Dovetail Shuffle (CWRPS, het, slash, multi, NC17 Jared, Alona, Katie, Misha, Jensen)
This is my second (final) fic for spn_reversebang, a pinch hit for prompt 2011 by sailorhathor. Which I took on with no time at all to write and couldn't help writing, and writing and... As I said at the time, it's like I'd been waiting my whole life for someone to prompt me multi magician RPS. *g* Many, many thanks to the lovely and supportive sailorhathor for the original idea, the many hints, links and tips on magic tricks, and most especially for staying up all night with the last-minute art inspiration! I've been incredibly lucky with both my collaborations for this Reversebang - kind of makes me want to do more. (And more, and...)
Fic Title: Dovetail Shuffle
Author: brutti_ma_buoni
Fandom/Genre: RPS AU
Pairing(s): Multiple combinations of Jared, Jensen, Katie, Alona and Misha, het, slash and multi
Rating: NC17
Word Count: c7500
Warnings: language, some magic and illusions deconstructed and at least partially explained
Art Prompt Title: The World's Most Dangerous Magician and Art Masterpost is here, please go look and give lots of lovely feedback
Summary: Jensen's career isn't looking so good. Becoming a guest magician's assistant wasn't really the break he wanted. But it's a gig in Vegas, and the magician is gorgeous, so there are compensations. And when Jensen joins the crowd, he finds there's a lot more to Jared's team than magic tricks.
"So, this could be fun," says Gary, with the kind of glazed positivity Jensen has come to dread in recent months.
"No," says Jensen carefully. "No, it could not. I am not a fucking stage prop. I am an actor. Remember?"
Gary narrows his eyes. Jensen almost wants to duck the punch that is so clearly coming his way, but that's not really possible with a verbal attack, so he mans up and awaits his fate. "Yeah," says Gary, sweet and low and deadly. "I vaguely remember. You were that guy in that thing that time. Didn't you used to be Jensen Ackles? Because, sweetie? You haven't acted in a loooooong time."
Gary exaggerates. It's what Gary does. But he rarely lies outright. And yeah, since Deranged was cancelled (ten episodes and the pilot, and they never aired seven or eight, for some reason Jensen and the tiny but vocal fanbase will never understand), Jensen hasn't had much in the way of offers of gainful employment. A few telethons. An advert for Japanese guava tea which he prays never makes it onto Youtube (who is he kidding, it must be there, he's just too chickenshit to look). And-
Gary sticks the knife in. "It's this, or-" and he gestures threateningly to the Thing in the Corner.
Jensen narrows his eyes. "You know how I feel about police procedurals," he grits out, defiantly.
"CSI!" Gary pleads, brokenly. He does know. Jensen has Feelings. Lots of Feelings. Feelings he has shared, often, even before the three-episode offer landed on Gary's desk.
"You especially know how I feel about guest casting in police procedurals." This, Gary is also unable to deny. Jensen's rants about celebrities who take the cash, play the super-obvious super-villain and chew on the scenery till he wishes they would choke on it… well, they've been kind of a feature of their relationship. Jensen has some issues.
"I told you when they first asked. No way."
"Sure, sweetie, but that was-" That was last season, when Jensen still had auditions lined up. Gary sees his point is made, and has mercy. "It's nice they still want you."
Yeah. Nice they haven't forgotten him. "Casting director probably has a crush on me," says Jensen, morosely. That's usually why he's gotten callbacks this year. But his face never fits, and he's never actually cast. His damn face, of all things. The thing that everyone just adores about Jensen Ackles. Fuck it. Adored. Adored, is what he should say, very much in the past tense. Now, he's lucky if Jensen Ackles's Beautiful Face and Cocksucking Lips™ are even a memory.
So he looks again at the proposal, and the marketing shit with it. Jared Padalecki. The World's Most Dangerous Magician, now featuring Jensen Ackles. Yeah. That sounds… awesome. Jensen is even sarcastic inside his own head. Dammit.
The thing is, Jensen rates magicians a long way below serious dramatic actors on the scale of entertainers (he rates everyone below dramatic actors, obviously), but he rates them a fuckload higher than retreads doing episodes of CSI for megabucks. Also, it's Vegas, and free luxury accommodation, travel and casino chips - he could pay for it all himself, sure, but maybe if he thinks of it as a paid vacation, it'll be fun. He needs a break from hanging around his apartment, the gym, the park, the usual bars…
Jensen does not, even inside his own head, admit exactly how many of Jared Padalecki's TV specials he has caught.
It may be all of them.
Padalecki enjoys the cheesy magician style, that much is clear. There's a lot of dry ice and rippling black silk outfits. There are two blonde girls in extremely revealing not-really-clothing. They look very alike, but they're not twins - that would be tacky. Even so, Jensen's maybe spent some time wondering whether their likeness is a factor in some of the tricks… and maybe polishing up some of his old twin-sister fantasies too. Katie and Alona. They look sparky. Yeah.
Anyway.
There's also a funny little guy named Misha, with the biggest, bluest eyes Jensen has ever seen. (Jensen feels a lot of sympathy for him on that front. Misha probably gets Eye Comments about as often as Jensen gets Lips Comments. Jensen hopes he enjoys it more.) Misha is also extremely bendy. Worryingly bendy. There's no way Jensen's getting into those poses.
But then there's Jared Padalecki. Jared may be the primary reason Jensen has watched all of the TV specials. It's possible he's tall, ripped and yet sort of dorky and fun. He doesn't pout and pose, more like laugh and look startled when his illusions come off.
David Blaine? Padalecki's polar opposite. Which is a good thing for Jensen.
Vegas. Padalecki. How hard can it be?
Jensen's used to hanging out with minor celebrities. Hell, he's a formerly-medium-sized-but-now-minor celebrity himself. He's a little surprised that he is nervous arriving at Padalecki's base for the initial meet and greet and practice. But it's totally out of his experience, this huge warehouse space full of simple-looking yet sinister contraptions he struggles to identify. It doesn't look even slightly like a stage set, and has none of the mystique Jensen associates with magicians. Apart from a pair of huge leather couches by the back wall, there's nothing homey either. It's all engineering and tech.
Jared, though, is nothing but friendly. He sees Jensen lurking uncertainly in the entrance, and bounds across the space to greet him. He trips at least twice in this short journey, but no major damage ensues. Surprising, really. Jensen's pretty sure magicians need to be dextrous. He suddenly wonders how his insurers will feel if he loses a finger or two to a Padalecki mishap. Maybe the "most dangerous magician in the world" isn't such a great guy to be hanging out with.
But Jared's right up in his face soon, beaming broadly, offering him a mixture of a hug and a handshake. "Man, we're so excited to have you on board for this. You're gonna have a blast, I promise. And we get to have Jensen fucking Ackles with us."
Jensen blinks. Most colleagues try to play it cooler than this. A lot cooler. "Um. Yeah. I'm glad to be here. And I see you know my middle name."
Jared throws his head back, laughing with his entire body. "Sorry. I'm a little overexcited. We were so bummed when Deranged was cancelled. I totally thought Bri was going to go on the run and-"
Jensen reels, silently and he hopes without changing expression. Deranged fans are not in the majority. Then thinks, fuck it, might as well please the fans. It's not like they're plentiful. "It was totally in the major season arc - set up in episode seven, and -"
"Oh my god!" Jared pretty much shrieks over his shoulder. "Alona, did you hear? I was right about Bri!" He turns his head back to Jensen. "You have to get us a copy of episodes seven and eight. And anything else about the plans for-"
Alona is bouncing into the room, looking almost as excited as Jared, when there's a cool cough from one of the more complex pieces of stage machinery. Katie emerges. "Guys? I know you love Deranged. And I'm totally behind you pumping Jensen for tidbits when we're chilling in Vegas. But we have-" she checks her watch, theatrically "-like, six hours and two days to get this novice into shape for a Vegas stage show." She walks up to Jensen, and kisses him briskly on the cheek. "I'm Katie. You met Jared and Alona already. And Misha's asleep in the flame cabinet. So we need to get going."
Jensen nods. A little startled. Seems like Jared isn't exactly the boss hereabouts. Jared gives him a half-hug, handsy and too warm but reassuring. "Don't freak, Katie's making way too big a deal. It's really simple. We want you to be eye candy, and a stooge, and look surprised all the time, and not give away any of our secrets. It's mostly acting and looking pretty." He pinches Jensen's cheek and winks. "So you're just perfect."
Jensen considers biting Jared Padalecki hard on the thumb. He becomes aware his teeth are grinding and tries to ease his jaw. "Sure. Whatever you say. Just a few days of rehearsals and a lot of looking pretty."
Five minutes in, and this job sucks ass.
Three hours later, Jensen has reconsidered. It's actually pretty interesting, watching how the team work. Katie was right; he definitely needs every moment they have to get remotely in shape for the three spectacles he's going to actively participate in, even if he is indeed mostly standing around looking surprised, or pretty, or like he's terrified of being imminently stabbed and then relieved when he survives. Or when he's setting fire to an apparatus with Alona bound to it, which is an extra they throw in to give Jensen a break from being the dumb pretty one, and also to make him freak out and then crack up when it's all okay afterward.
They're fun, these guys. Jensen's enjoying himself. Jared isn't such a doofus as Jensen feared, soft-pedalling the fanboy side and working hard with Alona on the staging. Seems like Katie does a lot of direction and planning, and she's professional in a way he recognises and respects.
