Say You're Mine (J2, NC-17) 1/7
When Jared Padalecki is twenty-six years, six months, twelve days and just over sixteen hours old, he has a revelation.
It’s not because Adrianne gets down on one knee and holds out a sparkling engagement ring - that part’s really not that surprising. Well, the kneeling part is, because Jared’s always thought one of the perks of being in a lesbian relationship is that you don’t have to do the traditional gender roles thing, but whatever, Allie’s totally going to love it. But no, Adrianne finally getting up the guts to ask Allie to marry her after eight years of dating is not really that shocking. What is, though, is just how jealous it makes Jared.
Not because he’s in love with Adrianne or anything like that. She’s been his best friend since the first day of college (when she said “Orientation blows. Want to skip and get some ice cream?” and won Jared’s heart in a totally platonic way), and besides that, she’s head over heels for Allie, and they have the kind of freakishly perfect relationship that would be sickening if it wasn’t so adorable. It’s more that he wants what she has - what they have. For some reason, the two of them making it official makes Jared realize just how much he wants that kind of love for himself. He wants someone to kiss and cuddle and wake up to every day. He wants to be lovey-dovey and gooey-sweet. He wants to stand at the kitchen counter half-awake and half-dressed and share a cup of coffee with someone who knows him so well they don’t have to say a word.
Well, actually, he kind of does that last one with Adrianne and Allie already, but that’s just because they know exactly how he likes his coffee after eight years, and none of them are really morning people, so there’s an apartment-wide ban on verbal communication before eight a.m. But still.
Because Jared dates and everything. He’s had girlfriends (in high school, when he was still kind of clueless) and boyfriends (in college, when the proverbial light bulb finally came on) and everything in between - friends, friends with benefits, one-night-stands, two-week flings, unrequited love, unrequited lust, drunken hook-ups, mistakes and missed opportunities - the works. He just hasn’t found that one person that puts an end to it. That person that makes him say, “Finally,” the one that means he’s stopped wandering and finally arrived.
The problem is, he’s not even sure if that person exists in the first place.
“It’s not like I’m asking for much,” he tells Adrianne as she lines candles up along the mantle. “Okay, so I do have some requirements, but they’re not impossible.”
“Oh, totally,” Adrianne says. “Complete and total perfection? Not asking for much at all.”
“He doesn’t have to be totally perfect,” Jared argues. “Just, you know. In the ballpark would be nice. Close enough to visit occasionally.”
Jared thinks the look Adrianne gives him can probably best be described as pitying, but he makes a point of not translating her faces during arguments. It helps him convince himself he’s right.
“Jared, if there was actually a man who met your requirements, you wouldn’t even be able to date him.”
Jared makes a face of his own. “Are you saying I’m not good enough for perfect?”
Adrianne sighs, nearly blowing out the candle she just lit. “I’m saying that he’d be too busy winning Nobel prizes or saving the world or being cloned. It might help if your standards weren’t roughly the height of the Empire State Building.”
“But then I’d be settling,” Jared points out. “Aren’t I a little young for that? I thought I was supposed to have wrinkles first. Or a beer gut or saggy manboobs.”
Adrianne sets the lighter down. “Okay, listen. You are never, ever allowed to repeat this to anyone else, but here’s the truth: everyone settles.”
“What? No. You’re not settling for Allie.”
“A little,” Adrianne says, and Jared maybe panics a little, because what the fuck. Allie and Adrianne are like, the foundation his belief in love is built on. If they’re not really as in love as he thought, then his whole world’s crumbling.
“Not like that,” Adrianne says hastily. “Not in a bad way. Just, like - well, okay. When I was fourteen I had this massive, ridiculous crush on Jennifer Aniston. If I had to imagine the perfect girlfriend, it would have been her.”
She unwraps a bouquet of flowers and dumps them in a vase, fanning them out. “And Allie isn’t Jennifer Aniston.”
“Yeah, I kind of knew that,” Jared says.
“She’s not perfect,” Adrianne says. “That’s what I’m trying to say. She isn’t a figment of my teenage imagination or some kind of two-dimensional daydream. She does things that piss me off and she has freakishly cold toes and the occasional bad hair day.” She pinches off a browning leaf. “So, yeah. She’s not that perfect girlfriend I imagined.” She meets Jared’s eyes squarely. “But she’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and there’s no one else in the world I’d rather be with.”
“Not even Jennifer Aniston?”
