Someone you might have been (part 30 of 39)
Someone you might have been
Secret agent!Jared/Jensen... in which Jared is not a nice guy
part twenty-nine
It's lunchtime on a bright, busy day. The mall is crowded with people and most of the tables at the cafés in the concourse are taken. Jared slouches in a store's doorway, neatly unobtrusive, and watches Mike Rosenbaum drink coffee. Mike has been there for fifteen minutes and Jared has already heard from Ventimiglia that Jensen is headed in this direction. It's working out nicely. After all, they've had the right intel and enough time to guarantee the assignment's smooth running.
Jared watches Mike flip through his newspaper and waits.
Three minutes later, Jensen makes an appearance. He's wearing scruffy jeans and scruffier sneakers and he's got a messenger bag slung over one shoulder; he could pretty easily pass for any other office tech on his lunch break.
Jensen orders a soda then glances around uncertainly at all the busy tables. Mike looks up over his newspaper, raises an eyebrow and gestures to the free chair across from him. Jensen's expression is hesitant, then his face relaxes into a smile and he sits down at Mike's table. There's a brief exchange of words and then Mike goes back to his newspaper and Jensen opens his laptop, for all intents and purposes forgetting about one another.
It's a cute little charade, just like the one in the club in Sofia. It's too bad for them that Jared knows them both way too well to be fooled.
He's not sure exactly when the pass happens, only that Mike's folding up his newspaper and leaving, and six minutes later, so is Jensen, in the opposite direction. Jared ducks away and cuts through the backstreets to the financial district.
He receives confirmation from Ventimiglia that Jensen's entering the bank when Jared's already roughly two-thirds of the way up the elevator shaft. And by the time Jensen reaches his final destination, Jared's out of sight behind the server columns.
There were plenty of ways this assignment's objectives could be achieved, but only this way put Jared and Jensen in a room together. This way, Glover and the others got their demonstration that Jared was fully capable of handling Jensen.
Quietly and efficiently, Jensen sets up his laptop and jacks into the bank's central system. Jared listens to him work and follows Chad's reports through his earpiece. Everything's as perfect as his assignments always used to be, before he met Jensen.
What he's about to do doesn't bother him because he won't allow it to. He made the decision to do this and he's sticking with it. He doesn't allow himself to wonder if maybe that makes him as soulless as Jensen and Glover and the rest either.
When he hears Jensen settle at the access terminal desk, Jared readies his gun and moves. He's got the gun at Jensen's temple before Jensen even has time to look up.
"Make one move I don't tell you to, sweetheart, and I'll paint your brains across the wall."
Jensen stays perfectly, unnaturally still. He doesn't even breathe. Jared gently sweeps the muzzle of the gun around the hollow Jensen's eye, down his cheekbone, in something like a caress. Jensen can't completely stifle a shiver.
"See?" Jared says. "It's real easy to make me happy. Just have to do what I tell you."
"And what's that going to be?" Jensen grinds out breathlessly.
"First thing, you're not gonna let that pretty mouth of yours run away with you. You got something important to say, you say it. But you better be damn sure it's important, y'hear?"
Jensen doesn't respond and Jared chuckles quietly.
"S'okay, you can nod." Jared laughs again when Jensen still doesn't move. "Look at you, all obedient and nicely-behaved. Put your wrists together in front of you."
The gun still resting at his temple, Jensen doesn't hesitate to obey, doesn't struggle when Jared cuffs his hands together.
"Now," says Jared, "I got some stuff to take care of, but you're gonna sit here with me and watch."
Jared manhandles Jensen up off his chair, takes his place and then hauls Jensen onto his knee, balancing him there awkwardly so Jensen is forced to straddle Jared's thigh to keep himself from falling. He steadies himself with his cuffed hands against the desk and tries to move as little as possible. Jared studies him shamelessly, taking in Jensen's gaze fixed straight ahead, the faint flush in his cheek, the tight line of his jaw.
