Bulletproof: part five
part four
Jensen doesn't go with Jared to the audition. He wishes him luck and makes sure he's had a proper breakfast and he tells him how much he rocks and that if this doesn't work out then something better is bound to come along. Then he demands that Jared call him to let him know how it goes and waves him off.
Jared sits in the waiting room with about twenty other guys, all of whom seem meaner, broodier and more badass than him. None of them are taller than him though and Jared pins his hopes on tallness being one of the principal characteristics the producers see for Azrael. He flips through a magazine, foot jiggling nervously, as one by one the guys in front of him are called in.
And then, when it's his turn, the unexpected happens: Jared does rock. He connects straight away with one of the producers, a woman called Liz, and one of the other producers seems to like what he sees very much indeed, if the blatant staring is anything to go by. Jared doesn't flub a single line, doesn't fall into any of his usual anxiety-tics and the longer the audition goes on, the more confident he gets and the better he is.
"That was very impressive, Jared," says the male producer who still hasn't stopped staring, leaning back in his chair when Jared finishes. He doesn't even have to check his notes for Jared's name.
"Yeah, you really brought something new to the role," says Liz. "Don't think we've seen anyone play it like that yet. And it works."
Jared leaves the room feeling wickedly magnificent. He makes it out of the building and props himself up against the wall, basking in the sunlight and watching the water in the fountain sparkle like broken glass jumping in the air. His cellphone has barely started the call to Jensen when it's picked up.
"You rocked, am I right?" says Jensen.
"Man, I was… I was on fire! I don't even care if I don't get it because I know I was awesome. And if they don't want me after that, that's okay because I can't help being so goddamn awesome and that's the only way I know how to be!"
"And did they compliment you on your modesty too?" says Jensen but Jared can hear the laughter in his voice. "Come on, we'll go out for a beer, toast your awesomeness!"
"Hell, yeah!" says Jared. He pushes up off the wall, strolling aimlessly around the plaza at the front of the building. "Seriously, Jen, thank you. I never would'a-"
He breaks off as he looks up and sees someone approaching. It's Quentin, with a couple of other suits. They meet each other's eyes for just the briefest second and then Jared thinks of how Jensen is on those rare occasions he bumps into a client and he lets his gaze drift over Quentin's face and away. Quentin disappears into the building while Jensen's still going Hey, Jay, you still there? Jay?
The warm bubble of satisfaction that had been in Jared's chest deflates a little. He hesitates and then brings the phone back up to his ear.
"Hey, sorry, got… uh… yeah. But yeah, celebratory beer sounds like an awesome idea. About seven, at the bar we were at last time?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Jared?" Quentin's come back, on his own this time. He waits for Jared to end the call with Jensen - and Jared's careful not to use Jensen's name - and then he offers a smile when it's just him and Jared. He glances around and Jared wonders if he's looking for Jensen. Then he says, "You here on business?"
Jared debates it for a second then decides that if Quentin's all that interested he's going to be able to find it out for himself anyway. So he shrugs and says, "Audition. For Seraphim."
Quentin pauses and then a smile tugs at his lips. "The script was for you."
Instantly, Jared decides he should have gone for lying after all. Who the hell ever said honesty was the best policy? He passes his cellphone from palm to palm and cocks his head at Quentin.
"Guess it doesn't matter now, right?"
Quentin's face hardens, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not connected with the Seraphim project. I can't swing it your way. So I hope your audition went well because that's what's going to matter."
"No," says Jared. "I… uh." He frowns, confused. "I thought you'd tell them not to use me. I know how squirrelly some people are about it getting out that-" He breaks off as Quentin tugs at his tie. The stoniness is gone from Quentin's expression though, and he shakes his head.
"Like I said, I'm not connected to the project, I'm not making the decisions. But I certainly wouldn't try to swing it against you simply because of… uh… who you work with." He tries a smile, a little surer than last time. "I like to think I play fair."
"Oh," says Jared. "Oh well, yeah."
"Good luck with it," says Quentin, as he heads back into the building, leaving Jared feeling wrong-footed and pleasantly surprised.
:::
While he tells Jensen every other detail of the audition, Jared doesn't mention running into Quentin. Once again, he's not sure if this is a mistake or not because there's every chance Quentin will mention it to Jensen when he next has him for an appointment. But he still feels awkward about it all somehow and doesn't want to put any of it on Jensen. It's too good an evening for any weirdness.
It's not a date, it's just two guys having a beer together but it's the first time they've done anything like this and Jared likes not having to share Jensen with anyone, likes not having the knowledge that there's someone just an hour or so down the line, waiting to have sex with him, likes that this is clearly and definitely non-work-related.
The bar's busier tonight than it was the other night but they've managed to snag a table in the corner and Jensen's on his second beer, looking amused and confused as Jared, who's on his fourth, earnestly tries to explain the role of cows in global warming and why it worries him so. Jensen's leaning in to hear him and Jared gets lost sometimes in what he's saying because he keeps trying to count Jensen's freckles and getting distracted. It's too warm to think straight anyway, and he can smell Jensen's soap on his skin, can see the faintest sheen of sweat gathering in his collarbone. His eyes look wild and electric in the dull glow of the artificial lights.
In the middle of making an important point, Jared slaps his hand down on the table, misses and almost falls into Jensen's lap. Jensen helps settle him back upright and his fingers linger a moment on the curve of defined muscle at Jared's shoulder.
"I'm not drunk," says Jared immediately. "And I know it's only drunk people who feel the need to say that but I'm really not."
Jensen nods and opens his mouth to say something, then stops, tilts his head to look up at the guy who's come over to their table. He's in his late twenties, early thirties, well-dressed in designer ripped jeans and a tight, pale blue t-shirt. His toothpaste-commercial teeth are on display in a friendly grin. There's a slim silver bracelet around his wrist that glints in the light as he gestures at the two of them.
"I'm sorry, this is probably totally outrageous but I figure, fortune favors the bold, right?" He takes a breath, smile still in place, then says, "Are you two together? 'Cause, if you are, wow, cute couple! If not," He raises an eyebrow at Jensen, showing even more teeth, and says, "could I get you a drink some time?"
"Oh you can fuck right off," says Jared. Both Jensen and the guy turn to look at him in shock, but Jared finds himself undaunted. It's either letting his mouth run on or doing something absurdly caveman like growling or dragging Jensen off by the hair. "You're trying to buy him a drink purely on the basis that he's hot like burning. And if you think for one second I'm going to let you anywhere near him when you're so goddamn shallow, you're fucking insane." Jared pauses, studies him a second longer, and then adds, "And you've spilled something down your t-shirt. It looks like ketchup. Ha!"
There's a long, stunned silence as Jensen and the guy digest this. Jared slumps over the table, nurses his beer and tries to keep the growl in his throat from getting too loud.
Eventually, Jensen says, "No, we're not together. But I'll pass on the drink, thanks."
After the guy backs off, Jensen sits quietly for another long while. Jared watches the bubbles in his glass drift up to the surface. It's just as well he's a little inebriated, he figures, because otherwise, he could be feeling pretty embarrassed right now.
"You know," says Jensen, "when I'm not being paid for it, I get to choose who I spend time with. You get to vet my clients, not the people I fuck for fun."
Jared tilts his head just enough to look Jensen in the face. "So go over there," he says. "Explain I'm a dumb fuck who don't know what he's saying. I'm sure he'll find it in his heart to forgive you. Somehow."
"You are a dumb fuck," says Jensen equably. His voice drops to a mutter, gaze fixed on the tabletop. "I'm not going over there. I'm here with you, aren't I?"
:::
Jensen has been fidgeting ever since Jared picked him up this afternoon. He started off fidgeting with his tie and his cufflinks, flat old-gold studs that spark against the sharp white cuffs of his shirt. Then he fusses with his hair for a while, flipping the mirror down to tug the gelled strands this way and that. When he moves on to examining his teeth, Jared can't keep his mouth shut any longer.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?"
He's grinning as he says it but Jensen starts guiltily and then glares at him. He snaps the mirror closed and slumps back in his seat, arms folding over his chest. Then he unfolds his arms and checks his sleeves for creases, holding the thin white material up to the rays of sunlight that slant through the windows.
"Jeez!" says Jared. "Seriously, what has gotten in to you?"
Jensen huffs irritably and then gives a jerky shrug.
"This appointment. This guy."
Jared flicks him a concerned look. "You don't like him?"
"I've never met him," says Jensen. "This is his first appointment."
There's a problem there. It's evident from Jensen's tone and his behavior, but Jared's really not seeing it. Eventually, he has to give in and say, "So?"
Jensen huffs again and fidgets some more in his seat, looking petulant and maybe a little uncomfortable. His lips work as he chooses his words, then he carefully says, "I'm not good with new people. I get… I get… a little, well…"
"Shy?" Jared prompts, lips curling into a wide grin. "You get shy? How can you get shy? Oh my God, you're kidding me, right? How can you get shy?"
At Jensen's thoroughly pissed off frown, Jared can't help laughing so hard he thinks he might break something. He laughs until it gets hard to breathe and he thinks maybe he should pull the car over before they crash into something.
"I hear picturing 'em naked helps?" Jared offers in a very shaky voice, using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. And then collapses into laughter again.
"Oh that's funny," says Jensen acidly. "Great. Y'know, I knew there was a way for today to get just a little bit shittier. And you finding this a huge joke, that's… well that's just great. Thanks for that, man."
The abrupt surge of guilt that rushes through Jared, hard and uncomfortable in his chest, effectively drives all the laughter out of him. He sighs and squirms against the sensation of being a huge jerk.
"I just… I just, I don't understand how you can get shy. You regularly have sex with people you don't really know all that well."
"I know what they want!" Jensen protests. "I don't know. I just don't know if… if I'm what he's expecting. If I'm what he wants. Or if I'm gonna make an idiot of myself."
Right then, Jared can only turn and stare at him. Because it's hard to believe that Jensen can actually feel that way. And it hurts Jared in an odd way that he does.
"All right," he says, trying to find something to say that Jensen might listen to. Because really he wants to launch into an impassioned declaration of how impossibly awesome Jensen is and how, by doubting it, he's making Jared feel bad for not having properly convinced him of it by everything he's said and done so far. "Look, you're gorgeous. And he's paying for the privilege of… being with you. You've got nothing to be shy about. He couldn't be with you without giving you a shitload of cash. He's had to buy you because you're too beautiful for him to have a hope in hell with otherwise."
They don't speak again until they've arrived at the hotel and Jared's handing the car keys to the valet.
"That's a pretty fantastic way of looking at what I do," Jensen says, sounding thoughtful.
Jared shrugs like it's nothing but he can't help flushing.
They take the elevator together up to the suite. Jensen is still fidgeting a little and, almost instinctively, Jared reaches out and lays his hand between his shoulder blades, fingers splayed over the dove gray fabric of his jacket. Jensen glances back at him over his shoulder, lashes fluttering as he blinks in surprise. But he doesn't say anything about it and he relaxes with the subtle points of contact between him and Jared.
The client is already waiting for them in the room, twisting round the neck of a bottle of champagne where it rests in a bucket of ice. The crunch of the ice as the glass of the bottle grinds over it is sharp in the air. He looks up as Jensen and Jared come into the room, and Jared's not sure what to make of him.
He's in his forties and the bulk he's carrying was probably pure muscle when he was younger. In fact, he probably used to be pretty hot. Now though? Not so much. The way he holds himself though suggests he hasn't seen that memo. Still carries himself like he's God's finest achievement to date. He's not vain so much as he is sure of what he's owed. And he watches them too closely. His gaze shifts between the two of them, appraising them both with an eager glint in his hooded eyes.
Jensen takes a smooth step forward and the client twitches and his gaze locks on to him.
"Mr Delacroix," he says. There's a slight hesitation as Jensen tries to read whether Delacroix will want to shake his hand or not. He settles for not because Delacroix seems preoccupied with looking him over.
"Oh yes," Delacroix murmurs.
It doesn't take long for Jared to get sick of standing there, watching Delacroix assess Jensen. He clears his throat and smiles politely but a little impatiently when Delacroix's attention finally snaps to him.
"I'll be waiting down in the lobby for Jensen," he says and the meaning is made clear as Jared looks Delacroix in the eye and Delacroix's the first to look away.
Not altogether happy but having nothing that he can put his finger on as unacceptable, Jared takes the elevator down to the lobby and flips his book of Sudoku open. He can't concentrate on it though and ends up watching the people going by and the broad beams of sunlight washing over the marble floor and the vibrant greenery of the tall potted palms. The tip of his pen taps an irregular beat against the empty margin of the puzzle book.
He worries a little about Jensen, wonders how hard he's trying to be everything that Delacroix could want him to be. Prostitutes should aim to please, Jared supposes, but he wonders if the way Jensen tries so hard to please could be why he's apparently so proficient at attracting weirdos and turning people psycho.
