be kind, unwind, 3/6

[harwhon]

XV.

"Rero" eighteen looks exactly the same as number four did, everything cream-colored and beige and smelling of oils and lavender, relaxing lounge music humming in the background. Only difference here is that it's not Genevieve who's standing by the table with the oils and lotions, rearranging stuff, but - holy mother of God - it's a tree.

It's a gigantic, enormous tree of a man that's got his back turned to him, apparently oblivious to the fact that his client's just walked in. The infamous Jared isn't at all what Jensen had expected. When he thinks of massages and spas and everything that goes with it, he thinks of frail and gentle people. Skinny, tiny and soft - like Genevieve and Sandy. But this guy - Jensen is not short himself, but he can tell that Jared has a good couple of inches on him, easily. He's got longish brown hair that isn't wrapped up neatly in a pony tail (as it should be according to rules and regulations, Jensen is sure of it), but it's just carelessly messed up - as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t even care to look in the mirror. He's wearing what Jensen assumes is the men's uniform of Sandover, very similar to what the girls are wearing, only it's a soft brown instead of cream, and the fabric doesn't do a thing to hide Jared's broad shoulders or his tan, muscular arms. Jensen's pretty sure this man is the exact opposite of gentle. In fact, he could probably break Jensen without even breaking into a sweat.

His throat goes dry at the mere thought of it, which prevents him from speaking - even if he knew what to say.

Jared turns around, then, and realizes he's got company. Jensen sees the look of slight befuddlement on his face and again has to admit the guy is nothing like he'd imagined. He may have the body of a professional boxer, but he's got the eyes of a newborn puppy and - he notices when Jared shakes off the confusion - the infectious smile of a five-year-old toddler.

'Hey, man,' Jared says, grabbing Jensen's hand and slapping him on the shoulder as if he's greeting an old friend, not a complete stranger. 'Didn't hear you come in. Hope you haven't been waiting long?'

'No,' Jensen says, eyes sliding down to his hand that Jared's still shaking, as if he expects something more, but Jensen isn't sure what.

Eventually, he lets go and takes a step back, taking Jensen in. He smirks and crosses his arms, after a moment, and says, 'Why, mister Welling, I guess you've had some work done.'

Jensen winces and rubs a hand over his face - of course, a couple of minutes ago, he was worried Jared might kick him out for not being a regular client, so how could he have forgotten to introduce himself? 'Right, I'm sorry, I-'

'Don't be,' Jared says, clearly amused, as he leans against the massage table.

'Genevieve was late, so we switched, swapped places,' he continues, and mentally kicks himself when he realizes he still hasn't said his name. What happened to his people skills? If his last massage with Genevieve was awkward, he can't even begin to imagine what this one is going to be like with this kind of rocky start. 'I'm Jensen, Jensen Ackles.'

'Hello, mister Ackles,' Jared says, smile still on his face. 'I'm Jared. How can I help you?'

'Jensen,' he repeats emphatically, insisting for the first time in possibly a year that people immediately call him by his first name. Yet somehow, it seems weird for this giant to call him mister - especially if he's going to be lying on his table half-naked. It’s not like either one of them has been sticking to protocol today. 'You don't mind the switch?'

'Not at all,' Jared says happily, rubbing his hands together, and Jensen gets the impression he’s really genuine about it. 'I love to get my hands on some fresh meat. Just tell me where you want me.'

Jensen raises his eyebrows, startled, but can't keep from laughing until Jared rolls his eyes, waggles his fingers at him and amends, 'Where you want these, for your massage, pervert.'

For a moment, Jensen is worried that Jared is serious about it, that he's grossed out, but then the guy giggles. Not like a smirk or a roar of laughter, it’s an actual honest-to-god giggle and that sets Jensen off too.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to laugh at that. I must’ve asked a hundred people the same thing and you’re the first one to think it’s funny,’ Jared says as he puts a towel down on the massage table. He stops and points at Jensen. ‘You gonna keep those on while I’m working on you?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jensen says again, quickly, and starts fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

‘Like I said, don’t be,’ Jared tells him, clearly amused by Jensen’s reaction. ‘And don’t be nervous. If you are, it means I’m not doing my job right.’

‘You haven’t done anything.’ Jensen flinches when Jared laughs at the apologetic tone of his voice and tries to save face by adding a feeble, ‘yet.’ Which only makes Jared laugh harder. Well, at least someone’s getting some entertainment out of this.

‘It’s enough to wind you up tighter than a spring,’ Jared counters. ‘Or are you always this jumpy?’

‘Depends on who you’re asking,’ Jensen answers with a weak smile. ‘I’m pretty sure my colleagues would say yes. Which is why they sent me here, I suppose.’

‘I’m not asking your colleagues.’ Jared’s expression is gentle and friendly, but Jensen can tell he’s deadly serious when he asks, ‘You don’t wanna be here?’

‘No, I meant-‘ Jensen sighs, hands dropping to his sides from his shirt that’s still only half unbuttoned. ‘I’m, I haven’t done this thing before. I saw Genevieve once but I get uncomfortable in these situations. Like, is it awkward when I talk to you? And am I supposed to take off my boxer shorts?’

Jared smiles again and takes a couple steps closer. ‘Jensen, you’re not supposed to do anything. That’s the whole point of these things. You’re not here to serve me, it’s the other way around. So if you don’t wanna talk, then you don’t talk. And if you want to, then you do. You can even decide if you want me to listen or not.’

Jensen nods and Jared gives him another pat on the shoulder before he moves towards the door. ‘I’ll give you a moment to relax and undress and when I get back, I’ll massage a bit of everything. Just get up on the table with your face down when you’re ready.’

‘Thanks,’ Jensen says, feeling a whole lot more at ease and gets back to his shirt. He turns when he hears Jared call his name from the door.

