it go? You guys gonna have all your fangirls creaming in their jeans, or what?”
Yeah. Probably. Her husband had certainly creamed his jeans. Jensen winced at the mean-spirited thought, even as his shoulders sagged with relief. Genevieve knew about the scene. Of course she did. He didn’t have to explain a darn thing. Thank you God – and by the way, he hadn’t really meant that ‘bastard’ thing.
“Well, I only puked in my mouth a tiny bit,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I guess it went okay.”
“I can’t wait to see it! Where’s the...” Her gaze danced around the room. “Aha!” she crowed, practically skipping over to the digital recorder sitting on the highboy, its little red light blinking like a tiny, cheerful beacon of doom.
Crap! How could he have forgotten about the damn camera? They recorded all their rehearsals.
Jensen did that whole stupid leap, stumble, fall crap again trying to get to it before she did. He snatched the recorder out of Genevieve’s hands just as she hit the rewind button.
“Oh, come on!” Genevieve pouted up at him, her feminine charm in full play. “You guys always let me watch.”
A burble of semi-hysterical laughter tried to make it past Jensen’s lips. He tamped it down hard. “Sorry, not this time, hon,” he said. “You’re gonna have to wait to see us liplocked – just like the rest of the fangirls.”
She huffed out an annoyed breath, ruffling the artful waves across her forehead. Jensen reached out and mussed them up even more, just like always. See, there. Everything quid-pro-quo. He could do normal.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Whatever. Where’s Jay? We need to get a move on.”
Jensen jerked his chin toward the bathroom. “Said something about a chilli dog gone wrong,” he whispered, mock horrified.
Genevieve wrinkled her nose. “Great. And I have to be locked in the car with him.” She click-clacked over to the door. “You okay in there, babe.”
“Uhhh...yeah?” came Jared’s soft, oddly pitched voice.
Genevieve threw Jensen a puzzled look. “K,” she said, sounding less than convinced. “I’ll be waiting in the car. Could you bring my suitcase down?”
“Sure thing.”
She patted Jensen’s cheek as she breezed past him. “Don’t worry, loverboy. You’ll have him back in your arms again in a few hours.”
Jensen tried – but imagined his smile still came off pretty weak. “Super.”
As soon as she’d left, Jared cracked open the bathroom door. The purple shirt was done all the way up to his throat and his legs were bare. “Could, uhh... Could you grab me another pair of jeans?” His cheeks flamed red. “Second drawer on the left.”
Jensen did, feeling Jared’s eyes on him the whole time. “I’ll Email you the video,” he said, passing over the pants as he stared fixedly at a big lilac paisley on Jared’s left shoulder. “Take your time with Genny. I think I’m done for the night.”
“Jen...” Jared reached through the opening to cup Jensen’s chin and tilt his face up. His expression was anguished, his eyes moist.
The long, golden-pink rays of the setting sun bathed Jared’s skin, lending him splendour he didn’t even need. Jensen was horrified to find his own eyes filling. Lord almighty, when had he turned into such a pussy? “Don’t!” He slapped Jared’s hand away with more force than he meant to. “Don’t, Jay. I can’t—” He scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “I’m done,” he said again, turning away. “I’m just...done.”
***
The next day, Jensen stumbled into the make-up trailer at 5:55 a.m. He’d gotten less than three hours sleep. No need to get into why.
No. You know what? Screw it. Let’s get into it.
First, he’d puttered around his apartment for a few hours, waiting for Jared to show up and want to talk. Because Jared always wanted to talk about everything. Jensen had planned to send him right home. Of course he had. But the point was moot, since Jared hadn’t shown up.
Jensen had thought about calling, but he couldn’t make himself dial the number. He’d thought about heading back over there – even had his keys in hand – but in the end, couldn’t make himself do that either.
I mean, Jesus. What was there to say? Did they make a Hallmark card for crap like this:
Hey, buddy, you know how I couldn’t stop kissing you and then brought you off in your pants causing us to almost get caught by your wife...
Really sorry about that!
Fuck.
After realizing that he was going to be spending the night alone after all, Jensen spent the next two hours drinking beer and diligently not watching their rehearsal video. The two hours after that were dedicated to watching the damned video and jerking off like a thirteen year old with his first Victoria’s Secret catalogue.
The kissing scene was hot. No doubt about it. Jared all tough and sexy, and then just horny and sexy. Hot. The fans would eat it up.
But it was the part after they’d fallen on the bed that Jensen kept rewinding. Before, that is, he smartened up and simply looped the clip.