"Imma put my gun down," Jared says. "It's not your cue to try to get away or anything stupid like that. It's just 'cause I'm gonna need my hands free for this, 'kay? But I'll make sure it's out of reach, help you avoid temptation."
He sets his gun down, takes out the flash-drive Chad had given him and inserts it into Jensen's laptop. A few seconds pass, in which Jensen watches the screen intently.
Then, through the earpiece, Chad says, "I'm in. Rory's in place. Nurse confirms Mockingbird's on his way."
Jared leans forward, keeps Jensen in place with a hand rested on his belly, and brings the surveillance-feed up on the laptop. And right there, there's Bledel, their fake-buyer, with Rosenbaum expected at any minute. It's weird having things go so smoothly. Before Jensen, Jared would have expected things to go smoothly. Now, it puts him on edge, makes him even more determined to ensure that this all goes right.
Of course, there's also the possibility that he's on edge because he's got a silent but undeniably hostile Jensen in his lap.
"What I don't get," Jared says, setting up a few things on the laptop, "is why you went to all the trouble of stealing that microchip, if you're just gonna sell it."
There's a pause and then, as if Jensen can't help himself, he says, "I imagine there's a lot you don't get, Jared."
"I get the important things," Jared says with a grin. "Like you," he says, before pressing a kiss to the joint of Jensen's jaw, just below his ear. Jensen grits his teeth and doesn't answer.
On screen, Mike enters.
"Are they gonna blame you for this?" Jared asks conversationally. He kisses Jensen again, this time on the throat, breathing in the smell of his warm skin, hand tightening on his belly to keep him held firm against Jared. "Gonna wonder if maybe your loyalties are a little more mixed-up than they realized?"
"Is this really what you're reduced to?" Jensen says sharply, raggedly. "You gonna force me, Jared?"
"Funny, I don't hear you telling me to stop," Jared says. He cups Jensen's cheek in his palm, tilts Jensen's face towards him so he can kiss the corner of his mouth. He can't help closing his eyes, focusing on nothing but kissing Jensen. "You know I'll stop if you tell me to." The pad of his thumb flickering backwards and forwards over Jensen's jaw, his mouth brushing Jensen's with every word he says, Jared whispers, "Just tell me to stop."
Jensen turns his face just enough to let Jared catch his mouth.
A window flashes open on the laptop, requesting bank details. Jared pushes Jensen away, ignores the small irritable noise of protest Jensen makes, and enters the first set of numbers. He sees Jensen looking at the screen, can feel the tension in his body.
"Sorry, sweetheart," says Jared. "It's not going exactly the way you guys figured. You're not selling the chip. You're giving the microchip back to ISA, and you're paying for the privilege."
"No!" Jensen snarls.
He lunges forward but Jared catches him before he can touch the laptop, drags him back onto his lap.
"Don't make me knock your pretty ass out. Just sit still and watch Rosey get fucked with his pants on."
Jensen struggles wildly and for a moment Jared really thinks he's going to have to punch him out, which doesn't work for him on a number of levels. Then Jensen forces himself to still, breathing hard.
"He has insurance. There are devices. He always sets them up. So if anything goes wrong, and he doesn't make it back…"
"…They'll detonate," Jared finishes. "Yeah, we know. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. We know all about Mike's insurance. We're only after the chip and some Coalition money."
Jensen stares hard at Jared, as if trying to determine whether he trusts him or not, which Jared finds kind of funny, considering. Then the fight goes out of him, the tightness in his muscles loosening.
"Get ready for the reverse transfer," Chad says in his ear. "Mockingbird's happy that Zoolander's verified Rory's details, and he's gonna be entering his own now."
Another dialogue box flashes open on the screen and, as on the video Mike types something into the laptop open between him and Bledel, the bank details appear in the window. Jared confirms them.
"Seriously," Jared says, slipping his fingers under the hem of Jensen's t-shirt to find skin to touch and stroke, "they gonna think you were in on this? Is Mike gonna think you're a traitor? Or are they all gonna think you're incompetent? 'Cause, let's face it, you're in here, fooling around with me, watching as we steal two-point-five million dollars from the Coalition. It don't exactly look good for you either way."
