Get the door, its Domino's

By notthequi ettype

Pairing: Jared/Jensen. AU. Also starring Tom Welling, Michael Rosenbaum, and Chad Michael
Murray.
Rating: Adult
Summary:Jared's a young, up-and-coming actor and model, biding his time as a pizza boy as he
waits for his big break. It's just a job until he meets Jensen Ackles, star of the CW's Iron Man and
reclusive member of the young, Hollywood elite. One delivery can change everything.
Words: 25,640

Part 1


Jared's staring into the glass window front of the second oven and picking red pepper flakes out
of his teeth. He knows he should stop eating the product, but he's already worked seven and a
half hours and the low-fat yogurt and granola bar he had at lunch really didn't cut it.

He really needs to drop ten pounds. He'll have to give up pizza tomorrow.

"Jared."

The kitchen is approximately 600 degrees Fahrenheit and Jared is like, really tired of being at
work.

"Jared."

He's supposed to be off in fifteen minutes, but now Mike's hassling him and like, DEMANDING
that he take a last delivery all the fucking way up to Doheny and it's royally pissing him off
because it's LATE and he wants to go home. He has an audition tomorrow and if he looks like
shit, there is no way they're going to hire him to be the new face of Clinique's men's face care
line.

Just working in this hell hole is doing enough damage to his previously flawless complexion, he
doesn't need exhaustion to make the entire situation worse.

"JARED!"

Jared turns around to face Mike at the counter. He brushes his hair out of his eyes and sighs
deeply. "Okay, I'm leaving. SORRY. God forbid someone on Doheny miss out on their 8,000
calories of pizza!"

Mike's wearing this god awful button-down designed after the Domino's racing car. It's like, not
even required that the managers wear it and yet, there it is in its multi-colored horror.

Mike's a good boss and almost never yellswhich Jared really, really appreciates because
yelling is so bad for his stress levels and when those get out of whack he has to double-time it at
the gym and stick to an all green dietbut Mike's life aspiration is managing a Domino's and
Jared doesn't know how to deal with someone who's actually achieved their life goals. It's very
uncomfortable, even when the dream was never like, working New York and London's fashion
week or starring in their own TV show.

"Just call me when you finish the delivery and I'll clock you out. And don't lie for overtime or I'll
fucking stab you when you come in tomorrow."

Mike's always making stupid threats. Chad thinks it's like the single funniest thing to happen in
the history of ever and Tom rolls his eyes every time. Jared thinks that one day Tom's going to
get like, vertigo or something and faint.

Jared leaves without another word and climbs into his Prius. He loves his car because being
environmentally conscious is a very important part of being a celebrity. He knows he isn't famous,
yet, but it never hurts to be adequately prepared.

He gets settled and plugs his iPod into the dash. He puts it on his "Pain in the Ass Deliveries"
playlist and smiles when "Toxic" comes on. He really can't wait for Britney's triumphant
comeback.

Jared is not at all excited for this drive. He wants to take the long way, up Wilshire and back down
Doheny to cross Sunset and drop in right at the Towers, but fucking Wilshire is three-fourths
closed for repairs or filming or whatever.

Normally, taking Sunset is not that big of a deal. Jared's like, a pretty good driver. He's
aggressive, but in that really California way that his mom used to talk about when they'd come to
visit his Aunt Tessie after she moved onto the commune.

"Those people," she'd say, all Texas sass, "they cut you off, flip you the bird, and throw a
business card in your window with a smile."

Jared didn't get it because really, who even used business cards these days? But his momma
had said he'd learned it too when she came out that first summer and he drove her to San Diego
to go to the wild animal park.

But tonight, there's a show at the Whiskey, the Roxy, and the Key Club and not like, the normal
shitty shows, but real Friday night shows, headliner-y type people who actually sell out the
venues and proceed to fuck up parking and traffic until after three in the morning.

Jared really doesn't appreciate it.

The drive takes forever and he makes it almost all the way to the end of his playlist before the
towers even come into sight.

When they do, he pulls in under the awning and tosses the valet his keys, lifting the pizza boxes
up, the universal sign for "do not move my fucking car, you insane piece of shit".

The building's nice and it still makes his heart do this ridiculous fluttering thing in his chest when
he walks in even though he's been here like 7,000 times since he started delivering pizza
between auditions, but it's got this awesome classy 1960s feel to it and, if he were the kind of guy
that liked that whole era, he'd say it gave him inklings of Marilyn Monroe. Or Madonna's Marilyn
Monroe phase.

He just hopes to make the kind of bank he needs to live in a place like this. Like, SOON.

He tells the concierge the name and condo number and he pushes the elevator up button for
Jared and everything, tells him how to get to the door, since Jared's never been to that one
before, and tells him that he'll see him on his way back down.

He's sweet, so Jared figures he must be new. Concierges are supposed to be cocksuckers of the
highest order. And not fun cocksuckers, like Jared, but the mean ones who call the cops if you
take too long dropping pizza off.

This J. Ackles guy lives on the eleventh floor as far away from the elevator as humanly possible,
in the huge corner condo that has all the floor to ceiling windows. Jared knows because you can
actually see it from the street.

He pauses outside the door and takes a deep breath, repeats his mantra. "It could be a casting
agent, so look your best."

Jared's wearing fake-vintage jeans and black and white checkered slip-on Vans. That's the look
his agent said is working right now and Mike's not real picky about the dress-code, as long as he
wears the polo shirt with the logo on the chest. Today's is black and fits snugly across his well-
defined pecs. He looks a little like a beach bum and it's a totally good look for him. He checks his
hair in the reflection of his watch. All is well. Not that he expected anything different.

He lifts his hand to the door, checks his nailsperfectly shaped and pristine of courseand raps
his knuckles three times, polite but firm like his handshake.

The door pops open before he can even put his hand at his side and it's like that Greek god guy
at the door, the really pretty one, Adonis or whoever. Only he's dressed really badly and has like,
three days worth of stubble and a greasy t-shirt over basketball shorts and Jared is torn between
horror, desire, and a desperate need to make this guy over ASAP.

Jared smiles warmly and hopes that J. Ackles will not turn out to be a smelly hermit. "You ordered
two larges?"

Jared waits, but the guy doesn't say anything, he just shoves the door open wider and walks
inside and Jared thinks he's probably not a serial killer or anything, but he's pretty sure he doesn't
want to find out the wrong way.

He thinks about just setting the pizzas inside the door and yelling for his money or maybe just
leaving and telling Mike that no one was home, but then J. Ackles pops his head back into
Jared's line of vision and smiles. "Can you put those on the table for me?"

No one whose eyes crinkle up like that when they smile can be a serial killer or a rapist, so Jared
steps through the doorway and steers himself toward the kitchen.

The apartment's clean, but not anal-retentively organized or anything, so it doesn't seem weird.
It's comfortable, but not too overdone and it looks like it probably wasn't a designer who did it.
The curtains are too simple and the furniture is too user-friendly to have been chosen by a
professional. Tasteful, but not trying too hard. Jared totally approves.

J. Ackles is standing in front of his sink, elbows deep in sudsy water, his bare right foot drawn up
and scratching his calf. Jared pulls the pizzas out of his bag and sets them down on the table. He
lays out the receipt and a pen and waits patiently for Jensen to come and sign his money away.

He just keeps washing dishes, rinsing carefully and putting them into the drying rack and, while
the view of his ass is nice and all, Jared keeps coughing in an attempt to get his attention.

He twists his head and smiles that huge bright smile again. "I'll just be another minute. You want
something to drink? There's all kinds of stuff in the fridge, grab whatever you want."

Jared doesn't think this is necessarily a good idea, but he figures that if all else fails, he'll get
overtime since the delivery isn't technically over, so he walks over and grabs a bottle of Evian
from the door. He opens it and takes a deep swallow. Refreshing. "You want something?"

"Grab me a beer, will ya?"

Jared reaches back into the fridge and grabs a Heineken. Solid choice, he thinks, not too frilly
and not too butch. Laid-back and again with the not trying to hard. He twists the top off and puts
the bottle down next to the sink as Jensen rinses and dries his hands.

"Thanks, man." He takes a long drink and steps toward the kitchen table. "You ever notice how
you only get deliveries when you're elbows deep in something wet or sticky?"

Jared laughs and takes a swallow of his water. "Yeah, we do seem to have the worst timing."

"Your boss pay you extra for that?"

Jared smiles and watches J. Ackles signs the receipt slip and scribbles down a tip amount. "First
name's Jensen?"

"Yeah."

"That's kind of cool, don't hear that much."

"I threatened to change it when I was a kid. I thought it was a girl's name. Everyone called me
Jenny. Annoying as fuck." He hands Jared the pen and receipt and Jared reads the tip as he slips
it into the pocket on his bag. He almost chokes on his Evian, but maintains his cool. Jensen
catches his eye. "You got a name, cowboy?"

"Jared." He raises his eyebrows. "Cowboy?"

"You got Texas written all over you. Where you from?"

Shit. Jared works like, really hard to keep his accent in check. His agent says it is utterly crucial to
his success. "San Antonio."

"I grew up in Richardson. Didn't think a god damn Spurs fan would be bringing me my pizza, I'da
asked for someone different."

Jared doesn't really like basketball. Like, he cheers for the Spurs because all of his San Antonio
boyfriends liked them, but the uniforms are SO unflattering. He really prefers football and baseball
with the tight pants. "I'm a Cowboys fan, 'm I forgiven?"

"I s'pose so." Jensen runs his thumb over his bottom lip in this really casual, criminally sexy way
and Jared has to take a deep breath and look at the carpet for a second. He doesn't usually find
mountain men attractive, but then again most mountain men are not also the mirror image of
Adonis. Or at least Jared doesn't think so. If they are, he really needs to look into going camping
more often. Even if it means bug bites and a chance run in with a cougar.

Jensen flips open the top box and puts a slice on the plate he has magicked into existence on the
table and Jared worries that he went away on the camping tangent for too long, but Jensen's
smiling and biting into a slice of Hawaiian and even if Jared went away for awhile, it doesn't seem
like Jensen minds much.

Jared moves to grab his bag. It's eleven-fifty and his shift ended a half-hour ago and if he doesn't
call Mike soon, he's scared he might actually get stabbed in the morning.

Jensen sets his plate down on the table and brushes his fingertips over Jared's shoulder. "You
play Tony Hawk?"

Jared's confused. He knows what all those words meanhe even met Tony Hawk one time at
this thing at the Santa Monica pier and like, he was really nice and made a great joke and signed
a magazine for Jared's sister and everythingbut he doesn't understand what Jensen means.
"Um, yes?"

"Your shift's over, right? Store closed?" Jensen takes another big bite of pizza and looks at Jared
expectantly.

"Um, yeah?"

"You eat what you deliver?"

Jared feels like he's in a game of twenty questions, but all the rules are wrong. "With red pepper
flakes."

"You want to hang out, play some American Wasteland?"

Jared hopes for a second that it's some really new sex game that he hasn't heard of yet, even if
that would make him feel pretty behind the curve, but when he looks over at Jensen's widescreen
TV on the wall, there's a video game menu on it. He's disappointed, but the big splashes of pink
and black are encouraging. Maybe it's like the one he played with his sister where he got to
design a house and fill it with people who spoke a language he didn't understand.

He really liked making the people's outfits and decorating the little rooms.

Jensen makes him a plate of pizza, two slices of Hawaiian and one of pepperoni that he is going
to have to work off on the elliptical in the morning, but Jensen looks totally delighted to hang out
with him, so he figures it's worth it. Even if his trainer always calls him a fat ass for motivation.

American Wasteland is, sadly, not a cool game where he gets to build houses and make little
people fall in love, it's skateboarding. He still gets to dress his little person up though, so it's all
good.

It's really hard though and he thinks he's really not coordinated enough to bother playing, but
Jensen is leaning all close on his big leather couch and like, guiding Jared's hands over the
buttons and showing him how to do tricks and breathing against Jared's neck and it's really kind
of awesome, even if his breath smells like ham and beer.

Jared has really good gaydar; it's super-impressive. He knew Lance was gay since way back
during the No Strings Attached era and he's never hit on a guy who turned out to be straight, but
Jensen is sort of confusing him and it's fucking with his head.

He drinks beer, but not like, Miller or Budweiser or anything. He plays video games, but ones in
hot pink boxes. He watches sports, but only hometown and local teams. He doesn't shave or
apparently know how to dress, but his body is gym-perfect underneath his stained Capitol
Records t-shirt.

Jared knows he's an actor and that he's on a TV show; they'd figured that out at the store, but
he's apparently not famous enough to be out on a Friday night. Or he's too famous to want to go
out on a Friday night.

Not that that really has anything to do with whether he likes buttsex, but it's important for Jared to
note anyway.

Jensen smells really good. There's a layer of cologne, something expensive but subtle,
sandalwood based, but sweet too. Then there's the soap and shampoo, expensive stuff, herb-
based and from a salon no doubt. Then there's that manly smell, skin and earth and blood and
sweat, the smell that Jared's herbalist says carries pheromones.

It's a very attractive smell and Jared takes deeper breaths each time Jensen gets close to show
him how to work the controller.

He's scared Jensen will figure out that he's being smelled, so he tries to reign in some semblance
of control. He's not fifteen anymore, he's not going to come just from looking at Josh Brighton's
hard-on in the shower.

Good lord that kid was well-hung.

Jensen's trying to explain the intricacies of a kick-flip when Jared comes back to planet Earth and
he doesn't even know what he's doing anymore. He's had exactly one beer and he feels drunk
and like he might start giggling which is weird because he hasn't even smoked any pot today.

"Dude, can't I just like, smash the buttons and hope for the best?"

Jensen looks aghast. "And where, San Antonio, is the skill in that?"

"Ohhh," Jared deadpans, "this is about skill. Got it. I thought we were pushing buttons and
making a little digitally rendered dude skateboard. Clearly, I was misinformed."

Jensen yanks the controller out of Jared's hands and shoves him with his shoulder playfully. "You
have no respect for the game." Jensen takes a drink of his beer before starting the game again.
"Your little digitally rendered dude resents your attitude."

"If he were really my little dude, he'd be on Melrose shopping, NOT wasting valuable daylight
hours skateboarding where he might get injured and ruin his face."

"He fully intends to make his fortune on a skate tour. It's really a very sweet dream. He hasn't
been hardened by the real world yet."

Jared chews carefully on a bite of crust, takes the last drink of his beer. "I guess we'll have to let
him learn the hard way."

Jensen smiles at the TV. "Maybe he'll suffer a career-ending injury before his dreams can get
crushed the old-fashioned way. Go out with a bang."

Jared pulls the controller out of Jensen's hands and starts mashing buttons. "I can guarantee
that."

Jensen laughs warmly and stands up from the couch. He stretches his arms far over his head,
arches back as his spine pops and his neck cracks. Jared is horrified by the way he's abusing his
bodyJared's chiropractor and massage therapist would so not approvebut his t-shirt rides up
and exposes this pale strip of belly skin and Jared forgets what he was going to say about
rheumatoid arthritis and the dangers of air in your joints.

"You want a beer?"

"Huh?" Jared's jaw is dropped open and he bets he looks totally special, in that "my mother says
I'm" kind of way.

Jensen laughs and holds up his empty. "Do you want another beer?"

"Oh, um, sure." Jared rubs his jaw. "Thanks."

Jensen comes back with two beers and Jared pauses the game and drops the controller on the
table. Jensen opens both bottles and hands one to Jared.

"So how long you been in L.A.?"

"Since I was seventeen. Got my GED and got the hell out of Texas. Been here six years now."
Jared is usually far more eloquent than this. He even took elocution courses when he was in
middle school. He's very good at communication normally. He's never even had an ex cry when
he broke up with them; he's just that good at communicating that they are at fault for the failure of
the relationship. He even had one guy thank him.

