FIC | RPS < J2 < Gimme Danger < 04/05
Title: Gimme Danger
Fandom: RPS - Actors
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki
Rating: NC17
Warnings: AU, language, slash, sexual content, bottom!Jared, see note.
Status: Complete
Words: 5,145
Summary: Jared Padalecki -- professional skater: talented, good-looking, insufferably arrogant. Jensen Ackles, writer for Transworld Skateboarding magazine, isn't to happy when he has to interview the one and only Jared, who thinks he's God's gift to the skate world. And leave it to Jensen to be attracted to someone he hates. But will he learn that it's all just a front? What's the reason for Jared's cockiness and can Jensen learn to live with it?
Note: All information at the masterpost.
Previous Chapters:
{ MASTERPOST}
GIMME DANGER
f o u r
"I know you're probably on your way to work right now, but I just had to call and leave you a message. I'm real sorry for not calling today...well, by the time you get this message, it'll be yesterday. I really have no excuse. But I'm calling now, and I want to get together tomorrow -- er, tonight. Give me a call back later."
Jensen smiled as he listened to the voicemail, hanging up his cell phone as he walked to work from the bus stop. He'd left Jared on Sunday afternoon, and hadn't heard from him until Tuesday morning, but it was nice to know he hadn't been forgotten. Nice to know Jared hadn't found some Van Nuys hottie at the party to shack up with.
Shoving the phone into his pocket, he made a mental note to call Jared later on in the day, when he wasn't afraid of waking the pro-skater up. He pushed open the doors of the office building, and made his way to the elevator, a new bounce in his step.
Because the bus was always so early, Jensen was the first to arrive at the Transworld office that day. He unlocked the door of the main office, slipping inside, and he flipped the light switch to illuminate the whole room. He glanced at his watch -- the others would probably start to arrive in a little over five minutes, Jeff being the first, so he decided he'd just sit at his desk until they did.
And then he heard it.
The door of Jeff's office was cracked just slightly, though the room seemed to be dark inside. What Jensen had heard had sounded like a muffled curse, followed by a thump of sorts. Confusion wasn't nearly a strong enough word for what furrowed Jensen's brow.
He moved silently towards the door, unable to come up with any idea as to what might be going on in the room. Were they being robbed? Why on earth would someone want to steal from Jeff's office? What the hell would they steal anyway? There wasn't any kind of logical explanation for what might be going on, so Jensen figured he had the right to find out.
He hesitated, then pushed the door open and reached for the light switch.
For what felt like a very long moment, he had to wonder if he'd really woken up at all that day -- surely he must've still been dreaming. Chad was bent over Jeff's desk, Jeff behind him, and the two mirrored Jensen's shocked expression. It was like a trainwreck for Jensen, he just couldn't bring himself to look away from the scene.
"Jesus," he said, finally blinking himself out of his stupor. "I'm sorry -- I didn't --" he stumbled for anything that might sound about right. "Morning guys."
"Jensen."
He flicked the light switch again, turning it off, and then pulled the door shut all the way. Feeling both embarrassed and still completely surprised, he started for his desk. It definitely explained why Jeff always called Chad into his office, and Jensen couldn't believe he'd never figured it out himself before.
He heard the office door open and close again, and he turned to see a very flustered-looking Chad, gaze fixed on the floor as he fumbled to right his belt and buckle it.
"Jensen," he said again, "It's not what it looks like."
"You're screwing the boss!" Jensen exclaimed in a low tone, almost a whisper.
Chad paused, then started over. "Okay, it is what it looks like," he said. "But it doesn't mean anything. We just...have sex sometimes."
"Isn't he married?" Jensen asked, not knowing whether or not to be sickened -- truth be told, it'd actually been a rather hot sight. One he wished he could get out of his head.
"No!" Chad answered quickly, then paused. "Well, he's going through the divorce now."
"Jesus Christ, Chad," Jensen said.
"Don't think any less of me, Jen," Chad said. "Like I said, it doesn't mean anything. And it's not for the reasons you might think -- we just like having sex with each other."
"What do you think the others would think if they knew?" Jensen asked. "That you were sleeping your way to the top?"
"But it ain't like that!" Chad exclaimed, "Or else, I'd be the one getting interviews with Padalecki or something. In fact, it's like I'm sleeping myself to the bottom, Jeff's so damn paranoid."
"All those times Jeff called you into his office?" Jensen asked.
Chad thought for a second. "Ninety percent of the time," he said slowly.
"Oh my God." Jensen sat down in his chair, running his fingers through his hair.
A heavy silence blanketed them, and Chad shifted awkwardly on his feet, fidgeting nervously. Jensen kept glancing around him, but the door to Jeff's office remained closed. Finally, Chad spoke again.
"Please tell me what you're thinking, Jensen."
"I'm thinking I need a moment to collect myself," he said. "I'm just...surprised is all. I had no idea."
"You can't tell anyone," Chad said. "Please, don't tell anyone."
