Fic: The One with the Pandas in It (CWRPF AU, J2, NC-17)
I'm a failure at time zones, but it's still the 17th where I am, so:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GINGER!
I hope you've had a fabulous day! Here is some fic with pandas in it! <333
Title: The One with the Pandas in It
Fandom: CWRPF
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jensen drives a city bus, and watches the local zoo's Panda Cam online in his free time. That's how he sees Jared, a zookeeper who always has a smile ready for pandas and zoo guests alike. And then one day, Jared starts riding Jensen's bus...
Notes: For girlmostlikely's birthday! Special thanks to coyotegestalt, at whose birthday dinner this idea was spawned, and kittyzams, an ever fabulous beta and cheerleader. ~4300 words.
On Monday afternoon the panda is sleepy.He lies on a sunny rock and Jensen watches the slow rise and fall of his every breath in grainy black and white. He tries to match his breath to the panda’s, but then the picture skips, freezes and starts up again, and he exhales in a rush and goes back to his sandwich, glancing at the clock over the couch. Half an hour until he has to leave for the depot.
***
On Tuesday a shaggy human head pops into the shot at about noon, and Jensen smiles to himself. Sometimes he’s not online early enough to catch feeding time, and it gives him a small thrill to see the lanky keeper in his red windbreaker dropping bundles of bamboo throughout the enclosure. Jensen leans closer to the screen to catch his grin as he sees the panda sitting in his cave. Jensen can tell his lips are moving, and he wonders what the keeper says to the pandas. He hasn’t been to the zoo since he was little, so he can’t know for sure, but he imagines it’s very kind.
***
It’s not that Jensen ever really wanted to be a bus driver. But they were hiring when he needed a job, the pay isn’t bad, and he almost never has to get up early. His route is crowded at the start of rush hour, meandering through the city. He goes past the zoo on the way west, picks up babbling kids and tiredly smiling parents at the end of the driveway. Sometimes they hold small toy pandas, tiny, soft replicas of the ones he watches. Sometimes they talk about it. It’s how he first hears the name. “Can we go back and see Jared with the pandas?” a little girl says to the woman holding her hand. “He was so cool! And he gets to spend all day with the animals!”
Jared, Jensen says to himself, fitting the name to the man in the red windbreaker. It’s a comfortable name, and as he watches the zookeeper leaving bamboo for the pandas the next day, he says, “Hi, Jared,” and then blushes before the audience of his empty apartment.
***
It’s a Thursday when Jensen looks up to find the zookeeper on his bus, counting out change with his long fingers. Not a regular with a bus pass. “Afternoon,” says Jared - up close, he looks even more like a Jared.
“Good afternoon,” says Jensen, too quietly, and Jared flashes him a grin and heads for the back of the bus.
***
It’s not until Monday that Jensen figures out where Jared gets off, crowding through the back door at a popular intersection. Sixteen blocks from Jensen’s own apartment. (He counts.) By now Jared has a bus pass, and Jensen starts to hope a little that Jared will be on his route every day, sitting all the way in the back with his long legs out in front of him, tugging his lip with his fingers as he reads. He folds the covers of his books back so he can hold them one-handed, a habit Jensen hates. He hates it more because he can’t even see the titles of Jared’s books, get that little insight into who Jared is besides a panda-keeper.
***
They say, “Good afternoon.” The bus is too crowded at rush hour for anything more. Jensen’s not sure what else he’d say anyway. Which makes it terribly hard when Jared gets on the bus at 9 o’clock on Friday night, pink-cheeked and yawning into his hand. There are two old men talking loudly at the back, and a woman knitting in the middle. Otherwise the bus is empty. Jared sprawls across the handicapped seats just outside Jensen’s peripheral vision. “Good evening,” Jensen says.
“Evening,” Jared replies, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Long day?”
“Long day,” Jared agrees. “I’m not usually out this late. But we had a party for someone who’s leaving. I work at the zoo.”
“I can tell,” says Jensen. “Your jacket.”
“Right. So do you always work this late?”
“Till one.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s all right.”
“I think it would be fun driving a bus. Meeting all those people, talking to them. That’s sort of like my job. I mean, mostly I work with the pandas, but I also do the Creature Feature at the Small Mammal House. All those kids asking questions. They’re so into it. It’s awesome.” He has a nice voice, a low twang of someplace else to it, and Jensen nods along, glancing back at Jared as they stop at a red light.
“People don’t talk to me that much,” Jensen admits. “It’s usually crowded.”
“That’s too bad. I bet some pretty cool people ride your bus.”
Tonight they do, Jensen thinks.
Jared gets off at his usual stop, calling, “See you later,” over his shoulder.
“Later,” Jensen echoes, and he can’t stop the smile lingering on his face the rest of the night.
***
But Jared’s not on the bus on Monday. Jensen watched him on the Panda Cam earlier, so it’s not as though Jared’s out sick, but he doesn’t get on at four and he doesn’t get on at five and by the time midnight rolls around, Jensen has pretty much given up. Maybe he took the bus after Jensen’s at 4:30. Maybe he had an appointment to go to, or a date. Jensen provides any number of excuses to cheer himself up.
But Jared’s not on the bus on Tuesday either. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. By the time the next Monday rolls around, Jensen’s sort of resigned himself to it. But it doesn’t ease the disappointment. When he watches the Panda Cam in the mornings, his gut twists at the sight of Jared carrying bamboo and smiling for the pandas, and the kids with their panda toys make him sad. He wonders if something he said drove Jared away.
***
After two weeks, Jensen works up his nerve and goes to the zoo on his day off. He showers, and shaves, and puts on a soft grey t-shirt his sister bought him for Christmas and his favorite jeans. He checks the time for the Creature Feature at the Small Mammal House, but there are three of them every day, and he doesn’t know if Jared does all of them. He doesn’t know if he’ll go anyway. He tells himself that mostly he’s just going to the zoo to look at the pandas.
