A Beautiful Beast 01/04 - NC-17 - Jared/Jensen

[masterlist415]

Title: A Beautiful Beast 01/04
Author: anyothergirl415
Ratings/Warnings: NC-17 - angst, mentions of past abuse, a whole lot of schmoop
Pairing/(s): Jared/Jensen
Words: ~29,000
Disclaimer: Not affiliated with CW or Disney, this is just fiction.
Summary: Burdened by his past, the oh-so-beautiful Jensen isn’t entirely certain how to act when he’s approached by the homeless man that’s been stalking the book store he works in. He learns pretty quickly, however, that like himself, this man is not at all like he might seem.
Notes: Very loosely inspired by Beauty and the Beast, written for j2_everafter.




There was a homeless man standing by the gardening section and Jensen could smell him even though he was a good five feet away. Jensen pursed his lips and looked away, annoyed that he couldn’t just kick the man out of the store. After all, he highly doubted someone covered in that much dirt would actually have a place to plant anything at all. But, there were rules about being politically correct and for some stupid reason Jensen had to follow them.

Four rows down there was a woman with a baby in a stroller. The woman was reading a romance novel with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and apparently, she had gone deaf because the baby in the stroller was screaming like someone had just stuck a knife in her. Jensen paused, clutching the armful of books to his chest a little tighter. It would be so easy to walk up to the woman and smack her, but there were people who would frown upon that sort of thing.

Forcing himself to walk on, Jensen glanced over at the young couple bickering by the wedding books and over to the older couple that couldn’t even look at each other without scowling. He could make up stories for both pairs - the about to marry, stupidly naive man and woman making plans for a future they probably wouldn’t have anyway. The other already married couple, both with lovers on the outside, only staying together until their children graduated and moved out because that somehow made things better.

Jensen wasn’t sure why anyone bothered with romance any more, didn’t they realize it was a myth? People didn’t fall in love, they fell in lust. And it was hot, it burned, it made every part of you feel alive whenever you touched him, kissed him, fucked him. But it always ended, usually with an explosion, and whoever was left in the wreckage was left alone and likely broken.

If more people accepted this as truth, Jensen thought there might be fewer wars. Maybe this was the solution to stop all the fighting.

“Jensen? When you’re done with those could you unload the Sci-Fi shipment?” Peter - his overweight, always sweaty, mostly creepy supervisor - gave him a leer and dropped his eyes, staring at Jensen’s crotch as if he weren’t wearing anything at all.

It made Jensen swallow thickly and turn away, nodding as he headed to the back of the store and the shelf where the books he carried belonged. He could still feel Peter’s eyes on him and sometimes Jensen wondered what the man would do if he called him on it. Maybe Jensen would get him to stop. Or maybe he’d get fired. Or well, maybe he just didn’t care that much.

Why did Jensen work at a bookstore he didn’t really care about? Because he wouldn’t really care about any place he worked and well, at least Jensen kind of liked books. They smelled good and they were simple. Even with the invention of E-Readers, Jensen thought there would always be books. It was nice to know there was at least one thing that wouldn’t slip through his fingers, not like everything else.

Also, Jensen liked organizing things. When he was really hurting, when the cold hollow ache in his chest was too much for him to ignore and he ran out of full bottles of Jack Daniels, Jensen could find just the slightest peace in putting books in their appropriate places. Another thing that wouldn’t change, the alphabet, Poe would always go before Rice and Jensen could breathe a little bit easier with that in mind.

Just as he was sliding the last of the books in his arms onto the shelf the shriek of a woman had him looking over his shoulder, eyes fixing on the romance section. The homeless man had moved, was now kneeling in front of the screaming baby, and the mother had apparently caught on. Maybe because her baby had stopped crying and if that was what it took to get her attention, Jensen thought she needed more than a smack across the face.

“Get away from my baby!” The woman yelled, jerking the stroller back and swinging it around.

The homeless man stood, his hazel eyes wide under his dirty brow. He shook his head and raised his hands and as Jensen got close, he could see something black staining his finger tips. “I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t touch her! How dare you even try?!” The woman was still yelling and the baby was screaming once more, louder than before.