"Of course I won't," Jensen said. He paused for a moment or two, and the initial shock started to fade. He glanced up at Chad. "Why didn't you tell me though? It would've been nice to have a little warning."
"Jeff didn't want me to tell anyone," Chad said, "For exactly what you said -- he didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression."
"But I'm your best friend," Jensen said.
"I know, and I'm sorry," Chad said, looking and sounding as genuine as anyone could.
Something suddenly struck Jensen, and he lowered his gaze. He took a deep breath, and shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "I haven't exactly been too honest with you either, come to think of it."
When he glanced back up at Chad, Chad had furrowed his brows. The other man crossed his arms, a confused expression on his face.
"With what?" he asked.
"The guy I've been going out with," Jensen said. "I never told you 'cause I thought you wouldn't believe me."
Chad smirked. "It's not Bam Margera, is it?"
Jensen laughed before he could stop himself, and after a second, Chad joined in. The tension in the room seemed to fade instantly, but Jensen still didn't know how he was going to tell Chad about Jared. A silence seemed to stretch on for hours, when it was really only one or two minutes.
"It's uh...it's Jared...Padalecki."
Chad's eyebrows raised, though his expression remained relatively blank for a long moment. He stared hard at Jensen, trying to read him it seemed, and Jensen kept his face neutral. Finally Chad blinked.
"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked.
"I was serious about Bam, and you never believed me," Jensen said with a nervous smile. "But yeah. That day when everyone got around to reading my article, when I told you my sister had called. It'd actually been Jared, asking me to dinner."
"No way."
Jensen nodded slowly. Chad studied him again, but after a while, he smiled.
"Then it seems we both have secrets we have to keep," he said. "You don't tell mine, I won't tell yours."
Jensen laughed. "Deal," he said.
In a move they'd started when they first met, Jensen and Chad touched their knuckles together like a pair of high school boys. They were still grinning at each other when the door to Jeff's office finally opened, and Jeff appeared, obviously chagrined, but holding together as much pride as he possibly could.
"Jensen," he said shortly, "Chad -- we need to talk."
"He's cool, boss," Chad said. "He'll take it to his grave."
Jeff was even more embarrassed, it seemed, that Chad was speaking about it so freely, and he cleared his throat. "Well, uh, yes," he said. "Ackles," back to last names, "I still need to talk to you -- got more information about the Pedlow thing."
It was strangely nice to have told someone about Jared -- Jensen had been a lot more excited about it than he'd thought, and voicing it aloud gave him a weird kind of butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling. Also, now that he wasn't so completely flabbergasted at what he'd seen, it was pretty cool knowing one of his boss' deepest secrets. Jensen was going to have to fight the urge not to joke around with Jeff about blackmailing him someday.
Throwing a grin at Chad, Jensen climbed to his feet to learn more about his new assignment.
* * *
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
Jensen hadn't been able to call Jared until after work, so now he was lounging on his couch, feet up on the coffee table as he held his phone up to his ear. He'd learned that the Pedlow competition would be starting at noon the next day, and that it was actually the kick-off to a skate tour that was similar in some ways to Tony Hawk's Boom Boom Huck Jam tour. It was going to last a few months, and travel all over the country.
The pros that were scheduled to be there: Muska, Reynolds, Koston, Rowley, and Padalecki.
Jared was going to be leaving.
"Oh hey," the younger man said. "What's up?"
"I just heard about that tour that starts tomorrow," Jensen said slowly.
Jared was silent for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I was thrown in kinda last minute." His voice echoed the somberness that Jensen felt. "Eric told me on Sunday that I was doing it."
"It's pretty cool," Jensen said. "Great for you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jared said dryly. "For the good of my career."
"I'll be there tomorrow," Jensen said. "I'm covering the comp for Transworld."
"Oh yeah?" Jared still didn't sound very enthused. "Hey, do you wanna come see me tonight?"
"You know I do."
"I'm staying at a hotel in Encino," Jared said, and Jensen could tell he was rolling his eyes. "Eric's idea to help me start off the tour for myself."
Jared quickly gave Jensen directions to the hotel, and told him what room he was staying in. Jensen was going to be meeting up with his teammates, Steve and Christian the next day around eleven for their assignment, so he supposed he could stay the night with Jared.
He took his car this time, and he drove like a bat outta hell, reaching Encino in record timing. The hotel wasn't as big and fancy as you'd think for a celebrity, but maybe that was why they'd chosen it. Jensen rode the elevator up to the third floor, and when he climbed out, his excitement to see Jared grew.
Stopping outside the door that said 341, Jensen knocked quickly. As it opened, Jared appeared, reaching forward and grabbing the front of Jensen's tee shirt. The skater yanked Jensen into the room, and before Jensen knew it, he was crushed against Jared's chest, and Jared's lips were on his.
"Got here as fast as I could," Jensen said against Jared's mouth, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Still took too long," Jared said, before turning and shoving Jensen onto the bed.