Briskly, Jared tugs down Jensen's fly. Jensen hisses, cuffed hands instinctively moving to stop him.
"You want me to stop?" Jared says. "You're not gagged, sweetheart. You want me to stop, you just gotta say so." He brushes his lips against Jensen's earlobe, teeth grazing the delicately furled skin. "'Course, this is a real bad day for you as it is, so you might as well get something out of it."
"Please," Jensen says.
"Please stop?" Jared says.
Jensen makes a choked noise. "Just fucking touch me."
Feeling an unpleasant rush of victory, Jared pushes Jensen to his feet just long enough to drag his jeans and shorts down his thighs. Jensen's half-hard already, legs spreading easily and his expression miserable and needy. He gives a punched-out breath as Jared grips his cock and jacks him crudely, working him to no particular rhythm, just firm, hard pulls that make Jensen's hips twist and buck.
Jared would be lying if he said he isn't getting off on this. It's not just Jensen all spread out and slutty on his knee he likes, though yeah, that he likes. It's that he's doing this to Jensen while he makes him watch his side lose. It's that the only power Jensen has right now, over Jared, over anything, is the word 'stop', and it's Jared who gave him that power. It's a power he allows Jensen to have.
On screen, the financial transfer is almost complete.
Jensen's tiny, fast breaths have slipped into full, drawn-out moans. He's bracing himself back against Jared, his ass rubbing into Jared every time he moves so all Jared can think about is fucking him. His cock is hot and flushed, wet with precome, and Jared wishes he could stick his hand down his own pants, could jerk himself off before he does something crazy like come in his pants.
"God," Jared says, "so beautiful, aren't you? So fucking hot like this." He bites down hard on the soft, vulnerable stretch of skin on Jensen's throat, below the jaw, worries it brutally between his teeth, sucks until Jensen's crying out wordlessly and his cuffs are rasping across the desktop. "C'mon, Jen, wanna make you come for me, wanna make you filthy for me."
The financial transfer is complete and Jared celebrates with a particularly demanding jerk of his wrist, which has Jensen coming all over his thighs and Jared's hand. As Jensen comes down, he's trembling and sweaty, and he won't look at Jared.
Jared leans forward to the laptop, validates the transaction, then drops a kiss at Jensen's hairline.
Idly using the hem of Jensen's t-shirt to wipe his hands off, Jared says, "Congratulations. You just lost two-point-five million dollars and an advanced tech microchip, and you moaned like a whore through the whole thing."
Instantly, Jensen's on him, hissing and spitting, lashing out to do him any damage he can, kicking and elbowing until Jared unceremoniously dumps him on the floor. He stands over him, taking in the obvious mess he's left: marks of his mouth on Jensen's throat, Jensen's jeans still tugged down, come drying on his skin. Very deliberately, he turns his back on Jensen to remove Chad's flash-drive and to pick up his gun.
He makes a point of showing Jensen the key to the handcuffs, then bends down and slots it in. Jensen doesn't fight, watches him with an unsettlingly intense gaze. And then, before Jensen realizes what he's doing, Jared neatly snaps off the top half of the key.
"You're leaving me like this?" Jensen demands.
"Nope," says Jared, "I'm leaving you like this." He removes the duct tape from his pocket and tapes over Jensen's mouth. He meets Jensen's eyes and the look in them is fiercely outraged. He smiles and shrugs. "Sweetheart, only thing I trust you to do is try to screw me as soon as my back's turned. You think I'm gonna make it easy for you?" He turns for the door, pauses, then says, "Don't count on special treatment from me anymore, Jensen. I mean it."