Misha, who eventually woke up and joined them is, in Jared's words, "our resident genius" and allegedly invents all the best routines. But since all Jensen's actually had out of Misha is a really strong scent of last night's weed and an overt grope during their welcome hug (seriously - you do not run your fingers down a stranger's butt-crack on first acquaintance. Jensen is sure there's something in Emily Post about it), Jensen's not yet sure that's more than a joke.
Now, after three solid hours of learning, of standing in the wrong place and being told to move fast or hold very still "if you value your balls" (Katie, needless to say. She's the motivator in this group.), Jensen's pretty much flaking.
"Um, guys? I need coffee. Can we take a break?" Everyone looks at him, surprised. Like this is totally a normal day, which of course it is for them. Then they blink, in synch, which weirds Jensen out momentarily. These guys spend way too much time together.
"Um, sure?" Jared looks a little sheepish. "Just, we don’t drink coffee, so…"
Jensen's knees go weak. "You don't- You- No coffee?" He's aware he sounds piteous. He feels piteous. This is all that could be wrong in Ackles world.
Alona pats his arm. "But there's a Starbucks a block south, so…" Jensen has his jacket on almost before she finishes the syllable 'bucks', and he's gone. Let the non-coffee drinkers wait. He needs his fix.
Jensen isn't actually certain whether it would be rude to come back with his coffee-scented coffee-tasting cup of delicious life-saving coffee to The Weird House of Coffee-Not-Ness. But he drinks most of his extra-hot, extra-strong venti on the return trip, inhaling its deliciousness almost without noticing. He whimpers a little, as the mug's relative emptiness reveals itself. No more coffee. No coffee in the house.
These people are freaks.
He walks back into the rehearsal space, and for a moment thinks they all went away and left him alone. Like he's the reject outsider they're playing a not-funny trick on. But then his eyes focus properly, and he can't stop gawking. Jared and the girls are on one of those huge couches. Jared's kissing Katie, slow and sweet, hand riding up under her tee to wrap gently around her breast. Alona is lying along the couch, face in Jared's lap, cheek gently rubbing against what Jensen can see even the length of the room away is a pretty damn impressive erection.
So, he went to get coffee, and they started an orgy. Okay. This is kind of unexpected. He can deal. He's a professional. Is it suddenly hot in here?
Misha's voice in his ear makes Jensen jump. "Don't mind them. It's just a little lunchtime petting. They'd go upstairs if they wanted privacy."
"So this is… normal?" Jensen asks. He hates how juvenile that sounds. But in his world this is not normal. Famous guys with hot women hanging off them, sure. Sometimes multiple hot women. But in the evenings. With clubs, and recreational pharma products, and darkness. Not so much a lunch break on a workday kind of activity. Nor with close colleagues.
(One good thing, he won’t waste too much time fantasising about bedding Jared at the after party now. Clearly not a productive train of thought, no matter what Jensen's dick may have felt on the matter while in the shower this morning. )
Misha hasn't bothered to answer Jensen's naivety. He just adds, "They're not exclusive. I'm welcome too. But my needs are… other."
Jensen's brain goes into overdrive. Other than a gorgeous guy and two beautiful women. Okay. His brain starts to say Ponies? Maybe Misha likes ponies? in an excitable and stupid way. He wishes it would stop. His speech powers also seem to have deserted him.
As if in sympathy, at this point Jensen's entire body goes into spasm, shaken by an enormous sneeze. Wow. Way to spread the Hollywood glamour. Though mercifully, he keeps hold of his remaining coffee. The Sneeze-ageddon interrupts the mini orgy too. Jared breaks off from kissing to beam in Jensen's direction. "Man, I could feel the floor shake! You get your coffee?"
Jensen's eyes are streaming. He nods, a little shakily, and gratefully accepts a handful of Kleenex from Misha.
(His brain starts asking why Misha has ready access to handfuls of Kleenex. Ponies again. Except Jensen's mom also has an infinite supply of Kleenex, so perhaps Misha is just a prudent and responsible person. Weed aside.)
Finally, he's feeling human enough to say, "Sure. You want to get back to work?"
Alona says, "We ordered pizza. But there's a thirty minute wait, so we could live-run your first appearance, if that's okay? Check we have everything down."
That sounds sensible. No threesomes. No ponies. Work. Jensen nods gratefully.
He is a whole lot less grateful ten minutes later when, trussed like a recalcitrant turkey, and awaiting Jared's "knife-throwing", he feel's Katie's left hand slowly sliding down the back of his jeans.
It's a very deliberate move. Katie is mugging for the imaginary audience, her right arm lifted in a TA-DAH! gesture, showing off Jensen's helplessness. Her free hand, though, is gently playing with the top of his ass-crack. She shifts a little, makes space for her hand, and slides it fully into his jeans, palming his cheek. Smiles at him. "This okay?"
"Uh-" He doesn't know. She's gorgeous, and her hand is gently working its way to part his ass-cheeks, rubbing very lightly yet promisingly up and down the sensitive pucker. Usually, this would be very much okay, but her boyfriend is about to throw knives at Jensen, so…
Jared's voice comes from the other end of the room, and Jensen tenses so hard that his ass-cheeks actually trap Katie's fingers for a moment. Then he tunes in to Jared's voice. "You feeling relaxed, Jen? I know the knives look freaky till you get accustomed. We like to take your mind off it."
The first three blades land. Okay, Jensen knows how this works, and he's not about to get killed by a rogue knife blade. He's mainly here to flinch and react with appropriate levels of fear. Like he's done so many times in Streetwars. Jensen once had a whole fan club dedicated to his looks of terror. He can totally do this.
Jared pauses. "Katie? This is when you need to move in - I have to get at the right arm too, to make the pattern." She shifts. Katie's now standing directly in front of Jensen, about six inches distance separating them. Her arms are a few inches away from her sides, mimicking the posture he has to hold on the knife board. Jared adds, "You think he needs to relax a little more?"
Jensen's really not that tense. Seriously.
Katie's cute smile widens to a positively evil grin, and she says, not turning her head towards Jared. "Sure. I think that would be beneficial." She moves a little closer, kneels down and asks, "Okay for the silhouette?"
Jared's cheerful, "Yep, all within his dimensions," is pretty much muffled from Jensen's point of view by the sound and feel of Katie undoing the zipper on Jensen's jeans.
He knew he was hard. He just maybe hadn't appreciated how hard till this crazy yet amazing woman started to blow him in the middle of their rehearsal space. Turns out, the whole ass-fondling, and possibly also the pseudo-danger emoting, really suits Jensen's libido today. Eyes turned down, he watches Katie wrap her mouth round his aching-hard dick. She looks contented, using her fingers to cover the length of cock that she can't swallow, and working him sweetly, vanilla plain and just damn good, in a way that makes him briefly forget where he is, till the next knife slams into the board beside his right shoulder.
Unseen behind the board, Misha shouts out, "How many more to come, Jay? You gonna do the full silhouette?"
"Seven," says Jared, just before the next knife thuds into position beside Jensen's thigh.
Six. Five. Katie wriggles two fingers into Jensen's fly to play a little with his tightly up-drawn balls. Four. She tilts her head back, lips sucking just the head of Jensen's dick with a regular smack of lips. Jensen's balls attempt to crawl right up inside his body and out of his dick. Three. Two. Katie's hand is still working the shaft of his cock and her mouth is working clockwork-regular, shiny cockhead vanishing and reappearing between her lightly-glossed lips.
One.
The last knife slots perfectly into position beside Jensen's right ear, and he comes, hard and abruptly, onto Katie's upturned face.
When his brain returns to active service, Jensen finds Katie is tucking his dick gently back into his jeans. "You can move away from the board now," she says. "This is where we'll dissolve the background lighting so it pretty much vanishes. You can look grateful to be alive, if you want." He's no longer strapped down. Wow. Must have actually lost a few seconds there. He looks beyond her, to the audience he never quite forgot. Jared and Misha, smiling cheerfully, and Alona, not involved in the trick, and reading a magazine.
It's… really not how Jensen imagines voyeuristic kinky sex scenes usually end. "All okay?" asks Misha. "The knife thing... can be unnerving." Jensen turns to look at the knife board, the perfect outline of his body in sharp objects.
He isn't honestly sure if it's the recent orgasm or imagining the near-death experience if that had been real that sends his knees a little weak, but he's glad when Katie walks with him to the couches. He'd definitely appreciate a break.
The buzzer sounds. "Ooh," says Jared, genuinely excited. "Pizza!"
Jensen closes his eyes. He really, really doesn't understand these people.
Knife-throwing is just the start, more of a warm-up and play up their celebrity appearance than a real chance to show off the team's skills. They sketch the rest of the show, though there's no spare rehearsal time to teach Jensen the tricks he won't be performing. Even just the fleeting references make his skin crawl a little. Sure, when you're involved in a trick and you can see the guts of the carefully-built props that support the illusion, it's relatively easy to understand. And there's no real woo-woo magic, of course, just speed, skill and scarily good planning. But when he doesn't know the background, the Most Dangerous Magician's props are downright unpleasant. Words like hydrochloric or tarantula sound sort of threatening when they are likely to be on your skin soon. (Though Jared and Misha are obsessive tarantula fanboys and attempt to share their enthusiasm and reassurance at top volume when they see Jensen cringing. He is not doing tricks involving spiders. Next contract he gets - if he ever gets another one - that is so going in as a special clause.)
But no, he's not doing tricks with spiders. He is, however chaining Jared to a bedframe. With dramatic gestures.
