Fic: "Typecast" - WB RPF/S - Jensen/Eliza/Chris Kane - NC17
*Note: All that brightly colored text links to visual aids. 'Cause I might be a wee bit OCD. :P
Title: Typecast
Author: femmenerd
Fandom: CW RPF/S
Pairings: Jensen Ackles/Eliza Dushku/Christian Kane. Allusions to Jared/Jensen--OK, an angsty Padackles-longing subplot. Mentions of Jensen/Joanna (the Playboy Playmate Jensen used to date). Oh, and Eliza/f implications.
Rating: NC17 for threesome sex, het, m/m, and the liberal consumption of beer, whisky and marijuana.
Summary: Jensen doesn’t even know what his “type” is anymore.
Disclaimer: This is real person FICTION, meaning that as far as I know, none of this ever happened, and these people belong to themselves. But they are very pretty, so you know, I smooshed them together in my head.
Author’s Note: Why did I write this? I really don’t know. Probably because the Pretty has permanently addled my brain. But it does feature a very nice!Jensen getting thoroughly debauched…in a friendly sort of way. This is the picture of Eliza that Chris is teasing her about, and this is Jensen and Chris and a whole lot of beer, because it seemed apropos. And though their stony expressions in that pic are also quite fitting, let’s add some other pictures where they look much hotter as well. Also, in the “research” that I did (looking them each up on IMDB), I discovered that Eliza is cooler than I’d known and has done stuff like conduct a political, social, and economic study of women in post-apartheid South Africa with her college professor mother. None of that is, however, particularly relevant to this porn. Here is a another picture of her where she is not inadvertantly flashing her cooch. Oh and Jared is really cute too--that’s why Jensen angsts over him.
Acknowledgements: To sweptawaybayou for the taste-testing and suggestions and alizarin_nyc for the cheerleading--wait, no, she “doesn’t read RPS” so really, she and her Kane-lust had nothing to do with this at all.
Word Count: About 4100.
“Hey, where the fuck are you going, man? I thought we were going to the bar.”
“Chill out, Jen. We are-just gotta make a pit stop. Pick up this girl I know.”
This girl I know. Jensen groaned internally. Evenings involving Christian Kane that started out with that phrase generally went one way, and it was not what he was after tonight. Tonight he needed beers and his boy. All to himself. It’d been a long season.
Chris was driving wildly, yanking on the steering wheel as the truck went careening along erratically through the darkened streets of LA.
“C’mon Chris, I thought it was just gonna be us guys tonight.” You promised, Jensen heard himself whine in his head.
“We got all week for that, boy. And besides, this one is different. You’ll like her. I swear.” Chris had one hand on the wheel now, and the other was fumbling with a cigarette. Jensen sighed and lit it for him. Getting into an accident now would suck. It would be much worse than having to share Chris with the attentions of some skank.
“Thanks, dude,” Chris said and grinned-flashing teeth that seemed a little too white for his whole urban cowboy look-took a puff, and pulled up sharply at the curb. In half a second flat the truck door was creaking open and this little firecracker of a dark-haired girl was leaping into the seat next to Jensen. She leaned over Jensen’s lap without a thought and gave Chris a sloppy kiss on the cheek, making a smacking sound that reverberated throughout the cab of the truck.
“Hey, you brought the eyecandy,” she said, snapping her gum and fluttering her eyelashes just a tad.
Chris snickered. He fucking snickered. The girl thrust out her paw to shake. “Nice to meet ya. Chris’s told me so much about you. I’m Eliza.” She smiled wide and so did Chris, and weren’t they just two peas in a pod? Then they were all off, Chris revving the truck’s engine in that annoying way that he had. Show off.
When they got to the bar, one of those divey places that’s just starting to get hip, Chris ordered a round of shots for all of them-Maker’s Mark because he said it would start them out right. Pretty soon Chris and Eliza were out on the dance floor, grinding and laughing to the beat of some groin-thumping, classic rock song that Chris probably knew all the words to and Jensen had never heard before. Eliza was an awesome dancer, Jensen noted. Able to get down and dirty but clearly well trained. It was like watching a ballerina work a strip club except that her clothes were all still on. Dancing was one of those things that always made Jensen feel like a total chump so he just leaned on the bar and watched them go, nursing a beer and waiting for that warm feeling to spread through his limbs. Not a single person had recognized him yet, or so it seemed. Lately coming back to LA was pretty overwhelming, ever since the show started to get big. Jared seemed to enjoy that shit, but for Jensen it was still pretty weird.
After two more songs, the others came back to the bar for more drinks, arms slung over one another’s shoulders and radiating kinetic energy. Jensen wondered about them. Chris had never really said much about her before, just a casual, “Hey Eliza, yeah, she’s cool,” here and again. And his friend was treating her kind of like a pal, a bro, except Jensen kinda got the vibe that he’d probably fucked her. But sex was less of a heavy thing for Chris than it was for Jensen.
“Don’t you dance, pretty boy?” Eliza asked before she guzzled down another shot of Maker.
“He’s shy,” Chris answered for him and laughed, wrapping his hands up in Eliza’s long, brown hair absently as he waited for the bartender to come back.
“Fuck off, man,” Jensen replied goodnaturedly.
“Really? You don’t seem shy. I’ve seen some of your press.”
Chris snorted. “What have you seen exactly? When my boy here tells them that he can’t talk to girls or when he blushes like a school girl when they talk about how pretty he is?”
“Yeah, but you’re always goofing off with that costar of yours. It’s pretty cute.” She turned and directed this comment to Jensen, looking up at him with friendly eyes. Wow, she was actually a really nice girl. From the episodes of Angel he’d watched for Chris, she’d always struck him as kinda scary. Of course that was acting, Jensen reminded himself. He certainly wasn’t as cocky as Dean Winchester, that was for sure.