But the pandas aren’t outside when he gets there, probably asleep indoors in one of the little cement rooms he sees on the Panda Cam. And the Small Mammal House isn’t so far to walk.
It’s warmer inside than outside, musky smelling and full of shrill voices saying, “Come look!” Jensen moves through slowly, examining the waddling moles and the sharp-faced tamarins who dart through tunnels above the other cages. He likes the animals, who ignore him as they pace and dig and nap, unlike the parents, who hustle their children past the grown man on his own at the zoo, all suspicious eyes and uncertain frowns.
There’s a flash of red around the next corner, and a crowded murmur of voices, and Jensen heartbeat speeds in his ears. He feels blood rush into his face as he recognizes the sound of Jared’s voice greeting the kids. “How are y’all doing today?” Jared says, and the kids all talk at once. Jensen edges up until he can see Jared’s refection in the Plexiglas of an empty cage, hazy and smudged.
“Awesome,” Jared tells them. “Well, my name’s Jared, and this right here is Zoe.” The kids gasp, and Jensen sees a blur of motion against Jared’s jacket.
“Mama, it’s a rat!” some kid exclaims, and Jared laughs.
“Actually, Zoe’s a rock hyrax, and she’s more closely related to an elephant than she is to a rat.”
Jensen leans around the corner, curious, as Jared explains about the sweat glands in Zoe’s feet that help them stick to rocks like suction cups. Jared’s turned away from him, and Jensen watches the curve of his back, the corner of his smile. He asks if anyone wants to pet the hyrax, and Jensen forgets to duck back around the corner as Jared looks up.
Their eyes meet, catch, and Jared’s smile widens a little before he turns to a little girl with her hand stretched out, bending so she can touch. The hyrax seems calm, crouched against his arm. “She’s so soft,” the girl giggles, skipping backwards into her dad. Jared grins.
Jensen waits until the kids wander off, looking at his shoes and telling himself that it would be cowardly to leave now.
“Hey,” says Jared finally, and Jensen looks up. Jared is even taller than he expected, up close. “You’re the bus driver, right?”
“Yeah,” replies Jensen. “You stopped riding my bus.” It feels like a confession, knowing he cares too much, knowing he shouldn’t.
“My car died. I was just taking the bus until I got a new alternator. You noticed I was gone?”
“Not many people talk to me,” Jensen says lamely.
Jared looks at the hyrax, his hand curved over her back, then back at Jensen. “Let me just put Zoe back, and then I’ll show you around, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Jensen waits, his hands in his pockets, watching a chinchilla wash its nose, which seems to be a painstaking process. He wants to leave, tries to tell himself that it’s only four hours until his shift starts and maybe he should go.
But then Jared’s back, touching his arm and saying, “I have to go feed the pandas. Come with me?” Jensen follows.
Jared talks, tells Jensen about his job, the pandas, the things the tamarins get into when no one’s looking. He walks fast, long strides, and Jensen rushes to keep up with him, glad he doesn’t have to fill up the space. Jared walks him straight past a sign in the panda house that says “Zoo Employees Only” as though it’s nothing. He walks right up to a door with a window in it and says, “This is Monty.” Inside is the youngest of the zoo’s pandas, sprawled out on his belly with a paw across his face.
“Monty?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah, his name means ‘Peaceful Mountain’ in Chinese, but he was born here, so I wanted him to have an American nickname.”
“That’s nice.”
Jared chuckles. “It’s kind of weird, actually.”
“But in a nice way.”
Jared winks at him.
“I’m not supposed to be back here, am I?” Jensen asks.
Jared shrugs. “Monty won’t mind. I just thought you’d like to see him.”
Jensen watches Monty shift a little in his sleep, rub his paw across his nose. “I do.”
“What’s your name?”
Jensen blinks. It’s so strange that Jared doesn’t know. “Jensen. I don’t know how to say it in Chinese.”
“That’s okay. Is that a first name or a last name?”
“First. My last name’s Ackles.”
Jared holds out his hand. “Jared. Padalecki.”
Jared’s hand is large and warm and slightly sweaty. “I think I can tell which one of those is a last name.”
“Do you have nights off?”
Jensen falters, knows his face registers surprise, and he stares harder at the panda to cover it. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to get dinner on one of them?”
Jensen can’t even speak for a minute. No one’s asked him anything like that in so long, not for dinner, not to look at pandas at the zoo. “Yes,” he replies finally. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Monty rolls onto his back and flails around a little. “It might be a date,” Jared adds.
“I’ll wear nice shoes.”
“Do bus drivers own nice shoes?”
“Do zookeepers?”
“Touché.”
Monty gets up and wanders off through a hole in the wall. Jensen feels silly staring at an empty room. He risks a glance at Jared, who’s smiling at him. His smile is even nicer when it’s not just a few pixels wide, dimples in his cheeks and just a hint of teeth. Jensen smiles back.
***
Jared insists on asking him questions over dinner, about his family and his job and his friends. As Jensen spools out his life over sushi, it seems inadequate, like he can’t possibly have done enough to justify the way Jared’s listening to him. He sits in his apartment and watches the panda cam; he goes to dinner at his parents’ in the suburbs on Sundays; he works; and once in a blue moon, he goes to see his friend Chris’s band play little out of the way clubs. It’s not much. But Jared shakes his head when Jensen says that.
“I’ve lived here a year,” Jared tells him, “and I still feel like I don’t really know anybody except people from work. I spend all my time with the animals.”
“Is that so bad?”
“No. But it’s different from human friends.”
“I guess it would be.” Jensen fiddles with his napkin, doesn’t know how to say that he would love to be Jared’s friend, that he would love to be even more than that, if Jared wanted.
