Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4911952.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Original_Female_Character(s), Jensen_Ackles, Jared_Padalecki
  Additional Tags:
      Step-parents, Teenagers, Comeplay, Dirty_Talk, Exhibitionism, Daddy_Kink,
      Community:_spn-masquerade, Kink_Meme, Age_Difference, Alternate_Universe
  Series:
      Part 3 of SPN_Masquerade_Fills
  Collections:
      SPN_Masquerade_Fall_2015
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-01 Words: 3377
****** Salted Caramel ******
by kelleigh_(girlfromcarolina)
Summary
     Jared is in love with his mother's new husband.
Notes
     Written for the following prompt during SPN Masquerade: J1 is in love
     with his mother's new husband, J2. No preference on which J is which.
     Younger J between 12-15 please.
     Jared is 14. Jensen is 35.
“If there’s someone you want to bring home, I don’t mind. I’m out of town so
often these days—”
Jared holds his breath and leans closer to the door of Jensen’s bedroom. His
mom’s tone is casual and unaffected. She could be talking about the grocery
list instead of blithely giving her current husband permission to see other
people.
It’s weird. Then again, there’s nothing normal about the situation in the
Padalecki-Ackles household.
“Sophie,” Jensen sighs, “I’m fine.”
“It just seemed like you were so stressed out a month ago, but things have been
better lately,” Jared’s mom points out. “I’m not imagining that, right? I
thought it might be because you met someone.”
Jared’s pulse skips over a beat. He ducks his head even though there’s no one
to see the flush on his cheeks.
“It’s just ‘cause I’ve been working out more,” Jensen insists soberly. “But
there’s no way I’d bring an outsider into our home just for…that. Not with
Jared here. He’s a smart kid, Sophie—he knows what we’re doing, but at his age,
he doesn’t need another disruption in his life. I’m just trying to set a good
example...”
Jensen’s voice trails off as he moves further into his bedroom where Jared can
no longer hear.
Grinning, Jared slips away. It’s taken years for the hallway to teach Jared its
quiet spots, how to make it from the stairs to his bedroom at the end without a
single creak or groan from the hardwood. It’s not as if anyone expects him to
be home yet, anyway, seeing that his curfew is an hour away.
He’d been pushing curfew since he started high school. His mom couldn’t care
less—as long as his grades were good, he enjoyed his freedom—but once Jensen
came into the picture, a lot began to change.
Jensen had this way of staring at Jared whenever he came home late. Disapproval
accompanied by a flash of heat that went straight to the pit of Jared’s stomach
and diffused south. That look stuck with Jared; he saw Jensen’s face whenever
his friends tried to convince him to break curfew.
They didn’t understand that he had something better than a porn vid or a stolen
case of warm beer waiting for him at home. To them, parents were a hassle to be
avoided at all costs. Jared used to think that way, until Jensen.
Once he’s safely behind his closed door, Jared flops back onto his bed, heart
light and filled with warmth like a hot air balloon that wants to carry him up,
up, and away. Distantly he hears Jensen heading for the stairs, the muffled
thump of a carry-on suitcase hitting the wall as Jensen takes it downstairs for
Jared’s mom.
Sophie Padalecki married Jensen Ackles less than a year ago. They’d been
straight forward with Jared from the beginning. Jensen needed a green card to
stay in the country and Jared’s mom, far more interested in her company than
pursuing another romance after Jared’s father passed away more than five years
ago, was willing to marry Jensen, the handsome and charming orthopedic surgeon
she met when she broke her leg in a car accident.
At first, Jared raged at the decision like the discontent, hormonal teenager he
was, happy with his mom’s disinterest and barely-there parenting. He didn’t
need a father; he liked getting away with everything.
Then he met Jensen, and his hormones began to rage for a very different reason.
The knock on Jared’s door is light. His mom peeks in when he doesn’t say
anything. She smiles half-heartedly.
“Jensen said he saw your bike around back,” she says. “I didn’t think you’d be
home before I left. Do you have much homework?”
“No,” he mutters, rolling over and grabbing his iPad off the nightstand.
Accustomed to one-word answers and little to no eye-contact, Jared’s mom
continues undiscouraged. “Jensen’s downstairs if you need help with any of your
assignments. I’ll text you when I land, okay?”
She doesn’t linger for a response, tossing a quick love you over her shoulder
before she closes the door. She was barely in the room long enough for her
jasmine perfume to reach Jared’s nose. Jared lies back on his bed, distractedly
flipping through his Instagram feed. He’s more focused on the sounds coming
from downstairs. Heels clicking across the tiled kitchen floor. Keys jangling
as his mom picks them out of the glass bowl by the door. Distant rumble of the
garage lift opening and closing.