“He’s quite lickable, that Jared Padalecki,” she continued and Jensen wanted to roll his eyes. But she was clearly trying to be cute. And it pretty much worked.
“You ever go there?”
Jensen coughed and almost spit up a mouthful of beer on his shirt. “He’s got a girlfriend, you know,” was all he said.
“Hey, that don’t always mean nothin’. I mean, some of the guys I know…” And what was that? Jensen could have sworn that Eliza’d just shot Chris a meaningful look. But she kept talking, “I wouldn’t blame you though, if you had. That boy is dorky cuuuuuuute, with those puppy dog eyes. Kinda overgrown though, like a weed.”
Jensen just laughed and shook his head. This girl was something else. But his thoughts quickly went in the direction of Jared, who was probably all tangled up in Sandy as they spoke. It was starting to feel kind of strange, when they were on break, not seeing Jared every waking minute of every fucking day…well, practically every minute. But it was cool, working with someone he got along with that well. He didn’t know how he’d deal with the grueling schedule otherwise. But Jared confused him-one minute he was horsing around and trashing on Jensen’s team and the next putting those enormous hands all over him. But then Jared flirted with everyone. It was just how he was built.
Chris was drumming his fingers against the wood counter of the bar. “What is UP with that bartender? We need more booze, stat. Especially with the direction you’re taking this conversation, girly.” He pulled a face at Eliza. “Jensen’s a good boy. Don’t you go corrupting him,” Chris teased, wagging a finger at her and clucking his tongue.
“Who me?” Eliza put her hand to her chest in mock outrage. “I’m a good girl. Teacher’s kid.”
“Yeah, well Jenson here, he was a golden boy. Student Council. Varsity All-Star. All that shit. And he writes his gramma letters every month to this day. Don’t you, Jen?”
Jensen punched Chris on the arm and gulped down one of the shots that had finally arrived. “Fuck off, man,” he sputtered, wincing and closing his eyes tight.
“All right there, slugger!” Chris clapped Jenson on the back affectionately. “Hey, look at you now. And to think a few years back you were a good, Christian boy.”
“Still am, you mother fucker,” Jensen coughed out.
“And what about you, Kane? What were you like in high school?” said Eliza, suddenly Jensen’s savior to the rescue.
Chris nodded his head and smirked. “I was getting smart girls like you high in the parking lot. Natch.” But Jensen knew that Chris wasn’t nearly as rock and roll back in the day as he liked to pretend.
“Smart girls like me didn’t get stoned with hoodlums like you on lunch break.” She paused for dramatic effect. “We did it after lit mag meetings with the drama geeks.”
Bah Dum Dum Ching! It wasn’t that often that Jensen got to witness a girl-a person-match Chris blow for blow. This was pretty fun. But he mostly just watched and listened, downing beer after beer as Eliza and Chris bonded over their time on Angel, gossiping about all the people they knew from that. It must have been nice being on a show back then that they’d actually be willing to watch. At some point they got out of their days-gone-by bubble long enough to rib Jensen about headlining his own series now-one that didn’t appear to be getting cancelled any time soon.
“Hey, I was right there with you pinch-hitting not too long ago.” But it was all in good fun, he knew, and Jensen was feeling warm and melty right about then. Like he could breathe properly. And he remembered that this was why he loved hanging out with Chris. Shit always seems so real with him-laid back.
And Eliza? Chris was right, she was chill. Unlike most of the other girls that Jensen met in this town. Wincing, Jensen found himself thinking about Joanna, which was something he’d been really trying to avoid doing. That all seemed like such a weird dream now. He’d thought he’d had shit sorted out then. Living a teenaged boy’s fantasy. Like things were going his way. And then they weren’t. But then there was the show. And this was now.
Luckily, a particularly juicy conversation topic shook him out of these pointless, mopey thoughts…
“Shut UP. Chris, you are so not going there. Oh my fucking god. That was an accident. I am not that kind of girl.”
“Hey girl, you’re the one who wasn’t wearing any panties. Whatever kind of girl that is-that’s what you are.” Chris cackled and took yet another shot.
“Hey, screw you, I didn’t want panty lines and I didn’t know that the dress was that see-through. You boys have it easy. ‘Wardrobe malfunctions’ are a little less likely when you’re wearing a suit.” She clapped her hand to her forehead in exaggerated chagrin. “But at least I’m pretty sure my mom hasn’t seen that. If she did, I’d just die.”
“Awwwww, isn’t that sweet,” Chris teased, poking her in the ribs. Turning to Jensen, he added, “’Liza here used to be a Mormon.”
She glared briefly, but then her face cracked into a dimplicious grin. There really didn’t seem to be too many places that these two weren’t willing to go with one another…in a conversation. For real, because the next thing that Chris said was, “Hey, ‘Liza, did I ever tell you that I jerked off to ‘Bring it On?’”
“You dog!” she exclaimed, and tilted her head back to howl with laughter. Jensen couldn’t help it, he started imagining her in a cheerleader uniform after that. Even though she was definitely not his type. Too crazy. Not blonde enough.
“Hey man, let’s get out of here,” Chris said, out of the blue, as he tottered off his bar stool.
“Woah, dude,” Jensen slurred back, “there is no way in hell I am letting you drive like this.” That’s right. Jensen is a good boy.
“Well, shit,” Chris muttered, “but this party was just gettin’ started.” He snapped his fingers. “I know! We’ll get a hotel room and then I can get the jock and the drama geek stoned!” Chris was smiling a melted, Joker-esque smile and he was Jensen’s best friend and Jen couldn’t say no to him right then. Besides, he was having a pretty good time.