So this whole monosyllabic oral retardation is starting to bother him. Jensen is just a guy that
Jared brought pizza. This is no different than the 348,897 other people he's delivered pizza to in
the last year, so he can't begin to fathom why this mountain-y Adonis Jensen guy is making his
life so hard.

"God, you're so young. I feel like a dead man over here."

"Whatever, I'm ancient! I have CROWS FEET. It's a tragedy. My dermatologist won't give me a
chemical peel. She doesn't understand the business."

Jensen laughs and it's almost mocking, but it sounds warm and sweet and Jared would like to
hear it again. "Oh yeah, you're clearly a rotting corpse already."

Jared sighs. Aging is hard.

"What about you? What drew you to Hollywoodland?" That's better, calling Hollywood by its
vintage name is very charming. It's worked well for Jared in the past. Vintage is very hip this year.

"I got a modeling contract offer from some stage work in Dallas. My agent was an ass though,
total skeez, so I dumped my contract once I got here, started finding my own gigs." Jensen looks
thoughtful for a second, takes a long drink of his beer. "There are a ton of really horrendous
catalog shots of me out there to prove it."

Jared laughs. He can't really imagine that Jensen could look bad, especially on film. Except for if
he was like, bleeding from the gums or had a cold sore. Oral herpes doesn't look good on
anyone.

"You're on a TV show now, right?" A faint flush lights Jensen's cheeks and Jared gets really,
irrevocably embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I've never actually, y'know, seen it," Jared
tries not to swallow his tongue. "My boss said." He takes a deep breath and rubs his temples. He
needs to do some serious Buddhist spiritual maintenance ASAP. "Can we go back and pretend I
didn't say anything?"

"You've never seen it?"

"Um, I don't have cable?"

"It's on the CW."

"I, um." Jared really only watches America's Next Top Model and Project Runway. He doesn't
understand regular TV. He wants to be in the box, not glued to it.

"Not a single episode?"

"You're a robot or something, right?"

Jensen laughs, a deep-down belly laugh that sounds like it might be making fun of Jared, but
Jensen's eyes are all warm and crinkly and Jared's pretty sure he doesn't have a mean bone in
his entire perfectly proportioned body. "Not exactly. But there is a metal suit involved, so it's pretty
much the same."

Jared knows that Jensen plays Tony Stark aka Iron Man, not because he like, cares or anything,
but because Mike told him. Mike made this really lame joke about seeing him "stark-naked" and
Tom rolled his eyes and it was really awkward. Jared's pretty sure that Chad popped a huge
chubby. Chad is so easy. Stupidity is his aphrodisiac.

Jensen's talking about work, but not like normal people talk about work. He's talking about
reading scripts and how sometimes he thinks that there are no good, smart parts left and that the
only thing he'll ever be is this third-rate superhero on the fucking CW. He sounds smart and
sophisticated and Jared really likes him. He like, thinks deep things about acting and Jared thinks
that's cool. That's the kind of actor he wants to be someday, once he gets past all of the bullshit
infomercials and ad layouts.

Most importantly, Jensen is like, passionate and he talks with his hands and his voice is really
soothing and sexy and Jared is pretty sure that Jensen's completely amazing in bed. He's trying
not to think that far ahead, but Jensen's still sitting really close to him on the couch and like, not in
the friendly "I was teaching you to play video games way" but in that, legs turned in, face-to-face,
"I am so interested in fucking you" way.

Jared has a rule about not fucking on the first date. He thinks it's a little trashy. A blowjob or a
handjob, lots of making out, sure, but fucking is too far.

But like, technically this isn't a first date, so he's already willing to bend right the hell over and let
Jensen take what he wants.

But he's still not entirely sure about Jensen's buttsex preferences. Like, if he enjoys it period.
Jared is at a loss. Short of fellating his beer and asking if Jensen would like to be the bottle, he's
not entirely sure how to be the aggressor. Guys usually urge him into bed. He likes to do the
picking up in the bar or whatever, but the sex part, well, he prefers to be the passenger.

Jensen's not talking anymore. He's looking all soulfully into Jared's eyes and stroking his palm
over his thigh and licking his lips. He looks downright sultry, but he's not doing anything and
Jared thinks he's going to go crazy. He thinks that Madonna would have powerful words of advice
for the situation, something about reaching out and seizing the moment probably; sex is just
human nature after all, but Jared can't pull anything up, not a single word of wisdom from the
great Madge.

He feels completely defeated.

Jared's seriously contemplating just sucking it up and closing the gap between them; he can
practically feel Jensen's lush lips against his, warm and wet and yielding. Or maybe Jensen will
lead, lick into Jared's mouth, slide his hands up to hold Jared's jaw, kiss him breathless and
stupid.

But Jensen stands up.

Jared feels his face fall in defeat. This is completely unacceptable.

Jensen starts cleaning up, packing the pizza into one box and sticking it into the fridge, wiping
down the counters and picking up beer bottles. It's casual though; it doesn't feel like "oh my god,
get the fuck out of my house," even if that's only because Jensen is so incredibly polite.

Jared walks over and drags his fingertips over Jensen's shoulder where he stands at the sink.
"You need help?"

Jensen smiles, fucking thousand watt bright, and Jared's breath hitches. "You could put away the
dry dishes for me. Make room for these."

Jensen points out the cupboards and Jared's got everything put away in no time. Jensen's
apparently very good about getting his dishes done every night. When Jared turns back to the
sink, Jensen's staring at him, white teeth pressed into his bottom lip, smirking.

"What?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Why'd you come in?"

"When?"

"Tonight. When I asked."

"Because you asked me to." Jared shrugs. "I needed my receipt signed."

"What if I was like a serial killer or something?"

Jared laughs. "I thought about hermit, maybe, but not a serial killer. Not in digs this posh."

"My closets could be full of the bodies of hot young pizza boys."

Jared's face splits in a wide smile. "You think I'm hot!" This is the greatest development of the
night. Jared was really starting to feel his self-esteem slipping.

"Maybe they were hot. Maybe you're alive because you're not hot enough."

"Nope, not possible, you totally think I'm hot. I mean, I'm totally the hottest one at my store, so I
know I'm hot enough to be murdered and stuffed into your closet."

Jensen laughs and shakes his head. "Your logic, it has stunned me. It's bulletproof. You're right,
you're definitely hot enough to murder. Sadly, all of my closets are full. I haven't been to the dump
in a few weeks."

Jared steps closer. This whole flirting thing is nice, but it's like, verging on a little weird. Corpses
are definitely not conducive to orgasms. "I guess you'll just have to find something else to do
with me?" He puts on this cute face that he perfected when he was like, sixteen and crushing on
Rudy VenDenKamp, where he sort of looks up from under his eyelashes and bats them and
pouts his mouth and looks both hopeful and certain at the same time. Jensen's being very still
and Jared hopes he does something soon because this face, adorable as it may be, takes like, a
LOT of energy.

Jensen looks like he's searching for the right thing to say, the cute, sweet, funny little flirtatious
one-liner that everyone always hopes will come to them at just the right moment only it never
does except in romantic comedies, which Jared thinks is stupid. People should really be allowed
to carry cue cards for this kind of situation.

Jared glances at the digital clock on Jensen's oven over his shoulder and his cute face is gone.
He was supposed to call Mike like, five hours ago. Sure, Mike has already clocked him out and
probably complained for like, twenty minutes to Tom or Chad or whoeverthefuck was closing
tonight, but now Jared's going to have to deal with threatened stabbings in the morning and now
he's too irritated to focus on Jensen trying to kiss him and so he's even more pissed that Mike's
ruined what might have possibly been the greatest moment in the history of kissing.

Mike is a god damn ruiner and that really pisses Jared off.

"I forgot to call my boss."

Jensen looks like he's coming out of a daze. "Oh. Huh?"

"My shift ended like, five hours ago. I was supposed to call when I was done here so he could
clock me out. But"

"You're not done here." There's this little twitch to Jensen's mouth, an almost-smirk, like a good
boy trying to hide a bad boy side. It's stupidly sexy and it makes Jared want to kiss him all over
again.

"No, no I am not." Jared tries for cutely matter-of-fact; it's a success.

He wants to reach out and press his palms to Jensen's chest and just hold them there, feel if
mountain Adonis is real and solid and as scorchingly hot under his hands as he looks. But he
maintains some self-control and sticks his hands into his pockets. A little physical restraint never
hurt anyone.

"Do you wanna call him now?"

"Um, no, I'm pretty sure he just clocked me out when my shift ended anyway, even though I was
still on my way here then, and like, he'll just spend the whole time telling me how he's going to
stab me in the morning."

Jensen snorts. "He's going to stab you?"

"He has this weird power trip thing. He won't actually stab me, he just likes to say it." Jared bites
his lower lip. "He also wears the ugliest possible uniform voluntarily and spent his childhood
dreaming about running a Domino's. I really don't understand him." He clucks his tongue once.
"He's completely bald. It's possible there was head trauma."

Jensen glances down at the watch on his wrist. It's nice, a Nixon, probably wears it with a cuff
during the day. Not flashy, but not cheap. Again, Jared approves.

"Fuck!"

"What's wrong?"

"I have a breakfast meeting with an agent in the morning. In like, four hours technically."

"Who the hell in L.A. wakes up that early?"

"People who've made pacts with the devil." Jensen reaches into a little message unit next to his
phone and pulls out a piece of paper. He scribbles something down and passes it to Jared. It's a
business card with Jensen's personal number scrawled on the back. Jared chuckles. "Call me
tomorrow night? I can teach you how to play Madden?"

"Digitally rendered dudes in tight pants? That sounds like a plan."

Jensen walks Jared to the door, opens it for him and does this whole gentlemanly gesture like
he's sweeping Jared out the door. It's all sweetly archaic and they both laugh. Jared tucks the
business card into his pocket and Jensen passes him his pizza bag.

Jared looks into Jensen's eyes and they're like, gorgeous. They're this rich green that Jared has
to admit he's never seen occur in nature. They're bright and clear and he looks close enough that
he can see the ring of contact around the iris. He's pretty sure they're not colored and he curses
Jensen's impeccable genes. No one should get to have a body and face that good. It's really
unfair.

Jensen brushes a hair out of Jared's face and leans in close. Jared's pretty sure he's reading the
situation right and that he's about to get spectacularly tongue-fucked, but then Jensen just
presses this stupidly, ridiculously chaste kiss to the god damn mole on Jared's cheek, just under
his eye and Jared's so stunned he almost falls out of the doorway and nearly comes in his pants.

Jensen pushes the door closed as Jared walks out, his face pressed in the opening. "Use that
card, Jared, okay?"

Jared smiles. "I will. I, uh swear on the lone star."

They both laugh.

Jared has to beat off in the car before he can even function enough to drive.

It is very unbecoming.

At least he's pretty sure Jensen's interested in buttsex. That's definitely a win.

The hundred dollar tip Jensen signed on the receipt is a total bonus.

Part 2


Jared wakes up bright and early in the morning and his audition-slash-test shoot with Clinique
goes well. The photographer says he looks stunning through the lens, which Jared doesn't really
doubt, but it's still nice to hear, and the lighting girl says her job has never been easier. Luckily, all
that pizza he ate yesterday didn't make him break out. The pineapple must help to balance his
pH.

They have him do a few test lines, in case they decide to go with more than a print campaign and
he definitely nails them. The casting agent, Debbie, is super sweet and pokes Jared's dimple
when she says goodbye. It's um, well it's kind of creepy, but at least she doesn't grab his ass.
That happens a lot.

He heads home, satisfied with a job well done. His career is definitely on the up and up.

Jared's studio apartment is really, really small. He likes it normally; his momma says it's "cozy"
and it's in Studio City which he thought was, like, really clever when he moved in two years ago,
but now it just irritates him because he doesn't have enough closet space and he's running out of
places to stash his shoes. It is SO frustrating. You can't just leave Pradas lying around, hoodlums
will steal them.

But he loves it anyway. The walls are this very soothing beige and his curtains are maroon and all
rich and nice because he knows how important it is to splurge on these kinds of things. He's got a
mini-fridge and a hot plate, but he really only eats raw foods at home anyway. It's so cleansing.
His bed is not nearly big enough, but only a full would fit into the corner, so he makes do. It really
just means he tries to sleep with guys at their places instead of his.

He doesn't like spooge and foreign sweat on his sheets anyway. It's actually pretty gross.

He could afford a bigger place; he makes pretty good money and all, but he'd have to stop seeing
at least one of his specialists and he just can't commit to cutting any of them loose. His herbalist
would definitely call his dermatologist and his dermatologist would probably call his aesthetician
and his aesthetician would get a hold of his chiropractor. L.A. is really a very small town. It would
be a total mess.

When he gets home, he checks the voicemail on his cell. There's a message from his agent and
one from his mom that he'll have to return ASAP. The last message is like, the best thing he's
ever heard. It's Jensen and he sounds all sultry and like there's laughter in his voice. Jared would
almost call it musical.

"Hey, Jared, it's Jensen. Just calling to make sure you got home okay last night. You seemed a
little high-strung. I hope your boss didn't stab you or anything. Gimme a call later. I have a serious
need to kick your ass at Madden."

Jared's really glad he thought to write his number down on the pizza box in the fridge. It was a
seriously genius move. No one can resist that sort of subtle forwardness. It's totally appealing. He
really can't blame Jensen for falling for it.

He calls his mom back first because seeming overeager is bad form. She tells him all about some
sorority thing Megan's involved in and he really doubts the validity of the urgent code she tacked
onto the message.

He showers and gets dressed in his cutest work outfit: the navy blue polo with dark jeans, frayed
at the knees and black Chucks. It's a subtle change from yesterday, but one he thinks does
wonders for the green in his eyes.

He calls Jensen on the way to work. Ventura is a mess and the commute takes like, three times
as long as it normally would. Mike will probably threaten to castrate him when he walks in late,
but whatever, it's totally worth it because Jensen is like, the best conversationalist EVER. He
makes all these stupid jokes, but because he's all self-deprecating about it, it's adorable and not
cheesy. He talks about his breakfast meeting and Jared hums sympathetically when Jensen says
the girl he met with was stupider than a post. Jared understands having to deal with stupid
people. He works with Chad.

Jared doesn't even have to put on his "Sucky Commutes" playlist because Jensen keeps him
laughing and smiling all the way to the parking lot of the store. It's really pretty awesome and
Jared gets preemptively excited about seeing Jensen again. He's also very sad about having to
hang up.

"Jensen, I gotta go. I have to go in and accept my castration."

Jensen laughs. It's completely amazing. "Yeah, alright. Good luck with that, man."

"Thanks."

"You gonna head over here after work so I can whoop you at Madden?"

Jared takes a deep breath and pauses. He tries to reign in his excitement because, again,
overeager-ness does not look good on him. Or anybody for that matter. "I'll try. I work 'til close
again though."

"It's cool, Jay, I'll be up."

Jared bites his lower lip. He hates when people shorten his name. Jared is a strong name and it
sounds professional. His parents clearly gave it to him for a reason. But when Jensen says it, it
sounds all perfect and like, melodic and Jared thinks he'll let him get away with it. Maybe a lot. "I'll
try, really, I swear."

Jensen laughs again and Jared can practically feel the heat from his skin and see the glow of his
smile. It's ridiculous since they're on the phone, but he thinks it must be a testament to Jensen's
innate hotness. USC or UCLA or one of those schools should really do a study. "Don't get in too
much trouble without me."

And oh god, just like that Jared's hard and it's so ridiculous because all Jensen did is talk. Into a
PHONE, no less, but it's all smoky and the way Jensen says "without me" is totally sex-godly.