It was slightly desperate as they kissed, their hands roaming each other's bodies freely -- it felt almost as if Jared needed Jensen. They stripped quickly, their clothes getting thrown to the floor, and Jared sat astride Jensen.
As Jared kissed at Jensen's jaw bone, leading a trail to Jensen's collarbone and shoulder, his hands smoothed over Jensen's chest. Jensen scratched his fingernails down Jared's back, then squeezed Jared's hips, feeling that he would never be able to get enough of the younger man. Their cocks were resting against one another's, growing hard as Jared started to rock his hips forward.
It didn't last long, and they didn't go any further than this. Jared continued to move on top of Jensen, creating friction between them as they kissed and caressed, stroked each other's bodies. Jared was practically thrusting his hips against Jensen's, rubbing his dick against Jensen's, and it was something Jensen had never experienced before.
Jared buried his head between Jensen's neck and shoulder, and kissed him lightly. Then he said, his voice broken by his panting, "I need you so much."
He sounded so innocent and truthful that Jensen didn't know how to react. He wrapped his arms around Jensen's shoulders, grinding his hips upwards off of the mattress in tune with the younger man's, and he combed his fingers through Jared's hair lightly.
Tangling his fingers just slightly in Jared's hair, he lifted Jared's head and gave him a deep kiss. It was all he could think to do. The night they'd first had sex (it seemed so long ago, even though it hadn't even been a week), it'd been purely primal -- two horny guys attracted to one another. Now it seemed to be strangely passionate.
Jared seemed so needy and starved for affection; it almost explained why he acted like an arrogant jerk all the time. And while a part of Jensen knew it was silly to care so much so early on in the relationship, he couldn't help it -- he wanted to be the one to provide Jared with what he needed.
When they finished, when they both lay side-by-side, breathing in the smell of sex, Jared seemed like he might be a little distant. Jensen, an arm around Jared's shoulders as the younger man lay practically draped across him, started tracing imaginary circles on Jared's bare skin with his finger.
"What's wrong?" Jensen asked.
"I don't know what the point is anymore," Jared said. "I just got finished doing a bunch of shit, I come home, I meet you, I get my dogs back, and now I have to go out again. I'm just glad Sophia could take Sadie and Harley on such short notice."
"If she wouldn't have," Jensen said slowly, trying not to come across too mushy or anything, "I would've. Even with my small apartment."
Jared gave a small smile, but he sighed. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind. Jensen waited, but the younger man said nothing else, and Jensen knew it wasn't really his place to ask.
The night seemed to go by too quickly.
* * *
Jared came out of the hotel bathroom, a towel wrapped lazily around his waist, and his hair dripping wet. Jensen, his hair still messy from sleeping, body still naked, was sitting on the edge of the bed. Jared had woken around eight, and had spent most of his morning watching TV, and occasionally looking at Jensen, who looked quite peaceful when he was sleeping.
It was close to nine thirty however, and that meant he was running late.
"Where do you have to be so early?" Jensen asked, as if reading his mind.
"Some stupid breakfast thing," Jared mumbled, going to one of his bags. "Have to go be social and all that bullshit."
Jensen didn't say anything as Jared bent and pulled out a pair of jeans. As Jared started to pull them on under the towel -- even if Jensen had seen him naked, it could get awkward sometimes -- a familiar ache went through his wrist, and one in his knee as well. He almost cursed out loud, but held himself back.
He slipped up though, and after he'd finished buttoning the jeans, he grabbed his left wrist, squeezing it like he always did. He didn't realize until a moment later that Jensen would no doubt, see that there was something wrong.
"Does your wrist hurt?" Jensen asked.
"No." Jared shook his head.
"I'm not stupid, Jared," Jensen said, shaking his head and looking away. "Every time you think I'm not looking, you're grabbing your wrist. The first time I met you, you had a brace on your arm. What's wrong with it?"
"It's nothing," Jared said, "Just some side-effects --"
"Of what?" Jensen asked. "Why did you have the brace in the first place? You told people you pulled something at the gym. How?"
Jared closed his eyes, turning away from Jensen, and he rubbed at his eyes. He grabbed the towel that he'd had around his waist, and started to dry his hair with it. A silence fell over them, but it didn't last long. Jensen was suddenly at his side, looking both concerned and angry.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said. "I can't just pretend not to notice anymore."
Jared sighed, then dropped his arms to his sides, averting his gaze. If anyone deserved to know, he guessed it was Jensen.
"When I did that interview, and I told you my dad was sick," he started, "I didn't mean like...sick with the flu or anything. My father has a really bad form of arthritis -- doctors don't know too much about it. He got it from his father. And I think I'm getting it too."
"You think?"
"Well I haven't exactly gotten it checked out yet," Jared said.
One of Jensen's hands went to his head, then went out to his side. "Why not?" he asked, both incredulous and frustrated.
"What the hell's a doctor gonna do for me?" Jared asked, turning away from Jensen and bending to go through his bag again. "Give me a brace -- I already have one -- stick me with some meds, and 'advise' me not to skate anymore?"