Before he knew it, the three of them were teetering down the street, faces flushed from drinking and illuminated by flickering, neon signs. They stopped at the first motel they found, not too nice, not too shabby. While Chris was inside paying for the room, Jensen found himself suddenly stuck outside alone with Eliza, who was humming to herself and being generally mystifying. Jensen cracked a stupid joke. She laughed. He felt good. Drunk and outside of time and good.
Then, randomly, he said, “I’m really not all that good at talking to girls. That wasn’t a lie.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say. The gorgeous ones.” She touched his cheek with her hand. It was really soft.
“No, really,” Jensen continued.
“You’re talkin’ to me right now,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“I don’t know. You…you like hockey and stuff.” It was a pretty lame thing to say. He knew it, but she smiled, so it was all good.
“I’m not like Chris,” he said, thinking of all the times he’d watched Chris chat up girls, confusing them with his cheery, blustery crazy-talk and his down-home handsome and the tip of his cowboy hat. ‘Cause Chris really did sport cowboy hats in California-he was that balls out.
“You don’t have to be-face like that. Besides, can’t be too hard now, with chicks throwing their panties at you and shit.”
Jensen squirmed, squishing up his face and scrambling the high-cheekboned symmetry in question.
“Dude, I’m just sayin’, you were dating a Playmate. The time for the shy-boy routine is gone. You don’t need it.”
“Yeah, well…OK fine, so it has gotten easier.”
Just then, Chris came walking back with as much swagger as he could apparently muster, being three sheets to the wind and all, waving a room key in their faces.
“So Chris, I was just telling your friend here to cut the angst and just deal with his fate as a pin-up boy,” Eliza said, eyeing Jensen sideways and quirking her mouth.
Chris chortled. “Oh, he fucking loves hearing that, don’t you, Jen? But let’s face it, you are the fairest of the fair. I’d fuck you myself if you weren’t such a tight-ass.” Chris waggled his eyebrows. God, he had a mouth on him.
“Right-O,” Chris said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go, boys and girls. I’ve got plans for you two.”
“Oh shit,” Eliza said, smirking at Jensen and taking Chris by the elbow.
*****
As soon as they got to the room, Chris sat down in the first available ugly-plaid, overstuffed armchair and busied himself rolling a joint-a fucking enormous joint. The kind of joint that Jensen’d only become familiar with a few years into his LA life, because he wasn’t that kind of guy back in Texas. He wasn’t really sure what kind of guy he was now.
Eliza kept pacing and prattling on in that fast-talking, stream-of-consciousness way that Jensen’d already started to get used to, even after just a few hours of knowing her. Jensen was the happy, laconic kind of tanked so he just sat back in Chris’s chair’s fugly twin, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and watched the Kane and Dushku show.
“Hey man, my fans all think I’m a dyke…but then I am…if you give me enough tequila, or you know, a really hot girl.”
“You’re like fuckin’ Angelina Jolie…for geeks,” Chris said, licking the seam of the spliff and watching the motion of her curvy, little figure out of the corner of his eye, an expression of appreciative indulgence on his face.
“Yeah well, don’t plan on adopting any orphans any time soon, and where the fuck’s my Brad Pitt?”
“I’m wounded,” Chris goofed, lighting the joint and passing it up to her.
She took a deep drag and coughed out smoke, saying, “You-silly. But I have to say, that woman’s a fucking superhero, with all the ‘saving the world’ shit. And she sure can pick herself a man. Talking about ol’ Billy Bob now-he’s wicked hot for an old guy.”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah! Chris, you know I like the rockabilly guys.” She blew Chris a kiss and started catwalking his way. Oh, so apparently they were that way after all.
Jensen took a couple hits that went straight to his head after Eliza passed the joint off to him on her way over to Chris. Damn, but Chris always had the strongest weed.
Pretty soon Chris and Eliza were necking like teenagers, right in front of him-pouty mouths meeting, hands and hair flying. And it wasn’t the first time that Jensen’d watched Chris put the moves on a girl, but it’d never happened before when he was the only other person in the room. Um, huh. Jensen took another toke, because there didn’t really seem like anything else to do, and eyeing Chris’s technique was making him feel...odd.
Eliza was in Chris’s lap by then and he had his hand imprinted on her leather-covered ass. Chris looked up, grinning at Jensen but speaking to Eliza, “Too bad we don’t have any cards-we could play strip poker.”
“Yeah, or you could just strip,” she said, laughing in a syrupy, stoned kind of way as she exited Chris’s lap to get up and slip the joint from Jensen’s fingers.
Chris, because he’s a crazy mother fucker, stood up and did exactly what she said, almost immediately shucking his jeans and both shirts-T-shirt and checkered plaid-and began doing a ridiculous, hip-shaking dance, thrusting into the air in his grey boxer-briefs. Shit, Chris’s been working out, Jensen thought.
“Are we scaring you, pretty boy?” Eliza said, needling up to Jensen and putting her hands on his chest. “Do you want us stop?” He realized then that she was actually serious, despite the stony glaze to her eyes.
“Um.” He smiled awkwardly.
She smiled back and stood on tippy-toes then to whisper in his ear, “Have you kissed a boy before, Texas? Or was my radar totally off?”
Before Jensen could even contemplate answering her question, Chris was headed towards him, all tan skin, blowjob lips and woodsmoke smell, taking a deep drag off the roach of the joint and crawling across the shag carpet to exhale into Jensen’s mouth. Hell, this was like strip poker AND spin the bottle now only without the rules and with illegal substances in place of game accoutrement. And in the trailing, anticipatory seconds that Chris’s face loomed in towards his, Jensen understood exactly where the tittering groupies backstage at Kane shows were coming from.