"I'll save the troublemaking for after work." Jared smiles because that's totally one of those
double-entendre thingies and he really likes those. They make him feel smart and sexy at the
same time, which is completely awesome. He can already feel Jensen's mouth around his dick.

"Good." and then click Jensen's gone. Jared's going to be hard all day. Stupid un-hygienic
Dominos bathroom. Sometimes Jared really wishes he worked in an office where he could pull
his dick out without worrying about catching, like, syphilis or hepatitis C or whatever.

But then he'd be a boring guy who worked in an office. Sure, he looks fantastic in slacks and crisp
white button-downs, but sometimes, and Jared knows this is hard to believe and it took him a
very, very long time to learn, but sometimes, the outfit isn't everything.

Plus, if he worked in an office, nice as it would be to have an STD-free bathroom, he'd have
never met Jensen. And he's pretty sure that would be, like, tragic.

Mike is in top form when Jared walks in, pacing back and forth across the tiny alcove of space
where customers stand around on the rare occasion they pick up their own pizza.

"Jared, this is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE! First, you dick around and forget to call me last
night and now you're thirty minutes late. Do you even CARE about your job?"

Jared refrains from rolling his eyes, but just barely. Mike's not yelling, but he's talking REALLY
LOUDLY and it is totally harshing on Jared's good morning. Jared is feeling way too good about
the Clinique meeting to let it get to him though, so he listens to Mike's graphic description of
castrating Jared in his sleep and thinks about what he's going to wear to Jensen's later.

This is a crucial decision. If he goes for anything more than casual, it'll look like he's trying too
hard or that he's trying to drag Jensen out of his hobbit hole and that's not cool at all. He thinks
he'll go for jeans again, simple, with his leather flip-flops and a fitted t-shirt. Nothing too obscenely
tight, he's not going to a club or anything, but enough to hint at all the upper-body training he's
been doing. His personal trainer says that his obliques are PERFECT. Thinking about it makes
Jared smile and by the time he's done, Mike's not talking anymore.

It was a really well-timed thought.

Jared puts on his best apologetic face, the one he practiced for that herpes commercial he did a
few months back. "I am SO sorry, Mike, really. Last night, I just completely forgot to call you.
Traffic was so bad! And I just let my mind wander. And traffic was insane this morning too. Have
you seen Ventura?"

Mike huffs and presses his palms into the counter. The scowl on his face is totally going to lead to
premature wrinkling, not that Jared will point that out or anything. "You need to learn to leave
earlier if there's traffic on your commute."

Mike's right of course and Jared's usually pretty good about it, but it is SO HARD some mornings.
He really hates fucking up his beauty rest. Sleep deprivation is so bad for your skin tone. He
nods, pulls the face again and says, "I am so sorry that I've fucked up. I am learning from my
mistakes as we speak. It won't happen again, Mike, I swear."

Mike cracks a little smile and Jared thinks he might actually have been really attractive in another
life. Before the whole bald thing at least. "Yeah, alright, but get your ass in the back and help
Chad. Tom's out running deliveries and someone at the east end of Sunset just ordered fifteen
pizzas."

Ugh. Jared hates actually touching the food. It's really gross and he has to wear a hairnet
because sometimes he just wants to feel how soft his ends are and Mike gets mad and says he's
going to get hair in the food, which is so not true. Jared is NOT balding.

Chad elbows him in the ribs when he takes his spot next to him at the prep station, hairnet neatly
in place and apron strings tied in a bow. He doesn't want to ruin his outfit this early in his shift or
ever, actually. The rib thing is like, Chad's way of saying, "Hi, I'm an ass, but I hope that you'll
touch my balls someday, even though you are way out of my league," which Jared appreciates
for the ego boost, but yuck, he is NEVER getting near Chad's balls. Jared's pretty sure he has
VD. One of the really gross ones like warts or herpes. There might be open wounds down there
and Jared doesn't want to find out for sure.

"So how was the pretty boy TV star last night?"

Jared's confused. He was absorbed in making the supreme pizza in front of him. When he thinks
about the toppings as accessories and the pizza as a very round Kate Moss, the work seems to
go much faster.

"What?"

"Your delivery on Doheny? That TV guy?"

Oh, Jensen. Of course Chad asks. He is SO nosey. "He was nice and gave me a huge tip. Just a
regular delivery." Except for that whole playing video games and drinking beer and getting mole-
kissed thing. That part wasn't entirely regular.

"Is he as big a bitch as he looks like on TV?"

Jared scowls and then remembers Mike's wrinkles and relaxes his face into a regular one of
disgust. "He was very butch, Chad, GOD. Don't you know anything about tact?" Tact is how you
tell someone that their new haircut looks really ugly, but without making them cry. Jared's really
good at tact. Sometimes people thank him for it.

Chad takes a delivery after twenty minutes and Jared's really grateful. Chad's okay sometimes, in
really small doses, preferably when Jared's really high or drunk. Sometimes Chad's even
charming when Jared's under the influence. Drugs are like magic. Jared thinks they should
definitely be legalized. Possibly taxed and sold in 7-11s. Or he at least lobbies for the
decriminalization of pot. A charge for possession would not look good on his rsum, even if
sometimes court appearances do wonders for failing careers.

Now Jared can dress up his pizza in peace. Kate Moss turned out pretty nice and now he's
making a Naomi Campbell Hawaiian. He pops a piece of pineapple in his mouth and thinks about
Jensen, the way his mouth would've tasted like pineapple and beer if Jared had actually gotten to
kiss him.

Tonight is going to be so awesome.

The rest of the day is long and boring. He makes pizzas forever while Tom and Chad take all the
deliveries and then thirty minutes before his shift ends, Mike tosses a delivery slip at him. It's at
the Doheny Towers and he cannot help the giddy way his face twists up into a smile.

Mike smirks and slugs him in the shoulder. It kind of hurts, but he ignores it. "Special request for
you from Iron Man."

The order's for a Hawaiian and "whatever you want," so he sticks a Kate Moss supreme in the
bag too. The vegetables totally balance the meat and cheese, at least enough to quiet his guilt
about not quitting pizza as planned.

He stayed up late last night making a "Mountain Adonis" playlist and it's totally fulfilling hearing it
through his speakers on the way to Jensen's. It was really hard choosing songs. "Come Around
More Alabama" makes him especially happy, but he feels guilty listening to an ex on his new
potential-boyfriend's playlist, but whatever, it's a good song anyway and it's like, the only country
Jared will listen to. He just doesn't get the barbecue stain on a white t-shirt thing. Even if Tim
McGraw has a really nice ass.

Plus, Steve was like, really sweet and funny and from Pasadena. He helped Jared get rid of his
accent and took him shopping at all these cute little vintage shops. It was fun. And the break-up
was totally amicable. Steve even sent him a plant and thanked him for being sweet. He still puts
him on the list for shows when he's in town, which is great. Some of his fans are SO cute.

The drive is shitty, again, but Jared is in WAY too good of a mood to let it bother him. He sings
along cheerfully to "The Hook Up". In the Zone really didn't get the respect it deserved.

He calls the store from the lobby of the building and tells Chad to tell Mike to go ahead and clock
him out. Chad says something about "Iron Man and his iron hard-on". Jared sighs. His life is so
hard sometimes.

The concierge calls him Mr. Padalecki, which makes him feel very adult. He also appreciates it
because it means that Jensen told him who Jared was. Jared knows this is a very good sign. He
takes his time through the lobby and in the elevator this time, noting the marble floors and gold
detailing. It's subtle though, not trashy. Jensen obviously has fabulous taste.

Jared knocks on Jensen's door and doesn't even bother checking himself out first. He is confident
that even though he couldn't go home to change, he still looks not only presentable, but hot.

He hopes Jensen notices how bright his eyes look.

Jensen answers the door in red basketball shorts and a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt. He's shaved since
yesterday, but his jaw is flecked with golden stubble and he looks softly rugged. Jared doesn't
understand how he can be handsome and beautiful, pretty and soft and manly and hard at the
same time. It's like he's got magical hotness properties that Jared could only dream of having.

Jared's good-looking of course, wildly attractive even, but he has to choose between being
beautiful and being handsome then dress and groom accordingly.

Jensen just is all those things. It's like, completely breathtaking.

Jensen claps him on the shoulder and grabs the pizzas from his hands. "Thought you'd never get
here, dude. I am starving."

Jared smiles and steps into the apartment. His mountain Adonis is like, completely perfect. If
Jared were less restrained, he'd probably start babbling loudly about how beautiful Jensen is and
how much Jared really wants to get on his knees and suck him deaf, dumb, and blind. But he is
both restrained and eloquent, so instead he laughs. "You should've ordered earlier. I'da just
skipped out on the end of the day."

Jared watches as Jensen bites into a slice of his Hawaiian and the palest flush lights his cheeks.
Jared grabs two beers out of the fridge and passes one to Jensen. Jensen chews slowly and
swallows. "I, uh, did call. Earlier." He takes a drink of beer and carries his plate of pizza over to
the couch.

Jared makes his own plate and joins him. "When?"

"Around two. Some guy named Chad showed up."

"Oh god, sorry you had to deal with him." Ugh, poor Jensen. "You don't have Chad immunity. It
must have been awful."

"He's really, really weird. I think you guys should keep him in the store."

"I'll tell Mike. Usually Tom or I get sent to the nicer places. We keep Chad for dangerous
deliveries." Jared takes a big bite of his pizza. It's delicious. He has a real talent for vegetable
distribution.

"Tom came when I called at six." Jensen's really flushing now; it's like, super attractive. It makes
his freckles pop bright across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He looks healthy, like he
spends lots of time climbing things and breathing mountain air. He ducks his head bashfully. It's
ridiculously sweet and Jared wants to reach over and run his fingers over Jensen's cheeks. He
sits on his hand to stop himself. Jensen smiles and drags his blindingly white teeth over his
bottom lip. "It didn't occur to me to ask for you."

Jared raises an eyebrow and stares at him. He makes a face that his acting coach called
"incredulous". "It didn't occur to you?"

Jensen closes his eyes and his gold-tipped eyelashes fan over his cheeks. He looks positively
angelic and Jared feels heat pooling in his belly. "Maybe I was a little embarrassed?"

Jared's face splits into a wide grin. His smile is really one of his best features; casting agents tell
him so all the time. He has dimples which women find very appealing; it's really the reason he
gets so many print ads. "Embarrassed?" Jared sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and chews on
it around a smile. This face, his acting coach called "coy," but Jared's not really acting. "Why?"

Jensen clucks his tongue and shakes his head. "I think I hate you a little bit." He's bright red and
he takes a bite of pizza to stall, swallows a long drink of beer. "Because we're supposed to do
that whole wait three days thing, y'know?" Jensen laughs and takes another drink of beer. "Or
at least wait an entire twenty-four hours."

Jared shifts up in his seat, turns so that he's facing Jensen. He knows his smile has stretched
well into the range of ridiculously huge, but he really can't help it. Jensen is like, the single cutest
thing on the entire planet. He's all perfect, which is totally not a word that Jared uses lightly.
Perfection is supposed to be unattainable; it is supposed to be the goal for which all people strive,
but Jensen Jensen is perfect. And so, okay, maybe Jared's known him for like, a day, but
whatever.

Jared reaches out and presses the fingertip of his index finger under Jensen's chin and tilts his
face so they're eye-to-eye. He bites his lip and smiles. "Well, I have never been one for waiting."

Jensen licks his lips really, really slowly. His tongue is wet and pink and it's like, completely
obscene. Not in the, like, dude-in-a-trench-coat-flashing-you-on-Cienega way, but in the really
sexy Blueboy way.

Then he's leaning forward and pressing his lips to Jared's and, oh man, it is so awesome that
Jared doesn't know what to do with himself. Jensen's lips are so soft and they taste like
strawberry chapstick and he's, like, really good at kissing. He doesn't slobber and he keeps biting
softly at Jared's bottom lip and Jared's worried that he's really sucking because he's so distracted
by how good Jensen is at this.

He focuses. He's in it to win it and that means being at least as impressive at this as Jensen is,
so he licks into Jensen's mouth, soft little passes of his tongue, almost light enough to tickle and
Jensen's hands find their way into Jared's hair and he moans into Jared's mouth. Score. Jensen's
tongue licks back, brushing against Jared's, these little flicks that Jared has no problem imagining
against the head of his cock. Now he's moaning and Jensen's pushing him back onto the couch
and rubbing his fingers against the nape of Jared's neck and, like, Jared's pretty sure he's going
to come, right then and there, just from kissing.

Jensen is that good.

Jensen pulls away, panting, which is completely unfair because he's all flushed and warm and
even his heavy breathing is sexy. Jared has to close his eyes for a second and breathe. He's
never been this turned on in his entire life and they haven't even gotten to the dirty parts yet.

Jensen settles into the couch and rubs his hands over his thighs. He offers Jared his hand and
pulls him up to sitting. "You wanna play some Madden?"

Jared stifles the high-pitched whine that threatens to break free from his throat. "Um, sure?"

It turns out Jared is really good at being a digitally rendered guy in tight pants. Or, at the very
least, better than he was at being a digitally rendered guy on a skateboard.

It's a good thing because Jensen can't mock him for being poorly equipped with what he deems
to be a basic male skill, but it also sucks because there are FAR too many inches between them
on the couch now that Jensen doesn't have to teach Jared to use the controls.

He briefly considers pretending he doesn't know how to kick a field goal, but decides against it.
Playing dumb is so Jessica Simpson and she's barely even famous now.

They play Madden for like, two hours and eat ALL of the pizza and drink a few more beers and
Jared is definitely going to have to go to the gym for like at least three hours tomorrow. He's
going to get a huge paunch and no one will ever want to see him naked again. And like, he
REALLY wants Jensen to want to see him naked. Like, soon.

They ditch the game and talk about work a little bit. Jensen asks about Jared's aspirations as an
actor, which is really sweet.

"I don't want to sound like an ass," Jared says tapping his half-empty beer bottle against his knee,
"and, like, I appreciate the very serious business of acting and all, but I just want to work, y'know?
I don't dream about winning Oscars or anything." Jensen smiles and it makes Jared stutter for a
second. "I just want to be in stuff that people like, stuff that makes 'em feel. Happy or sad,
whatever."

Jensen pulls his legs up on the couch and sits cross-legged facing Jared, wraps his hands
around his beer bottle and rests it on his legs. "So you don't think it's stupid that I play a
superhero?"

Jared laughs and it's a real laugh, this little bark of a sound. "Nah, man, I think it's awesome." He
takes a deep breath. "This sounds stupid, but I think the world needs superheroes. People are
afraid afraid of everything. Random violence and, like, targeted violence. It's everywhere and
it's scary. Superheroes, and characters like Buffy--they give people this weird sort of
metaphorical hope." Jared is suddenly very embarrassed. He's never mentioned this theory out
loud and Jensen looks so interested in him, like he really cares about what Jared's saying. He
feels his face go red. "Sorry, there's not a lot to do when you're making deliveries. Sometimes
ridiculous theories just develop on their own."

"No, no, you're totally right. It's like how the Superman comics developed out of the oppression of
immigrants and his creators' sense of, you know, isolation and outsider-ness. And why the X-Men
and Justice League fight terrorists. Pop culture mirrors the fears of the people who consume it."

Jared nods. People don't usually talk to him like this, especially the guys he makes out with. Most
of the time they talk about shopping and sex and sometimes whatever was on Oprah, but no one
asks him questions like this, no one makes him feel smart or insightful. Not ever. Jensen is
maybe even more perfect than Jared thought.

Jensen runs his thumb over Jared's bottom lip and it's all sweet and tender. "What're you thinking
about?"

"About how you're perfect." Jared actually slaps his hand over his mouth and bites down on his
finger. Oh god, oh god. Jensen is fucking with Jared's filters and it is utterly unacceptable.