Now comes the wait.
Jared is young and the list of things that arouse him is long and varied. He’ll
get hard from the barest hint of pressure across his groin, or a heavy touch on
his thigh. His cock responds to hot steam in the bathroom when the shower is
running as well as the sight of a supple tongue licking cold ice cream from a
long spoon. Just thinking about it summons a well-worn image to the front of
Jared’s mind.
Jensen has a nice tongue, wide and cunning. He’s always licking the corner of
his lips unconsciously, no idea how distracting the sight can be. He loves ice
cream and gelato and yogurt—anything that requires a spoon. Watching that
tongue curve around the bend of the metal, making sure both sides are swept
clean, is guaranteed to appeal to Jared’s teenage libido, directing blood
towards his cock no matter where he is or who else is in the room.
Maybe Jensen’s enjoying something cold now that Jared’s mom has left for the
airport. Jared knows there’s a pint of salted caramel gelato in the freezer.
Jensen eats it right out of the container; it leaves a salty sweetness on his
tongue and a chill on his lips and hands. The effect of a cold touch on Jared’s
heated skin can leave him breathless, gasping through bruised, parted lips.
Sure as Sunday, Jared’s cock begins to swell behind the close press of his
jeans. It barely requires a thought to move his hand down to massage himself
over his clothes, encouraging. His mom is gone and Jensen knows he’s up here,
alone, obviously doing what every fourteen year old boy does when he’s got five
minutes and a little privacy.
Jared’s mind uploads one of his favorite memories to enhance his solo
experience. Jared’s mom absent on one of her frequent business trips, giving
Jared and Jensen the house to themselves for the first time; the inevitable
explosion of tension that had been present ever since Jensen moved in two
months before the wedding. Jared remembers the way Jensen sat on the bed in the
guestroom, not a hint of surprise on his face when Jared walked in. His gaze
was warm, welcoming; his legs were spread leaving plenty of space for Jared’s
skinny hips.
”If you don’t want this—”
Jared remembers the way he laughed. ”Are you kidding me right now? We both
know—”
“I need to hear you say it.”
Jensen needed to hear it from Jared’s lips. Explicitly. Wouldn’t move an inch
without it. Of course Jared gave it to him.
”Feels like I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me, Jensen. I want you to. I
need—”
There was no going back after that.
Jared kicks off his shoes and works himself out of his long-sleeved shirt, cock
throbbing in the absence of pressure from his hand. Feels good to deny himself,
even for only a minute, until he’s down to his t-shirt and can unbutton his
jeans. Soon even that’s too much, and he shoves his hand back in his pants,
skimming over the top of his dick and feeling the pleasure race straight up his
spine.
He’s got a hair-trigger, but he wants to be patient. Jensen taught him that.
Showed him how much better it can be when he takes his time, teases himself.
Doesn’t always work, but fortunately Jared’s a teenager. The second time he
comes is usually spine-melting and white-hot. Totally worth the time Jensen
insists he take getting there.
Right now, Jared’s eager to get the first one out of the way. It won’t take
long. His boxers are old and loose, giving way easily to his creeping fingers.
Jared begins stroking himself, no desire to ease into the sensations. He keeps
his eyes closed, licking his lips and wishing he could feel Jensen’s mouth on
his at the same time. He jerks himself slowly, button and zipper jangling where
his jeans hang open over his thighs.
“That’d be easier if you were naked.”
Jensen’s voice doesn’t startle him; Jared felt the air move when he opened the
bedroom door, or maybe he felt the weight of Jensen’s breath as he stood in the
doorway watching with a grin on his face.
“Feels good anyway,” Jared insists. He would wave Jensen over, but one hand is
already occupied and he knows Jensen will end up on top of him regardless. Why
waste the energy? “Gonna join me?”
 
“Just watching for now.”
“Can you see from way over there?” Jared teases, hitching his hips up into his
hand. “Your eyesight’s kinda shitty.”
Which is totally true. He’s tried on Jensen’s glasses and endured Jensen’s
chuckling when he looked ridiculous in them; he’s sat on the bathroom counter
many times watching Jensen put in his contacts in the morning and take them out
at night, his knee bumping Jensen’s thigh when he tries to get closer to the
mirror. Jensen must still be wearing his contacts tonight, though. Jared has an
unimpeded view of his clear green eyes without the glasses.
“Don’t swear.” He can hear the smirk in Jensen’s voice. “Your mom doesn’t like
it.”