Over in the wedding section the couple had turned to stare, their fight forgotten in light of another person’s public humiliation. Jensen wanted to roll his eyes at the obvious hard on people got for other’s discomfort, why was the world like that?

He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt or not. Spare the homeless man the wrath of a woman who didn’t seem to care about her baby until someone else was doing her job? Or did he let the woman continue to yell until the homeless man took off? He did smell after all and Jensen wasn’t completely certain he was trustworthy with that big brown trench coat.

Everyone was staring now, the shop wasn’t big enough for the screeching to be ignored, and Jensen wasn’t close enough to smell the man but he could see the pink under dirt stained cheeks.

“S-sorry,” the man stuttered and fumbled backward, bumping into the shelf of romance novels and sending a few to the floor with soft thumps barely audible above the sound of the howling child.

Just as Jensen reached the edge of the aisle the man bumped into the glass door, his hand fumbling for the handle. People were still staring, everyone quiet but that crying baby - and really, how had she not run out of air yet? Jensen sort of pitied the homeless man; after all he must feel the eyes on him like an uncomfortable weight pressing against his chest.

“God, Henry, what is that smut?” A woman said at the magazine rack and the stares were torn away, the hungry little people seeking out the next big show of degradation and humiliation.

The homeless man used the distraction as a chance to get away and Jensen turned back in time to see the last of his brown trench coat flop back in the window. He’d get back to organizing and alphabetizing and pretending to be busy so customers wouldn’t ask him questions. He wouldn’t think about the homeless guy again because, why should he? Why should he think about anyone at all?



Jensen had green eyes and brown hair, a strong jaw he got from his father and wide smile he’d taken from his mother. There was a handful of freckles along his nose and cheeks and sometimes he stared at them in the mirror, trying to figure out how they’d gotten there and why they turned up in random places like his fingers and his ear lobes as well. He wasn’t blind, or stupid, or all that modest, so it was easy to admit he was a good looking guy. Jensen knew having some level of confidence was really the only way to make it in this world.

Just … sometimes. Well, Jensen couldn’t help wondering if there was some part of himself reflected in the mirror that wasn’t so pretty. Internally, he called it his Dorian Gray complex. But there was no painting hidden in the attic and any scars on his soul were there, just under the surface.

If he stared at himself in the mirror long enough he’d see them. But he never did, he turned away instead.

He ate dinner alone in his one-bedroom apartment, watching Jeopardy, then Wheel of Fortune, then prime-time dramas or sitcoms he didn’t really care about. He drank whiskey and beer and vodka - but not all together - and he sang along with theme songs in commercials and laughed until he was crying, then cried until he was sobbing.

Every night he dreamed about what he used to have, what he once cherished, and the ways it fell apart. He dreamed about hard words and cold eyes and every little thing that tore and dug and wormed its way through his very being.

And every morning he woke up and did it all over again.



Though he probably should have, Jensen didn’t recognize the homeless guy wandering through the maternity section. What had him stopping however were the obvious facts - that being: homeless guy and maternity section. He supposed it wasn’t impossible for a man without a home to get a girl pregnant but would they really buy a book? Weren’t there libraries anymore or was that all digitalized, too?

Speaking of, why did the world always feel so eager to rush to the next big thing?

“He’s here again,” Katie whispered, pressing too close to Jensen’s side.

He stepped away but it didn’t matter. She didn’t seem to get gay. Maybe if he cared a little more about not hurting the girl he’d show up in rainbow leggings and a sparkling top singing Avenue Q. But he didn’t, so... he didn’t. “Who’s here?”

“That guy. You know.” Katie nudged his side with her elbow and jerked her eyes toward the person Jensen was apparently supposed to notice.

It looked painful, the eye jerking thing, and Jensen smirked. “Have you developed Tourette's?”

She shot him another hard look and huffed. “Have you lost your brain?”

“Have you lost your book on witty comebacks?” Jensen could probably play the question game all day, at least that would be stimulating.

Katie sighed, however, and gave up. “The homeless guy! He’s here again.”

That was when Jensen really noticed him again and if he scrunched his face up and thought really hard about it, he seemed to recall something about him and a screaming baby. Or screaming lady. Or both.