Jared takes the stairs down at a slow jog. The assignment's gone perfectly and Jared should be proud of himself. He's relieved that's it over, more than anything, and that's an acceptable response. But, less acceptable, there's that tiny sliver of ugly honesty that makes him admit, even if only to himself, that part of him enjoyed it.
part thirty-one
Secret agent!Jared/Jensen... in which Jared is not a nice guy
part twenty-nine
It's lunchtime on a bright, busy day. The mall is crowded with people and most of the tables at the cafés in the concourse are taken. Jared slouches in a store's doorway, neatly unobtrusive, and watches Mike Rosenbaum drink coffee. Mike has been there for fifteen minutes and Jared has already heard from Ventimiglia that Jensen is headed in this direction. It's working out nicely. After all, they've had the right intel and enough time to guarantee the assignment's smooth running.
Jared watches Mike flip through his newspaper and waits.
Three minutes later, Jensen makes an appearance. He's wearing scruffy jeans and scruffier sneakers and he's got a messenger bag slung over one shoulder; he could pretty easily pass for any other office tech on his lunch break.
Jensen orders a soda then glances around uncertainly at all the busy tables. Mike looks up over his newspaper, raises an eyebrow and gestures to the free chair across from him. Jensen's expression is hesitant, then his face relaxes into a smile and he sits down at Mike's table. There's a brief exchange of words and then Mike goes back to his newspaper and Jensen opens his laptop, for all intents and purposes forgetting about one another.
It's a cute little charade, just like the one in the club in Sofia. It's too bad for them that Jared knows them both way too well to be fooled.
He's not sure exactly when the pass happens, only that Mike's folding up his newspaper and leaving, and six minutes later, so is Jensen, in the opposite direction. Jared ducks away and cuts through the backstreets to the financial district.
He receives confirmation from Ventimiglia that Jensen's entering the bank when Jared's already roughly two-thirds of the way up the elevator shaft. And by the time Jensen reaches his final destination, Jared's out of sight behind the server columns.
There were plenty of ways this assignment's objectives could be achieved, but only this way put Jared and Jensen in a room together. This way, Glover and the others got their demonstration that Jared was fully capable of handling Jensen.
Quietly and efficiently, Jensen sets up his laptop and jacks into the bank's central system. Jared listens to him work and follows Chad's reports through his earpiece. Everything's as perfect as his assignments always used to be, before he met Jensen.
What he's about to do doesn't bother him because he won't allow it to. He made the decision to do this and he's sticking with it. He doesn't allow himself to wonder if maybe that makes him as soulless as Jensen and Glover and the rest either.
When he hears Jensen settle at the access terminal desk, Jared readies his gun and moves. He's got the gun at Jensen's temple before Jensen even has time to look up.
"Make one move I don't tell you to, sweetheart, and I'll paint your brains across the wall."
Jensen stays perfectly, unnaturally still. He doesn't even breathe. Jared gently sweeps the muzzle of the gun around the hollow Jensen's eye, down his cheekbone, in something like a caress. Jensen can't completely stifle a shiver.
"See?" Jared says. "It's real easy to make me happy. Just have to do what I tell you."
"And what's that going to be?" Jensen grinds out breathlessly.
"First thing, you're not gonna let that pretty mouth of yours run away with you. You got something important to say, you say it. But you better be damn sure it's important, y'hear?"
Jensen doesn't respond and Jared chuckles quietly.
"S'okay, you can nod." Jared laughs again when Jensen still doesn't move. "Look at you, all obedient and nicely-behaved. Put your wrists together in front of you."
The gun still resting at his temple, Jensen doesn't hesitate to obey, doesn't struggle when Jared cuffs his hands together.
"Now," says Jared, "I got some stuff to take care of, but you're gonna sit here with me and watch."
Jared manhandles Jensen up off his chair, takes his place and then hauls Jensen onto his knee, balancing him there awkwardly so Jensen is forced to straddle Jared's thigh to keep himself from falling. He steadies himself with his cuffed hands against the desk and tries to move as little as possible. Jared studies him shamelessly, taking in Jensen's gaze fixed straight ahead, the faint flush in his cheek, the tight line of his jaw.