‘As for those boxers,’ Jared says, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, ‘keep ‘em on for now. We’ll work up to that slowly.’

And for the first time since he’s set foot in Sandover, Jensen full-on laughs out loud and feels some of the tension seep right out of his body, as if it’s another shirt he hadn’t taken off yet.

*

Mike wasn’t lying, Jensen thinks when Jared’s working him over. Calling his massage just a massage would be like saying football’s just a game and sex is just having fun. It in no way comes close to describing how amazing it is.

Jensen thinks this might have something to do with the sheer magnitude of Jared’s hands, but as it is, he couldn’t care less - just so long as he keeps doing this.

Jared comes to Jensen’s neck, fingers kneading rhythmically on his muscles and rubbing oil into his skin, and Jensen’s mind practically goes blank with pleasure. He barely manages to stop himself from moaning out loud. Jared’s hands still for just a second before they come down heavily on the base of his skull, pressing into the bumps there. For a moment, the dull, almost-negligible headache he’s been ignoring for ages spikes, as if someone just drove a sharp, white-hot poker through his eyeballs and into his brain. Jensen hisses and flinches, but Jared persists, slowly rubbing in calming, soothing circles with his thumbs and Jensen feels the pain dissipate completely, as if it were never there.

‘Man, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’ve never felt muscles this high strung,’ Jared says suddenly.

‘Keep your hands on me and I won’t mind anything ever again,’ Jensen slurs without thinking. As soon as he hears himself say it, though, he can feel his face go red and cracks open an eye to see Jared’s reaction.

He’s smiling, working those dimples for all they’re worth, but he doesn’t say anything and Jensen immediately worries he’s ruined it by running his mouth. He clears his throat and tries to speak, find something to say to get rid of the awkward atmosphere, but Jared stops him.

‘Don’t tense up,’ he says as his fingers move back to that one sore spot. ‘And stop thinking. I like you better when you’re not doing it.’

‘Just because you’re not,’ Jensen blurts. He’s without an internal filter today, apparently.

For a second, he thinks he’s really blown it, but then he looks at Jared again and sees he’s shaking with laughter. ‘That’s more like it,’ he says as he pulls on the waistband on Jensen’s boxers and lets it crash into his skin with a loud snap before he moves to massage him further.

Jensen doesn’t really mind.




XVI.

‘No, it’s my round,’ Jensen says when he notices Chris is about to order them more drinks and it effectively shuts up the table. ‘I’ll get this one.’

‘You sure?’ Chris asks, as if he’s just suggested to chop off his left hand instead of paying for the beers.

‘It’s seven fifteen, Jensen,’ Tom says and clearly expects that to change his mind.

‘I can read the time, Tom, thanks,’ he says, confused, and fishes out his wallet anyway. When he gets back from the bar, three beers in his right hand and two in the left, they’re all staring at him as if they’ve never seen him before.

‘So I guess that means you liked Jared’s massages better?’ Tom asks with a grin when Jensen sits down and starts distributing the drinks. ’That’s tough. I’m not swapping more dates with you. Genevieve’s cute and all, but it ends there.’

‘Shit, he sure worked a number on you,’ Mike says and salutes Jensen with his bottle. ‘And you thought I was exaggerating.’

‘What are you guys talking about?’ he asks, completely befuddled.

‘It’s seven fifteen and you haven’t yet pulled out your cell to write a memo to yourself. You haven’t left yet. And this is our third round,’ Steve fills him in. ‘I can’t even remember when this last happened. Man, I gotta get me onto that kid’s list.’

‘I’m not swapping with you, either,’ Tom says immediately as he points at Steve, expression deadly serious. ‘It’s Mike’s turn.’

‘Forget it,’ Mike nearly yells, his arms outstretched as if he’s talking to a crowd. ‘There’s nothing I would not rather part with. Except my life. Except my life. Except my life.’

‘Stop raping Shakespeare,’ Jensen says awkwardly, hoping to steer the conversation onto another topic. Chris narrows his eyes at him, though, and Mike elbows Tom in the side and smirks at him. ‘This has nothing to do with Jared. I’m just trying to have a nice ending to a nice day, that’s all.’

It’s true. Today has turned out - against all odds - to be a ridiculously good day. He managed to get most of his work done, had a very satisfying meeting with the people from Vaughan Insurance, he’s finally shot of that tension in his neck and shoulders that he thought he’d learned to live with and on top of that, he found out it was a “best of the eighties”-day on the radio.

‘A nice day that just happened to start with Jared’s nice hands getting all over you.’ Mike says with a leer. ‘Don’t tell me that’s a coincidence.’

‘It’s still just a massage, man,’ Jensen says uncomfortably. He doesn’t even believe his own words.

‘Oh, you did not,’ Mike says, one eyebrow raised. ‘Heathen.’

‘Jesus, Mike,’ Jensen tries again. ‘The way you keep fawning over this guy, people would think you’re crushing on him.’

‘Maybe I am,’ he says and Jensen, Chris and Steve stop to stare at him, waiting for an explanation. ‘I heard chicks dig it.’

‘You used that line already,’ Tom says as if he’s heard the story a million times before. ‘It didn’t work and Julie kicked you out when you tried to make out with her boyfriend to prove yourself.’

‘True. This place is phenomenally dreary,’ Mike admits dramatically. ‘I think I need a change of scene, find a new audience.’

‘Well, good luck with that,’ Chris says, pulling a face. Jensen could swear he’s actually grossed out by the guy and he has to laugh. Chris turns to him and smiles too. ‘You’re much easier to like, like this. Remind me to send that Jared-kid a thank you note.’

‘Shut up, asshole,’ Jensen says and laughs even harder.




XVII.

When he gets in to work the next day at eight, Mike is sitting at his desk and playing with his letter opener. As per usual, he’s got his boots in the leather armchair and Jensen can’t help rolling his eyes.