The next thing he knew it was like Eliza’d put a spell on them because he was making out with Chris, hot and heavy-making out with Chris--with his hand gripping the back of Chris’s neck. This shit was fucked up. But it felt good. It felt right. That was probably the weed talking, but Jensen didn’t care. Because it was one thing to know objectively and aesthetically that your favorite drinking buddy was a devil-may-care, sexy motherfucker; it was an entirely different thing to taste it.
Chris’s chin was stubbly and rough. That was new and different and surprisingly hot.
Jared looked like shit when he hadn’t shaved.
Somewhere, outside of the haze produced by weed and whisky and his best friend’s tongue, Jensen heard a voice saying, “Damn, you boys are HOT. You sure you haven’t played this game before?”
And Chris whispered into Jensen’s parted lips, “Jensen, buddy, it’s good to have you back.”
“I love you, man,” Jensen heard himself saying back, voice soft and low, feeling horny, confused and free.
“I know you do,” Chris said, with accompanying chuckles that rumbled into Jensen’s skin, “and you really need to relax. This is all good, right?” Jensen nodded and took a deep breath as Chris pushed him back and settled in between his legs.
“Don’t mind me, boys,” Eliza said, lighting a cigarette and splaying herself out on one of the two queen beds.
Soon there were thick fingers in Jensen’s waistband, then his jeans landed around his ankles and his cock was in Chris’s mouth. Because Chris was giving him possibly the best head of his life-suction like a Hoover and twists of the tongue like you wouldn’t believe. Huh. The things you don’t know about your friends.
But then Chris’s good at all kinds of shit. And Jensen could just hear Chris boasting about it later. Man, I’ve got skills. You know it.
Just when Jensen was almost getting so close he could taste it, he looked up and saw Eliza sitting there on the bed, taking deep drags off her cigarette and smiling at him, pink lips curled back. Uhhhhhhh. Fuck.
After that he felt loopy and weightless, and began to believe that anything could happen in this room tonight and it would be all right.
Like when Chris got up off of his knees, kissed him on the lips and sauntered over to the bed and Eliza, it was all right. And when Chris slipped off her black, leather pants with practiced ease and probed his finger beneath her panties, licking it clean and mugging back over his shoulder at Jensen-that was OK too. Weird, but OK. And fucking hot.
He sat there mesmerized, watching them as Chris fucked her in slow strokes while she panted and laughed, locking her eyes with Jensen’s as she took each thrust and gave back. Jensen was getting hard again under her gaze, and really this should have been totally fucked up.
Eliza crooked a finger at him and Jensen got up, almost tripping over his pants before he eliminated them.
“Take off that shirt, boy. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”
Chris laughed and rolled off of her, wandering over to retrieve more condoms and some lube from his jacket pocket. Lube? You brought lube, Chris? OK, so now Jensen knew that he'd totally been set up.
“Do you wanna or shall I?” Chris said, waving the packets in his hand in the direction of Eliza’s upturned, naked rear end, and catching his tongue in between his teeth in a filthy smile.
“Oh shit, man. This is crazy,” Jensen said, shaking his head.
“This is fun is what it is. Trust me, you’ll like it.”
Chris took her ass. Of course Chris took her ass. But this way Jensen got to kiss her while she fucked down onto him, absorbing Chris’s thrusts and passing them along. And she was a sex-ass kisser, plenty of variation, hard and light. Lying on his back with his legs bent over the side of the bed with this witchy girl riding him, he could feel Chris in there too, and that made Jensen explode like a friggin' volcano when the time came again.
As he was drifting off to sleep with Eliza nestled into his right side and Chris half-snoring on his left, Jensen muttered, “fuck. I wonder what Jared would say about all of this.”
Chris lifted his head unexpectedly and gave Jensen a serious look-the first one he’d worn all night. “Jenny, bro, I told you you shouldna been messing with a straight boy like him.”
“I was messing with you just now.”
“Doesn’t count. I’m your best friend.”
Chris’s logic was astounding sometimes. But then, Chris’s world seemed a lot less complicated than Jensen’s most of the time.
In the morning, they all got breakfast-pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee with a side of Eliza and Chris banter. Jensen was mostly quiet throughout. Chris went to pay the bill and Jensen fidgeted with the ring on his right hand, looking down. Eliza broke the silence and said, “Hey man, it’s not like I do this kind of thing regularly either.”
He looked up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling and then he really looked at her in the light of day. She was still tiny. Compact. All dark hair and eyes and wiry muscle and throaty laugh and friendly sarcasm. Nothing like Joanna. (Nothing like Jared.)
Chris was on his way back over-they were going to the batting cages in an hour-and Eliza was catching a cab. “So, I guess I’ll see you around then?” Jensen said, still feeling a trifle awkward.
Eliza punched him on the shoulder and shot back, “It’s cool, yo, I know I’m not your type.”
Jensen sputtered.
Eliza just lifted up on her toes then and kissed him on the cheek, light and sweet. “You’re all right, Ackles. I mean you’re still the jock and the soap star and the choir boy and all of the above, but you’re also just a pretty cool guy.” She paused and smiled. “Chris has my number. We can totally hang out. All fucking aside.”
He erupted in giggles and so did she. Wow, life was really fucking weird sometimes. But definitely all right.
“Smell ya later, Dushku,” Chris interrupted, patting Jensen on the back. “I’m gonna kick this boy’s ass at the park.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jensen said, grinning.
“Oh just you watch, Jenny-boy. I’ve got skills, you know it.”
Well, that’s for damn sure, Jensen thought, looking back at Eliza where she was waving goodbye, and realizing that he had no fucking clue what his “type” was anymore.