“That’s what I’m trying to say. Even if the most perfect woman in the world walked up to me on the street and offered me a lifetime of happiness, I’d still pick Allie. She has faults, yes, but that just makes me love her even more.”
She tweaks one last stem, leaning back to take in the arrangement. When she turns to Jared, she raises an eyebrow at his silence. “What? What’s that face?”
“I’m pretty sure that to preserve my manhood I have to at least act like that’s disgustingly sappy,” Jared tells her. “But there’s this giant awww deep inside me that just won’t be smothered. I’m torn.”
Adrianne’s mouth twitches. “Wait, since when are you worried about your manhood?”
“Hey!”
“Okay, okay.” She slings an arm around his waist. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone you’re a big gooey marshmallow of a man.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s really just because everyone we know already knows it, but you’re welcome anyway,” she says with a smirk.
Jared glares at her. “It’s a good thing you’re getting engaged today and there’s some kind of universal law about being mean to almost-engaged people, or I’d have something very mean to say right now.”
“Sure you would,” Adrianne says, grinning. “Marshmallow.”
“I’ll have you know, I have a very mean side,” Jared tells her. “It’s legendary. People quake with fear. It’s very mean.”
“And I look forward to seeing it,” Adrianne replies. “Especially if it’s anything like that time you helped a lady carry her bags right after she budged in front of you in line. But right now I’m going to work my own well-developed mean side and kick you out before my girlfriend gets home.”
“Fine,” Jared says, sighing. “I’ll go. I’ll just keep on looking for Mr. Almost-Perfect and hope he’s not too busy saving the world or donating his DNA. Or out of my league.”
Adrianne pats him on the shoulder. “You do that.”
“’Kay. Good luck with the proposing,” Jared tells her. “And with the celebratory sex. Please don’t burn down the apartment or defile anything I eat or sleep on.”
Adrianne snorts. “What does that even leave?”
Jared grins. “I think there’s a corner of the bathroom floor that’s safe. Maybe the piano. And that beanbag chair in the cor - oh, nope. Tuna sandwich last week. Sorry.”
She shakes her head. “Just leave already, would you? Go hunt down Romeo and leave me to panic in peace.”
“Okay, okay,” Jared says, grabbing his coat and keys. “You totally don’t have anything to panic about, though,” he tells her, pulling Adrianne into a quick hug. “Allie’s going to say yes before you even get the question out.”
“Hope so.”
“Know so,” Jared says firmly. “The power of A-squared will not be denied.”
“You are such a geek,” Adrianne says fondly. “Now get out.” She shoves him toward the door.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. And who knows,” Jared calls over his shoulder, “I might come back with my own Mr. Right.”
It’s not likely, given that his plans for the night involve hanging out with his other best friend at a bar, but hope springs eternal and all that.
Well, until Jared gets to the bar and finds Mike already happily situated in the middle of a bachelorette party and realizes it’s going to be one of those nights. The ones where Mike says horribly inappropriate things to women who’ve had a few too many pina coladas and Jared tries to act like he doesn’t actually know Mike. Which is a lot harder than it sounds, because Mike has a bad habit of trying to pimp Jared out at every opportunity, and it’s not easy to act like he’s an innocent bystander when Mike’s throwing complete strangers at him. Literally, because Mike is prone to shoving the occasional guy into Jared’s path. He seems to think dating men is pretty much a contact sport.
He’s not totally wrong, it’s just like Jared sort of likes to meet people in a more stationary setting. Mike says it’s the perfect set-up (causing someone to spill their drink pretty much guarantees they’ll let you buy them another, which is a victory in Mike-land), but Jared generally likes to reserve full-body tackles for the second date. Or at least until after some flirting or eye contact or something.
Luckily, Mike’s too involved in the bachelorette party to worry much about getting Jared laid at the moment. Unluckily, this means Jared’s been ditched and has no one to talk to. He finds an empty booth near the bar and watches baseball on one of the TVs for a while, but even that gets boring after three beers and ten handfuls of peanuts. And Jared keeps thinking about Adrianne and Allie and what they’re doing.
Well, not the sex part, because that’d be kind of weird. Plus, he’s spent so much time around them over the years that he could probably picture it in extremely accurate detail at this point, which is not something he ever really wants to do. No, mostly he’s thinking about how right now they’re probably stupidly, deliriously happy and planning the rest of their lives together, right up until they’re old and gray, and Jared’s sitting in a bar eating peanuts and waiting for his Prince Charming to magically appear.