"Jared --"
"That's not happening, Jensen," Jared straightened again, a shirt in his hands, and he shot a glare at Jensen as if it were his fault. He knew he was really only angry with himself. "Skating is my life, and I'm not giving it up for anything." He started to pull his tee shirt on. "My dad has it so bad that he has to wear braces -- plural, not singular -- all the time, and he has to walk with a fucking cane. Not me, Jensen."
"You think if you ignore it, it'll go away?" Jensen asked. "That's not how it works."
"The doctors can't do anything about it," Jared insisted. "My dad went as soon as his body started hurting -- they couldn't help him. Pain meds and braces is all they could offer him."
"But you could get really hurt," Jensen said. "It's just your wrist; they might not be able to cure it completely, but they could definitely help."
Jared laughed dryly, shaking his head as he pulled the shirt on. "Yeah, well, what if it's," he suddenly realized what he was saying, and while he couldn't stop himself, he lowered his tone to a mumble, "Not just...my wrist?"
Silence. Jensen stared hard at him for a long moment.
"What?" he asked.
On the small desk, Jared's phone started ringing. Tearing his gaze away Jensen's, Jared moved quickly across the room and grabbed it -- he knew it was Eric without even looking at the caller i.d.
"Yeah?"
"Did you oversleep?"
Jared rolled his eyes, licking his lips and wanting nothing more than to curl up in a hole for a while -- forget this stupid tour, forget his stupid pains, and forget the way he made Jensen angry.
"No," he answered. "I just need to get my shoes on, and then I'm gone, Eric."
"Jared, do I really need to do this to you?" Eric asked. "Treat you like you don't know responsibility? I love you kid, but I can't hold your hand all the time."
"You don't need to," Jared said. "Look, I'll be down in two minutes, no more."
He hung up, shoving the phone into his pocket, and he glanced over his shoulder at Jensen who was standing there, his arms crossed as he gazed at the floor. Almost hesitantly, Jared bent to grab his shoes -- he'd had to deck himself out in Element gear today, make sure everyone knew what team he was on.
"I have to go," he said, grabbing everything he knew he was going to need at Pedlow. "We'll talk about this later, okay Jensen?"
Before the older man could even answer, Jared was out the door, feeling a kind of guilt that he wasn't really used to. He pushed it all from his mind however, attempting to make himself forget about Jensen for the time being, and he tried to focus on what today was all about.
Him. His skating. His fans who paid a lot of money to see him skate.
That's all that mattered sometimes.
* * *
After Reynolds, before Koston, the crowd was going crazy.
Jared took a few steadying breaths as he waited for the mark, holding his board at the ready and knowing that he couldn't mess up. The others who'd already skated today, even the amateurs, had all down extremely well. If he even had the slightest slip-up, things wouldn't be good.
He knew it was only his imagination, but he'd convinced himself that he could feel Jensen's eyes on him too. Transworld wasn't the only magazine or e-zine there today, but they were the only one that mattered to Jared.
The brace was on his arm again, dulling the pain in his wrist that had seemed to intensify minutes before he was warming up. It also didn't help that his knee was threatening him, hinting at aches and pains that he wished would just go away. He should've picked up an Ace bandage at the store or something, anything to wrap around his leg.
The buzzer went off, the signal.
It was routine, he didn't even think really. Hopping on the board, goofy-stance rather than regular, and he glided down the small ramp. First a manual to catch the crowd's attention, get them excited, and then a few kickflips -- those were his specialty.
Cameras were flashing, people were going crazy, things were going great. Jared knew he was kicking ass, and he was starting to feel a whole lot better than he had all day. Coming down from another simple trick (that he knew he made look good), he caught sight of a rail that'd been neglected that whole day by the other skaters. He wanted to stray from the norm for the judges.
He gathered speed, made his way towards it, and he had a strong ollie going. That's when things seemed to start to drag, blur, and happen in slow motion.
The bottom of his board touched the rail, perfect ammo for a frontslide-noseslide. But as he was trying to work on his balance, something seemed to twist in his leg -- whatever it was, it hit him hard -- and white hot pain seared through his body, his every nerve.
His ears were ringing as he started to fall forward, but it didn't block out the collective gasp that went through the audience. Jared's chest slammed into the rail he'd two seconds before been ready to slide across, and more pain moved through his body as he fell to the ground in a heap, his board going God knew where.
Any of the other skaters that day would've been able to get up and get back on track, but the pain in Jared's knee was too strong, way too strong, and he couldn't do anything but grasp at it, face contorted in pain. He didn't realize until a few seconds later that short noises were leaving him, groans of agony. He could barely breathe, a fact made worse by the way he'd hit the railing.
Medics were rushing towards him as he rolled onto his side, back curled so he could squeeze at his leg, and some people in the crowd seemed to be screaming as if they were the ones in pain. He was so mortified and disappointed, pissed off and humiliated. He wanted to die rather than let the medics -- they'd reached him and were trying to pull his hands away so they could check the damage -- take him away.