“Yeah? Well she’s not here,” Jared pointlessly reminds him. “Won’t be back
until Sunday. Besides, you like it when I swear. Like when I tell you how
fucking good my hand feels right now.” Jared swallows. “But yours would feel
better.”
“I said I want to watch,” says Jensen at the same time he shuts the door and
steps towards the bed. “Guess I don’t need to be so far away.”
“Plenty of room for you on the bed.” Jared drops his voice, tries to sound
enticing. To look the part, too, but spreading his legs pulls his jeans tight
over his cock and traps his hand awkwardly. Instead of igniting the heat in
Jensen’s eyes, it brings a gentle smile to his face.
“You look ridiculous, Jay,” he sighs, kneeling up onto the bed. It’s probably
true—shirt rucked up over his pale stomach, jeans and boxers wrinkled, hair
askew.
He frowns. He wants to try for Jensen.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. This doesn’t have to be perfect.”
That’s something Jared’s gotten used to hearing from Jensen’s lips. All Jared
wanted was to be Jensen’s perfect boy at first. Soft and smooth and vulnerable.
Needy. In reality he only checks one of those boxes. For some reason, though,
Jensen still wants him. He’s far from soft and definitely not smooth (hormones
and acne are a real bitch); Jensen likes his angular hips and too-long limbs.
He’s not bullied at school, but he’s heard the girls whispering to one another.
Wishing he was taller, broader. Less of a boy, more of a man.
Jared thinks there’s something to be said about not growing up too fast.
Hearing he’s not perfect—that they’re not perfect—makes Jared smile, even
though he thinks Jensen comes pretty close. On top of being a doctor, he’s
caring and sexy as hell. Crazy, too, if he loves Jared, and that’s just a
bonus. He’s Canadian, but like Jensen said, he’s not perfect, either.
“Let me make things a little easier.” That means letting Jensen help get his t-
shirt over his head and his hand untangled from his boxers and jeans. Jared
shimmies into his touch, aching for significant contact. Hoping Jensen won’t be
able to restrain himself. He knows Jared too well to break right away, a smirk
on his face when he leans back.
“Better now?”
Jared’s hand goes right back to his dick, barely any heat lost. Straight into
his rhythm again, pumping and groaning with the added weight of Jensen’s hand
on his thigh, gripping but not moving further up.
“Bet you’re already close, Jay. You don’t even need my help, do you?”
Jared doesn’t—not that he minds having a little assistance, whatsoever.
“I could watch you touch yourself for hours, but I know you’re desperate. So
let me see you fuck your hand, Jay. Stroke yourself as hard as you need to.”
Jared can definitely do that. Body let off its leash, he arches his spine the
way he knows drives Jensen crazy. Pulls and twists, works his cock while he
looks at Jensen, blood singing.
“It’s so hot seeing you do this for me, knowing that you like it, too.”
A few months ago, the idea of performing for someone never would have appealed
to him. Why settle for his own hand when he could get someone else to touch
him? Knowing what it does to Jensen, though, makes all the difference. Jared
knows how much Jensen loves watching him; it gives Jared all the power even
though he’s just a teenager and Jensen had sex for the first time when he was
only a little older than Jared is now (and Jensen refuses to take that final
step yet). Jensen has done so much, been with so many people, but Jared has a
hard time imagining his stepfather looking at anyone else the way he’s looking
at Jared tonight.
His next breath has trouble making it out of his lungs. “You want me to come?”
Jensen’s eyes are two points of blazing heat, lust finally settling over his
entire expression.
“All over yourself. I want to see it all over your stomach. You haven’t gotten
off since last night, have you, Jay?”
Jared finally hits the right combination of grip strength, speed of his
strokes, and Jensen’s tongue licking over his thick bottom lip, and comes with
a broken groan. He shoots through his fist, come landing heavy and warm in wide
drops from his hips to above his navel. Laying a path Jensen walks with his
gaze.
“Just when I think you can’t look any better…” Jensen sighs. Definitely not a
comfortable sound. All Jared has to do is drop his eyes to see why. His
stepfather is hard in his jeans, the dim light adequate enough to see the thick
ridge behind the denim. If Jared could concentrate right now, he might be able
to see it pulsing in time with Jensen’s heartbeat.
“C’mon, take those off—” Jared pants, reaching for Jensen’s zipper with clumsy,
lethargic muscles. “You don’t have to wait. I wanna see you, too.”
Jensen doesn’t tease or hesitate. Though his fingers do tremble over his fly,
Jared doesn’t comment. Only smiles to himself. He may be the one at the mercy
of rampaging hormones, but they’re equally affected.