‘Mike,’ he says by way of greeting as he slams his briefcase down on his desk.

‘You’re late,’ Mike says without looking up. ‘I thought you’d already be here, slaving away. But that’s okay, it’s not like I had anything to do because I can delegate. I didn’t mind the wait.’

‘For what?’ Jensen asks.

‘Your apology,’ he answers as if it’s obvious.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Apology accepted,’ Mike says with a smile as if he doesn’t know how lame that reply really was and he puts the letter opener down. ‘You know, everyone’s skeptical about Jared at first. If I hadn’t felt it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it either.’

Jensen slumps his shoulders - still impressed by how loose and relaxed his muscles are - and sighs heavily. He doesn’t even have the heart to be annoyed with Mike, because in all honesty, the guy’s right. ‘Yeah.’

‘That doesn’t sound like the happy sigh of someone who’s experienced the splendor that is Jared Padalecki,’ Mike says after a moment. ‘If I’d known, I would have let someone more worthy into our select club.’

‘Don’t I have to know the secret handshake first?’ Jensen asks absently as he starts rummaging through his files.

Mike laughs as if he’s taken completely by surprise by Jensen’s remark. ‘There’s a three time minimum before we can teach it to you.’

‘Then you can save yourself the trouble,’ he says. ‘I’m not going back to Sandover.’

‘What?’ Mike stares at him, entirely at a loss for words. Jensen makes sure to remember this occasion. It might never happen again. It’s true, though. Jensen gave long and hard thought to it and figures this is the best thing he can do.

‘I’m not on Jared’s list, Mike,’ he says eventually. ‘Tom and I switched places, but now I’m back to Genevieve. Which was awkward and uncomfortable and had me going home more stressed than I came in. I’m not gonna pay a small fortune for that.’

‘Such drama,’ Mike says.

‘Common sense,’ Jensen corrects him harshly. ‘I’m ninth on the waiting list to get in with Jared and I have no intention of waiting that long. He’s not that good.’

‘You’re lying and you know it.’

The world has to be ending, Jensen decides. Mike is never right, and definitely not twice in one morning. ‘Whatever,’ he says weakly. ‘If I’m lucky, I’ll get in in a year. A year. And that’s if no one wealthier or more important passes me by. God, how did you do it?’

‘Luck,’ Mike says and shrugs. ‘Sandover came to me for the PR when they’d just opened. Gave me a couple of free massages and I never stopped going. Jared’s all the PR they need now, though.’

‘Why didn’t you ever tell me before?’ Jensen asks.

‘Would you have gone?’ Mike retorts and Jensen has the ‘yes’ on the tip of his tongue, but he knows just as well as Mike that it would be a lie, so he shakes his head and sits down behind his desk without looking him in the eye.

‘Let me guess. You’ve got work to do?’ Mike says, sarcasm clear in his voice. ‘Already reverting back to your old ways. If I was any less selfish, I’d let you go to one of my appointments. I’m not sure I can take watching you mope all over the place again.’

‘You offered to let me go once,’ Jensen shoots back. He knows Mike well enough to know he won’t give in, but he figures there’s no harm in trying. He might just get lucky. ‘What changed?’

‘I never thought you’d actually want to go,’ he says honestly as he gets up.

‘You know I’m never gonna believe another word you say now.’

‘You‘d be missing out. I made you go see Jared, didn’t I?’

‘And look where that got me,’ Jensen says, trying not to laugh and throws a stapler after him that misses narrowly and hits the door frame with a loud clang.




XVIII.

The day passes pretty much like every other day. Jensen’s got his usual problems to solve and clients to satisfy, but somehow, his patience seems to wear exceptionally thin. He puts it down to having stayed at the bar too long yesterday and having to catch up today, or at least, that’s what he snaps at anyone who dares to ask him.

Because no matter how you look at it, it sounds incredibly ridiculous to say he’s getting edgy because he knows the next possible time for him to have a massage this awesome is almost a year away. And the more the thought pops into his head, the angrier he gets (at himself, mostly, but he masks that brilliantly by getting angry with everyone else) and the more he can feel his headache start up again.

It’s not that he’s a total wimp - he can take a bit of a headache. Hell, he’s practically had one for the past three years. It’s just that he thought it was something he’d have to live with and that was okay. But now that he’s gone twenty-four hours without, he’d do anything to not get it back.

Maybe he should try to pay Sandover that ridiculous fee to bump him up.

It’s six o’clock before he realizes that he’s spent the day debating it with himself while staring at the files he has to take care of without actually taking care of them and all he wants to do is run headlong into a brick wall and hope it takes him out.

When his phone rings a couple minutes later - a number he doesn’t recognize - he thinks that he might not pick up for the first time in his career at Ferris Inc. Why should he? His official work hours are only till five thirty and he has no intention of taking on yet another customer and adding even more to his already frightening workload.

That’s mainly the reason Alona always redirects customers that call after closing to his office, because Jensen always picks up. Unlike Mike and Tom.

Well, not today, he tells himself, even in spite of the way his fingers itch and the skin at the back of his neck heats up for fear he might be blowing off another big fish like Vaughan. But then the phone stops ringing and he figures there’s no way back now. If they really want to talk to him, they’ll have to call back.

Jensen hasn’t even finished the thought when his phone lights up and goes off again - same number. He eyes it warily for another ten seconds, as if it might explode, then sighs and grabs the receiver anyway.

‘Ferris Incorporated, Jensen Ackles speaking,’ he bites into it, again more pissed off with himself than anyone else.

‘Jensen, hey!’ a voice says cheerily, either not noticing or not caring how crabby he sounds. ‘It’s Jared.’

Jensen holds his breath for a moment, thinking he can’t possibly be talking to who he thinks it is.