His cellphone vibrates against his thigh and Jared pulls it out, looks at it. Jensen, it says. He's on his feet and striding towards the stairs even as he's answering the call.
"You okay?" he says.
"I feel weird," Jensen says, low and mumbling. "I think there was something in the champagne."
"I'm coming," he says, firm and calm, and he bounds up the main hotel staircase.
The last time he went charging up to Jensen's hotel room he was too blind with panic to be able to function properly. It’s different this time. Last time, he was only operating on a suspicion something was wrong. Now he knows there's something wrong. Jensen's called for him. And the sense of purpose, the sense that whatever the problem is, Jensen's called for him and all Jared has to do is get to him, brings a detached, single-mindedness to him. He's not panicking, not all over the place, not stumbling or unable to get the keycard to work. He's going to get Jensen - that's it, that's everything.
When he gets into the hotel room, Jensen's not in sight. There's a champagne glass on its side on the floor, a small puddle of spilled alcohol around it, and Delacroix's banging on the bathroom door, rattling the doorknob. He looks over, wide-eyed and red-faced, as Jared approaches. Whatever the expression is on Jared's face, it's enough to freak out Delacroix. He holds up a hand and tries to back away.
Jared grabs him by the arm, his fingers digging into the fleshiness, and hauls him away from the door.
"No, no! You don’t understand," Delacroix splutters. "I didn’t give him anything dangerous - it's just supposed to relax him! It'll wear off in a couple of hours! I just… I like it when they're all drowsy and quiet, how they move and respond, it's just how I like it!"
Jared's hand is still on Delacroix and the urge to do him some serious harm blossoms red-hot and pulsing in his chest. His fingers flex and Delacroix's voice dribbles away as he stares up into Jared's face. Then sense takes hold of him again and Jared pushes Delacroix over towards the other side of the room, watching him stagger as the force behind it almost knocks Delacroix from his feet.
He picks up Delacroix's jacket and flings it at his face.
"And how d'you like getting your ass kicked? Get the fuck outta here!" When Delacroix goes on staring at him, Jared takes a warning step towards him and barks, "Now!"
Jared keeps his eyes on him until Delacroix has fled from the room, the door banging shut behind him. And in the sudden silence, panic finally creeps in. The ice-smooth determination starts to ebb away because Jared has no idea what state Jensen's and he needs to have him right in front of him now so he can start making it better. He taps on the bathroom door, not trying the doorknob yet because he doesn’t want to spook Jensen.
"Jen? Jen, I'm here. He's gone now. It's just me."
It's silent and Jared holds his breath, straining for the faintest sound that will tell him he's not too late. He puts his hand on the doorknob, the metal slick and cold to the touch. But before he can turn it, it rattles lightly and then the door swings wide and, without it to hold him up, Jensen slumps out onto the floor. Jared's instantly on his knees beside him, arms around him and cradling his face against his palm.
"God, Jen, tell me you're all right… Shit, shit-shit-shit! It's all right, man, I got you. You're gonna be all right."
"Hey. S'quatch."
Jensen's eyes are barely open but they track to Jared's face. His shirt is unbuttoned and his chest is rising and falling only very slowly. Jared heaves a sigh, sending up a prayer of thanks that Jensen is at least conscious and reasonably aware of his surroundings. He readjusts his position so he can get an arm under Jensen's legs and scoop him up against his chest. It takes Jared a slight stumble to adjust to carrying Jensen's weight and he feels Jensen's hand on his wrist, blunt well-manicured nails scrabbling lightly.
"Can fuckin' walk," Jensen says dimly. "Lemme fuckin' walk."
He struggles some more and Jared realises he has a choice of putting him down or dropping him and opts for the less-damaging option. There's a second when Jensen's knees fold beneath him and he lurches towards the ground before Jared catches him again, letting Jensen rest his weight against Jared's bulk while he steadies himself. Jared finds it hard to keep his hands off Jensen when he's this vulnerable and Jared has been so recently anxious about his well-being, which is why it is great all round that Jensen doesn’t shrug the arm off that Jared keeps wrapped around his shoulders. Jared would really have to insist on his arm being there otherwise.
"C'mon," Jared says. "Imma take you outta here. Gonna take care of you. S'all right."
"Shirt," Jensen mumbles. "Buttons."
Jared soothes him and tries to get him towards the door before Jensen starts struggling again and repeats Shirt. Buttons. irritably a few more times. Jared stares at him, ready to try soothing him some more, before Jensen's awkward fumbling with his shirt helps him catch on.
"Aww, c'mon, man," he says, barely believing it. "You're high on who knows what. Now is not the time to worry about being suitably dressed. You get a pass when you've been roofied."
All the same, he does the buttons up on Jensen's shirt, trying to keep Jensen propped up on his shoulder as he does so. He's pretty sure that as he's doing Jensen's buttons, his knuckles skimming Jensen's ribs, Jensen is smelling his hair. The first inhalation makes him want to jerk upright but he catches himself before he can headbutt Jensen. Instead, he tilts his face to look up into Jensen's face. Jensen gives him a doped, serene smile.
"You have the best frickin' hands on the planet," he says, and Jared doesn't think he's ever heard the Texas thicker in Jensen's drawl. "Feel free to put 'em on me anytime."
Jared flushes brilliantly and nods. "Right," he says. "Okay. Let's get you to the ER."
"No way," Jensen protests, even as Jared's urging him towards the door. "Imma be fine. Just take me home. Not goin' to the hospital."
"You're going," Jared tells him. And before Jensen can argue any more, Jared turns him about bodily to look him in the eye. "You called me for help. And I'm going to help. That bastard's put fuck-knows-what in your system and you're going to the hospital. Even if I have to carry you the whole damn way."
Jensen protests all the way down to the car and it's only fortunate that he's not strong enough to raise his voice because they get enough odd looks as it is, what with Jared holding Jensen - barefoot, heavy-lidded and listing - upright as he hurries him out of the hotel.
Despite the way it turns his stomach to think of Delacroix wanting to fuck Jensen like that, helpless and pliant, Jared thinks maybe he was telling the truth about the sedative. He doubts it's harmful in the long-term, not that he's prepared to risk it. He wants Jensen in the hospital and he wants the drug out of his system. Even if it's simply supposed to relax him, the sedative has hit Jensen pretty hard. Jared has to all but lift him into the car when the valet brings it round.
On the drive to the hospital, Jensen sinks down in his seat, his cheek pressed to the window and his knees turned the same way. His eyelids keep drooping closed and his breathing comes deep and languid. Keeping his eyes on the road, Jared has to keep prompting him for some kind of response because the second Jensen slips into unconsciousness is when Jared is going to return to full-panic mode.
He flips his cell to hands-free and calls Sam, waiting impatiently for the call to connect.
"Hi, Jared, what's-" she starts.
"I'm taking Jensen to the ER at Cedars-Sinai," Jared cuts in. His voice is level but he doesn't have the mental reserves for an in-depth conversation about this. "The client drugged him. He's conscious but pretty out of it."
To Jared's relief, all Sam says is, "I'll meet you there."
He ends the call and flicks another glance at Jensen, checking for consciousness. He needn't have worried - Jensen is looking back at him, soft-eyed and his hair ridiculously mussed.
"Y'know, if you think it'd improve our working relationship-" (Jared thinks he said 'working relationship' but it's hard to tell when Jensen's voice is so slurred,) "-I'd be totally fine with getting fucked by you."
Jared's hands tighten abruptly on the steering wheel but he laughs and shakes his head. "Really can't afford you, buddy."
"Oh it'd be on the house," says Jensen, his words a smooth, lazy drawl.
Stalwartly ignoring the rush of blood to his cock, Jared somehow keeps the car on the road and says, "Well that'd be an interesting idea if you weren't making it while hopped up on some crazy-making shit." He's impressed by how casual his voice comes out.
Jensen murmurs something else and Jared can't unscramble it from all the slurring. He glances over at Jensen, intending to get him to repeat it, but Jensen's eyes are closed. He seems to be sleeping, but Jared tastes fear in his mouth, cold and bitter as old metal. He grits his teeth and puts his foot to the floor.
:::
He can’t rouse Jensen. Has to carry him into the crowded ER, bellowing for someone to please help.
"Someone put something in his drink," Jared tells the doctor who comes over. "I don't know what, about half an hour ago, maybe longer. He was just sleepy at first but it's knocked him out."
He should be able to relax a little now he's gotten Jensen here but the jumble of their conversation, all brisk commands and reports, leaves him feeling useless and out of his depth. He watches helplessly as the nurses hustle Jensen's limp body onto a gurney and tries to follow them down the corridor. One of the nurses, a middle-aged woman with steel-gray hair, puts a hand up to stop him.
"You family?" she says.
"No," says Jared, peering round her to where he can see the gurney disappearing into one of the rooms, lost in the bustle of the medical staff around it. "No, just a friend."
"Then you're gonna have to stay out here," she says. "C'mon, I'll show you where you can wait. Don't worry, we'll take good care of your friend."
The strength and will to fight has gone. Jared feels drained and sick with the fading adrenaline. He lets her shepherd him to a chair and hunches forwards, forearms resting on his thighs, as he stares blankly at the fresh, mint-green walls and gets lost in the constant clamor of the ER around him. Virtually every time a nurse or doctor walks by, Jared perks up in anticipation of news of Jensen. But Sam arrives almost an hour later and Jared still hasn't heard anything since he brought Jensen in.
Her suit is peacock blue, Jared notes with detached interest. She spots him and marches straight over. She's pale beneath her tan and a little out of breath. Jared guesses she hurried to get here. She gives him a quick, motherly hug and then sits down next to him. She doesn't prompt him, simply waits for him to speak even though she's clearly on edge, hands an anxious little knot in her lap.
"Delacroix drugged him," Jared says eventually. "Some kind of a kink thing he's got going. Jensen locked himself in the bathroom and called me. I threw Delacroix out and brought Jen straight here."
"And Delacroix?" Sam says, dark eyes fixed on Jared's face. "Did you hurt him?"
"Worried I've scared off a paying customer?" Jared snaps and curls his lips back in a bitter smirk.
"Don’t you get punchy with me, Jared," Sam snaps right back at him. "You think we can afford to have Delacroix go running to the police? You think Jensen would appreciate you getting him brought up on prostitution charges?"
The enormity of the situation can't quite penetrate beyond the fact Sam's apparently concerned for the safety of a man who wanted to fuck Jensen in a fairly comatose state. Jared tries to care, rationally he knows he should but it's too hard to get his brain past the fact Delacroix fed Jensen God knows what, simply for his own fucked up kink. He tries taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
"I didn’t hurt him," he says, as cool as possible. "I did exactly what you hired me to do: I protected Jensen. I got Delacroix out of the room because Jensen wasn't coming out of the bathroom while he was still there. I grabbed his arm and I shouted at him. I didn't punch him in the jaw like he fucking deserved."
Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Finally she nods and stands up, brushing down the skirt of her suit.
"I'm gonna go find someone to talk to. See if someone won't tell me how he is." She closes her eyes for a second, looking tired and washed-out. "See if I can't make sure they're not calling the cops."
Jared watches her go and then goes back to staring at the wall.
:::
Turns out, Delacroix wasn't lying. He'd used a pretty heavy-duty sedative but nothing serious. The doctor who comes to talk to Sam and Jared even seems a little disgruntled that Jensen had been brought in and taken up valuable time and resources in the ER.
"Of course you couldn't know," she says. "But it'll be out of his system in no time at all." She flashes a professional smile and adds, "Just tell him to watch his drinks a little more carefully in future."
All of the bleak, hollow worry that had been sitting on Jared right up until then disappears, as lightly and completely as if he'd never felt it. Jensen's going to be fine. He was never in any serious danger and if Jared ever sees Delacroix again he's still going to kick his ass from here to New York.
They collect Jensen and before Jared can even get there, Sam is all over him, going up on her toes to catch his face and turn it this way and that to better examine him. Jensen's unsteady on his feet and groggy but very much more himself. Jared wonders how much of their conversation earlier Jensen remembers and sincerely hopes Jensen's going to put it down as a drug-induced delusion. Jared will certainly deny all knowledge of it if asked. He's not going to humiliate Jensen with his altered-states rambling.
"Oh, baby," Sam coos, "what are you tryin' to do to me? Tryin' to turn my hair gray?"
"Tryin' to put you out of business," Jensen says with a hint of a smile.
"Now I don't wanna say I told you so," says Sam, "but are you gonna admit now that hiring Jared was a good idea?"
Jensen glances over at Jared and takes a moment before shrugging. "Ah, I could have handled it. Would'a just stayed in the bathroom and slept it off." But he catches Jared's eye as he says it and Jared's stomach gives an interesting flutter.
"I don't think you should be on your own tonight," Sam says, slipping her arm through Jensen's to escort him over to the car. Jared straightens up, wetting his lips to get the words out right to offer to sleep on Jensen's couch - or, y'know, in his bed if Jen would prefer it. But before he can, Sam says, "You're coming home with me tonight."