Beyond a little play dominance, Jensen isn't much for chains. Hasn't been, at least. And technically, this isn't a bedframe, though it looks pretty close - a metal rectangle with slats, but held vertical instead of laying down like a bed should. But 'chaining Jared to a bed' is how Jensen thinks of it, and is possibly the reason he messes up the first four times, not even managing to hook the chains on in the required dramatic and eye-catching pattern. The fifth time, he thinks they're good to go, but there's no sign of Jared slipping out of the frame on cue, ready for Jensen to take his place amid the chains in double-quick time that he will one day master. He hopes.
"Uh, Jared?" Jensen briefly wonders what the premium on Jared's health is. Compared to Jensen, Jared's career is actually going someplace, and he probably needs all his limbs for the whole insanely complex and squirmy magic trick thing. He looks over to where Katie and Alona are practice-switching in and out of a table-box-contraption that makes his head hurt every time he tries to work out how the two of them fit inside. Let alone how they move so damn fast. They don't look even slightly concerned.
And now Jensen looks closely, Jared is trying to stifle a grin. "Dude," he says, "You seriously forgot how this works already?"
Jensen looks at his successful and eye-catching chain-draping attempts. Check. So now Jared pops open the hinged back and… Except for how Jensen neatly wrapped the trailing end of the chain around both parts of the frame, making it impossible to use as intended. It's a tiny error, and therefore a hell of a lot more irritating than a spectacular mess up would have been. He reaches up to fix it, feeling stupid and red about the ears. So he can't even do fake magic tricks right. His career slump just gets funner.
Jared manages to work an arm free enough to grab Jensen's shirt as he fiddles with the chain, which has spitefully wrapped itself into more of a knot than Jensen would have thought possible, except for how it's just part of his general crappy life these days. "Hey," says the freakishly massive magician, in the kind of voice girls use to guys when dumping them for someone prettier. "I practiced - well, we all practiced - for, like, a year before we were ready for the stage. And then we looked like shit till we got a decent agent who helped with our image and got us some stagecraft lessons. You're a pretty amazing performer, Ackles. And you're a crappy magician's assistant because you've had about four hours' practice. But we'll get you there."
Jared Padalecki is, it turns out, one of life's good guys. Jensen kind of hates that. And also kind of adores it and wants to keep Jared chained to a (horizontal) bed for a few weeks, telling Jensen what an amazing performer he is and, you know, getting licked a lot.
Jensen does not lick Jared. He does, however, get the chaining him up part right on the seventh attempt, and by the end of the day, they have the switcheroo more or less working. Just a little more fine tuning, and Jensen will be ready both to have knives hurled at him while not thinking about oral sex, and to chain Jared to a bed before switching places and taking his turn on the bottom. Positive thoughts. He's totally fine with this gig. Not at all apprehensive. Sure, tomorrow involves some fire in Jensen's defenceless vicinity. But at least no tarantulas.
Heading back to his carefully-judged hotel (not too expensive for his budget management in the event he never works again, not too un-actorly cheap in case he gets unlucky with some bored paparazzi), Jensen reflects on his first few hours with the team. One public blow job. A whole lot of laughter. Jensen's confused, but he is pretty sure he likes these guys. These few days together could actually not suck out loud.
Vegas is the best. Jensen always thinks it when he arrives, and is then glad to leave after not too many days have passed. But the first brash glories of the desert city are not to be beaten. He's out there a day early, while Jared's team finish up their New York stage run. It feels odd, after three days solidly in company, to be suddenly a free agent again
It's okay. A little lonely, a little exciting. Vegas, and he can do whatever he wants. Last time he was here, it was a publicity thing for the last season of Streetwars, and Jensen was B list, maybe even lower A list. People pointed and whispered when he walked the floors. Three years ago. Life has changed.
A text, from Katie. Hows the hotel? The hotel is awesome, and he knows she knows that. It's nice she's thinking about him.
People point and whisper, which means Jensen is standing under one of Jared's posters, the ones with Special Guest Assistant JENSEN ACKLES on and his photo from Streetwars days, because that's when most people know him from. It's a weird flashback to celebrity. Not a welcome one, really. He doesn't feel like putting on a show face today. Not till he has at least one of the stage shows under his belt and knows he can do this without making an ass of himself.
His phone vibrates again. From Jared this time. Don't lose it all at once. You and me, poker game at the Mirage, Thursday lunchtime. I am a poker demon, Ackles. A *demon* And a photo of Jared making what is probably meant to be a demon face but looks mostly like a rabid bunny.
It makes Jensen laugh, breaks up the funk that was descending. He plays the slots aimlessly a little, checks out the show bills at a few of the casinos, and decides to boycott the other magic shows in town. He doesn't need to see the competition to know that when Jared and the team get here, it's going to be excellent.
No lie. The first night's show is more than excellent. Flame, acid, water, shadow, tarantulas and showmanship all over. The costumes pop, the lighting is stunning. Afterward, Jensen uses words like awesome and outstanding, and feels like a Bill and Ted reject as he tries to find words to express how impressive they are when live, even to someone who now has kind of an idea how some of it is done.
Though he also notices now it's live just how much they get off on the show. There's a whole lot of touching among the crew. Sometimes it's a blatant tromp l'oeil, with the girls flashing flesh or pretend making-out to draw the audience's eyes away from Misha or Jared in the guts of the trick. Sometimes it's more genuine and a lot more subtle, hands sliding round Jensen's ass or fingers running up his inner thighs as they position him. They all do it, to him and to each other, like the touching is part of the show, and like the show is part of their erotic lives. Which, given that it's their job, makes Jensen boggle a little. If the 9 to 5 makes you hard, do you ever stop working?
It's almost a relief to see there's a moment where their games go a little wrong. As Misha and Alona wiggle and strut to give Jared time to conceal himself, a pained stage whisper rings out. "Guys, there's no space for a hard-on in this fucking box." Jensen tries to stifle the snicker, and totally fails.
It's not like he isn't suffering right along with Jared. Despite his pre-show determination, he spends the whole knife trick hard as a fucking rock, remembering what happened in rehearsal. Thank god, they haven't gussied him up in a tight and shiny outfit, so he hopes the audience don't notice. And it was good to get a little audience reaction on his own account. Definitely some squeals from women who probably remember him more from Heartbreak High than his recent stuttering career. Good for the ego.
These guys, these guys who let it be remembered do not drink coffee, are partiers, though. It's the first night, they have another show in (Jensen squints muzzily at his watch), twelve hours, it's 5am and they are still drinking. And doing magic tricks. Mostly small stuff - Jensen has been asked to pick a card so often he's started to forget there's a world where this doesn't happen every five minutes - like a nervous habit or a comfort blanket. Katie's demonstrates for him how she's safely 'impaled' on an iron spike. It involves the world's most suggestive costume harness, with a fake spike popping out from her lower belly like an aggressively pointed little strap-on. Jensen may possibly have played with the spongy tip a while, wondering whether she has a 'real' dick of her own somewhere. He could go with that. He's pretty sure Katie would be happy with it, too. He loses some time thinking about it. Possibly, he's had enough to drink already.
They're all still on the set, which is surprising. Someone needs to reset all the equipment, right? But the way the team interact with their equipment all the time is habitual, almost loving. "You guys really love magic, don't you?" He's drunk enough that the blindingly obvious feels like a profound statement. The owlish looks he gets back suggest they may even agree.
Jared's now near-horizontal, a bottle of good tequila near his right hand, and very little other sign of sentience. But he's the one that answers. "Since I was a kid. All of us, really. I was this really goofy teen-" Jensen tries not to make a duh face at this point "-and magic seemed so exotic. But when I started to learn how tricks are done, it's so… Real? I guess. There's trickery, but the audience is complicit. They often don't want to know how it's done. And we build this stuff ourselves, just for us." He thumps the nearest set piece with affection. Jensen flashes onto a mental image of Jared, shirtless, in denim and tool belt, building his own set. His libido makes a determined effort to overcome the agave liquor in his system. Mmm, manual labour.
Misha says, almost into Jensen's ear, "We like to play with mystique. But under it all, we're just a bunch of regular polyamorous handypersons who love to entertain." His tongue dips lightly into the whorls of Jensen's ear, and he nips on the lobe.
Jensen could swear that Misha was the other side of the stage when Jared was just talking. But he's almost beyond being freaked by Misha now, and the light touches at his ear are arousing even before Misha starts outright tongue-fucking his earhole. There are hands on his thighs now, and that can't be Misha. Whoever it is wriggles up Jensen's body to face level, and turns out to be Alona. Kind of a surprise; she's been the least hands-on and interactive of the four. Also, the most focused on Katie. And yet.
Jensen's hazy enough that he does little more than smile and enjoy as Alona kisses him, hard and slow, masterful enough to keep him still and obedient, the kissee, not the kisser. After a bit, autopilot takes over, and he's running his hands over her, taking off clothing when the chance comes, and loving the feel of her against him. Someone's soon undoing Jensen's fly and shuffling his lower garments off. It's definitely not Alona, who's currently using her arms to brace herself while Jensen nips and sucks at her breasts. Definitely not Jared or Katie, who have caught up with the action and are outright fucking five feet away, Katie's neat, lithe body on all fours, tiny in comparison with Jared's bulk looming behind her as he fucks into her slow and steady. Katie's whimpering a little with every thrust, and Jensen knows how she feels. In that position, he'd whimper too.