~fin~
++++You know you’re going to hell with friends when your beta-notes read, “I think you should add more to the ‘Chris takes her ass’ paragraph.” Heh.
Title: Typecast
Author: femmenerd
Fandom: CW RPF/S
Pairings: Jensen Ackles/Eliza Dushku/Christian Kane. Allusions to Jared/Jensen--OK, an angsty Padackles-longing subplot. Mentions of Jensen/Joanna (the Playboy Playmate Jensen used to date). Oh, and Eliza/f implications.
Rating: NC17 for threesome sex, het, m/m, and the liberal consumption of beer, whisky and marijuana.
Summary: Jensen doesn’t even know what his “type” is anymore.
Disclaimer: This is real person FICTION, meaning that as far as I know, none of this ever happened, and these people belong to themselves. But they are very pretty, so you know, I smooshed them together in my head.
Author’s Note: Why did I write this? I really don’t know. Probably because the Pretty has permanently addled my brain. But it does feature a very nice!Jensen getting thoroughly debauched…in a friendly sort of way. This is the picture of Eliza that Chris is teasing her about, and this is Jensen and Chris and a whole lot of beer, because it seemed apropos. And though their stony expressions in that pic are also quite fitting, let’s add some other pictures where they look much hotter as well. Also, in the “research” that I did (looking them each up on IMDB), I discovered that Eliza is cooler than I’d known and has done stuff like conduct a political, social, and economic study of women in post-apartheid South Africa with her college professor mother. None of that is, however, particularly relevant to this porn. Here is a another picture of her where she is not inadvertantly flashing her cooch. Oh and Jared is really cute too--that’s why Jensen angsts over him.
Acknowledgements: To sweptawaybayou for the taste-testing and suggestions and alizarin_nyc for the cheerleading--wait, no, she “doesn’t read RPS” so really, she and her Kane-lust had nothing to do with this at all.
Word Count: About 4100.
“Hey, where the fuck are you going, man? I thought we were going to the bar.”
“Chill out, Jen. We are-just gotta make a pit stop. Pick up this girl I know.”
This girl I know. Jensen groaned internally. Evenings involving Christian Kane that started out with that phrase generally went one way, and it was not what he was after tonight. Tonight he needed beers and his boy. All to himself. It’d been a long season.
Chris was driving wildly, yanking on the steering wheel as the truck went careening along erratically through the darkened streets of LA.
“C’mon Chris, I thought it was just gonna be us guys tonight.” You promised, Jensen heard himself whine in his head.
“We got all week for that, boy. And besides, this one is different. You’ll like her. I swear.” Chris had one hand on the wheel now, and the other was fumbling with a cigarette. Jensen sighed and lit it for him. Getting into an accident now would suck. It would be much worse than having to share Chris with the attentions of some skank.
“Thanks, dude,” Chris said and grinned-flashing teeth that seemed a little too white for his whole urban cowboy look-took a puff, and pulled up sharply at the curb. In half a second flat the truck door was creaking open and this little firecracker of a dark-haired girl was leaping into the seat next to Jensen. She leaned over Jensen’s lap without a thought and gave Chris a sloppy kiss on the cheek, making a smacking sound that reverberated throughout the cab of the truck.
“Hey, you brought the eyecandy,” she said, snapping her gum and fluttering her eyelashes just a tad.
Chris snickered. He fucking snickered. The girl thrust out her paw to shake. “Nice to meet ya. Chris’s told me so much about you. I’m Eliza.” She smiled wide and so did Chris, and weren’t they just two peas in a pod? Then they were all off, Chris revving the truck’s engine in that annoying way that he had. Show off.
When they got to the bar, one of those divey places that’s just starting to get hip, Chris ordered a round of shots for all of them-Maker’s Mark because he said it would start them out right. Pretty soon Chris and Eliza were out on the dance floor, grinding and laughing to the beat of some groin-thumping, classic rock song that Chris probably knew all the words to and Jensen had never heard before. Eliza was an awesome dancer, Jensen noted. Able to get down and dirty but clearly well trained. It was like watching a ballerina work a strip club except that her clothes were all still on. Dancing was one of those things that always made Jensen feel like a total chump so he just leaned on the bar and watched them go, nursing a beer and waiting for that warm feeling to spread through his limbs. Not a single person had recognized him yet, or so it seemed. Lately coming back to LA was pretty overwhelming, ever since the show started to get big. Jared seemed to enjoy that shit, but for Jensen it was still pretty weird.
After two more songs, the others came back to the bar for more drinks, arms slung over one another’s shoulders and radiating kinetic energy. Jensen wondered about them. Chris had never really said much about her before, just a casual, “Hey Eliza, yeah, she’s cool,” here and again. And his friend was treating her kind of like a pal, a bro, except Jensen kinda got the vibe that he’d probably fucked her. But sex was less of a heavy thing for Chris than it was for Jensen.
“Don’t you dance, pretty boy?” Eliza asked before she guzzled down another shot of Maker.
“He’s shy,” Chris answered for him and laughed, wrapping his hands up in Eliza’s long, brown hair absently as he waited for the bartender to come back.
“Fuck off, man,” Jensen replied goodnaturedly.
“Really? You don’t seem shy. I’ve seen some of your press.”
Chris snorted. “What have you seen exactly? When my boy here tells them that he can’t talk to girls or when he blushes like a school girl when they talk about how pretty he is?”
“Yeah, but you’re always goofing off with that costar of yours. It’s pretty cute.” She turned and directed this comment to Jensen, looking up at him with friendly eyes. Wow, she was actually a really nice girl. From the episodes of Angel he’d watched for Chris, she’d always struck him as kinda scary. Of course that was acting, Jensen reminded himself. He certainly wasn’t as cocky as Dean Winchester, that was for sure.