Jensen only has enough patience to shove his jeans and boxer-briefs down his
thighs, gorgeous cock bouncing within Jared’s reach. He doesn’t touch but he
longs to. He knows how it feels in his hands and his mouth, familiar with the
contours and the weight, still eager to finish learning its hidden
sensitivities. There’s no doubt he’ll be treated to another lesson tonight.
Hopefully one that tests his oral skills, Jared thinks, setting another wave of
arousal through his body.
He needs to see to Jensen, first. It’s only fair that his stepfather be as
wrecked and sweaty as Jared.
“Want me to—”
“No,” Jensen cuts in before the offer is made. “You don’t need to do anything,
Jay.”
“I want to help.”
“You are,” Jensen stresses, hotwiring Jared’s nerves by shifting to kneel
between his lazy, open thighs, nudging forward until Jared feels him right up
against his sated yet perpetually interested cock. The air is forced out of his
lungs when Jensen drags his fingers through the pooling come on Jared’s stomach
and brings it to his erection.
Jared nearly swallows his tongue, surprised by the high pitch of the whine that
comes from his own throat.
Jensen smiles, gaze gone dark and smoky. “Oh, did you want some?” He strokes
his cock with a purpose, no build-up to his rhythm. Jared’s performance brought
him most of the way already, Jared notes. silently smug. “I can’t help it, Jay.
I’m greedy for everything you give me, but I’m willing to share if you want.”
Jared moans again, hungry lips already open. With his unoccupied hand, Jensen
swipes through the mess above his navel and brings it to Jared’s mouth,
painting his lips. His hand is shaking. Jared, completely willing and desperate
to show it, tucks his chin forward and pulls Jensen’s fingers into his mouth.
“God, yes…” Jensen hisses. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.” With more confidence,
Jensen switches hands, feeding Jared another taste of his own come and watching
with blown pupils as Jared covers his fingers with warm saliva. He repeats the
move until Jared’s stomach is clean and his tongue is saturated with his own
taste.
Jared’s chin is covered in spit when Jensen removes his hand and brings it to
his cock. His other hand settles around Jared’s ribs, tickling his back. It’s a
matter of minutes before Jensen is arching forward, fucking his own hand while
Jared whispers nonsense, no good with words the way Jensen is.
“Want it, Jen,” is what he manages to say.
Jensen’s flush runs from his cheeks down past his throat and under his shirt.
Eyes crinkled at the corners as he grits his teeth and shudders, nearly
overcome. So fucking hot, Jared still can’t believe he’s the only one who’s
earned the right to see his stepfather like this.
“All over me, just like you said.”
“Fuck,” Jensen curses through bared teeth. Jared flails out and grabs him by
the hips, pulls him forward and up until Jensen is braced above him, chest
heaving.
Jensen’s come falls in bursts, the first hitting Jared’s collarbone and the
hollow of his throat. The second lands on Jared’s chin, the splatter trailing
over his bottom lip. The last drops just above Jared’s right nipple, shining on
his pale skin. Insensible, Jensen can only stare at the strange pattern he’s
created on Jared’s body, eyes flicking from one pool to another until he lights
on Jared’s mouth.
Lost for words, he falls forward until their lips crash together, Jensen
moaning as he breaks away so that his tongue can carefully remove his come from
Jared’s chin. This time they share the spoils.
Never able to get enough of Jensen’s kisses, Jared is reluctant to let him go
until he realizes Jensen wants to lick every trace of come from his body.
Teasing his throat with a gentle oral caress. Firmer when he licks and bites
the spill over Jared’s chest, teeth sinking into developing muscle for only a
moment, too light to leave a mark but enough to cause a hitch in Jared’s
breath.
Jensen collapses beside him, lips red and flush receding until only his cheeks
are pink.
“So good, baby,” Jensen mumbles, eyes already closed as he reaches out for
Jensen.
Naked, Jared presses himself against his half-clothed stepfather, tangling
their legs and letting their breaths fall into matching rhythms.
“Thank you, daddy,” he whispers like it’s a secret, barely loud enough for
Jensen to hear, but he doesn’t miss the way Jensen’s mouth turns up at the
corner.
Normally they’d be rushing to clean up, erase any trace of their activities
from Jared’s bedroom, Jensen’s room, the bathroom, or, on one memorable
occasion, the hardwood stairs. But with Jared’s mom gone for several days,
Jared breathes a little easier. Smiles to himself when he thinks about all the
things they’ll be able to do, everything he’ll be able to learn. New
secrets—new ways to keep Jensen coming back to him.
He understands if Jensen needs a fifteen minute cat nap, though, looking over
to see his handsome stepfather already dozing at his side.
No need to rush; the night is far from over.
 
FIN.
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