Fic: follow you until you love me (for j2_remix, semi-AU, NC-17)
HEY LOOK! A remix fic!
Title: Follow you until you love me
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Remixing: Listen Through Silence by lazy_daze
Summary: Jensen doesn’t like crowds, and he prefers to be in places with smaller groups of people he knows. He doesn’t think that’s unusual; he doesn’t think he needs a babysitter at public functions because of it.
Word count: 3659
Notes: Written for j2_remix, for which I was assigned the superfabulous lazy_daze! I hope to one day have as much porny talent in my whole body as Sam has in her little finger. Thanks to arlad, who is a doll for betaing on such short notice, and balefully for consoling me when I was freaking out about my assignment. <33
“Hey,” says a voice behind him, and Jensen shifts sideways, assuming it’s someone trying to get the bartender’s attention. But then there’s another, “Hey,” insistent and closer by, and Jensen turns to see a tall guy in a faded red t-shirt grinning wide and white at him. He’s gorgeous and vaguely familiar, but not in the way that makes Jensen think he’s a regular Vancouver bar-crawler.
“Hey,” he says uncertainly, and the guy’s smile doesn’t falter, but he steps back a little, no longer in touching distance, which Jensen appreciates, honestly.
“I’m Jared. Padalecki,” the guy says, and Jensen nods slowly. “We met at that network thing last year.”
It’s a hazy memory - Mike kept handing him girl drinks that went down too easy and made the crowd blur into something less upsetting and more hilarious - but Jensen’s pretty sure Jared was there, tall and blindingly enthusiastic. “Right,” Jensen affirms, “Hey. Sorry, man. How are you? What brings you to Canada?”
Jared’s grin softens. “Got a job up here. New show. ‘Supernatural.’”
“Right. The ghost-hunting thing. I almost went out for that.” Someone elbows up to the bar next to him, jostling Jensen and his Sam Adams, which Jared catches before it can tip over. Up in his personal space again, leaning over Jensen almost protectively, like the beer was a good excuse to get in close, Jared’s broad shoulders blocking half the bar from view.
“You should have,” Jared says. “I bet we would have been good together.”
The ambiguity of that statement throws Jensen off-balance, and he looks sharply up into Jared’s face. But Jared’s just smiling harmlessly at him. Jensen smiles back. “I have a two-year contract on Smallville, I didn’t want to run out on them.”
“Yeah, makes sense. So, what brings you out tonight? I didn’t think you were the kind of guy who hung out in bars.”
They met once, which makes it weird that Jared’s even considered what kind of guy he is, but he’s right. “I came out with some people from the show.” He gestures his bottle towards the pool table to his right, where Mike is trying to throw off Allie’s shot while Nick the new PA looks uncomfortable, like he isn’t sure whether to stop him.
“Can I join you guys?” asks Jared, and there’s no reason for the twinge of misgiving in Jensen’s belly; Jared’s a TV expat just like the rest of them, and he probably doesn’t know anyone in Vancouver yet.
“Sure,” says Jensen, grabbing the pitcher he’d been waiting for and pushing away from the bar. “Let me introduce you around.”
***
He and Jared start hanging out together. Jared’s friendly and easy to be around most of the time, and doesn’t subject Jensen to indignities like karaoke or mechanical bull riding competitions. They watch football at Jensen’s and drink cheap beer, and Jared wipes Cheeto dust on Jensen’s jeans. And if every once in a while Jensen catches Jared looking at him with a sharp, appraising expression on his face, it’s not so hard to write it off.
But then they start hanging out with other people; not just movie nights at Jensen’s but pool nights with the Smallville crew, a Labor Day barbeque at Tom’s, a network party in LA. And in those places it’s hard to ignore Jared’s strange looks and stranger behavior. He hangs close to Jensen in crowds, and Jensen would think Jared was shy if he wasn’t one of the most outgoing people Jensen has ever met. He talks to everyone, about everything. He’s smart and articulate and funny and definitely does not need Jensen as a shield in social situations. And yet, there he is, every time Jensen turns around, inserting himself into conversations, leaning over Jensen’s shoulder as he pauses at the bar, mysteriously appearing at his elbow as Jensen steers through a crowd. Like a bodyguard. And often it’s nice, having Jared deflect a little of the attention Jensen never wanted for himself, but even then, when Jensen thinks about it, it’s odd.
***
Sometime around Halloween, Jared starts coming by his place uninvited.
Not just ringing the buzzer and saying, “Hey, I bought more Chinese than even I can eat. Help me out so I don’t make myself sick.” Which Jared’s been doing since August. But just driving by, pausing outside Jensen’s building and looking. Jensen ducks away from his own windows, starts keeping the blinds down all the time. Whatever insight Jared’s trying to gain, he’s not going to get it like this.
Maybe it’s a prank, he tells himself. Maybe Jared was one of those kids who always took Mischief Night a little too far. Jensen and Josh had brought down a neighbor’s satellite dish with a badly thrown egg once; everyone’s entitled to some youthful indiscretions, even in their 20’s.