"Imma put my gun down," Jared says. "It's not your cue to try to get away or anything stupid like that. It's just 'cause I'm gonna need my hands free for this, 'kay? But I'll make sure it's out of reach, help you avoid temptation."
He sets his gun down, takes out the flash-drive Chad had given him and inserts it into Jensen's laptop. A few seconds pass, in which Jensen watches the screen intently.
Then, through the earpiece, Chad says, "I'm in. Rory's in place. Nurse confirms Mockingbird's on his way."
Jared leans forward, keeps Jensen in place with a hand rested on his belly, and brings the surveillance-feed up on the laptop. And right there, there's Bledel, their fake-buyer, with Rosenbaum expected at any minute. It's weird having things go so smoothly. Before Jensen, Jared would have expected things to go smoothly. Now, it puts him on edge, makes him even more determined to ensure that this all goes right.
Of course, there's also the possibility that he's on edge because he's got a silent but undeniably hostile Jensen in his lap.
"What I don't get," Jared says, setting up a few things on the laptop, "is why you went to all the trouble of stealing that microchip, if you're just gonna sell it."
There's a pause and then, as if Jensen can't help himself, he says, "I imagine there's a lot you don't get, Jared."
"I get the important things," Jared says with a grin. "Like you," he says, before pressing a kiss to the joint of Jensen's jaw, just below his ear. Jensen grits his teeth and doesn't answer.
On screen, Mike enters.
"Are they gonna blame you for this?" Jared asks conversationally. He kisses Jensen again, this time on the throat, breathing in the smell of his warm skin, hand tightening on his belly to keep him held firm against Jared. "Gonna wonder if maybe your loyalties are a little more mixed-up than they realized?"
"Is this really what you're reduced to?" Jensen says sharply, raggedly. "You gonna force me, Jared?"
"Funny, I don't hear you telling me to stop," Jared says. He cups Jensen's cheek in his palm, tilts Jensen's face towards him so he can kiss the corner of his mouth. He can't help closing his eyes, focusing on nothing but kissing Jensen. "You know I'll stop if you tell me to." The pad of his thumb flickering backwards and forwards over Jensen's jaw, his mouth brushing Jensen's with every word he says, Jared whispers, "Just tell me to stop."
Jensen turns his face just enough to let Jared catch his mouth.
A window flashes open on the laptop, requesting bank details. Jared pushes Jensen away, ignores the small irritable noise of protest Jensen makes, and enters the first set of numbers. He sees Jensen looking at the screen, can feel the tension in his body.
"Sorry, sweetheart," says Jared. "It's not going exactly the way you guys figured. You're not selling the chip. You're giving the microchip back to ISA, and you're paying for the privilege."
"No!" Jensen snarls.
He lunges forward but Jared catches him before he can touch the laptop, drags him back onto his lap.
"Don't make me knock your pretty ass out. Just sit still and watch Rosey get fucked with his pants on."
Jensen struggles wildly and for a moment Jared really thinks he's going to have to punch him out, which doesn't work for him on a number of levels. Then Jensen forces himself to still, breathing hard.
"He has insurance. There are devices. He always sets them up. So if anything goes wrong, and he doesn't make it back…"
"…They'll detonate," Jared finishes. "Yeah, we know. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. We know all about Mike's insurance. We're only after the chip and some Coalition money."
Jensen stares hard at Jared, as if trying to determine whether he trusts him or not, which Jared finds kind of funny, considering. Then the fight goes out of him, the tightness in his muscles loosening.
"Get ready for the reverse transfer," Chad says in his ear. "Mockingbird's happy that Zoolander's verified Rory's details, and he's gonna be entering his own now."
Another dialogue box flashes open on the screen and, as on the video Mike types something into the laptop open between him and Bledel, the bank details appear in the window. Jared confirms them.
"Seriously," Jared says, slipping his fingers under the hem of Jensen's t-shirt to find skin to touch and stroke, "they gonna think you were in on this? Is Mike gonna think you're a traitor? Or are they all gonna think you're incompetent? 'Cause, let's face it, you're in here, fooling around with me, watching as we steal two-point-five million dollars from the Coalition. It don't exactly look good for you either way."