The angle of the camera had only allowed the bottom half of their legs to be filmed, which was too bad, because he’d have loved to see Jared’s face as he came. It couldn’t possibly be as spectacular as Jensen remembered, right?
But it was the sounds that really got him. The sounds coming out of Jared’s mouth were so desperate, so damned erotic, that even though Jensen shouldn’t have been able to – there was no way even an ounce of fluid remained in his body – he got hard every time the loop played. Every. Fucking. Time.
At midnight, he’d Emailed the video to Jared – after spending another hour typing and deleting messages. Typing and deleting. Typing and deleting...
Finally Jensen had just sent it – no message – no subject. Suck on that, Padelicki.
At 2:00 a.m. he’d fallen into bed, drunk and miserable.
At 4:45 a.m. he’d fallen back out of bed, slapping feebly at his alarm clock on his way down to the floor – less drunk – still miserable.
So now, here he was...
Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.
***
Jared sat in the far chair having his hair played with, so Jensen slumped into the chair closest to the door – leaving two seats between them.
“Shirt off,” said, Sarah, the make-up girl, her back to him as she fiddled with a tray of blush and bronzers.
Jensen gave her red ponytail a friendly tug before he complied. When she didn’t start to work on him right away, he leaned his head against the neck rest and shut his eyes, more than ready to grab a catnap.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Sarah cursed. “Not you, too!”
“Wha—” Jensen looked around to see who she was bitching at. Turns out it was him.
“You know,” she growled, smacking her hand down on a stick of green cover-up. Her armful of silver bracelets jangled angrily. “You two could tell your girlfriends to tone it down until filming is over. God, Jen, you knew you were shooting topless today!”
What the hell was she yelling about? Jensen looked up, caught his own blood-shot eyes in the mirror, and belatedly realized why Sarah was so pissed off. He had four – no, five – hickeys, the largest just under his jaw.
“At least Dani showed a modicum of restraint,” Sarah grumbled, bending to smear green gunk on the offensive marks. “Jared, here...” She threw out her arm and pointed, her bracelets jangling away. “...looks like he was mauled by a fucking tiger.” She scowled. “I mean honestly, what was Genevieve thinking?”
Jared had been reading a magazine, ignoring them both, but at Sarah’s outburst he glanced up. Since Jensen had already been looking at him, trying to see the bruises under his half-buttoned shirt, their gazes met. Locked.
“Sorry,” Jensen mouthed, meaning the marks.
Meaning everything.
Jared’s lips twitched but then he immediately broke eye contact and looked down at his magazine again.
Jensen scowled. What exactly had that flicker of a smile meant? Was he forgiven or not, damn it? Jared was usually an open book – his feelings right there on his sleeve for anyone to read. But right now Jensen had no idea what was going on in his friend’s head.
It was killing him.
***

By the time Jensen got out of make-up they were already setting up the lighting for Sam’s possession scene. Jensen’s eyes passed over the non-descript motel set without really seeing it. He was looking for Jared.
But his co-star didn’t show up until Phil called everyone to their places. Then, like a big bunny from a magician’s hat, he just appeared.
The tension between the two Js worked a charm for the difficult scene, really adding to the whole ‘apocalyptic’ feel. After only the twelfth take Phil called cut, sounding just as pleased as punch. Capturing an entire scene in less than half a day was unheard of. He had good reason to be pleased. “Really excellent work, you two,” he said, clapping them both on the shoulders. “Keep it up and we might actually get out of here before midnight.”
Jared gave the director a subdued version of his normally ebullient grin. “Thanks.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jensen snarled. “We still have the stupid kiss scene to shoot and some of us don’t seem to have their lines down yet. Or their fucking accents,” he snarked under his breath.
Jared’s nostrils flared. His jaw clenched.
Phil’s gaze snapped back and forth between them as he realized that all that wonderful tension hadn’t just been fine acting. “Well, if that’s true, then I suggest that some of you had better go over your lines some more. We’ve got about an hour until the warehouse is set up. Put it to good use.”
As soon as Phil walked away, Jared grabbed Jensen’s wrist and began hauling him towards the trailers.