And it wasn’t really realistic to expect that his Mr. Right would just stroll through the door and introduce himself, or something. That would have been nice, but it’s not as easy as that - you can’t just wish for someone smart, gorgeous and funny to just fall into your lap.
But, strangely enough, that’s exactly how it happens.
Jared’s wondering just how soon he can go back to the apartment without seeing something potentially scarring when he hears Mike say, “Excuse me, large tray of girly drinks coming through!” and looks up just in time to see a guy step back out of the way, trip over Jared’s outstretched foot, and land squarely in his lap. Jared’s arm comes out automatically to stop his fall, and he’s already halfway through an apology and helping the guy up when he realizes that he’s got a lapful of extremely hot guy.
Like, scary gorgeous, and judging by the way he’s currently spread out all over Jared, also clearly very well put-together. “God, I’m so sorry,” the guy says. “That asshole nearly ran me over, but I didn’t mean to do a total backflop on you. Are you okay?”
It’s kind of worrying just how okay Jared is right now. “Um. Fine,” he manages, bobbing his head. “Fine. Yep.”
It isn’t until the guy says, “Um, can you - I’m kind of - “ that Jared realizes he’s got his fist clenched tightly in the back of the guy’s shirt and instead of helping him up he’s settled for staring hungrily.
“Oh, god, sorry,” he says, letting go. “Here, let me - “ He pushes the guy up to his feet, starting to follow and stand himself, but the guy picks that exact moment to turn around and nearly pitch them both over again. “Shit, sorry!” Jared says, grabbing his arms.
The guy throws out his hands to balance himself against Jared’s chest, and they sway there for a second, just trying to keep themselves standing. When it’s evident they’re not going down, the guy tilts his head up a little, and oh, god. They’re so close that Jared can count every adorable freckle on his extremely hot nose (and seriously, noses aren’t even hot - Jared’s pretty sure he’s never had a lustful thought about one before, or really any kind of thought) and Jared’s exhale is maybe a little shaky. “Um,” he says stupidly. “Hi.”
The guy blinks, then the corners of his mouth quirk up a little. “Hi. Thanks for catching me there. Both times, I mean.”
“Oh, sure,” Jared says. “No problem. You’re totally welcome.” He gives the guy his best grin, hoping it’s obvious just exactly how welcome this guy is.
The guy returns the smile, almost automatically like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but after a long moment he shakes himself a little and clears his throat, looking down.
Which is when Jared realizes he’s still holding the guy’s arms, keeping him pressed up against his chest, and while that’s pretty awesome, the two of them close enough to share body heat, it’s also a little awkward. He drops his hands, letting the guy put a little space between them.
But there’s no way he’s letting this guy go, not without at least getting his name and number and possibly his address (because Jared may have his pride, but he is definitely not above stalking, not if the ass involved is as fabulous as the one that landed on his lap), so he puts on his most charming smile and says, “I think a need another drink after all that excitement. Can I get you something?”
“I don’t think so,” the guy replies, which, okay, ouch. But before Jared can do more than process that rejection, the guy grins again and says, “That wouldn’t be fair, given the way you’ve saved me from myself twice already. I should be the one buying you a drink.”
Oh, hell yeah. “Well, if you insist,” Jared says, grinning.
“It only seems right,” the guy replies. “And I’m Jensen, by the way.”
“Jared.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jensen says, dragging out the handshake just a second longer than necessary, and Jared’s thinking it’s a little more than just nice.
And then Jensen turns around to lead the way to the bar, and oh, yeah. It’s definitely better than nice. This is shaping up to be the best night he’s had in a long, long time.
*
An hour later, Jared’s totally revised his opinion - this is looking like it might be the best night of his entire freaking life. Because one drink quickly turned into three and they’ve spent the past hour sharing the booth, talking and getting to know each other, and Jared’s pretty sure Jensen is completely and totally perfect.
Well, okay, not perfect perfect, because he’s real and all, but when it comes to all those standards everyone tells Jared are ridiculously high, Jensen blows them all out of the water. It’s just - god. Every time Jensen opens his mouth something comes out that makes Jared like him even more, and by the time they’re on their fourth beers and Jensen makes an offhand reference to Harry Potter (and then looks adorably embarrassed to have brought it up) Jared’s pretty sure they’re made for each other.
Because Jensen’s smart and funny and nice and freaking gorgeous, and Jared must have saved a herd of kittens or helped an entire senior center cross the road or done something pretty fucking awesome in a past life, because it’s looking like the universe has decided to gift wrap the man of his dreams and drop him right into his lap.
