J2 | This Bipolar Love Affair (2/2) | NC-17
part one
JARED
It feels weird to sit at a stool on a Sunday evening and not see Jensen. It’s weird any evening, but somehow this slow Sunday in the bar just twists in Jared’s head and it feels all sorts of wrong.
Last night had really been the night for wrongs. Wrong people, wrong place, wrong reaction. The timing’s never right, so Jared can’t say much on that.
“What can I get you, sweetheart,” Danneel coos when she appears in front of him.
He stares at her as she slides a square napkin in front of him. “Lite.”
“You got it,” she replies, winking before she turns away to retrieve a bottle for him.
Danneel leans against her side of the bar and tips her head towards him. “So, what brings you out tonight?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles, then decides to just ask if Jensen’s there.
“No, he called out,” she says oddly, setting his bottle on the napkin. “Why?”
Jared goes quiet and takes a long sip from the bottle, relishing the cold and sour flavor of beer. He tries to nonchalantly glance around the place. It’s not completely empty; there’re a few patrons at the far end of the bar watching ESPN, but they’re not the usual crowd he sees. They’re weathered old men who likely hang out Sunday evenings for football on the big screen. It makes something stir inside. He wonders if he’s so attached to this place that he’ll be in their seats one day. Maybe still being served by Jensen.
And that’s a sad fucking idea.
“Never took you for the strong, silent type.”
Jared’s eyes flip up to Danneel’s. She smirking, and no matter how gorgeous she is, it’s annoying more than calming. “I’m just tired,” he says. He almost believes it. He’s tired of plenty of things - Jensen avoiding him, ignoring calls, putting his foot down when Jared tries to inch closer.
“Though brooding does look good on you,” she murmurs, leaning closer.
He finally chuckles, smiles a little. It’s not so much that she gets through to him, but that he realizes brooding is pathetic at this point.
…
Late Monday, Jensen finally answers a call. Jared could be ecstatic for it, thankful in all the right ways that Jensen finally picked up, but it’s anything but good when Jensen grumbles hello at him.
“I’m sorry,” Jared says when there’s too much silence following their awkward opening.
“For what?”
Jared knows it’s a damn good question, but he’s not sure of the answer himself. “For whatever’s pissing you off about this whole thing. Whatever’s making you take it out on me.”
Jensen sighs then waits out the moment until Jared’s sure that he’s been hung up on. “You don’t think it has anything to do with you?”
“Does it?” Jared asks hesitantly.
Quietly, yet firmly, Jensen responds, “It’s always been about you.”
“And what did I do then?” he fires back. He can feel it all pull together, all the anger and bitterness, confusion and impatience with Jensen keeping him at arm’s length. It all yanks itself up from his knees and angers him further. “I stepped in and tried to help manage the fight, to help you out and get it over as soon as possible. But all you’re doing is freezing me out. That’s bull shit!”
“Yeah, I know.”
Jared can’t identify the real feelings behind those words. They sound a bit defeated, somewhat angry, but mostly dismissive. He sighs and suddenly manages the strength to stand up for himself/ To force Jensen’s hand. “I’m tired, Jensen. I’m tired of all the back and forth and you ruling it all. I think I should get a say in what happens with the people I wanna be with.”
Jensen seems to agree with a half-hearted, “Yeah.”
“I can’t do it like this anymore. It’s something more between us or nothing.”
Jared waits it out, hangs on and hopes for the right answer. Even when he’s sure he won’t get it. He knows Jensen well enough to understand that when pushed, Jensen will walk.
He waits far longer than he had anticipated because he has to prompt Jensen to speak by sharply calling his name.
“Yeah, alright,” Jensen says. “Alright, Jared. I hear you. I know what you want.”
There’s a rough sigh at the end of Jensen’s response that Jared can’t ignore. He sighs himself, shuts his eyes, and hangs up the phone without another thought or hope.
…
He sees John again. Because he figures he has nothing better to do if he’s avoiding he bar, it’s not hurting anyone to take a second date, and it may in fact help Jared forget that he served Jensen an ultimatum that he knew wouldn’t come to be.
John is still funny, charming, and handsome. He’s full of the right stories to make Jared laugh and the right questions when Jared talks. The evening serves well enough to remind Jared that he deserves and can have someone who will treat him like the real deal. Someone who will see him outside of drunken hook-ups or flirting across a bar.
Sad fact is it’s still not what he wants.