Jensen snickers and says, "Knew you'd give in to my rugged charms eventually, Ferris."
"Darling," she shoots back, coyly flattering her lashes at him, "if you can get it up tonight, after the amount of sedative you've been given, I'll take your clients for the next month."
"I'm not taking that bet on the grounds my clients would never forgive me," says Jensen nobly, after a moment's contemplation.
Jared's just swinging the rear car door open for Jensen when his cellphone goes again. "You get that, honey," says Sam. "I'll help Jensen. " Jared takes a step back to answer the call as Sam helps Jensen into the back and walks around to take the front passenger seat.
It's Liz, the producer on the Seraphim project. Jared's heart leaps into his throat. It's shaping up to be a pretty exhausting day. Jared's gonna be sleeping for a week.
"We've done some thinking, Jared," she says, "and we'd very much like you to come on board as Azrael. This is all pending contract and legal talk but… we want you for our fallen angel, baby!"
"Oh," says Jared. "Wow."
Jensen is curled up in the back seat of the SUV and Sam's leaning back over to try to flatten the absurd spikes his hair's gone in to. If Jared hadn't been there today, Jensen would have had no one to help him. Delacroix would have eventually got him out of the bathroom when the drug knocked him out. And Jensen would have come to later on, fucked and disoriented and on his own.
And even if Sam hires someone in Jared's place, they're not going to care like Jared does. They're not going to be able to make Jensen laugh and take his mind off things when he's getting shy and they won't think to make sure he gets a decent meal after his last appointment of the day.
He frowns and wets his lips, barely able to comprehend that he's actually doing this. And he's still trying to come to terms with it in his head when he says, "Uh, thanks but… something's come up and… I'm sorry. I can't take the part. But thank you so much for considering me."
There's a second of stunned silence and then Liz says, "Are you sure I can't get you to reconsider? The network's really behind this one. I think it's going to be great and you really stood out from the rest."
"I'm sorry, no," says Jared. "I can't take the role."
"Well," Liz says. "Can't say I don't think you're crazy for turning this one down but you seem to have made up your mind."
"I have," says Jared. "But thank you."
After Liz ends the call, Jared stands for a second, fingertips resting against the SUV's hood. The sun is setting, a pink smudge in a yellow and orange sky. A warm breeze stirs his hair and washes over his skin. Then he climbs in behind the wheel and says, "I didn't get the part. Seraphim, they turned me down."
"God, Jay," Jensen says, "I'm sorry. But it's their loss, right? If they don't see how awesome you would have been on their show, then you don't wanna be on it anyway, yeah?"
"Yeah," says Jared, and turns the key in the ignition.
:::
Something very significant has changed. At first, Jared thought it was simply turning down the part. Which was actually not a small thing at all. That was an opportunity to step into the life he's been wanting for years, and he turned it down in order to stay close to Jensen. And he's staying close to Jensen with the expectation of nothing beyond friendship. Maybe Jensen will want more from him one day, maybe he won't - Jared's fine either way. It's not some pathetic unrequited love deal. It's that he's perfectly content just to spend time with Jensen like this.
But that suggests something else to Jared and it gnaws at him until he works up the nerve to do the right thing.
So he calls Sandy up and takes her out to dinner. Halfway through his braised beef in red wine, he stops just to look at her over the table. She's beautiful and bright and just about the most awesome girl he's ever met. Her dark hair hangs loose and fragrant around her shoulders and the pale pink of her dress emphasises her caramel tan.
She looks up, a forkful of her Caesar salad halfway towards her mouth. A curious smile tugs at her lips and she raises an eyebrow.
"What's that look for?" she says.
"Nothing," says Jared, flushing and looking out of the vast window at the shadowy shape of the palm trees against the star-scattered sky.
"No," says Sandy, "that look means something. Plus, you still have food on your plate, which definitely means you're not all right."
Jared had had no intention of having this conversation in the restaurant. He thinks the most tactful place to talk about this kind of thing is not a public place. Maybe when he was dropping her back home. Because this is going to be awkward and he doesn't want to hurt her, but it has to be done.
But he can't see a way out of this without lying to her right now. So he takes a deep breath and crumples his white linen napkin.
"Sandy, I think you're awesome and I really really don't want to hurt you. But… I'm not in love with you. And you deserve to know that now. In fact, I probably should have realised sooner and not wasted your time and-"
"Oh baby," Sandy says, looking at him with deep sympathy and affection. "Of course you're not in love with me. Did you really think you might be? Because… no. I know you're not. And I'm not in love with you. But… I do think you're a fantastic friend to have. Which is why you haven't been wasting my time."
He blinks at her. "You're not at all surprised," he says at last. "How long have you known?"
"Uh…" She counts on her fingers then gives him a bright smile and says, "About four months."
"And you couldn't have told me?" Jared demands. "This is something I should have known!"
"You seemed confused enough as it was. So, anyway, now that you know…" She props her chin up in her hand leans in, her tone dropping to something conspiratorial. "What's her name?"
"His," says Jared. Then adds, "But there's no one."
Sandy raises an eyebrow then laughs and reaches across the table to pinch Jared's cheek. "Oh honey, still so confused?"
:::
With Smallville on hiatus, Tom and Mike are down from Vancouver and back in town. Chad doesn't even give them an evening to settle back in before he drags them out to get drunk. He is also shameless about attempting to use any connections they might have in the industry to get himself acting work.
"So I hear you're a pimp now," says Mike when he sees Jared. He kicks a chair out for him at the table and pushes a bottle of beer at him. "How's that working out?"
Tom smacks him in the arm and then attempts to elbow him away from the table.
"Dude, you gotta talk some sense into him," says Chad. "He's totally in love with his ho. And doing nothing about getting his dick in him, except sniff around behind him and bitch about his johns."
Jared launches himself at Chad and grabs him in a headlock, and the whole table almost goes over with the way Chad struggles to escape and Jared grimly hangs on to him, except Tom grabs it and holds it down. When Jared finally lets him loose, Chad is pink-cheeked and scruffy-haired. He glowers up at Jared and spreads his hands in a what?! gesture.
"Do I lie? Or am I telling God's own fucking truth, Jay?"
"I'm lost," says Mike. "He's a prostitute. He has sex for money, right? Don't you have money?"
"Probably not enough," Tom says, then he looks Jared in the eye with a faintly amused grin. "Am I right?"
"Oh Jenny's luxury goods," says Chad with an obnoxious drawl to his voice.
Mike looks at Jared for clarification, still looking bemused but enjoying Jared's embarrassed squirming. "Jenny? Oh wow! Are you pimp to a transsexual ho? That's awesome!"
"Jensen," Jared cuts in. "His name is Jensen."
"Jensen?" says Tom. He puts his bottle down and cocks his head at Jared. Instantly, his tone catches everyone's attention, which he doesn't appear entirely comfortable about, but he goes on looking to Jared. "Jensen Ackles? That's who you're working with?"
"You know him?" Mike says. He's leaning right in now, apparently enjoying himself immensely. Not only is Jared looking awkward, Chad's been in a headlock and had to fight his way out of it, and now Tom looks to be involved as well; Mike's having an awesome night.
Tom shrugs and peels the label off his beer bottle, flicking the shreds of paper across the tabletop. "Vaguely." He looks back at Jared and shakes his head. "I do definitely know, though, that he's not the kind of guy to appreciate you going all schmoopy-eyed at him."
"I haven't been goin' all 'schmoopy-eyed' at him," Jared protests. Then he smacks Chad upside the head and gestures in Tom and Mike's general direction. "See the shit you've started now? For serious, Chad, Imma throttle you one of these days you don't stop running your fucking mouth off, sayin' all this shit."
Mike leans back in his chair, hands resting loose on his thighs, and looks at Tom, narrow-eyed but a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. "So how'd you know him then?"
Jared shoots him a nervous glance because he's not sure if anyone else at the table is aware that Tom was how Jared got into this in the first place. But Tom just shrugs and doesn't seem bothered.
"Everyone knows everyone in L.A., don't they?"
And the conversation rolls on eventually to better things to keep Chad and Mike entertained. It's not until later, when Jared stumbles into the restrooms with Tom, that Tom looks at him and says, "I really hope you know what you're doing. With Jensen, I mean. 'Cause it's not exactly easy being in a relationship with someone who's regularly fucking at least five other people a week. You think you can make do with just… loving and being loved but-"
"Moulin Rouge is off my approved viewing list," Jared breaks in. "Same as Pretty Woman."
Tom looks at him a second, frustrated and concerned. Then he says, "Jared, you're a nice guy and I don't wanna see-"
"Jensen's a nice guy too," Jared interrupts.
"Yes, he is," says Tom. "Don't get me wrong, I like Jensen. I like him very much. But… it's not him I'm worried about. He can take care of himself."
"And I can't?" Jared laughs. "'Cause, y'know, Sam seems to think that I can take care of myself and take care of Jensen." He sees Tom start to try again and shakes his head, still grinning. "Tom, I get where you're coming from, I do. But I'm a big boy, I can handle it. And y'know, there's not even anything like that going on."
Tom doesn't look convinced.
:::
Jensen hasn't wanted to talk about Delacroix at all. Jared doesn't exactly blame him and he guesses there's not much to say, but he desperately wants Jensen to talk about it, just so Jared can stop worrying that Jensen's brooding on it. Jared hasn't stopped being angry about it and if nothing else, he'd like to be able to vent that rage at someone who understands.
Honestly, Jared doesn't like how Jensen has apparently taken the incident in his stride, as just an eventful day at the office. And Jensen treats him with mild confusion for expecting some kind of emotional fallout.
On the way up to the hotel suite - and it's even in the same goddamn hotel - Jared says, "Now, if you panic, or you need me to come up, for any reason at all, just gimme a call and I'll be right there."
Jensen nods but shoots him an amused, doubtful look. "Good to know."
"Anything at all," Jared reiterates. "If you just feel like you want to take some time away-"
"No, I'm good." As Jared goes on staring at him in unhappy disbelief, Jensen gives him a reassuring smile. "Seriously, man. I'm good."
Crazily, Jensen does actually seem to be telling the truth, whether Jared thinks he should be or not. Unfortunately he doesn't get time to prod him into finally showing some of the emotions Jared thinks he should be because they're at the room.
And it's Quentin. Jared stumbles to a halt at the sight of him and his eyes go wide. This has the potential to be all kinds of bad.
Quentin's sitting on the end of the bed, fiddling with his BlackBerry, but he stands up to greet them as they come into the room. He beams at Jared and Jared tries to give a small shake of his head to communicate a dear-God-please-do-not-say-anything vibe. Which Quentin obviously doesn't catch.
"I'm hearing good things about you and Seraphim, kid!" Quentin says, grabbing Jared's hand and pumping it vigorously.
Jared tries to free his hand while looking over to catch Jensen's reaction to this. Jensen doesn't look happy. "Uh no," he says. "No, they thought about me, but decided I wasn't right for the role."
Quentin frowns and Jared desperately tries to think of something else to fill the silence before he can say anything else and make it worse. "Are you sure?" says Quentin. "Because I spoke to Liz and Jed straight after the auditions and they were full of love for you."
"Must have changed their mind," says Jared, uncomfortably aware of Jensen's blank-eyed gaze on him.
"Huh," says Jensen in a flat voice. "Must have." Then, lips pursed and one eyebrow raised, he looks to Jared, clearly waiting for him to leave.
Quentin's gaze darts between them, mouth open as if to speak and Jared is past caring now because he's pretty sure the damage is done.
:::
Any hope Jared might have had that Jensen would have calmed down a little by the time Quentin was finished with him evaporates the second he sees Jensen stalking towards him across the hotel lobby.
Incandescent with rage always seemed like a stupid phrase to Jared right up until this moment. Fucking pissed off usually covered it pretty much. And yeah, fucking pissed off really does apply to Jensen, but Jared can see how the whole incandescent with rage would work too. If Jared stares hard enough, he's sure he's actually going to be able to see the waves of fury rolling off Jensen.
It's probably kind of damaged of Jared to think Jensen is exceptionally hot when he's looking more than a little homicidal, and all of it's directed at him.
"You got the part, didn't you?" Jensen hisses at him. He catches Jared's shoulder and drags him upright so he can prod a finger into Jared's breastbone. "You got the fucking part, didn't you?"
"Are you gonna prod me again if I say yes?" Jared says, unable to help the whine in his voice as he rubs the sore patch.
"Imma slaughter you!" Jensen snarls. He shakes his head and wheels about, staring at the hotel entrance, all gleaming, sun-bright glass. Jared can see his shoulders rise and fall as he heaves in breath. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Jared? What the fuck is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem," he says simply. "Yeah, they offered me the role. I decided to turn it down. I didn't want to take it. And I'm not gonna feel guilty about it simply because you think I should'a taken it. It's my life."