‘Padalecki,’ the voice says a moment later, hesitantly. ‘From Sandover Spa?’

At this, Jensen snaps out of it and clears his throat. ‘Yeah,’ he grinds out, voice more gravelly and raw than he’d expected it to be. ‘I know who you are. I just don’t - why are you-’

‘Yeah, man. I’m sorry to be bothering you this late, I don’t wanna hassle you or anything,’ Jared says and Jensen could swear that he sounds almost shy. ‘I called earlier, but I think the receptionist misunderstood and she redirected me to Mike’s office. He told me I had a better chance of getting hold of you after six. I hope he didn’t make you stay after hours waiting for my call. I wouldn’t put it past him.’

Jensen laughs, foul mood instantly forgotten, in spite of the panic that’s setting in in the back of his head. Jared doesn’t know, doesn’t know that Jensen is only halfway through a normal day’s work. He doesn’t know that he really has nothing better to do with his life and for a moment, it is vitally important that he never finds out. Jensen just really wants one person in his life that doesn’t judge him for it or that doesn’t mock him. Someone that can get to know him and doesn’t have any prejudice about how a person who works this much can’t possibly be or have any fun.

He’s been quiet while mulling this over and Jared’s apparently taken his silence as a confirmation of his theory on Mike.

‘Shit, that’s exactly what he did, didn’t he?’ he says, sounding really cut up about it. ‘I’m sorry, man. If I’d have known, I would have called earlier.’

And just like that, Jensen’s mind is made up. ‘No, no. One of my clients couldn’t make it here for a meeting till five, so I stayed a little longer. They left about ten minutes ago,’ he lies through his teeth. ‘You’re in luck. Five more minutes and I’d have been gone.’

‘Must be my lucky day,’ Jared agrees.

When he doesn’t say anything else, though, Jensen waits for a moment before asking, ‘So. What can I do for you?’

‘Right, no, I wanted to let you know that my last appointment fell through, today,’ he says. Jensen can hear him breathe through the receiver. ‘So I’ve got an opening in my schedule that needs filling.’

‘And you’re asking me?’ Jensen blurts without thinking. Jared appears to have that effect on him.

‘Only if you’ve got time and if you want to,’ Jared tells him.

‘What about your list? There’s eight people before me,’ he says, wondering if somehow, through some freak bout of coincidence, all of them did manage to kick the bucket.

‘I don’t know those eight people,’ Jared says simply. ‘If they have time to wait an entire year to get in with me, I doubt they need serious working on.’

‘What time?’

‘Nine. I’m in rero six,’ he answers happily. ‘So you’ll come?’

Of course he will. There’s no way he’s gonna pass up an opportunity like this one. So he sighs and says, ‘Those eight are gonna hate me for this.’

Jared laughs, it’s a full and throaty laugh, and Jensen can’t remember the last time he managed to elicit something like that from someone. ‘Yeah, they really are.’




XIX.

For some reason, Jensen’s actually nervous when he steps into Sandover. It’s not really bustling with people the way it was on the mornings he came in, but it’s not exactly calm either. There’s a girl behind the desk he hasn’t seen before and there are couple masseuses walking through the halls, a few of them with clients by their sides. He runs into Genevieve when he is looking for Jared’s rero and he’s slightly surprised when she smiles warmly at him.

‘Mister Ackles, hello!’

‘Hi,’ he says awkwardly, not slowing down entirely in hopes of shuffling past her without having to talk more.

‘I heard you got in with Jared,’ she says and Jensen wants to curse. ‘Well done.’

‘Yeah, he-‘ he starts and falls silent. He doesn’t know how to explain this. ‘It’s not that - you -‘

‘Oh no, don’t worry about it. I could get your muscles to loosen up, but I’d need double the time Jared does.’ She puts a hand on his arm and drops her voice slightly, as if she’ sharing a secret. ‘He’s a fantastic guy, you know.’

And that apparently concludes their conversation, because she smiles at him again and walks off, leaving Jensen a bit confused as he continues to make his way to Jared.

When he gets in, Jared isn’t there yet, so he decides to get ready and undressed. The sooner he can start, the sooner they can both go home. Not that he wants to, Jensen realizes to his surprise. Even if the guy’s half as good as he remembers, he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with Jared’s hands on him.

He frowns at the thought as he folds up his clothes and starts when he hears someone clear their throat behind him.

‘Jesus,’ he breathes as he spins around, hands automatically flying to protect his crotch.

‘Easy there, cowboy,’ Jared says. ‘I’m not gonna hurt you.’

‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ Jensen says by way of excuse as he picks up his pants from the floor. He hates how petulant he sounds. ‘Could’ve been anybody.’

‘Like another masseur that sees naked people on a daily basis?’ Jared says and crosses his arms in front of his chest. ‘You’re nothing special, you know.’

‘Not with my boxers on, no,’ Jensen says, trying to retain a shred of dignity.

Jared barks out a laugh, as if he didn’t expect Jensen’s answer in the least. ‘By all means, take ‘em off and I’ll be the judge of that.’

Jensen smirks at him. ‘I don’t put out until the third date.’

‘Damn.’ Jared laughs and Jensen joins him. It’s been ages since he’s felt this comfortable around anyone and it’s weird, considering he’s not really wearing any clothes and Jared is pretty much the biggest and strongest guy he’s ever seen. But somehow, Jared doesn’t make him feel as if he has to perform around him. It’s easy.

‘Alright, princess, hop on,’ Jared says and pats the massage table. ‘I was thinking we focus on your shoulders tonight, get them to loosen up so that headache won’t return and-’

‘How did you know?’ Jensen interrupts him. ‘About the headache?’

‘You mean besides your shoulders not being hunched and that frown that’s disappeared from your face?’ Jared asks, eyebrows raised. ‘I’m good at what I do. So shoulders this time, actual fun is for later.’