"Does he come in here a lot?" Jensen asked and he received his answer a moment later when Katie shot him a disbelieving look. "What? I don't work the register."

"Well it's not like he ever buys anything." Katie was clearly growing exasperated with Jensen's lack of insight on the matter of the homeless guy and she sighed. "You had to have noticed him before."

Jensen bit his tongue to keep from saying that he didn't have to do anything. Besides continuing to work, since that was what got him a paycheck. "I've seen him before. Maybe the library won't let him in." He shrugged and for him, the issue was settled.

“You’re weird,” Katie noted, as if this fact was one she wouldn’t necessarily be proud of.

Crossing his eyes, Jensen leered at the girl and when his vision returned to normal she was frowning and stepping back. So what if he was a little weird? What was normal anyway?



Half past two in the middle of the night, Jensen was awake and staring up at the ceiling with wide, dry eyes. On either side of him the bed was cold and Jensen slept right in the middle because he’d had this absurd fear of falling off the edge since he was a child. In the distant, mostly vague part of his memory, he could recall being a kid, tumbling off his Spiderman sheets, and cutting his forehead on the bedside table.

It was one of those memories that came with a bitter after taste in the back of his mouth but that might have been the whiskey that had been threatening to tumble back up for over an hour now. Throwing up alcohol burned his throat and Jensen hated it but, whatever. It shut off the feelings; it broke everything down to simple basics.

Jensen would take the need to binge on salty snacks as his Jack Daniels chaser over the too bright, too harsh slap of reality being sober presented. If he could function at work on the alcohol he would, because sometimes the lack of communication made the conversations in his head a little too loud.

There was a message on his machine, Jensen could see the red light flash every so often from the desk along his wall. It could just have easily been his work or a bill collector. Both wanted something from him and Jensen would call neither of them back. Avoiding them was just as easy as getting wasted.

The list of reasons Jensen could still manage to be awake when the alcohol he had consumed was pumping sluggish and painfully through his veins was a mile long. Too long to spell out now, too painful to dredge up. Jensen rolled over and grabbed a bottle of pain pills from the nightstand. So what if he shouldn’t take them and drink, who cared if he didn’t wake up tomorrow?

Jensen slumped back on the bed and closed his eyes, counting the minutes until the meds kicked in. It would go away, he could continue to avoid it, because it was the only way he knew how to function.

When Jensen finally fell asleep his dreams were black and gray and tinged with blood and pain. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the first place.



After Katie made him aware of the frequency of the homeless man’s appearance, Jensen noticed him every time he came in. One time he was in the children’s section, another time the non-fiction, and yet another time in young adult. Jensen watched out of the corner of his eye for a variety of reasons.

Maybe the guy would steal something, but as far as Jensen could tell he didn’t even touch a book. Sure he looked at them but his hands remained in his pockets and his stare seemed more forced than interested. Maybe Jensen was a little curious about the guy, which was just as unlikely as the guy stealing from them. Possibly.

Jensen didn’t know much about homeless people but he figured this guy fit into the stereotype perfectly. That worn trench coat he wore was ripping at the elbows and the edges were frayed. He wore a deep maroon knitted hat, greasy brown hair curling along his jaw and the back of his neck. Jensen noticed that his face seemed a little cleaner and he’d somehow acquired a pair of mittens that had their finger tips cut off.

Of course those were just random things Jensen noted, he would have picked out details on any person who happened to come into the bookshop a lot. He tried to figure out if there was a pattern to the places the homeless guy browsed but as far as he could tell it was random. Jensen wasn’t sure what to make of that, or why it bothered him so much.

At one point he ventured down the self-help aisle that the homeless man was standing in, fully intending to ask him if he was ever going to buy anything, but a customer stopped him, asking him about Twilight and making Jensen even more annoyed. By the time he’d pointed the woman in the right direction the homeless man had gone, Jensen could see just the back of him disappearing on the other side of the window.

It shouldn’t be bothering Jensen, he couldn’t make sense of why it did, and he shook his head to rid himself of the pressing urge to know. He’d probably never see the guy again anyway.



Twice a month Jensen went grocery shopping which meant twice a month he had to deal with less than pretty housewives eyeing him shamelessly. And crowded supermarket aisles that never seemed big enough for two carts. He always got the same things, the essentials, and he was always annoyed with how long the lines were.