And best of all, Jensen definitely returns the interest. Jared wasn’t totally sure at first, thinking Jensen might be buying him a drink out of actual gratitude, but as they’ve gotten steadily more drunk he’s made it more and more clear that he’s into Jared, flirting and leaning closer and giving Jared that bright, happy smile, and yeah. Jared’s pretty much in heaven. If he can get Jensen’s number and a date next week before the end of the night, he’ll be golden.
Fate, however, has other plans. Mike gets kicked out of the bachelorette party around eleven (somewhere around the time he pitches a threesome to the bride-to-be and her maid of honor and finds out they’re sisters and take monogamy very seriously) and grabs Jared on his way back.
They’re standing in the bathroom - well, Mike’s standing as he tries to mop off the margaritas he’s currently wearing, Jared’s leaning against the wall enjoying the way the tiles are spinning slowly around him - and Mike throws a heap of sodden paper towels at the trash can with a disgruntled sigh. “At least someone’s getting laid tonight,” he says. “I still wish it was me, don’t get me wrong, but if I scored every single time you’d be crippled by self-doubt, so. I’ll take one for the team this time and let you be the successful one.”
It takes Jared’s fuzzy brain a long minute to realize exactly what Mike’s saying there (and to skate past the utter bullshit, because yeah. No way Mike gets lucky enough to give Jared a complex). “Wait, what? I’m getting laid?” This is news to him.
“Dude, you totally are,” Mike says firmly. “Guy’s practically drooling already - all you gotta do is seal the deal.” He claps Jared on the back.
“Do me proud, buddy.”
No way, Jared thinks to himself. There’s no way he’s that lucky. He already struck the jackpot just meeting Jensen. There’s no way fate would bend over backwards and hand him sex with Jensen, too. It’s just not possible.
And when he makes his way back out to the booth and finds it totally empty, he feels justified. Well, and pissed, because what the hell, who just takes off after a totally awesome night like that? - but definitely justified. He’s just about to go find Mike and rub his nose in Jared’s complete and utter failure when a couple things happen in rapid succession.
One is Jensen reappearing, because he pretty much comes out of nowhere - one second he’s MIA and the next he’s sliding into the booth next to Jared, holding two beers. And that’s another thing - he slides in next to Jared. Not a nice healthy distance across the table, but a close-enough-to-feel-the-very-well-developed-muscles-in-his-thighs close. And just when Jared’s adjusting to that fact (by which he really means adjusting himself in his pants, because jesus christ, having body parts he desperately wants to lick pressed up against him when he’s drunk and horny is the worst temptation ever), another thing happens.
The aforementioned drunkenness and horniness causes him to take a desperate gulp of beer in an attempt at distraction, and when he puts the glass down with an awkward thump, Jensen’s watching him. Not just looking, watching, eyes dark and mouth just slightly open, and Jared licks his lips without thinking, tasting foam on his tongue.
Jensen swallows hard. “You’re,” he breathes. “You’ve got - “ He makes a vague motion with his hand.
Jared blinks, not following, but then Jensen says, “Fuck,” and leans up, and before Jared can even move Jensen’s tongue is swiping across the corner of his mouth. It takes him a long second to react (mostly because he’s trying to remember how to fucking breathe) but when he opens his eyes (which he doesn’t even remember closing), Jensen’s watching him warily.
“You had, on your,” he says nonsensically, doing the hand-waving thing again, and that’s just - Jared just does not care. He reaches out, hands finding Jensen’s head and jaw, and pulls him into a kiss. Jensen reacts immediately, tiny moan slipping out of his mouth as he presses up into it, licking at Jared’s mouth like he’s desperate to taste it, and god, Jared doesn’t even care that they’re making out in the middle of a bar, he just wants more. He doesn’t care about anything else at this point - not Mike, wherever he is, not the rest of the people in the bar, not even air (because seriously, fuck that breathing shit, he’s making out with the hottest guy he’s ever seen). He gets a hand on Jensen’s back, pulling him in even closer, half in his lap, and he’s ready to just suffocate right there and die an extremely happy man.
Jensen saves him, though, pulling back to laugh a little breathlessly. “God, didn’t think you’d ever,” he says.
“Yeah?” is all Jared can think to say.
“Yeah,” Jensen replies, voice sliding low. He bites his lip, looking up at Jared from under those insanely long lashes. “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Go back to my place?”