‘This isn’t the good part yet?’ Jensen asks. ‘Wait. Is there gonna be a later? I thought you were all booked up.’

Jared prods him in the side to get him to shut up, and considering it’s one of the few places a single touch can make him turn into goo, it’s pretty damn effective. ‘I can’t say for sure yet, I’ll have to ask reception, but I think this client dropped out. I’ll tell them to let you know if it’s the case.’

‘That’s great, man, thanks,’ Jensen tell him, eyes falling shut as Jared’s expert hands rub on the sore spots underneath his shoulder blades. ‘Only if you’ve got the time, though.’

‘Someone cancels, spot has to be filled,’ Jared says, ‘I got very little to say about that. Doesn’t mean I can’t pull some strings to get the right people in, though. Or I can try, at least.’

‘So you always work this late?’ Jensen asks.

‘It’s not work if you love what you do,’ Jared says simply. ‘It’s not like I’m cooped up in an office behind a computer. I meet people and get to talk about their lives. I get a change of scene constantly. That’s pretty awesome.’

‘Yeah,’ Jensen says quickly. ‘Offices aren’t that much fun.’

‘Shit,’ Jared says dejectedly. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you. To each their own, right? If you like that kind of thing, I’m sure it’s the best job ever.’

‘Yeah, no, you’re right,’ Jensen says and he hopes he doesn’t sound as if he’s totally lying his ass off the way he is. ‘There’s limits to how long and how hard you work, right? You gotta get the job done well, but you shouldn’t let it kill you, you know.’

‘Exactly,’ Jared says and massages the muscles that run along his spine. It feels so fantastic Jensen almost forgets he didn’t mean a word of what he’s just said.




XX.

After his hour with Jared’s up and he’s just making his way to his car, he gets a text from Chris.

Know you’re still at work. Quit it. Playing at 45th and Main. You in a better mood than earlier, come down.

On autopilot, he’s already got one of the standard replies ready (why type it yourself when your phone offers to say it much less awkwardly?), saying he can’t make it. But right before pressing send, he takes a moment to think about it and texts Danneel instead. He’s worked hard again today, he does deserve some fun. Doesn’t say anywhere that he has to slave away behind a computer all day, cooped up in an office. Maybe he needs a change of scene.

*

By the time he’s picked up Danneel and made it to the bar, it’s quarter to eleven and for a minute, Jensen thinks he really should make it to bed soon, or at least work on a couple more files. But then Danneel makes it back to him with a beer and whisky chaser and he forgets all about it. The place is already crowded and there’s a band playing the kind of mix between country and rock that he loves.

He spots Mike and Tom easily enough - as Danneel says, look for the girls with disgusted looks on their faces - but he keeps peering over the crowd for Chris and Steve for the next half hour before he realizes that they’re the ones performing.

It’s embarrassing as hell to realize that he hardly knows any of the songs they’re playing and by the time they’re done, Jensen has decided to buy these guys and himself so many drinks that none of them will remember it tomorrow.

So that’s why it’s about one thirty in the morning and he’s up on stage with Chris, playing Steve’s acoustic and belting out ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ as if his life’s depending on it and Chris keeps yelling, ‘This guy. I love this guy.’

He manages to drag Danneel up as well and they wind up doing the worst cover of ‘Leaving on a Jet Plane’ he’s possibly ever heard, but it’s the most fun he’s had in ages. He doesn’t want it to end, he realizes faintly, because when it does, it’ll be back to numbers and clients and graphs and sucking up and staring at the large breasts with tassels on them that currently serve as Murray’s desktop background while his designers are comparing him to tea-drinking nazi-robots or whatever. Not that he minds. The boobs. He likes boobs. A lot. He doesn’t drink tea. They’re pretty. Especially Danneel’s. Boobs.

Which he’s apparently said out loud, because she throws her head back as she laughs and says, ‘They like you too, honey. They think you’re cute when you’re drunk.’

Mike promptly takes Jensen’s beer out of his hands and says, ‘I think that’s your cue to stop drinking and start doing something more fun.’ He pokes Jensen’s belly as if it’s a secret sign and frowns. ‘What happened there, tubby? Seems like you could use the action.’

‘More fun?’ he asks, puzzled, while still making a pass for his beer, but then Danneel grabs his outstretched hand and smiles at him and he catches on. Only then his mind seems to process what Mike said next. ‘Tubby? I’m not fat. I’m manly.’

‘He didn’t say that and he’s too drunk to have meant it anyway,’ Danneel says as she drags him towards the doors. ‘Why don’t you show my boobs how manly you really are?’

*

He wakes up with a groan as he tries to roll over and is rolled straight back -rather roughly. He groans again.

‘Don’t for a minute think I feel sorry for you,’ a voice says. Jensen’s too busy trying to determine what’s up and what’s down that he doesn’t even think it strange there’s another person in bed with him. ‘You can’t hold your liquor, you don’t drink. I thought you’d’ve learned by now.’

When the world seems somewhat stable, Jensen dares to open one eye and squints at Danneel - a pissed Danneel, apparently. She’s got Jensen’s glasses on her nose and she’s reading one of those glossy girly magazines. ‘Oh,’ he says, voice raspy and rough. ‘Did we -‘

‘You tried valiantly, sweetie,’ she says without looking up. ‘Then you passed out. Then I fell asleep and woke up because you were gone and I looked all over the house for you and found you puking out your soul out back. Don’t go out on the terrace without shoes.’

‘Oh,’ Jensen says again and smacks his lips. He did think there was a foul taste in his mouth. ‘Sorry.’

Danneel sighs and puts aside the magazine. She peers over his glasses at him easily, they’re much too big for her, so they’re sliding down her nose. ‘So much for being manly, huh.’

‘I said that?’ he asks and buries his face in his pillow. He’s a feeling he already knows the answer.