Like every time before the checker asked, “Did you find everything okay, sir?"

Jensen couldn’t say why the question irritated him so much. It shouldn’t, they were just doing their jobs, but he rolled his eyes regardless. “Yeah, I did.” Wouldn’t he have asked someone if he couldn’t find something?

Then, depending on the checker, he was usually forced to do one of his least favorite things. Which happened to be idle conversation over stupid nothings. In this case, the checker decided to comment on how much he liked Hot Pockets, and then on just how hungry Jensen must get to buy so many. Jensen didn’t like being judged on his grocery selection so he simply stared at the worker, the look on his face conveying just how unimpressed he was.

When it became obvious to the checker that he wasn’t going to get more than a hum as an answer for his comments he, thankfully, stopped trying to initiate a conversation and Jensen let himself tune out the cheery pop music playing and the constant low rumble of voices. He paid for his items and insisted no, he didn’t need help to his car, and sure, he would try and have a good day.

Then, finally, he would leave the store and be free for another two weeks. Jensen wasn’t sure if it was the amount of people or the rather pathetic necessity of humankind to bargain shop that bothered him the most, either way every time he left the store he considered buying a farm in the middle of nowhere just to escape from it all.



Jensen wasn’t keeping track of how often he saw the homeless man but he knew it was more than ten times before that day in the middle of November when he showed up once more. Things were beginning to get a little busier, the crowds thickening in preparation for the holiday shopping season - and Jensen could list a million reasons why he hated this time of year - so the guy stood out among the masses.

After all, the guy had to be at least six foot four, if not more, and he was always wearing some sort of knit cap and that same brown jacket, Jensen probably could have picked him out of a crowd in the mall if he had to.

This time, however, Jensen didn’t simply watch and observe to see if the man was going to do anything different. Because this time he was carrying a large shipment of children’s books and the stack was so high he couldn’t see where he was going. He was sure what he had run into was the wall until the wall moved and the top box slid off the pile and fell to the floor with a loud crash.

Then Jensen realized what he’d thought was the wall was actually Homeless Guy and he was a little surprised that he hadn’t smelled him first. Actually, he didn’t smell bad at all right then, so Jensen frowned in slight confusion. “I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

Homeless Guy smiled, so big and bright it almost made Jensen’s eyes hurt. It was like he couldn’t be happier about the fact that Jensen had run into him rather painfully hard. “S’okay, I kind of blend in.”

At that Jensen snorted a laugh because no, he didn’t blend in at all. “Uh, sure you do Clifford.”

The smile fell from Homeless Guy’s face and he shook his head. “No, I’m Jared.”

When Jensen laughed it surprised him, like he hadn’t thought laughing was something he did any more. “No I meant, Clifford. As in, The Big Red Dog?” Homeless guy - Jared - was still frowning in confusion and Jensen shook his head. “Forget it. Uh, could you get that box for me?”

“Oh! Yeah, yes. I can.” Jared nodded quickly and Jensen watched him stoop down to slide the books back into the box and heave it up off the ground. “I can carry it for you.”

Technically that was against the rules, the box contained sales merchandise after all, but Jensen’s arms were beginning to ache and it wasn’t like Jared was doing anything anyway. “Follow me,” he ordered when he’d looked around and realized all of his co-workers were busy helping others.

The books were for a display that was going to be a hot-ticket item come Black Friday so Jensen stacked the boxes behind the cardboard cut out, turning to take the last one from Jared and add it to the pile. When he turned back Jared was still standing there and smiling once more and Jensen blinked a few times to try and come to grips with the idea that someone so very dirty could have such a bright grin.

“Uh, thanks,” he nodded slowly and stepped back, looking around the shop for something to do. Sure he’d always wanted to talk to the guy but now that he was faced with the opportunity, he wasn’t sure he knew how to.

“What’s your name?” Jared asked, his voice light with something cheerful and Jensen didn’t even know how it was possible for someone like him to be happy about anything.

“Jensen,” he answered slowly, just a little creeped out by the way Jared’s smile seemed to grow.