Jared grabs for the check when it comes, waves off Jensen’s attempts to pay half, and Jensen thinks, Maybe, maybe.
They linger on the sidewalk, Jensen shifting from foot to foot at the bus stop. “Do you want a ride?” Jared asks. “My car’s right there.”
Jensen nods. “Thanks. The bus doesn’t go really close to my place.”
“That’s ironic.”
“A little bit.” Jensen smiles. Jared’s elbow brushes his, and Jensen cuts a sideways look at him, but Jared’s not looking back.
His car looks too small for him, Jared folding himself down into a little two-door hatchback with ASPCA and “Dog Is My Co-Pilot” stickers on the bumper. “I’m sorry for the mess,” Jared says as Jensen’s feet crunch into a pile of newspapers.
“You’re giving me a ride home. Why should I complain?”
“Guess you shouldn’t.”
It’s a short ride, and Jared talks all the way, affection about his piece of crap car. But he trails off as they pull up in front of Jensen’s building. Jensen picks at the fraying inseam of his jeans. “There’s usually parking around the corner,” he offers quietly. “If you want to come up for a little while.”
Jared licks his lips. “Which corner?”
***
Jared starts to kiss him in the hallway, his nose bumping Jensen’s as he bends his head. Jensen is dizzy, almost giddy, and his hand shakes as he fumbles with his keys. “Wait,” he whispers, glancing around at his neighbors’ doors. “Not here.” But he can feel Jared’s breath stirring the hair on the back of his neck as he opens the door, and he doesn’t want to wait.
He hasn’t brought anyone home in, God, years, and he finds it hard to navigate, walking backwards, Jared’s hands on his hips and his lips teasing at Jensen’s. All the familiar landmarks - coat rack, armchair, floor lamp - become obstacles, and it seems to take years to get to the bedroom, to tumble Jared onto his bed.
“Is this too fast?” Jared asks, pulling Jensen down on top of him by his beltloops. “Should we stop?”
“No,” Jensen replies, licking back into Jared’s mouth and letting his hand crowd in at the nape of Jared’s neck where his hair is short and soft. Jared’s fingers circle at the small of Jensen’s back, tickling up under Jensen’s shirt, and he uses his teeth when he kisses this time. Jensen presses in closer, feels Jared getting hard under him, their hips moving restlessly and out of sync. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what Jared wants, doesn’t want to do it wrong.
“Jensen,” Jared murmurs. “Are you okay? Is this what you want?” And the way Jared’s eyes move across his face tells him Jared is nervous too. Jensen’s instinct to panic recedes a little.
“It’s just been a while. But I want to.” Jensen kisses the corner of his mouth, the hinge of his jaw, the flutter of his pulse, learning the different textures of Jared’s skin with his lips. He’s not even sure where to start, glad for it when Jared rolls them over, pins him to the bed with his hips, their legs interlocking so Jared’s thigh nudges at Jensen’s balls every time they move. Jensen takes a shaky breath, rocking into the pressure.
Jared’s keys are a hard lump digging into Jensen’s hipbone, and Jensen fumbles down between their bodies, trying to get Jared’s pants out of the way. Jared groans into his mouth and starts to help. He tugs and unzips and pushes at Jared’s clothes until he’s down to underwear, both of them panting and trembling and squirming all over Jensen’s bed. “Can we consider all the time on the bus foreplay?” Jared asks, grinning into Jensen’s cheek. “I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”
“I watched you,” Jensen replies, not even meaning to, but he’s painfully turned on, and he lost his shirt somewhere, and he needs Jared to know.
“When?” Jared asks, looking puzzled, kiss-swollen mouth puckered in a slight frown, as if he should remember Jensen’s eyes on him.
“On the Panda Cam, before you started taking my bus. I tried to turn it on early enough to see you feeding them, and smiling at them, and talking to them. I didn’t know who you were, but I wanted to see you.”
He expects something to change, expects Jared to move or cringe or at least point out that that’s weirder than calling a baby panda “Monty,” but Jared just keeps staring at him, and if anything, the hunger in his eyes only seems to deepen. “Why?” Jared asks, soft and easy, but Jensen’s throat seems to close up around the answer.
“I get lonely,” he admits finally, his voice hoarse and threatening to swallow the words back down. “And you’re so - you care about the pandas. And I wanted…” His cheeks burn and he can’t finish, as if now that he’s said it Jared will hear the empty echoes all over his apartment, the too-big silence that normally fills it.
Jared’s fingers come up around Jensen’s face, stroking the rises of his cheekbones. He kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth, then lets his lips linger. “I don’t think,” he begins solemnly, “that I can think of anything I do with the pandas as foreplay.”
It takes a moment for the joke to register along with the words, and then Jensen feels something unclench in his chest. He breathes out, and turns his face to kiss Jared again, licking into his mouth and sucking at Jared’s tongue. “In that case,” he says, after a little while, “I might think you’re easy.”
Jared’s laughter starts in his belly and seems to work its way up, rocking Jensen’s whole world. “Guess I’ll have to live with that then,” Jared concludes, and then he digs his hand into Jensen’s unbuttoned jeans, and Jensen moans as the space around his aching dick gets even tighter. Jared’s hand is big and warm, cupping the length of him and pulling gently, thumb rubbing the head of his dick. Jensen spreads his legs wider around Jared’s, slips his hands down over Jared’s ass to tug at the waist of Jared’s boxer-briefs.
“Let me,” Jensen whispers. “Let me…”
“Anything,” Jared murmurs.