Full on a few glasses of wine and a damned fine steak, Jared heads to the bar. He tells himself it’s to meet up with his friends. He wants to take a little of the edge off his worrying brain and to remember that sometimes, he can just be himself. Don’t have to worry over pushing too much with Jensen or letting too much out too soon on early dates with John. Or what everything and anything means between either of the two.
He sees Jensen at the far end of the bar, but tells himself it doesn’t matter. He’s not here for Jensen; he’s here to relax and talk and laugh with his friends.
He succeeds on all accounts, enough so that when Jensen does finally approach him, he’s loosened up with both alcohol and pleasant conversation. Except the sight of Jensen immediately makes him lock up and he can feel tension run up his spine.
Jensen clears the bartop between them, dropping bottles into a nearby garbage can and wiping the surface down. He then places a fresh Lite in front of Jared and awkwardly smiles, awkwardly says, “Hey there.”
Jared slips a five dollar bill across the bar and smiles in thanks, but Jensen immediately shakes his head and refuses it. Instead of taking it back, Jared stuffs it into the nearby tip jar and smirks, feeling odd and off, but trying to not be in front of Jensen. “It’s not like I ever tipped you well before," Jared jokes.
“You always took care of the bartender.”
It could be just another line from Jensen, and there should be a sharp smile and high eyebrow there. But there isn’t, and it makes Jared confused and suddenly very aware that he is very drunk.
Which is what he blames his next words on. “I went on a date.”
Jensen stares then lifts one shoulder, obviously uncomfortable. He glances away then right back at Jared. His face is stoic and unreadable. “Okay.”
“Just, you know, I’m not pining.”
Jared immediately regrets saying so. Even if he wants to make sure that Jensen knows he didn’t turn up here just to see him. Or at least, it wasn’t the only reason.
“I came out to have drinks with my friends,” he adds quickly. The words feel bulky and sour coming out of his mouth, but he can’t exactly stop them now that he’s started. “It’s not like I wanna date, but you know, have to move on and all that.”
“Well, I hope that works out for you,” Jensen manages to say quite levelly. “The not-dating-dating thing you’re trying out.”
“I mean, I want to date. Just, not the way I was trying before. Like between us.”
Jared shouts at himself to stop talking, but now that he has Jensen’s attention, the waterfall of bad intentions is spilling forth. “Like, it wasn’t working there. So I’m trying something different. Even if it was mostly nice between us. It’s not against you.”
Jensen roughly chuckles. “Funny way of showing it.”
Jared sighs. “I’m not trying to show anything. Just trying to explain. Why I’m here and why -”
“You’ve explained enough,” Jensen insists with his hand up, stopping Jared immediately. He nods stiffly, snaps his towel from his belt, wipes his hands for a few seconds, then gives Jared one of the most singled-out looks he’s ever served. “Good luck, Jared. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Before Jared can formulate a response, Jensen’s off to the far end of the bar and quickly treating new patrons.
Jared has no clue what just happened, or even how or why. Except he’s sure he’ll hate himself more for it in the morning.
…
The sad fact is he hates himself even more the next night when he - predictably - meets up with the crew at the bar and spends most of his time watching Jensen work.
There is something hypnotizing in the quick flips Jensen makes of each glass, the swift way he cranks the handheld bottle opener across a handful of bottlenecks, or how effortlessly he shakes up four different shot combos a few times over for a particularly rowdy group that planted themselves by the dartboards about an hour ago.
There are exactly seven times that Jensen glances up or around and finds Jared staring. Three of those times, Jared shakes himself out of it and acts like he’d been randomly checking out the bar and all of its patrons lined up for Jensen’s or Danneel’s service. The other four, he finds himself staring longer, daring Jensen to be the one to look away first. Jensen is, in fact, the one to turn back to his work each time.
Notably, for the eight times Jared needed a fresh beer, it was Danneel who served him. Each time with a small smirk then a flip of her hair over one shoulder on her way to handling the next customer.
…
Sandy seems to have a better handle on the situation, because she declares she’s proud of him. Her bright chirping when she calls him the next morning is more maddening than an alarm or the birds outside Jared’s window because it’s well before noon and he didn’t get in until four in the morning, drunker than he had planned.