But then Halloween passes and all Jared does is come by with a plastic knife and a hockey mask demanding candy. He rings the buzzer and doesn’t even try to look all that scary. Jensen feels a flutter of nervousness anyway.
***
Jensen doesn’t like crowds, and he prefers to be in places with smaller groups of people he knows. He doesn’t like making small talk and he’s awkward with strangers touching him, but he doesn’t think that’s unusual; he doesn’t think he needs a babysitter at public functions because of it. And he definitely doesn’t think he deserves the giant kicked puppy look Jared gives him when Jensen points this out at Tom’s Christmas party.
“I just want to take care of you,” Jared says, something strangely tender in his voice. He’s backed against the door of Tom’s office, the only empty room in the house, and looks like Jensen is just about to punch him.
“I don’t need taking care of,” Jensen snaps, and weighs his next words carefully before hissing them out. “And I definitely don’t need you driving past my house at all hours. What the fuck, Jared?”
“I’m usually,” Jared stutters, “I’m usually so good at reading people. But you’re… I was just trying to give you what you needed.”
They stare at each other, and Jensen never knew how smooth Jared’s surface was until it crumbled. “What I needed?” Jensen asks. The words don’t fit together in a way that makes sense because who does that? Seriously.
Jared is silent for long enough that Jensen starts to wonder if he just won’t answer. Then slowly, he says, “When I saw you at that thing in LA, you just looked… unhappy. And like, you know, you were someone who deserved to be happy. I just, I wanted to make you happy. And keep away the things that made you unhappy.”
He sounds like a little kid, like he really believes the world divides up that way, like he really believes he can control it that much. Or at least control Jensen’s life that much. It doesn’t seem creepy when he says it. It seems… sweet.
“So driving past my house? Where did that fit in? That was never gonna do anything but freak me the fuck out.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice. I’m sorry, Jensen.”
Erica pushes open the door at that moment, and Jensen’s sure he looks guilty of something, even though none of this is his fault. “Have you seen Allie?” she asks Jensen, as if Jared isn’t even there.
Jensen shakes his head. “Not lately.”
“Okey-dokey,” she says, and ducks back out.
Jared is looking at him from under the mop of his hair. Jensen is still itchy with receding anger and fear, but he has no will to tell Jared off now. He gives a half-hearted smile and says, “Let’s go back to the party.”
***
Jared doesn’t call him for a week, doesn’t text him, doesn’t show up at his house. Jensen starts to feel a little lonely, checking his phone constantly when he’s on set, missing Jared’s chatter during Monday Night Football. “Can we talk?” Jensen texts finally.
“Good plan,” Jared texts back, and he calls at nine that night. “I just bought some mediocre red wine. Want to help me drink it?”
Jensen does. He’s got two glasses out on the coffee table when Jared arrives, and he showered and changed out of the Cowboys t-shirt with the holes at the neck. Jared looks tired, scrubbed clean after a long day in makeup, his hair damp and curly. Jensen was only working for a few hours today, standing in a fallow field yelling over the imagined sound of a CGI tornado. He feels like a slacker next to Jared, whose show has a regular cast of exactly two. “Sit down,” he tells Jared. “Have you eaten?”
When it looks like Jared has to think about the answer to that question, Jensen goes for the microwave lasagna in his freezer. When he turns back from the microwave, Jared’s watching him from the kitchen doorway. “I’m really sorry,” is the first thing Jared says, and Jensen wags his head in forgiveness before he can even remember what Jared’s sorry for.
“Did you do any other creepy, stalkery shit I should know about?”
“I didn’t mean it to be like that,” Jared protests quietly, but Jensen just raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I swear. I wanted to get to know you.”
“Then ask me the names of my childhood pets and what my favorite kind of cereal is. Don’t cruise past my house at night.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was weird,” Jared says, and then offers a self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t know how you felt about personal questions. I couldn’t figure you out, Jensen. That was the whole problem.”
“I like Wheaties,” says Jensen. “And when I was little we had a yellow lab named Butter.”
“Butter?”
“She was my aunt and uncle’s. Their kids named her, but they couldn’t take her when they moved overseas, so she lived with us.”
“So your porn star name is…”
“Butter Wendell.”
“Mine’s Millie Veracruz.”
Jensen can’t help it. He laughs, cracks up hard and has to bury his face in his hands to muffle himself. When he looks up, Jared is grinning, big and open like the first night they talked. And then, as soon as Jensen catches it, the grin fades.
“I like you, Jensen,” Jared tells him plaintively.
“I like you, too, Jared.”
Jared takes a tentative step closer. The microwave dings, but Jensen doesn’t turn towards it, doesn’t take his eyes off Jared.
“I know you don’t like crowds. You don’t like big public events. I’m not wrong about those things. Is it so bad that I wanted to help?” He takes another step, and his voice gets stronger. “Is it so bad that I wanted to take care of you?”
