Snoops

Categories:  CW RPS

Snoops was a Smutbox challenge piece I did with Quietdiscerning, who provided graphic evidence of the crime. I truly have no other explanation or excuse for its existence. It’s Jared/Jensen, but only R rated. *preens*

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“Mike, you’re so lame. I can’t believe you didn’t buy enough beer.” Jared leaned into the kitchen doorframe, which did an admirable job of holding him up. He could have sworn they had a fridge full of beer when they started, but now all it had to show for itself was a six-pack of Diet Coke (with fucking lime), a jar of grape jelly and a dead canister of parmesan cheese.

“If you weren’t such a fucking lush, Padalecki, there’d have been plenty,” Mike groused as he hefted himself off the couch and started looking for his wallet.

“Hey, it’s my birthday!!!” Jared reminded him, rubbing his back against the doorframe, scratching that place between his shoulder blades that even with his long arms, he couldn’t reach

“Or, you know, you could have brought a case or two with you,” Mike said, grabbing his keys and stuffing his wallet in his back pocket.

“Um, birthday,” Jared said. “Since when do I have to bring my own present?”

Mike looked at him. “Since you drank yours, mine, and ours, dickhead.”

Jensen jumped to his partner’s defense. Well, jump was kind of a strong word for it. More like he listed to one side on the couch and piped up, “Yeah, if you can’t get blind drunk on your birthday, when can you?”

Jared really, really appreciated the support, and gave Jensen a thumbs up. Jensen returned it with both hands. At least Jared thought it was both hands; he might just be seeing double. He really had had a jaw-dropping amount of beer.

“Besides, it’s supposed to be my party, too, remember?” Mike said, looking from Jared to Jensen and back.

Jensen lifted his head for a second and squinted at Mike, then dropped his head back so it hung suspended over the arm of the couch. “We’ll do you next week. We’ll buy and everything. Oh, and hey, while you’re out, see if you can find any of those blue chip thingies.”

“God, you’re a pussy.” Jared heard Tom’s voice. Right, Tom. How’d he forget about Tom? The guy took up a lot of space. Oh, right, right, he’d been in the bathroom. For, like, ever. Looked like the blue chips didn’t agree with Tommy.

“What? I like them,” Jensen said, and Jared automatically said, “Yeah, me, too.”

Tom just shook his head. “Like that’s a surprise. Tweedledum and Tweedledee here like the same things. Shocker.”

Jared scowled at him. “Huh?”

Jensen rolled his head and looked at Jared. “I think he just messed with Texas.”

Jared rolled off the doorframe, ready to do battle, but Tom just laughed at him and said, “Do you want more beer or not?”

“Is that a trick question?” Jared asked. He found his way to the couch and plopped down beside Jensen, pushing Jensen’s feet until he had room to sit down.

“Okay, then,” Tom said. He walked over to Mike and plucked the keys from his hand. “You are <i>not</i> driving. You’re almost as bad as they are.”

Mike’s lips curled to a full pout, but he couldn’t quite pull it off, and then Tom laughed at him, too.

“Any other requests?” Tom asked, steering Mike toward the door.

“Get cans, the bottle opener’s not working,” Jared said, and wondered why all three of the others cracked up. “What? It keeps slipping. I think it’s broken.”

“Don’t mess with my shit,” Mike called over his shoulder as Tom pushed him outside. “You really think we should leave them here?” Jared heard him ask Tom.

“The alternative is taking them with us,” Tom said, and Jared heard Mike’s voice getting softer as they moved out of ear shot, saying, “Fine, fine, they can mess with my shit.”

Jared poked Jensen’s big toe and Jensen lifted his head and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “You heard the man. Let’s mess with his shit.”

Jensen put out one hand and Jared pulled him upright. Jensen looked around, nodded, and said, “Okay.”

Once standing, Jensen veered off to the right, in completely the opposite direction Jared had headed.

“Hey, Jen, where ya going?” Jared turned back and grinned, filled with absolute glee at the prospect of having the run of Mike’s place and even his permission, in a way, to go through it. That asshole had been playing practical jokes on the two of them since their show started, and on Jensen long before that. Even if they didn’t find anything useful for future ammunition, Jared still remembered how to short-sheet a bed

“I’m gonna mess with his stuff,” Jensen said in a voice that indicated he thought he was talking to a three-year old.

Jared stepped in front of Jensen and placed his hand over Jensen’s chest, effectively stopping his progress into the kitchen. “Dude, use your imagination. What the fuck fun is the kitchen? Come on,” he said softly, conspiratorially, and pulled Jensen down the hallway.

They were like kids in a candy store. It didn’t occur to Jared that Mike might not like having his clothes strewn on the floor and across the bed, for they were men on a mission. So far they’d confiscated a picture of Tom behind the scenes (must have been when he directed that episode) tucked under Mike’s <i>boxer shorts</i>. That had been good for a full five minutes of drunken giggling and rude comments about Mike’s secret obsession with his co-star.