There’s no maybe about it. Hell, there’s no anything about it, there’s no way Jared’s saying anything but yes please to a question like that.
Actually, all he gets out is a whimper, but Jensen seems to get the idea. He grins and wraps a hand in the collar of Jared’s shirt, tugging him up and out of the booth. He keeps his hand twisted there the whole way across the bar, dragging Jared behind him, and Jared barely has time to grin at the salute Mike tosses him before they’re through the door.
The cab ride is kind of interesting, in the sense that what’s probably a ten minute ride feels like it takes an hour. But that’s mostly because Jensen has trouble remembering just what street he lives on, which is in turn mostly because Jared can’t stop sucking on his neck long enough to let him have a coherent thought.
He can’t help it - it’s a very nice neck. And it’s currently all the skin he can get at, so he’s making do until he can strip Jensen and spread him out on his bed like he wants to, have him all laid out for Jared’s mouth and hands.
“Oh, god,” Jensen moans, “You’re going to kill me before we get there if you keep fucking talking like that,” and huh. Apparently he said that part out loud.
“You definitely did,” the cabbie tells him dryly. “Really loud.”
Thankfully, that’s when they pull up to a building Jensen claims is definitely his, so Jared doesn’t actually have to die of embarrassment, he just has to throw a few too many tens at the guy and climb out the back as fast as he can.
They stumble in the front door and down a hallway, and then Jensen’s laughing as he tries to get the door open, pressed up against the jamb, and Jared can’t help framing Jensen’s hips with his hands, pushing up behind him. Jensen swears and fumbles the key. “God, you’ve gotta - let me get inside, at least,” he says, shuddering as Jared licks a path up his neck and kisses the skin behind his ear.
Jared obediently lets go, but as soon as Jensen’s got the key turning in the lock and the door opens, he’s back behind him again, hurrying Jensen inside. He doesn’t pay much attention to the apartment around him - there’ll be plenty of time for that later - just steers Jensen toward the first flat surface he can find. It ends up being a couch, which is not as good as a bed, but whatever. He’s pretty sure he’s going to want to have sex with Jensen on just about every surface in this apartment, so they might as well get the couch out of the way while they’re right here.
And the couch is plenty nice, once he pushes Jensen down on it and climbs on top of him. They wrestle out of their jackets, getting one layer out of the way, and when Jared settles back down he ends up sliding perfectly between Jensen’s spread legs, and god, that’s good. They fit together perfectly, Jensen’s cock pressing up against Jared’s just right, and for a second Jared can’t believe that this is actually happening. That he actually met a guy that’s pretty much perfect in every way that matters to him, that said guy is single and interested too, and that as soon as Jared can get Jensen out of the rest of his clothes, there’s going to be some very hot sex going on. Jared didn’t get rejected or make an ass of himself or use a horribly clichéd pickup line (even if that’s more a Mike thing anyway), and there wasn’t even that awkward period of figuring out who likes who how much and what to do about it. If he and Jensen can just get married tomorrow and live happily ever after, Jared’s life will be pretty much made.
But first, sex. And since it’s been kind of a while and he’s really looking forward to seeing Jensen naked, Jared gets to work on that, pulling himself away from Jensen’s mouth to suck a line of kisses down his neck before he pushes Jensen’s shirt up and continues his path south.
But half a second after he licks around Jensen’s bellybutton, Jensen swears and arches up sharply. And Jared’s good, yeah, but he barely even did anything, so he’s kind of confused until Jensen works a hand under him and yanks a vibrating cell phone out of his back pocket. He barely spares a glance at the screen before tossing it on the coffee table, though, sliding both hands into Jared’s hair, and Jared turns back to mouthing the thin skin over Jensen’s hip while his hands are busy at his belt buckle.
But he’s barely got his fingers around the leather before the phone buzzes to life on the table, doing a little slide toward the edge with each vibration, and Jensen lets out a frustrated breath. “Sorry, god,” he says, flinging a hand out to grab the phone. “Just let me make sure it’s not an emergency or something.” He pries the phone open and answers it with a growled, “Are you dying?”
Either the person on the other end says no or they’re dying very slowly, because Jensen snaps, “Then call me tomorrow,” and flips the phone shut, dropping it on the floor next to the couch. Jared grins and ducks in for a kiss, but he barely gets his mouth on Jensen’s before the phone goes off again.
“Jesusfuck,” Jensen swears, jerking back. “Is the whole fucking universe out to stop me getting laid?”