Jensen smiles, huge and bright and Jared can practically feel him waiting to laugh. He does, but
it's sweet and warm and it doesn't feel like he's laughing AT Jared. "Perfect, huh?"

Jared sinks into the couch and lays his forearm over his eyes. "It's a possibility. A likelihood
even." He sighs. "It's really pretty ridiculous actually."

Jared feels Jensen shift and scoot closer. He presses all along Jared's side, thigh to thigh, arm to
arm. Jensen's warm and his skin is really soft against Jared's. Jared can feel Jensen's thigh
tighten and twitch against him.

"You haven't known me very long. I'm anything but perfect." Jensen's face is like, right next to
Jared's. Jared can almost feel Jensen's lips about to brush his jaw, warm breath ghosting against
his throat.

Jared swallows hard. Jensen is wrong. Jensen is perfect and Jared's fighting every urge in his
body telling him to explain that to him.

Jensen's just breathing next to him, slow even breaths.

Maybe Jensen's right, maybe Jared doesn't know him well enough, maybe he isn't perfect, but
right now, Jared doesn't even think it's possible.

Jensen presses his lips to Jared's cheek, more touch than kiss, mouths down his jaw and throat.
Jared moans and feels Jensen smile against his skin. "Not perfect," he sucks on Jared's throat,
"but pretty good at this."

Jared is like, completely shocked at how quickly they end up on the floor, squished in the space
between the couch and the coffee table, Jensen solid and heavy and amazing on top of him.
Jensen's kissing the breath out of him, fingers tangled in Jared's hair and Jared's just hanging on,
fingers digging into Jensen's tight hips, thumbs grazing over the sharp cuts across his abs.
Jensen's body is better than Jared's, stronger, harder. He fits between Jared's thighs, against his
chest, hands and arms and mouth moving against Jared's skin.

Jared is painfully hard. It feels like he's been hard for days, strung out, denied orgasms, tortured,
brought to the edge and left to hang a hundred times over.

Jensen is like, really good at this kissing thing. Plus he's grinding down against Jared's cock and
Jared can feel how hard he is, the thick line of his dick pressing against Jared's thigh through
basketball shorts and jeans. It's like, pretty much the most fucking awesome thing Jared has ever
felt and they're not even naked yet.

"Wait, wait, hang on." Jensen's panting and staring down into Jared's face, one hand on Jared's
hip, the other cradling his head from the carpet. "We gotta."

Jared runs the back of his fingers down Jensen's jaw, stubble scratching at his knuckles. "What?
We gotta what?" Jared really hopes the next words out of Jensen's mouth are "get naked"
because if Jensen feels this good against Jared with clothes, holy Christ, it's got to be like 9,000
times better without them.

"We gotta... we have to... slow down."

Jared's sort of thrown off. Like, he knows what all of those words mean, but they're in this order
that he can't understand. He feels like he's back in tenth grade Spanish and learning the
difference between "nuevo carro" and "carro nuevo". Which he still doesn't get entirely. A car's
only new if you're the first person to drive it, like, ever. A used car is never new, even if it's new to
you. Like when he was sixteen his mom bought him this 1984 Fiero and kept calling it his "new
baby" and it was horrifying. He appreciated the sentiment or whatever, and was totally grateful
that it wasn't a Pinto or something MORE awful, but it wasn't new. At all. It was old. And smelled
like the sauna at his gym. He was actually pretty glad when the engine block cracked. Or a
gasket blew. Some mostly irreparable car thing.

Jensen pulls him up off the floor and, like, politely straightens Jared's shirt and brushes the lint off
of it and combs his hair back off of his face with his fingers. Jared wraps his fingers around
Jensen's wrists and holds his hands together between their bodies. "Dude, what's up?" He leans
forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Jensen's mouth. He thinks it might be the wrong
moment for it, but he can't resist. Jensen's mouth is like, literally irresistible. "You okay?"

Jensen nods, just this side of overenthusiastically. "Yeah, man, just," he laughs a little, soft and
low, "don't wanna rush it too much, right?"

Jared doesn't really think they were rushing per se. They were traveling along at a healthy clip,
straight toward sloppy, earth-shaking blowjobs and post-coital glow snuggling. He really can't see
anything wrong with that, but Jensen tugs on his wrists and pulls him down on the couch and he
settles close to him, thighs and shoulders touching.

Jensen hands him a controller. "Madden?"

Jared sighs. Jensen is lucky he's perfect, Jared doesn't usually tolerate prudes.

Part 3

The thing is, Jared doesn't have a lot of friends. Well, of course he has friends, tons of them.
They go out to clubs and bars and get drunk and have a good time. His girlfriends and he go
shopping all the time. But when it comes to the really important thingsnot that Melrose and the
Beverly Center and Micky's and Rage aren't totally importantKristen and Allison and Jeff and
Jason and even Sandy aren't particularly helpful. Like, they totally didn't understand why he broke
up with James over the whole PDA incident or how he can have a crush on Pete Wentz but still
think he's a complete ass. They don't understand Jared's deep and complex levels and it's totally
frustrating. So he has friends, but not like, friends.

It's a really important distinction.

This is why he finds himself talking to Tom as they clean up the kitchen late on Sunday night.
He's sweeping up cornmeal and crusty cheese and wilted vegetables as Tom scrubs down the
counters and double-checks the ovens. This part of the job is ridiculously stupid and boring and
gross and Jared really doesn't understand why they don't hire a night crew or a maid or
something.

Jensen's out of town for the next few days and aside from an awkwardly sweet goodbye kiss that
smushed Jared's nose into Jensen's cheek and a short phone call as Jensen got on the plane
this morning, it's been radio silence in Padackles-villethat's what Jared told Megan to name her
new neighborhood in that video game when he talked to her last night. She's probably still
laughing, but Jared thinks it's really cute. Hyphenation is SO two years agoand Jared is like,
distressed.

He doesn't mean to start babbling at Tom, but he has all of these feelings and they're all just
sitting right there, up on top of his heart or somewhere in his throat or something and he opens
his mouth to ask Tom if he's going to clean the bathroom but Jensen's name comes out instead.
It's really embarrassing. Tom doesn't normally say much and when they first met, Jared thought
he might be a little um, special needs, but he looks really confused. Like, even for Tom. But then
his face twists into a little smile.

Tom drops his rag onto the counter and leans back against the refrigerating unit door. "I knew
there was something going on with you and that Ackles guy."

Jared's jaw drops a little in surprise, but he recovers with a cough. "Um, what?" He really didn't
peg Tom as the perceptive type.

"He called three times in one day to order Hawaiians. And like, I know they're good and all, but
not THAT good." Tom smirks. "But you must be."

Jared's jaw really drops then and he can't even pretend it isn't in shock. "Tom!" Jared clucks his
tongue and he's frightened momentarily by how much he sounds like his mother. "I only went up
there ONCE."

"Yeah, but he asked about you when I delivered. I didn't really think about it then," he taps his
chin and Jared is sort of scared by the thought of Tom thinking that hard, "but, huh, I really
should've. He was asking all about your shifts and stuff." Tom chews on his lower lip and smiles.
"So I told him just to ask for you. Make it easier and all. I thought HE was into YOU. Not the other
way around."

"I didn't say I was into him."

"No, you just blurted his name out like he was on his knees with your dick in his mouth."

Jared gasps and slaps his hand over his mouth. "TOM." Jared opens and closes his mouth a
dozen or so times trying to find some eloquent way to admonish Tom for being like, VULGAR, but
there just aren't any words there to find. He sweeps for a second, frowning at the smug smirk on
Tom's face. "There's nothing going on."

"So what's the deal, did he get you out of your skivvies and then not call?" Tom taps his fingers
on the countertop and purses his lips, waiting for an answer.

Jared doesn't really appreciate the insinuation that he's easy or slutty or useable or whatever.
"No."

Tom pulls the trash out of the lobby can and ties the bag in a knot, tosses it toward the door and
walks over to put the can back where it belongs. He leans his forearms against the counter and
looks across at Jared. "Then what's the deal?"

"I told you, there IS no deal. I delivered pizza to his apartment, that's it."

"Whatever. That's the same bullshit I pulled when I started fucking Mike." Jared has to swallow a
gag; the thought of Mike naked Ugh, it's so GROSS. He doesn't know how Tom does it. Like,
Mike's not a bad looking guy or whatever, but he's the manager at a Dominos. His come probably
tastes like pepperoni or parmesan or something. "Dude, even CHAD knows something's going on
with you and Ackles. Just give it up already."

Jared clucks his tongue and rolls his eyes, leans heavily on the broom. "We hung out or whatever
and had fun and like, were getting pretty close to the fun naked stuff and then he backed off and
we played more video games." Jared takes a deep breath. He doesn't mean to babble, but Tom
has like a really honest, open face and it looks like he might actually care what Jared's babbling
about. "And now he's out of town and I don't really know what to think, you know?"

Tom nods, considering and Jared kind of wants to hug him for not laughing or being an asshole,
but he's sort of afraid of his hands. They probably have Mike's cock germs. "You think he's not
really interested, right?"

Jared chews on his bottom lip for a minute. Jensen sure had felt interested, but Tom's right.
"Yeah, I guess. I'm worried he's like, not into the guy on guy thing. Or maybe he's repressed
about it or like, he's weird or something. Or he's just less interested in ME than he thought." Jared
takes a deep breath. Dealing with emotions is exhausting.

"All possibilities. But have you considered that maybe he wants to take things slow because he's
more interested than you think he is? 'Cause he doesn't want to fuck it up. I mean, when Mike
and I"

Jared waves his in front of Tom's face. "No, no, no more details about you and Mike. Glad you
found love and all, don't want to hear about it." Tom nods and rolls his eyes. "But yeah, okay,
maybe you have a point. Maybe." Tom opens his mouth to gloat, but Jared grunts, "Nuh uh!
Possible, but not like, likely."

This is a weird thing for Jared. He's normally confident and sure, certain that he has the things
that other people look for in like, a mate or whatever, but Jensen's got him all topsy turvy and
very confused about the situation, but Tom's maybe right. Maybe.

He thanks Tom for listening as they lock up. Jared's really got to learn to stop underestimating
people. He knows they can't all be as well-rounded as he is, but they really can surprise you.
+++


The green display on his alarm clock says 3:56 am when Jared's cell phone rings and jerks him
out of his beauty rest. He's supremely irritated because he was just getting to the good part of this
dream with JC Chasez where they were part of a spy team. It was pretty awesome, but when
Gwen starts singing about a "sweet escape" JC disappears and Jared panics. That's Jensen's
ring.

He takes a long breath, rubs the sleep out of his eyes and settles up against his pillows. He
centers and focuses, imagines himself as funny, charming, and dashingly handsome. It's
important to have the entire package when it comes to the power of positive thinking, even if
Jensen can't see how cute he looks in his t-shirt and boxers. He clicks open the phone and puts it
to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jay, how you doin'?" Jensen's voice is soft and smoky; it sounds like he's sleepy and warm,
safe in some bed somewhere.

"Um, I'm okay. You?"

"Good. Little bit drunk, didn't even realize what time it was there. I'm sorry, man, I should let you
sleep." Jared can totally see the way Jensen's probably rubbing his temples and staring down at
his thighs, bashful, feeling stupid for calling.

"Nah, man, it's okay. I'm glad you got there safe. How was the flight? And the meeting?"

"Stupid. Long. I don't even care, really. I don't want this part anyway, my agent just said it was
poor form or something not to show for the reading."

Jared laughs softly. "I know how that goes, man. Fuck it."

Jensen laughs. He's definitely drunk, but not sloppy, just in that hazy, warm part of drunk that
Jared really likes. "Been thinkin' about you." He pauses and Jared's worried the call got dropped,
but Jensen comes back lower, sweeter. "A lot."

Jared's breath catches in his throat. "Yeah? What about me?" Jared can't cold back the smile that
splits his face and colors his voice. It's a little bit embarrassing that Jensen has so much control
over him, but it's really too late to start worrying about that now.

Jensen yawns, his words pitched with the end of it. "'Bout the way you smell, way your skin feels,
way you taste" Jensen breathes for a second and Jared wants to say something. Like,
anything, but he can't come up with something that will fill the space. Jensen's voice is lower,
dirtier and he groans before he talks. "Thinkin' 'bout how you kissed me, how hard you were."

Jared makes this really undignified whimpery noise in the back of his throat. He can feel his dick
swelling in his shorts and he sinks deeper into his pillows. "Jensen." It's barely a whisper and he's
momentarily pissed at how orally retarded Jensen makes him. It's fucking ridiculous.

"Jay, I'm sorry. 'Bout the other night? I just."

"It's doesn't matter, man, whatev"

"It does matter. I didn't mean. I wasn't trying to be. I'm sorry." It comes out softly and Jared
worries that their phones are going to dump them any second. Jensen laughs this choked, dark
laugh that's like, as close to oozing sex as a laugh can be. Shoulda got you naked while I had the
chance."

"More chances," Jared blurts and smacks his palm against his forehead. "I mean, there's time,
right? More chances?"

"Hope so." Jensen takes a long breath. "Fuck, Jay, the things I wanna do to you, the things I'm
thinking about doing to you right now? Never wanted anybody, not ANYBODY, this much."

Jared closes his eyes and grips his thigh, digs his nails into the tight muscle, bites back a groan.
"Yeah? Thought you weren't interested anymore after you played with digitally rendered dudes
instead of fucking me."

Jensen groans. "Fuck, Jay, forget about it. I was being a moron. I'm sorry."

"'S alright, you're just gonna have to make it up to me, right?"

Jared can practically hear Jensen smiling. "Hell yeah. Gotta learn from my mistakes. Shoulda
made you come then, shoulda slid down and sucked you off right there on the floor, shoulda
made you scream my name 'til your throat was raw."

"Fuck, Jensen." Jared rubs his hand over his belly, rests it just below his navel. "Jen, are you..."
Jared practically pants. "Are you touching yourself?"

Jensen chuckles low in his throat. "Had my dick in my hand since you said hello. Your fuckin'
voice, man, even your fuckin' voice makes me hard."

Jared's chewing on his lip so hard, he's pretty sure it's going to draw blood. Jensen's saying all of
this STUFF and it's fucking... insanely hot and like, Jensen's words and voice, all smoky and
smooth, are royally messing with Jared's mind. Jensen's managed to catch him completely
unguarded in the middle of the night and it's taking every bit of self-restraint he's got to keep from
babbling completely ridiculous shit in Jensen's ear or coming all over himself like a thirteen-year-
old.

"God, Jensen, you don't even know. Fuck my voice. Your voice, Jesus." Jared sounds genuinely
awed and he's sort of embarrassed at it, embarrassed at the way Jensen can apparently do this
to him.

"God, Jay, just wanna wanna lay you out and kiss you all over, suck on your neck and your
chest and, fuck, man, you even have a clue how fucking perfect you'd look all marked up from my
teeth? From my mouth?"

Jared wants to give his fair share here, wants to tell Jensen how bad he wants to suck him nine
ways from Sunday, make him come more than any human should come, ride him like a god
damn thoroughbred, but all of the oxygen is suddenly gone from the room and his mouth is
stupidly dry and Jared's never been good at the phone sex thing anyway. He always gets
distracted by like, the color of the sheets and describing what he's wearing and like, if his hair
looks okay. It's very taxing.

But apparently, Jensen's not really looking for Jared to be an active participant or else his
definition of active is like, "grunts and groans appropriately" since that's all Jared can really do.

"Swear to god, Jay, swear on the lone star," he chuckles, "I don't know what I was thinking,
letting you leave like that. Took every ounce of my will-power not to strip you down and suck you
dry. Hell, I'da settled for humping your leg like a god damn dog." Jensen laughs and Jared groans
again. He's not even sure when his hand wrapped around his cock, but it's sticky and slick and
stroking roughly as Jensen talks.