Eventually, he realises that means it's Misha who's stripping him, and Misha's hands rolling the condom on, positioning Alona's hips and guiding Jensen's dick inside her. Hands everywhere, six hands for two people fucking and the sensation of fingers on skin surrounds Jensen as he fucks up into her. With this much alcohol on board, no one is rushing to come, and the set is filled with the soft, wet sounds of bodies connecting, dreamy and endless.
When Jensen comes, he's kissing Misha, who's thumbing Alona's clit to bring her right along for the ride. The tight ripples of her climax pull at his sensitised dick just enough to drag out one last pulse of orgasm, and he groans with the sensation, almost the first sound he's consciously vocalised since they tipped inevitably from chatter into sex.
When his eyes open, he looks over Alona's shoulder where she's collapsed forward on him, boneless and fucked out. Her hair's half over his face, but through it he can watch Jared reared up, hands on Katie's hips, fucking hard and rhythmically into her so her whimpers come more regularly and with greater force. His eyes are fixed on Jensen and Alona. Misha leaves them to their sprawl, walks over to the other couple and slides himself under them on his back, like a mechanic checking a chassis, fingers working on Katie while he mouths at Jared's balls. With the extra stimulation, it doesn't take long for the pair to come in their turn.
No one touches Misha. It bothers Jensen a little, but he's too wrung out and drunk to do much more than shuffle his clothes into vague decency and stumble towards his suite. Tomorrow. He'll work out what's happening tomorrow.
Possibly.
The second night show goes well. Familiar, and smoother than the first. Poker with Jared is awesome, in the sense that Jared loves the game but plays like shit and spends half the night delaying rounds with crazy card tricks that have hardened croupiers giggling. Jensen’s starting to relax and enjoy the prospect of the next night's show, until-
“You want me to what?” Misha is staring at him with limpid calm. Like putting Jensen’s life in danger on a whim is just part of his normality. Given that it’s Misha, probably true. Which is not a reassuring thought. He repeats calmly what Jensen thought he said first time around, "You wanna be buried alive?"
“We like to mix it up a little,” adds Misha, still zen with the situation despite what Jensen suspects is his own popping-eyed, throbbing-veined stress-puppy look. And yes, Jensen has observed that, especially in these live shows which aren’t designed for maximum telegenic-ness. It’s not just Jared that directs things, and the assistants pretty much mix it up. It’s not always a girl with maximum cleavage doing the cute gestures, and it’s not always a guy with visible muscles doing the strength work. Alona in particular actively scares Jensen sometimes when he looks at how much she’s supporting on her slim shoulders. And, of course, they swap roles in other parts of their lives too.
Misha continues, “I often switch out for this. It’s just crouching there till it's time to stand up. Anybody could do it.”
Jensen continues the eye-popping silence.
Misha looks at him a little sadly. “Or, do you maybe not trust Jared?”
Jensen does, in the sense that he would definitely lend Jared fifty dollars (and expect to get it back with interest or cookies), or leave Jared alone with his lover (and expect to find them talking football or dogs when he gets back). With his life, though? He’s only known these guys for a few days. Jared’s really kind of clumsy when he's offstage. And Misha has no sense of danger, so far as Jensen can see, so this level of reassurance is absolutely not reassuring.
He's watched the buried alive trick before. It's not exactly a trick, actually, in that it's quite possible Misha could die when tonnes of sand cascade down onto him while he’s supposedly buried in the coffin. Sure, Jared's hidden alongside in an escape hutch with oxygen in case of disaster, and there's even an emergency airway if you really need to take a gasp, but still, there is actually a danger factor which a lot of the tricks have designed out. Jensen does, in fact, think Jared would shift a lot of earth to save Jensen's life. Or anyone's life, really. The strutting stage persona apart, he's a really soft guy. A people person. But Jensen still hates the idea.
Which, exactly, is why he says yes. Fuck it. He's been too passive for too long. And okay, that's more in a career-slide sense than a volunteer to do something slightly life-threatening. But still. It feels like the thing to do. Go with it. See where it leads. That's his new (temporary) motto.
Jensen knew it was dangerous even before he saw the sheer quantity of safety equipment, the oxygen cylinders and the four-page additional disclaimer that the casino wanted him to sign. Then Katie shakes his hand, and congratulates him on his balls (“I do it just occasionally, but this one freaks the fuck out of me.”) He feels simultaneously like a big hero and a scared little kid. But he doesn't back out. Can't face it. Doesn't want to lose that hero feeling, either. It doesn't suck.
Rehearsal time is short, but they whip through the trick a few times, short-changing the amount of sand that lands in the ‘grave’, till they’re at least sure Jensen can get himself out of the coffin and into safety, and that he won’t simply choke while he’s being 'buried'. He needs the airway, though, or he freaks, and that’s not ideal. But Jared and Misha are convinced it’ll work well enough for one performance.
So Jensen does it. He lies in a coffin, is chained in, the lid is closed, he’s lowered into a tomb and tonnes of earth are piled onto him. Much as he knows how he’s supposed to get out of this, at the exact moment it’s happening, Jensen’s at least 50% certain he’s about to die.
He lives. He laughs, as Misha and Katie hand him up out of the grave when the trick goes perfectly, and the audience gasps and applauds like hell. A small, tight knot of loneliness and failure eases inside of him. It's good. He dared to do the crazy thing, for no goddam reason, and it was almost fun. He catches himself, next morning, thinking that if the acting jobs never come around for him, it’s just possible he could find another career that would suit him.
He doesn’t want to. He wants to act. But he could do something else, not sit on his ass waiting forever for the good times to roll back around. (Not magic, though. Or grave-digging.)
The last night, there’s a party for the end of the short run. Jensen almost groans when they invite him. "Seriously? We partied for the first night! It was, like, two days ago. My liver can't stand the pace."
Katie pats him on the shoulder. “First night? That was nothing, my friend. Just a little hanging out and winding down. We always have a party for the support techs. It’s just a nice thing to do. We’ll be back someday, we’d like them to remember us kindly.”
Jared’s suite is decorated with wizard hats and green balloons when they arrive. Which is so Jared, Jensen almost can’t be bothered to look surprised. There’s Magic Punch, which Alona strongly warns him off, and Jared and the assistants are messing with card tricks and other small stuff for the benefit of the crew. The crew, baffled but cheerful, are apparently enjoying this. Jensen stands back, watching the spectacle. He is actually going to miss these guys. They’re tight-knit, sure, but do they ever know how to welcome outsiders. Katie spends some time teaching Jensen how to 'levitate' a can of coke, courtesy of a fake plastic thumb that should be the most obvious thing in the world but actually freaks out a couple of the newer stage hands when he tries it on them. (Yes, Jensen is a magician, kids. After just a week, Jared's magic has rubbed off on him. Heh. Jensen may be getting a little baked by this point.) Later, Misha hands him a DVD of a BBC drama series with some accompanying career advice (“You should totally be a crime-solving magician, Jensen. This part is so you. Just have to sell a US remake to a network, and we’d be glad to act as consultants-“). Which is sweet, but reminds Jensen of his unemployed-ness and the fact that tomorrow he’s going back to an empty apartment and a schedule lacking any meaningful work.
He keeps right on drinking. Not hugely, but enough that he’s floating pleasantly by the time the crew start to drift off. He’s looking for his room key when Jared lays a hand on his shoulder. He’s right up in Jensen’s space, warm breath on the side of his face. “Stay. Please?” A breath of a kiss somewhere high up on Jensen’s cheekbone, chaste as hell, but promising much. Stuff that Jensen had pretty much stopped hoping for from Jared, whatever he might have shared with the rest of the team.
This has been the single sluttiest phase of Jensen’s life, but it doesn’t really feel that way, even now. Like he’s just been invited to spend time with friends, and this is what friends do. Though, most of his friends don’t have three other naked people already in a bed that appears to have been built specially to hold the vastness of Jared Padalecki and his friends-slash-lovers. And that's what Jensen can now see through the bedroom door. Alona and Katie are lost in each other, Katie riding high on Alona's thigh, shiny-wet fingers slipping between the other girl's legs. Misha naked too, and feathering touches along them both.
Jared follows his gaze. "It's what we do. Last nights are for fun." Jared reaches out a hand. "C'mon Jen. I wanna suck your dick."
Jensen laughs, unstoppably. So much for the legendary cocksucker lips. Guys never, ever say that first. Though, in the end, there's more than enough cocksucking to go round. Jensen doesn't expect to get another night with Jared Padalecki, and he's going to enjoy every minute they have. It's crowded and messy and Alona kicks Jensen in the head at one point, and if anyone asked him to narrate the scene he couldn't have told them exactly who was touching who at any one time, except for how in the end he got to work his fingers slow and slippery into Jared's perfectly tight ass, and fuck the magician while the assistants watched and enjoyed the show, and it felt right in a way that little has lately in Jensen's life.
After, in the dark, with Jared’s sleeping but still-fidgety body at his back, the girls entangled head to toe beside them, and Misha laying along the foot of the bed, outside the covers and still inexplicably untouched by anyone else, Jensen decides that this should be his moment to freak out. He’s been a part of this for just a few days. It's extremely not his own world. He's screwed two beautiful women and an amazing guy, and possibly met some of Misha's unspecified needs in a way he doesn't understand, and risked his life and genuinely had fun. But now it's done.
He really doesn't want to freak out.
He slightly doesn't want to leave these guys forever.
He definitely doesn't want to be a magician's assistant long term.