"Get away from me," he gasped out.
One of them said something to him, but he couldn't make it out over the sound of the crowd.
He couldn't believe it, this was it, he was finished. His career, the skating career he'd worked so hard to build up, was over. He just wanted to die.
And then he thought of Jensen -- guilt joined his feeling of embarrassment, and he wondered what the sports writer would say to him after this. What if Jensen didn't want to be with him anymore? What if Jensen gave up on him because he couldn't skate anymore?
Jared just wanted to die.
* * *
"Can I come in?"
Jared glanced up from the boring white sheet over top of him, and his throat tightened slightly. Jensen was standing in the doorway of his hospital room, wearing an unreadable expression and twiddling his thumbs in front of him. Jared lowered his gaze quickly. Eric had come to visit earlier, but besides that, there hadn't been anyone. He was sure Sophia didn't even know about this yet.
"Sure," he said.
Jensen slowly entered the room, looking around as if he really cared about the wallpaper or something. Jared shifted in the hospital bed, relaxing back against the pillows that the nurse had so eagerly fluffed for him. He'd had to leave Pedlow of course, much to the disappointment of some of the fans (to the horror of others), and at the hospital, they'd given him some pain medicine while they took tests.
Apparently he'd pulled a muscle or something, and his arthritic knee had decided to kick in at just that moment. A combination that could've sent anyone smashing into that damn railing. What luck, huh?
"How are you feeling?" Jensen asked.
"Fine," Jared answered slowly. "They gave me something for the pain. And I still have this," he added dryly, raising his left arm to show the brace. "They're gonna be giving me one for my leg. They said something about surgery, but I wasn't paying attention."
"You should've told me," Jensen said. "So at least I would've had some warning. I didn't know what to do when I saw you land the way you did."
"I was kinda hoping maybe you'd stepped out for food or something," Jared said.
"Things could've ended up so much worse," Jensen said.
"I don't see how." Jared folded his arms over his chest, and felt his jaw clench as he turned to look towards the large window in his room. "I worked so hard for this, for my name to be out there like this. And now, I can't skate anymore. The doctor told me it would be in my best interest if I never stepped on a board again."
"People aren't going to just forget about you, Jared," Jensen said softly. "You know the kind of shit I heard on my way here? Your kind of talent is always gonna be remembered. You'll always have your name out there."
"It's not fair," Jared said, shaking his head.
"What isn't?"
"Why was I given all this talent if this was just gonna happen to me?" Jared asked. "Why couldn't it have been given to someone like you? You're almost thirty and you haven't got health problems like me, you could be the one doing tours like this."
Jensen snorted. "Yeah right," he said. "Who're people more likely to want to watch skate, me or you?"
"That's not the point, Jensen."
"Yeah, and you missed my point," the older man said. "When I said things could've ended up much worse, I meant, you could've been hurt a lot worse. Thank God you don't skate vert -- you could've been injured so much more than this."
"I don't feel that way," Jared said.
"You're being moody," Jensen said. "Your pride's just been crushed slightly."
"Slightly? I fucked up in front of hundreds of people, thousands if you count the ESPN broadcasts. And now I have to give up what I love most in life?" Jared shook his head again. "I couldn't have been injured any worse than this."
A small silence fell over them, and Jensen neared the bed. He turned and sat down on the edge of it, his back to Jared as they were both lost in their own thoughts. Jensen glanced over his shoulder.
"Kids are gonna be wearing your name on their shirts for a while, Jared," he said. "They're gonna be spending hundreds of dollars to buy your shoes, or to skate on your boards. You're gonna be a legend."
"What are you --?"
"Think about it," Jensen said. "Kurt Cobain died and gained even more popularity than he'd already had. You're like the Kurt Cobain of skating, only you aren't dead. Thank God for that too."
Despite it all, this did make Jared laugh.
"I mean it," Jensen said. "And besides, now you won't have to leave your dogs every so often. Imagine how happy they'll be to have you roll around on the floor with them for that much longer."
Jared was still laughing, but now he wanted to cry. This was too much to take in, everything. He just wanted to go to sleep or something, and he wanted to stay asleep for a couple of years, wait for everything to blow over. He didn't know what he would do if he was alone, even with Eric he didn't think he'd have been able to make it.
"And it looks like I don't have to leave you, huh?" he asked suddenly.
Jensen's shoulders seemed to tense, and his ears reddened. A sudden swelling in Jared's chest seemed to occur, as he thought about the first time he'd met Jensen, the first time he'd made the older man blush like that.
"Guess not," Jensen said shortly, giving Jared an embarrassed little smile over his shoulder.
Jared paused, and he fidgeted with the sheet draped over him. He swallowed against the dry lump in his throat, and he shrugged one of his shoulders.
"Last Thursday," he said, "When we went out. When I brought you back to my place, and you said that it must get lonely?"
"Yeah."
"It does." Jared's voice seemed to crack, but he didn't care. "It gets really lonely there. That's why I have my dogs." He paused again. "You're...welcome any time, you know? If you want to spend the night or anything."