“I don’t need taking care of,” Jensen says, just like he had at Tom’s party, but meeker.
“Don’t you ever think you push yourself too much? That you shouldn’t have to try so hard at something that’s easy for other people? I could help. Take the pressure off.” He’s uncomfortably close now, their toes nearly touching on the linoleum. Some part of Jensen’s brain likes what Jared’s offering, and that must be the reason why he doesn’t scoot out of reach before Jared cups his chin in one big hand and kisses him. Jensen goes shock-still for a moment, breath held in tight, and then Jared licks his lower lip and whispers, “Let me,” and Jensen has to do something.
He turns just enough to break the kiss. “What are you doing?” he asks, like he doesn’t know.
“Kissing you.” Jared’s thumb slides along his lower lip. “Let me,” he says again, less like a plea and more like a command, and heat twists in Jensen’s belly.
He’s never had to lean up to kiss someone before, never been kissed hard and deep and sudden the way Jared does it, just opening up and taking Jensen’s mouth. Jared tugs Jensen’s lower lip with his teeth, swirls his tongue into Jensen’s mouth when Jensen gasps. Jensen lets him, does just like Jared asked, falling into the rhythm of the kiss, hitching a hand into Jared’s hair to keep him close. Jared’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades, fingers scraping down his back, making Jensen shiver. When Jared’s mouth moves from his, dipping down the side of his neck, Jensen can’t stop the helpless little noise he makes at the feeling of wet heat and a graze of teeth against his skin. Jared bends Jensen into his kisses, tips his head sideways and nuzzles down to Jensen’s collarbone. He latches on there, sucking slow in a way Jensen knows will leave a mark. He starts to calculate whether his normal t-shirts will cover the bruise Jared’s etching on his skin, but it’s hard to come to any conclusion when Jared’s mouth is still moving. He thinks maybe he doesn’t care.
When Jared makes his way back up to Jensen’s mouth, there’s a question on his lips. “Can I see your bedroom?” Jared murmurs, which is absurd because a) he’s been spying through Jensen’s windows for weeks, and b) it’s obvious that right now that’s not what Jared’s really interested in seeing.
“Want to check for pictures of my dog?” he asks, leaning towards the kitchen doorway, towards something is almost certainly going to be better than dog pictures.
“Not exactly,” Jared says, tugging at Jensen’s earlobe with his teeth. Jared’s hands slide over Jensen’s shoulders, down his arms, and then Jared’s fingers are tangling through his, holding tight. “Are you gonna let me take care of you?”
Jensen doesn’t quite know what that means, but the quiet insistence of Jared’s voice shoots straight to his dick. Whatever it is Jared’s offering, he thinks he wants it. “What are you going to do?” he whispers, Jared’s mouth tight against his pulse.
“Learn what you like,” Jared answers. “And give it to you. Over and over again.”
Jensen shivers and nods. His dick swells in his jeans, and the fierce heat in his belly grows. He tilts his head towards the doorway and says, “Down the hall.”
By the time they reach the bedroom door their shirts are in a hasty pile on the hall floor, and Jared is cursing Jensen’s button fly, stealing kisses every time he looks up. He nuzzles at Jensen’s mouth, herds him backwards towards the bed. Jensen hasn’t cleaned, and he trips on a stray shoe and tumbles onto the mattress. Jared towers over him, a silhouette in the dark of the bedroom, almost menacing in his sudden stillness. “What?” Jensen asks nervously.
“Just working you out still.”
Jensen folds his hands on his stomach. “Could you do that later?”
Jared grins, a flash of teeth. “I’m hoping I’ll have plenty of time.” He drops to his knees without another word, shoulders in between Jensen’s legs and starts tugging at his jeans. Jared nuzzles at him through his boxers, and Jensen’s mouth goes dry. “Has it been a long time since someone did this to you?” Jared asks, sounding almost hopeful, hands splayed across Jensen’s hips, holding him down. “You don’t bring anyone home with you.”
Jensen’s heart lurches into a faster beat. “You haven’t been here every night,” he says boldly, but there’s nothing behind it.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Jared says, but he’s looking intently at Jensen, like he isn’t quite sure. Jensen likes that Jared isn’t quite sure.
He shakes his head finally. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.” He cups one tentative hand around the back of Jared’s neck, weaving into the shorter, finer hair there.
“You wouldn’t trust anyone enough to bring them back here.” Jared slips his thumbs into the elastic of Jensen’s boxers, pulls them up and away and then down Jensen’s thighs. Jensen watches his cock spring up against his belly, his balls tightening because he can see Jared watching, too, licking his lips. “You don’t like people enough to have them over. Except me. You like me.” He blows a slow stream of air across the tight skin of Jensen’s cock, and Jensen gasps and holds tighter to Jared’s hair.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please. God, stop talking and suck me.”