“I always wondered. But no one ever said.” Jared shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I like it.”

Blinking a few more times, Jensen swallowed the desire to ask the guy if he was for real. “Uh, okay.” So what if he liked his name? It wasn’t all that common he supposed, not for a first name at least. "Well I'm just gonna-"

"I keep trying to say hi," Jared interrupted, stepping forward when Jensen stepped back. "I keep almost saying it but then it's like I forget the word."

Jensen was caught between laughing and running away from the, apparently crazy, homeless guy. He did neither though, simply stood and stared. "You forgot the word hi?"

Jared's cheeks tinged pink and he dropped his gaze. "Nervous I guess."

The fact that Jared might have been stalking the bookstore just to talk to him was a little disturbing and Jensen coughed. "Well now you've done it so, yeah."

“Do you eat?” Jared asked quickly, stopping Jensen from walking any further away.

“What?” Jensen slowly turned back to him, his eyes widening. “Yeah, of course I do.” What sort of drugs was this guy on anyway?

Once more Jared’s cheeks were bright pink and he sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I mean, I meant - that is - do you want to? Eat. With me. Maybe?”

Jensen knew he could be a little cold, a little crass sometimes, and he was fairly certain this was how he would be described at that moment before the fumbled request from Jared brought a laugh bubbling up his throat that he couldn’t swallow back. It was just, completely unexpected. Random homeless guy asking him out? Jensen didn’t even know how to begin processing that. “Like, on a date?”

The laughter died in Jensen’s throat the moment he looked up and saw the sadness wash over Jared’s face. There was no hint of that smile and his eyes seemed to be watering slightly. “Sorry, I guess I thought... well, it was stupid. I’m stupid. Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

Jensen felt the hard stab of guilt twist through his gut and though on any other occasion he would have shrugged it off and gone on with his life, something had him stepping forward and grabbing Jared’s mitten covered hand. Their fingertips brushed together for a moment and Jensen frowned. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I wasn’t laughing at you. You just surprised me.”

“So you’ll go?” Jared’s eyes lit up, his smile once more exploding across his features and making him glow even with the smudge of dirt on his cheek.

“Well I don’t-”

“Great! When do you get off? For lunch or something?” Jared was almost bouncing with excitement and Jensen was stuck.

If he said no now, he’d probably feel like he just killed a litter of puppies or something. Sighing, resigned, Jensen glanced toward the clock on the wall. “I have lunch in an hour. You can come back then.”

“Okay.” Jared nodded, also looking toward the clock with a slight frown then back to Jensen. “One hour. I’ll be here.”

Jared turned and weaved through the crowd to the front door before Jensen could change his mind. Somehow Jensen had just gotten roped into having lunch with a crazy homeless man who might possibly be stalking him. Maybe he really did have a death wish or something.



More than once over the next hour Jensen looked toward the window and spotted Jared. Sometimes he was peering into the shop but mostly he was just walking back and forth, like he was afraid Jensen would bail if he left. Maybe Jensen had considered sneaking out the back door but certainly not knowing Jared was standing out front waiting for him.

So if that was the man's point in staying it was mission accomplished.

His lunch came and Jensen lingered in the break room. If he blew Jared off his message would be clear. Most likely he'd never see the homeless guy again and that would be that. With anyone else and the decision would be easy. So why was he struggling with it so much now?

It was that goddamn smile.

Jensen didn't like how twisted his gut felt when he thought about hurting the man. So what would he do? He’d go out there, buy the guy some lunch because he was looking a little scrawny anyway, then tell him as politely as he could manage that nothing was going to be happening between them. Because nothing was going to happen like that in Jensen’s life, with a normal guy let alone a homeless guy.

That was simply not something Jensen did. Not anymore.

Shoulders slumping with resignation, Jensen tugged his coat on and headed back through the shop, out the front door. Jared turned to him with that big grin and Jensen sucked in a slow breath. No, there was no tightening in his chest, Jensen did not allow that.

“Has it been an hour? It felt like more,” Jared laughed softly, lifting his hand to pick at the frayed pieces on his glove. “Do you like hot dogs?”

“How are those things even connected?” Jensen asked before he could stop himself. He had sworn he was going to be polite.

