Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
So very not mine
"When love is not madness it is not love." ― Pedro Calderón de la Barca
It had been years. Days and months of sweating with, working with, talking, pretending, fighting and …
Jared thought about him. Dreamt about him. Played with and lived near him. They showed up at the same places and they laughed. Hugged and touched and took pictures and it was never a thing again.
It really wasn’t.
Another weekend, another convention. Another hotel, another random room. Another call to Gen, a chat with the kids and Jared sat on the edge of his bed at two. Jeans, t-shirt, bare feet, twitchy fingers.
He called the next room, the phone to his ear in a tight, damp palm.
“Come ‘on over, Jared.”
This embrace was not for cameras or fans. The kiss was real, the taste of salt and skin, the quick pull of shirts overhead, the tangle of tongues again as their chests rubbed together. The press of denim on denim, Jensen’s body temperature was higher than he remembered. Warm breath on Jared’s jaw, his lips wet. These kisses were nothing like what he was used to anymore - Jared finally opened his eyes and had to ask,
“You still want this?”
“As much as you do.”