Running Toward Nothing

Categories:  Sundownverse, CW RPS

Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language. Graphic m/m sex. Implied violence (past).
Word Count: 1, 874
AN: This is pretty much a PWP with a thin veneer of angst.

The shot whizzes by Jensen’s ear.

He automatically ducks and almost pulls Jared down with him. They’re both good runners, though. A couple dicey, leaping steps and they’re back up to a full sprint. Jensen’s chest aches. It’s like a shiv in his lungs just to breathe and even though he knows they haven’t, it feels like they’ve been running for hours.

Jared takes the lead, stretching out with his freakishly long arms to shove the branches and limbs aside for them. Even so, Jensen gets whipped sharply across his cheek, vision whiting out in pain. Doesn’t—can’t—stop going, though. He knows what they do to the ones they catch.

(…Oh, God…please don’t hurt me…

Please…don’t do this…

It’s not the flu. I don’t have the flu! It’s just allergies…)

“Wait!” Jared gasps. He slows and his fingers tangle in Jensen’s sleeve. Just momentarily, before he hunches, hands on his thighs. “I… Fuck. Gotta rest a sec, Jen.” Sharp, wet coughs rattle up from Jared’s chest and Jensen’s torn between his fear of the men still in pursuit behind them and his terror for Jared, bouncing uncertainly on his toes.

“Jay… We don’t have time for this…”

“I can’t.” Jared shakes his head, spits a stream of red and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jensen copies the headshake, but for different reasons, all his words turning brittle and breaking off in his throat.

“You have to go, baby,” Jared insists, looking up at Jensen through the tangle of his hair. “I don’t want… Don’t you die for me, Jensen, please.” Still mute, Jensen shakes his head harder, steps closer. Jared plants his hand in the center of Jensen’s chest, halting him. “Please…” Jared pleads softly.



Jensen flinches, but it’s already too late. As Jensen recoils, Jared falls against his chest, heavy, clumsy, eyes wide and pain-filled, hands clutching.

Jensen catches him, screaming deep in his head even though nothing comes out. No, no, no, no…

Jared squeezes Jensen’s wrist. Hard. “Jensen. Run.”

“No.” It’s a croak. He’s amazed he can do that much, still shrieking on the inside. No, Jared, not you, please, God, no…

“You have to. Run, dammit. Run for your life.” Blood pours out of Jared’s mouth, thick, stinking of metal. It’s too bright. Way more than his allergies warrant. It pours over Jensen’s shirt, hot and weirdly smooth, soaking the cloth to his chest and all he can do is hold Jared to him, squeeze him tightly and beg him not to leave.

Please, Jared, please no…

He hears the men closing in, other shots zing through the underbrush, chip bark off the trees. He’s a target, he knows it, but he can’t make himself go.

Not without Jared.

One last gunshot and Jensen wrenches himself out of the dream with a whimper. The pillow is wet under his face, sticking to his cheek. His throat burns and he chokes on a sob trying to work its way up from his belly.

Fucking nightmare. He hasn’t had one in months. He’d thought they’d finally receded to the far reaches of his brain that don’t get accessed anymore, crammed down with as many memories of the good old days he can bear to live without and still be here. People and places he won’t allow himself to think about anymore.

Slowly he rolls over, shifting under the sheet in subtle increments so as not to pull it off Jared. Jared’s still asleep, lips slightly parted. Soft little snorts—not really snores—come from his open mouth. His hair is spread all over his pillow and his face and a dark wave flutters slightly from his warm breath.

Even knowing it was a dream—nightmare—the relief Jensen feels turns his organs to jelly, floods his eyes with new heat and wetness. Embarrassed, he snuffles it away, but he can’t stop his hand from reaching up to gently lift a curl and tuck it behind Jared’s ear, fingers trailing down to ride the slow steady beat of Jared’s pulse. He can’t stop himself from leaning in to press his mouth against the sweet flesh of Jared’s neck in that same spot.

He knows Jared needs his rest; hell, they both do. But Jared smells like sleep and peace and home. He smells alive, which translates to sexy as all hell as far as Jensen’s dick is concerned. He inhales deeply and licks along the length of Jared’s neck, down to the crease under his arm before Jared starts to stir.

“What’s wrong?” Jared’s voice is drawling, slow but he tries to sit up, prey to the same constant anxiety that fuels Jensen’s dreams.

For that reason, Jensen’s quick to reassure him, urging Jared back down. “Nothing. S’okay.” No need to mention the dream. “I just wanted – to touch you.”

Putting action to words, Jensen nip-licks across Jared’s chest, sweeping over a soft nipple, feeling it pebble and harden against his tongue.

Jared reaches for him, tugging Jensen and rolling until Jared’s on his back and Jensen sprawls across him. Jensen shivers under Jared’s roaming caresses, even though Jared’s hands are warm. “You can touch me all you want, Jen. You know that.” Despite everything, there’s sleepy, sexy humor in Jared’s voice and Jensen can’t imagine living another moment outside of Jared’s body.