“It’s even better than you just standing up for yourself,” she insists. “Because you should have done that ages ago. Shouldn’t have been hanging on for all that time for someone to change who never was gonna do it for you. It’s so much better now because you have John. John! He’s really, really excited to see you again. He’s excited to know that he finally has a real chance with you and that you’re free and -”
“Wait!” Jared finally manages to cut in, and he doesn’t think there’s a better time to stop her because his headache lets up a bit now that’s she’s stopped rattling off. “He’s glad he finally has a chance with me? What were you telling him?”
“Just that … you were kinda … hung up on someone else.”
“Why would you do that?”
“So he wouldn’t give up on you!” It feels insistent - and controlling - for her to add, “I couldn’t let him walk away before you’d given him a chance.”
“Can you just let me make my own decisions here?”
“Well, Jared, but - ”
“Jesus Christ, Sandy,” he moans. He cannot believe this is what it’s come to. His friends applauding him for something that’s currently making him feel fucked over and lonely. Even if he knows it’s what’s best for him in the long run.
“You make really shitty decisions, Jared,” she says firmly, as if she’s defending herself now and not just reprimanding him.
“But they’re mine,” he argues back. Then he sits up in bed and thinks on it for a few moments. He really wonders if shutting Jensen off was the best decision or just another random, bad one. Here, he hates being pushed by Sandy into something with John, wants to come by it naturally, on his own two feet.
He isn’t sure if it’s fair to set different expectations on Jensen. Maybe it’s unreasonable to not let Jensen find his way in due time and let them still stumble along together.
“Whatever, it’ll be fine,” Sandy breaks into his rambling mind. “You have John now and Jensen’s leaving and -”
“Leaving?”
“Yeah, he’s going back to KC. Everything will be back to normal at the bar. No more pathetic mooning over him and his face.”
Normal? What the hell is normal anymore for Jared? He sure as hell has no clue there and least of all … Jensen is going back KC. Kansas City, his mind supplies, and that’s just more pathetic. There was never any talk of places they’d been or lived and Jared figures it just cements the whole issue.
After more of Sandy’s far-too-invested support, Jared hangs up, gets out of bed, cleans up around his place, and finds some semblance of patience in his suddenly empty, sterile apartment.
Jensen
Tuesday evening is pleasantly calm and easy. There’s a small cluster of folks from happy hour off to the side, taking up three square tables, while just a few other regulars are scattered down the bar. Jensen sits on a barstool in the inner corner of the bar with his feet up on a shelf and a book in hand.
It’s some best seller from a few years ago that no one cares about anymore. Left behind by Danneel in the last year and now picked up by Jensen, lost on anything better to do with his time. Every twenty minutes or so he rises to dish out refills, but always returns back to his seat, lulled by the laugh track of whatever late night sitcom rerun the few guys bellied up to the bar are watching.
The front door squeaks when it swings open. Somehow Jensen hadn’t noticed that, or never cared to worry on it since they’re normally busier than this during his shifts. He’s hardly working on these nights; he’s doing Danneel a favor by being here right now. He looks to the doorway and instantly feels his fingers tighten around the book. It’s Jared, and ultimately a huge surprise.
Even more shocking is the fact that Jensen still can’t stop the quick swirl of his stomach or the instant tightness in his chest.
If keeping Jared at arm’s length had been a huge fucking orchestration, facing him post-break-up-whatever is worse. It’s almost easier, yet feels colder to act non-chalant. To put on this façade of just don’t give a shit, when he does. He gives many.
He had actually been prepared to rise to Jared’s ultimatum. He thought he had, but then Jared told him he was not-dating-dating someone else or whatever the fuck that was, and Jensen couldn’t do anything aside from building an igloo around his sanity and prepare for a long winter.
Still, Jared is a customer and Jensen’s a damn fine bartender. He stands, drops the book under the bar, and heads down to meet Jared ten or so feet away from the other patrons.
“Lite?” Jensen asks even as he’s got his hand in the cooler, fingers closing around the neck of a Miller bottle.
Jared awkwardly, hesitantly, slides onto a barstool. He sounds and looks shaky. “I wasn’t planning - ” After a quick sigh, he says, “Okay, yeah,” and Jensen sets it in front of him. As he wraps his hands around the bottle, he seems to startle himself then reach for his wallet. He puts a twenty down and sadly smiles. “And whatever you want.”
Jensen chuckles, eyes roaming the bar to make a point. “I don’t think anyone would question my taking a drink out of the cooler. You don’t have to buy me one.” Jared doesn’t take the bill back even when it takes a while until Jensen decides the hell with it; he has a Lite, too.