Jared’s eyes shade over in shock, and then he grins and presses his lips to the leaking head of Jensen’s cock. Jensen makes a broken sound in the back of his throat and shivers towards the heat of Jared’s mouth. Jared’s lips part, and his tongue presses flat over Jensen’s slit, drags over the head of his cock, making Jensen’s hips twist. Jared wraps a hand around the base of Jensen’s cock, holds him firmly and strokes just once up its length. And then he’s breathing in and proving just how big his mouth is. He takes Jensen in, slick and sloppy with spit, and Jensen pushes up into Jared’s mouth. “Let me,” Jared repeats, and his hands span Jensen’s hips again, keeping him still. Jensen worries a little that that just makes him harder.
Jared makes little hungry noises as he sucks Jensen’s cock, shutting his eyes and slurping down the length of it. Jensen moans back, tugging at Jared’s hair as his balls tighten. He’s already about to come, Jared’s big hands kneading at his hips, Jared’s mouth wet and hot around his cock. Jared pulls off, mouths at Jensen’s balls for a moment, and then moves lower, the tip of his tongue circling Jensen’s asshole. Jensen gasps and shivers and doesn’t tell him to stop. Nobody’s ever licked him there before, but Jared’s tongue is slippery hot on his sensitive skin, and Jensen just wants more. He spreads his legs, lets Jared fit himself between them.
“I thought so,” Jared murmurs, teeth nipping at the inside of Jensen’s thigh.
Jensen doesn’t have to ask what he means as he lifts his hips towards Jared’s mouth. Jared sucks at Jensen’s little hole, scrapes his teeth across it, and Jensen can feel himself opening up for Jared’s tongue. His cock is fat and stiff and aching, dribbling precome against his belly, and he groans into the pillow.
“Want me to fuck you, don’t you, Jensen?” Jared says. “Maybe that’s what you’ve wanted all along.” A long finger slides into his ass beside Jared’s tongue, and Jensen makes a consenting noise. Jared’s wrong; Jensen’s never thought about that before, not even when his last girlfriend stuck a finger up his butt while she was blowing him. But he wants it now, doesn’t even feel shocked when Jared pulls a little packet of lube out of his jeans and rips it open with his teeth.
Jared pushes him onto his front, Jensen’s cock slicking the comforter with precome. “This is what I’ve wanted all along,” Jared tells him. “You all laid out for me, just waiting for my cock. I knew. I knew…” He nuzzles the back of Jensen’s neck, and Jensen tenses, apprehension and arousal colliding in his belly. Jared had watched him, followed him, done all sorts of things Jensen knows should make him think twice about letting Jared fuck him, but Jared’s mouth is gentle on his skin, Jared’s body curving protectively over his.
“Relax,” Jared whispers, mouthing over the tight muscles of Jensen’s shoulders. “Just want to take care of you. Just want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.” His fingers are slick with lube this time, sliding down around Jensen’s hole and then in, deeper than before, easier inside him.
Jensen shudders out a breath. He believes what Jared’s saying, and two of Jared’s fingers feel so good in his ass. “That’s it,” Jared sighs as Jensen relaxes. “That’s right.”
He doesn’t watch Jared undress, face buried in the pillows, doesn’t take a look at Jared’s cock before there’s the crinkle of a condom wrapper and it’s sliding up the crack of his ass, brushing latex-sheathed over his asshole. It feels impressive, too big to go where Jared wants to put it, and Jensen bites his lip. But Jared keeps talking, breathing out soft, soothing words, one hand dragging slow circles across Jensen’s lower back as he guides his dick with the other. It isn’t easy, and Jensen’s breath catches as Jared presses forward, a burning ache spreading at the base of his spine. The hand on his back is holding him still now. Jared rocks into him with measured thrusts, and Jensen feels caught, pinned.
And then Jared’s spreading more lube over Jensen’s hole, and caught and pinned turns startlingly good, hot and full and so sensitive that every movement makes him gasp. “Just like that,” Jared says. “Knew you’d like that.” Jensen whimpers under him, can’t help it, grinding into the mattress as Jared’s cock swells hot and thick inside him.
There’s no one touching Jensen’s dick when he comes, just the friction of the comforter as Jared’s fucks into him again and again. Jensen squirms into the wetness of his own come, his asshole squeezing tight around Jared’s cock. Jared groans, holds himself deep for a moment and then pulls all the way out, leaving Jensen’s hole gaping and empty. He rips off the condom and Jensen feels the hot spatter of Jared’s come against his back, watches every last drop oozing from Jared’s slit and wonders how it would taste. He expects he’ll find out.
Jared flops down next to him, rubbing his come into Jensen’s fevered skin before tipping Jensen’s face up with sticky fingers and kissing him deep. Jensen twists lazily into the kiss, his asshole throbbing with every beat of his heart, his whole body heavy and ready for sleep.
“Let me stay,” Jared says, a lift at the end that might be a question, and Jensen nods and kisses him again. As he’s drifting off, he reflects that anyone who cuddles as enthusiastically as Jared does is unlikely to be a serial killer.