Jared has to laugh a little, because it’s kind of funny, in a way where some anonymous person is managing to cockblock him from what could be miles away. Frustrating as all hell, but a little funny. He hides his smile in Jensen’s neck when Jensen stretches to grab the phone.
“What,” is Jensen’s answer this time. He listens for a long second as Jared nuzzles into his neck, his own hand trailing absent-mindedly down Jared’s back, and then he tenses a little under Jared. “Oh. Shit. Okay, well, just - no, don’t do that. Just push everything back and I’ll call you first thing tomorrow. I’ll deal with it then.”
There’s a pause where Jared sucks a hickey into his neck, and when Jensen says, “No, not now, asshole, I’m kind of busy,” there’s a wobble in his voice under the annoyance. Jared grins, biting gently at damp skin, and shifts his hips nice and slow.
“Fucking duh,” Jensen gasps into the phone. “What the hell did you think you were interrupting?” He pushes up against Jared, a sexy little half-groan slipping out, and then he says, “Fuck, why the fuck am I even - “ and hangs up again, throwing the phone halfway across the room.
Jared kisses his chin. “Problem?”
“No,” Jensen says, tipping his head back. “I mean, yeah, but it can wait.”
“Sure?”
Jensen’s eyes lock on his, dark and hooded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
And it’s not like Jared’s going to say no to that. If Jensen’s problem isn’t urgent enough to need immediate attention, then he’s going to do his best to get Jensen’s mind off it and onto something much more pleasant. Like getting his hand up underneath Jensen’s shirt and feeling Jensen’s stomach muscles tense under his fingers as he skims them upward, for one thing. And kissing, because when is kissing not good. And then the noise Jensen makes when he lets his hand drift back down and steal a friendly grope before landing on his belt buckle, because it’s right after that that Jensen pulls back for a second to say, “Maybe we should, uh. Move this to the bedroom.”
And Jared’s totally on board with that plan, because walking and trying to undress each other is kind of complicated and they mostly end up stumbling into walls and doorframes and making out in between every article of clothing that actually comes off. Finally, Jensen manages to get them both inside the bedroom and shoves Jared onto the bed before kicking his pants off and climbing on himself.
Which is good, because the bed’s a lot wider than the couch and they have a lot more room to work with, and then there’s the whole part where they’re both almost totally naked and skin-to-skin contact is awesome, and really, it’s all just pretty much awesome. Well, until Jensen leans over to grab the necessary supplies from the drawer of the nightstand, because what should be a two-second operation stretches out into at least two minutes of digging around in the dark.
“Shit, sorry, I can’t find - I know it’s in here,” Jensen says, fishing around before he drops something onto the carpet. “Fuck. Hang on.” He climbs off Jared, flicking on the bedside lamp. “God, I’m sorry,” he mutters, bending over to look all the way back in the drawer. “First the phone that won’t stop ringing, then random shit about my personal problems, and now I can’t find the fucking lube. If one of us gets injured in the next two seconds, this will officially be the most awkward one-night-stand ever.”
And that’s where Jared’s heart drops, right along with his stomach. “A - what?” he says dumbly. “That’s what this is?”
“Well, yeah,” Jensen says absently. “I mean, we’ve known each other for a grand total of two hours and we came back to my apartment for a drunken fuck. That’s, like, the definition of a one-night-stand. Ha! I found it!” He straightens up, lube held triumphantly aloft, but pauses when he catches Jared’s expression.
“Oh. You’re not - you didn’t think it was?”
“No!” Jared says, sitting up. “I mean, you’re - I like you, I think you’re awesome. More awesome than anyone I’ve met in a long time. Possibly ever. And I know we had a few drinks, but I thought you might - that we were, you know - “ He waves his hands, trying to illustrate what he’s saying, but they just sort of end up colliding violently. He might be a little more drunk than he previously thought.
“Oh,” Jensen says again. “Um. It’s just - I’m not really looking for that right now. I just moved here and started a new job and I’m not really, you know, at this moment I’m kind of just - “
“Looking for someone to fuck and never see again?”
Jensen winces, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “Well. Kind of, I guess.”
And that’s just great. Wow. Jared finally finds a guy that meets all his standards, one that he wants to know as well as Allie and Adrianne know each other, and it turns out the guy is only interested in him for as long as it takes to get laid. “But you got my Star Wars references,” he says nonsensically.
“Sorry,” Jensen says. “I didn’t mean to make you think this was something other than a, you know. One-time thing.”