Jared simply laughed though, apparently not that easily offended. “There’s a hot dog cart, I like it. We could get food there.”

Jensen hadn’t exactly been expecting them to go to Red Lobster or something but he’d thought they’d at least choose a place that was indoors. Somewhere that had health codes to follow or something. But Jared’s eyes were hopeful, his smile wide, and Jensen sighed and nodded. “Sure, hot dogs are fine.”

In truth, Jensen hadn’t had a hot dog since he was a little kid but whatever; one little hot dog wasn’t going to go straight to his ass or something.

As they walked along the sidewalk Jensen started preparing a speech to let Jared down easily until the man spoke. “Have you worked at the bookstore long?”

Jensen had been mentally preparing himself for having a conversation with the homeless guy but the sheer normality of the question was a little surprising. “Uh, couple of years. It’s a pretty decent place to work.”

“Everyone has always seemed friendly,” Jared agreed and Jensen wondered if he felt that way only because no one had ever kicked him out. As far as Jensen knew, he’d never spoken to anyone there. “Do you have a favorite book?”

Jensen’s shoe caught on an uneven patch of cement and he tripped, nearly colliding forward with the ground. Thankfully Jared’s reflexes seemed to be faster than Jensen falling and a strong hand curved over his arm, tugging him upright and flat against a broad chest. Jensen blinked up into wide hazel eyes and his mouth felt dry. “Sorry. Just got my walking certificate the other day.”

The amusement that flickered across Jared’s eyes nearly made them sparkle and Jensen had to step away because he was feeling things that he certainly shouldn’t be. This was not right, Jensen didn’t do this.

“You look upset,” Jared said quietly, his hand still firm and tight on Jensen’s arm. “Did I hurt you?”

Jensen groaned and shook his head, tugging his arm free. “No. Come on, I only get forty five minutes for lunch.”

“Why?” Jared asked, quickly hurrying after him. When Jensen just looked his way Jared shrugged. “Why only forty five minutes?”

“Because that’s what my schedule says,” Jensen said slowly, just in case Jared really was as stupid as he was coming across. Jensen didn’t think so but that look on Jared’s face, a little blank, made his eyes widen. “Have you ever even had a job?”

“I work.” Jared protested, lips falling into a deep frown. “I shovel snow, and sweep sidewalks, and I clean up the shelt- the place where I live.”

Some part of Jensen had been holding onto this little hope that maybe Jared wasn’t as homeless as it seemed. Maybe he was just a really bad dresser that had a particular fondness for the dirty trench coat he wore. Apparently, his hopes had just been dashed. “Do they pay you?” He asked quietly, almost afraid to bring it up.

“I get money,” Jared said just as quietly back, tucking his hands into his pockets.

They were quiet for a few blocks and Jensen wondered if he would even have to talk to the guy about this not working out. Maybe he could just be a dick about things and the guy wouldn’t want to come back.

“You never said what your favorite book was,” Jared finally spoke again, giving Jensen a small smile that was nowhere near the blindingness of the ones Jensen had seen.

“Oh, um.” Jensen hummed softly, weirdly uneased by the question. Maybe because that wasn’t the type of things he was used to being asked. When he went to a club and picked up a guy for the night it was, do you top or bottom? Do you have a condom? Can we keep the lights on so I can look at your pretty face? Never once had anyone asked him his favorite book of all things. “Well, I like the Count of Monte Cristo. I enjoy Poe, his dark sense of humor, and his beautiful agony.”

“Cool,” Jared nodded though it looked like he had no idea what Jensen was talking about. Or maybe his technique for picking a guy up was to pretend to be interested until he got some ass and then moved on.

“Do you uh, have a favorite book?” Jensen watched traffic passing by as they waited to cross the street and beside him Jared coughed softly and shifted from foot to foot. “Something wrong?” Jensen asked, finally turning his gaze to the man.

“No, nothing,” Jared shook his head quickly and lurched forward as the crosswalk lit up.

Frowning, Jensen followed the man though he wanted to just turn around and leave. After all, it wasn’t like he was even being rude to the guy. But so far Jared had asked him a question he didn’t seem to want to know the answer of and now he was ignoring Jensen’s attempt at being sociable. See? This was exactly why he didn’t go on dates.