But he is going to take a look at Misha's pitch idea. And maybe come back for another guest spot next year.
Jensen’s entry to Gary’s office isn’t how it has been the past few months. There’s a swing to his walk, a swagger. A smile, even, and how long is it since he wore one of those habitually, without thinking?
His agent looks a little different too. Like there might be some news of the not-hopeless kind.
Jensen’s ready.
Fic Title: Dovetail Shuffle
Author: brutti_ma_buoni
Fandom/Genre: RPS AU
Pairing(s): Multiple combinations of Jared, Jensen, Katie, Alona and Misha, het, slash and multi
Rating: NC17
Word Count: c7500
Warnings: language, some magic and illusions deconstructed and at least partially explained
Art Prompt Title: The World's Most Dangerous Magician and Art Masterpost is here, please go look and give lots of lovely feedback
Summary: Jensen's career isn't looking so good. Becoming a guest magician's assistant wasn't really the break he wanted. But it's a gig in Vegas, and the magician is gorgeous, so there are compensations. And when Jensen joins the crowd, he finds there's a lot more to Jared's team than magic tricks.
"So, this could be fun," says Gary, with the kind of glazed positivity Jensen has come to dread in recent months.
"No," says Jensen carefully. "No, it could not. I am not a fucking stage prop. I am an actor. Remember?"
Gary narrows his eyes. Jensen almost wants to duck the punch that is so clearly coming his way, but that's not really possible with a verbal attack, so he mans up and awaits his fate. "Yeah," says Gary, sweet and low and deadly. "I vaguely remember. You were that guy in that thing that time. Didn't you used to be Jensen Ackles? Because, sweetie? You haven't acted in a loooooong time."
Gary exaggerates. It's what Gary does. But he rarely lies outright. And yeah, since Deranged was cancelled (ten episodes and the pilot, and they never aired seven or eight, for some reason Jensen and the tiny but vocal fanbase will never understand), Jensen hasn't had much in the way of offers of gainful employment. A few telethons. An advert for Japanese guava tea which he prays never makes it onto Youtube (who is he kidding, it must be there, he's just too chickenshit to look). And-
Gary sticks the knife in. "It's this, or-" and he gestures threateningly to the Thing in the Corner.
Jensen narrows his eyes. "You know how I feel about police procedurals," he grits out, defiantly.
"CSI!" Gary pleads, brokenly. He does know. Jensen has Feelings. Lots of Feelings. Feelings he has shared, often, even before the three-episode offer landed on Gary's desk.
"You especially know how I feel about guest casting in police procedurals." This, Gary is also unable to deny. Jensen's rants about celebrities who take the cash, play the super-obvious super-villain and chew on the scenery till he wishes they would choke on it… well, they've been kind of a feature of their relationship. Jensen has some issues.
"I told you when they first asked. No way."
"Sure, sweetie, but that was-" That was last season, when Jensen still had auditions lined up. Gary sees his point is made, and has mercy. "It's nice they still want you."
Yeah. Nice they haven't forgotten him. "Casting director probably has a crush on me," says Jensen, morosely. That's usually why he's gotten callbacks this year. But his face never fits, and he's never actually cast. His damn face, of all things. The thing that everyone just adores about Jensen Ackles. Fuck it. Adored. Adored, is what he should say, very much in the past tense. Now, he's lucky if Jensen Ackles's Beautiful Face and Cocksucking Lips™ are even a memory.
So he looks again at the proposal, and the marketing shit with it. Jared Padalecki. The World's Most Dangerous Magician, now featuring Jensen Ackles. Yeah. That sounds… awesome. Jensen is even sarcastic inside his own head. Dammit.
The thing is, Jensen rates magicians a long way below serious dramatic actors on the scale of entertainers (he rates everyone below dramatic actors, obviously), but he rates them a fuckload higher than retreads doing episodes of CSI for megabucks. Also, it's Vegas, and free luxury accommodation, travel and casino chips - he could pay for it all himself, sure, but maybe if he thinks of it as a paid vacation, it'll be fun. He needs a break from hanging around his apartment, the gym, the park, the usual bars…
Jensen does not, even inside his own head, admit exactly how many of Jared Padalecki's TV specials he has caught.
It may be all of them.
Padalecki enjoys the cheesy magician style, that much is clear. There's a lot of dry ice and rippling black silk outfits. There are two blonde girls in extremely revealing not-really-clothing. They look very alike, but they're not twins - that would be tacky. Even so, Jensen's maybe spent some time wondering whether their likeness is a factor in some of the tricks… and maybe polishing up some of his old twin-sister fantasies too. Katie and Alona. They look sparky. Yeah.
Anyway.
There's also a funny little guy named Misha, with the biggest, bluest eyes Jensen has ever seen. (Jensen feels a lot of sympathy for him on that front. Misha probably gets Eye Comments about as often as Jensen gets Lips Comments. Jensen hopes he enjoys it more.) Misha is also extremely bendy. Worryingly bendy. There's no way Jensen's getting into those poses.
But then there's Jared Padalecki. Jared may be the primary reason Jensen has watched all of the TV specials. It's possible he's tall, ripped and yet sort of dorky and fun. He doesn't pout and pose, more like laugh and look startled when his illusions come off.
David Blaine? Padalecki's polar opposite. Which is a good thing for Jensen.
Vegas. Padalecki. How hard can it be?
Jensen's used to hanging out with minor celebrities. Hell, he's a formerly-medium-sized-but-now-minor celebrity himself. He's a little surprised that he is nervous arriving at Padalecki's base for the initial meet and greet and practice. But it's totally out of his experience, this huge warehouse space full of simple-looking yet sinister contraptions he struggles to identify. It doesn't look even slightly like a stage set, and has none of the mystique Jensen associates with magicians. Apart from a pair of huge leather couches by the back wall, there's nothing homey either. It's all engineering and tech.
Jared, though, is nothing but friendly. He sees Jensen lurking uncertainly in the entrance, and bounds across the space to greet him. He trips at least twice in this short journey, but no major damage ensues. Surprising, really. Jensen's pretty sure magicians need to be dextrous. He suddenly wonders how his insurers will feel if he loses a finger or two to a Padalecki mishap. Maybe the "most dangerous magician in the world" isn't such a great guy to be hanging out with.
But Jared's right up in his face soon, beaming broadly, offering him a mixture of a hug and a handshake. "Man, we're so excited to have you on board for this. You're gonna have a blast, I promise. And we get to have Jensen fucking Ackles with us."
Jensen blinks. Most colleagues try to play it cooler than this. A lot cooler. "Um. Yeah. I'm glad to be here. And I see you know my middle name."
Jared throws his head back, laughing with his entire body. "Sorry. I'm a little overexcited. We were so bummed when Deranged was cancelled. I totally thought Bri was going to go on the run and-"
Jensen reels, silently and he hopes without changing expression. Deranged fans are not in the majority. Then thinks, fuck it, might as well please the fans. It's not like they're plentiful. "It was totally in the major season arc - set up in episode seven, and -"
"Oh my god!" Jared pretty much shrieks over his shoulder. "Alona, did you hear? I was right about Bri!" He turns his head back to Jensen. "You have to get us a copy of episodes seven and eight. And anything else about the plans for-"
Alona is bouncing into the room, looking almost as excited as Jared, when there's a cool cough from one of the more complex pieces of stage machinery. Katie emerges. "Guys? I know you love Deranged. And I'm totally behind you pumping Jensen for tidbits when we're chilling in Vegas. But we have-" she checks her watch, theatrically "-like, six hours and two days to get this novice into shape for a Vegas stage show." She walks up to Jensen, and kisses him briskly on the cheek. "I'm Katie. You met Jared and Alona already. And Misha's asleep in the flame cabinet. So we need to get going."
Jensen nods. A little startled. Seems like Jared isn't exactly the boss hereabouts. Jared gives him a half-hug, handsy and too warm but reassuring. "Don't freak, Katie's making way too big a deal. It's really simple. We want you to be eye candy, and a stooge, and look surprised all the time, and not give away any of our secrets. It's mostly acting and looking pretty." He pinches Jensen's cheek and winks. "So you're just perfect."
Jensen considers biting Jared Padalecki hard on the thumb. He becomes aware his teeth are grinding and tries to ease his jaw. "Sure. Whatever you say. Just a few days of rehearsals and a lot of looking pretty."
Five minutes in, and this job sucks ass.
Three hours later, Jensen has reconsidered. It's actually pretty interesting, watching how the team work. Katie was right; he definitely needs every moment they have to get remotely in shape for the three spectacles he's going to actively participate in, even if he is indeed mostly standing around looking surprised, or pretty, or like he's terrified of being imminently stabbed and then relieved when he survives. Or when he's setting fire to an apparatus with Alona bound to it, which is an extra they throw in to give Jensen a break from being the dumb pretty one, and also to make him freak out and then crack up when it's all okay afterward.
They're fun, these guys. Jensen's enjoying himself. Jared isn't such a doofus as Jensen feared, soft-pedalling the fanboy side and working hard with Alona on the staging. Seems like Katie does a lot of direction and planning, and she's professional in a way he recognises and respects.
Misha, who eventually woke up and joined them is, in Jared's words, "our resident genius" and allegedly invents all the best routines. But since all Jensen's actually had out of Misha is a really strong scent of last night's weed and an overt grope during their welcome hug (seriously - you do not run your fingers down a stranger's butt-crack on first acquaintance. Jensen is sure there's something in Emily Post about it), Jensen's not yet sure that's more than a joke.