"Gonna get you over soon as I get back, Jay, gonnafuckgonna strip you real slow, kiss you
head to toe, make you come without even touching your dick."

"Fuck, Jensen, fuck." Jared's pretty sure his hand has a mind of its own, stroking harder, rougher,
faster. "Want you so fucking bad, I can taste you."

"Then I'm gonna do it again, Jay, make you come with my mouth wrapped tight around your cock,
suck you 'til you scream."

"You gonna fuck me, Jen?" Jared pants, strokes tight at the head of his cock. "You gonna bend
me over and fuck me?"

"Fuck yes. Want your legs wrapped around my waist, want you ridin' me. Wanna fuck you in
every room in my place, every god damn surface, vertical or horizontal."

"Oh fuck, Jen," Jared growls, pulls harder on his cock, "gonna." It's completely breathless, Jared's
eyes screwed shut, teeth tearing into his bottom lip.

"Come on, Jay, come for me. Want you to come."

And Jared does, just like that, all over his favorite t-shirt, his fist, his belly, some even gets on the
sheets, but he just keeps stroking through it, groaning and panting into the phone.

"Jen, come on, you gonna come? You gonna come for me?"

Jensen groans, grunts out Jared's name and Jared can see him, stretched out on his hotel bed,
heels digging into the mattress, fisting his perfect cock, head thrown back against the pillows, lips
red and wet from biting them, coming all over himself, all over the 600 thread-count sheets,
coming for Jared.

Jared's cock twitches feebly in his fingers. He already feels like he could come again. Jensen is
clearly some sort of human Viagra.

"Jay?" Jensen's voice is shot, thready and broken.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna pick me up from the airport on Tuesday?"

Jared smiles. Or, he twists his face into what he hopes is a smile, but he's not entirely sure that
any of the muscles in his body are following his brain's orders at the moment. "Ab. So. Fucking.
Lutely."

"I'll call you from the airport. Night."

Jared snaps his phone shut and passes out. He'll regret it in the morning when he sees his
wrecked sheets, but he'll get over it. He has a feeling he and Jensen will be ruining another set
on Tuesday.
+++


Jared likes the airport. He knows it's cheesy, but watching those little reunions is really awesome.
People are so happy to see each other, all hugging and smiling and kissing and saying "I missed
you" and "I loved you." People are so sublimely ecstatic in that moment, just to be together again.
It makes Jared believe in like, the innate goodness of humankind or something.

Because of 9-11 everything at LAX is fucked. You have to pay like, a million dollars to park,
although that's really not new, and you can't even wait at the gate for your big reunion. Jared
stands idly at baggage claim, trying to look cute and excited, but also nonchalant. He's really
trying to go for the laid-back thing as to avoid putting undue pressure on Jensen.

When Jensen walks up, finally, he looks AMAZING. He's dressed in jeans and an un-tucked light-
blue button down, scuffed up boots. When he sees Jared, their eyes lock and a smile as wide and
bright as Jared has ever seen breaks across his face, eyes crinkling and fucking glinting under
the fluorescent lighting.

He walks over, flings his arms around Jared without hesitation and kisses him, hands curled
around the back of his head and neck, Jared hanging onto his waist for dear life. Jensen's like,
really, really good at kissing and Jared's floored by it all over again. The pleasure of being kissed
like this in public, of being claimed like this in a place this public makes Jared shiver and slide his
fingers through Jensen's hair. So. Fucking. Awesome.

Jensen pulls back a little, bites at Jared's lip. "Best airport pick-up ever."

Jared can feel the flush on his face and okay, maybe his knees are a little weak. The effect
Jensen has on him is truly outlandish. "Aren't you nervous someone'll recognize you kissing a
dude?"

Jensen kisses him again, these short little half-peck, half-lick things that feel all soft and sweet
and wet and hot. He murmurs against Jared's mouth. "Not that famous. Don't give a shit anyway."

They don't even make it out of the terminal before Jensen's shoving him into a bathroom stall and
licking into his mouth and groping his cock through his jeans. It's pretty awesome actually, even if
public bathrooms are completely gross. Jensen's totally worth it.

It's really awkward because Jensen has this ridiculous rolling suitcase with him and it's squeezed
into the stall with them and Jared's like, sitting on it and Jensen's calves are hugging the toilet
and Jared think he's going to have to tell him to burn those jeans because, ew. Jensen ends up
sucking him off, right there, in a public bathroom in LAX as Jared teeters dangerously on
Jensen's luggage and Jensen squats-slash-bends at the waist. It's so fucking awkward Jared's
surprised either of them can even get hard. But Jensen's like, a masterful cocksucker and Jared
comes so fast it embarrasses him. Jensen swallows around him, licks him clean and Jared thinks
for a few seconds that he might black out. Sex is totally dangerous. But he takes a deep breath
and finds his center.

They try to swap positions because Jared's pretty sure there is nothing he wants more in the
world right now then to get Jensen's cock into his mouth, but there is NO room. They're like,
completely wedged into the stall, so Jared pulls Jensen up against him roughly, slides his hand
down his jeans and jerks him slowly, Jensen pressing heavy against his body and breathing hotly
against his neck.

Jared curls his fingers carefully, gently, presses his mouth to Jensen's cheekbone. "Tell me how
you like it, Jen, tell me how to touch you."

Jensen groans and kisses Jared, wet and sloppy and oh right, amazing. "Fuck, just your hands
enough to make me come."

Jared's completely delighted. He's always thought his hands were one of his most attractive
features. He twists his wrist and strokes slowly, drags his fingertips over the head of Jensen's
cock and sucks on Jensen's neck, mouths across his jaw. He jerks rougher, whispers into
Jensen's skin. "Yeah? You gonna come for me, Jen?"

Jensen growls and fucks into Jared's fist, hips pressed tight between Jared's thighs, fingers
digging bruises into Jared's hips. His body tenses and he bites roughly at Jared's neck, moans
Jared's name as he comes all over Jared's hand. Jared smiles, the picture of smug satisfaction.
Jensen breathes deep, kisses Jared. "Fucking A, man."

There's a lot of twisting and laughing and elbows to the ribs as Jensen cleans himself up, wipes
Jared's hand clean and fixes their clothes. Jared is totally impressed that they both look pretty
spotless, nothing to give them away except for Jensen's sinfully swollen mouth, which Jared has
to pause to kiss for a minute, and their healthy flush, easily attributed to a brisk jog through the
airport.

Jensen teases Jared about his Prius, asks him if it runs on fairy dust. Jared tries to glare and
admonish Jensen with his "stern" facial expression, but Jensen's face is so warm and sweet and
perfect when he's laughing that Jared just leans over the space between them and kisses Jensen
breathless.

Best airport pick-up ever.

They spend the day shopping and Jared makes some super great finds. He gets these two
fantastic vintage shirts at Jet Rag, one with this really great lion and shield design that really
brings out the green and gold in his eyes and a pink one with these huge floral cuffs; they're both
total throwbacks to the seventies and he falls immediately in love. He worries briefly about the
possible contamination they might carry. They could've like, been on old people or something, but
he figures his dry-cleaner will be able to handle it. He also buys a couple pairs of jeans that make
his ass look amazing, or so Jensen says.

Jared quickly learns that Jensen is NOT the kind of guy who likes to shop. He seems to like to
keep it simple, snags a couple of packs of undershirts at Calvin Klein and a new tie that really
brings out the gold flecks around his pupil. Jared has to admit he's a little bit disappointed in
Jensen's lack of shopping spirit, but Jensen doesn't complain about Jared liking to shop either,
even politely holds Jared's bags and oozes enthusiasm about Jared's ass when he models. And
frankly, that's good enough.

They're squeezed into Jared's Prius around the assortment of packages and bagsJared really
needed fresh face products and he was running low on his Kiehl's amino acid shampoo and his
Terax cream rinse so they had to stop at Sephora too, despite Jensen's mini-protest about "chick
stores" and "froofroo products." Then Jared realized he was almost out of food, or at least what
he keeps stocked in his mini-fridge so a grocery run was in order. It was a really full day.and
Jensen's staring across at Jared's face and it's so intense that Jared can totally FEEL it on him.
Jensen's big green eyes just like, burning into Jared's skin.

It's really not Jared's fault that he shivers. It's totally Jensen's fault for being Mr. Intensity and like,
mastering the art of the hard, sensual stare. Jared's face cracks into a nervous smile as he pulls
onto the freeway. He turns his head a little and chews his bottom lip. "What?"

"What what?"

Jared huffs a short breath out, a tendril of nervousness coiling in his belly. "Why are you looking
at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Jared huffs again and twists his mouth up. "Like, all intense or whatever. You're staring! I can
like, FEEL it."

Jared sees Jensen smirk out of the corner of his eye. It's smug and he's torn between kissing him
and maybe flicking his nose. "Not staring."

"Are you inspecting me for like, imperfections or something?"

Jensen laughs warm and bright in the darkness of the car. It's fresh dark and the lights alongside
the freeway are lighting his skin gold. It's like, completely stupidly breathtaking. "No." He pauses
for longer than the moment really calls for and Jared starts to get nervous and shift in his seat. "I
just like looking. At you."

Jared can feel his cheeks go rosy and warm and he can't help but smile, his wide mouth splitting
open over his teeth. "Why's that?"

Jared turns his head for just a second to catch the way Jensen's mouth twists. "Because you kind
of look like a troll from this angle and it amuses me."

Jared gasps. "You filthy liar." He touches his nose reflexively before he can stop himself and
Jensen laughs.

"Nope, not lying. God's honest truth. You look exactly like one of those troll dolls my sister had
when we were growing up." Jensen moves over in his seat and presses his chin to Jared's
shoulder. He smells like, utterly amazing, possibly intoxicating and Jared has to turn his head
toward the window to breathe. Jensen slides his hand across Jared's stomach, scratching across
his navel and the cuts of his hips. "You have a heart shaped jewel in your belly?"

Jared wants to laugh. Like, wants to laugh a lot. But Jensen's breathing in his ear and on his neck
and he's trying to make sure he doesn't crash the car, since that would be really, really bad. He
moves his right hand from the steering wheel and presses his palm to the top of Jensen's hand
on his stomach. He can feel his muscles shuddering and twitching under Jensen's touch and he
takes one slow deep breath. Jensen's lips are grazing the thin skin just under his ear and he's
murmuring so low that all Jared catches is "wanna make you come" and he almost swerves off of
the road.

"Fuck, Jensen"

"That's what I'm hoping for." Jared makes a surprised little sound of pleasure that he knows
sounds like a whimper but would rather not acknowledge. "You gonna take me back to your
place? Let me get you off?"

It had been the plan to swing by and dump Jensen at his apartment and then go home. They'd
both agreed that taking things a smidge bit more slowly was a good plan, even if it sadly meant
delayed orgasms, but Jared's pretty sure that if he can safely navigate them back to his place
with no fatal accidents or accidentally blowing his load in his pants, then he's going to let Jensen
do whatever the fuck he wants. Up to and including all penetrable orifices. And possibly a few
places which are neither penetrable or orifices.

Jared manages to navigate them to his place safely, which is a total testament to his skill as a
driver because Jensen just stayed there, pressed up close to Jared's side, stroking and
scratching and rubbing at Jared's hip and stomach and oh god, Jared's REALLY surprised that
they're parking in the structure at his building instead of being zipped into body bags.

Jensen kisses him as soon as the car is in park, slow, wet kisses that last forever, tongue
sweeping and searching and grazing Jared's teeth. Jared starts to worry a little that he might
have something perishable in the groceries but all he really bought was easy mac, apples, celery,
and some chocolate ice cream and if the ice cream melts he can just pour it over Jensen's skin
and lick him clean. So it won't go to waste.

He wants to move this inside, wants to grab Jensen by the lapels of his shirt and pull him
forcefully out of the car, but even in his head he can't actually see getting all the way up to his
apartment without dropping to the ground in the parking lot and rutting frantically against Jensen
until they come. It would be awesome. But also sucky because they're both wearing nice clothes
and this parking structure has a lot of oil stains.

Jensen is probably like, THE best kisser Jared has ever kissed. He's totally got technique and
style and like, flair. He leads with these soft, insistent presses of lip and tongue, little bites to the
edge of Jared's mouth, all easy and effortless, but he lets Jared take over too, lets Jared press in
harder, hold Jensen's jaw and own his mouth all desperately.

Jared would like to play it cool and relaxed like he does with guys normally, that easy, this-is-all-
preamble-to-fucking thing. But with Jensen, the kissing feels like it could be everything, like Jared
could die happy if the last thing he and Jensen ever did was lean over the center console in his
car and kiss for a few hours or possibly a few days. Maybe weeks. Kiss until they both wither
away to nothingness like that one girl on Oprah who ate the pickles and mustard all the time. He
forgets to pull away to breathe, forgets everything in the world except Jensen's lips working so
perfectly over his and the way he's pretty sure it means more than just Jensen being a really
good kisser. He can't help but give away the fact that he wants Jensen's mouth on him forever.

Jensen finally pulls back and takes a deep breath, forehead pressed to Jared's, Jared's head
going fuzzy from lack of oxygen. Jensen's cheeks are flushed and his breath is warm against
Jared's lips. "You taste good, Jay."

Jared smiles and bites his lip and smiles this crooked little sideways smile that he thinks is pretty
adorable. "Yeah?"

Jensen presses in and kisses him again, slow, no tongue, murmurs, "Yeah, real good" against
Jared's lips.

Jared takes a deep breath and rubs his thumb across Jensen's cheek bone and down his jaw.
"Ready to head inside?"

Jensen smiles. "Abso-fucking-lutely. You?"

Jared's ready. Really, really ready. He's hard and his jeans feel too tight against his cock or
possibly not tight enough and his skin is prickling and wet with sweat and he just wants to be
naked and pressing against a very naked Jensen ASAP.

"Yes," he laughs a little, "fuck yes, I am."

For the first time in Jared's long life as an avid shopper, he is SO irritated at having bought so
much stuff. They have to make two trips, two ridiculously stupid trips to carry in all of his bags and
groceries. He's on the second floor of the small building and he can't help but stare at Jensen's
ass as they climb the stairs. It's possibly the greatest ass he has ever seen. And Jared's seen
like, a LOT of asses. He almost tells Jensen to forget the rest of the stuff when they get into his
apartment the first time.

They stop on the landing on their way back down and kiss for a few minutes, Jared's huge hands
tucked into the back pockets of Jensen's jeans, squeezing and pulling him close, Jared's back
against the wall. Jensen grinds slowly against Jared's hip, his cock a hard, hot line through their
jeans and Jared moans into the kisses.

This is the most fucking awesome moment ever and Jared whines low in his throat,
embarrassingly, when Jensen pulls away and starts down the stairs again. Jared feels like he's
just blasphemed the Pope when he mutters, "Fucking bags" as they grab the second load.

Jared wants to shove Jensen straight into his studio and onto his bed and straddle him so fast
both of their heads spin. Jensen is like, stupidly fucking beautiful and Jared doesn't think he can
take it anymore. His brain is operating at maybe twenty percent of normal under the influence of
Jensen and Jared thinks he should come with a damn warning label.

"You gonna give me the grand tour?"

Jared's sticking the celery and ice cream in his mini-fridge and pushing bags out of the way so
there's a clear path to the bed and Jensen's question throws him off. Mostly because in his head,
Jensen's already naked on the bed, stroking his cock and waiting for Jared to mount him.

"Huh?"

Jensen smiles warm and bright as Jared closes the fridge. "You gonna give me the grand tour?"
He sweeps his arm across the tiny space to illustrate.