Jensen turns back to look at him, still - yes - incandescent. "And you're fucking it up."
Jared shrugs and brushes past Jensen as he moves to leave. But Jensen's fingers curl about his wrist and stop him. When he looks back at Jensen, the fury's been replaced with something he can't quite recognise. There's a stillness about him, a watchfulness centered entirely on Jared. There are people all around them but Jared barely registers them over his acute awareness of Jensen's fingers on his skin.
Finally, sure that Jared isn't going to try to leave again, Jensen lets his hand drop. And Jared's pulse beats all the harder for no longer having Jensen's fingertips pressed to it.
"Jen?" Jared says softly. "I know you were trying to help me but-"
Jensen's tongue flickers pink and wet over his lips and then he says, cutting Jared clean off, "Do you need to get it out of your system? Do you need to know what it is they're all paying for? 'Cause if that's why you're hanging around, c'mon, let's get to it and then you can go back to your life and I can move on."
When Jared opens his mouth to answer, all that comes out is a huff of breath. Jensen slaps him lightly in the chest and says, "C'mon, cowboy, let's go. Imma give you the works, won't cost you a dime."
Jared takes a smooth step back and pastes on a smile.
"You vain little bastard. Fuck you, and fuck your generous offer."
Right now, Jared is totally incandescent.
:::
They don't talk in the car. Jared is still enraged and it's difficult to tell from the taut lines of Jensen's body and the tight set of his face whether he's still pissed off or if he's humiliated or what. At first, Jared doesn't care either way but gradually he starts to hate the silence. He keeps taking a breath to say something and he's pretty sure Jensen goes very still each time he does. And then Jared doesn't know what to say and Jensen lapses back into sulking or brooding or something.
Finally, without bothering to draw breath because that gives him time to think, Jared blurts out, "I don't wanna be like them. I don't want you thinking I'm like them. And it's kinda mean of you to act like you think the only reason I'm sticking with you is 'cause I wanna fuck you."
It takes Jensen a while to answer and he doesn't look away from the window when he does. "You wouldn't even know how to be like them, Jared. It's just… you're so freaking young. And you're wasting opportunities I would'a killed for. Just… you gotta get outta this, man. Seriously."
He might have gone on to say more - not that there's really anything he could say to change Jared's mind - but his cellphone starts to hum. A brief conversation follows that Jared can just about string together from the one side of it he hears: Sam wants them both in the office. Right away. It feels weirdly like being summoned to the Principal's office and Jared runs a quick catalogue in his head of the things he might have done wrong recently. Delacroix is at the top of the list.
"Any idea what she wants?" Jared says, flicking a glance at Jensen, who's turning his cell over and over between his palms.
Jensen gives a single shake of his head and then flashes Jared a small, rueful smile. "Let's just assume crash positions, yeah?"
:::
At the office, Mel has two cups of strong coffee waiting for them. Jensen accepts a cup from her extremely gratefully, then jerks his head towards Sam's door and says, "So? What are we doing here?"
Sneaking a peek at Sam's door herself, as if expecting Sam to come bursting through at any minute, Mel shrugs and wrinkles her nose thoughtfully.
"Carl Lowes came in about two hours ago," Mel says. "He and Sam have been shut up in a meeting ever since." She raises her eyebrows at Jensen, mock-stern. "You been playing nicely with the man, Jen?"
"If I've pissed him off," says Jensen, "then it's news to me."
"He's permanently pissed off with me," Jared says. He has a sinking feeling that this is not quite so much about Jensen as it is him. He's not sure why but Carl has never warmed to him, always treats him as a necessary inconvenience to be sent on his way as swiftly as possible so Carl can have his time alone with Jensen.
"Oh he's like that with me," says Mel, and Jared feels mildly better because Mel is a sweetheart and if Carl doesn't like her than Jared never stood a chance.
Jensen takes a loud slurp of his coffee and smirks. "Don't know what you mean. He's a real teddy bear."
"I'm guessing you probably see a different side than I do," says Jared, patting him indulgently on the arm. "Probably lots of different sides."
The door opens then and Sam's standing there, a strained smile on her face. Behind her, through the doorway, Jared can see Carl sitting in front of her desk. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't look happy. The atmosphere instantly deadens.
"Jensen, Jared, could you step in here?" says Sam.
As Jensen steps past her into the office, she makes eye contact with him, holding his gaze for a second. Jared doesn't know what exactly is being communicated, only that it means trouble. Carl rises to his feet when he sees Jensen and is abruptly all smiles - and hands. Jared frowns at the way he grabs one of Jensen's hands in both of his, one gripping his fingers and the other clasping his wrist.
Jensen greets him with quiet grace and then takes a chair over the other side of the room. Finally tearing his eyes away from Jensen, Carl sees Jared coming into the room.
"What's he doing here?" he demands, looking at Sam. "This is nothing to do with him. I want him to leave."
"Jared's involved, Carl," says Sam, calm and sweet.
She gestures to him to take a seat and Jared chooses one that will put him directly in Carl's path to Jensen. Carl pointedly doesn't look at him but he fumes and his foot twitches irritably, designer brown leather shoe bobbing up and down.
Sam sinks behind her desk, spreads her hands out on the smooth surface and summons up a smile that encompasses them all.
"Okay. So, let's bring everyone up to speed." She licks her lips and then says, "Carl's been having some trouble adjusting to your presence, Jared. He understands the role you play and he accepts that. However, he felt that seeing as he's enjoyed a long and untroubled relationship with Jensen, he should be entitled to a different level of trust."
Jared immediately sits straighter in his chair. Carl's foot stops twitching for a second and then starts up again, more frenetic than ever.
"I felt that wasn't something I could accommodate," says Sam, and Jared thinks about relaxing until her next words make that impossible. "And so Carl suggested that, if Jensen's situation was potentially so risky, perhaps Jensen would consider limiting his services exclusively to him."
Carl leans forward in his chair and tries to catch Jensen's eye. But Jensen is looking directly at Sam and his elegant sprawl has tightened to something much sharper.
"How would that work?" he asks Sam.
"You wouldn't be on this agency's books anymore. It would be an arrangement between you and Carl."
"I would take care of everything," Carl says, his voice sincere and eager. "I would handle your accommodation, your clothes, any expense. You wouldn't have to let any of those men ever touch you again. All I would expect is for us to…" He smiles and the intimacy it suggests is entirely inappropriate for the public setting. "All I'd expect is for you to go on loving me."
There's a long uncomfortable silence. Jensen looks horrified and Carl is apparently oblivious to that because he goes on smiling at him in that creepy, adoring way. It's about time for Sam to say something - preferably a loud fuck off to Carl - but her gaze is fixed on the surface of her desk, distancing herself from the situation.
So Jared clears his throat and looks straight at Carl and says, "You don't expect him to decide right now, do you? Something like this, he'll need time to think over, right?" He glances at Jensen, sees him still looking horrified, then looks back at Carl. "He's heard you out. But you get that it's a big decision for him?"
"I'm not-" Jensen starts, but he breaks off and shakes his head, falling totally silent again.
"I don't know how you think this involves you, young man," Carl says to Jared. And it's more than just not warming to him. Jared would swear up and down that Carl's looking at him with honest-to-God hatred in his eyes. "You're part of the problem. Always hanging around him. Looking at him."
Jensen stands up abruptly and takes a breath. He smiles at Carl and Jared would think it was genuine except for the way it doesn't reach his eyes. It seems enough to convince Carl though and he beams back at him.
"Jared's right," Jensen says, still smiling. "This is something I really need to think about. But I definitely will think about it. Right now, I've gotta get home and… well, think." He'd already edging towards the door and reaches it by the time he finishes talking. He flashes Jared a quick, pleading look. "Time to go."
Carl's smile is wavering, Jensen is reaching for the door handle and Jared gets the sudden impression of a crazy man being humored in case he turns out to be crazy, dangerous man.
They manage to escape to the garage and move quickly towards the SUV. Neither of them have spoken and Jared's not sure whether he wants to WTF?! or belly-laugh. Maybe both. From the look on Jensen's face, Jared suspects he may be in need of a bellyful of beer. He won't deny being deeply relieved that Jensen apparently has no intention of agreeing to Carl's proposition.
"Still, 'kept boy'… that's gotta be a step up from 'prostitute'," Jared says. "Classier, I think."
"You? Are out of your mind," Jensen says. He looks at Jared and gives a shaky laugh. "Well, at least I know I got options, right? Exciting options."
"Foregone conclusion, my ass," says Jared. He pats Jensen playfully on the cheek, laughing as Jensen tries to bat him away. "Should'a just held out longer, should'a been more ambitious - could'a gone straight for being a rich man's bed-buddy."
"Jensen?" They both wheel around and see Carl heading towards them. His lips curl back in a sneer as he sees Jared's hand hovering over Jensen's face. "I knew you were trying to take him away from me. I knew it. Everyone said you were just there to drive him around, but I knew."
"Get in the car," Jared says, keeping his eyes on Carl. When Jensen doesn't move, he flashes him an exasperated look. "Jensen, get in the car, I'll take care of this."
"Fuck that shit," Jensen snaps at him and he moves to stand beside him. "Don't need you protecting me, Padalecki." He rolls his shoulders then looks at Carl, who's still got a death-glare going at Jared. "Look, Carl, I'm really flattered by your offer. But I'm happy with the way things are. So it's gonna have to be a 'no'. Sorry."
Slowly, Carl's gaze shifts to Jensen, and Jared desperately wants to move in front of him. Carl blinks at him and then shakes his head and smiles. Jared hates that smile. The very sight of it makes him frown.
"Maybe I didn't explain it properly," Carl says. "You wouldn't have to worry about money. Or those other people making you do those disgusting things. You'd be safe and protected and loved."
Jensen doesn't hesitate. "It's still 'no'."
Carl takes a step towards them and Jared gives in to instinct then and steps in front of Jensen. He raises his hands in what he hopes comes across as soothing but he's more interested in being able to make a grab for Carl before he can reach Jensen.
"You did this, didn't you?" Carl says to Jared. "You're trying to take him away from me. I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you."
"Jared hasn't done anything. This has nothing to do with Jared," Jensen says. "C'mon, Carl, things are fine as they are. Aren't we having fun?" He moves past Jared and reaches out to Carl, tidies up the knot of his tie. "C'mon, baby, don't spoil a good thing."
Carl puts his hands over Jensen's and leans in to kiss him. Jensen lets him, lips brushing Carl's briefly, before he gently disentangles himself.
Carl's fingers twitch fretfully as he has to let him go.
"So, can we drop the idea?" Jensen says. "Just… carry on as we were?" His tone is low and cajoling and Jared wonders why Carl can't hear how very fake it is. And, rather smugly, concludes that it's because Carl doesn't know him nearly half as well as Jared does.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, Carl nods and both Jared and Jensen relax. Then Carl looks to Jared again and his jaw snaps taut. "But I don't want you having anything to do with him," he tells Jensen, still scowling at Jared. "I don't trust him. And he should remember that I am not someone he wants to cross."
"He'll remember," Jensen says soothingly. He looks at Jared and Jared nods in earnest agreement. "He's just going to drive me home and then-"
"I could drive you home," Carl says.
"No, that's fine, thanks," says Jensen and he's closing the distance between him and the Porsche now. Jared stays where he is, which just happens to be in Carl's way of Jensen. Jensen opens the door and gives Carl another smile.
Once he hears Jensen's door slam shut, Jared backs around to his own door and climbs in. They don’t talk, both still tense and watching Carl, who's staring back at them, forlorn and frustrated in the dull mint glow of the garage's lighting.
Jared starts the car up and makes a quick getaway, still keeping an eye on Carl's receding figure in the rear view mirror. Beside him, Jensen pulls out his cellphone and calls Sam.
"Hey, change of plans," Jensen says. "Take Carl off the books. I'm not taking any more appointments with him. Make it sweet, if you can. But I'm not shifting on this."
Jared approves vigorously - but silently - of this development. Because otherwise, he just knows he'd have ended up with his blood pressure going sky-high each time Jensen was alone in a room with Carl. Much better to cut Carl off. Even if he's not sure Carl's going to feel the same way. And then he has to start worrying about that.
"Are you sure he's not gonna go even crazier without his weekly fix?" he says, once Jensen's ended the call.
"Not completely," Jensen says airily. He shrugs at the concerned look Jared gives him. "What are my options here really? Go on seeing him, when he's already turning into a whackjob? Nah, much better to cut him off now. I'll bet you good money that in six months he'll be thinking of me as a manipulative whore and thinking himself lucky I didn't agree to it."
"How do you do it?" says Jared. "How do you manage to find that bit of someone that's completely unstable?" He pauses and frowns. "And how come it hasn't worked on me?"