As Jensen tips his head back to drink, he keeps his eyes on Jared. Jared is watching him right back, and any night before that phone call with Jared, when he told Jensen he couldn’t do this anymore, Jensen would accept it. It would be the start of a long night of eyefucking and smirking and flirting until they’d find themselves sweating and panting in Jensen’s bed.
It makes his gut clench, and he hates that. He’d been keeping Jared what he’d deemed far enough away, but it obviously wasn’t if this is how he still feels just looking at Jared. And remembering.
“So,” Jensen says, setting his bottle on the bar and attempting to break the ice.
“Buttons,” Jared replies. It sounds soft, to match Jared’s tiny smile.
Jensen chuckles. It’s like they’re twelve and making jokes. It’s nice. For the split second it lasts.
“So, I heard you were leaving,” Jared finally says.
Nodding, Jensen attempts the maturity he’d dug up when making the decision. “Yeah. Gotta move up and on and all that.”
“KC,” he states more than asks.
Jensen shrugs and leans back on the cooler behind him. He holds the bottle in his lap and drudges up his easiest smile. “Sounded like a good idea at the time.”
Jared looks even more uncomfortable than he did when he first stepped inside, so Jensen figures he’ll save him from talking. Jensen knocks on the bar and smiles as genially as possible. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
It doesn’t seem like anything more should surprise Jensen. Except that Jared leaves not more than five minutes later. And he left a barely drank beer and the twenty on the bartop.
…
The last Saturday Jensen would be working the bar, Danneel insists no one is. She guilts an old bartender - apparently the one who roped her into the place - and friends to cover for them. She argues that Jensen deserves a sendoff away from the place he’d habituated for the last decade.
It’s Tom, Danneel, Jensen, and a few of the regulars who never caused any harm. Ones like Mike and James who spent more time cracking jokes and pranks with Tom and Jensen in the early evenings, before the real alcoholic monsters came out to play. Or Katie and Aldis, who seem to be the only successful love story to come out of the bar and became staples during the week when their second-shift jobs allowed them to stop in after hours.
Katie and Aldis are alternating sentences as they breeze through the laughable arrangements of their low-key, fifty-guest wedding from a few months ago, well before that they’d all last seen each other. Somehow it’s not grating in the slightest for Jensen to sit at a round, high-top table of a cheesy local sports bar while downing Leinenkugel on special and listening to two old friends discuss marriage and receptions and dollar dances.
It feels normal and comfortable in a way he hasn’t known in a long while. A long, oak bar can be limiting and isolating, and here he feels open enough to laugh and joke and even call Aldis out on allowing Katie to put him in a pale blue cummerbund.
Aldis rolls his eyes, waves a hand at Jensen in dismissal. “Man, the shit you do when you’re in love? Don’t even ask.”
“Still a big pussy,” Mike cuts in just before taking a long sip of his draft pale ale.
“Yeah, but now he’s Katie’s pussy,” Danneel adds.
Tom and James lean forward, wholly interested with a spark in their eyes. Tom’s the one to say, “I’m utterly interested to hear more about Katie and her pussy.”
Jensen merely leans back and watches his friends crack up and playfully fight over that comment. He smiles and feels oddly calm about the whole mess in leaving the bar. Maybe they can all still meet up like this, spend random nights together as they catch up on life and relive their pasts.
Danneel’s warmly smiling at him from the next stool. She pats his knee with a wink. He’s certain he’ll at least keep up with her from time to time. He can’t not hear what’s next up for the bar and what cretins are causing the next drama-soaked storylines. Even if he’s decided he’s far past the want to live it every day.
It takes a few seconds to realize that Danneel’s hand tightening around his knee is more of her own kneejerk reaction than any sort of passing advance. She nods to the side, where she’s also staring, and Jensen sees it. Or him, rather. Jared.
He looks unkempt in an ill-fitting hooded sweatshirt and his hair a mess as if he’s been spending the entire night dragging his hands through it. He’s also seemingly in a heated trivia match with a table full of T-ball kids about ten feet from him.
Jensen can barely make out the words on the flat screen hanging over the bar; they’re blurry and scrolling too fast, but he gets that Jared knows the answer in seconds, fistpumping with his tablemates - people Jensen’s never seen before. The three guys with Jared, big guys built like he is, all playfully taunt the young boys when the screen declares Padalecki as first place over Tballers. The whole show is complete with raspberries.
There’s this perplexing want to get up and go to Jared. Jensen doesn’t know why or how to stop it, but it’s welling up high. So bad, in fact, that he starts bouncing his knee up and down in place of actually moving off the stool.
