The first guy Jared had ever picked up had been a tall Scandinavian named Leo. They'd tripped over each other in a bar, mutually agreed on the hotness of the other, and within five minutes realized that their senses of humor pretty much ran on a parallel. It had been a one night thing, neither wanting anything more than a good fuck (or first fuck, in Jared's case) and good company.

Leo had been a good teacher, finding Jared's ignorance in the matters of all things gay rather endearing. Jared had been aiming for sexy, but if cute got him a How to Fuck Ass for Dummies class, then yeah, it was nothing his ego couldn't handle.

Lesson number two as Leo had said, was lube. (Lesson number one being condom, condom, condom) Lube was the key. You could never use too much. Ever. At the time, Jared had agreed with him, but grapeseed oil wasn't quite as Jared friendly as AstroGlide, and things were never as easy as they looked in porn.

Jensen wasn't helping.

Nothing surprising there. The bastard was difficult enough to hang on to when his thighs weren't covered in oil. "I swear, you are enjoying this for all the wrong reasons." Jared grumbled, hands smearing slick oil across his wallet as he fished around for the condom his brother had always insisted he keep there. It really wasn't fair. Jensen had no right to look so damn smug with cookie dough in his hair, his legs splayed apart like some virgin sacrifice, and only his socks and sweater to protect his modesty.

On that note, Jared was pretty sure that oil, semen and chocolate were high on the list of things that never washed out of cashmere. Meh, maybe if he ruined all Jensen's clothes he'd have to walk around naked…

Then again, kitchen sex was supposed to be messy. That was half the fun.

Finally, after several minutes of his fingers slipping on the evil wrapper of doom, Jensen took pity on him. He even went so far as to roll the condom over Jared's dick.

Jared was officially in love with Jensen's hands.

So maybe this wasn't the first time Jared had envisioned for them, but it sure beat the hell out of drunken stick figure sex.

Satisfied, Jensen grinned. He nipped Jared's lip with his teeth, and ran a teasing finger along the underside of his dick.

Mean, utterly mean. Jared retaliated by pressing a slippery finger into Jensen's ass.

Ha, not so smug now, was he!

Jensen groaned wordlessly, arching against Jared's hand, his fingers curling against the hard floor. For Jared, sex had always been about sensations. Touch, taste, sound. He had a habit of talking. Whether the words he said were whispers of devotion or an exercise in crude compliments, it didn't matter, he just needed to say them. With Jensen he could only press his lips to skin and whisper. He had no hope of Jensen hearing them, but not to say them seemed so much worse somehow.

Jensen's head banged back on the floor once before Jared wormed a hand under his skull. That brain was screwy enough without adding a sex-induced concussion to the mix. Leaning forwards, Jared used his other hand to push Jensen's sweater up, baring more skin for him to explore.

Jared did a pretty good job of keeping a hold of his mental facilities, at least until he pushed past the tight ring of his ass. His fingers drew bruises as they struggled to anchor themselves against one of Jensen's thighs, and after that, Jared's brain took a bit of a vacation.

He was having sex with Jensen. He was making love to Jensen. He was balls deep in Jensen's ass.

If he'd had the time, he'd have spared a few more minutes on just computing those basic facts. Jensen's fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulder, and he got the message pretty quickly.

The floor was slippery with spilt oil, and after a few languid thrusts of his hips Jared changed strategy. Hooking Jensen's knees over his shoulders, he used the hand that wasn't playing pillow to pull Jensen down for every slow thrust. Jared's own weight drove him deeper and Jensen clung to his hold on Jared's hair as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Jared kissed him until his lips were the same dusky pink as the rose he'd been gifted with.

Their skin tasted of caramel and chocolate, and whatever else Jensen liked to use when cooking, and when Jensen came, the name on his lips was Jared's.

*****

When Jared awoke, it was to the smell of fresh cotton sheets and a pillow shoved under his arm where Jensen was supposed to be. As squishy as the pillow was, it failed to prove a worthy substitute for the real thing, and still operating on Sleep-zombie mode; Jared rolled out of bed and went hunting.

He found Jensen in the shower and that sight of him naked under a cascade of water more than made up for the solitary wake up.

Neither of them had managed to find clothes after restoring the kitchen to some form of cleanliness and stumbling up the stairs to bed. Jensen's natural need for warmth had been tempered by Jared's status as a human radiator, and he had seemed happy enough to let Jared be his thermal blanket for the night.