Jensen laughs, short and rueful. He shakes his head. "Jay, you turned down the lead role on a TV show in order to go on driving me around town. Who says it hasn't worked?"
part six
Jensen doesn't go with Jared to the audition. He wishes him luck and makes sure he's had a proper breakfast and he tells him how much he rocks and that if this doesn't work out then something better is bound to come along. Then he demands that Jared call him to let him know how it goes and waves him off.
Jared sits in the waiting room with about twenty other guys, all of whom seem meaner, broodier and more badass than him. None of them are taller than him though and Jared pins his hopes on tallness being one of the principal characteristics the producers see for Azrael. He flips through a magazine, foot jiggling nervously, as one by one the guys in front of him are called in.
And then, when it's his turn, the unexpected happens: Jared does rock. He connects straight away with one of the producers, a woman called Liz, and one of the other producers seems to like what he sees very much indeed, if the blatant staring is anything to go by. Jared doesn't flub a single line, doesn't fall into any of his usual anxiety-tics and the longer the audition goes on, the more confident he gets and the better he is.
"That was very impressive, Jared," says the male producer who still hasn't stopped staring, leaning back in his chair when Jared finishes. He doesn't even have to check his notes for Jared's name.
"Yeah, you really brought something new to the role," says Liz. "Don't think we've seen anyone play it like that yet. And it works."
Jared leaves the room feeling wickedly magnificent. He makes it out of the building and props himself up against the wall, basking in the sunlight and watching the water in the fountain sparkle like broken glass jumping in the air. His cellphone has barely started the call to Jensen when it's picked up.
"You rocked, am I right?" says Jensen.
"Man, I was… I was on fire! I don't even care if I don't get it because I know I was awesome. And if they don't want me after that, that's okay because I can't help being so goddamn awesome and that's the only way I know how to be!"
"And did they compliment you on your modesty too?" says Jensen but Jared can hear the laughter in his voice. "Come on, we'll go out for a beer, toast your awesomeness!"
"Hell, yeah!" says Jared. He pushes up off the wall, strolling aimlessly around the plaza at the front of the building. "Seriously, Jen, thank you. I never would'a-"
He breaks off as he looks up and sees someone approaching. It's Quentin, with a couple of other suits. They meet each other's eyes for just the briefest second and then Jared thinks of how Jensen is on those rare occasions he bumps into a client and he lets his gaze drift over Quentin's face and away. Quentin disappears into the building while Jensen's still going Hey, Jay, you still there? Jay?
The warm bubble of satisfaction that had been in Jared's chest deflates a little. He hesitates and then brings the phone back up to his ear.
"Hey, sorry, got… uh… yeah. But yeah, celebratory beer sounds like an awesome idea. About seven, at the bar we were at last time?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Jared?" Quentin's come back, on his own this time. He waits for Jared to end the call with Jensen - and Jared's careful not to use Jensen's name - and then he offers a smile when it's just him and Jared. He glances around and Jared wonders if he's looking for Jensen. Then he says, "You here on business?"
Jared debates it for a second then decides that if Quentin's all that interested he's going to be able to find it out for himself anyway. So he shrugs and says, "Audition. For Seraphim."
Quentin pauses and then a smile tugs at his lips. "The script was for you."
Instantly, Jared decides he should have gone for lying after all. Who the hell ever said honesty was the best policy? He passes his cellphone from palm to palm and cocks his head at Quentin.
"Guess it doesn't matter now, right?"
Quentin's face hardens, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not connected with the Seraphim project. I can't swing it your way. So I hope your audition went well because that's what's going to matter."
"No," says Jared. "I… uh." He frowns, confused. "I thought you'd tell them not to use me. I know how squirrelly some people are about it getting out that-" He breaks off as Quentin tugs at his tie. The stoniness is gone from Quentin's expression though, and he shakes his head.
"Like I said, I'm not connected to the project, I'm not making the decisions. But I certainly wouldn't try to swing it against you simply because of… uh… who you work with." He tries a smile, a little surer than last time. "I like to think I play fair."
"Oh," says Jared. "Oh well, yeah."
"Good luck with it," says Quentin, as he heads back into the building, leaving Jared feeling wrong-footed and pleasantly surprised.
:::
While he tells Jensen every other detail of the audition, Jared doesn't mention running into Quentin. Once again, he's not sure if this is a mistake or not because there's every chance Quentin will mention it to Jensen when he next has him for an appointment. But he still feels awkward about it all somehow and doesn't want to put any of it on Jensen. It's too good an evening for any weirdness.
It's not a date, it's just two guys having a beer together but it's the first time they've done anything like this and Jared likes not having to share Jensen with anyone, likes not having the knowledge that there's someone just an hour or so down the line, waiting to have sex with him, likes that this is clearly and definitely non-work-related.
The bar's busier tonight than it was the other night but they've managed to snag a table in the corner and Jensen's on his second beer, looking amused and confused as Jared, who's on his fourth, earnestly tries to explain the role of cows in global warming and why it worries him so. Jensen's leaning in to hear him and Jared gets lost sometimes in what he's saying because he keeps trying to count Jensen's freckles and getting distracted. It's too warm to think straight anyway, and he can smell Jensen's soap on his skin, can see the faintest sheen of sweat gathering in his collarbone. His eyes look wild and electric in the dull glow of the artificial lights.
In the middle of making an important point, Jared slaps his hand down on the table, misses and almost falls into Jensen's lap. Jensen helps settle him back upright and his fingers linger a moment on the curve of defined muscle at Jared's shoulder.
"I'm not drunk," says Jared immediately. "And I know it's only drunk people who feel the need to say that but I'm really not."
Jensen nods and opens his mouth to say something, then stops, tilts his head to look up at the guy who's come over to their table. He's in his late twenties, early thirties, well-dressed in designer ripped jeans and a tight, pale blue t-shirt. His toothpaste-commercial teeth are on display in a friendly grin. There's a slim silver bracelet around his wrist that glints in the light as he gestures at the two of them.
"I'm sorry, this is probably totally outrageous but I figure, fortune favors the bold, right?" He takes a breath, smile still in place, then says, "Are you two together? 'Cause, if you are, wow, cute couple! If not," He raises an eyebrow at Jensen, showing even more teeth, and says, "could I get you a drink some time?"
"Oh you can fuck right off," says Jared. Both Jensen and the guy turn to look at him in shock, but Jared finds himself undaunted. It's either letting his mouth run on or doing something absurdly caveman like growling or dragging Jensen off by the hair. "You're trying to buy him a drink purely on the basis that he's hot like burning. And if you think for one second I'm going to let you anywhere near him when you're so goddamn shallow, you're fucking insane." Jared pauses, studies him a second longer, and then adds, "And you've spilled something down your t-shirt. It looks like ketchup. Ha!"
There's a long, stunned silence as Jensen and the guy digest this. Jared slumps over the table, nurses his beer and tries to keep the growl in his throat from getting too loud.
Eventually, Jensen says, "No, we're not together. But I'll pass on the drink, thanks."
After the guy backs off, Jensen sits quietly for another long while. Jared watches the bubbles in his glass drift up to the surface. It's just as well he's a little inebriated, he figures, because otherwise, he could be feeling pretty embarrassed right now.
"You know," says Jensen, "when I'm not being paid for it, I get to choose who I spend time with. You get to vet my clients, not the people I fuck for fun."
Jared tilts his head just enough to look Jensen in the face. "So go over there," he says. "Explain I'm a dumb fuck who don't know what he's saying. I'm sure he'll find it in his heart to forgive you. Somehow."
"You are a dumb fuck," says Jensen equably. His voice drops to a mutter, gaze fixed on the tabletop. "I'm not going over there. I'm here with you, aren't I?"
:::
Jensen has been fidgeting ever since Jared picked him up this afternoon. He started off fidgeting with his tie and his cufflinks, flat old-gold studs that spark against the sharp white cuffs of his shirt. Then he fusses with his hair for a while, flipping the mirror down to tug the gelled strands this way and that. When he moves on to examining his teeth, Jared can't keep his mouth shut any longer.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?"
He's grinning as he says it but Jensen starts guiltily and then glares at him. He snaps the mirror closed and slumps back in his seat, arms folding over his chest. Then he unfolds his arms and checks his sleeves for creases, holding the thin white material up to the rays of sunlight that slant through the windows.
"Jeez!" says Jared. "Seriously, what has gotten in to you?"
Jensen huffs irritably and then gives a jerky shrug.
"This appointment. This guy."
Jared flicks him a concerned look. "You don't like him?"
"I've never met him," says Jensen. "This is his first appointment."
There's a problem there. It's evident from Jensen's tone and his behavior, but Jared's really not seeing it. Eventually, he has to give in and say, "So?"
Jensen huffs again and fidgets some more in his seat, looking petulant and maybe a little uncomfortable. His lips work as he chooses his words, then he carefully says, "I'm not good with new people. I get… I get… a little, well…"
"Shy?" Jared prompts, lips curling into a wide grin. "You get shy? How can you get shy? Oh my God, you're kidding me, right? How can you get shy?"
At Jensen's thoroughly pissed off frown, Jared can't help laughing so hard he thinks he might break something. He laughs until it gets hard to breathe and he thinks maybe he should pull the car over before they crash into something.
"I hear picturing 'em naked helps?" Jared offers in a very shaky voice, using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. And then collapses into laughter again.
"Oh that's funny," says Jensen acidly. "Great. Y'know, I knew there was a way for today to get just a little bit shittier. And you finding this a huge joke, that's… well that's just great. Thanks for that, man."
The abrupt surge of guilt that rushes through Jared, hard and uncomfortable in his chest, effectively drives all the laughter out of him. He sighs and squirms against the sensation of being a huge jerk.
"I just… I just, I don't understand how you can get shy. You regularly have sex with people you don't really know all that well."
"I know what they want!" Jensen protests. "I don't know. I just don't know if… if I'm what he's expecting. If I'm what he wants. Or if I'm gonna make an idiot of myself."
Right then, Jared can only turn and stare at him. Because it's hard to believe that Jensen can actually feel that way. And it hurts Jared in an odd way that he does.
"All right," he says, trying to find something to say that Jensen might listen to. Because really he wants to launch into an impassioned declaration of how impossibly awesome Jensen is and how, by doubting it, he's making Jared feel bad for not having properly convinced him of it by everything he's said and done so far. "Look, you're gorgeous. And he's paying for the privilege of… being with you. You've got nothing to be shy about. He couldn't be with you without giving you a shitload of cash. He's had to buy you because you're too beautiful for him to have a hope in hell with otherwise."
They don't speak again until they've arrived at the hotel and Jared's handing the car keys to the valet.
"That's a pretty fantastic way of looking at what I do," Jensen says, sounding thoughtful.
Jared shrugs like it's nothing but he can't help flushing.
They take the elevator together up to the suite. Jensen is still fidgeting a little and, almost instinctively, Jared reaches out and lays his hand between his shoulder blades, fingers splayed over the dove gray fabric of his jacket. Jensen glances back at him over his shoulder, lashes fluttering as he blinks in surprise. But he doesn't say anything about it and he relaxes with the subtle points of contact between him and Jared.
The client is already waiting for them in the room, twisting round the neck of a bottle of champagne where it rests in a bucket of ice. The crunch of the ice as the glass of the bottle grinds over it is sharp in the air. He looks up as Jensen and Jared come into the room, and Jared's not sure what to make of him.
He's in his forties and the bulk he's carrying was probably pure muscle when he was younger. In fact, he probably used to be pretty hot. Now though? Not so much. The way he holds himself though suggests he hasn't seen that memo. Still carries himself like he's God's finest achievement to date. He's not vain so much as he is sure of what he's owed. And he watches them too closely. His gaze shifts between the two of them, appraising them both with an eager glint in his hooded eyes.
Jensen takes a smooth step forward and the client twitches and his gaze locks on to him.
"Mr Delacroix," he says. There's a slight hesitation as Jensen tries to read whether Delacroix will want to shake his hand or not. He settles for not because Delacroix seems preoccupied with looking him over.
"Oh yes," Delacroix murmurs.
It doesn't take long for Jared to get sick of standing there, watching Delacroix assess Jensen. He clears his throat and smiles politely but a little impatiently when Delacroix's attention finally snaps to him.
"I'll be waiting down in the lobby for Jensen," he says and the meaning is made clear as Jared looks Delacroix in the eye and Delacroix's the first to look away.
Not altogether happy but having nothing that he can put his finger on as unacceptable, Jared takes the elevator down to the lobby and flips his book of Sudoku open. He can't concentrate on it though and ends up watching the people going by and the broad beams of sunlight washing over the marble floor and the vibrant greenery of the tall potted palms. The tip of his pen taps an irregular beat against the empty margin of the puzzle book.
He worries a little about Jensen, wonders how hard he's trying to be everything that Delacroix could want him to be. Prostitutes should aim to please, Jared supposes, but he wonders if the way Jensen tries so hard to please could be why he's apparently so proficient at attracting weirdos and turning people psycho.