“Hey!” Jensen attempted to pull away, or at least halt their forward momentum. Jared didn’t even slow down. “Hey!” Jensen yelled again, he felt like a Chihuahua must feel when fighting it’s leash. Pathetic and ineffective. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“What the—my—what the fuck is my—” Jared was so mad he couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out. He yanked Jensen between two trailers and slammed him into the shiny silver wall of the closest. “You didn’t want to talk about it yesterday,” he hissed, slapping his palms against the trailer on either side of Jensen’s head. “Just couldn’t!” he mimicked in a high, nasty voice that sounded nothing like Jensen’s own. “And now you want to air it in front of the whole crew.” His right hand curled into a fist and punched the aluminum right beside Jensen’s ear. “What the fuck is your problem, Jen?”
“Did you even watch the video,” Jensen asked. The words came out in a growl, even though his legs were shaking with a combination of adrenaline and...something else he didn’t care to examine. “The devil’s not from Texas, ya moron. And what the fuck was with that adlibbing? The rehearsal was totally fucked and you know it.”
“Yeah, I watched it. Many times.” Jared leaned in even closer, his hot breath washing Jensen’s lips. “And you know what, Jen? Maybe if you weren’t climbing up my body like a fucking spider monkey I’d have been able to remember the damn lines.”
Jensen’s lips opened on a retort, something to the effect of, Bullshit! You were blowing it long before I did that! But then the image of how he had actually climbed Jared’s body like some sort of monkey flashed full blown into his head and he barked a laugh instead.
Jared’s head snapped back as if Jensen had slapped him. “What’s funny?!”
“You. Me.” Jensen waved a hand around. “This.” He gently pushed at Jared’s chest, encouraging him to back off. Jared did, but not far enough. “I was just thinking,” Jensen said, “about how I fell out of a tree when I was eight. Broke my arm in two places. When my mother asked me why I’d climbed the tree in the first place I told her, ‘Mom, if God didn’t want us climbing trees he wouldn’ta made ‘em so darn tall.”
His tongue poked into his cheek as Jared struggled not to smile. “Sooo,” he finally said, a dimple appearing in spite of his best efforts. “You’re saying I’m a tree you couldn’t resist climbing because you have the impulse control of an eight year old?”
Another snigger escaped Jensen’s mouth. “Something like that I guess. Yeah. Sorry. Sorry about tiger-mauling ya, too – while I’m at it.”
Jared snorted, but then immediately sighed. “Fuck, Jen.”
Jensen pretended that those particular words had no effect on him. Hell, if he pretended hard enough maybe it would be true.
“Look, I don’t know what happened yesterday,” Jared said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and Jensen saw that his knuckles were bloody.   “I really don’t. But I’m ready to pretend it was a just a random, unexplainable thing.” His hand moved as if to touch Jensen’s cheek, but at the last second dropped away. “You’re one of my best friends, Jensen. I don’t want to lose you over this.”
Jensen tried on a ‘best friend’ smile. It fit okay. “You won’t,” he assured. Then he cleared his throat and said, “But I don’t really want to rehearse the scene again, okay? Bad enough we’re gonna have to do it a hundred more times today.” He looked down and kicked at the asphalt. “Honestly, Jay? I think I’ve had all the tree climbing I can handle for now.”
When Jensen looked back up Jared was giving him a small, sad smile. “That’s cool. I do know the lines, you know. And I promise I won’t adlib. I guess I just got a little...carried away yesterday.” Jared blushed as he said it, which was kind of adorable.
Jensen pushed away from the trailer and they both started walking towards their respective home-away-from-homes. He didn’t know what Jared’s plans were for the next hour, but Jensen planned to spend the entire time jerking off, because there was no way he was going to spring a hard-on in front of the entire Supernatural crew. No fucking way.
There was an uncomfortable pause when they reached Jensen’s trailer. Neither seemed to know what to say.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you, umm, soon.” Jared said, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Jensen lifted one shoulder. “Yep. Guess so.”
The screen door had barely swung shut before Jensen’s hands were at the zip of his jeans. Snippets of Jared ran through his head as he started to stroke himself.
“Yeah, I watched it. Many times.”
“I just got a little...carried away.”
“Fuck, Jen.”
...Fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen...
Jensen groaned.
“But I’m ready to pretend it was a just a random, unexplainable thing. I don’t want to lose you over this.”
Wait a minute. Jensen’s eyes snapped open as he replayed that last bit. What could Jared have meant by that? Didn’t he think it was a random and unexplainable thing?
...Fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen...
Oh, screw it. It probably hadn’t meant anything. Jensen let his eyes fall shut again and pumped his cock harder.
...Fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen, fuck, Jen...
Biting his knuckle to keep Jared’s name locked inside, Jensen came in long, spattering white ribbons all over his trailer’s cheap beige carpet.
TBC
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