“Jensen?” Danneel asks suddenly.
He flinches and stares at her.
She furrows her brows and turns away, muttering into her beer, “Okay, weirdo.”
“I’m fine. All good here,” he insists. Then grabs his pint glass and easily finishes off the last quarter of his beer. “Except I need more beer. And a piss.”
Jensen’s gone from the table, and back even faster after a short stop in the bathroom. But he stalls a few feet from the table, just behind Jared who’s currently laughing with Danneel and Tom.
“You leave the bar deserted or what?” he asks them.
“It’s in capable hands. We hope,” Danneel adds with a laugh.
“Besides, what kind of trouble will there be if you’re not there?” Tom adds in.
That hits Jensen in the gut. His friends think - they know - that Jared is at the center of drama in the bar.
He suddenly wonders why he even bothers thinking about Jared anymore. He’s leaving that place and moving on. He doesn’t need anyone occupying more space in his brain.
Except Jared turns slightly and spots Jensen hovering a few feet away. He gives a cautious little wave, an even tinier smile. With a few quick fingers through his hair, it looks a bit tamer and now his cheeks are pink, and he appears so endearing.
Shit. Jensen immediately remembers why he ever thinks of Jared.
It’s been a long time since he’s been in deep, but he knows he’s in really fucking far with Jared. It’ll take a crew of spelunkers a month to find the bottom of it all.
His friends at the table are now looking at them oddly, surveying the silence. Jensen forces a smile and pats Jared on the shoulder as he passes to sit back down. “What brings you out amongst the normals?” he jokes.
“Guys’ night out. Brother and cousins,” he says with a small huff, like it’s fun, yet Jensen can tell it’s forced.
Danneel twists to look back at the table and grins. The other three Padaleckis aren’t as good looking as Jared, but they’re in the same gene pool and it’s encouraging her, apparently. “Why not bring the guys over?”
“What?” their friends call out in differing measures of bother.
“What, what?” she asks. “We drink with Jared every night we’re on shift, but we can’t tonight?”
“It’s Jensen’s going away night, you moron,” Katie points out, which sets Danneel off to bicker back.
Immediately, Jared cuts into the minor argument. “Don’t worry about it. You guys enjoy your last night together and I’m gonna go back to my table. Forget I was ever here.”
With one last look, Jensen feels Jared’s last line chill him over.
…
He hadn’t planned to, but he gets just drunk enough that going to their bar to finish the night seems like the smartest, most sensible idea.
Even smarter and more sensible is talking to Jared when they end up next to each other. “First for everything, huh?” Jensen jokes when he points out they’re actually on the same side of the bar for one.
“Yeah, huh,” Jared says oddly. He bites his lower lip and a dimple pops in his cheek. Jensen somehow manages to keep his finger from reaching for it. “I didn’t think you’d all end up here for the night.”
Jensen looks down into his beer bottle, judging how much he has left. Not much, and he finishes it off. “It’d sounded like a good idea at some point.”
“Some point?”
“Far before I realized that no one bartends like us,” Jensen says, glaring down the bar at Danneel’s friends who are covering for the night. They’re hot enough to be gathering all sorts of attention and tips, and they’re feeding the patrons in the corner shots like they’re never-ending. But they’re obviously not professional enough to share the service.
“Oh, hell with this,” Jensen mutters and then hops up and over the bar. Or that’s what he’d planned before considering how much he’s had to drink so far. He more like slumps over the top, rolls over, and stumbles to his knees on the other side.
“Are you okay?!” Jared shouts over the crowd’s roar of surprise as he leans over to check on Jensen.
Jensen would like to think he pops back up smoothly; he’s aware it’s not all that fast or slick when he gets to his feet and smirks at Jared. At the very least, he has his balance and focus in tact when he looks at Jared’s worried face. “Always wanted to do that.”
“Fall off a bar?” Jared asks with a shocked chuckle.
Jensen brushes that off to spread his arms out along the bar. “So whatcha want? On the house.”
Jared laughs again and aims an obvious look at the bartenders of the night. “I really don’t think you’re able to make calls for on the house anymore”
“Since when did you have morals about free alcohol?” he asks, then switches gears. “But hey, if you’d rather be served by Victoria’s Secret, then go for-”
“No, no, no. Not at all.” He’d said it quickly and seems just as alarmed by it as Jensen is. Even more so at the way he’s grasping Jensen’s wrist.