Not that this was a date. Because going to get hot dogs from a cart with a - however cute - homeless guy was the absolute furthest thing from a date. And if Jensen kept telling himself that it would surely be true. Just the fact that he was thinking this way was probably a sign that he should simply go, tell Jared he forgot he had an appointment, anything to be away from this man who clearly was affecting him on a lethal level.

“Ma’am!” Jared’s sudden call had Jensen shaking his head and refocusing, pulling away from the thoughts he’d been temporarily lost in. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

Jensen blinked a few times and frowned, trying to figure out why Jared was calling out for the woman that had just walked past them at a brisk pace. The woman stopped and turned toward him, stepping away as she clearly wondered the same thing. Clearly she wasn’t pleased by the idea of someone like Jared stopping her, maybe she was automatically assuming what Jensen had too, that Jared was homeless and six foot four and maybe a little creepy.

“You dropped this.” Jared held up a crisp green bill and when Jensen stepped closer he could see the 50 clearly stamped on each corner.

The woman’s expression shifted to shock as she reached out, slowly taking the bill from Jared. “Wow, thank you.”

Jared grinned at her and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were embarrassed to be thanked. “You’re welcome.”

She gave Jensen a curious look before reaching into her purse and pulling out her wallet, stuffing the money inside. For a moment Jensen thought she was going to offer him some type of reward, after all he could have easily pocketed that money and she’d never know until she went to use it and it wasn’t there. But then she was tucking the wallet away and looking curiously at Jared a moment longer before turning and walking away.

Jensen scowled. Why he thought any other human being might actually be nice was beyond him. “Jared, why did you give her the money back?” He asked, stepping up to Jared’s side. “You could have used it.”

“But it wasn’t mine.” Jared frowned down at Jensen. “That wouldn’t have been right.”

Blinking a few times, Jensen contemplated asking Jared if he was joking around with him but there was nothing but a warm innocence in Jared’s eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly, letting Jared continue to lead the way down the block. “Let me ask you this, if we were walking and you didn’t see the lady drop the money, but you just found it, what would you do?”

“Take it to the police,” Jared said without hesitation, hands slipping into his pockets.

Jensen nearly laughed at that but he swallowed it down instead. “And if the police tell you there’s nothing they can do, that you should just keep it?” Which was unlikely, the police would probably take it and then keep it themselves, but this was hypothetical anyway.

“Well, if the police couldn’t do anything, and I didn’t know who dropped it, it still wouldn’t be mine. I guess I would donate it.” Jared shrugged again and Jensen couldn’t get past the fact that Jared hadn’t once seemed to entertain the notion of keeping the money for himself.

“But wha-”

“Hot dogs!” Jared called cheerfully and grabbed Jensen’s hand, tugging him forward to the hot dog cart just by the corner.

Jensen shook his head and his lips twitched into a smile that seemed to be impossible to avoid when Jared was around.

Following Jared’s lead, Jensen ordered the foot long dog and covered his with mustard, ketchup and relish. He was just taking a bite when the man running the cart asked for three fifty for the food. “I’ll get it,” Jared insisted quickly, setting his dog down and reaching into his pocket.

As Jensen took another bite he watched Jared pull out a handful of change and began counting it out, a couple of quarters, a handful of dimes, some nickels, and Jensen felt just the slightest bit sick to his stomach. The man at the cart either knew Jared or was used to people paying in change because he didn’t bat an eye as Jared counted out all the coins and Jensen nearly stumbled back at the other meaning behind those coins.

Without hesitation Jared had given fifty dollars back to that woman and now, here, he barely had enough change to pay for two hot dogs. People like Jared just didn’t exist, and Jensen wondered idly if the man was trying in some weird way to impress him. That was probably what it was. Because no one was that nice, it was simply impossible.

“Aren’t they good?” Jared asked as he grabbed his hot dog again and turned to Jensen with a wide grin. “Best hot dogs in town.”

“Have you had all the hot dogs in town?” Jensen shot back because he was still a little caught up over the Jared being so amazing thing.

“Yup,” Jared nodded and took a large bite of his dog, swaying happily from side to side. “Wanna find a bench to sit?”