"Uh, sure." Jared stands next to Jensen, slides an arm around Jensen's shoulders. Jared leans in
close and breathes deep. Jensen smells amazing and it's like it's new all over again. He points to
the northeast corner of the apartment. "That's my wardrobe corner and my bathroom." There are
two racks of clothes positioned like a walkway on either side of his closet door. "The red rack is
casual, the blue rack is dress. Shoes, coats, and accessories have taken over the closet
completely."

Jensen smiles. "You need a place with more closet space."

"You don't even know the half of it."

Jared turns them to face his mini-fridge. "This is my kitchen." A little swivel to face his door. "And
my entryway."

"Very nice."

"Thank you, thank you." He turns them again until they're facing his bed. "And this is my
bedroom."

"No living room?"

"Bedroom slash living room. I don't really hang out here much, you know? I'm always at work."

Jensen nods, turns and swings Jared into his arms, slides them around Jared's waist and Jared's
breath hitches a little. He feels all dazed and out of control and like, if Jensen said that he was
going to take Jared away to live in Puerto Vallarta for the rest of their lives, he'd say yes without
hesitation. And like, Jared has always liked Mexico, but not enough to commit to a life of serving
margaritas to tourists at a beachside resort. Plus, his Spanish is totally awful and Jensen seems
like the kind of guy that took French or German.

Jensen kisses him, the same slow kisses from earlier, the ones he is CLEARLY an expert at, and
Jared feels himself go sort of weak and wobbly. It's really embarrassing, but Jensen obviously
feels it too and pulls him tighter, closer, doesn't stop kissing him.

Jared pulls back for a second because he can't remember how to BREATHE. "God damn, you
are," he pants and drags the tip of his nose down the side of Jensen's face, "you are way too
good at this."

Jensen laughs, this dark little throaty laugh that goes straight to Jared's cock. "Yeah, well, you're
no slouch, you know."

Jared grins and kisses Jensen, wet and rough and pushing him backward toward the bed. Jared
was pretty sure he was holding up his end of the bargain pretty well, but it is ALWAYS nice to
hear good things about his skills. Insecurity is something that happens to even the best of people.

Jared pushes Jensen back on the bed and Jensen pulls him into his lap. Jared feels like he's in a
movie and it's finally getting to the artsy sex scene part. Only he hopes it will be less artsy, more
full-frontal NC-17 action. He presses his knees into the mattress on either side of Jensen's hips
and presses his ass to Jensen's thighs, never once even considering pulling away from Jensen's
phenomenal mouth. He's pretty sure that kind of thought would be totally criminal. Possibly
punishable by law. At the very least, really really stupid.

He starts unbuttoning Jensen's shirt, running his fingertips under the fabric between buttons and
brushing the impossibly soft skin underneath. Jensen lets him touch and pull and take whatever
he wants, soft kisses and hard kisses and teeth to Jensen's neck and jaw and collarbones.
Jensen gives it back, follows Jared's lead, moans so. fucking. sexily. when Jared finally gets his
shirt off of his shoulders and runs his hands all over Jensen's bare skin.

Jensen's body is utterly incredible. He obviously works out, but not too much. He's hard and
angular, sharp cuts at his hips, but full and solid under Jared's hands. His abs are gorgeous and
his breath hitches when Jared drags his fingertips across them, tilts his head back when Jared's
fingers brush under the waistband of his jeans, through the trail of hair below his navel.

Jared works Jensen's jeans open slowly, mouth sucking a bruise into the hollow of Jensen's
throat. The zipper is loud in the quiet apartment and Jared realizes he's holding his breath. It
whooshes out of him suddenly, warm against Jensen's wet skin. He pushes Jensen onto his back
on the bed. He's never felt so feral or aggressive in his life and he leaves pink and red marks as
he kisses and bites his way down Jensen's chest and belly.

Jensen's skin is soft and tight and he tastes like soap and skin and like, life, which is so ridiculous
Jared wonders briefly if he's been drugged. He leaves a hickey on the skin at Jensen's hip, biting
and sucking until Jensen's writhing and panting underneath him.

It's not like, a conscious decision, but he wants Jensen to beg. He wants Jensen's voice to crack
in his throat as he begs for Jared to touch him. But Jared's totally bad at waiting for stuff; he's not
really good at the whole being patient thing and apparently Jensen's resolve is like, steely.

He inches Jensen's jeans down slowly, licking at each sliver of newly bared skin, waiting almost-
patiently for Jensen to break. Pretty soon, Jared is beyond caring if Jensen's going to beg and
he's shucking his jeans down and staring at Jensen's cock with an almost embarrassing level of
like, sheer NEED.

"Fuck, Jay." Jensen's panting and craning his neck to look down at Jared, threading his fingers
through Jared's hair.

Jared can't help the grin that overtakes his face. He nuzzles his face against Jensen's thigh,
kisses the pale skin there. "What?"

Jensen drops his head back to the bed. "You gonna"

Jared smiles harder and licks at Jensen's thigh. "Am I gonna what?"

Jensen groans and shifts on the bed. Jared is utterly delighted by the power he has at his
disposal right now. He's not used to having any active control over the direction his sex life takes
normally and he's always liked it that way; it's easy, effortless, but the way Jensen's groaning and
shaking and so close to breaking with complete WANT is intoxicating. Jensen's cock is hard,
straining, his entire body strung tight for Jared, because of Jared. It's seriously fucking awesome.
Jared doesn't even care that he's still totally clothed, which is insane. This is one of his favorite
shirts and it might get come on it and come STAINS. But Jensen is SO totally worth it.

"Jay, please, come on... Please." Jensen's hips buck up and his cock almost hits Jared's chin.

Jared leans in close, blows hot breath over the head of Jensen's dick and Jensen fully and totally
whimpers. Jared feels triumphant, but desperate.

"Tell me, Jen, come on, wanna... so bad. Just... just SAY it." His voice cracks more than he'd
have really liked, but he thinks his ability to modulate got lost somewhere down Jensen's throat
when they were kissing.

Jensen pushes up on his elbows and stares down into Jared's face, tangles his fingers in Jared's
hair, gentle but insistent. "Suck me, Jay, god, please suck me." Jensen's voice is thready and
rung through with lust and Jared swallows him down in one swift movement.

If ever there were an argument for nature versus nurture regarding Jared's sexuality, Jared's
pretty sure his being born without a gag reflex is evidence that God created queers in His image
too.

He takes Jensen all the way to the back of his throat and swallows around him, throat working
and spit dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Jensen's cock is full and heavy, thick on Jared's
tongue. He pulls off and swallows down again, Jensen's hips snapping up despite how hard he's
fighting it. Jared smiles around Jensen's cock, revels in the fact that Jensen has as little control
as Jared does.

Jensen looks debauched, flushed and shiny with sweat, one fist in Jared's hair, the other digging
into the comforter. "Jayjayjayjay, fuck." It's barely a whisper, but Jensen's thighs tense and his
abs flex and shift and Jared prepares himself to swallow.

He hasn't had a ton of practice with this part of the show. It's not that he's selfish or anything, it's
just that usually the blowjob is just preamble, pre-show entertainment. There's always coming; it's
just not usually in this particular orifice.

Jensen comes with a low groan, hips thrusting erratically and Jared trying not to choke at the
warm, stickiness in his mouth and down his throat. He sucks Jensen through it, licks at the head
of his cock as he starts to go soft. Jared kisses his way up Jensen's body, flicks his tongue out to
tease and taste.

He feels totally heady with lust and power and his dick is screaming at him for attention. He curls
up against Jensen, kisses him lazily. Jared wants to come, like, really bad, but the kissing thing is
still completely awesome. Jared's pretty sure he could go the rest of his life without leaving his
bed as long as Jensen stayed there next to him, all stretched out and naked.

Jensen slides his hand down Jared's belly and into his jeans and takes hold of Jared's cock.
Jared sucks in a breath and mouths at Jensen's jaw.

"You want me to suck you, Jay?" He twists a little, bites at Jared's collarbone and strokes him
roughly a few times. "You want my mouth around you again?"

Jared makes some sort of strangled noise that sounds like an alien language, possibly Russian or
something. He wants Jensen everywhere, wants Jensen's hands and mouth all over every inch of
his body. He takes a deep breath and tries to center just a little, maintain some semblance of
control. It fails. He pulls Jensen's face up and kisses him, tries for English this time. "Don't care
how you do it," he pauses to kiss Jensen again, "just want you to get me off."

Jensen groans and Jared feels sort of righteous and awesome. Jensen is so lost in him, in this,
as much as he's lost in Jensen, in the grip Jensen has on his dick, in Jensen's mouth on his neck.

Jensen squeezes his fist tighter, jerks Jared experimentally, tries long strokes and short strokes,
fast and slow, finds a rhythm as Jared groans and whimpers when he gets the stroke right.
Jared's dick is leaking precome and he feels slick and dirty and completely amazingly undignified,
closer and closer to breaking and coming all over himself with each of Jensen's careful strokes.
He tries to think about Mike and Chad and Rosie O'Donnell naked and anything that might slow
down the orgasm burning low in his belly.

It doesn't work. Like, at ALL. And when Jensen bites at Jared's collarbone and urges him to come
in this husky, wrecked voice, Jared does. A lot. Messy and sticky all over himself and Jensen's
fist.

And then Jensen pulls his hand out and Jared is pretty sure he dreams the next part because
Jensen fucking... he spreads his fingers and licks his hand clean. He LICKS Jared's COME off of
his hand. Jared groans and falls back on the bed. It is so... It is OBSCENE and Jared doesn't
know what to do with himself because his dick already feels like it wants to get hard again, but
he's exhausted and his arms and legs feel like they're made of lead and Jensen's curling up close
to Jared's side and kissing his skin and like, Jared is so overwhelmed he can't even remember
his own name.

He kisses Jensen's mouth, drags his teeth over Jensen's bottom lip and smiles. He doesn't
remember anything about falling asleep except for Jensen's hand on his hip and face against his
shoulder.

When he wakes up, there's a blanket tangled around his feet and the clock on his bedside table
says it's 3:21 am. Jensen and his clothes are gone and the sheets are cold on his side of the bed.

Part 4

Jared doesn't know what love is.

Or, okay, he knows what some love is. He loves his parents and his brother and sister, his
grandparents and his friends. He loves the Versace suit his mom bought him after he got his first
part in a movie. He loves peaches and Texas summers and the way the air smells like asphalt
and ocean and ozone on PCH. He loves that he still feels brave for moving to L.A. and he loves
the way happiness and satisfaction sometimes overtake him out of nowhere just because he's
here and he's alive and he's trying.

But when it comes to THAT kind of love. That boy on boy or girl on girl or boy on girl love? He
doesn't get it.

He wants, with all of his like, stupidly nave heart, to believe that true love is real. That he will find
someone someday that he actually wants to spend the rest of his life with, the person that will
make him understand why people are fighting so hard for the whole gay marriage thing. Because
right now the only appeal marriage holds is the big party and all the presents and really, he can
do that for his birthday, so he just doesn't GET it. He tries, he really does, and he even donates to
the cause or whatever, but the appeal of a marriage certificate is utterly lost on him. Parties he
gets, paperwork he does not.

But there was something there with Jensen. Not love because, seriously, Jared doesn't even
know what that means, but he has all of these FEELINGS and they're all sort of weird and
unexplainable and they make his stomach hurt and he really doesn't appreciate it at all.

First Jensen fucks with him by being around and now he fucks with him by NOT being around.

It's really not fair for one person to have that much control over Jared's life.

Jared spends the week after The Night, as he's come to call it, in complete and utter agony.

He knows it's ridiculous and he feels like a complete and utter drama queen, but Jensen just
LEFT. In the middle of the night. After a day spent bonding and having orgasms. Jared really
can't help but feel slighted.

Jensen doesn't call, so Jared doesn't call him.

Jared hates it, hates that he suddenly feels like he's done something irrevocably stupid, hates
that he feels like he drove Jensen away when he thought they were just on the verge of close,
hates that Jensen's not suffering with all of these stupid feelings too.

The last time he felt this bad was when his favorite pair of Gucci slacks got bleached out at the
dry cleaner. He had been SO cautious, so careful with them, passing on sex in club bathrooms on
more than one occasion just to keep them pristine. And then Raphael had to wreck them. Those
slacks made Jared's ass look perfect and they're out of production now. It was like losing a
favorite child.

Only this is SO much worse and it hurts in this all new place that Jared didn't even know he HAD.

Jared understands regret. He regrets sleeping with Jason. And Mark. And Brendan. He regrets a
few of his movie roles and sometimes the STD print ads. But with Jensen, it hurts more,
differently because it confuses him. He regrets fucking Mark and Jason and Brendan because it
was stupid and he never should've done it. He regrets what he had with Jensen because he
ruined it. And worst of all, he doesn't know how he did it. He feels like he has to regret everything
since he met Jensen and that's just too much to regret.

It's like, really upsetting.

Jared's never been dumped before. Like, ever. So this is whole new territory. But he doesn't know
if he can count this as being dumped even. He and Jensen weren't technically TOGETHER,
which just makes everything all the more like, complex. And also confusing.

This would all be so much easier if Jensen had thrown a tantrum like a normal guy and called
Jared a slut or a moron or something instead of disappearing into the dark of the night like a sex
ninja. At least then Jared would understand how he fucked this all to hell.

He gets up and goes to work every day that week, makes deliveries and accessorizes pizzas
without enthusiasm. He goes on three god awful auditions, two for TV movies and a third for a
video game voiceover. He gets a callback on the voiceover and the follow up goes well, despite
the fact that he sounds like he just got, like, kicked repeatedly in the kidneys and his agent
assures him that the job is his.

He sleeps a lot and doesn't go out. He is utterly ashamed at what a clich he is, but he figures
that sometimes it's okay to mope. His mom always said that a good sulk could cure anything and
a week of being lamely, typically break-up morose like all of his friends do is probably acceptable.

Besides, the retail therapy he so desperately needs to indulge in will be SO much more rewarding
when he's been a week without a trip to the Beverley Center. It'll be like sex after a too long dry-
spell. Or so Jared assumes. He's never had one of those.

Chad comes back from a delivery on Wednesday and starts hassling Jared. He and Tom have
been really supportive, Tom even curtailing Mike's empty threats of violence, but Chad has
apparently declared a moratorium on angsting.

"Look at this morose mother fucker over here." Chad claps Jared on the back and Jared drops
the bell peppers in his hands. He sighs. "You over this stupid son of a bitch yet?"

"Not really in the mood to discuss it." Jared is ready to go home. Chad is more exhausting than
three hours on the elliptical and not nearly as good for his ass.

"Dude, I know you want to drag this out and mope and make us all miserable and stuff, but do
you think you could, I don't know, KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF?"

It's been a week and Jared is ready to stop being sad, but he wants to do it on HIS terms, not on
Chad's like, bizarro world ones. "Chad--"

"No, dude, seriously, he's not WORTH this much emo bullshit. I don't care if he's got a mouth like
a fucking Hoover and a like, magically lubricating asshole. He ain't worth it."

"Chad!" Jared hasn't ever felt so... AGHAST. Chad's always been painfully straightforward and
Jared's pretty sure he doesn't even have the mental capacity to grasp what an oral filter is, let
alone use one, but this is pretty extreme. "Look, I'll get over it, okay? It's just... complicated."

Chad rolls his eyes and smacks his fist on the counter. "Complicated because you're an asshole
sissy?"

"I'm pretty sure it's too complex for you to grasp." Jared feels strangely better. Being irritated at
Chad is much more pleasant than being depressed.

"Dude, you had what? Less than a week together? Let. it. go. No piece of ass is worth this much
misery."

The most frustrating thing about this conversation is that Jared knows Chad is probably right.