His cellphone vibrates against his thigh and Jared pulls it out, looks at it. Jensen, it says. He's on his feet and striding towards the stairs even as he's answering the call.
"You okay?" he says.
"I feel weird," Jensen says, low and mumbling. "I think there was something in the champagne."
"I'm coming," he says, firm and calm, and he bounds up the main hotel staircase.
The last time he went charging up to Jensen's hotel room he was too blind with panic to be able to function properly. It’s different this time. Last time, he was only operating on a suspicion something was wrong. Now he knows there's something wrong. Jensen's called for him. And the sense of purpose, the sense that whatever the problem is, Jensen's called for him and all Jared has to do is get to him, brings a detached, single-mindedness to him. He's not panicking, not all over the place, not stumbling or unable to get the keycard to work. He's going to get Jensen - that's it, that's everything.
When he gets into the hotel room, Jensen's not in sight. There's a champagne glass on its side on the floor, a small puddle of spilled alcohol around it, and Delacroix's banging on the bathroom door, rattling the doorknob. He looks over, wide-eyed and red-faced, as Jared approaches. Whatever the expression is on Jared's face, it's enough to freak out Delacroix. He holds up a hand and tries to back away.
Jared grabs him by the arm, his fingers digging into the fleshiness, and hauls him away from the door.
"No, no! You don’t understand," Delacroix splutters. "I didn’t give him anything dangerous - it's just supposed to relax him! It'll wear off in a couple of hours! I just… I like it when they're all drowsy and quiet, how they move and respond, it's just how I like it!"
Jared's hand is still on Delacroix and the urge to do him some serious harm blossoms red-hot and pulsing in his chest. His fingers flex and Delacroix's voice dribbles away as he stares up into Jared's face. Then sense takes hold of him again and Jared pushes Delacroix over towards the other side of the room, watching him stagger as the force behind it almost knocks Delacroix from his feet.
He picks up Delacroix's jacket and flings it at his face.
"And how d'you like getting your ass kicked? Get the fuck outta here!" When Delacroix goes on staring at him, Jared takes a warning step towards him and barks, "Now!"
Jared keeps his eyes on him until Delacroix has fled from the room, the door banging shut behind him. And in the sudden silence, panic finally creeps in. The ice-smooth determination starts to ebb away because Jared has no idea what state Jensen's and he needs to have him right in front of him now so he can start making it better. He taps on the bathroom door, not trying the doorknob yet because he doesn’t want to spook Jensen.
"Jen? Jen, I'm here. He's gone now. It's just me."
It's silent and Jared holds his breath, straining for the faintest sound that will tell him he's not too late. He puts his hand on the doorknob, the metal slick and cold to the touch. But before he can turn it, it rattles lightly and then the door swings wide and, without it to hold him up, Jensen slumps out onto the floor. Jared's instantly on his knees beside him, arms around him and cradling his face against his palm.
"God, Jen, tell me you're all right… Shit, shit-shit-shit! It's all right, man, I got you. You're gonna be all right."
"Hey. S'quatch."
Jensen's eyes are barely open but they track to Jared's face. His shirt is unbuttoned and his chest is rising and falling only very slowly. Jared heaves a sigh, sending up a prayer of thanks that Jensen is at least conscious and reasonably aware of his surroundings. He readjusts his position so he can get an arm under Jensen's legs and scoop him up against his chest. It takes Jared a slight stumble to adjust to carrying Jensen's weight and he feels Jensen's hand on his wrist, blunt well-manicured nails scrabbling lightly.
"Can fuckin' walk," Jensen says dimly. "Lemme fuckin' walk."
He struggles some more and Jared realises he has a choice of putting him down or dropping him and opts for the less-damaging option. There's a second when Jensen's knees fold beneath him and he lurches towards the ground before Jared catches him again, letting Jensen rest his weight against Jared's bulk while he steadies himself. Jared finds it hard to keep his hands off Jensen when he's this vulnerable and Jared has been so recently anxious about his well-being, which is why it is great all round that Jensen doesn’t shrug the arm off that Jared keeps wrapped around his shoulders. Jared would really have to insist on his arm being there otherwise.
"C'mon," Jared says. "Imma take you outta here. Gonna take care of you. S'all right."
"Shirt," Jensen mumbles. "Buttons."
Jared soothes him and tries to get him towards the door before Jensen starts struggling again and repeats Shirt. Buttons. irritably a few more times. Jared stares at him, ready to try soothing him some more, before Jensen's awkward fumbling with his shirt helps him catch on.
"Aww, c'mon, man," he says, barely believing it. "You're high on who knows what. Now is not the time to worry about being suitably dressed. You get a pass when you've been roofied."
All the same, he does the buttons up on Jensen's shirt, trying to keep Jensen propped up on his shoulder as he does so. He's pretty sure that as he's doing Jensen's buttons, his knuckles skimming Jensen's ribs, Jensen is smelling his hair. The first inhalation makes him want to jerk upright but he catches himself before he can headbutt Jensen. Instead, he tilts his face to look up into Jensen's face. Jensen gives him a doped, serene smile.
"You have the best frickin' hands on the planet," he says, and Jared doesn't think he's ever heard the Texas thicker in Jensen's drawl. "Feel free to put 'em on me anytime."
Jared flushes brilliantly and nods. "Right," he says. "Okay. Let's get you to the ER."
"No way," Jensen protests, even as Jared's urging him towards the door. "Imma be fine. Just take me home. Not goin' to the hospital."
"You're going," Jared tells him. And before Jensen can argue any more, Jared turns him about bodily to look him in the eye. "You called me for help. And I'm going to help. That bastard's put fuck-knows-what in your system and you're going to the hospital. Even if I have to carry you the whole damn way."
Jensen protests all the way down to the car and it's only fortunate that he's not strong enough to raise his voice because they get enough odd looks as it is, what with Jared holding Jensen - barefoot, heavy-lidded and listing - upright as he hurries him out of the hotel.
Despite the way it turns his stomach to think of Delacroix wanting to fuck Jensen like that, helpless and pliant, Jared thinks maybe he was telling the truth about the sedative. He doubts it's harmful in the long-term, not that he's prepared to risk it. He wants Jensen in the hospital and he wants the drug out of his system. Even if it's simply supposed to relax him, the sedative has hit Jensen pretty hard. Jared has to all but lift him into the car when the valet brings it round.
On the drive to the hospital, Jensen sinks down in his seat, his cheek pressed to the window and his knees turned the same way. His eyelids keep drooping closed and his breathing comes deep and languid. Keeping his eyes on the road, Jared has to keep prompting him for some kind of response because the second Jensen slips into unconsciousness is when Jared is going to return to full-panic mode.
He flips his cell to hands-free and calls Sam, waiting impatiently for the call to connect.
"Hi, Jared, what's-" she starts.
"I'm taking Jensen to the ER at Cedars-Sinai," Jared cuts in. His voice is level but he doesn't have the mental reserves for an in-depth conversation about this. "The client drugged him. He's conscious but pretty out of it."
To Jared's relief, all Sam says is, "I'll meet you there."
He ends the call and flicks another glance at Jensen, checking for consciousness. He needn't have worried - Jensen is looking back at him, soft-eyed and his hair ridiculously mussed.
"Y'know, if you think it'd improve our working relationship-" (Jared thinks he said 'working relationship' but it's hard to tell when Jensen's voice is so slurred,) "-I'd be totally fine with getting fucked by you."
Jared's hands tighten abruptly on the steering wheel but he laughs and shakes his head. "Really can't afford you, buddy."
"Oh it'd be on the house," says Jensen, his words a smooth, lazy drawl.
Stalwartly ignoring the rush of blood to his cock, Jared somehow keeps the car on the road and says, "Well that'd be an interesting idea if you weren't making it while hopped up on some crazy-making shit." He's impressed by how casual his voice comes out.
Jensen murmurs something else and Jared can't unscramble it from all the slurring. He glances over at Jensen, intending to get him to repeat it, but Jensen's eyes are closed. He seems to be sleeping, but Jared tastes fear in his mouth, cold and bitter as old metal. He grits his teeth and puts his foot to the floor.
:::
He can’t rouse Jensen. Has to carry him into the crowded ER, bellowing for someone to please help.
"Someone put something in his drink," Jared tells the doctor who comes over. "I don't know what, about half an hour ago, maybe longer. He was just sleepy at first but it's knocked him out."
He should be able to relax a little now he's gotten Jensen here but the jumble of their conversation, all brisk commands and reports, leaves him feeling useless and out of his depth. He watches helplessly as the nurses hustle Jensen's limp body onto a gurney and tries to follow them down the corridor. One of the nurses, a middle-aged woman with steel-gray hair, puts a hand up to stop him.
"You family?" she says.
"No," says Jared, peering round her to where he can see the gurney disappearing into one of the rooms, lost in the bustle of the medical staff around it. "No, just a friend."
"Then you're gonna have to stay out here," she says. "C'mon, I'll show you where you can wait. Don't worry, we'll take good care of your friend."
The strength and will to fight has gone. Jared feels drained and sick with the fading adrenaline. He lets her shepherd him to a chair and hunches forwards, forearms resting on his thighs, as he stares blankly at the fresh, mint-green walls and gets lost in the constant clamor of the ER around him. Virtually every time a nurse or doctor walks by, Jared perks up in anticipation of news of Jensen. But Sam arrives almost an hour later and Jared still hasn't heard anything since he brought Jensen in.
Her suit is peacock blue, Jared notes with detached interest. She spots him and marches straight over. She's pale beneath her tan and a little out of breath. Jared guesses she hurried to get here. She gives him a quick, motherly hug and then sits down next to him. She doesn't prompt him, simply waits for him to speak even though she's clearly on edge, hands an anxious little knot in her lap.
"Delacroix drugged him," Jared says eventually. "Some kind of a kink thing he's got going. Jensen locked himself in the bathroom and called me. I threw Delacroix out and brought Jen straight here."
"And Delacroix?" Sam says, dark eyes fixed on Jared's face. "Did you hurt him?"
"Worried I've scared off a paying customer?" Jared snaps and curls his lips back in a bitter smirk.
"Don’t you get punchy with me, Jared," Sam snaps right back at him. "You think we can afford to have Delacroix go running to the police? You think Jensen would appreciate you getting him brought up on prostitution charges?"
The enormity of the situation can't quite penetrate beyond the fact Sam's apparently concerned for the safety of a man who wanted to fuck Jensen in a fairly comatose state. Jared tries to care, rationally he knows he should but it's too hard to get his brain past the fact Delacroix fed Jensen God knows what, simply for his own fucked up kink. He tries taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
"I didn’t hurt him," he says, as cool as possible. "I did exactly what you hired me to do: I protected Jensen. I got Delacroix out of the room because Jensen wasn't coming out of the bathroom while he was still there. I grabbed his arm and I shouted at him. I didn't punch him in the jaw like he fucking deserved."
Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Finally she nods and stands up, brushing down the skirt of her suit.
"I'm gonna go find someone to talk to. See if someone won't tell me how he is." She closes her eyes for a second, looking tired and washed-out. "See if I can't make sure they're not calling the cops."
Jared watches her go and then goes back to staring at the wall.
:::
Turns out, Delacroix wasn't lying. He'd used a pretty heavy-duty sedative but nothing serious. The doctor who comes to talk to Sam and Jared even seems a little disgruntled that Jensen had been brought in and taken up valuable time and resources in the ER.
"Of course you couldn't know," she says. "But it'll be out of his system in no time at all." She flashes a professional smile and adds, "Just tell him to watch his drinks a little more carefully in future."
All of the bleak, hollow worry that had been sitting on Jared right up until then disappears, as lightly and completely as if he'd never felt it. Jensen's going to be fine. He was never in any serious danger and if Jared ever sees Delacroix again he's still going to kick his ass from here to New York.
They collect Jensen and before Jared can even get there, Sam is all over him, going up on her toes to catch his face and turn it this way and that to better examine him. Jensen's unsteady on his feet and groggy but very much more himself. Jared wonders how much of their conversation earlier Jensen remembers and sincerely hopes Jensen's going to put it down as a drug-induced delusion. Jared will certainly deny all knowledge of it if asked. He's not going to humiliate Jensen with his altered-states rambling.
"Oh, baby," Sam coos, "what are you tryin' to do to me? Tryin' to turn my hair gray?"
"Tryin' to put you out of business," Jensen says with a hint of a smile.
"Now I don't wanna say I told you so," says Sam, "but are you gonna admit now that hiring Jared was a good idea?"
Jensen glances over at Jared and takes a moment before shrugging. "Ah, I could have handled it. Would'a just stayed in the bathroom and slept it off." But he catches Jared's eye as he says it and Jared's stomach gives an interesting flutter.
"I don't think you should be on your own tonight," Sam says, slipping her arm through Jensen's to escort him over to the car. Jared straightens up, wetting his lips to get the words out right to offer to sleep on Jensen's couch - or, y'know, in his bed if Jen would prefer it. But before he can, Sam says, "You're coming home with me tonight."