Jensen flips his hand to hold Jared’s and tug a little. He smiles when Jared’s fingers wrap around his own. “What do you want?”
Jared shrugs and takes in the multitude of bottles lining the wall behind Jensen. “Something strong, a little bitter.” His eyes drop down to Jensen’s face, as if he’s taking it all in. “And familiar,” he finishes with a minor smile.
Something tingles down Jensen’s spine and he stutters forward, has designs to pull Jared across the bartop and kiss him, give Jared exactly what he’s asking for. What he’s always wanted. But then Jared’s jostled by excitable customers trying to wedge their way in to be served and the moment’s gone.
The customers nudge Jared out of the way, yet he’s still there, bringing his gaze back to Jensen. “What I really want is to talk to you before you leave.”
“Leave tonight?”
“No, for good.” Jared shifts himself back against the rail. “Before you move.”
“Hey, order or get out of the way!” some guy in an ugly block-patterned button-up, likely barely out of college, insists as he tries to budge Jared from the bar.
“Before I move?” Jensen mumbles, ignoring the idiot. He’s frozen in place. All the ruckus of the excitable, drunken patrons and the jukebox cycling through the newest dance hits fades out and Jensen’s ears buzz. Jared thinks he’s moving, Jared wants to talk before he moves and yet Jensen’s not going anywhere. Suddenly all noise pounds back and he frowns at Jared. “I’m not moving.”
“To KC,” Jared insists. “Sandy said so last week.”
“Sandy?” Jensen’s dazed, feeling unsure on his feet, wondering why Sandy is telling Jared things like this. “I’m not moving,” he repeats. “I’m going to Kendall.”
“Dude, seriously!” the obnoxious frat reject yells.
“The college?” Jared asks, also ignoring the douche.
“Yeah, Kendall College. Gonna get some credits under my belt before transferring to State.”
“KC,” is what Jared mumbles, even as the same idiot is still there, trying to shove Jared out of the way. It doesn’t work; Jared’s pretty fucking big compared to anyone in this place.
“Are you gonna serve us or what?” the guy asks, and Jared and Jensen both yell, “No,” before looking at each other again.
“Can we talk before you leave tonight?” Jared asks.
And just because Jensen can’t manage patience anymore, not when it comes to Jared or this bar or the fucking moron still sitting there expecting Jensen to serve him, Jensen steps up onto a shaky shelf behind the bar and moves to hop onto the bar top. Jared holds out a hand for him, an arm to the side to clear space, and then tugs him through the crowd with their hands firmly together.
Once they’re outside, Jared lets go of his hand and swings away from the front door, muttering something about Jensen moving because of him.
“What? Why?” Jensen asks, utterly confused about what Jared’s meaning.
“Because I was still always around the bar, and like you were sick of seeing me all the time. Like you couldn’t ever lose me or something.”
Jensen’s stomach drops, as does nearly every other muscle in his body. He feels sluggish and drained just trying to think up the right response to that. He murmurs, “I can’t,” because it’s so goddamn true.
Jared frowns and glances away, nodding sadly, and Jensen can’t handle that. He moves right in front of Jared, plants himself in Jared’s space, and stares up into those sad, soulful eyes.
“It’s like I can’t get rid of you,” Jensen admits. “I turn around and you’re still there.”
“This isn’t helping,” Jared mumbles pathetically.
Jensen chuckles and rings his fingers into the front of Jared’s shirt. Shakes him a little. Smiles a little, too. “You’re stuck in me. I couldn’t lose the feeling of you if I tried. Not sure I want to sometimes.” After a moment Jensen sighs because Jared isn’t showing any signs of comprehension. “Why do you think I kept letting you back to my place?”
“But you said no.”
“I never said no.”
“Yeah, you di-”
Jensen huffs. “I said a lot of shit, but when you asked, I didn’t say no.”
Jared frowns and huffs. Pulls Jensen’s hands away from his clothes. “You brushed me off on the phone when I said I wanted more, that I wanted everything.”
Jensen bites his lower lip, sighs, and scratches at the scruff along his jaw. He wonders what all would be different if they’d ever understood one another. “I thought I was saying yes, then you showed up at the bar with that stupid not-dating-dating spiel, and you’d moved on.”
“I never moved.”
Just like that, Jensen is spurred to action, taking what’s right in front of him, making it count. He slides his hands over Jared’s neck and tugs, brings him down, and kisses the hell out of him, taking both their breaths away in the process.