Now, after three solid hours of learning, of standing in the wrong place and being told to move fast or hold very still "if you value your balls" (Katie, needless to say. She's the motivator in this group.), Jensen's pretty much flaking.
"Um, guys? I need coffee. Can we take a break?" Everyone looks at him, surprised. Like this is totally a normal day, which of course it is for them. Then they blink, in synch, which weirds Jensen out momentarily. These guys spend way too much time together.
"Um, sure?" Jared looks a little sheepish. "Just, we don’t drink coffee, so…"
Jensen's knees go weak. "You don't- You- No coffee?" He's aware he sounds piteous. He feels piteous. This is all that could be wrong in Ackles world.
Alona pats his arm. "But there's a Starbucks a block south, so…" Jensen has his jacket on almost before she finishes the syllable 'bucks', and he's gone. Let the non-coffee drinkers wait. He needs his fix.
Jensen isn't actually certain whether it would be rude to come back with his coffee-scented coffee-tasting cup of delicious life-saving coffee to The Weird House of Coffee-Not-Ness. But he drinks most of his extra-hot, extra-strong venti on the return trip, inhaling its deliciousness almost without noticing. He whimpers a little, as the mug's relative emptiness reveals itself. No more coffee. No coffee in the house.
These people are freaks.
He walks back into the rehearsal space, and for a moment thinks they all went away and left him alone. Like he's the reject outsider they're playing a not-funny trick on. But then his eyes focus properly, and he can't stop gawking. Jared and the girls are on one of those huge couches. Jared's kissing Katie, slow and sweet, hand riding up under her tee to wrap gently around her breast. Alona is lying along the couch, face in Jared's lap, cheek gently rubbing against what Jensen can see even the length of the room away is a pretty damn impressive erection.
So, he went to get coffee, and they started an orgy. Okay. This is kind of unexpected. He can deal. He's a professional. Is it suddenly hot in here?
Misha's voice in his ear makes Jensen jump. "Don't mind them. It's just a little lunchtime petting. They'd go upstairs if they wanted privacy."
"So this is… normal?" Jensen asks. He hates how juvenile that sounds. But in his world this is not normal. Famous guys with hot women hanging off them, sure. Sometimes multiple hot women. But in the evenings. With clubs, and recreational pharma products, and darkness. Not so much a lunch break on a workday kind of activity. Nor with close colleagues.
(One good thing, he won’t waste too much time fantasising about bedding Jared at the after party now. Clearly not a productive train of thought, no matter what Jensen's dick may have felt on the matter while in the shower this morning. )
Misha hasn't bothered to answer Jensen's naivety. He just adds, "They're not exclusive. I'm welcome too. But my needs are… other."
Jensen's brain goes into overdrive. Other than a gorgeous guy and two beautiful women. Okay. His brain starts to say Ponies? Maybe Misha likes ponies? in an excitable and stupid way. He wishes it would stop. His speech powers also seem to have deserted him.
As if in sympathy, at this point Jensen's entire body goes into spasm, shaken by an enormous sneeze. Wow. Way to spread the Hollywood glamour. Though mercifully, he keeps hold of his remaining coffee. The Sneeze-ageddon interrupts the mini orgy too. Jared breaks off from kissing to beam in Jensen's direction. "Man, I could feel the floor shake! You get your coffee?"
Jensen's eyes are streaming. He nods, a little shakily, and gratefully accepts a handful of Kleenex from Misha.
(His brain starts asking why Misha has ready access to handfuls of Kleenex. Ponies again. Except Jensen's mom also has an infinite supply of Kleenex, so perhaps Misha is just a prudent and responsible person. Weed aside.)
Finally, he's feeling human enough to say, "Sure. You want to get back to work?"
Alona says, "We ordered pizza. But there's a thirty minute wait, so we could live-run your first appearance, if that's okay? Check we have everything down."
That sounds sensible. No threesomes. No ponies. Work. Jensen nods gratefully.
He is a whole lot less grateful ten minutes later when, trussed like a recalcitrant turkey, and awaiting Jared's "knife-throwing", he feel's Katie's left hand slowly sliding down the back of his jeans.
It's a very deliberate move. Katie is mugging for the imaginary audience, her right arm lifted in a TA-DAH! gesture, showing off Jensen's helplessness. Her free hand, though, is gently playing with the top of his ass-crack. She shifts a little, makes space for her hand, and slides it fully into his jeans, palming his cheek. Smiles at him. "This okay?"
"Uh-" He doesn't know. She's gorgeous, and her hand is gently working its way to part his ass-cheeks, rubbing very lightly yet promisingly up and down the sensitive pucker. Usually, this would be very much okay, but her boyfriend is about to throw knives at Jensen, so…
Jared's voice comes from the other end of the room, and Jensen tenses so hard that his ass-cheeks actually trap Katie's fingers for a moment. Then he tunes in to Jared's voice. "You feeling relaxed, Jen? I know the knives look freaky till you get accustomed. We like to take your mind off it."
The first three blades land. Okay, Jensen knows how this works, and he's not about to get killed by a rogue knife blade. He's mainly here to flinch and react with appropriate levels of fear. Like he's done so many times in Streetwars. Jensen once had a whole fan club dedicated to his looks of terror. He can totally do this.
Jared pauses. "Katie? This is when you need to move in - I have to get at the right arm too, to make the pattern." She shifts. Katie's now standing directly in front of Jensen, about six inches distance separating them. Her arms are a few inches away from her sides, mimicking the posture he has to hold on the knife board. Jared adds, "You think he needs to relax a little more?"
Jensen's really not that tense. Seriously.
Katie's cute smile widens to a positively evil grin, and she says, not turning her head towards Jared. "Sure. I think that would be beneficial." She moves a little closer, kneels down and asks, "Okay for the silhouette?"
Jared's cheerful, "Yep, all within his dimensions," is pretty much muffled from Jensen's point of view by the sound and feel of Katie undoing the zipper on Jensen's jeans.
He knew he was hard. He just maybe hadn't appreciated how hard till this crazy yet amazing woman started to blow him in the middle of their rehearsal space. Turns out, the whole ass-fondling, and possibly also the pseudo-danger emoting, really suits Jensen's libido today. Eyes turned down, he watches Katie wrap her mouth round his aching-hard dick. She looks contented, using her fingers to cover the length of cock that she can't swallow, and working him sweetly, vanilla plain and just damn good, in a way that makes him briefly forget where he is, till the next knife slams into the board beside his right shoulder.
Unseen behind the board, Misha shouts out, "How many more to come, Jay? You gonna do the full silhouette?"
"Seven," says Jared, just before the next knife thuds into position beside Jensen's thigh.
Six. Five. Katie wriggles two fingers into Jensen's fly to play a little with his tightly up-drawn balls. Four. She tilts her head back, lips sucking just the head of Jensen's dick with a regular smack of lips. Jensen's balls attempt to crawl right up inside his body and out of his dick. Three. Two. Katie's hand is still working the shaft of his cock and her mouth is working clockwork-regular, shiny cockhead vanishing and reappearing between her lightly-glossed lips.
One.
The last knife slots perfectly into position beside Jensen's right ear, and he comes, hard and abruptly, onto Katie's upturned face.
When his brain returns to active service, Jensen finds Katie is tucking his dick gently back into his jeans. "You can move away from the board now," she says. "This is where we'll dissolve the background lighting so it pretty much vanishes. You can look grateful to be alive, if you want." He's no longer strapped down. Wow. Must have actually lost a few seconds there. He looks beyond her, to the audience he never quite forgot. Jared and Misha, smiling cheerfully, and Alona, not involved in the trick, and reading a magazine.
It's… really not how Jensen imagines voyeuristic kinky sex scenes usually end. "All okay?" asks Misha. "The knife thing... can be unnerving." Jensen turns to look at the knife board, the perfect outline of his body in sharp objects.
He isn't honestly sure if it's the recent orgasm or imagining the near-death experience if that had been real that sends his knees a little weak, but he's glad when Katie walks with him to the couches. He'd definitely appreciate a break.
The buzzer sounds. "Ooh," says Jared, genuinely excited. "Pizza!"
Jensen closes his eyes. He really, really doesn't understand these people.
Knife-throwing is just the start, more of a warm-up and play up their celebrity appearance than a real chance to show off the team's skills. They sketch the rest of the show, though there's no spare rehearsal time to teach Jensen the tricks he won't be performing. Even just the fleeting references make his skin crawl a little. Sure, when you're involved in a trick and you can see the guts of the carefully-built props that support the illusion, it's relatively easy to understand. And there's no real woo-woo magic, of course, just speed, skill and scarily good planning. But when he doesn't know the background, the Most Dangerous Magician's props are downright unpleasant. Words like hydrochloric or tarantula sound sort of threatening when they are likely to be on your skin soon. (Though Jared and Misha are obsessive tarantula fanboys and attempt to share their enthusiasm and reassurance at top volume when they see Jensen cringing. He is not doing tricks involving spiders. Next contract he gets - if he ever gets another one - that is so going in as a special clause.)
But no, he's not doing tricks with spiders. He is, however chaining Jared to a bedframe. With dramatic gestures.
Beyond a little play dominance, Jensen isn't much for chains. Hasn't been, at least. And technically, this isn't a bedframe, though it looks pretty close - a metal rectangle with slats, but held vertical instead of laying down like a bed should. But 'chaining Jared to a bed' is how Jensen thinks of it, and is possibly the reason he messes up the first four times, not even managing to hook the chains on in the required dramatic and eye-catching pattern. The fifth time, he thinks they're good to go, but there's no sign of Jared slipping out of the frame on cue, ready for Jensen to take his place amid the chains in double-quick time that he will one day master. He hopes.