Jensen snickers and says, "Knew you'd give in to my rugged charms eventually, Ferris."
"Darling," she shoots back, coyly flattering her lashes at him, "if you can get it up tonight, after the amount of sedative you've been given, I'll take your clients for the next month."
"I'm not taking that bet on the grounds my clients would never forgive me," says Jensen nobly, after a moment's contemplation.
Jared's just swinging the rear car door open for Jensen when his cellphone goes again. "You get that, honey," says Sam. "I'll help Jensen. " Jared takes a step back to answer the call as Sam helps Jensen into the back and walks around to take the front passenger seat.
It's Liz, the producer on the Seraphim project. Jared's heart leaps into his throat. It's shaping up to be a pretty exhausting day. Jared's gonna be sleeping for a week.
"We've done some thinking, Jared," she says, "and we'd very much like you to come on board as Azrael. This is all pending contract and legal talk but… we want you for our fallen angel, baby!"
"Oh," says Jared. "Wow."
Jensen is curled up in the back seat of the SUV and Sam's leaning back over to try to flatten the absurd spikes his hair's gone in to. If Jared hadn't been there today, Jensen would have had no one to help him. Delacroix would have eventually got him out of the bathroom when the drug knocked him out. And Jensen would have come to later on, fucked and disoriented and on his own.
And even if Sam hires someone in Jared's place, they're not going to care like Jared does. They're not going to be able to make Jensen laugh and take his mind off things when he's getting shy and they won't think to make sure he gets a decent meal after his last appointment of the day.
He frowns and wets his lips, barely able to comprehend that he's actually doing this. And he's still trying to come to terms with it in his head when he says, "Uh, thanks but… something's come up and… I'm sorry. I can't take the part. But thank you so much for considering me."
There's a second of stunned silence and then Liz says, "Are you sure I can't get you to reconsider? The network's really behind this one. I think it's going to be great and you really stood out from the rest."
"I'm sorry, no," says Jared. "I can't take the role."
"Well," Liz says. "Can't say I don't think you're crazy for turning this one down but you seem to have made up your mind."
"I have," says Jared. "But thank you."
After Liz ends the call, Jared stands for a second, fingertips resting against the SUV's hood. The sun is setting, a pink smudge in a yellow and orange sky. A warm breeze stirs his hair and washes over his skin. Then he climbs in behind the wheel and says, "I didn't get the part. Seraphim, they turned me down."
"God, Jay," Jensen says, "I'm sorry. But it's their loss, right? If they don't see how awesome you would have been on their show, then you don't wanna be on it anyway, yeah?"
"Yeah," says Jared, and turns the key in the ignition.
:::
Something very significant has changed. At first, Jared thought it was simply turning down the part. Which was actually not a small thing at all. That was an opportunity to step into the life he's been wanting for years, and he turned it down in order to stay close to Jensen. And he's staying close to Jensen with the expectation of nothing beyond friendship. Maybe Jensen will want more from him one day, maybe he won't - Jared's fine either way. It's not some pathetic unrequited love deal. It's that he's perfectly content just to spend time with Jensen like this.
But that suggests something else to Jared and it gnaws at him until he works up the nerve to do the right thing.
So he calls Sandy up and takes her out to dinner. Halfway through his braised beef in red wine, he stops just to look at her over the table. She's beautiful and bright and just about the most awesome girl he's ever met. Her dark hair hangs loose and fragrant around her shoulders and the pale pink of her dress emphasises her caramel tan.
She looks up, a forkful of her Caesar salad halfway towards her mouth. A curious smile tugs at her lips and she raises an eyebrow.
"What's that look for?" she says.
"Nothing," says Jared, flushing and looking out of the vast window at the shadowy shape of the palm trees against the star-scattered sky.
"No," says Sandy, "that look means something. Plus, you still have food on your plate, which definitely means you're not all right."
Jared had had no intention of having this conversation in the restaurant. He thinks the most tactful place to talk about this kind of thing is not a public place. Maybe when he was dropping her back home. Because this is going to be awkward and he doesn't want to hurt her, but it has to be done.
But he can't see a way out of this without lying to her right now. So he takes a deep breath and crumples his white linen napkin.
"Sandy, I think you're awesome and I really really don't want to hurt you. But… I'm not in love with you. And you deserve to know that now. In fact, I probably should have realised sooner and not wasted your time and-"
"Oh baby," Sandy says, looking at him with deep sympathy and affection. "Of course you're not in love with me. Did you really think you might be? Because… no. I know you're not. And I'm not in love with you. But… I do think you're a fantastic friend to have. Which is why you haven't been wasting my time."
He blinks at her. "You're not at all surprised," he says at last. "How long have you known?"
"Uh…" She counts on her fingers then gives him a bright smile and says, "About four months."
"And you couldn't have told me?" Jared demands. "This is something I should have known!"
"You seemed confused enough as it was. So, anyway, now that you know…" She props her chin up in her hand leans in, her tone dropping to something conspiratorial. "What's her name?"
"His," says Jared. Then adds, "But there's no one."
Sandy raises an eyebrow then laughs and reaches across the table to pinch Jared's cheek. "Oh honey, still so confused?"
:::
With Smallville on hiatus, Tom and Mike are down from Vancouver and back in town. Chad doesn't even give them an evening to settle back in before he drags them out to get drunk. He is also shameless about attempting to use any connections they might have in the industry to get himself acting work.
"So I hear you're a pimp now," says Mike when he sees Jared. He kicks a chair out for him at the table and pushes a bottle of beer at him. "How's that working out?"
Tom smacks him in the arm and then attempts to elbow him away from the table.
"Dude, you gotta talk some sense into him," says Chad. "He's totally in love with his ho. And doing nothing about getting his dick in him, except sniff around behind him and bitch about his johns."
Jared launches himself at Chad and grabs him in a headlock, and the whole table almost goes over with the way Chad struggles to escape and Jared grimly hangs on to him, except Tom grabs it and holds it down. When Jared finally lets him loose, Chad is pink-cheeked and scruffy-haired. He glowers up at Jared and spreads his hands in a what?! gesture.
"Do I lie? Or am I telling God's own fucking truth, Jay?"
"I'm lost," says Mike. "He's a prostitute. He has sex for money, right? Don't you have money?"
"Probably not enough," Tom says, then he looks Jared in the eye with a faintly amused grin. "Am I right?"
"Oh Jenny's luxury goods," says Chad with an obnoxious drawl to his voice.
Mike looks at Jared for clarification, still looking bemused but enjoying Jared's embarrassed squirming. "Jenny? Oh wow! Are you pimp to a transsexual ho? That's awesome!"
"Jensen," Jared cuts in. "His name is Jensen."
"Jensen?" says Tom. He puts his bottle down and cocks his head at Jared. Instantly, his tone catches everyone's attention, which he doesn't appear entirely comfortable about, but he goes on looking to Jared. "Jensen Ackles? That's who you're working with?"
"You know him?" Mike says. He's leaning right in now, apparently enjoying himself immensely. Not only is Jared looking awkward, Chad's been in a headlock and had to fight his way out of it, and now Tom looks to be involved as well; Mike's having an awesome night.
Tom shrugs and peels the label off his beer bottle, flicking the shreds of paper across the tabletop. "Vaguely." He looks back at Jared and shakes his head. "I do definitely know, though, that he's not the kind of guy to appreciate you going all schmoopy-eyed at him."
"I haven't been goin' all 'schmoopy-eyed' at him," Jared protests. Then he smacks Chad upside the head and gestures in Tom and Mike's general direction. "See the shit you've started now? For serious, Chad, Imma throttle you one of these days you don't stop running your fucking mouth off, sayin' all this shit."
Mike leans back in his chair, hands resting loose on his thighs, and looks at Tom, narrow-eyed but a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. "So how'd you know him then?"
Jared shoots him a nervous glance because he's not sure if anyone else at the table is aware that Tom was how Jared got into this in the first place. But Tom just shrugs and doesn't seem bothered.
"Everyone knows everyone in L.A., don't they?"
And the conversation rolls on eventually to better things to keep Chad and Mike entertained. It's not until later, when Jared stumbles into the restrooms with Tom, that Tom looks at him and says, "I really hope you know what you're doing. With Jensen, I mean. 'Cause it's not exactly easy being in a relationship with someone who's regularly fucking at least five other people a week. You think you can make do with just… loving and being loved but-"
"Moulin Rouge is off my approved viewing list," Jared breaks in. "Same as Pretty Woman."
Tom looks at him a second, frustrated and concerned. Then he says, "Jared, you're a nice guy and I don't wanna see-"
"Jensen's a nice guy too," Jared interrupts.
"Yes, he is," says Tom. "Don't get me wrong, I like Jensen. I like him very much. But… it's not him I'm worried about. He can take care of himself."
"And I can't?" Jared laughs. "'Cause, y'know, Sam seems to think that I can take care of myself and take care of Jensen." He sees Tom start to try again and shakes his head, still grinning. "Tom, I get where you're coming from, I do. But I'm a big boy, I can handle it. And y'know, there's not even anything like that going on."
Tom doesn't look convinced.
:::
Jensen hasn't wanted to talk about Delacroix at all. Jared doesn't exactly blame him and he guesses there's not much to say, but he desperately wants Jensen to talk about it, just so Jared can stop worrying that Jensen's brooding on it. Jared hasn't stopped being angry about it and if nothing else, he'd like to be able to vent that rage at someone who understands.
Honestly, Jared doesn't like how Jensen has apparently taken the incident in his stride, as just an eventful day at the office. And Jensen treats him with mild confusion for expecting some kind of emotional fallout.
On the way up to the hotel suite - and it's even in the same goddamn hotel - Jared says, "Now, if you panic, or you need me to come up, for any reason at all, just gimme a call and I'll be right there."
Jensen nods but shoots him an amused, doubtful look. "Good to know."
"Anything at all," Jared reiterates. "If you just feel like you want to take some time away-"
"No, I'm good." As Jared goes on staring at him in unhappy disbelief, Jensen gives him a reassuring smile. "Seriously, man. I'm good."
Crazily, Jensen does actually seem to be telling the truth, whether Jared thinks he should be or not. Unfortunately he doesn't get time to prod him into finally showing some of the emotions Jared thinks he should be because they're at the room.
And it's Quentin. Jared stumbles to a halt at the sight of him and his eyes go wide. This has the potential to be all kinds of bad.
Quentin's sitting on the end of the bed, fiddling with his BlackBerry, but he stands up to greet them as they come into the room. He beams at Jared and Jared tries to give a small shake of his head to communicate a dear-God-please-do-not-say-anything vibe. Which Quentin obviously doesn't catch.
"I'm hearing good things about you and Seraphim, kid!" Quentin says, grabbing Jared's hand and pumping it vigorously.
Jared tries to free his hand while looking over to catch Jensen's reaction to this. Jensen doesn't look happy. "Uh no," he says. "No, they thought about me, but decided I wasn't right for the role."
Quentin frowns and Jared desperately tries to think of something else to fill the silence before he can say anything else and make it worse. "Are you sure?" says Quentin. "Because I spoke to Liz and Jed straight after the auditions and they were full of love for you."
"Must have changed their mind," says Jared, uncomfortably aware of Jensen's blank-eyed gaze on him.
"Huh," says Jensen in a flat voice. "Must have." Then, lips pursed and one eyebrow raised, he looks to Jared, clearly waiting for him to leave.
Quentin's gaze darts between them, mouth open as if to speak and Jared is past caring now because he's pretty sure the damage is done.
:::
Any hope Jared might have had that Jensen would have calmed down a little by the time Quentin was finished with him evaporates the second he sees Jensen stalking towards him across the hotel lobby.
Incandescent with rage always seemed like a stupid phrase to Jared right up until this moment. Fucking pissed off usually covered it pretty much. And yeah, fucking pissed off really does apply to Jensen, but Jared can see how the whole incandescent with rage would work too. If Jared stares hard enough, he's sure he's actually going to be able to see the waves of fury rolling off Jensen.
It's probably kind of damaged of Jared to think Jensen is exceptionally hot when he's looking more than a little homicidal, and all of it's directed at him.
"You got the part, didn't you?" Jensen hisses at him. He catches Jared's shoulder and drags him upright so he can prod a finger into Jared's breastbone. "You got the fucking part, didn't you?"
"Are you gonna prod me again if I say yes?" Jared says, unable to help the whine in his voice as he rubs the sore patch.
"Imma slaughter you!" Jensen snarls. He shakes his head and wheels about, staring at the hotel entrance, all gleaming, sun-bright glass. Jared can see his shoulders rise and fall as he heaves in breath. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Jared? What the fuck is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem," he says simply. "Yeah, they offered me the role. I decided to turn it down. I didn't want to take it. And I'm not gonna feel guilty about it simply because you think I should'a taken it. It's my life."