“We should probably walk back. You know, so I won’t be late or anything.” Jensen knew walking back would get them there with plenty of time to spare but really, he was bailing on this as soon as possibly anyway.

Jared’s shoulders drooped slightly but he nodded and followed Jensen. “Do you like movies?” He asked, maybe a little hopefully.

“Sure, everyone likes movies,” Jensen shrugged and polished off his hot dog. It really was pretty damn good.

“Do you have a favorite movie? It’s really hard to choose. You could choose a favorite kind of movie if you want. Like horror or action or romantic comedy.” Jared was seemingly full of never ending energy and Jensen was a little exhausted just thinking about it.

“You talk a lot,” Jensen said quietly and gave Jared a small smile because he didn’t mean that to sound harsh or anything. “I’m not a romantic comedy fan but horror is alright, action, mystery, suspense. You know, all that stuff. I really like Will Smith, he’s bad ass. I think Tom Cruise is overrated and I refuse to watch anything with Matthew McConaughey in it. And honestly, not that she does many movies in this category but, Julia Roberts kind of creeps me out. Her laugh and those lips.”

Jared was grinning at him by the time he finished talking and Jensen could feel heat crawling up his cheeks as he looked down. “What? She’s weird.”

“No, that’s not bad. I just, you seemed really into that. Like talking about movies was something you enjoy doing. I can talk about movies, I enjoy it, too. So we could talk about movies together.” Jared continued to grin as he balled up the paper from his hot dog and tossed it in the trash. “We could go see a movie. If you wanted to.”

Jensen was supposed to be bringing a short ending to this date - non-date - and now he’d not only failed with that but apparently he was being asked out on a second date. Things kept not going the way they were supposed to. “Uh ... I have plans tonight.”

“Not tonight. I mean, I couldn’t tonight. But, Friday? Or Saturday? We could catch an afternoon one ‘cause they’re ... cheaper.” Jared trailed off quietly and it was the first time Jensen ever saw him look embarrassed referring to himself, like maybe he thought Jensen hadn’t realized just how poor he was. “If you wanna.”

They had stopped at a traffic light and when Jensen looked up he found himself unable to look away from those wide, bright, earnest eyes. Jared looked so excited about even the possibility of going to a movie and Jensen thought it would have been easier at that point to knock over a baby in a stroller than say no to him. “Yeah, alright.”

What was wrong with him? Had he somehow lost the ability to form the word no?

“Great!” Jared grinned and nearly bounced on the sidewalk as the light turned and they were allowed to cross. “Do you know the theatre on Hunt Ave? The bright one with the blue lights?”

Frowning, Jensen looked over at Jared and nodded. “Harkins Theatre? Yeah, I do.”

“Can you meet me there Saturday at one?” Jared said this as if he had some busy calendar and he had to pencil Jensen in but it was somehow his pleasure. Jensen wasn’t sure how a person could sound like all those things but apparently Jared mastered it.

“Alright.” Jensen nodded, not bothering to ask how Jared knew he had Saturday’s off. It seemed better to spare himself any mildly creepy knowledge like Jared stalking him enough to know when he was and wasn’t working.

They came to a stop in front of the bookstore a few minutes later and Jensen looked inside at the building crowd before looking up at Jared. He wondered what Jared’s hair looked like when it wasn’t covered by a knitted hat, or what his shoulders really looked like not bulked from the trench coat he wore.

Just about the time he started to wonder what Jared looked like not wearing anything, Jensen looked away and cleared his throat. “Well uh, guess I better get back inside. Thanks for the hot dog.”

“Thanks for the chance,” Jared said quietly, picking at one fraying edge of his mitten.

“The chance?” Jensen asked curiously, tempted to reach out and lay his hand over Jared’s to stop him but resisting, for obvious reasons.

“On me.” Jared shrugged and shuffled back a step. “See you Saturday.”

Jensen was left standing in front of the shop and watching Jared walk away as he tried to rationalize the way his chest was aching slightly. He could think a lot of things about Jared, about his offhand comments that held a deeper level of meaning, but he forced himself not to. Just to spare his mind and heart from an inevitability of being broken.

Part Two

Master Post