Jensen puts a hand on his collarbone, nudging him onto his back so he can lick down Jared’s chest, nuzzle over sparse hair and sweat-sharp skin, dip his tongue into Jared’s navel. Jared makes a high, choked noise, and Jensen’s skin shivers into goosebumps as he mouths around the jut of Jared’s hip. His fingers slide into Jensen’s hair, tugging gently, and Jensen’s chin brushes the swollen heat of Jared’s cock. Jensen takes a breath and licks a slow stripe across the head, salty-wet, trying to remember how this goes. Above him, Jared gives a choked-off moan, and Jensen closes his eyes and opens his lips around the tip of Jared’s cock. It’s hot against his tongue, skin so smooth sliding into his mouth, and Jared’s fingers press at the back of Jensen’s neck, not quite holding him down. “Jensen,” Jared says, low and hoarse. “God, Jensen.”
Jensen nearly chokes, trying to take Jared into his throat, and he makes up the difference with his hand after that, finding a rhythm as Jared’s fingers smooth over the back of his head. He swallows and hums and feels Jared tensing, his balls drawing up as Jensen curls his hand around them. It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t know Jared that well, and he considers pulling off, stroking Jared through his orgasm. “Jensen,” Jared moans, hips twitching upward, and it’s a warning, but suddenly Jensen can’t make himself heed it, just closes his eyes and lets Jared spill into his mouth, sucks him through it, Jared’s cock cradled on the curve of his tongue.
Jared’s come is still hot in the back of his throat, a bitter tingle, when Jared pushes him onto his back and starts pulling at his remaining clothes. Jensen wriggles under him, breathless and trying to swallow the noises he makes when Jared’s breath tickles against his ribs. Jared is shamelessly happy, grinning into Jensen’s skin, tongue and teeth finding the most sensitive spots as his big hands cradle Jensen’s hips.
Jensen’s cock presses painfully inside the stiff denim of his good jeans, and when Jared’s fingers tug down his zipper, Jensen gives a whispery little moan. The pressure eases for a moment as Jared pulls his jeans down his thighs, and then his hand is right there again, cupping and squeezing Jensen through his briefs, mouth still working against his chest. “Jensen,” Jared sighs, and his name sounds so good like that, this small, contented sound against his skin. Jensen presses his knuckles to Jared’s cheek and looks tentatively down. Jared’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes bright, his hair hanging in sweaty strands across his face. “Want to fuck you,” Jared slurs, that drawl he tamps down when he’s just talking coming out full force. “God, wanna fuck you so bad.”
Jensen’s never had somebody say it to him like that, lay it right out in the open, and the words make his toes curl, his dick flush even harder. It’s been so long though, and his throat is already sore from the length of Jared in it.
“Not tonight,” Jared adds, quiet and coaxing, and his mouth slides lower, hand drifting back to stroke between the cheeks of Jensen’s ass, still safe in cotton. “Next time.”
And “next time” is somehow even more exciting than the idea of Jared’s cock in his ass. Jensen chokes out a moan and grinds his hips down towards Jared’s hand. Jared might stay; they might do this again; Jared might not stop burning him up from the inside out.
Jared’s hands are working Jensen’s briefs down his thighs, exposing the slick head of Jensen’s dick to cool air and warm breath. Jared’s lips rub across it, his tongue flicking out to taste, and Jensen sobs in a breath. Jared takes him in slowly, sucking down the hot length of Jensen’s shaft. His hand cups Jensen’s balls, fingers tickling farther back again, rubbing tenderly over his asshole. “God, Jared,” Jensen whispers, and Jared’s fingertip dips into him, a sudden sharp point of sensation, making Jensen’s whole body shudder towards his mouth. Jensen’s too close, painfully hard, and he clenches a fist against Jared’s cheek, trying not to thrust too deep. But then Jared sips a breath through his nose and slides his mouth down further, swallowing around Jensen’s cock, and there’s nothing Jensen can do to stop himself, arching and bucking and coming in long spurts down Jared’s throat, orgasm buzzing through him like electricity under his skin.
Jared pulls off and Jensen reaches out for him, drawing him up into his arms and kissing him deeply, sticky and salty and wet. Jensen’s lips are swollen and numb by the time Jared leans up on his elbows to look at him. “Can I stay?” Jared asks shyly, like Jensen might tell him no.
“I can’t cook,” Jensen replies, smoothing Jared’s hair off his face, settling more comfortably under his weight.
“I’ll let you buy me breakfast.” Jared slides a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck, guiding him into another kiss.
“Then you can stay,” Jensen concludes, before slipping his tongue into Jared’s mouth. He draws the kiss out long, closes his eyes and pulls Jared in tight against him. He didn’t let himself want this when Jared was just a friendly figure in a windbreaker on the panda cam, but he considers it now, as Jared relaxes into Jensen’s bed like all the extra space there was made for him. Maybe this is something he can have. Maybe he can hear the kind things Jared tells the pandas for himself. Maybe the warmth in his chest he feels when he looks at Jared’s sleepy smile will stay.
***
[Later]
It’s Monday, and Jensen turns on the computer at ten after eleven, sips his coffee and clicks through his email before hitting the zoo website. The camera is zooming spastically around, trying to find the right angle before settling on Monty and his mother lazing under a tree outside. Jensen smiles to himself, watching the heavy sprawl of them for a while, the flicker of tree shadows painting them stark white and inky black in uneven splotches.
Up the slope, there’s a flash of red, and Jensen’s eyes follow it, the familiar silhouette of Jared’s shaggy head bent over a thick bundle of bamboo. He drops it for the pandas, who don’t even glance up, and then his eyes drift toward the cameras. He says he can’t tell which one’s broadcasting at any given time, but he rarely picks wrong. Jared looks straight at the camera, straight at Jensen, and Jensen doesn’t have to hear the words now to know what they are.
“I love you, too,” Jensen says to his apartment, which doesn’t feel so empty anymore.
<3 fin <3
Further notes: This fic is basically set at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C., whose panda cam is here (although I also recommend the San Diego Zoo panda cam, which is here). I took some liberties with, uh, everything, but you get the idea.