"Well it's a pretty big place," Jensen said slowly. "I could always...move in."
"Yeah." Jared bit his bottom lip. "I think I need you now more than ever."
Jensen turned his whole body this time, his green eyes meeting Jared's and holding them. They looked at each other for what felt like ages, and one of Jensen's hands came to rest over one of Jared's -- not in a sappy way though, almost casual.
"I'll be there," Jensen said. "And I have an idea."
NEXT.
Fandom: RPS - Actors
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki
Rating: NC17
Warnings: AU, language, slash, sexual content, bottom!Jared, see note.
Status: Complete
Words: 5,145
Summary: Jared Padalecki -- professional skater: talented, good-looking, insufferably arrogant. Jensen Ackles, writer for Transworld Skateboarding magazine, isn't to happy when he has to interview the one and only Jared, who thinks he's God's gift to the skate world. And leave it to Jensen to be attracted to someone he hates. But will he learn that it's all just a front? What's the reason for Jared's cockiness and can Jensen learn to live with it?
Note: All information at the masterpost.
Previous Chapters:
{ MASTERPOST}
GIMME DANGER
f o u r
"I know you're probably on your way to work right now, but I just had to call and leave you a message. I'm real sorry for not calling today...well, by the time you get this message, it'll be yesterday. I really have no excuse. But I'm calling now, and I want to get together tomorrow -- er, tonight. Give me a call back later."
Jensen smiled as he listened to the voicemail, hanging up his cell phone as he walked to work from the bus stop. He'd left Jared on Sunday afternoon, and hadn't heard from him until Tuesday morning, but it was nice to know he hadn't been forgotten. Nice to know Jared hadn't found some Van Nuys hottie at the party to shack up with.
Shoving the phone into his pocket, he made a mental note to call Jared later on in the day, when he wasn't afraid of waking the pro-skater up. He pushed open the doors of the office building, and made his way to the elevator, a new bounce in his step.
Because the bus was always so early, Jensen was the first to arrive at the Transworld office that day. He unlocked the door of the main office, slipping inside, and he flipped the light switch to illuminate the whole room. He glanced at his watch -- the others would probably start to arrive in a little over five minutes, Jeff being the first, so he decided he'd just sit at his desk until they did.
And then he heard it.
The door of Jeff's office was cracked just slightly, though the room seemed to be dark inside. What Jensen had heard had sounded like a muffled curse, followed by a thump of sorts. Confusion wasn't nearly a strong enough word for what furrowed Jensen's brow.
He moved silently towards the door, unable to come up with any idea as to what might be going on in the room. Were they being robbed? Why on earth would someone want to steal from Jeff's office? What the hell would they steal anyway? There wasn't any kind of logical explanation for what might be going on, so Jensen figured he had the right to find out.
He hesitated, then pushed the door open and reached for the light switch.
For what felt like a very long moment, he had to wonder if he'd really woken up at all that day -- surely he must've still been dreaming. Chad was bent over Jeff's desk, Jeff behind him, and the two mirrored Jensen's shocked expression. It was like a trainwreck for Jensen, he just couldn't bring himself to look away from the scene.
"Jesus," he said, finally blinking himself out of his stupor. "I'm sorry -- I didn't --" he stumbled for anything that might sound about right. "Morning guys."
"Jensen."
He flicked the light switch again, turning it off, and then pulled the door shut all the way. Feeling both embarrassed and still completely surprised, he started for his desk. It definitely explained why Jeff always called Chad into his office, and Jensen couldn't believe he'd never figured it out himself before.
He heard the office door open and close again, and he turned to see a very flustered-looking Chad, gaze fixed on the floor as he fumbled to right his belt and buckle it.
"Jensen," he said again, "It's not what it looks like."
"You're screwing the boss!" Jensen exclaimed in a low tone, almost a whisper.
Chad paused, then started over. "Okay, it is what it looks like," he said. "But it doesn't mean anything. We just...have sex sometimes."
"Isn't he married?" Jensen asked, not knowing whether or not to be sickened -- truth be told, it'd actually been a rather hot sight. One he wished he could get out of his head.
"No!" Chad answered quickly, then paused. "Well, he's going through the divorce now."
"Jesus Christ, Chad," Jensen said.
"Don't think any less of me, Jen," Chad said. "Like I said, it doesn't mean anything. And it's not for the reasons you might think -- we just like having sex with each other."
"What do you think the others would think if they knew?" Jensen asked. "That you were sleeping your way to the top?"
"But it ain't like that!" Chad exclaimed, "Or else, I'd be the one getting interviews with Padalecki or something. In fact, it's like I'm sleeping myself to the bottom, Jeff's so damn paranoid."
"All those times Jeff called you into his office?" Jensen asked.
Chad thought for a second. "Ninety percent of the time," he said slowly.
"Oh my God." Jensen sat down in his chair, running his fingers through his hair.