“He’s quite lickable, that Jared Padalecki,” she continued and Jensen wanted to roll his eyes. But she was clearly trying to be cute. And it pretty much worked.
“You ever go there?”
Jensen coughed and almost spit up a mouthful of beer on his shirt. “He’s got a girlfriend, you know,” was all he said.
“Hey, that don’t always mean nothin’. I mean, some of the guys I know…” And what was that? Jensen could have sworn that Eliza’d just shot Chris a meaningful look. But she kept talking, “I wouldn’t blame you though, if you had. That boy is dorky cuuuuuuute, with those puppy dog eyes. Kinda overgrown though, like a weed.”
Jensen just laughed and shook his head. This girl was something else. But his thoughts quickly went in the direction of Jared, who was probably all tangled up in Sandy as they spoke. It was starting to feel kind of strange, when they were on break, not seeing Jared every waking minute of every fucking day…well, practically every minute. But it was cool, working with someone he got along with that well. He didn’t know how he’d deal with the grueling schedule otherwise. But Jared confused him-one minute he was horsing around and trashing on Jensen’s team and the next putting those enormous hands all over him. But then Jared flirted with everyone. It was just how he was built.
Chris was drumming his fingers against the wood counter of the bar. “What is UP with that bartender? We need more booze, stat. Especially with the direction you’re taking this conversation, girly.” He pulled a face at Eliza. “Jensen’s a good boy. Don’t you go corrupting him,” Chris teased, wagging a finger at her and clucking his tongue.
“Who me?” Eliza put her hand to her chest in mock outrage. “I’m a good girl. Teacher’s kid.”
“Yeah, well Jenson here, he was a golden boy. Student Council. Varsity All-Star. All that shit. And he writes his gramma letters every month to this day. Don’t you, Jen?”
Jensen punched Chris on the arm and gulped down one of the shots that had finally arrived. “Fuck off, man,” he sputtered, wincing and closing his eyes tight.
“All right there, slugger!” Chris clapped Jenson on the back affectionately. “Hey, look at you now. And to think a few years back you were a good, Christian boy.”
“Still am, you mother fucker,” Jensen coughed out.
“And what about you, Kane? What were you like in high school?” said Eliza, suddenly Jensen’s savior to the rescue.
Chris nodded his head and smirked. “I was getting smart girls like you high in the parking lot. Natch.” But Jensen knew that Chris wasn’t nearly as rock and roll back in the day as he liked to pretend.
“Smart girls like me didn’t get stoned with hoodlums like you on lunch break.” She paused for dramatic effect. “We did it after lit mag meetings with the drama geeks.”
Bah Dum Dum Ching! It wasn’t that often that Jensen got to witness a girl-a person-match Chris blow for blow. This was pretty fun. But he mostly just watched and listened, downing beer after beer as Eliza and Chris bonded over their time on Angel, gossiping about all the people they knew from that. It must have been nice being on a show back then that they’d actually be willing to watch. At some point they got out of their days-gone-by bubble long enough to rib Jensen about headlining his own series now-one that didn’t appear to be getting cancelled any time soon.
“Hey, I was right there with you pinch-hitting not too long ago.” But it was all in good fun, he knew, and Jensen was feeling warm and melty right about then. Like he could breathe properly. And he remembered that this was why he loved hanging out with Chris. Shit always seems so real with him-laid back.
And Eliza? Chris was right, she was chill. Unlike most of the other girls that Jensen met in this town. Wincing, Jensen found himself thinking about Joanna, which was something he’d been really trying to avoid doing. That all seemed like such a weird dream now. He’d thought he’d had shit sorted out then. Living a teenaged boy’s fantasy. Like things were going his way. And then they weren’t. But then there was the show. And this was now.
Luckily, a particularly juicy conversation topic shook him out of these pointless, mopey thoughts…
“Shut UP. Chris, you are so not going there. Oh my fucking god. That was an accident. I am not that kind of girl.”
“Hey girl, you’re the one who wasn’t wearing any panties. Whatever kind of girl that is-that’s what you are.” Chris cackled and took yet another shot.
“Hey, screw you, I didn’t want panty lines and I didn’t know that the dress was that see-through. You boys have it easy. ‘Wardrobe malfunctions’ are a little less likely when you’re wearing a suit.” She clapped her hand to her forehead in exaggerated chagrin. “But at least I’m pretty sure my mom hasn’t seen that. If she did, I’d just die.”
“Awwwww, isn’t that sweet,” Chris teased, poking her in the ribs. Turning to Jensen, he added, “’Liza here used to be a Mormon.”
She glared briefly, but then her face cracked into a dimplicious grin. There really didn’t seem to be too many places that these two weren’t willing to go with one another…in a conversation. For real, because the next thing that Chris said was, “Hey, ‘Liza, did I ever tell you that I jerked off to ‘Bring it On?’”
“You dog!” she exclaimed, and tilted her head back to howl with laughter. Jensen couldn’t help it, he started imagining her in a cheerleader uniform after that. Even though she was definitely not his type. Too crazy. Not blonde enough.
“Hey man, let’s get out of here,” Chris said, out of the blue, as he tottered off his bar stool.
“Woah, dude,” Jensen slurred back, “there is no way in hell I am letting you drive like this.” That’s right. Jensen is a good boy.
“Well, shit,” Chris muttered, “but this party was just gettin’ started.” He snapped his fingers. “I know! We’ll get a hotel room and then I can get the jock and the drama geek stoned!” Chris was smiling a melted, Joker-esque smile and he was Jensen’s best friend and Jen couldn’t say no to him right then. Besides, he was having a pretty good time.