‘That and many things more,’ Danneel answers and pats him on the back as if she’s trying to comfort him. ‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t all bad. And kind of refreshing, having you be that honest.’

Her hand hasn’t left his shoulder yet and right now, it’s slowly but surely making its way to lightly trail over his ribs and fuck it, she knows what that does to him. Jensen can take a hint when he gets one.

‘So you think it’s true that I’m manly.’ He rolls on to his side, giving her and her hand more room to move while his own fingers seek out the back of her left knee. ‘Intriguing. What else did I say?’

‘I think you think it’s true, babe,’ she says, but she laughs and crawls on top of him anyway. She runs a hand through her hair, sweeps it out of her face and leans down to kiss his chest. ‘You did say my breasts were pretty, though.’

‘I did?’ Jensen smiles as his lips find the sensitive spots on her neck. ‘I’m sure my judgment was clouded last night. Maybe I need another look.’

She bites down hard on his earlobe as payback for what he said -which Jensen actually sees more as a reward- but she complies anyway. She stills for a moment after, though, and asks, ‘You sure you got the time?’

It hadn’t even crossed Jensen’s mind to look at the clock, but now his heart stops as his eyes dart over to the alarm on his bedside table. It’s seven thirty. Normally, he’d have been at work already.

Then he looks back at Danneel and he can see in her face that she’s almost expecting him to throw her off and run for the bathroom. She’s gorgeous. Even with messy hair and smudged mascara under her eyes.

It’s a miracle she’s still here, he realizes, not just after he passed out, but after their entire relationship. After everything. He shouldn’t take that for granted, ever. He’s late anyway. And he does kind of owe her, after last night, doesn’t he? Least he can do is make it up to her now.

‘Yeah,’ he whispers and kisses the soft skin where her earlobe and jaw meet. ‘I got all the time you need.’




XXI.

He’s in his office by nine and spends the morning alternating between nursing a hangover that hasn’t completely subsided yet and sending a couple of smaller cases to his assistant to finish up. It’s far from ideal, but if he wants to make his deadlines, he has no choice. When it’s almost noon, he decides he can’t work like this and starts rummaging through his drawers for aspirin. It’s that exact moment that Mike chooses to burst in, fuming, and slaps a sheet of paper down on his desk that Jensen doesn’t even look at.

‘Morning,’ he says gruffly.

‘You billed me!’ Mike yells and points at the paper.

Jensen finally puts in the effort to read what apparently is a bill for a yearlong membership at a health club and gym couple of blocks down. A pretty pricey health club and gym. It’s in Jensen’s name, but the billing info is indeed Mike’s.

‘You billed me!’ he says again, as if Jensen didn’t hear him the first time.

‘That’s what you get for calling me fat,’ Jensen says with a smirk.

‘Neither of us even remembers it!’ Mike says, voice never lowering in volume. It’s true, he wouldn’t have known if Danneel hadn’t filled him in about everything that had happened last night. He doesn’t even remember getting the membership, but he does know that his computer was on when he got up and Danneel swears it wasn’t her who booted it. ‘I’m not paying. You can forget about it.’

‘Look at it this way,’ Jensen says and returns to the bottle of aspirin he just managed to locate, ‘it’s a whole new array of women for you to harass. That’s your new scene, right there.’

Mike takes a second to think about it, before he shakes his head. ‘I got a sweet ass and women aplenty, tubby. I don’t need it. I need my money back.’

‘Well, I figure, if you’re not getting me in with Jared, this is the least you can do, right?’ Jensen says and winces at the throbbing in his head. ‘And I’m not tubby, jackass.’

‘Right,’ Mike says, one eyebrow raised as he waves the paper at him. ‘That’s why you decided to get a health club card, is it?’

‘That you are paying for!’ Jensen says.

‘Not likely,’ Mike snorts.

‘You’re right. I guess I’ll just have to keep moping about being fat and tense,’ he says, trying to keep as straight a face as he possibly can. ‘You mind if I do that at your place tonight? My sister left the Sex and the City-movie last time she visited. I bet that’ll cheer me right up.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Mike says, eyes wide as saucers.

Just when he wants to make him squirm even more, his phone starts ringing and Mike runs off so instead, he yells after him. ‘Ben and Jerry’s good for you?’

He answers the phone with little more than a grunt which resounds loudly in his ear, making him think for a second that there’s something wrong with the receiver. But then Jensen thinks he can hear chewing.

‘Congrats. Eight people want to drink your blood,’ a girl’s voice suddenly bites out. ‘I’m one of them. Jared’ll call you.’

Before he can even say anything, she’s hung up on him and he spends another fifteen minutes just staring at the phone until he figures out that it was Katie and he’s just been put on Jared’s list.

He is now a regular with Jared Padalecki. How about that.

*

‘Hello?’

‘Am I tubby?’ Jensen asks immediately.

Weirdly, hearing that he may now get to enjoy Jared’s hands on him on a weekly basis has done very little to cheer him up. He’s actually quite worried about it. Mike’s remark has stayed with him all day and right now, all he can think about is that the last thing he wants to do is take his clothes off and lie on a table, half-naked and ready for judging.

‘Is this a dream?’ his mother asks in return. ‘Or just a really bizarre case of déjà-vu?’

‘What? Momma, it’s me,’ he says, frowning.

‘I know it is,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘It was you at four this morning, too, asking me the exact same question. Didn’t take the time to say hello then either.’

‘Oh,’ he says, embarrassed. Jesus, what else did he do last night? ‘What did you answer?’

‘I said that you weren’t in your twenties anymore and undoubtedly very drunk to be calling me at such an ungodly hour,’ she says, ‘but apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because you got mad and hung up on me.’