Briskly, Jared tugs down Jensen's fly. Jensen hisses, cuffed hands instinctively moving to stop him.
"You want me to stop?" Jared says. "You're not gagged, sweetheart. You want me to stop, you just gotta say so." He brushes his lips against Jensen's earlobe, teeth grazing the delicately furled skin. "'Course, this is a real bad day for you as it is, so you might as well get something out of it."
"Please," Jensen says.
"Please stop?" Jared says.
Jensen makes a choked noise. "Just fucking touch me."
Feeling an unpleasant rush of victory, Jared pushes Jensen to his feet just long enough to drag his jeans and shorts down his thighs. Jensen's half-hard already, legs spreading easily and his expression miserable and needy. He gives a punched-out breath as Jared grips his cock and jacks him crudely, working him to no particular rhythm, just firm, hard pulls that make Jensen's hips twist and buck.
Jared would be lying if he said he isn't getting off on this. It's not just Jensen all spread out and slutty on his knee he likes, though yeah, that he likes. It's that he's doing this to Jensen while he makes him watch his side lose. It's that the only power Jensen has right now, over Jared, over anything, is the word 'stop', and it's Jared who gave him that power. It's a power he allows Jensen to have.
On screen, the financial transfer is almost complete.
Jensen's tiny, fast breaths have slipped into full, drawn-out moans. He's bracing himself back against Jared, his ass rubbing into Jared every time he moves so all Jared can think about is fucking him. His cock is hot and flushed, wet with precome, and Jared wishes he could stick his hand down his own pants, could jerk himself off before he does something crazy like come in his pants.
"God," Jared says, "so beautiful, aren't you? So fucking hot like this." He bites down hard on the soft, vulnerable stretch of skin on Jensen's throat, below the jaw, worries it brutally between his teeth, sucks until Jensen's crying out wordlessly and his cuffs are rasping across the desktop. "C'mon, Jen, wanna make you come for me, wanna make you filthy for me."
The financial transfer is complete and Jared celebrates with a particularly demanding jerk of his wrist, which has Jensen coming all over his thighs and Jared's hand. As Jensen comes down, he's trembling and sweaty, and he won't look at Jared.
Jared leans forward to the laptop, validates the transaction, then drops a kiss at Jensen's hairline.
Idly using the hem of Jensen's t-shirt to wipe his hands off, Jared says, "Congratulations. You just lost two-point-five million dollars and an advanced tech microchip, and you moaned like a whore through the whole thing."
Instantly, Jensen's on him, hissing and spitting, lashing out to do him any damage he can, kicking and elbowing until Jared unceremoniously dumps him on the floor. He stands over him, taking in the obvious mess he's left: marks of his mouth on Jensen's throat, Jensen's jeans still tugged down, come drying on his skin. Very deliberately, he turns his back on Jensen to remove Chad's flash-drive and to pick up his gun.
He makes a point of showing Jensen the key to the handcuffs, then bends down and slots it in. Jensen doesn't fight, watches him with an unsettlingly intense gaze. And then, before Jensen realizes what he's doing, Jared neatly snaps off the top half of the key.
"You're leaving me like this?" Jensen demands.
"Nope," says Jared, "I'm leaving you like this." He removes the duct tape from his pocket and tapes over Jensen's mouth. He meets Jensen's eyes and the look in them is fiercely outraged. He smiles and shrugs. "Sweetheart, only thing I trust you to do is try to screw me as soon as my back's turned. You think I'm gonna make it easy for you?" He turns for the door, pauses, then says, "Don't count on special treatment from me anymore, Jensen. I mean it."
Jared takes the stairs down at a slow jog. The assignment's gone perfectly and Jared should be proud of himself. He's relieved that's it over, more than anything, and that's an acceptable response. But, less acceptable, there's that tiny sliver of ugly honesty that makes him admit, even if only to himself, that part of him enjoyed it.
part thirty-one