“But that’s - you’re perfect,” Jared blurts out. “I mean, you like all the same things I do. We have the same taste in cheesy sci-fi movies. Our music tastes aren’t exactly the same, but they’re at least complementary, which is maybe even better. You even feel the same way I do about those commercials for cat litter.”
“Well, yeah,” Jensen says. “That’s because singing cats are fucking creepy.”
“Exactly! We agree on all kinds of stuff,” Jared tells him. “And there are probably things we don’t agree on, and I want to know what they are. I want to know everything about you. You’re awesome and nice and funny and hot and we’ve clearly got some chemistry going on here, and I want to know where that could go. Don’t you want to know where that could go?”
Jensen scrubs a hand across his face. “I don’t know. That’s kind of - that’s a lot, Jared. We just met.”
“I’m not saying we have to be naming our children right now or anything,” Jared assures him. “I’m just saying this could be something. And I want to know what that is.” He reaches out, rubbing a thumb along Jensen’s jaw. “Don’t you want to know?”
Jensen doesn’t lean into it, though, not the way Jared wants him to. Instead, his eyes widen, a little panicked, and he stands and says, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” and starts reaching for his pants, which is really not what Jared wants. But Jensen keeps talking, saying stuff about how he’s sorry for misleading Jared and that he didn’t mean to give him the wrong opinion, and the mood is pretty much dead at this
point, so Jared doesn’t really see any point in sitting on the bed half-naked anymore.
Jensen’s nice about everything, but it’s pretty clear that he’s shuffling Jared toward the door. And since the whole situation’s extremely awkward and Jared just got totally rejected, he’s not really averse to the idea. When he’s tracked down all the articles of clothing they scattered across the living room, he heads straight for the door. Jensen apologizes once more as he’s leaving, but Jared waves him off. It just sounds like Jensen’s saying he’s sorry he brought Jared home in the first place, and that’s the last thing he wants to hear right now.
He catches a cab outside without much trouble, thankfully, and slouches down in the seat for the ride, hoping if he can get back to his bed soon he can just crash and forget this entire night even happened. Because, god, isn’t it just the perfect irony that he finally met a guy he can see himself falling in love with (and might be halfway there already, if he’s being honest) and he ends up picking a guy who’s not interested in love at all? It’s the like the universe or whatever’s in charge of happy endings was giving him a giant middle finger.
He’s so wrapped up in his own depression that he totally forgets about why he went out in the first place, and he drags himself into the apartment without even thinking about Allie and Adrianne. That changes fast, though, because they’re sitting at the kitchen table and they jump up as soon as he comes in, all smiles and hugs and happiness. And they’re his best friends who just got engaged, so Jared shakes off his drama and congratulates them, gushing and pulling them into another giant group hug. Allie’s bursting with the story of the proposal, so after Jared turns down the last of the champagne (because he really doesn’t need any more alcohol at this point, mostly sober or not) and accepts the leftovers of dinner (because food is always good, especially when Adrianne’s cooking), he settles in to hear the whole sappy, romantic retelling.
They tell the story together, interrupting to detour on tangents and argue about details, and after a while Jared’s not even listening so much as watching them play off each other. He’s known them for the entire six years they’ve been dating, and even after all that time it still strikes him sometimes how incredibly perfect they are for each other. There’s this connection, a synchronicity and fluidity underneath everything they do, and while he doesn’t always understand it, he can see it. It’s what’s always made him want to have what they do, the way they can communicate so effortlessly and exist in each other’s lives and space so easily. But this is the first time that he’s ever really thought about how much time and effort that’s taken.
They didn’t start out like this, comfortable and seamless. It was awkward and embarrassing and there were issues and misunderstandings, and Jared remembers more than one time when both of them were so angry at each other they couldn’t even speak. But now they’re here.
Because the thing is, he’s been expecting this to be easy. He’s been waiting for Mr. Perfect to fall into his lap, and he assumed once that happened things would just…flow. It’d happen. He didn’t think that there might be a lot of hard work involved. And maybe that’s the thing - maybe it’s not supposed to be easy. Maybe you’re supposed to have to work for it.
So when Allie and Adrianne finally wrap up the story (which is adorable, of course, and so sweet it makes Jared’s teeth hurt just listening to it) and ask how his night went, Jared smiles and says, “Pretty good, actually. I think I found him.”
“Found who?” Allie asks.
“The one.”