‘So that’s a yes,’ Jensen says and slumps his shoulders. He wants to ask his mother another question, but before he gets the chance to, he hears her mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, ‘spawned the devil’ and someone sighs loudly into the receiver.

‘Hello? Momma?’ he asks when no one speaks for a moment.

It’s not his mother that answers, though, it’s his father. He must’ve really pissed her off now, then, because she never hands the phone to his dad unless she really doesn’t want to talk to him anymore.

‘Son,’ he says, ‘your mother’s a bit busy right now.’

‘How bad is it?’ Jensen asks.

‘Well,’ his father says and Jensen could swear he’s actually amused by this whole thing. ‘She’s currently going through the liquor cabinet, if that’s any indication.’

‘So we’re looking at flowers?’ Jensen’s already looking up florists on the internet. ‘And a card?’

At that point, he thinks he can hear his mother say something about him being raised by wolves and his father adds with a chuckle, ‘Maybe some chocolates too.’

They’re quiet for another moment before he speaks again. ‘Son, you know, maybe I can help?’

‘I just wanted to know if mom thought I was tubby,’ Jensen tells him. He hates talking to his father about stuff like that. Alan Ackles is a very reasonable guy and he’s very understanding, he’s very laid-back and always knows how to put things in perspective. It makes Jensen feel ridiculous asking him for advice, like he’s four years old again and trying to fit in with the grown-ups. ‘But it doesn’t matter.’

‘You’re right,’ he says softly. ‘What we think doesn’t matter. If you feel tubby, then you should do something about it, son.’

‘I don’t know if I feel tubby, dad,’ he says. ‘I didn’t feel unhappy either, until everyone told me I did.’

‘Food for thought,’ Alan says and Jensen can tell from his tone that the conversation ends there.

‘Sure. Thanks, dad,’ he says. ‘Tell mom I’m sorry. Talk to you guys later.’

After he’s hung up, he takes out the bill that Mike dropped off at his desk earlier and sighs. What the hell. It’s paid for, anyway.




XXII.

'There he is, my favorite piece of meat!' Jared nearly yells, arms in the air as if he's just won a trophy, when Jensen walks into his rero.

'Aw,' Jensen says, laughing as he starts to loosen his tie. Good thing he went to the health club before he came here. 'I bet you say that to all the girls.'

Jared doesn't even miss a beat when he winks obscenely at Jensen and answers, 'Only the ones I think I got a shot with.'

'Come on, Jared,' he retorts, 'we can't all be as easy as you.'

'I resent that!' Jared's trying to look angry, but he's failing horribly. Nevertheless, he manages to continue with a straight face. 'My last date was completely enamored by my suave Guitar Hero and delivered pizza plans.'

Jensen snorts as he neatly folds up his shirt and trousers. 'Does she know what "enamored" means? Because I don't think she'd agree with you if she did.' He pretends to think for a moment and then adds, 'And if she does, introduce me to her so she and I can have a sordid affair.'

'I don't really think you'd hit it off,' Jared says with a smile, patting the massage table in front of him to get Jensen to lie down.

'Are you kidding me? A girl that likes Guitar Hero and pizza? I'm about ready to propose,' he says and only then realizes that he's probably talking about Jared's girlfriend and that he might just have crossed the line. He hopes Jared knows he's kidding.

'Yeah? You like the game?' Jared asks, as if that's by far the most intriguing and important thing Jensen's said. 'You want a full body?'

Jensen hums contentedly when Jared's massive hands touch down on his shoulders, feeling the tension seep out of them instantaneously - not in the least because Jared doesn't seem to take offense at his remarks. It takes him a few moments to remember that Jared asked him another question too. 'Yeah, I like it. I think I'm fairly good at it, too.'

In truth, Jensen hasn't given it more than four goes, maximum, at the Guitar Hero-night in the bar (totally wiping the floor with Chris and Steve, he might add), but considering that it combines the two things in his life he actually makes time for every once in a while (music and games), it's not too much of a stretch to believe that this game is his favorite thing in the entire world. Next to Jared's massages, probably.

Not that he'd tell Jared any of that.

'Really?' Jared asks, sounding excited. 'I'm like the king of Guitar Hero. Undefeated champion.'

'If you keep playing it with your dates, that's not surprising,' Jensen slurs, hardly managing to stay coherent when Jared's hands move towards his lower back and work out the kinks there.

'Shut up,' Jared says, and Jensen can hear he's smiling. He can feel a warmth spread through his body, starting from his stomach. Which is all to do with Jared taking a moment to massage his sides, using just enough pressure to not make it tickle, hitting all the right places. 'Don't underestimate girls. Sandy can play a mean "Eye of the Tiger".'

'She's on your waiting list,' he says without thinking. The moment the words are out of his mouth, he grinds his jaws together, though. No point in getting more feet in, today.

'Oh, I know. She's been giving me grief about that for ages,' he says. His hands still for a moment. 'She already told you, huh?'

Jared asks the question as if the fact that she did is supposed to mean something.

'Yeah, first time I met her,' Jensen tells him.

'Aw man, I'm gonna have to have a word with her about that, badmouthing me to clients,' Jared says, but he still sounds as if he's laughing. 'I've offered her maybe a million times to just do it at our place after hours, but she keeps refusing. I can't help it I've got very little to say about my schedule.'

'Why does she refuse?' he asks, craning his neck to get a look at Jared. He’s no idiot, he can put two and two together. Or, in this case, Jared and Sandy. And if Jared were his boyfriend, he'd make him do this every night.

God, Jensen really hopes he didn't say that out loud. He glances at Jared, but he just laughs, pushes him back down and says, 'I guess she likes to complain a lot.'

'Oh,' is all Jensen can think of saying.

'No, it's 'cause I work longer hours and more days. She says that when work is done, it's over and I shouldn't have to massage anyone anymore,' Jared explains. 'I told her that I don't mind. I like my job, you know? It's more of a hobby anyway.'