Aside from the fact that Chad being right might possibly unmake existence, it's also really
disappointing. Jared didn't want Jensen to just be a piece of ass or like, a sexual conquest. He
feels stupid and nave, but he totally thought there was something there between them and now
just letting it go seems like an utter impossibility.

Jensen talked to him like a grown-up, like a person, like he had opinions and feelings and like,
deep thoughts. It was different. And really nice.

He should be able to let Jensen go, but he can't. More importantly, he doesn't think he really
wants to.

"But what if he is, y'know, worth it or whatever?"

Chad tilts his head like an extra-retarded puppy, the kind who have like, one short leg and a bad
eye and run into walls because their mother is also their sister and their aunt. He shakes his head
like Jared is the saddest thing he's ever seen. Jared really resents it. "Then ya gotta cowboy up.
Stop being a bitch and tell him you're in love with his faggy-ass."

Jared scratches idly at his chin for a second. It's a frightening thought and he hates himself for
listening to Chad, but the douche is right, Jared needs to step up and like, be a man or whatever.

He decides, right then and there, all impulsively, that he'll go to Jensen's when his shift ends with
a pizza peace offering. He hopes it will go well, that he will seem sweet and brave and all those
things that he pretends to be on auditions and in his parts, only for real. He figures Jensen is
worth the potential for like, mortification and embarrassment.
+++


When Jensen's apartment door swings open, it isn't Jensen standing in the doorway.

Instead of Jared's mountain Adonis it's some dude with greasy hair and a stained wife-beater and
these low slung jeans over bare feet. It takes Jared a minute and he groans at the god damn
stupid smallness of Los Angeles County and all of his ridiculously bad luck.

It's Chris, the singer from Steve's band. Jared is confused and furious and it's only compounded
by the fact that Chris obviously doesn't recognize him, like, at ALL, which is stupid because he
and Steve spend far too many hours making out on Steve's couch while Chris played video
games or wrote songs about his epic love affairs gone wrong.

Jared takes a deep breath as Chris smiles all, like, condescendingly. "I didn't order a pizza."

Jared opens his mouth to say he must have the wrong place so he can leave with just a smidge
of dignity still in place, but Chris shouts over his shoulder. "You order a pizza, Jen?"

Jared hears a confused, "No" from deep in the apartment and considers throwing the pizzas on
the ground and running down the hallway and out of the building and down Doheny at full tilt until
he hits Santa Monica. And never, ever coming back. Abandoning his car and losing every ounce
of dignity left in his body would be worth not having to see Jensen right now.

But he forces himself to stay in place, takes a deep breath. He wishes briefly that he'd gone home
to change. He really thought the whole humble worker look was going to work in his favor here,
that Jensen would understand that he was coming to him, not desperate--because desperation
looks bad on everyone--but with an intensity of desire that could not be held off long enough for a
clothing change. But now he just thinks he looks greasy and probably smells like pepperoni.

This is not the way he intended this plan to work out.

Jensen appears in the doorway and he looks... He looks every bit of the fucking Greek god who
came to the door the first time Jared showed up here. Jared takes a deep breath and tries to
smile. He knows it probably looks like some terrifying Jack-O-Lantern face instead of anything
remotely resembling human facial expression, but he plows on politely. "No pizzas ordered at this
address?"

Chris smiles, polite but with a hint of "pretty sure this kid's retarded," says, "Nope, sorry, man."

Jared chokes out a laugh. It sounds so pathetic he's pretty sure he'll have to be ashamed of
himself for at least a week, possibly the rest of his life. "Sorry to bother you, the address must've
gotten put down wrong. Have a good night."

Jared turns on his heel and walks down the hallway. It feels like the Walk of Shame that
sometimes has to be made in frat houses only he can't chin up and shout, "Thanks for the good
time, Randy" or whatever name he was screwing this time as payback. Nothing fucks with a
closeted mo more than outing him to his brothers. Jared's not petty; turnabout is simply fair play.

He hears Jensen say his name once, quiet, then a louder, "Jay" but he doesn't turn around,
doesn't look back. Just tries to hold his head up and keep walking.

His phone rings for the first time as he walks into his apartment. He looks at the display even
though he already recognizes the ringtone. Jensen smiles up at him from the phone and he
quietly curses technology for making such a stupid feature possible.

He ignores the call and Jensen doesn't leave a voicemail.

He gets a text an hour later. can we talk?

He deletes it.

There are dozens more phone calls, twice as many text messages in the next day. call me and let
me explain and please, but Jared ignores or deletes every single one.

Anger is different than regret. It's harder, meaner, scary and uncontrollable. It swells low and hot
in Jared's belly like some fucked up reverse Shrinky Dink. It makes Jared feel like he's on the
verge of spiraling out of control and not in the fun Tilt-a-Whirl-on-a-first-date way, but in that
awful, flip-flopping stomach way that makes his skin cold and prickly.

He isn't angry that Jensen has another guy; they weren't dating, not really, so it's not his place to
care--even if that other guy is Christian fucking Kane who is like, the biggest douche on Earth,
second only to Chad--but the fact that Jensen didn't just lay that out from the beginning is total
bullshit.

Jared never asked for a commitment or like, monogamy or anything. He just wanted to have a
good time. He hadn't even considered those things himself. He was just delivering pizza and
playing video games and hoping that this really, really hot guy was into buttsex.

He didn't ask for a commitment ceremony or promise rings. He just wanted to have and give lots
and lots of orgasms. And lots of come does not a commitment make.

Jensen leaves a voicemail every hour on the hour the next day. Jared only listens to the first
second, just Jensen's plaintive "Jay" that starts every message, before he hits delete. He feels
melodramatic and petty and like, all of those stupid things that people become after break-ups,
but he doesn't want to hear all of Jensen's excuses and explanations. He doesn't need to hear,
"Jay, sorry. I should've told you about Chris. We're in LOVE. Thanks for the orgasms. BYE."

If Jensen wants to fuck Chris Kane, it's none of Jared's business.

The calls and texts taper off to a minimum over the next week and he feels unpleasantly relieved.
It feels sort of like when he was thirteen and his dog Sparkles had to be put down. She'd been
sick for a really long time, so as much as Jared missed rolling around in the backyard and
dressing her up for holidays, he knew it was like, the VERY best thing they could've done.

Jared still deletes every text and voicemail. He still doesn't need excuses.

He's working the afternoon shift with Chad again on Friday when Jensen shows up.

Jared is just getting back on track. He got the video game voiceover and a third round callback for
Clinique and he's starting to feel normal again. He spent his usual half-hour picking out his outfit
this morning and the green Domino's polo and dark vintage jeans he's wearing feel good again,
like maybe clothes can make the man or whatever. He's still listening to his "Broken Hearts Club"
playlist, but he's stopped thinking about how many of the songs are about wanting someone
back.

He's standing behind the counter sorting through receipts for Chad and running his totals. Chad's
been a good friend the last week and Jared really appreciates it, even if Chad keeps trying to
grab his ass and like, nuzzle his neck. He's like a puppy and Jared needs to enforce obedience
training a little better. Possibly with the addition of a muzzle. Or a choke-chain.

Jared's back is to the lobby, Chad's receipts from the day clutched in his fist, when he hears the
shuffling sound of feet against the tile floor. He just mopped, so he's about to turn and yell about
god damn ungrateful kids and their fucking SCUFFS, when he hears Chad yell.

"You wanna start some shit, Iron Man?"

Jared turns around and Chad's pointing a broom menacingly in Jensen's general direction.
Jensen's eyes are huge and ridiculous and his knuckles are white around his grip on the door.

Chad is not, in the least, a threatening figure, but Jared knows that Jensen knows how
unpredictably weird Chad can be and he's pretty sure Jensen's greatest fear at the moment is
getting molested with the broom handle like the FFA pigs at Jared's high school when he was a
senior.

"Hey, dude, it's okay." He presses his palm to Chad's shoulder, which is probably the safest part
of his body to touch, but Jared still feels like he should go and wash his hands. ASAP.

"You sure?"

Jared nods, "It's cool. Go finish your receipts."

Chad jerks himself forward like he's about to jump Jensen and Jensen flinches a little against the
door, but raises his eyebrow like he's studying Chad for signs of like, whatever makes Chad
completely nutbar. Rabies or mad cow disease or something.

Jensen's hand loosens on the door a little, but Jared doesn't fail to notice that he's still clinging to
it like it's keeping him standing. "Hey."

Jared smiles a little and it's not forced. Seeing Jensen is a little overwhelming, like watching a
meteor shower while standing and staring straight up to the sky. When you look down, you expect
everything to still be streaking across your eyes. It feels like falling. "What's up?"

Jensen steps back a little, opens the door and the bell sounds again. "Any chance we could talk
for a minute?"

"Jensen--"

"Please, Jay, give me five minutes? Please."

Jensen looks pleading and earnest and Jared feels this faint ache in his chest. He nods and
follows Jensen out of the door.

Jensen's wearing dark jeans, a green t-shirt with a Sony logo, and a pair of scuffed up military-
surplus boots that Jared's first lesbian friend would have called bitchin'. His shoulders are
hunched in like he's sore and his hiatus stubble is almost verging on a beard, but a soft little
sandy one. It's stupidly attractive and Jared hates himself for even noticing it.

He walks toward Jared's Prius at the back of the parking lot and Jared gets really nervous. He
has all these flashes of girls in high school whose ex-boyfriends went crazy and like, smashed the
shit out their cars. He doesn't think Jensen is that kind of guy at all and he doesn't look angry, not
that he even has like, any reason AT ALL to be angry at Jared, this whole thing was his fault
anyway. And he doesn't appear to have a weapon of any kind. But Jared is uneasy anyway.

This is weird and Jared feels awkward and like, totally skin-crawly. It's like, well, he usually
practices his conversations.

It's not like he sits around imagining every possible way that a particular conversation could go
because with the sheer number of conversations he has on a given day he could spend all of his
waking hours just preparing for them. But he likes to have like, a plan of action for most
conversations, a familiarity with the terrain, a roadmap that can tell him the vague way, even if
there's a detour halfway through his trip.

Jared has no Thomas Guide for the kind of conversation that he's pretty sure he's about to have.

Jensen presses his back to the passenger window of Jared's car, shoves his hands in his
pockets, and looks so totally... forlorn that Jared wants to tip his face up and tell him, "Chin up,
pip pip, things will get better" only Jared is still kind of angry and he doesn't want things to get
better.

Except for the part where he doesn't think he could ever, like, EVER wish ill on Jensen.

It's a stupid conflicting set of emotions and Jared does not at all approve.

Jared crosses his arms over his chest and swallows. He tries to look blank and steeled, like
whatever Jensen's about to say will mean as much as hearing a grocery list read aloud.

"Look, Jay, let me explain, okay?"

Jared nods and clamps down on the desperate urge to quote Madonna's "Sorry" and walk away.

"I'm sorry I left the other night, man. Really, really fucking sorry. It was..." Jensen laughs and
shakes his head. "A level of stupidity I am generally pretty unfamiliar with." He scrubs his hand
over his face and traces his bottom lip with his thumb. Jared is SO irritated by how attractive it is.
"I just, I dunno, Jay, I freaked, I guess. And then when you showed up at my place... I just. I didn't
know how to explain, you know?"

Jared grunts and it's really undignified. "Yeah, well I guess cheating can do that to you."

Jensen twists his face and he looks utterly perplexed. "Cheating? You think I was cheating on
you?" He steps away from the car, closer to Jared.

Jared rolls his eyes. "Not on ME, Jensen, on CHRIS. Why didn't you just TELL me you were with
somebody? I wouldn't have pushed you so hard." Jared's skin feels hot and tight and his eyes
sting like when you crack your head into something and the pain sneaks up on you.

"Jay," Jensen laughs, "I'm not with Chris. Chris? I. You can't. He's my best friend, Jay, but. I
couldn't. I mean... Dude, he wears cowboy hats. In PUBLIC." Jensen smiles, bites at his bottom
lip and Jared wants to chase the bite with his tongue. This is precisely why he didn't want to see
Jensen in person. Or hear his voice on the phone. Or think about what he looks like. At all. Ever
again. "You thought... Chris and I?"

Jared really resents the way that Jensen's looking at him, all amused and curious and like,
judgmental. It's not mean and it's actually kind of adorable and it just makes everything that much
harder. "Well... yeah, okay? I mean." Jared purses his lips, this face that he just knows is going to
give him creases around his mouth someday, but that he can't train himself to not make. "What
was I supposed to think?"

"Chris is just my friend, Jay. That's it." Somehow Jensen's pushed in close and switched their
positions. Jared's back is pressed to his car and Jensen's advancing on him. He feels like a zebra
in one of those discovery shows where the pride of lionesses stalk some helpless animal and
then tear it to disgusting little shreds. Only less gross and scared, more intrigued and possibly
erect. Just a little. And not a zebra because it's not 1996 anymore and animal prints are tacky,
something like a gazelle or an impala, graceful and like, dignified.

Jared sucks in a deep breath and tries to steel himself. He visualizes himself at a podium in his
Versace suit. He is elegant and loquacious and it makes him feel better. It's his audition
visualization. "I thought you didn't want me... That you changed your mind. And then seeing
Chris..."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" Jensen face twists into this sad, concerned look and Jared feels a
flash of guilt for making Jensen feel bad for even a second before anger flares in his belly.

"What was I supposed to think?" Jared laughs, this short sort of disgusted sound he perfected for
a Burger King commercial where he had to turn down a Big Mac with horror and take a Whopper
with delight, only it's like, genuine. "You left, man. You left in the middle of the night and you didn't
call. For a week, Jensen. A week." Jared takes a deep breath. "I just figured I misread the whole
thing. You don't want me, that's cool. I just wish you'd been honest and not like, taken off."

Jensen shakes his head and steps toward Jared. "Dude, you cannot be THAT stupid."

Jared's about to object at being called stupid because, okay, maybe he's a little ditzy sometimes
and he can't remember all fifty state capitals and he's not good at biology or calculus, but he's not
STUPID, but Jensen's mouth is closing on his and he'd be willing to concede to being stupid or
the Pope or George W. Bush if it meant that Jensen would keep kissing him.

Jensen licks and bites and sucks on Jared's bottom lip and Jared has to press his weight against
his car just to stay standing. Jensen's hands are wrapped around his neck, thumbs digging in at
his jaw, tilting his face so Jensen can lick at his teeth, the roof of his mouth. Jared focuses, closes
his hands on Jensen's waist, and kisses him back, soft passes of his tongue and bites to the
edge of Jensen's mouth.

Jared feels all lightheaded and like maybe he's drowning in this moment, drowning in Jensen or
some other horrible clich that is only occurring to him because all of the blood in his brain is
rushing southward and making him forget why he and Jensen stopped doing this in the first place.

There's this tiny little voice in the back of his head warning him that this is probably not at all a
good idea and that he should still be really angry and upset and like, confused about the way
Jensen's been acting. It's all faint and pathetic and kind of sounds like one of the parents from
Charlie Brown.

It shuts right up or maybe Jared is just suddenly able to ignore it when Jensen's hands slide down
and into Jared's back pockets. Jared whimpers into Jensen's mouth and Jensen pulls him closer,
kisses harder, takes Jared's breath and like, all of his ability to think critically. Or like, at all.

"Jay, Jay." Jensen pulls back and presses his forehead to Jared's, ghosts his lips over Jared's
cheek, an echo of their first kiss, or almost-kiss thing. "I'm sorry, man, so sorry. You can't." He
breathes deep, kisses the side of Jared's mouth and Jared's knees maybe go an eensy bit
wobbly. "You can't think I don't want you. Man, how could anybody not want you?"

Jared's not entirely sure how the next part happens, but they're in his car, pulling up in front of
Jensen's apartment building and Jensen's hand is working Jared's cock through his jeans and
he's moaning and pulling the key out of the dash and once again he has to be really, really
grateful for his superior driving skills. They should definitely be in a ditch somewhere. He doesn't
even remember hooking his seatbelt.

