Title: "An Ounce Of Prevention" Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles Rating: NC-17 Summary: They shouldn't be here, but it's not stopping them. Disclaimer: Never happened. Notes: Written for Drew and Caleb as a VERY late thank you gift. The request was for suit!kink and wall!sex, but somehow, I just don't think this is what they had in mind. However, this is what the muses gave me. *g* Special thanks to Dee, Nan and Jo for giving me the thwap over the head I needed to finish. "Thought we weren't...gonna do this...again," Jensen groaned, head falling forward on Jared's shoulder as Jared wrapped his hand comfortably around Jensen's cock and started moving. The empty hallway was narrow, dim, the light overhead flickering in a fluorescent strobe, shadowing Jared's expression, but Jensen already knew what he'd see behind normally open, friendly eyes. Need, guilt, remorse, determination...but the guilt and remorse wouldn't stop them. It never did. Jensen clawed at Jared's suit jacket, heavy cotton bunching under his fingers, and moaned again, biting his lip to keep the sound from echoing. No telling how much time they had before someone came to find them, before they had to face their adoring public and the press and Tania, Jesus, Sandy and Tania, who were at their table, waiting for them to come back, and... "Stop thinking," Jared ordered, rough, chapped lips abrading a path along Jensen's throat. Jensen drew in a shuddering breath, tasting stale air -- he could smell Jared's aftershave, the slightly seabreezy scent of shampoo. Jared twisted his wrist, jerked up, then down, and Jensen's hips bucked in time, eyes screwing shut with each movement. They shouldn't be doing this. Jensen should straighten his clothing, step away from the heat, the forbidden promise of Jared's touch, go back to the main room. Go back to the table and the excellent dinner, to their friends and fans waiting for them, make bad jokes to the press, dance with his girlfriend, whisper sweet promises in her ear; ignore the heat of Jared's gaze on him, always on him, always taunting him with something he knew he could never have, didn't want to have. The last time they'd wound up like this, half-naked and sweaty and out of control, Jensen had berated himself for a month, could barely meet Tania's eyes for a week. The memory of it, the last time need had overcome propriety and sense and reason, slammed through him like a punch to the gut, had him groaning again, biting Jared's neck to hold back the sound. Jared, always the instigator (and what did that make Jensen for never stopping him), had pinned Jensen down on the bed he shared with Sandy and had sucked Jensen off with a ferocity that'd had him coming so hard he'd almost blacked out. All the while, Jensen had heard the wild sounds of the party going on right outside the door. It had lasted forever and taken only moments, and afterward, Jared had acted like nothing had happened, like he hadn't swallowed Jensen's come and shared a sticky kiss with him before disappearing into the living room. Jared had smiled and laughed with their friends, had swept Sandy off to the Jacuzzi with a wicked grin amidst good-natured catcalls and suggestions and hadn't looked back. Jensen had stuck close to Tania for the rest of the night, had vowed to himself that it wouldn't happen again. It couldn't happen again. Then tonight Jared had followed him out of the main banquet hall, dragged him down a deserted hallway and Jensen hadn't had the strength or the will to say no. No didn't seem to be a word that meant anything around Jared anyway. "Wanted...drove me crazy," Jared muttered, teeth closing on Jensen's earlobe, and Jensen shuddered, surrendered to the inevitable. He wormed a hand between them, yanked on Jared's tie to align their lips together, the kiss messy and hot. Jensen tasted the hollandaise sauce they'd had with dinner mixed with the heavier taste of hops on Jared's tongue and he moaned, shifting closer, sliding his hand down along a muscled chest to tease at Jared's zipper, then easing it down. If he was going to burn for this, he may as well burn for a reason. Jensen curled his tongue along Jared's, spots dancing behind his eyes as he filled his hand with Jared's cock, working him with long, sure strokes, matching the flick of Jared's wrist. Dimly, he could hear the low strains of Chopin from the string quartet set up in the main room, the murmur of voices carrying down the hallway mingled with the soft clink of silverware on fine china plates, normal sounds, everyday sounds. Everything this was not. He could feel the urgency in the air, knew their time was running out, that they could get caught at any minute, and part of him wanted... He flexed his hips, growling into the next kiss as Jared's thumb dragged over the head of his cock. "There ya go," Jared murmured, the sound amused, predatory, and Jensen responded by squeezing his fingers, shutting Jared up with another tangled kiss. Shouldn't be here, shouldn't... But he knew promises and good intentions didn't mean a goddamn thing when Jared was around him, slamming him against the nearest surface and making him forget that regret was even a word. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!