'Really?' Jensen asks. He can't imagine what that must be like.

'Yeah,' Jared says enthusiastically. 'I love what I do. I don't think I'd be able to keep doing it if I didn’t. I told Sandy. I feel bad about it, you know, but as an employee, she gets a really good discount. Just not any other privileges.'

'So no bumping her up?' Jensen asks curiously.

'No bumping her up,' Jared confirms.

‘You did it for me, though,’ Jensen says carefully.

‘Yeah, but I’m not trying to teach you a lesson, except maybe that relaxing your shoulders is much less painful than not relaxing them,’ Jared says and squeezes the muscles in his neck softly. 'I really don't get why Sandy doesn't let me do it back home. It wouldn't cost her a thing and she wouldn't have to wait. But she insists she wants the full experience, lavender lotion and all. I think she's doing it to spare me. Like I need it.'

'She must be a real good girlfriend,' Jensen tells Jared. After a second or two, he adds, rather reluctantly, ‘I do like her.’

'I'm sure you do,' Jared says hesitantly. Jensen could swear there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice when he speaks. 'She's an amazing girl.'

'She said you've known each other since high school,' he tells Jared and tries to sound innocent - as if he’s trying to make clear that he’d never make a move on her. 'Is that when you got together?'

Jared laughs again, amused by what Jensen's said, though he can't fathom why. 'Oh, we have, but she's not my girl.'

'Oh,' Jensen says again, apparently reduced to mostly one-syllable words today. He doesn't want to think why the knot in his stomach seems to be untying suddenly.

'We're real good friends, though,' Jared continues. 'We share an apartment, not too far from here. We can just walk in to work every day.'

‘You should tell Genevieve to do the same. Her clients wouldn’t have to wait when she’s stuck in traffic again,’ Jensen huffs.

Jared completely stops massaging him this time, takes his hands off Jensen’s back and says, ‘I could put you back on her list if you want, no problem.’

It’s a genuine offer, Jensen knows. Jared doesn’t sound any less cheerful or friendly. He just wants to help him out, even though getting back with Genevieve is the exact opposite of help to Jensen. It would be awkward and a hassle and really, far more trouble than it’s worth.

So his emphatic ‘no’ that resounds for a moment doesn’t come as a surprise to him, even if he didn't mean to say it that loudly. But when Jared doesn’t start again immediately, he pushes himself up on his elbows to make sure he can see he’s serious. Which apparently looks completely ridiculous.

Jared almost bursts out laughing when he sees Jensen’s face and holds up his hands. ‘Alright,’ he says and sticks his tongue between his teeth to keep from laughing still. ‘Just checking.’

‘If I wanted her back, I wouldn’t be here,’ he says as he lies back down. ‘She’s a good masseuse, but I came here because I was told I wouldn’t have to wait. I came in twice and spent almost as much time in the waiting room as I did on her table. That’s not what I’m looking for.’

‘Busy life, huh?’ Jared asks, his hands back to kneading his muscles.

Jensen stops as he’s about to answer. He wants to say, ‘What life?’, but then he remembers that Jared is asking because he really doesn’t know and instead he says, ‘You know. Just the usual stuff.’

‘Family, friends, work,’ Jared lists. Jensen has to assume he’s working alphabetically here and not in order of importance, because that’s not the order he would’ve gone for. Jared finishes - rather hesitantly - with another question, ‘Girlfriend?’

‘Work-out,’ Jensen corrects him.

‘I can tell,’ Jared says easily. ‘You’ve got an awesome body.’

Even though Jensen suspects Jared is lying through his teeth, he feels a warm glow spread out all over him and feels really proud of himself for going to the gym.

‘Really no girl?’ Jared asks again. ‘I expected you to be only an inch from picket fences and 2.4 kids.’

‘Why?’ Jensen asks. He can’t imagine anyone less suited to that kind of life. It almost sounds as an insult to him.

‘I don’t know, you look like you got it together, man,’ Jared says simply. 'Good looks, good job, good income, if you paying Sandover's ridiculous fees is anything to go by.'

‘No. I used to have a girlfriend, but it didn’t work out,’ he tells Jared before he even realizes he’s over-sharing.

‘Aw man, I’m sorry,’ Jared says and Jensen gets the feeling he really is. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘That’s alright, you didn’t break us up, Happened way before I cam here,’ he says with a shrug. ‘What about you? You with the girl that let you beat her at Guitar Hero?’

‘Dude. I can beat anyone on Guitar Hero, boy or girl.’

‘Put your money where your mouth is, is all I’m saying.’

Jared laughs loudly at his suggestion, as if he’s delighted by it. Jensen realizes, a bit too late, maybe, that Jared did a real good job of diverting the subject, but he supposes that's only fair. Not everyone eats their foot with disturbing regularity, as Jensen does. If Jared thinks it's none of his business, that's fine by him.

‘Fine, give me your number and we’ll arrange a death match,’ he says cheerfully. Jensen hesitates for a moment, though, wondering if this thing is getting too familiar, too fast and Jared adds, ‘It’ll be easier for future appointments too, you know, if I can just contact you directly. Then I won’t have to call your work, or make Katie call you again.’

‘That would be awesome, actually,’ Jensen says with a groan. ‘I know it’s not done to say this, but that girl scares me.’

‘Yeah, she’s a pistol, ain’t it?’ Jared laughs again.

‘You could’ve said she’s on your list too, by the way,’ Jensen grunts. ‘I think I’m on hers now.’

‘She’s not that bad once you get to know her,’ Jared says and moves further down to massage Jensen’s legs and feet. ‘Just stay away from windows for a while.’

‘Gjreh,’ Jensen mumbles, feeling as if he might melt into the table, and thinks he’ll agree with anything if Jared keeps this up.

*




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