Before he knew it, the three of them were teetering down the street, faces flushed from drinking and illuminated by flickering, neon signs. They stopped at the first motel they found, not too nice, not too shabby. While Chris was inside paying for the room, Jensen found himself suddenly stuck outside alone with Eliza, who was humming to herself and being generally mystifying. Jensen cracked a stupid joke. She laughed. He felt good. Drunk and outside of time and good.
Then, randomly, he said, “I’m really not all that good at talking to girls. That wasn’t a lie.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say. The gorgeous ones.” She touched his cheek with her hand. It was really soft.
“No, really,” Jensen continued.
“You’re talkin’ to me right now,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“I don’t know. You…you like hockey and stuff.” It was a pretty lame thing to say. He knew it, but she smiled, so it was all good.
“I’m not like Chris,” he said, thinking of all the times he’d watched Chris chat up girls, confusing them with his cheery, blustery crazy-talk and his down-home handsome and the tip of his cowboy hat. ‘Cause Chris really did sport cowboy hats in California-he was that balls out.
“You don’t have to be-face like that. Besides, can’t be too hard now, with chicks throwing their panties at you and shit.”
Jensen squirmed, squishing up his face and scrambling the high-cheekboned symmetry in question.
“Dude, I’m just sayin’, you were dating a Playmate. The time for the shy-boy routine is gone. You don’t need it.”
“Yeah, well…OK fine, so it has gotten easier.”
Just then, Chris came walking back with as much swagger as he could apparently muster, being three sheets to the wind and all, waving a room key in their faces.
“So Chris, I was just telling your friend here to cut the angst and just deal with his fate as a pin-up boy,” Eliza said, eyeing Jensen sideways and quirking her mouth.
Chris chortled. “Oh, he fucking loves hearing that, don’t you, Jen? But let’s face it, you are the fairest of the fair. I’d fuck you myself if you weren’t such a tight-ass.” Chris waggled his eyebrows. God, he had a mouth on him.
“Right-O,” Chris said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go, boys and girls. I’ve got plans for you two.”
“Oh shit,” Eliza said, smirking at Jensen and taking Chris by the elbow.
*****
As soon as they got to the room, Chris sat down in the first available ugly-plaid, overstuffed armchair and busied himself rolling a joint-a fucking enormous joint. The kind of joint that Jensen’d only become familiar with a few years into his LA life, because he wasn’t that kind of guy back in Texas. He wasn’t really sure what kind of guy he was now.
Eliza kept pacing and prattling on in that fast-talking, stream-of-consciousness way that Jensen’d already started to get used to, even after just a few hours of knowing her. Jensen was the happy, laconic kind of tanked so he just sat back in Chris’s chair’s fugly twin, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and watched the Kane and Dushku show.
“Hey man, my fans all think I’m a dyke…but then I am…if you give me enough tequila, or you know, a really hot girl.”
“You’re like fuckin’ Angelina Jolie…for geeks,” Chris said, licking the seam of the spliff and watching the motion of her curvy, little figure out of the corner of his eye, an expression of appreciative indulgence on his face.
“Yeah well, don’t plan on adopting any orphans any time soon, and where the fuck’s my Brad Pitt?”
“I’m wounded,” Chris goofed, lighting the joint and passing it up to her.
She took a deep drag and coughed out smoke, saying, “You-silly. But I have to say, that woman’s a fucking superhero, with all the ‘saving the world’ shit. And she sure can pick herself a man. Talking about ol’ Billy Bob now-he’s wicked hot for an old guy.”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah! Chris, you know I like the rockabilly guys.” She blew Chris a kiss and started catwalking his way. Oh, so apparently they were that way after all.
Jensen took a couple hits that went straight to his head after Eliza passed the joint off to him on her way over to Chris. Damn, but Chris always had the strongest weed.
Pretty soon Chris and Eliza were necking like teenagers, right in front of him-pouty mouths meeting, hands and hair flying. And it wasn’t the first time that Jensen’d watched Chris put the moves on a girl, but it’d never happened before when he was the only other person in the room. Um, huh. Jensen took another toke, because there didn’t really seem like anything else to do, and eyeing Chris’s technique was making him feel...odd.
Eliza was in Chris’s lap by then and he had his hand imprinted on her leather-covered ass. Chris looked up, grinning at Jensen but speaking to Eliza, “Too bad we don’t have any cards-we could play strip poker.”
“Yeah, or you could just strip,” she said, laughing in a syrupy, stoned kind of way as she exited Chris’s lap to get up and slip the joint from Jensen’s fingers.
Chris, because he’s a crazy mother fucker, stood up and did exactly what she said, almost immediately shucking his jeans and both shirts-T-shirt and checkered plaid-and began doing a ridiculous, hip-shaking dance, thrusting into the air in his grey boxer-briefs. Shit, Chris’s been working out, Jensen thought.
“Are we scaring you, pretty boy?” Eliza said, needling up to Jensen and putting her hands on his chest. “Do you want us stop?” He realized then that she was actually serious, despite the stony glaze to her eyes.
“Um.” He smiled awkwardly.
She smiled back and stood on tippy-toes then to whisper in his ear, “Have you kissed a boy before, Texas? Or was my radar totally off?”
Before Jensen could even contemplate answering her question, Chris was headed towards him, all tan skin, blowjob lips and woodsmoke smell, taking a deep drag off the roach of the joint and crawling across the shag carpet to exhale into Jensen’s mouth. Hell, this was like strip poker AND spin the bottle now only without the rules and with illegal substances in place of game accoutrement. And in the trailing, anticipatory seconds that Chris’s face loomed in towards his, Jensen understood exactly where the tittering groupies backstage at Kane shows were coming from.