Jensen had progressed to the closet and was reaching toward the back for a small box that looked like it might hold some interest. Jared sat heavily on the bed, his long arms dangling loosely between his knees.

“Whatcha got?” Jared was bouncing lightly on the mattress, observing the current state of Mike’s bedroom. “Whoa. He’s gonna kill us,” he said, just realizing what a mess they’d made.

Jensen ignored the obvious and addressed the question. “Dunno,” he grunted, then still sitting on the floor, he leaned back against the wall and held up a tin box with a hunky Superman character gracing the lid.

Jared hooted and slid off the bed to join Jensen on the floor. “Holy shit! No way!” He snatched the box out of Jensen’s hands and placed it on the floor, trying to work the latches with drink-numbed fingers.

“Whaddya think’s in there?” he snickered and kept fiddling. “It’s got to be something good for him to hide it like that.”

“We’ll never know if you don’t hand it over.” Jensen pushed Jared’s hands out of the way and flipped the metal up quickly on each side.

Jared just stared down at the now-open lunchbox and blinked. Jensen was leaning heavily on Jared’s shoulder, laughing so hard he was making funny wheezing noises out his nose.

Finally Jared found his voice. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, man, you didn’t hear about this?” Jensen was having trouble breathing, talking and laughing, but he managed to stop long enough to flip the box over, dumping its contents on the carpet.

“A bunch of loony fans gave this to Mike at that hockey game this spring. I can’t believe he <i>kept</i> it.” Jensen’s snickers threatened to overtake him again, so Jared shoved him back over against the wall and gingerly picked up the first thing that caught his eye.

“What. In God’s name. Is <i>this</i??” Jared held up the rubber appliance for Jen’s inspection, his head tilted to the side curiously.

Jensen took the thing and held up close to his face, peering back at Jared through the gaping maw of pink rubber. “What? You never saw a pocket pussy?”

Jared’s face threatened to turn the color of the … implement and he hastily began digging through the rest of the selection.

Several containers of lotion and oil were shoved aside as inconsequential, although Jensen picked up one of the tubes and read out loud, “Everyone Loves a Happy Penis.”

Jared stopped rummaging and looked at Jensen. “You ever use any of this kind of shit?”

“Sure, all the time! Don’t you want a happy penis?” Jensen seemed to think that was extremely witty judging by the snickering.

“No, dude, I’m serious! Who uses this crap?” The next thing Jared pulled out was a small tin of candies labeled “Tit Tarts.” Without a thought he popped the lid up and tossed a few of the hard candies into his mouth, then immediately spat them back out.

“Whoa. Not like any tits I ever tasted,” he said, but Jensen wasn’t listening. Jared saw that he was absorbed with a small pack of cards which he was shuffling through and squinting at. Jared leaned over and read, “Kama Sutra Cards.”

Jared plucked one of the cards out of the deck and held it up to the light. He cocked his head one way then the other until his bangs fell loosely across his eyes. “There is no fucking way…” he mumbled, threw down the card and picked up another.

But, before he could figure out exactly how the woman got her legs in just that position, Jensen was shoving a different one under his nose. “You ever done that?”

Jared inspected the picture, then felt a warm swath of blood start creeping up his neck and the effects of an afternoon of swilling down multiple bottles of beer disappeared in a rush that felt like half embarrassment and half arousal. Okay, he’d have to remember that next time he needed to get sober quick. Just look at…

“You have!” Jensen crowed. He pulled the card back and inspected it himself. It was quite a graphic portrayal of a man and woman practicing anal sex and Jensen seemed to forget it was Mike they were supposed to be teasing.

“You fucked a girl up the ass!” Jensen acted like he was totally shocked that Jared might have taken part in such lewd and lascivious behavior, and for some reason Jared was tired of being the younger one, the “little brother”, as if that somehow translated to less experienced

“Nope. I fucked a guy up the ass.” .

The card seemed to float gently and slowly down to the floor as it slipped from Jensen’s fingers. Ok, he couldn’t have planned that better if he’d…um, planned it. Jared shifted to lean his back against the bed and continued his inspection of the box’s contents, letting his little bombshell sink in.

He finally came to the tightly coiled little whip – cheap, stiff leather. Jared unfurled it and slapped it against the carpet, making a deep thudding noise and saw Jensen jump out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but grin. His co-star was obviously still processing. With barely a flick of his wrist, he sent the whip in Jensen’s direction and it landed across his thigh.

“Gotcha!”

“You asshole. You so have not been with a guy.” Jensen was watching Jared now like he was waiting for the slip-up. Did Jared see triumph or disappointment on Jensen’s face?

“Hey, we weren’t all cheerleaders and FCA,” Jared said. “We know how to have fun in South Texas.” Jared let his drawl unroll over the last two words.