A heavy silence blanketed them, and Chad shifted awkwardly on his feet, fidgeting nervously. Jensen kept glancing around him, but the door to Jeff's office remained closed. Finally, Chad spoke again.
"Please tell me what you're thinking, Jensen."
"I'm thinking I need a moment to collect myself," he said. "I'm just...surprised is all. I had no idea."
"You can't tell anyone," Chad said. "Please, don't tell anyone."
"Of course I won't," Jensen said. He paused for a moment or two, and the initial shock started to fade. He glanced up at Chad. "Why didn't you tell me though? It would've been nice to have a little warning."
"Jeff didn't want me to tell anyone," Chad said, "For exactly what you said -- he didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression."
"But I'm your best friend," Jensen said.
"I know, and I'm sorry," Chad said, looking and sounding as genuine as anyone could.
Something suddenly struck Jensen, and he lowered his gaze. He took a deep breath, and shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "I haven't exactly been too honest with you either, come to think of it."
When he glanced back up at Chad, Chad had furrowed his brows. The other man crossed his arms, a confused expression on his face.
"With what?" he asked.
"The guy I've been going out with," Jensen said. "I never told you 'cause I thought you wouldn't believe me."
Chad smirked. "It's not Bam Margera, is it?"
Jensen laughed before he could stop himself, and after a second, Chad joined in. The tension in the room seemed to fade instantly, but Jensen still didn't know how he was going to tell Chad about Jared. A silence seemed to stretch on for hours, when it was really only one or two minutes.
"It's uh...it's Jared...Padalecki."
Chad's eyebrows raised, though his expression remained relatively blank for a long moment. He stared hard at Jensen, trying to read him it seemed, and Jensen kept his face neutral. Finally Chad blinked.
"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked.
"I was serious about Bam, and you never believed me," Jensen said with a nervous smile. "But yeah. That day when everyone got around to reading my article, when I told you my sister had called. It'd actually been Jared, asking me to dinner."
"No way."
Jensen nodded slowly. Chad studied him again, but after a while, he smiled.
"Then it seems we both have secrets we have to keep," he said. "You don't tell mine, I won't tell yours."
Jensen laughed. "Deal," he said.
In a move they'd started when they first met, Jensen and Chad touched their knuckles together like a pair of high school boys. They were still grinning at each other when the door to Jeff's office finally opened, and Jeff appeared, obviously chagrined, but holding together as much pride as he possibly could.
"Jensen," he said shortly, "Chad -- we need to talk."
"He's cool, boss," Chad said. "He'll take it to his grave."
Jeff was even more embarrassed, it seemed, that Chad was speaking about it so freely, and he cleared his throat. "Well, uh, yes," he said. "Ackles," back to last names, "I still need to talk to you -- got more information about the Pedlow thing."
It was strangely nice to have told someone about Jared -- Jensen had been a lot more excited about it than he'd thought, and voicing it aloud gave him a weird kind of butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling. Also, now that he wasn't so completely flabbergasted at what he'd seen, it was pretty cool knowing one of his boss' deepest secrets. Jensen was going to have to fight the urge not to joke around with Jeff about blackmailing him someday.
Throwing a grin at Chad, Jensen climbed to his feet to learn more about his new assignment.
* * *
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
Jensen hadn't been able to call Jared until after work, so now he was lounging on his couch, feet up on the coffee table as he held his phone up to his ear. He'd learned that the Pedlow competition would be starting at noon the next day, and that it was actually the kick-off to a skate tour that was similar in some ways to Tony Hawk's Boom Boom Huck Jam tour. It was going to last a few months, and travel all over the country.
The pros that were scheduled to be there: Muska, Reynolds, Koston, Rowley, and Padalecki.
Jared was going to be leaving.
"Oh hey," the younger man said. "What's up?"
"I just heard about that tour that starts tomorrow," Jensen said slowly.
Jared was silent for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I was thrown in kinda last minute." His voice echoed the somberness that Jensen felt. "Eric told me on Sunday that I was doing it."
"It's pretty cool," Jensen said. "Great for you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jared said dryly. "For the good of my career."
"I'll be there tomorrow," Jensen said. "I'm covering the comp for Transworld."
"Oh yeah?" Jared still didn't sound very enthused. "Hey, do you wanna come see me tonight?"
"You know I do."
"I'm staying at a hotel in Encino," Jared said, and Jensen could tell he was rolling his eyes. "Eric's idea to help me start off the tour for myself."
Jared quickly gave Jensen directions to the hotel, and told him what room he was staying in. Jensen was going to be meeting up with his teammates, Steve and Christian the next day around eleven for their assignment, so he supposed he could stay the night with Jared.
He took his car this time, and he drove like a bat outta hell, reaching Encino in record timing. The hotel wasn't as big and fancy as you'd think for a celebrity, but maybe that was why they'd chosen it. Jensen rode the elevator up to the third floor, and when he climbed out, his excitement to see Jared grew.