ETA: You can also find a smutty coda in this universe here, and there may be more later under my pandas! tag. :)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GINGER!
I hope you've had a fabulous day! Here is some fic with pandas in it! <333
Title: The One with the Pandas in It
Fandom: CWRPF
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jensen drives a city bus, and watches the local zoo's Panda Cam online in his free time. That's how he sees Jared, a zookeeper who always has a smile ready for pandas and zoo guests alike. And then one day, Jared starts riding Jensen's bus...
Notes: For girlmostlikely's birthday! Special thanks to coyotegestalt, at whose birthday dinner this idea was spawned, and kittyzams, an ever fabulous beta and cheerleader. ~4300 words.
On Monday afternoon the panda is sleepy.He lies on a sunny rock and Jensen watches the slow rise and fall of his every breath in grainy black and white. He tries to match his breath to the panda’s, but then the picture skips, freezes and starts up again, and he exhales in a rush and goes back to his sandwich, glancing at the clock over the couch. Half an hour until he has to leave for the depot.
***
On Tuesday a shaggy human head pops into the shot at about noon, and Jensen smiles to himself. Sometimes he’s not online early enough to catch feeding time, and it gives him a small thrill to see the lanky keeper in his red windbreaker dropping bundles of bamboo throughout the enclosure. Jensen leans closer to the screen to catch his grin as he sees the panda sitting in his cave. Jensen can tell his lips are moving, and he wonders what the keeper says to the pandas. He hasn’t been to the zoo since he was little, so he can’t know for sure, but he imagines it’s very kind.
***
It’s not that Jensen ever really wanted to be a bus driver. But they were hiring when he needed a job, the pay isn’t bad, and he almost never has to get up early. His route is crowded at the start of rush hour, meandering through the city. He goes past the zoo on the way west, picks up babbling kids and tiredly smiling parents at the end of the driveway. Sometimes they hold small toy pandas, tiny, soft replicas of the ones he watches. Sometimes they talk about it. It’s how he first hears the name. “Can we go back and see Jared with the pandas?” a little girl says to the woman holding her hand. “He was so cool! And he gets to spend all day with the animals!”
Jared, Jensen says to himself, fitting the name to the man in the red windbreaker. It’s a comfortable name, and as he watches the zookeeper leaving bamboo for the pandas the next day, he says, “Hi, Jared,” and then blushes before the audience of his empty apartment.
***
It’s a Thursday when Jensen looks up to find the zookeeper on his bus, counting out change with his long fingers. Not a regular with a bus pass. “Afternoon,” says Jared - up close, he looks even more like a Jared.
“Good afternoon,” says Jensen, too quietly, and Jared flashes him a grin and heads for the back of the bus.
***
It’s not until Monday that Jensen figures out where Jared gets off, crowding through the back door at a popular intersection. Sixteen blocks from Jensen’s own apartment. (He counts.) By now Jared has a bus pass, and Jensen starts to hope a little that Jared will be on his route every day, sitting all the way in the back with his long legs out in front of him, tugging his lip with his fingers as he reads. He folds the covers of his books back so he can hold them one-handed, a habit Jensen hates. He hates it more because he can’t even see the titles of Jared’s books, get that little insight into who Jared is besides a panda-keeper.
***
They say, “Good afternoon.” The bus is too crowded at rush hour for anything more. Jensen’s not sure what else he’d say anyway. Which makes it terribly hard when Jared gets on the bus at 9 o’clock on Friday night, pink-cheeked and yawning into his hand. There are two old men talking loudly at the back, and a woman knitting in the middle. Otherwise the bus is empty. Jared sprawls across the handicapped seats just outside Jensen’s peripheral vision. “Good evening,” Jensen says.
“Evening,” Jared replies, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Long day?”
“Long day,” Jared agrees. “I’m not usually out this late. But we had a party for someone who’s leaving. I work at the zoo.”
“I can tell,” says Jensen. “Your jacket.”
“Right. So do you always work this late?”
“Till one.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s all right.”
“I think it would be fun driving a bus. Meeting all those people, talking to them. That’s sort of like my job. I mean, mostly I work with the pandas, but I also do the Creature Feature at the Small Mammal House. All those kids asking questions. They’re so into it. It’s awesome.” He has a nice voice, a low twang of someplace else to it, and Jensen nods along, glancing back at Jared as they stop at a red light.
“People don’t talk to me that much,” Jensen admits. “It’s usually crowded.”
“That’s too bad. I bet some pretty cool people ride your bus.”
Tonight they do, Jensen thinks.
Jared gets off at his usual stop, calling, “See you later,” over his shoulder.
“Later,” Jensen echoes, and he can’t stop the smile lingering on his face the rest of the night.
***
But Jared’s not on the bus on Monday. Jensen watched him on the Panda Cam earlier, so it’s not as though Jared’s out sick, but he doesn’t get on at four and he doesn’t get on at five and by the time midnight rolls around, Jensen has pretty much given up. Maybe he took the bus after Jensen’s at 4:30. Maybe he had an appointment to go to, or a date. Jensen provides any number of excuses to cheer himself up.
But Jared’s not on the bus on Tuesday either. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. By the time the next Monday rolls around, Jensen’s sort of resigned himself to it. But it doesn’t ease the disappointment. When he watches the Panda Cam in the mornings, his gut twists at the sight of Jared carrying bamboo and smiling for the pandas, and the kids with their panda toys make him sad. He wonders if something he said drove Jared away.
***
After two weeks, Jensen works up his nerve and goes to the zoo on his day off. He showers, and shaves, and puts on a soft grey t-shirt his sister bought him for Christmas and his favorite jeans. He checks the time for the Creature Feature at the Small Mammal House, but there are three of them every day, and he doesn’t know if Jared does all of them. He doesn’t know if he’ll go anyway. He tells himself that mostly he’s just going to the zoo to look at the pandas.