Jensen was so easy when he was drunk. Predictably, he got his macho on, walking right into Jared’s little trap.

“Doesn’t mean I was a goody two-shoes.”

Goody two-shoes? Who says that anymore? Jared was about to bust a gut holding in the laughter.

“Oh, and I guess you’ve played with some of this shit too, Mr. Know-It-All.”

Oh, Christ. What were they, twelve?

Jensen scoffed, or it would have been a scoff if he hadn’t sprayed spit on Jared’s shoulder.

“Get real! I don’t need any of this crap to have a good time – or assistance.” Jensen did his best to look insulted. Then Jared noticed Jensen’s very sexy lips move into a sly smile as his hand began moving very slowly up his thigh. “Besides, who wants plastic…?”

Jared had no problem completing that sentence and now it was his turn to go all dry mouthed, as he swallowed, trying to moisten his lips while following the progress of Jensen’s hand.

If Jensen wanted to play chicken, Jared was his boy.

“I got your sex toy right here, darlin’,” Jared said, cupping the growing bulge at his crotch, leering at Jensen, who licked those sinfully sexy lips of his and leaned toward him.

Jared pulled back. He reached in the box again, pulling out what he assumed was a cock ring, the thin leather straps dyed a ridiculous shade of purple and adorned with tiny silver studs. It looked like a harness for a Chihuahua. He twirled it on his forefinger in front of Jensen’s face, inspected it as if trying to decide if it was worth his consideration, then tossed it over his shoulder where it landed on the bed with a soft thump.

“You’re right. Who needs toys when the real thing is so much better?” Jared said.

This is where he’d either get shoved over and Jensen would laugh his ass off at him – or he’d follow Jared’s cues. They could always blame the whole scene on being drunk.

But it didn’t look like that was going to be necessary, because three seconds later Jensen was straddling Jared’s lap and his tongue was feeling up every inch of Jared’s mouth.

Happy birthday to me.

Jared couldn’t imagine any battery-operated appliance in the world being better than the grinding hardness of Jensen’s dick against his belly, so he swept the contents of the box across the floor with his leg and did a quick maneuver intended to land Jensen flat on his back so Jared could have better access to buttons, zippers and most importantly, skin.

Jared was about to dip his head down once more for another tonsil-swabbing kiss when Jensen twisted around and shoved a tube of Slick at him.

Jared had to move his face back a few inches to read the label. When the words registered, a shiver crawled down his spine and made his toes curl, and his dick protested the restriction of his jeans mightily.

“Well, hell. I think you just found something we could use after all,” he said.

Jensen squirmed beneath him and pulled Jared’s head down until their lips just brushed together. “We can thank Mike later.”

“The hell we can,” Jared said.

Naked and moaning his name was how Jared decided he liked Jensen best. Although naked with his legs wrapped around Jared’s hips and speechless with lust ran a close second. But in retrospect, Jensen naked with his legs resting on Jared’s shoulders while Jared fucked him senseless probably won out in the end.

Twenty minutes later Jared was putting together enough brain cells to realize that Mike and Tommy should have been back by now and if they found him and Jensen on the floor, stuck together with drying come, there’d be more to explain than Mike’s trashed bedroom.

Nudging at Jensen who appeared to be groping for his underwear, Jared hissed, “C’mon man, we gotta get up.” But he couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of his voice, even in his urgency to get them decent before discovery.

Jensen seemed to notice the state of the room for the first time since their drunken escapade began and his eyes got big just before he started laughing his ass off.

“I can’t wait to see Mike’s face.”

“You’re insane,” was Jared response as he finished buckling his belt and pulled Jen up by his arm. “Let’s go see what’s going on.”

Looking disheveled but fully clothed, both men went back to the living room, where there was no sign of either Mike or Tommy. Or beer in the fridge, which was the really sucky part.

Jensen was just coming out of the bathroom when Jared walked past the front window and happened to glance out… at Mike’s truck parked at the curb. Huh? What the hell were they still doing in the truck?

“Hey, Jen, come see.” Jared parted the blinds and held them open for Jensen to peak out.

“Dude! They’re kissing!” Jensen hooted with laughter then danced around the living room in his sock feet. “We are going to give them so much shit!”

Jared watched Jensen with a combination of amusement and bewilderment. “Um, Jensen? I hate to break it to you, but we just did a helluva lot more than necking in a car.”

This didn’t seem to deter Jensen’s joy at all. Instead he ran back to the bedroom and came out in seconds with the little purple cockring held up in triumph.

“Just because we don’t need no stinkin’ sex toys doesn’t mean they don’t,” Jensen said.

“Wait,” Jared said.

Jensen turned to him from the door and lifted his eyebrows.

“Before you do anything, get the beer,” Jared said.

“I like the way you think,” Jensen said, and snuck out the back instead.

Jared watched him go and said, “I like the way you fuck.”

Maybe eventually, he’d even say it to Jensen’s face.

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