~fin~
Title: Follow you until you love me
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Remixing: Listen Through Silence by lazy_daze
Summary: Jensen doesn’t like crowds, and he prefers to be in places with smaller groups of people he knows. He doesn’t think that’s unusual; he doesn’t think he needs a babysitter at public functions because of it.
Word count: 3659
Notes: Written for j2_remix, for which I was assigned the superfabulous lazy_daze! I hope to one day have as much porny talent in my whole body as Sam has in her little finger. Thanks to arlad, who is a doll for betaing on such short notice, and balefully for consoling me when I was freaking out about my assignment. <33
“Hey,” says a voice behind him, and Jensen shifts sideways, assuming it’s someone trying to get the bartender’s attention. But then there’s another, “Hey,” insistent and closer by, and Jensen turns to see a tall guy in a faded red t-shirt grinning wide and white at him. He’s gorgeous and vaguely familiar, but not in the way that makes Jensen think he’s a regular Vancouver bar-crawler.
“Hey,” he says uncertainly, and the guy’s smile doesn’t falter, but he steps back a little, no longer in touching distance, which Jensen appreciates, honestly.
“I’m Jared. Padalecki,” the guy says, and Jensen nods slowly. “We met at that network thing last year.”
It’s a hazy memory - Mike kept handing him girl drinks that went down too easy and made the crowd blur into something less upsetting and more hilarious - but Jensen’s pretty sure Jared was there, tall and blindingly enthusiastic. “Right,” Jensen affirms, “Hey. Sorry, man. How are you? What brings you to Canada?”
Jared’s grin softens. “Got a job up here. New show. ‘Supernatural.’”
“Right. The ghost-hunting thing. I almost went out for that.” Someone elbows up to the bar next to him, jostling Jensen and his Sam Adams, which Jared catches before it can tip over. Up in his personal space again, leaning over Jensen almost protectively, like the beer was a good excuse to get in close, Jared’s broad shoulders blocking half the bar from view.
“You should have,” Jared says. “I bet we would have been good together.”
The ambiguity of that statement throws Jensen off-balance, and he looks sharply up into Jared’s face. But Jared’s just smiling harmlessly at him. Jensen smiles back. “I have a two-year contract on Smallville, I didn’t want to run out on them.”
“Yeah, makes sense. So, what brings you out tonight? I didn’t think you were the kind of guy who hung out in bars.”
They met once, which makes it weird that Jared’s even considered what kind of guy he is, but he’s right. “I came out with some people from the show.” He gestures his bottle towards the pool table to his right, where Mike is trying to throw off Allie’s shot while Nick the new PA looks uncomfortable, like he isn’t sure whether to stop him.
“Can I join you guys?” asks Jared, and there’s no reason for the twinge of misgiving in Jensen’s belly; Jared’s a TV expat just like the rest of them, and he probably doesn’t know anyone in Vancouver yet.
“Sure,” says Jensen, grabbing the pitcher he’d been waiting for and pushing away from the bar. “Let me introduce you around.”
***
He and Jared start hanging out together. Jared’s friendly and easy to be around most of the time, and doesn’t subject Jensen to indignities like karaoke or mechanical bull riding competitions. They watch football at Jensen’s and drink cheap beer, and Jared wipes Cheeto dust on Jensen’s jeans. And if every once in a while Jensen catches Jared looking at him with a sharp, appraising expression on his face, it’s not so hard to write it off.
But then they start hanging out with other people; not just movie nights at Jensen’s but pool nights with the Smallville crew, a Labor Day barbeque at Tom’s, a network party in LA. And in those places it’s hard to ignore Jared’s strange looks and stranger behavior. He hangs close to Jensen in crowds, and Jensen would think Jared was shy if he wasn’t one of the most outgoing people Jensen has ever met. He talks to everyone, about everything. He’s smart and articulate and funny and definitely does not need Jensen as a shield in social situations. And yet, there he is, every time Jensen turns around, inserting himself into conversations, leaning over Jensen’s shoulder as he pauses at the bar, mysteriously appearing at his elbow as Jensen steers through a crowd. Like a bodyguard. And often it’s nice, having Jared deflect a little of the attention Jensen never wanted for himself, but even then, when Jensen thinks about it, it’s odd.
***
Sometime around Halloween, Jared starts coming by his place uninvited.
Not just ringing the buzzer and saying, “Hey, I bought more Chinese than even I can eat. Help me out so I don’t make myself sick.” Which Jared’s been doing since August. But just driving by, pausing outside Jensen’s building and looking. Jensen ducks away from his own windows, starts keeping the blinds down all the time. Whatever insight Jared’s trying to gain, he’s not going to get it like this.
Maybe it’s a prank, he tells himself. Maybe Jared was one of those kids who always took Mischief Night a little too far. Jensen and Josh had brought down a neighbor’s satellite dish with a badly thrown egg once; everyone’s entitled to some youthful indiscretions, even in their 20’s.