"Uh, Jared?" Jensen briefly wonders what the premium on Jared's health is. Compared to Jensen, Jared's career is actually going someplace, and he probably needs all his limbs for the whole insanely complex and squirmy magic trick thing. He looks over to where Katie and Alona are practice-switching in and out of a table-box-contraption that makes his head hurt every time he tries to work out how the two of them fit inside. Let alone how they move so damn fast. They don't look even slightly concerned.
And now Jensen looks closely, Jared is trying to stifle a grin. "Dude," he says, "You seriously forgot how this works already?"
Jensen looks at his successful and eye-catching chain-draping attempts. Check. So now Jared pops open the hinged back and… Except for how Jensen neatly wrapped the trailing end of the chain around both parts of the frame, making it impossible to use as intended. It's a tiny error, and therefore a hell of a lot more irritating than a spectacular mess up would have been. He reaches up to fix it, feeling stupid and red about the ears. So he can't even do fake magic tricks right. His career slump just gets funner.
Jared manages to work an arm free enough to grab Jensen's shirt as he fiddles with the chain, which has spitefully wrapped itself into more of a knot than Jensen would have thought possible, except for how it's just part of his general crappy life these days. "Hey," says the freakishly massive magician, in the kind of voice girls use to guys when dumping them for someone prettier. "I practiced - well, we all practiced - for, like, a year before we were ready for the stage. And then we looked like shit till we got a decent agent who helped with our image and got us some stagecraft lessons. You're a pretty amazing performer, Ackles. And you're a crappy magician's assistant because you've had about four hours' practice. But we'll get you there."
Jared Padalecki is, it turns out, one of life's good guys. Jensen kind of hates that. And also kind of adores it and wants to keep Jared chained to a (horizontal) bed for a few weeks, telling Jensen what an amazing performer he is and, you know, getting licked a lot.
Jensen does not lick Jared. He does, however, get the chaining him up part right on the seventh attempt, and by the end of the day, they have the switcheroo more or less working. Just a little more fine tuning, and Jensen will be ready both to have knives hurled at him while not thinking about oral sex, and to chain Jared to a bed before switching places and taking his turn on the bottom. Positive thoughts. He's totally fine with this gig. Not at all apprehensive. Sure, tomorrow involves some fire in Jensen's defenceless vicinity. But at least no tarantulas.
Heading back to his carefully-judged hotel (not too expensive for his budget management in the event he never works again, not too un-actorly cheap in case he gets unlucky with some bored paparazzi), Jensen reflects on his first few hours with the team. One public blow job. A whole lot of laughter. Jensen's confused, but he is pretty sure he likes these guys. These few days together could actually not suck out loud.
Vegas is the best. Jensen always thinks it when he arrives, and is then glad to leave after not too many days have passed. But the first brash glories of the desert city are not to be beaten. He's out there a day early, while Jared's team finish up their New York stage run. It feels odd, after three days solidly in company, to be suddenly a free agent again
It's okay. A little lonely, a little exciting. Vegas, and he can do whatever he wants. Last time he was here, it was a publicity thing for the last season of Streetwars, and Jensen was B list, maybe even lower A list. People pointed and whispered when he walked the floors. Three years ago. Life has changed.
A text, from Katie. Hows the hotel? The hotel is awesome, and he knows she knows that. It's nice she's thinking about him.
People point and whisper, which means Jensen is standing under one of Jared's posters, the ones with Special Guest Assistant JENSEN ACKLES on and his photo from Streetwars days, because that's when most people know him from. It's a weird flashback to celebrity. Not a welcome one, really. He doesn't feel like putting on a show face today. Not till he has at least one of the stage shows under his belt and knows he can do this without making an ass of himself.
His phone vibrates again. From Jared this time. Don't lose it all at once. You and me, poker game at the Mirage, Thursday lunchtime. I am a poker demon, Ackles. A *demon* And a photo of Jared making what is probably meant to be a demon face but looks mostly like a rabid bunny.
It makes Jensen laugh, breaks up the funk that was descending. He plays the slots aimlessly a little, checks out the show bills at a few of the casinos, and decides to boycott the other magic shows in town. He doesn't need to see the competition to know that when Jared and the team get here, it's going to be excellent.
No lie. The first night's show is more than excellent. Flame, acid, water, shadow, tarantulas and showmanship all over. The costumes pop, the lighting is stunning. Afterward, Jensen uses words like awesome and outstanding, and feels like a Bill and Ted reject as he tries to find words to express how impressive they are when live, even to someone who now has kind of an idea how some of it is done.
Though he also notices now it's live just how much they get off on the show. There's a whole lot of touching among the crew. Sometimes it's a blatant tromp l'oeil, with the girls flashing flesh or pretend making-out to draw the audience's eyes away from Misha or Jared in the guts of the trick. Sometimes it's more genuine and a lot more subtle, hands sliding round Jensen's ass or fingers running up his inner thighs as they position him. They all do it, to him and to each other, like the touching is part of the show, and like the show is part of their erotic lives. Which, given that it's their job, makes Jensen boggle a little. If the 9 to 5 makes you hard, do you ever stop working?
It's almost a relief to see there's a moment where their games go a little wrong. As Misha and Alona wiggle and strut to give Jared time to conceal himself, a pained stage whisper rings out. "Guys, there's no space for a hard-on in this fucking box." Jensen tries to stifle the snicker, and totally fails.
It's not like he isn't suffering right along with Jared. Despite his pre-show determination, he spends the whole knife trick hard as a fucking rock, remembering what happened in rehearsal. Thank god, they haven't gussied him up in a tight and shiny outfit, so he hopes the audience don't notice. And it was good to get a little audience reaction on his own account. Definitely some squeals from women who probably remember him more from Heartbreak High than his recent stuttering career. Good for the ego.
These guys, these guys who let it be remembered do not drink coffee, are partiers, though. It's the first night, they have another show in (Jensen squints muzzily at his watch), twelve hours, it's 5am and they are still drinking. And doing magic tricks. Mostly small stuff - Jensen has been asked to pick a card so often he's started to forget there's a world where this doesn't happen every five minutes - like a nervous habit or a comfort blanket. Katie's demonstrates for him how she's safely 'impaled' on an iron spike. It involves the world's most suggestive costume harness, with a fake spike popping out from her lower belly like an aggressively pointed little strap-on. Jensen may possibly have played with the spongy tip a while, wondering whether she has a 'real' dick of her own somewhere. He could go with that. He's pretty sure Katie would be happy with it, too. He loses some time thinking about it. Possibly, he's had enough to drink already.
They're all still on the set, which is surprising. Someone needs to reset all the equipment, right? But the way the team interact with their equipment all the time is habitual, almost loving. "You guys really love magic, don't you?" He's drunk enough that the blindingly obvious feels like a profound statement. The owlish looks he gets back suggest they may even agree.
Jared's now near-horizontal, a bottle of good tequila near his right hand, and very little other sign of sentience. But he's the one that answers. "Since I was a kid. All of us, really. I was this really goofy teen-" Jensen tries not to make a duh face at this point "-and magic seemed so exotic. But when I started to learn how tricks are done, it's so… Real? I guess. There's trickery, but the audience is complicit. They often don't want to know how it's done. And we build this stuff ourselves, just for us." He thumps the nearest set piece with affection. Jensen flashes onto a mental image of Jared, shirtless, in denim and tool belt, building his own set. His libido makes a determined effort to overcome the agave liquor in his system. Mmm, manual labour.
Misha says, almost into Jensen's ear, "We like to play with mystique. But under it all, we're just a bunch of regular polyamorous handypersons who love to entertain." His tongue dips lightly into the whorls of Jensen's ear, and he nips on the lobe.
Jensen could swear that Misha was the other side of the stage when Jared was just talking. But he's almost beyond being freaked by Misha now, and the light touches at his ear are arousing even before Misha starts outright tongue-fucking his earhole. There are hands on his thighs now, and that can't be Misha. Whoever it is wriggles up Jensen's body to face level, and turns out to be Alona. Kind of a surprise; she's been the least hands-on and interactive of the four. Also, the most focused on Katie. And yet.
Jensen's hazy enough that he does little more than smile and enjoy as Alona kisses him, hard and slow, masterful enough to keep him still and obedient, the kissee, not the kisser. After a bit, autopilot takes over, and he's running his hands over her, taking off clothing when the chance comes, and loving the feel of her against him. Someone's soon undoing Jensen's fly and shuffling his lower garments off. It's definitely not Alona, who's currently using her arms to brace herself while Jensen nips and sucks at her breasts. Definitely not Jared or Katie, who have caught up with the action and are outright fucking five feet away, Katie's neat, lithe body on all fours, tiny in comparison with Jared's bulk looming behind her as he fucks into her slow and steady. Katie's whimpering a little with every thrust, and Jensen knows how she feels. In that position, he'd whimper too.
Eventually, he realises that means it's Misha who's stripping him, and Misha's hands rolling the condom on, positioning Alona's hips and guiding Jensen's dick inside her. Hands everywhere, six hands for two people fucking and the sensation of fingers on skin surrounds Jensen as he fucks up into her. With this much alcohol on board, no one is rushing to come, and the set is filled with the soft, wet sounds of bodies connecting, dreamy and endless.