It meant that Jared could just push open the curved shower door and step right in. Jensen had his back to him, eyes closed with his head tipped back and the heavy spray warm on his face. Jared stepped close, pressed a light kiss to the side of his neck, and wound an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He had expected to make Jensen jump, and been ready to catch him. Instead, Jensen just took a step back, relaxing in Jared's embrace. The fall of water and the feel of a naked wet ass flush against his dick woke Jared up better than a whole pot of coffee.

Pressing kisses along Jensen's jaw, Jared loosened his hold enough to bring them face to face, lips together and tongues entwining in a perfect lazy morning kiss.

He'd though kissing Jensen was the best feeling in the world. Instead, it had been trumped by the warm, innocuous comfort of being able to wrap his arms around Jensen's waist and simply hold him.

Jensen's long, pianist's fingers carefully carded through Jared's hair, untangling knots where he found them as they kissed languidly. Jared's hands moved lower, tracing across the curve of spine and ribs, and Jensen's lips went slack against his.

The fingers that had been so gentle suddenly clasped tight, and Jared stumbled against the unexpected weight as Jensen sagged against him.

"Jen?" Jared whispered, trying to hoist Jensen higher in his arms only to be thwarted by the shower slick skin that had enchanted him only seconds ago. Jensen couldn't hear him, couldn't see him. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, his chest heaving as he sucked in a lungful of air.

He started to shake, and Jared's brain kicked into action.

"Oh fuck." He muttered, trying to help Jensen stay upright as he struggled with the shower controls. "SAM!" Of course Sam was on the other side of the damn building…

Fuckfuckfuck! Calm. Level headed. Calm.

Jensen whimpered miserably against his arm. Aw Christ.

Caught in a panic, he nearly fell flat on his ass when Jensen reached out blindly for the side of the shower.

Then he saw what Jensen was looking for.

The long white cord hung almost to the basin of the shower, and Jared almost ripped it from the ceiling in his attempt to turn on the panic alarm.

Okay, good. Cavalry on the way. Shower. They needed to be out of the shower.

He didn't care if moving Jensen during an attack was a bad idea. The damn thing had come out of nowhere and blindsided the both of them. For all Jared knew, Jensen faced another seventeen-hour epic, and there was no way in hell he was doing it cold and naked in a fucking shower.

"Okay, okay. I got ya." He said to himself, reaching down and lifting Jensen into his arms as carefully as he could. The shift in balance wrenched a sob from Jensen's throat, and something in Jared's chest burned at the desperate hold Jensen had around his neck.

Awkwardly, they left the shower. Each step Jared took was slow and cautious, the last thing Jensen needed was for Jared to slip and drop him.

The cold air of the bathroom was a slap to the face. Sam appeared in the doorway, clutching the small black bag that carried Jensen anti-nausea medication. She didn't look so much as surprised at their identical state of undress, but dragged a small mountain of fluffy towels out of the dresser and helped wrap Jensen in them.

"Go get dressed." Sam suggested, loading a syringe from a small silver colored vial.

"What are you giving him?" Jared asked, his fingers going numb from Jensen's death grip.

"Meclizine." Sam said calmly. "It's an antiemetic."

Jared watched her finish the prep and winced when the needle pierced Jensen's skin. "I thought he was on Dramamine." He said, biting his lip. Chemistry had never been his thing at school, and Jensen's little pharmacy often went over his head.

"New and improved formula." Sam said, shooting him a tight grin. "Now I'm more than happy to let you sit here with your tackle hanging out," she said dryly, "but this isn't going to finish before you find yourself some clothes."

She was right, of course. Jared dressed in record time, but it was close to forty minutes by the time the tension seeped from Jensen's body. As soon as the attack showed signs of ending, Sam nodded, and Jared wasted no time in pulling Jensen close and wrapping him safely in his arms.

A kiss to the tip of each ear, and then to Jensen's forehead, Jared held him tight, his heart beating rapidly under Jensen's cheek. "Don't leave." Jensen choked. "Please don't leave."

Jared bit his lip until it bled, dug his fingers into Jensen's skin, and let his tears lose themselves in the damp hair beneath his chin.

Read Part Seventeen Love truth, pardon error in the Louder Than Words 'Verse by SplashPink