But then Halloween passes and all Jared does is come by with a plastic knife and a hockey mask demanding candy. He rings the buzzer and doesn’t even try to look all that scary. Jensen feels a flutter of nervousness anyway.
***
Jensen doesn’t like crowds, and he prefers to be in places with smaller groups of people he knows. He doesn’t like making small talk and he’s awkward with strangers touching him, but he doesn’t think that’s unusual; he doesn’t think he needs a babysitter at public functions because of it. And he definitely doesn’t think he deserves the giant kicked puppy look Jared gives him when Jensen points this out at Tom’s Christmas party.
“I just want to take care of you,” Jared says, something strangely tender in his voice. He’s backed against the door of Tom’s office, the only empty room in the house, and looks like Jensen is just about to punch him.
“I don’t need taking care of,” Jensen snaps, and weighs his next words carefully before hissing them out. “And I definitely don’t need you driving past my house at all hours. What the fuck, Jared?”
“I’m usually,” Jared stutters, “I’m usually so good at reading people. But you’re… I was just trying to give you what you needed.”
They stare at each other, and Jensen never knew how smooth Jared’s surface was until it crumbled. “What I needed?” Jensen asks. The words don’t fit together in a way that makes sense because who does that? Seriously.
Jared is silent for long enough that Jensen starts to wonder if he just won’t answer. Then slowly, he says, “When I saw you at that thing in LA, you just looked… unhappy. And like, you know, you were someone who deserved to be happy. I just, I wanted to make you happy. And keep away the things that made you unhappy.”
He sounds like a little kid, like he really believes the world divides up that way, like he really believes he can control it that much. Or at least control Jensen’s life that much. It doesn’t seem creepy when he says it. It seems… sweet.
“So driving past my house? Where did that fit in? That was never gonna do anything but freak me the fuck out.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice. I’m sorry, Jensen.”
Erica pushes open the door at that moment, and Jensen’s sure he looks guilty of something, even though none of this is his fault. “Have you seen Allie?” she asks Jensen, as if Jared isn’t even there.
Jensen shakes his head. “Not lately.”
“Okey-dokey,” she says, and ducks back out.
Jared is looking at him from under the mop of his hair. Jensen is still itchy with receding anger and fear, but he has no will to tell Jared off now. He gives a half-hearted smile and says, “Let’s go back to the party.”
***
Jared doesn’t call him for a week, doesn’t text him, doesn’t show up at his house. Jensen starts to feel a little lonely, checking his phone constantly when he’s on set, missing Jared’s chatter during Monday Night Football. “Can we talk?” Jensen texts finally.
“Good plan,” Jared texts back, and he calls at nine that night. “I just bought some mediocre red wine. Want to help me drink it?”
Jensen does. He’s got two glasses out on the coffee table when Jared arrives, and he showered and changed out of the Cowboys t-shirt with the holes at the neck. Jared looks tired, scrubbed clean after a long day in makeup, his hair damp and curly. Jensen was only working for a few hours today, standing in a fallow field yelling over the imagined sound of a CGI tornado. He feels like a slacker next to Jared, whose show has a regular cast of exactly two. “Sit down,” he tells Jared. “Have you eaten?”
When it looks like Jared has to think about the answer to that question, Jensen goes for the microwave lasagna in his freezer. When he turns back from the microwave, Jared’s watching him from the kitchen doorway. “I’m really sorry,” is the first thing Jared says, and Jensen wags his head in forgiveness before he can even remember what Jared’s sorry for.
“Did you do any other creepy, stalkery shit I should know about?”
“I didn’t mean it to be like that,” Jared protests quietly, but Jensen just raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I swear. I wanted to get to know you.”
“Then ask me the names of my childhood pets and what my favorite kind of cereal is. Don’t cruise past my house at night.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was weird,” Jared says, and then offers a self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t know how you felt about personal questions. I couldn’t figure you out, Jensen. That was the whole problem.”
“I like Wheaties,” says Jensen. “And when I was little we had a yellow lab named Butter.”
“Butter?”
“She was my aunt and uncle’s. Their kids named her, but they couldn’t take her when they moved overseas, so she lived with us.”
“So your porn star name is…”
“Butter Wendell.”
“Mine’s Millie Veracruz.”
Jensen can’t help it. He laughs, cracks up hard and has to bury his face in his hands to muffle himself. When he looks up, Jared is grinning, big and open like the first night they talked. And then, as soon as Jensen catches it, the grin fades.
“I like you, Jensen,” Jared tells him plaintively.
“I like you, too, Jared.”
Jared takes a tentative step closer. The microwave dings, but Jensen doesn’t turn towards it, doesn’t take his eyes off Jared.
“I know you don’t like crowds. You don’t like big public events. I’m not wrong about those things. Is it so bad that I wanted to help?” He takes another step, and his voice gets stronger. “Is it so bad that I wanted to take care of you?”