The next thing he knew it was like Eliza’d put a spell on them because he was making out with Chris, hot and heavy-making out with Chris--with his hand gripping the back of Chris’s neck. This shit was fucked up. But it felt good. It felt right. That was probably the weed talking, but Jensen didn’t care. Because it was one thing to know objectively and aesthetically that your favorite drinking buddy was a devil-may-care, sexy motherfucker; it was an entirely different thing to taste it.
Chris’s chin was stubbly and rough. That was new and different and surprisingly hot.
Jared looked like shit when he hadn’t shaved.
Somewhere, outside of the haze produced by weed and whisky and his best friend’s tongue, Jensen heard a voice saying, “Damn, you boys are HOT. You sure you haven’t played this game before?”
And Chris whispered into Jensen’s parted lips, “Jensen, buddy, it’s good to have you back.”
“I love you, man,” Jensen heard himself saying back, voice soft and low, feeling horny, confused and free.
“I know you do,” Chris said, with accompanying chuckles that rumbled into Jensen’s skin, “and you really need to relax. This is all good, right?” Jensen nodded and took a deep breath as Chris pushed him back and settled in between his legs.
“Don’t mind me, boys,” Eliza said, lighting a cigarette and splaying herself out on one of the two queen beds.
Soon there were thick fingers in Jensen’s waistband, then his jeans landed around his ankles and his cock was in Chris’s mouth. Because Chris was giving him possibly the best head of his life-suction like a Hoover and twists of the tongue like you wouldn’t believe. Huh. The things you don’t know about your friends.
But then Chris’s good at all kinds of shit. And Jensen could just hear Chris boasting about it later. Man, I’ve got skills. You know it.
Just when Jensen was almost getting so close he could taste it, he looked up and saw Eliza sitting there on the bed, taking deep drags off her cigarette and smiling at him, pink lips curled back. Uhhhhhhh. Fuck.
After that he felt loopy and weightless, and began to believe that anything could happen in this room tonight and it would be all right.
Like when Chris got up off of his knees, kissed him on the lips and sauntered over to the bed and Eliza, it was all right. And when Chris slipped off her black, leather pants with practiced ease and probed his finger beneath her panties, licking it clean and mugging back over his shoulder at Jensen-that was OK too. Weird, but OK. And fucking hot.
He sat there mesmerized, watching them as Chris fucked her in slow strokes while she panted and laughed, locking her eyes with Jensen’s as she took each thrust and gave back. Jensen was getting hard again under her gaze, and really this should have been totally fucked up.
Eliza crooked a finger at him and Jensen got up, almost tripping over his pants before he eliminated them.
“Take off that shirt, boy. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”
Chris laughed and rolled off of her, wandering over to retrieve more condoms and some lube from his jacket pocket. Lube? You brought lube, Chris? OK, so now Jensen knew that he'd totally been set up.
“Do you wanna or shall I?” Chris said, waving the packets in his hand in the direction of Eliza’s upturned, naked rear end, and catching his tongue in between his teeth in a filthy smile.
“Oh shit, man. This is crazy,” Jensen said, shaking his head.
“This is fun is what it is. Trust me, you’ll like it.”
Chris took her ass. Of course Chris took her ass. But this way Jensen got to kiss her while she fucked down onto him, absorbing Chris’s thrusts and passing them along. And she was a sex-ass kisser, plenty of variation, hard and light. Lying on his back with his legs bent over the side of the bed with this witchy girl riding him, he could feel Chris in there too, and that made Jensen explode like a friggin' volcano when the time came again.
As he was drifting off to sleep with Eliza nestled into his right side and Chris half-snoring on his left, Jensen muttered, “fuck. I wonder what Jared would say about all of this.”
Chris lifted his head unexpectedly and gave Jensen a serious look-the first one he’d worn all night. “Jenny, bro, I told you you shouldna been messing with a straight boy like him.”
“I was messing with you just now.”
“Doesn’t count. I’m your best friend.”
Chris’s logic was astounding sometimes. But then, Chris’s world seemed a lot less complicated than Jensen’s most of the time.
In the morning, they all got breakfast-pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee with a side of Eliza and Chris banter. Jensen was mostly quiet throughout. Chris went to pay the bill and Jensen fidgeted with the ring on his right hand, looking down. Eliza broke the silence and said, “Hey man, it’s not like I do this kind of thing regularly either.”
He looked up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling and then he really looked at her in the light of day. She was still tiny. Compact. All dark hair and eyes and wiry muscle and throaty laugh and friendly sarcasm. Nothing like Joanna. (Nothing like Jared.)
Chris was on his way back over-they were going to the batting cages in an hour-and Eliza was catching a cab. “So, I guess I’ll see you around then?” Jensen said, still feeling a trifle awkward.
Eliza punched him on the shoulder and shot back, “It’s cool, yo, I know I’m not your type.”
Jensen sputtered.
Eliza just lifted up on her toes then and kissed him on the cheek, light and sweet. “You’re all right, Ackles. I mean you’re still the jock and the soap star and the choir boy and all of the above, but you’re also just a pretty cool guy.” She paused and smiled. “Chris has my number. We can totally hang out. All fucking aside.”
He erupted in giggles and so did she. Wow, life was really fucking weird sometimes. But definitely all right.
“Smell ya later, Dushku,” Chris interrupted, patting Jensen on the back. “I’m gonna kick this boy’s ass at the park.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jensen said, grinning.
“Oh just you watch, Jenny-boy. I’ve got skills, you know it.”
Well, that’s for damn sure, Jensen thought, looking back at Eliza where she was waving goodbye, and realizing that he had no fucking clue what his “type” was anymore.
~fin~
++++You know you’re going to hell with friends when your beta-notes read, “I think you should add more to the ‘Chris takes her ass’ paragraph.” Heh.