Jensen turns back to look at him, still - yes - incandescent. "And you're fucking it up."
Jared shrugs and brushes past Jensen as he moves to leave. But Jensen's fingers curl about his wrist and stop him. When he looks back at Jensen, the fury's been replaced with something he can't quite recognise. There's a stillness about him, a watchfulness centered entirely on Jared. There are people all around them but Jared barely registers them over his acute awareness of Jensen's fingers on his skin.
Finally, sure that Jared isn't going to try to leave again, Jensen lets his hand drop. And Jared's pulse beats all the harder for no longer having Jensen's fingertips pressed to it.
"Jen?" Jared says softly. "I know you were trying to help me but-"
Jensen's tongue flickers pink and wet over his lips and then he says, cutting Jared clean off, "Do you need to get it out of your system? Do you need to know what it is they're all paying for? 'Cause if that's why you're hanging around, c'mon, let's get to it and then you can go back to your life and I can move on."
When Jared opens his mouth to answer, all that comes out is a huff of breath. Jensen slaps him lightly in the chest and says, "C'mon, cowboy, let's go. Imma give you the works, won't cost you a dime."
Jared takes a smooth step back and pastes on a smile.
"You vain little bastard. Fuck you, and fuck your generous offer."
Right now, Jared is totally incandescent.
:::
They don't talk in the car. Jared is still enraged and it's difficult to tell from the taut lines of Jensen's body and the tight set of his face whether he's still pissed off or if he's humiliated or what. At first, Jared doesn't care either way but gradually he starts to hate the silence. He keeps taking a breath to say something and he's pretty sure Jensen goes very still each time he does. And then Jared doesn't know what to say and Jensen lapses back into sulking or brooding or something.
Finally, without bothering to draw breath because that gives him time to think, Jared blurts out, "I don't wanna be like them. I don't want you thinking I'm like them. And it's kinda mean of you to act like you think the only reason I'm sticking with you is 'cause I wanna fuck you."
It takes Jensen a while to answer and he doesn't look away from the window when he does. "You wouldn't even know how to be like them, Jared. It's just… you're so freaking young. And you're wasting opportunities I would'a killed for. Just… you gotta get outta this, man. Seriously."
He might have gone on to say more - not that there's really anything he could say to change Jared's mind - but his cellphone starts to hum. A brief conversation follows that Jared can just about string together from the one side of it he hears: Sam wants them both in the office. Right away. It feels weirdly like being summoned to the Principal's office and Jared runs a quick catalogue in his head of the things he might have done wrong recently. Delacroix is at the top of the list.
"Any idea what she wants?" Jared says, flicking a glance at Jensen, who's turning his cell over and over between his palms.
Jensen gives a single shake of his head and then flashes Jared a small, rueful smile. "Let's just assume crash positions, yeah?"
:::
At the office, Mel has two cups of strong coffee waiting for them. Jensen accepts a cup from her extremely gratefully, then jerks his head towards Sam's door and says, "So? What are we doing here?"
Sneaking a peek at Sam's door herself, as if expecting Sam to come bursting through at any minute, Mel shrugs and wrinkles her nose thoughtfully.
"Carl Lowes came in about two hours ago," Mel says. "He and Sam have been shut up in a meeting ever since." She raises her eyebrows at Jensen, mock-stern. "You been playing nicely with the man, Jen?"
"If I've pissed him off," says Jensen, "then it's news to me."
"He's permanently pissed off with me," Jared says. He has a sinking feeling that this is not quite so much about Jensen as it is him. He's not sure why but Carl has never warmed to him, always treats him as a necessary inconvenience to be sent on his way as swiftly as possible so Carl can have his time alone with Jensen.
"Oh he's like that with me," says Mel, and Jared feels mildly better because Mel is a sweetheart and if Carl doesn't like her than Jared never stood a chance.
Jensen takes a loud slurp of his coffee and smirks. "Don't know what you mean. He's a real teddy bear."
"I'm guessing you probably see a different side than I do," says Jared, patting him indulgently on the arm. "Probably lots of different sides."
The door opens then and Sam's standing there, a strained smile on her face. Behind her, through the doorway, Jared can see Carl sitting in front of her desk. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't look happy. The atmosphere instantly deadens.
"Jensen, Jared, could you step in here?" says Sam.
As Jensen steps past her into the office, she makes eye contact with him, holding his gaze for a second. Jared doesn't know what exactly is being communicated, only that it means trouble. Carl rises to his feet when he sees Jensen and is abruptly all smiles - and hands. Jared frowns at the way he grabs one of Jensen's hands in both of his, one gripping his fingers and the other clasping his wrist.
Jensen greets him with quiet grace and then takes a chair over the other side of the room. Finally tearing his eyes away from Jensen, Carl sees Jared coming into the room.
"What's he doing here?" he demands, looking at Sam. "This is nothing to do with him. I want him to leave."
"Jared's involved, Carl," says Sam, calm and sweet.
She gestures to him to take a seat and Jared chooses one that will put him directly in Carl's path to Jensen. Carl pointedly doesn't look at him but he fumes and his foot twitches irritably, designer brown leather shoe bobbing up and down.
Sam sinks behind her desk, spreads her hands out on the smooth surface and summons up a smile that encompasses them all.
"Okay. So, let's bring everyone up to speed." She licks her lips and then says, "Carl's been having some trouble adjusting to your presence, Jared. He understands the role you play and he accepts that. However, he felt that seeing as he's enjoyed a long and untroubled relationship with Jensen, he should be entitled to a different level of trust."
Jared immediately sits straighter in his chair. Carl's foot stops twitching for a second and then starts up again, more frenetic than ever.
"I felt that wasn't something I could accommodate," says Sam, and Jared thinks about relaxing until her next words make that impossible. "And so Carl suggested that, if Jensen's situation was potentially so risky, perhaps Jensen would consider limiting his services exclusively to him."
Carl leans forward in his chair and tries to catch Jensen's eye. But Jensen is looking directly at Sam and his elegant sprawl has tightened to something much sharper.
"How would that work?" he asks Sam.
"You wouldn't be on this agency's books anymore. It would be an arrangement between you and Carl."
"I would take care of everything," Carl says, his voice sincere and eager. "I would handle your accommodation, your clothes, any expense. You wouldn't have to let any of those men ever touch you again. All I would expect is for us to…" He smiles and the intimacy it suggests is entirely inappropriate for the public setting. "All I'd expect is for you to go on loving me."
There's a long uncomfortable silence. Jensen looks horrified and Carl is apparently oblivious to that because he goes on smiling at him in that creepy, adoring way. It's about time for Sam to say something - preferably a loud fuck off to Carl - but her gaze is fixed on the surface of her desk, distancing herself from the situation.
So Jared clears his throat and looks straight at Carl and says, "You don't expect him to decide right now, do you? Something like this, he'll need time to think over, right?" He glances at Jensen, sees him still looking horrified, then looks back at Carl. "He's heard you out. But you get that it's a big decision for him?"
"I'm not-" Jensen starts, but he breaks off and shakes his head, falling totally silent again.
"I don't know how you think this involves you, young man," Carl says to Jared. And it's more than just not warming to him. Jared would swear up and down that Carl's looking at him with honest-to-God hatred in his eyes. "You're part of the problem. Always hanging around him. Looking at him."
Jensen stands up abruptly and takes a breath. He smiles at Carl and Jared would think it was genuine except for the way it doesn't reach his eyes. It seems enough to convince Carl though and he beams back at him.
"Jared's right," Jensen says, still smiling. "This is something I really need to think about. But I definitely will think about it. Right now, I've gotta get home and… well, think." He'd already edging towards the door and reaches it by the time he finishes talking. He flashes Jared a quick, pleading look. "Time to go."
Carl's smile is wavering, Jensen is reaching for the door handle and Jared gets the sudden impression of a crazy man being humored in case he turns out to be crazy, dangerous man.
They manage to escape to the garage and move quickly towards the SUV. Neither of them have spoken and Jared's not sure whether he wants to WTF?! or belly-laugh. Maybe both. From the look on Jensen's face, Jared suspects he may be in need of a bellyful of beer. He won't deny being deeply relieved that Jensen apparently has no intention of agreeing to Carl's proposition.
"Still, 'kept boy'… that's gotta be a step up from 'prostitute'," Jared says. "Classier, I think."
"You? Are out of your mind," Jensen says. He looks at Jared and gives a shaky laugh. "Well, at least I know I got options, right? Exciting options."
"Foregone conclusion, my ass," says Jared. He pats Jensen playfully on the cheek, laughing as Jensen tries to bat him away. "Should'a just held out longer, should'a been more ambitious - could'a gone straight for being a rich man's bed-buddy."
"Jensen?" They both wheel around and see Carl heading towards them. His lips curl back in a sneer as he sees Jared's hand hovering over Jensen's face. "I knew you were trying to take him away from me. I knew it. Everyone said you were just there to drive him around, but I knew."
"Get in the car," Jared says, keeping his eyes on Carl. When Jensen doesn't move, he flashes him an exasperated look. "Jensen, get in the car, I'll take care of this."
"Fuck that shit," Jensen snaps at him and he moves to stand beside him. "Don't need you protecting me, Padalecki." He rolls his shoulders then looks at Carl, who's still got a death-glare going at Jared. "Look, Carl, I'm really flattered by your offer. But I'm happy with the way things are. So it's gonna have to be a 'no'. Sorry."
Slowly, Carl's gaze shifts to Jensen, and Jared desperately wants to move in front of him. Carl blinks at him and then shakes his head and smiles. Jared hates that smile. The very sight of it makes him frown.
"Maybe I didn't explain it properly," Carl says. "You wouldn't have to worry about money. Or those other people making you do those disgusting things. You'd be safe and protected and loved."
Jensen doesn't hesitate. "It's still 'no'."
Carl takes a step towards them and Jared gives in to instinct then and steps in front of Jensen. He raises his hands in what he hopes comes across as soothing but he's more interested in being able to make a grab for Carl before he can reach Jensen.
"You did this, didn't you?" Carl says to Jared. "You're trying to take him away from me. I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you."
"Jared hasn't done anything. This has nothing to do with Jared," Jensen says. "C'mon, Carl, things are fine as they are. Aren't we having fun?" He moves past Jared and reaches out to Carl, tidies up the knot of his tie. "C'mon, baby, don't spoil a good thing."
Carl puts his hands over Jensen's and leans in to kiss him. Jensen lets him, lips brushing Carl's briefly, before he gently disentangles himself.
Carl's fingers twitch fretfully as he has to let him go.
"So, can we drop the idea?" Jensen says. "Just… carry on as we were?" His tone is low and cajoling and Jared wonders why Carl can't hear how very fake it is. And, rather smugly, concludes that it's because Carl doesn't know him nearly half as well as Jared does.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, Carl nods and both Jared and Jensen relax. Then Carl looks to Jared again and his jaw snaps taut. "But I don't want you having anything to do with him," he tells Jensen, still scowling at Jared. "I don't trust him. And he should remember that I am not someone he wants to cross."
"He'll remember," Jensen says soothingly. He looks at Jared and Jared nods in earnest agreement. "He's just going to drive me home and then-"
"I could drive you home," Carl says.
"No, that's fine, thanks," says Jensen and he's closing the distance between him and the Porsche now. Jared stays where he is, which just happens to be in Carl's way of Jensen. Jensen opens the door and gives Carl another smile.
Once he hears Jensen's door slam shut, Jared backs around to his own door and climbs in. They don’t talk, both still tense and watching Carl, who's staring back at them, forlorn and frustrated in the dull mint glow of the garage's lighting.
Jared starts the car up and makes a quick getaway, still keeping an eye on Carl's receding figure in the rear view mirror. Beside him, Jensen pulls out his cellphone and calls Sam.
"Hey, change of plans," Jensen says. "Take Carl off the books. I'm not taking any more appointments with him. Make it sweet, if you can. But I'm not shifting on this."
Jared approves vigorously - but silently - of this development. Because otherwise, he just knows he'd have ended up with his blood pressure going sky-high each time Jensen was alone in a room with Carl. Much better to cut Carl off. Even if he's not sure Carl's going to feel the same way. And then he has to start worrying about that.
"Are you sure he's not gonna go even crazier without his weekly fix?" he says, once Jensen's ended the call.
"Not completely," Jensen says airily. He shrugs at the concerned look Jared gives him. "What are my options here really? Go on seeing him, when he's already turning into a whackjob? Nah, much better to cut him off now. I'll bet you good money that in six months he'll be thinking of me as a manipulative whore and thinking himself lucky I didn't agree to it."
"How do you do it?" says Jared. "How do you manage to find that bit of someone that's completely unstable?" He pauses and frowns. "And how come it hasn't worked on me?"
Jensen laughs, short and rueful. He shakes his head. "Jay, you turned down the lead role on a TV show in order to go on driving me around town. Who says it hasn't worked?"
part six