“I don’t need taking care of,” Jensen says, just like he had at Tom’s party, but meeker.
“Don’t you ever think you push yourself too much? That you shouldn’t have to try so hard at something that’s easy for other people? I could help. Take the pressure off.” He’s uncomfortably close now, their toes nearly touching on the linoleum. Some part of Jensen’s brain likes what Jared’s offering, and that must be the reason why he doesn’t scoot out of reach before Jared cups his chin in one big hand and kisses him. Jensen goes shock-still for a moment, breath held in tight, and then Jared licks his lower lip and whispers, “Let me,” and Jensen has to do something.
He turns just enough to break the kiss. “What are you doing?” he asks, like he doesn’t know.
“Kissing you.” Jared’s thumb slides along his lower lip. “Let me,” he says again, less like a plea and more like a command, and heat twists in Jensen’s belly.
He’s never had to lean up to kiss someone before, never been kissed hard and deep and sudden the way Jared does it, just opening up and taking Jensen’s mouth. Jared tugs Jensen’s lower lip with his teeth, swirls his tongue into Jensen’s mouth when Jensen gasps. Jensen lets him, does just like Jared asked, falling into the rhythm of the kiss, hitching a hand into Jared’s hair to keep him close. Jared’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades, fingers scraping down his back, making Jensen shiver. When Jared’s mouth moves from his, dipping down the side of his neck, Jensen can’t stop the helpless little noise he makes at the feeling of wet heat and a graze of teeth against his skin. Jared bends Jensen into his kisses, tips his head sideways and nuzzles down to Jensen’s collarbone. He latches on there, sucking slow in a way Jensen knows will leave a mark. He starts to calculate whether his normal t-shirts will cover the bruise Jared’s etching on his skin, but it’s hard to come to any conclusion when Jared’s mouth is still moving. He thinks maybe he doesn’t care.
When Jared makes his way back up to Jensen’s mouth, there’s a question on his lips. “Can I see your bedroom?” Jared murmurs, which is absurd because a) he’s been spying through Jensen’s windows for weeks, and b) it’s obvious that right now that’s not what Jared’s really interested in seeing.
“Want to check for pictures of my dog?” he asks, leaning towards the kitchen doorway, towards something is almost certainly going to be better than dog pictures.
“Not exactly,” Jared says, tugging at Jensen’s earlobe with his teeth. Jared’s hands slide over Jensen’s shoulders, down his arms, and then Jared’s fingers are tangling through his, holding tight. “Are you gonna let me take care of you?”
Jensen doesn’t quite know what that means, but the quiet insistence of Jared’s voice shoots straight to his dick. Whatever it is Jared’s offering, he thinks he wants it. “What are you going to do?” he whispers, Jared’s mouth tight against his pulse.
“Learn what you like,” Jared answers. “And give it to you. Over and over again.”
Jensen shivers and nods. His dick swells in his jeans, and the fierce heat in his belly grows. He tilts his head towards the doorway and says, “Down the hall.”
By the time they reach the bedroom door their shirts are in a hasty pile on the hall floor, and Jared is cursing Jensen’s button fly, stealing kisses every time he looks up. He nuzzles at Jensen’s mouth, herds him backwards towards the bed. Jensen hasn’t cleaned, and he trips on a stray shoe and tumbles onto the mattress. Jared towers over him, a silhouette in the dark of the bedroom, almost menacing in his sudden stillness. “What?” Jensen asks nervously.
“Just working you out still.”
Jensen folds his hands on his stomach. “Could you do that later?”
Jared grins, a flash of teeth. “I’m hoping I’ll have plenty of time.” He drops to his knees without another word, shoulders in between Jensen’s legs and starts tugging at his jeans. Jared nuzzles at him through his boxers, and Jensen’s mouth goes dry. “Has it been a long time since someone did this to you?” Jared asks, sounding almost hopeful, hands splayed across Jensen’s hips, holding him down. “You don’t bring anyone home with you.”
Jensen’s heart lurches into a faster beat. “You haven’t been here every night,” he says boldly, but there’s nothing behind it.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Jared says, but he’s looking intently at Jensen, like he isn’t quite sure. Jensen likes that Jared isn’t quite sure.
He shakes his head finally. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.” He cups one tentative hand around the back of Jared’s neck, weaving into the shorter, finer hair there.
“You wouldn’t trust anyone enough to bring them back here.” Jared slips his thumbs into the elastic of Jensen’s boxers, pulls them up and away and then down Jensen’s thighs. Jensen watches his cock spring up against his belly, his balls tightening because he can see Jared watching, too, licking his lips. “You don’t like people enough to have them over. Except me. You like me.” He blows a slow stream of air across the tight skin of Jensen’s cock, and Jensen gasps and holds tighter to Jared’s hair.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please. God, stop talking and suck me.”
