Sunny Afternoon

by Nomelon

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Jared/Jensen

Summary: Jared/Jensen making out in a trailer during their lunch break

Disclaimer: all belongs to CW & Kripke. No money is being made, yadda yadda.

~~~

"Dude," Jared says, with barely a twitch of his fingers in the vague direction of the little table. "'m starving. Pass me the thing."

Jensen slants his gaze towards the table, where their highly nutritional lunch of Ritz crackers, Easy Cheese and diet soda sits warming in a slatted sunbeam. They're both sprawled out over the little couch in Jensen's trailer, Jared taking up way more than his fair share of cushions, and Jensen's so tired right now he wants to cry.

Jensen doesn't even speak. Just snorts out a soft little breath through his nose and rolls his head on the back of the couch so he can blink a lazy little scowl at Jared.

"Come on, man," Jared says, flopping over so his face is smooshed up against Jensen's shoulder. He bats weakly at Jensen's thigh with the back of his hand. "You're closer."

Jensen just grunts, feeling petulant, feeling like if he had the energy he'd throw an epic tantrum, just because. But Jared's still batting at his thigh like a cat, still pushing at Jensen's shoulder with his face, his goddamn face, making all these little whiny, snuffly noises like that's going to make Jensen get his ass off this seat any time soon. Jensen just sits there, wide-kneed and boneless, with his hands lax at his sides, watching Jared bump up against him.

Eventually it seems to sink in that his tactics aren't working, and Jared lifts his head, his cheeks pink from the heat in the trailer, blinking his messy bangs out of his eyes.

"Why you gotta be so mean to me?" he asks, pouting a little, and Jensen snorts. Jared nods, his hand warm and heavy on Jensen's thigh. "Mean," he says. "You never give me anything I want."

Jensen leans in and touches their mouths together, sucking on Jared's bottom lip. "I gave you what you wanted last night. Three times."

"Three and a half," Jared says, grinning with his eyes closed, and it makes Jensen's heart pitterpat in his chest. Jared's hand slides a little higher and Jensen sighs, shifting his hips.

"Whose fault was that?"

Jared opens his eyes, wide and innocent, and gives a little shrug. "Don't blame me, man. That was one hell of a half."

"For you maybe," Jensen grumbles, trying to ignore the way Jared's hand is sneaking up under his shirt, his thumb smoothing over the muscles of Jensen's belly. "I was having fun right up until you fell asleep on me."

"You should be happy," Jared says, nosing at Jensen's jaw. "You wore me out. That's not bad for an old guy."

Jensen draws back a little to glare at him. "Jared. You fell asleep on me. On top of me."

"I did?" Jared asks, staring at Jensen's mouth. "Huh. Guess I owe you one."

Jared lifts his hand to Jensen's face, brushing over stubble, cradling his jaw. Their kiss is lazy, flavoured with the sweet tang of soda, and Jensen sighs into it, closing his eyes so there's only the two of them, the rest of the world fading away. Everything is still and quiet, and this is exactly where Jensen wants to be.

"You owe me one and a half," he says when their kiss fades into occasional little touches of lips, sleepy smiles, their foreheads resting together.

Jared smiles, all white teeth and dimples. "You got it."

The end.