They get so lost in it, Jared’s arms wrapped tightly around his back, Jensen’s snug around Jared’s neck, that they both ignore the catcalls of partiers parking in the lot and heading into the bar. They’re so far gone that Jared barely gets out, “Still just fucking around?”
“No bar, no drama,” Jensen pants out once he’s pulled away. He keeps close and breathes heavily, shares the air with Jared. “No more drama, Jared.”
Jared nods and kisses Jensen with wet, smacking lips. He looks over his shoulder to the building then warily at Jensen. “But, we can still come once in a while, right?”
He shrugs in their hold. “I’m guaranteed free drinks so long as Danneel or Tom are behind the bar.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Hell yes,” Jensen replies firmly.
JARED
It’s familiar to come back to Jensen’s house, to stumble through the halls with hands and mouths everywhere, and to fall into his bed. But everything feels different. There’s strange electricity in the air, static flickering all around them, hard breathing echoing off the walls as they tug one another’s shirts off and move towards the bed.
Jensen seems nervous, even when his moves are sure as he sits at the edge of his bed and tugs on Jared’s belt to bring him closer.
Jared can’t stop the stirring of nerves, little pricks rising from his toes and through his knees to make him stumble a step, and right up through his chest, which forces his lungs to catch. He shivers when Jensen smoothly undoes his belt, the button and zipper of his jeans, and peels them down to his thighs. He shakes even worse when Jensen skates his hands up Jared’s sides and leans forward to mouth at the head of Jared’s cock pressing hard inside his briefs.
“Oh God, yeah” Jared mumbles. He sets his hand to the top of Jensen’s head, the other resting on his shoulder so he doesn’t completely fall over with how good this feels. How captivating it is for Jensen to go slow, to take his time and center his attention on Jared. It’s been a long while since Jared’s enjoyed this view, so he plants his feet and sticks with it.
Jensen’s hands slide back down Jared’s body, around his hips, and settle on his ass. His fingers hold softly then grip and pull Jared closer, massage as he tongues over the now-damp dark fabric of Jared’s underwear. Jensen breathes deep and tugs at the sides of the waistband to pull them down.
Jared looks down to Jensen’s eyes and is shocked to find them soft and wondrous, not dark and needy like so many times before. Jensen closes them after a few long moments and sucks at Jared’s cockhead. All air punches out of Jared’s lungs at the sensation, and he clenches his eyes shut as he rocks on the heels of his feet.
Randomly, because he has to concentrate on something that will allow him to last, Jared asks, “What’re you going to Kendall for?”
Jensen pops off of Jared’s dick and looks up his chest, resting his chin at Jared’s lower abdomen. “Really? Right now?”
Jared fingers the edges of Jensen’s hair, shrugs with a small smile, and Jensen chuckles.
“Phys Ed,” he replies then takes Jared all the way into his mouth.
“Oh god, that’s hot,” Jared pants.
Jensen slides off and lazily strokes Jared’s dick as he smirks. “Phys Ed or me taking you down?”
“Both. Or whichever won’t make you stop.”
“Why do you think Phys Ed is hot?” Jensen asks, then licks a positively taunting strip along Jared’s dick.
Jared shivers and rests both hands on Jensen’s shoulders as he subconscious rocks forward, momentarily losing balance. “You in short shorts? You fucking kidding me?”
“That may have been part of the decision making process.”
“Really?”
“No,” Jensen chuckles, and so does Jared. Suddenly, this easy laughter between them makes it feel natural and back to normal. With the added bonus of real feelings now obvious in Jensen’s eyes when he leans back to stare at Jared. “Come here,” he says, yet it sounds more like a question. As if Jared wouldn’t.
Jensen helps Jared out of his pants and underwear then scoots back on the bed with Jared following. He returns the favor, tugging the slim-fitting, sinful denim down Jensen’s legs. These are definitely a pair he needs to see on Jensen’s ass, in the daylight. Maybe in the morning he’ll ask for that.
And then Jared stalls, hovering over Jensen, who is now completely naked like Jared, and wondering what will happen next. After the sex. After sunrise.
“You’re always thinkin’ too much,” Jensen chides. He tugs under Jared’s arms and shuffles them to the side so they lie down, facing each other. Running his hand over Jared’s face, Jensen fondly smiles and slides closer. He slips his leg between Jared’s and tilts his hips just right so they’re flushed tight from chests down to feet with ankles curled around the other’s.