But the pandas aren’t outside when he gets there, probably asleep indoors in one of the little cement rooms he sees on the Panda Cam. And the Small Mammal House isn’t so far to walk.
It’s warmer inside than outside, musky smelling and full of shrill voices saying, “Come look!” Jensen moves through slowly, examining the waddling moles and the sharp-faced tamarins who dart through tunnels above the other cages. He likes the animals, who ignore him as they pace and dig and nap, unlike the parents, who hustle their children past the grown man on his own at the zoo, all suspicious eyes and uncertain frowns.
There’s a flash of red around the next corner, and a crowded murmur of voices, and Jensen heartbeat speeds in his ears. He feels blood rush into his face as he recognizes the sound of Jared’s voice greeting the kids. “How are y’all doing today?” Jared says, and the kids all talk at once. Jensen edges up until he can see Jared’s refection in the Plexiglas of an empty cage, hazy and smudged.
“Awesome,” Jared tells them. “Well, my name’s Jared, and this right here is Zoe.” The kids gasp, and Jensen sees a blur of motion against Jared’s jacket.
“Mama, it’s a rat!” some kid exclaims, and Jared laughs.
“Actually, Zoe’s a rock hyrax, and she’s more closely related to an elephant than she is to a rat.”
Jensen leans around the corner, curious, as Jared explains about the sweat glands in Zoe’s feet that help them stick to rocks like suction cups. Jared’s turned away from him, and Jensen watches the curve of his back, the corner of his smile. He asks if anyone wants to pet the hyrax, and Jensen forgets to duck back around the corner as Jared looks up.
Their eyes meet, catch, and Jared’s smile widens a little before he turns to a little girl with her hand stretched out, bending so she can touch. The hyrax seems calm, crouched against his arm. “She’s so soft,” the girl giggles, skipping backwards into her dad. Jared grins.
Jensen waits until the kids wander off, looking at his shoes and telling himself that it would be cowardly to leave now.
“Hey,” says Jared finally, and Jensen looks up. Jared is even taller than he expected, up close. “You’re the bus driver, right?”
“Yeah,” replies Jensen. “You stopped riding my bus.” It feels like a confession, knowing he cares too much, knowing he shouldn’t.
“My car died. I was just taking the bus until I got a new alternator. You noticed I was gone?”
“Not many people talk to me,” Jensen says lamely.
Jared looks at the hyrax, his hand curved over her back, then back at Jensen. “Let me just put Zoe back, and then I’ll show you around, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Jensen waits, his hands in his pockets, watching a chinchilla wash its nose, which seems to be a painstaking process. He wants to leave, tries to tell himself that it’s only four hours until his shift starts and maybe he should go.
But then Jared’s back, touching his arm and saying, “I have to go feed the pandas. Come with me?” Jensen follows.
Jared talks, tells Jensen about his job, the pandas, the things the tamarins get into when no one’s looking. He walks fast, long strides, and Jensen rushes to keep up with him, glad he doesn’t have to fill up the space. Jared walks him straight past a sign in the panda house that says “Zoo Employees Only” as though it’s nothing. He walks right up to a door with a window in it and says, “This is Monty.” Inside is the youngest of the zoo’s pandas, sprawled out on his belly with a paw across his face.
“Monty?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah, his name means ‘Peaceful Mountain’ in Chinese, but he was born here, so I wanted him to have an American nickname.”
“That’s nice.”
Jared chuckles. “It’s kind of weird, actually.”
“But in a nice way.”
Jared winks at him.
“I’m not supposed to be back here, am I?” Jensen asks.
Jared shrugs. “Monty won’t mind. I just thought you’d like to see him.”
Jensen watches Monty shift a little in his sleep, rub his paw across his nose. “I do.”
“What’s your name?”
Jensen blinks. It’s so strange that Jared doesn’t know. “Jensen. I don’t know how to say it in Chinese.”
“That’s okay. Is that a first name or a last name?”
“First. My last name’s Ackles.”
Jared holds out his hand. “Jared. Padalecki.”
Jared’s hand is large and warm and slightly sweaty. “I think I can tell which one of those is a last name.”
“Do you have nights off?”
Jensen falters, knows his face registers surprise, and he stares harder at the panda to cover it. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to get dinner on one of them?”
Jensen can’t even speak for a minute. No one’s asked him anything like that in so long, not for dinner, not to look at pandas at the zoo. “Yes,” he replies finally. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Monty rolls onto his back and flails around a little. “It might be a date,” Jared adds.
“I’ll wear nice shoes.”
“Do bus drivers own nice shoes?”
“Do zookeepers?”
“Touché.”
Monty gets up and wanders off through a hole in the wall. Jensen feels silly staring at an empty room. He risks a glance at Jared, who’s smiling at him. His smile is even nicer when it’s not just a few pixels wide, dimples in his cheeks and just a hint of teeth. Jensen smiles back.
***
Jared insists on asking him questions over dinner, about his family and his job and his friends. As Jensen spools out his life over sushi, it seems inadequate, like he can’t possibly have done enough to justify the way Jared’s listening to him. He sits in his apartment and watches the panda cam; he goes to dinner at his parents’ in the suburbs on Sundays; he works; and once in a blue moon, he goes to see his friend Chris’s band play little out of the way clubs. It’s not much. But Jared shakes his head when Jensen says that.
“I’ve lived here a year,” Jared tells him, “and I still feel like I don’t really know anybody except people from work. I spend all my time with the animals.”
“Is that so bad?”
“No. But it’s different from human friends.”
“I guess it would be.” Jensen fiddles with his napkin, doesn’t know how to say that he would love to be Jared’s friend, that he would love to be even more than that, if Jared wanted.
Jared grabs for the check when it comes, waves off Jensen’s attempts to pay half, and Jensen thinks, Maybe, maybe.