He’s only topped a couple times and always at Jared’s request; he doesn’t know if there’s a protocol, if Jared will even let him. “Jay—” His kiss is desperate, whole body cramping and tight with want, with need. Alive. Thank you God, alive. “Jay… I just want… I want inside you. Can I fuck you?” He wonders if he sounds as pathetic as he feels.

Jesus, Jenny, do you have to be such a girl?

Jared’s quiet for a few seconds. Almost long enough that Jensen’s ready to tell him never mind, go back to sleep. But Jared’s arm stills him when he tries to slide off his broad chest. “Jay—” he tries to protest, but before he knows it, he’s pulled down for a deep, sensuous delving of Jared’s tongue in his mouth and he’s drowning in it, in Jared.

When he comes up for air, Jared is breathing just as hard and already reaching for bedside stand where they keep supplies. “Fuck Jen, you don’t have to ask. Always can. Always want you inside me.” Jared’s still mumbling groggily but Jensen knows Jared means it as the truth.

Jared taps his arm with the cool plastic of the tube and Jensen takes it from him before claiming Jared’s wide, sweet mouth again. Jared opens for him, humming deep in his chest, and his legs spread, letting Jensen cradle between them. Jensen feels Jared’s dick hardening against his stomach, thick and hot; it makes him grind his hips down into the sheet, all his fear and need and want bursting into a fuck-or-die urgency.

As if sensing it, Jared holds his hand out for some lube and Jensen squeezes a bit in both their hands. He lifts up to reach between Jared’s legs but Jared arches and gets there ahead of him. The deep whining groan Jared makes when his finger dips inside himself makes Jensen close his fingers tautly around the base of his own cock. With his bottom lip caught firmly between sharp teeth, Jensen breathes and watches-feels Jared writhe beneath him, squirming down as he adds a second and then third finger to the mix.

“Jen,” Jared breathes out through his teeth, and then whines. “Touch me.”

Jensen’s hand is powered on pure lust when he wraps slick fingers around Jared’s cock and strokes with careful, delicious slowness. Jared’s thighs shake, the soft sounds from his mouth nearly continuous as his arm pistons to the same rhythm Jensen’s set on his dick.

“So beautiful,” Jensen whispers, leaning in to mouth against the hard ridge of Jared’s hip.

Jared cries out, louder than before and bucks up. “God… God…” Jared pants, moans. “Jen…fuck me, okay? Just…Christ. Fuck me.”

And Jensen is lost.

He pulls Jared hand away, replacing it with his own. It’s not that he doubts Jared’s stretched himself enough; Jensen just wants to feel the clinging sear of Jared’s body on his own fingers before he slides his cock in. Lining up and thrusting in are the same single motion, going deep and feeling Jared part reluctantly around him.

Jared’s hand closes on the point of Jensen’s shoulder, digging hard as his body bows, taking Jensen deeper, further. Jared balls his other hand into a fist and takes it between his teeth, stifling his moan around it.

“I got you,” Jensen murmurs frantically, nuzzling against the stippled skin of Jared’s chest, “I got you.” He pulls out until just the crown rests inside before smoothly fucking into Jared again. And again.

Jensen knows his fingers are bruising the tender flesh of Jared’s side, his hip, but he can’t make himself gentle, whammied by the nownownow to have Jared. All of him he can touch, all of him period. He pulls Jared to him as he buries his dick to the root over and over.

He blinks the sweat from of his eyes, leans down to lick and bite at the corded muscles of Jared’s neck, ropy beneath salt-slick skin. Jensen reaches between them wanting—needing—to bring Jared off first as he feels his balls draw up and the sensation of fullness shifting his body, into his cock.

“Come on,” he grits between clenched teeth. “Come for me, baby. Lemme see it. Wanna see you.”

Jared cries out, Jensen’s words drawing his climax out like he reached inside and jerked it from him. Jared spasms in his hand, under him, around him and Jensen is positive he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

Jensen unwraps his fingers from Jared’s cock and shifts his grip onto the tightly muscled thighs on either side. Jensen’s hips snap sharply again and again to the quiet, helpless sound of Jared’s moans until his rhythm falters as his orgasm takes him. His mind sponges clean, his body tightens, and he spurts once, twice, before he finally shudders and falls over Jared at the third and final spasm. Jared oofs softly, but his hand spreads over the small of Jensen’s back and his face turns to nuzzle at the sweaty spikes of Jensen’s hair.

Jensen pants into Jared’s heaving chest, wondering if he’s going to stroke out from orgasm and overheating. Jared lets out a deep, shuddering sigh and Jensen wonders if he needs to explain himself. Jensen lets out a sigh of his own and lifts his head.

“No.” Jared’s hand presses down against Jensen’s spine, keeping him from moving. “You don’t have to say anything, Jen. S’alright.” Jared’s lips are dry but soft as they rasp over Jensen’s chin, tease at his mouth.

Jensen sighs out into the kiss as his heart ticks back down toward quiet. Gradually, Jared’s mouth slows and slacks. His hand seems to gain weight, flattening Jensen into him as he drifts down toward sleep, just like this, the two of them tangled and glued, wrecked and sweaty.

And Jensen’s never felt so loved in his life.


On to Stranger In the Night

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