Jared gets lost in it, can’t do anything but kiss and touch back. He doesn’t even try to make a move. He just lets it all unfold around him. He does his best to capture all the tiny sounds from Jensen’s lips, every swirl of his tongue, each twist of his hips.
They’re just moving against one other with hands gliding across every spare, reachable inch of skin, until Jensen tugs Jared closer and the force of it makes Jared roll over and onto Jensen, trapping him between his body and the mattress. Jared rises up on one elbow and stills. He forces himself to watch Jensen’s eyes, dazed and blown wide, flicker across Jared’s face until he smiles up at him.
This really is like nothing he’s seen before.
Jared cants his hips forward and Jensen tips his head back with a withered moan. Jared does it again to draw the sound out of him over and over again, just rocking down into Jensen and then sucking along the column of Jensen’s throat, tonguing over the stubble that grows thicker up to his jaw. He feels power here, grabs hold of it, and catapults them forward as he rocks along the groove of Jensen’s hip and bites the hinge of Jensen’s jaw.
Once Jared feels himself getting close, he reaches between them and palms their dicks together and fucks into the channel of his fingers, along with Jensen. He can barely breathe, but he forces hard kisses from Jensen. He plunges his tongue into Jensen’s mouth and ravages.
Jared lets it all go and Jensen seems to do the same, allowing Jared’s manic assault so long as they both get off. Which they do. Both with shouts long moments apart, but their heaving chests are pressing tight together as they come down without crashing immediately back to the mattress.
When Jared’s shoulder shakes from being propped up for so long, he drops down to the side, partially lying across Jensen’s torso, but he doesn’t have the energy to move right now. Maybe in five seconds. Or minutes.
It turns into hours because next he knows is that the sun is out and light is filtering through the cream curtains of the double window across from him.
He snuffs a breath as he wakes more, inhaling the dark, salty scent of … Jensen’s armpit, which he is currently camped out in.
Jared flinches away and when he manages to crack his eyelids fully open, he has Jensen chuckling at him.
“Good mornin’,” Jensen rumbles, voice thick and sleepy. And very fuckable.
Jared scrubs a hand down his face as he mumbles. “You, too.”
“How’re you feeling?”
He logs his body and comes up with, “Headachy. A little crusty.” He runs a hand over his belly and remembers how they came against each other and then passed out directly after.
Jensen snorts. “You ain’t the only one.”
“At least I don’t stink,” he adds, reliving how he’d woken up.
“You make me work up a sweat, don’t blame me.”
Jared glances up to Jensen’s amused face and winds up smiling, too. It starts to feel like every other morning they’ve woken up to, so he decides to test it. “And I’m hungry.”
“Of course you are, cupcake.” Jensen closes his eyes then spins away to sit at the edge of the bed, scratching the back of his head as he reaches down to grab clothes. Then he tosses a look over his shoulder. “You wanna shower then eat?”
Shower. Jensen’s proposing a shower then food, which is twice as much as he’s ever offered before. “You’re making me breakfast?”
“No,” he insists, swatting Jared with his shirt. “But I’m willing to pay someone to do it for me.”
“I’m in,” Jared says quickly. There’s no way he’ll pass this up. Then his mind and mouth betrays him by asking, “So, we’re really doing this?”
Jensen shifts to look at Jared. “Doing what?”
Jared waves his hand around for a few seconds. “Like showering. And getting food together, and …”
“Like everything?”
Jensen is smirking and Jared wants to punch him for how easily he’s deflecting real questions and answers.
As if he can tell Jared’s still hesitant, Jensen angles back towards him, nearly upside down yet right there. “I’d rather trip through everything than nothing at all. So yeah, if you’re up for it, I wanna go shower together like you always wanted, and grab breakfast together like you always need to, and maybe come back here and just hang out or whatever …”
With a small smile, Jared finishes, “Like we never did.”
Jensen shrugs and Jared smirks at him, runs his hand over the scruff of his beard. He even scratches his fingertip through it just because he can.
“First time for everything,” Jared murmurs.
Reaching backward, Jensen grabs hold of Jared’s neck and tugs him down, crushing their mouths together. When he lets him go, he clears his throat. “So now you’ve gone from an asshole bartender to an unemployed gym student. How’s it feel?”
Jared can read the hesitancy in Jensen’s mocking. Somehow that makes this moment even better. “Real good,” he mumbles before taking Jensen’s mouth again.