They linger on the sidewalk, Jensen shifting from foot to foot at the bus stop. “Do you want a ride?” Jared asks. “My car’s right there.”
Jensen nods. “Thanks. The bus doesn’t go really close to my place.”
“That’s ironic.”
“A little bit.” Jensen smiles. Jared’s elbow brushes his, and Jensen cuts a sideways look at him, but Jared’s not looking back.
His car looks too small for him, Jared folding himself down into a little two-door hatchback with ASPCA and “Dog Is My Co-Pilot” stickers on the bumper. “I’m sorry for the mess,” Jared says as Jensen’s feet crunch into a pile of newspapers.
“You’re giving me a ride home. Why should I complain?”
“Guess you shouldn’t.”
It’s a short ride, and Jared talks all the way, affection about his piece of crap car. But he trails off as they pull up in front of Jensen’s building. Jensen picks at the fraying inseam of his jeans. “There’s usually parking around the corner,” he offers quietly. “If you want to come up for a little while.”
Jared licks his lips. “Which corner?”
***
Jared starts to kiss him in the hallway, his nose bumping Jensen’s as he bends his head. Jensen is dizzy, almost giddy, and his hand shakes as he fumbles with his keys. “Wait,” he whispers, glancing around at his neighbors’ doors. “Not here.” But he can feel Jared’s breath stirring the hair on the back of his neck as he opens the door, and he doesn’t want to wait.
He hasn’t brought anyone home in, God, years, and he finds it hard to navigate, walking backwards, Jared’s hands on his hips and his lips teasing at Jensen’s. All the familiar landmarks - coat rack, armchair, floor lamp - become obstacles, and it seems to take years to get to the bedroom, to tumble Jared onto his bed.
“Is this too fast?” Jared asks, pulling Jensen down on top of him by his beltloops. “Should we stop?”
“No,” Jensen replies, licking back into Jared’s mouth and letting his hand crowd in at the nape of Jared’s neck where his hair is short and soft. Jared’s fingers circle at the small of Jensen’s back, tickling up under Jensen’s shirt, and he uses his teeth when he kisses this time. Jensen presses in closer, feels Jared getting hard under him, their hips moving restlessly and out of sync. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what Jared wants, doesn’t want to do it wrong.
“Jensen,” Jared murmurs. “Are you okay? Is this what you want?” And the way Jared’s eyes move across his face tells him Jared is nervous too. Jensen’s instinct to panic recedes a little.
“It’s just been a while. But I want to.” Jensen kisses the corner of his mouth, the hinge of his jaw, the flutter of his pulse, learning the different textures of Jared’s skin with his lips. He’s not even sure where to start, glad for it when Jared rolls them over, pins him to the bed with his hips, their legs interlocking so Jared’s thigh nudges at Jensen’s balls every time they move. Jensen takes a shaky breath, rocking into the pressure.
Jared’s keys are a hard lump digging into Jensen’s hipbone, and Jensen fumbles down between their bodies, trying to get Jared’s pants out of the way. Jared groans into his mouth and starts to help. He tugs and unzips and pushes at Jared’s clothes until he’s down to underwear, both of them panting and trembling and squirming all over Jensen’s bed. “Can we consider all the time on the bus foreplay?” Jared asks, grinning into Jensen’s cheek. “I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”
“I watched you,” Jensen replies, not even meaning to, but he’s painfully turned on, and he lost his shirt somewhere, and he needs Jared to know.
“When?” Jared asks, looking puzzled, kiss-swollen mouth puckered in a slight frown, as if he should remember Jensen’s eyes on him.
“On the Panda Cam, before you started taking my bus. I tried to turn it on early enough to see you feeding them, and smiling at them, and talking to them. I didn’t know who you were, but I wanted to see you.”
He expects something to change, expects Jared to move or cringe or at least point out that that’s weirder than calling a baby panda “Monty,” but Jared just keeps staring at him, and if anything, the hunger in his eyes only seems to deepen. “Why?” Jared asks, soft and easy, but Jensen’s throat seems to close up around the answer.
“I get lonely,” he admits finally, his voice hoarse and threatening to swallow the words back down. “And you’re so - you care about the pandas. And I wanted…” His cheeks burn and he can’t finish, as if now that he’s said it Jared will hear the empty echoes all over his apartment, the too-big silence that normally fills it.
Jared’s fingers come up around Jensen’s face, stroking the rises of his cheekbones. He kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth, then lets his lips linger. “I don’t think,” he begins solemnly, “that I can think of anything I do with the pandas as foreplay.”
It takes a moment for the joke to register along with the words, and then Jensen feels something unclench in his chest. He breathes out, and turns his face to kiss Jared again, licking into his mouth and sucking at Jared’s tongue. “In that case,” he says, after a little while, “I might think you’re easy.”
Jared’s laughter starts in his belly and seems to work its way up, rocking Jensen’s whole world. “Guess I’ll have to live with that then,” Jared concludes, and then he digs his hand into Jensen’s unbuttoned jeans, and Jensen moans as the space around his aching dick gets even tighter. Jared’s hand is big and warm, cupping the length of him and pulling gently, thumb rubbing the head of his dick. Jensen spreads his legs wider around Jared’s, slips his hands down over Jared’s ass to tug at the waist of Jared’s boxer-briefs.
“Let me,” Jensen whispers. “Let me…”
“Anything,” Jared murmurs.