“What one? What are you talking about?” Adrianne asks, but Allie’s eyes suddenly go wide.
“The one? You mean, your Mr. Perfect?”
Jared nods.
“Oh my god!” she squeals, jumping up out of her chair to throw her arms around him. “Jared, that’s fantastic! Who is he? How did you meet? What’s his name? Tell me all about him!”
“Whoa, relax,” Jared says, laughing. “We just met a few hours ago. I don’t even know that much about him.”
“But you obviously know something,” Adrianne presses. “Come on, spill!”
“All right, all right. His name’s Jensen,” Jared tells them. “We met at the bar earlier tonight when Mike shoved him into my lap. He’s thirty, a writer, and gorgeous.”
“And?” Allie prompts. “Did you get his number? A date?” She pauses, eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute. Did you get laid?”
Jared takes a minute to answer, trying to figure out how best to explain that little awkward episode, and Allie’s eyes go wide. “You did!”
“I didn’t,” Jared says quickly. “We kind of…we were heading that direction. But we stopped.”
Adrianne raises an eyebrow. “You stopped?”
“Yeah, it’s…complicated. And no, I don’t have a date and I don’t have his number. I don’t have any kind of guarantee I’m going to see him again, actually.” Jared shrugs, laughing a little. “He kind of doesn’t know yet that he’s the one. I’m working on it.”
To their credit, neither Allie or Adrianne laugh or roll their eyes at that. Allie just pats his hand, and Adrianne says firmly, “Then it’s only a matter of time before he’ll be falling head over heels. You’ve never exactly had a problem when it comes to determination.”
“Yeah,” Allie echoes, grinning. “Go after your man. There’s no way he can resist the patented Jared Padalecki charm. I give it a week before he’s putty in your hands.”
“I think it might take a little bit longer than that,” Jared says, laughing. “He was pretty good at resisting my charm when he very politely kicked me out of his apartment.”
“But now you know where he lives!” Allie points out triumphantly. “Who needs charm when you’ve got stalking?”
“So, more like two weeks,” Adrianne says dryly. “Since stalking takes time and all.”
“Yeah, something like that,” Jared says, grinning. “But that’s okay. I can wait for him to figure out just how awesome I am. Well, as long as he comes around sometime before I’m old and wrinkled, because I would like to get laid sometime in the next decade.”
“Just be patient,” Allie advises. “If he’s really Mr. Perfect, he’ll see just how wonderful you are and you’ll be having sex all over the place in no time.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jared says. “It’s about time I returned the favor, considering you two have been dating forever and you’re still having sex all over the place.”
“Shut up,” Adrianne says, smacking Jared’s arm. “We just got engaged. We’re entitled.”
“And the other 364 days of the year?”
“Well, if you’d just get over your hang-ups and agree to a platonic polygamous relationship like we keep suggesting, you wouldn’t have to worry about it,” Allie tells him, getting up and clearing the plates off the table.
“Yeah, because it isn’t weird enough that I’ve shared a living space with one or both of you the whole time you’ve been dating,” Jared points out. “Let’s throw in a polygamous relationship on top of that. One where I don’t even get any sex. Awesome.”
“All right, fine,” Adrianne says with a sigh. “We’ll just keep on living together in awkward tension.”
“We love you anyway,” Allie tells him, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, and sweet dreams of Jensen.”
“Thanks.” Jared doles out one more round of hugs and congratulations, then heads to his room. Dreams of Jensen sound pretty good, and not just because he knows what Jensen looks like naked and his subconscious can definitely do a lot with that, although he’s looking forward to that. No, dreams are also good because Jared needs to get cracking on some strategy, and the more he thinks about the Jensen situation (even if it’s while he’s sleeping and they’re engaged in implausible sex acts) the better.
Because Jared’s not giving up. He and Jensen pretty much crashed and burned earlier, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed. So Jared found the guy he wants to have happily ever after (and maybe two point five kids and fluffy dog and a nice house in the suburbs, picket fence optional) with and Jensen doesn’t feel the same way - so what? Jared’s just going to have to get Jensen to fall in love with him, that’s all.
He got Jensen to take him home, so it’s obvious his charm’s still working. They have similar tastes and thoughts, and definite chemistry. All the essentials are there, they just need a little encouragement and, like Allie said, patience. Jared can do patient. He wasn’t kidding about waiting before - if it’s going to get him someone like Jensen, someone amazing and hot and hilarious, then yeah. Jared can wait for as long as it takes.
*
Part two