Jared’s eyes shade over in shock, and then he grins and presses his lips to the leaking head of Jensen’s cock. Jensen makes a broken sound in the back of his throat and shivers towards the heat of Jared’s mouth. Jared’s lips part, and his tongue presses flat over Jensen’s slit, drags over the head of his cock, making Jensen’s hips twist. Jared wraps a hand around the base of Jensen’s cock, holds him firmly and strokes just once up its length. And then he’s breathing in and proving just how big his mouth is. He takes Jensen in, slick and sloppy with spit, and Jensen pushes up into Jared’s mouth. “Let me,” Jared repeats, and his hands span Jensen’s hips again, keeping him still. Jensen worries a little that that just makes him harder.
Jared makes little hungry noises as he sucks Jensen’s cock, shutting his eyes and slurping down the length of it. Jensen moans back, tugging at Jared’s hair as his balls tighten. He’s already about to come, Jared’s big hands kneading at his hips, Jared’s mouth wet and hot around his cock. Jared pulls off, mouths at Jensen’s balls for a moment, and then moves lower, the tip of his tongue circling Jensen’s asshole. Jensen gasps and shivers and doesn’t tell him to stop. Nobody’s ever licked him there before, but Jared’s tongue is slippery hot on his sensitive skin, and Jensen just wants more. He spreads his legs, lets Jared fit himself between them.
“I thought so,” Jared murmurs, teeth nipping at the inside of Jensen’s thigh.
Jensen doesn’t have to ask what he means as he lifts his hips towards Jared’s mouth. Jared sucks at Jensen’s little hole, scrapes his teeth across it, and Jensen can feel himself opening up for Jared’s tongue. His cock is fat and stiff and aching, dribbling precome against his belly, and he groans into the pillow.
“Want me to fuck you, don’t you, Jensen?” Jared says. “Maybe that’s what you’ve wanted all along.” A long finger slides into his ass beside Jared’s tongue, and Jensen makes a consenting noise. Jared’s wrong; Jensen’s never thought about that before, not even when his last girlfriend stuck a finger up his butt while she was blowing him. But he wants it now, doesn’t even feel shocked when Jared pulls a little packet of lube out of his jeans and rips it open with his teeth.
Jared pushes him onto his front, Jensen’s cock slicking the comforter with precome. “This is what I’ve wanted all along,” Jared tells him. “You all laid out for me, just waiting for my cock. I knew. I knew…” He nuzzles the back of Jensen’s neck, and Jensen tenses, apprehension and arousal colliding in his belly. Jared had watched him, followed him, done all sorts of things Jensen knows should make him think twice about letting Jared fuck him, but Jared’s mouth is gentle on his skin, Jared’s body curving protectively over his.
“Relax,” Jared whispers, mouthing over the tight muscles of Jensen’s shoulders. “Just want to take care of you. Just want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.” His fingers are slick with lube this time, sliding down around Jensen’s hole and then in, deeper than before, easier inside him.
Jensen shudders out a breath. He believes what Jared’s saying, and two of Jared’s fingers feel so good in his ass. “That’s it,” Jared sighs as Jensen relaxes. “That’s right.”
He doesn’t watch Jared undress, face buried in the pillows, doesn’t take a look at Jared’s cock before there’s the crinkle of a condom wrapper and it’s sliding up the crack of his ass, brushing latex-sheathed over his asshole. It feels impressive, too big to go where Jared wants to put it, and Jensen bites his lip. But Jared keeps talking, breathing out soft, soothing words, one hand dragging slow circles across Jensen’s lower back as he guides his dick with the other. It isn’t easy, and Jensen’s breath catches as Jared presses forward, a burning ache spreading at the base of his spine. The hand on his back is holding him still now. Jared rocks into him with measured thrusts, and Jensen feels caught, pinned.
And then Jared’s spreading more lube over Jensen’s hole, and caught and pinned turns startlingly good, hot and full and so sensitive that every movement makes him gasp. “Just like that,” Jared says. “Knew you’d like that.” Jensen whimpers under him, can’t help it, grinding into the mattress as Jared’s cock swells hot and thick inside him.
There’s no one touching Jensen’s dick when he comes, just the friction of the comforter as Jared’s fucks into him again and again. Jensen squirms into the wetness of his own come, his asshole squeezing tight around Jared’s cock. Jared groans, holds himself deep for a moment and then pulls all the way out, leaving Jensen’s hole gaping and empty. He rips off the condom and Jensen feels the hot spatter of Jared’s come against his back, watches every last drop oozing from Jared’s slit and wonders how it would taste. He expects he’ll find out.
Jared flops down next to him, rubbing his come into Jensen’s fevered skin before tipping Jensen’s face up with sticky fingers and kissing him deep. Jensen twists lazily into the kiss, his asshole throbbing with every beat of his heart, his whole body heavy and ready for sleep.
“Let me stay,” Jared says, a lift at the end that might be a question, and Jensen nods and kisses him again. As he’s drifting off, he reflects that anyone who cuddles as enthusiastically as Jared does is unlikely to be a serial killer.
~fin~