Jensen puts a hand on his collarbone, nudging him onto his back so he can lick down Jared’s chest, nuzzle over sparse hair and sweat-sharp skin, dip his tongue into Jared’s navel. Jared makes a high, choked noise, and Jensen’s skin shivers into goosebumps as he mouths around the jut of Jared’s hip. His fingers slide into Jensen’s hair, tugging gently, and Jensen’s chin brushes the swollen heat of Jared’s cock. Jensen takes a breath and licks a slow stripe across the head, salty-wet, trying to remember how this goes. Above him, Jared gives a choked-off moan, and Jensen closes his eyes and opens his lips around the tip of Jared’s cock. It’s hot against his tongue, skin so smooth sliding into his mouth, and Jared’s fingers press at the back of Jensen’s neck, not quite holding him down. “Jensen,” Jared says, low and hoarse. “God, Jensen.”
Jensen nearly chokes, trying to take Jared into his throat, and he makes up the difference with his hand after that, finding a rhythm as Jared’s fingers smooth over the back of his head. He swallows and hums and feels Jared tensing, his balls drawing up as Jensen curls his hand around them. It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t know Jared that well, and he considers pulling off, stroking Jared through his orgasm. “Jensen,” Jared moans, hips twitching upward, and it’s a warning, but suddenly Jensen can’t make himself heed it, just closes his eyes and lets Jared spill into his mouth, sucks him through it, Jared’s cock cradled on the curve of his tongue.
Jared’s come is still hot in the back of his throat, a bitter tingle, when Jared pushes him onto his back and starts pulling at his remaining clothes. Jensen wriggles under him, breathless and trying to swallow the noises he makes when Jared’s breath tickles against his ribs. Jared is shamelessly happy, grinning into Jensen’s skin, tongue and teeth finding the most sensitive spots as his big hands cradle Jensen’s hips.
Jensen’s cock presses painfully inside the stiff denim of his good jeans, and when Jared’s fingers tug down his zipper, Jensen gives a whispery little moan. The pressure eases for a moment as Jared pulls his jeans down his thighs, and then his hand is right there again, cupping and squeezing Jensen through his briefs, mouth still working against his chest. “Jensen,” Jared sighs, and his name sounds so good like that, this small, contented sound against his skin. Jensen presses his knuckles to Jared’s cheek and looks tentatively down. Jared’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes bright, his hair hanging in sweaty strands across his face. “Want to fuck you,” Jared slurs, that drawl he tamps down when he’s just talking coming out full force. “God, wanna fuck you so bad.”
Jensen’s never had somebody say it to him like that, lay it right out in the open, and the words make his toes curl, his dick flush even harder. It’s been so long though, and his throat is already sore from the length of Jared in it.
“Not tonight,” Jared adds, quiet and coaxing, and his mouth slides lower, hand drifting back to stroke between the cheeks of Jensen’s ass, still safe in cotton. “Next time.”
And “next time” is somehow even more exciting than the idea of Jared’s cock in his ass. Jensen chokes out a moan and grinds his hips down towards Jared’s hand. Jared might stay; they might do this again; Jared might not stop burning him up from the inside out.
Jared’s hands are working Jensen’s briefs down his thighs, exposing the slick head of Jensen’s dick to cool air and warm breath. Jared’s lips rub across it, his tongue flicking out to taste, and Jensen sobs in a breath. Jared takes him in slowly, sucking down the hot length of Jensen’s shaft. His hand cups Jensen’s balls, fingers tickling farther back again, rubbing tenderly over his asshole. “God, Jared,” Jensen whispers, and Jared’s fingertip dips into him, a sudden sharp point of sensation, making Jensen’s whole body shudder towards his mouth. Jensen’s too close, painfully hard, and he clenches a fist against Jared’s cheek, trying not to thrust too deep. But then Jared sips a breath through his nose and slides his mouth down further, swallowing around Jensen’s cock, and there’s nothing Jensen can do to stop himself, arching and bucking and coming in long spurts down Jared’s throat, orgasm buzzing through him like electricity under his skin.
Jared pulls off and Jensen reaches out for him, drawing him up into his arms and kissing him deeply, sticky and salty and wet. Jensen’s lips are swollen and numb by the time Jared leans up on his elbows to look at him. “Can I stay?” Jared asks shyly, like Jensen might tell him no.
“I can’t cook,” Jensen replies, smoothing Jared’s hair off his face, settling more comfortably under his weight.
“I’ll let you buy me breakfast.” Jared slides a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck, guiding him into another kiss.
“Then you can stay,” Jensen concludes, before slipping his tongue into Jared’s mouth. He draws the kiss out long, closes his eyes and pulls Jared in tight against him. He didn’t let himself want this when Jared was just a friendly figure in a windbreaker on the panda cam, but he considers it now, as Jared relaxes into Jensen’s bed like all the extra space there was made for him. Maybe this is something he can have. Maybe he can hear the kind things Jared tells the pandas for himself. Maybe the warmth in his chest he feels when he looks at Jared’s sleepy smile will stay.
***
[Later]
It’s Monday, and Jensen turns on the computer at ten after eleven, sips his coffee and clicks through his email before hitting the zoo website. The camera is zooming spastically around, trying to find the right angle before settling on Monty and his mother lazing under a tree outside. Jensen smiles to himself, watching the heavy sprawl of them for a while, the flicker of tree shadows painting them stark white and inky black in uneven splotches.
Up the slope, there’s a flash of red, and Jensen’s eyes follow it, the familiar silhouette of Jared’s shaggy head bent over a thick bundle of bamboo. He drops it for the pandas, who don’t even glance up, and then his eyes drift toward the cameras. He says he can’t tell which one’s broadcasting at any given time, but he rarely picks wrong. Jared looks straight at the camera, straight at Jensen, and Jensen doesn’t have to hear the words now to know what they are.
“I love you, too,” Jensen says to his apartment, which doesn’t feel so empty anymore.
<3 fin <3
Further notes: This fic is basically set at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C., whose panda cam is here (although I also recommend the San Diego Zoo panda cam, which is here). I took some liberties with, uh, everything, but you get the idea.
ETA: You can also find a smutty coda in this universe here, and there may be more later under my pandas! tag. :)