Jensen climbs out of the car and they both try to maintain some sense of public dignity on their
way to the door. Jared tosses the valet his key and the valet smiles. The concierge greets them
both and tells them to have a nice afternoon and they stand in front of the elevator, trying
desperately not to grope each other right there. Or at least Jared has to try, Jensen is like, the
fucking picture of composure. It's SO frustrating.

The elevator doors open and Jensen follows Jared through, pushes Jared back against the back
wall and starts kissing him again, wet and hot and oh man, Jared's never, ever going to get tired
of this. Ever. Jensen's hands slide down into the pockets of Jared's jeans again and Jared smiles.
All the hours he spends on the elliptical really pay off. He lurches forward, guiding Jensen, just so
he can get to the floor buttons. He hits eleven for Jensen's apartment, Jensen's mouth moving
against his jaw and neck, tongue trailing over his Adam's apple.

That's when he catches their reflection in the almost-mirrored finish of the elevator doors.
Jensen's ass is like, flawless in his jeans and Jared's mesmerized by the way the muscles in his
back and shoulders bunch and shift as he squeezes Jared's ass and sucks at his throat. "Fuck,
Jensen." Jared tries to get Jensen to like, PAUSE for a second, but he's biting Jared's
collarbones through his shirt and Jared can barely focus and they're already halfway to Jensen's
apartment. "Jen, turn around, come on, turn around."

Jensen whines, but shifts in Jared's arms. Jared kisses and sucks at the back of his neck, the
curve of his jaw. His skin tastes like soap and his beard tickles Jared's nose. "Look, Jen, look how
good you look."

Jensen focuses on the door and smiles. The reflection is only about half as stunning as the real
thing and it still almost knocks Jared over. He slides his hands under Jensen's shirt and Jensen
twists his face to kiss Jared over his shoulder. Jared can't take his eyes off of their reflection and
it feels pretty narcissistic, even for him, but he doesn't CARE. Jensen's making these happy little
sounds and trying pretty hard to kiss Jared to death and it's all kind of awesome. Jared moves his
hands across the smooth plane of Jensen's belly, slides his fingers into the waist band of
Jensen's jeans and right as he's about to close his hand around Jensen's cock, just about to see
Jensen's abs tighten and flex as Jared strokes him, the elevator dings and the doors open.

Jared openly groans in frustration and Jensen smiles, hooks his finger into Jared's belt and pulls
him out of the elevator toward Jensen's apartment.

Jared feels like he's sixteen again and getting to kiss Danny Fehrman under the bleachers after
football practice--Greg's practice, of course; Jared was never really one for full contact sports
unless it involved lots of nudity--because they keep stopping every few feet in the hallway and
pressing against each other and licking and sucking and biting and neither one will let go of the
other for more than a second. Jared keeps laughing because Jensen's facial hair is all tickly and
scratchy and Jensen keeps sliding his hands under the back of Jared's polo and Jared's lower
back is sort of insanely ticklish. The kisses are sloppy and smiley and Jared feels like he might
float away or something and Jensen's hands are the only thing keeping him tethered to the plush
carpeting in the hallway.

Getting through the door takes a ridiculous amount of work and time because Jensen can't get
the key to cooperate or the handle to turn and Jared won't stop kissing and everything moves like
molasses when Jensen's mouth is on his.

They pull apart when they get into the apartment and Jared takes the moment to try to recover
some sense of like, where the sky and the ground are in relation to the way his head is spinning.
He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. His ends are totally soft and he
smiles. He starts a mental checklist of how he's looking and feeling physically, but he's only ticked
off "attractive" and "horny" when Jensen's mouth is back on his and he's being pushed gently
backward toward Jensen's bedroom.

Jensen yanks his t-shirt over his head and then pulls Jared's polo off too. Jensen's sudden
aggression is like, devastatingly hot and Jared is delighted by it. Jensen pushes him back on the
bed and starts kissing his way down Jared's chest, these slow sucking kisses that make Jared
squirm.

There's a lot of shifting and soft laughter as Jared kicks his shoes off and Jensen works Jared's
jeans down, mouth still working over his skin and then Jensen starts like, talking and Jared pretty
sure he's going to just up and DIE.

"Gonna show you, Jay, gonna show you how bad I want you." Each of his words are punctuated
with wet flicks of his tongue and Jared moans and tangles his fingers in Jensen's hair.

Jared's not real concerned about whether or not Jensen wants him at the moment, the movement
of his mouth, the hot line of his cock burning against Jared's hip through Jensen's jeans is pretty
much proof enough. Right now, Jared's only real concern is making sure that he gets completely
and utterly fucked.

Jensen has disappeared down Jared's body and he's sucking a hickey against Jared's hipbone
and Jared is suddenly, shockingly aware of how close Jensen is to his cock and how easily Jared
could come. Without even like, TRYING. No one should have that much control over Jared's dick.

"Jen." Jared's voice is all broken and he's panting and sounds completely and totally gone.
"Jensen."

Jensen looks up at him and smiles. His eyes are all dark and like, WANTON. "Tell me what you
want, Jay."

Jared takes a deep breath and tries not to beg. Begging is not becoming, even when he wants
Jensen so bad his throat is thick with it. "Fuck me."

Jensen kisses his way up Jared's body, mouths across Jared's jaw. Jared's so hard, so
desperate to feel Jensen inside of him, that he's beyond caring about the scrape of beard burn
across his skin or the fact that he'll probably have to mud mask to get the redness to go down.

Jensen kisses him slow and sweet then murmurs against Jared's mouth. "Want you to ride me,
Jay. Been thinking about it since that first night." He kisses Jared again, but Jared's brain has
possibly melted out of his ears and he can barely react and kiss back. "Want you riding me so
fucking bad. That work for you?"

Jared whimpers, god damn WHIMPERS, "Fuck, YES, god" and then Jensen shifts their positions
and shoves his jeans down and pulls Jared up so he's straddling Jensen's thighs. Jensen
reaches into his bedside table drawer, flailing blindly, his face twisting up into just about the cutest
expression Jared could imagine at a time like this. He bites a smile into his bottom lip when his
hand stills and he produces a couple of condoms still joined by their packaging and a bottle of
lube with a flourish that Jared wholly approves of.

"That's a little slutty, man. Supplies at the ready? Sure know how to make a girl feel special." He's
going for coy and cute and adorable and he's pretty sure he pulls all three off quite well. His teeth
are creasing his lip where he's biting it and Jensen's smiling and shaking his head.

"Bought 'em after that first night, hoping you were easy." Jensen smiles bright and closes his
hand on Jared's dick, pulls one long stroke from base to tip and Jared shudders. "Looks like I was
right."

Jared gasps and closes his hands on his hips. "I am NOT easy," but the last word gets caught in
his throat when Jensen strokes him again. "Don't think you can just shut me up--" Jensen strokes
again and Jared's breath whooshes out of his chest. "God damn. Don't think grabbing my cock
will shut me up."

Jensen pulls Jared down and kisses him. Jensen's cock drags a wet line up Jared's abs and he
smiles into the kiss. Jensen pulls back. "Your cock's not your mute button, got it."

Jared raises his eyebrow and uses his incredulous face. "This is very serious business, Jensen."
He tries to keep his face as straight as possible, but Jensen's little nervous face gives him way
too much pleasure and he laughs and drags his nails down Jensen's chest. "Pretty much
anything involving my dick will shut me up. It's handy that way."

"You gonna tell me about it or you gonna let me inside you?"

Jared's breath catches in his throat and he's pretty sure he almost faints. He grabs for the lube
and pops the lid. "You wanna? Or you want me to?"

Jensen groans. "Wanna watch you."

Jared slicks up his first two fingers and arches back. If there is one thing Jared does well, it's
putting on a show and this is just about his favorite kind. He slips his fingers in and stretches. It
hurts because, well, it's been a while. It's not like it was a dry spell or anything, Jared's not lame.
It's just that the pickings of worthy guys have been a little slim lately and he'd rather spend some
quality time with his right hand then fuck some lamer in a sparkly sequined button-down.

He keeps working his fingers in and his mouth is open and he's pretty sure he's moaning and
when he looks down Jensen looks completely debauched, lips pink and wet from chewing on
them, slick with sweat and stroking his dick, knuckles dragging against Jared's thigh.

"Fuck, Jay, so fucking pretty." Jensen opens the condom and rolls it on, which he somehow
manages to make look completely and utterly erotic instead of mechanical or clinical like it
normally does. He follows it with lube, stroking himself obscenely and licking his lips while he
stares into Jared's face. It's pretty much the hottest thing Jared has ever seen. Ever.

Jared scoots forward on his knees, sits up and closes his hand around Jensen's dick. Jared
lowers himself slowly. Jensen is thick and hot and the pain turns to pleasant burn as their bodies
fit together.

Jared holds as still as he can, takes slow breaths, and adjusts to the heat of Jensen filling him up
and pulling him under. He tries to think about distracting things because he's pretty sure the
second he looks down at Jensen, he's going to come. He thinks about pizza and Mike and the old
guy that works at the newsstand down the block from the store. But Jensen's stroking him slowly
and his hips are bucking almost imperceptibly up into Jared's body and it's all stupidly
overwhelming.

Jared starts to move. He braces his hands against Jensen's thighs and pushes himself up, and
lowers again. It's really a lot more work than he's used to during sex, but Jensen's making all
these amazing noises and digging his fingers into Jared's waist and helping him lift and thrusting
up into him and god, it is SO worth it. It's so worth it he can't even put it into WORDS. Jensen
braces his feet against the bed for leverage and pushes harder, deeper into Jared and Jared
growls low in his throat.

Jensen rubs his hands all over Jared's abs and hips, scratches short nails over Jared's skin and
Jared is suddenly reminded that he hasn't been to the gym since this entire thing started. He
sucks in his stomach and is thrown for a second, far far away.

Jensen reaches up and grabs at his bicep. "Hey, get the fuck back here, man." He moans as
Jared tightens down around him and Jared looks down into his face, leans down and kisses him.

"Sorry, only a second, back now."

Jensen smiles and kisses him again. "Where the fuck did you go in the middle of this?" His
thrusts are shallow, sharp, and they make Jared's back arch. Jensen hits Jared's prostate and he
almost collapses completely on top of Jensen.

"Fuck. Got worried I looked fat." Jared groans. He's really going to have to do something about
the way Jensen affects his mouth if they're going to keep having mind-blowing sex. It's really very
unacceptable to be blathering shit like that while you're getting fucked.

Jensen laughs from his belly, but it's clipped with a groan when Jared grinds down harder on his
cock. Jensen grabs Jared's ass and thrusts up into him harder, bites down on Jared's shoulder.
"Hottest - fuck - hottest son of a bitch I have ever seen."

Jared comes. Just like that. No real warning aside from his toes curling so hard he thinks they
might break. He comes all across Jensen's fucking perfect abs and chest and all but passes out
on top of him. He should probably be embarrassed that a compliment made him blow his load,
but he never claimed to be anything but narcissistic.

Jensen smiles against his skin, kisses him so hard their teeth click and thrusts up harder into
Jared. "So pretty when you come, Jay, never seen. Fucking perfect."

Jared groans and shifts until Jensen can thrust up into him more easily, thighs shaking and his
whole body tensing around Jensen. His hair's falling into his face, wet with sweat, and he's too
fucked out to do anything more than mouth down Jensen's neck and let Jensen pump into him.

Jared licks at the sweat in the hollow of Jensen's throat, tries to find the breath to speak. "Come
for me, Jen, come on" is all he can manage.

Jensen throws his head back against the pillows and groans out Jared's name, throat bared for
Jared's teeth and tongue. He tenses and comes, eyes screwed shut tight and Jared's teeth
latched to the pulse point in his neck. Jared keeps rocking them together, slow, lazy, come-down
aftershocks making him twitch and pant.

Jensen slides out of him and pulls off the condom, drops it over the side of the bed into what
Jared hopes is a trashcan. He really doesn't want Jensen to wreck his carpet. Jared moves over
and fits to Jensen's side, head pillowed on Jensen's impressively toned bicep.

Jensen shifts Jared closer to his side and presses a kiss to his forehead and they're both quiet for
a long time. Jared closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The air smells like sweat and sex
and come and Jensen, and it makes him feel kind of drunk and warm and sleepy.

"This is nice." Jensen's voice is sleepy, raw from groaning and panting.

"Cuddling?" Jared smiles and nuzzles his face against Jensen's shoulder. "Cuddling's great."
Jared is not a huge fan of cuddling normally. It's okay for awhile, but then you get all stuck
together with sweat and come and Jared wants a shower pretty quick. But somehow Jensen
makes it better. Perfect.

Jensen clears his throat. "I don't get to this part often."

Jared turns and looks into Jensen's face. He looks... sad. "It wasn't just me? You run out on all
your dates?" He says it light, jokingly, but Jensen's face falls a little more.

"Nah, just. Most guys don't stick around, you know?"

Jared's pretty sure Jensen can hear the gears in his head clicking into place. Guys leave Jensen.
They sleep with him and they leave. And they probably don't call. And Jensen gets hurt. Jensen's
a nice guy and Jared can only imagine the number of times he's been hurt like that. Jared
suddenly hates every guy Jensen has ever been with.

Jared shifts up so that he's looking down into Jensen's face. "Is that why you left? Were you
preemptively ending it?"

Jensen looks supremely uncomfortable. "I was trying to make it easy on you. Your place, so you
couldn't leave. I just thought--"

"You thought wrong."

"I know." He laughs a little. "I get that now."

Jared is furious at all of these nobodies and nothings who would hurt Jensen that way. "I just..."
He takes a deep breath. "Why would they leave? You're fucking... You're perfect."

"You keep saying that--"

"Because it's true." Jared can feel himself preparing to ramble. His mouth has big plans for itself
and Jared shudders to think about how stupid he's about to sound, but Jensen's here and he
can't stop it. "You're smart and you're funny and you care about things and you have these like,
deep thoughts that you aren't even pretentious about having." Jared's mouthing the words
against Jensen's neck and chest and he's wishing pretty desperately that he could shut himself
up. "You're good at video games and you think shaving's way too much work." Jared nuzzles
Jensen's chin, beard hair bristling against his cheek. "And you do your job because you like it.
And you have good taste in pretty much everything."

Jensen's cheeks and chest are flushed red and he's warm to the touch under Jared's lips. Jared
feels powerful and he's actually grateful for Jensen's oral filter-debilitating powers.

"Jay..."

"And you're the first person to talk to me like I have ideas that matter." Jared takes a deep breath
and smiles over Jensen's heart. "And you're the only one I have ever let call me Jay." Jared
sighs. He doesn't really approve of this whole raw, spread-bare emotional thing, but he thinks
maybe Jensen's worth it. Probably. "And you make me completely verbally retarded."

"You sounded pretty eloquent right there." Jensen's blushing and smiling and so obviously
avoiding the real topic at hand. It's pretty much the most adorable thing ever.

"Yes well, that's not the point. You make it utterly impossible for me to lie or like, guard my words.
It's very frustrating."

Jensen closes his hands on Jared's jaw and pulls him down into a slow, easy kiss. Jared's eyes
close and he pretty much melts into Jensen's arms. Jensen pulls back and kisses Jared's
forehead. "Maybe you don't have to lie to me."

Jared smiles and kisses Jensen again. "I'll just have to hope that's the case. Otherwise the fact
that I CAN'T is really going to be a problem."
+++


When Jared's cell phone starts playing "Leave Me Alone," Jared can practically hear Mike
screaming, "Get back here or I WILL castrate you."

He ignores the call and pulls the sheet tighter around their hips.

END