When Jensen comes, he's kissing Misha, who's thumbing Alona's clit to bring her right along for the ride. The tight ripples of her climax pull at his sensitised dick just enough to drag out one last pulse of orgasm, and he groans with the sensation, almost the first sound he's consciously vocalised since they tipped inevitably from chatter into sex.
When his eyes open, he looks over Alona's shoulder where she's collapsed forward on him, boneless and fucked out. Her hair's half over his face, but through it he can watch Jared reared up, hands on Katie's hips, fucking hard and rhythmically into her so her whimpers come more regularly and with greater force. His eyes are fixed on Jensen and Alona. Misha leaves them to their sprawl, walks over to the other couple and slides himself under them on his back, like a mechanic checking a chassis, fingers working on Katie while he mouths at Jared's balls. With the extra stimulation, it doesn't take long for the pair to come in their turn.
No one touches Misha. It bothers Jensen a little, but he's too wrung out and drunk to do much more than shuffle his clothes into vague decency and stumble towards his suite. Tomorrow. He'll work out what's happening tomorrow.
Possibly.
The second night show goes well. Familiar, and smoother than the first. Poker with Jared is awesome, in the sense that Jared loves the game but plays like shit and spends half the night delaying rounds with crazy card tricks that have hardened croupiers giggling. Jensen’s starting to relax and enjoy the prospect of the next night's show, until-
“You want me to what?” Misha is staring at him with limpid calm. Like putting Jensen’s life in danger on a whim is just part of his normality. Given that it’s Misha, probably true. Which is not a reassuring thought. He repeats calmly what Jensen thought he said first time around, "You wanna be buried alive?"
“We like to mix it up a little,” adds Misha, still zen with the situation despite what Jensen suspects is his own popping-eyed, throbbing-veined stress-puppy look. And yes, Jensen has observed that, especially in these live shows which aren’t designed for maximum telegenic-ness. It’s not just Jared that directs things, and the assistants pretty much mix it up. It’s not always a girl with maximum cleavage doing the cute gestures, and it’s not always a guy with visible muscles doing the strength work. Alona in particular actively scares Jensen sometimes when he looks at how much she’s supporting on her slim shoulders. And, of course, they swap roles in other parts of their lives too.
Misha continues, “I often switch out for this. It’s just crouching there till it's time to stand up. Anybody could do it.”
Jensen continues the eye-popping silence.
Misha looks at him a little sadly. “Or, do you maybe not trust Jared?”
Jensen does, in the sense that he would definitely lend Jared fifty dollars (and expect to get it back with interest or cookies), or leave Jared alone with his lover (and expect to find them talking football or dogs when he gets back). With his life, though? He’s only known these guys for a few days. Jared’s really kind of clumsy when he's offstage. And Misha has no sense of danger, so far as Jensen can see, so this level of reassurance is absolutely not reassuring.
He's watched the buried alive trick before. It's not exactly a trick, actually, in that it's quite possible Misha could die when tonnes of sand cascade down onto him while he’s supposedly buried in the coffin. Sure, Jared's hidden alongside in an escape hutch with oxygen in case of disaster, and there's even an emergency airway if you really need to take a gasp, but still, there is actually a danger factor which a lot of the tricks have designed out. Jensen does, in fact, think Jared would shift a lot of earth to save Jensen's life. Or anyone's life, really. The strutting stage persona apart, he's a really soft guy. A people person. But Jensen still hates the idea.
Which, exactly, is why he says yes. Fuck it. He's been too passive for too long. And okay, that's more in a career-slide sense than a volunteer to do something slightly life-threatening. But still. It feels like the thing to do. Go with it. See where it leads. That's his new (temporary) motto.
Jensen knew it was dangerous even before he saw the sheer quantity of safety equipment, the oxygen cylinders and the four-page additional disclaimer that the casino wanted him to sign. Then Katie shakes his hand, and congratulates him on his balls (“I do it just occasionally, but this one freaks the fuck out of me.”) He feels simultaneously like a big hero and a scared little kid. But he doesn't back out. Can't face it. Doesn't want to lose that hero feeling, either. It doesn't suck.
Rehearsal time is short, but they whip through the trick a few times, short-changing the amount of sand that lands in the ‘grave’, till they’re at least sure Jensen can get himself out of the coffin and into safety, and that he won’t simply choke while he’s being 'buried'. He needs the airway, though, or he freaks, and that’s not ideal. But Jared and Misha are convinced it’ll work well enough for one performance.
So Jensen does it. He lies in a coffin, is chained in, the lid is closed, he’s lowered into a tomb and tonnes of earth are piled onto him. Much as he knows how he’s supposed to get out of this, at the exact moment it’s happening, Jensen’s at least 50% certain he’s about to die.
He lives. He laughs, as Misha and Katie hand him up out of the grave when the trick goes perfectly, and the audience gasps and applauds like hell. A small, tight knot of loneliness and failure eases inside of him. It's good. He dared to do the crazy thing, for no goddam reason, and it was almost fun. He catches himself, next morning, thinking that if the acting jobs never come around for him, it’s just possible he could find another career that would suit him.
He doesn’t want to. He wants to act. But he could do something else, not sit on his ass waiting forever for the good times to roll back around. (Not magic, though. Or grave-digging.)
The last night, there’s a party for the end of the short run. Jensen almost groans when they invite him. "Seriously? We partied for the first night! It was, like, two days ago. My liver can't stand the pace."
Katie pats him on the shoulder. “First night? That was nothing, my friend. Just a little hanging out and winding down. We always have a party for the support techs. It’s just a nice thing to do. We’ll be back someday, we’d like them to remember us kindly.”
Jared’s suite is decorated with wizard hats and green balloons when they arrive. Which is so Jared, Jensen almost can’t be bothered to look surprised. There’s Magic Punch, which Alona strongly warns him off, and Jared and the assistants are messing with card tricks and other small stuff for the benefit of the crew. The crew, baffled but cheerful, are apparently enjoying this. Jensen stands back, watching the spectacle. He is actually going to miss these guys. They’re tight-knit, sure, but do they ever know how to welcome outsiders. Katie spends some time teaching Jensen how to 'levitate' a can of coke, courtesy of a fake plastic thumb that should be the most obvious thing in the world but actually freaks out a couple of the newer stage hands when he tries it on them. (Yes, Jensen is a magician, kids. After just a week, Jared's magic has rubbed off on him. Heh. Jensen may be getting a little baked by this point.) Later, Misha hands him a DVD of a BBC drama series with some accompanying career advice (“You should totally be a crime-solving magician, Jensen. This part is so you. Just have to sell a US remake to a network, and we’d be glad to act as consultants-“). Which is sweet, but reminds Jensen of his unemployed-ness and the fact that tomorrow he’s going back to an empty apartment and a schedule lacking any meaningful work.
He keeps right on drinking. Not hugely, but enough that he’s floating pleasantly by the time the crew start to drift off. He’s looking for his room key when Jared lays a hand on his shoulder. He’s right up in Jensen’s space, warm breath on the side of his face. “Stay. Please?” A breath of a kiss somewhere high up on Jensen’s cheekbone, chaste as hell, but promising much. Stuff that Jensen had pretty much stopped hoping for from Jared, whatever he might have shared with the rest of the team.
This has been the single sluttiest phase of Jensen’s life, but it doesn’t really feel that way, even now. Like he’s just been invited to spend time with friends, and this is what friends do. Though, most of his friends don’t have three other naked people already in a bed that appears to have been built specially to hold the vastness of Jared Padalecki and his friends-slash-lovers. And that's what Jensen can now see through the bedroom door. Alona and Katie are lost in each other, Katie riding high on Alona's thigh, shiny-wet fingers slipping between the other girl's legs. Misha naked too, and feathering touches along them both.
Jared follows his gaze. "It's what we do. Last nights are for fun." Jared reaches out a hand. "C'mon Jen. I wanna suck your dick."
Jensen laughs, unstoppably. So much for the legendary cocksucker lips. Guys never, ever say that first. Though, in the end, there's more than enough cocksucking to go round. Jensen doesn't expect to get another night with Jared Padalecki, and he's going to enjoy every minute they have. It's crowded and messy and Alona kicks Jensen in the head at one point, and if anyone asked him to narrate the scene he couldn't have told them exactly who was touching who at any one time, except for how in the end he got to work his fingers slow and slippery into Jared's perfectly tight ass, and fuck the magician while the assistants watched and enjoyed the show, and it felt right in a way that little has lately in Jensen's life.
After, in the dark, with Jared’s sleeping but still-fidgety body at his back, the girls entangled head to toe beside them, and Misha laying along the foot of the bed, outside the covers and still inexplicably untouched by anyone else, Jensen decides that this should be his moment to freak out. He’s been a part of this for just a few days. It's extremely not his own world. He's screwed two beautiful women and an amazing guy, and possibly met some of Misha's unspecified needs in a way he doesn't understand, and risked his life and genuinely had fun. But now it's done.
He really doesn't want to freak out.
He slightly doesn't want to leave these guys forever.
He definitely doesn't want to be a magician's assistant long term.
But he is going to take a look at Misha's pitch idea. And maybe come back for another guest spot next year.
Jensen’s entry to Gary’s office isn’t how it has been the past few months. There’s a swing to his walk, a swagger. A smile, even, and how long is it since he wore one of those habitually, without thinking?
His agent looks a little different too. Like there might be some news of the not-hopeless kind.
Jensen’s ready.