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Jared leans in closer to the mirror, the edge of the counter digging into his towel-covered thighs as he tips his head back. Gaze downward, he watches the path of the razor against his skin, blade cutting clean through the white froth, leaving a trail of smooth skin behind.
One stroke. Two. Rinse-tap-tap. Head back. Repeat.
He runs his palm over his jaw and down his neck when he's done, rinsing off some of the leftover cream, warm water dripping down his skin. A flicker of movement in the mirror catches his eye and he sees Jensen sneaking up behind him wearing only his boxer shorts, hair still disheveled from sleep, but otherwise appearing a little more alert than normal for this time of day.
"Hey, what're you doin' up?" Jared says, lips twitching into a smile. "Was gonna let you sleep awhile yet; don't think Gary's expecting us for another couple hours or so."
Jensen answers only with a quiet grunt, slowly fits himself right up against Jared's back, skin to skin, head ducked to brush his lips over Jared's bare shoulder.
With a warm sound, Jared lets himself sink back into the loose embrace, Jensen's broad hands falling to Jared's terrycloth-covered hips.
Jensen's quiet for a long moment, doing nothing more than nosing the skin along Jared's neck and then higher up to his nape. "Smell good," he murmurs finally, lips pursing briefly before his teeth scrape lightly.
The effect is immediate, heat shuddering down Jared's spine, connecting the point between Jensen's mouth and his own dick, heavy between his legs. Setting the razor aside, Jared keeps his eyes locked on Jensen through the mirror, watches as Jensen's hands slide from Jared's hips to his waist and around, calluses rough against the soft skin just below Jared's navel, idly petting the trail of hair leading south.
"Jensen?" Jared breathes after a moment, tone quiet, almost hesitant.
This thing between them still feels new. Raw and breakable and completely forbidden. There is no part of it that comes easy, no part that isn't still terrifying for a million different reasons, but with Jensen's hands and breath on his skin, Jared finds it so easy to forget every single one. So easy to just surrender and take what he wants, everything Jensen will give him.
Jensen glances up then, their eyes meeting in the mirror, hazel on green and Jared's breath catches as Jensen hooks his fingers in Jared's towel, loosens it with one easy tug. It falls to the floor, a mess of damp fabric at Jared's feet and Jared shivers all over again as Jensen's fingers draw slow, maddening circles along his hip.
"Shoulda woken me," Jensen whispers, lips brushing the skin below Jared's ear.
With a soft breath, Jared nods his agreement and then arches back, his ass against the hard line of Jensen's dick, separated only by the cotton of Jensen's boxers. He gets a groan in response, heavy and dark and Jensen's fingers briefly halt their idle designs.
"Thought you might be pissed," he confesses even as he reaches back with one hand, grabbing the back of Jensen's left thigh and pulling him in closer. "Know how you are about gettin' your beauty sleep."
Jensen growls softly and grinds against Jared's ass, his hand sliding lower, but still not quite low enough. Jared's dick twitches at the teasing touch, already more than half hard and craving attention as Jensen murmurs, "Some things are better than sleep."
Jared grins. "That right?" he says, the words dragged out into a lazy drawl. "What kinda things?"
In reply, Jensen's other hand smooths up Jared's chest, fingers stretched wide as Jensen rolls his hips forward again, slow with intent.
He's not used to this. Every time they've done anything it's been handjobs or blowjobs or Jensen spreading wide for him, begging silently for Jared to get inside him. It's never been the other way around. Jensen's never asked for it and Jared's... Jared doesn't know how to ask for it. Doesn't know if he even wants to.
But with Jensen rocking against him, the idea isn't one he can ignore.
He pictures it then: Jensen bending him over right here, right at the bathroom sink. One firm hand on his lower back would do it, Jared would bend and spread his legs, curl his fingers over the lip of the counter, and Jensen could take him right here, hard, thick dick fucking into him, stretching and filling. The image is startling, shockingly arousing and Jared gasps out a moan as Jensen's fingers find his nipple.
"Jensen--"
"Fuck, look at you," Jensen interrupts, voice a low purr as he twists the tiny bud. Jared barely manages to hold back a whimper, eyes wide as he stares at Jensen in the mirror. His skin's already flushed a faint red, blossoming up from his chest to where Jensen's breath tickles his neck. "So fuckin'-- it's obscene, Jay. The things I wanna do to you..."
With a quiet whine, Jared grabs hold of the hand Jensen has on his hip and tries shoving it down where he wants it. His eyes are blown wide, cheeks pink and he darts his tongue over his bottom lip and whispers, "Fuck, Jensen, please..."
But Jensen only grins, twists his wrist from Jared's grasp and nips at Jared's shoulder. "Not yet."
Jared can't help another whine, muscles drawing tight and nostrils flaring as he sucks in a breath. Jensen's a wall of pure strength behind him, but his hold isn't overbearing; Jared knows he could take him fairly easily. And there's a part of him, deep and primal, that wants to. It's his instinct to be the aggressor, to push and fight and take. To fight and never back down. But there's another part that wants to drop to his knees and lay himself bare, give Jensen everything he asks and more.
It's a struggle he's not used to and he heaves a ragged, frustrated breath, his lips curling into a near snarl. "God, just do something," he groans and Jensen's grin widens, hand still spread wide across Jared's chest, holding him in place.
"Plan to," he murmurs as his other hand slides back, fingers light against the meat of Jared's ass and then sliding down, sliding down and between.
Jared's eyes fall shut at the gentle, dry press and his entire body goes tense. "Oh God."
"You think about this, Jay?" Jensen asks, voice barely above a whisper as a single finger presses in further, nudging at the ring of muscle. "Huh? Ever think about havin' me inside you?"
Eyes clenched tight, Jared can only huff out a stilted breath and whimper at the insistent press of Jensen's finger against him, rubbing slow and gentle. It's terrifying how bad he wants it, sudden and overwhelming. He can't say he's never thought about it, but this is different. This isn't just idle fantasy anymore, not just something his mind trips over while jerking off. This is Jensen's fingers nearly in his ass, intent loud and undeniable and he wants. Fuck, does he want. Even if it feels like he's about to take a flying, fatal leap off a cliff he's been edging along for months.
But then Jensen lets out a breath, body shuddering as his head drops to Jared's shoulder. "God, Jared," he says, a pained and aching plea that cuts straight to Jared's core. Seals the deal.
"Jensen."
And he means to say more, to say yes and please and Fuck, I want it, I want you, God, fuck me, but he can't. Jensen's eyes are on his again in the mirror, wide and blown dark, looking exactly how Jared feels: ripped open and stripped down, scared out of his mind.
It's too much, too intense, and Jared has to look away, has to turn his head with a sharp, needy sound, lips to Jensen's jaw, his cheek and finally his mouth, answering the only way he knows how.
end.