Stopping outside the door that said 341, Jensen knocked quickly. As it opened, Jared appeared, reaching forward and grabbing the front of Jensen's tee shirt. The skater yanked Jensen into the room, and before Jensen knew it, he was crushed against Jared's chest, and Jared's lips were on his.
"Got here as fast as I could," Jensen said against Jared's mouth, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Still took too long," Jared said, before turning and shoving Jensen onto the bed.
It was slightly desperate as they kissed, their hands roaming each other's bodies freely -- it felt almost as if Jared needed Jensen. They stripped quickly, their clothes getting thrown to the floor, and Jared sat astride Jensen.
As Jared kissed at Jensen's jaw bone, leading a trail to Jensen's collarbone and shoulder, his hands smoothed over Jensen's chest. Jensen scratched his fingernails down Jared's back, then squeezed Jared's hips, feeling that he would never be able to get enough of the younger man. Their cocks were resting against one another's, growing hard as Jared started to rock his hips forward.
It didn't last long, and they didn't go any further than this. Jared continued to move on top of Jensen, creating friction between them as they kissed and caressed, stroked each other's bodies. Jared was practically thrusting his hips against Jensen's, rubbing his dick against Jensen's, and it was something Jensen had never experienced before.
Jared buried his head between Jensen's neck and shoulder, and kissed him lightly. Then he said, his voice broken by his panting, "I need you so much."
He sounded so innocent and truthful that Jensen didn't know how to react. He wrapped his arms around Jensen's shoulders, grinding his hips upwards off of the mattress in tune with the younger man's, and he combed his fingers through Jared's hair lightly.
Tangling his fingers just slightly in Jared's hair, he lifted Jared's head and gave him a deep kiss. It was all he could think to do. The night they'd first had sex (it seemed so long ago, even though it hadn't even been a week), it'd been purely primal -- two horny guys attracted to one another. Now it seemed to be strangely passionate.
Jared seemed so needy and starved for affection; it almost explained why he acted like an arrogant jerk all the time. And while a part of Jensen knew it was silly to care so much so early on in the relationship, he couldn't help it -- he wanted to be the one to provide Jared with what he needed.
When they finished, when they both lay side-by-side, breathing in the smell of sex, Jared seemed like he might be a little distant. Jensen, an arm around Jared's shoulders as the younger man lay practically draped across him, started tracing imaginary circles on Jared's bare skin with his finger.
"What's wrong?" Jensen asked.
"I don't know what the point is anymore," Jared said. "I just got finished doing a bunch of shit, I come home, I meet you, I get my dogs back, and now I have to go out again. I'm just glad Sophia could take Sadie and Harley on such short notice."
"If she wouldn't have," Jensen said slowly, trying not to come across too mushy or anything, "I would've. Even with my small apartment."
Jared gave a small smile, but he sighed. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind. Jensen waited, but the younger man said nothing else, and Jensen knew it wasn't really his place to ask.
The night seemed to go by too quickly.
* * *
Jared came out of the hotel bathroom, a towel wrapped lazily around his waist, and his hair dripping wet. Jensen, his hair still messy from sleeping, body still naked, was sitting on the edge of the bed. Jared had woken around eight, and had spent most of his morning watching TV, and occasionally looking at Jensen, who looked quite peaceful when he was sleeping.
It was close to nine thirty however, and that meant he was running late.
"Where do you have to be so early?" Jensen asked, as if reading his mind.
"Some stupid breakfast thing," Jared mumbled, going to one of his bags. "Have to go be social and all that bullshit."
Jensen didn't say anything as Jared bent and pulled out a pair of jeans. As Jared started to pull them on under the towel -- even if Jensen had seen him naked, it could get awkward sometimes -- a familiar ache went through his wrist, and one in his knee as well. He almost cursed out loud, but held himself back.
He slipped up though, and after he'd finished buttoning the jeans, he grabbed his left wrist, squeezing it like he always did. He didn't realize until a moment later that Jensen would no doubt, see that there was something wrong.
"Does your wrist hurt?" Jensen asked.
"No." Jared shook his head.
"I'm not stupid, Jared," Jensen said, shaking his head and looking away. "Every time you think I'm not looking, you're grabbing your wrist. The first time I met you, you had a brace on your arm. What's wrong with it?"
"It's nothing," Jared said, "Just some side-effects --"
"Of what?" Jensen asked. "Why did you have the brace in the first place? You told people you pulled something at the gym. How?"
Jared closed his eyes, turning away from Jensen, and he rubbed at his eyes. He grabbed the towel that he'd had around his waist, and started to dry his hair with it. A silence fell over them, but it didn't last long. Jensen was suddenly at his side, looking both concerned and angry.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said. "I can't just pretend not to notice anymore."
Jared sighed, then dropped his arms to his sides, averting his gaze. If anyone deserved to know, he guessed it was Jensen.
"When I did that interview, and I told you my dad was sick," he started, "I didn't mean like...sick with the flu or anything. My father has a really bad form of arthritis -- doctors don't know too much about it. He got it from his father. And I think I'm getting it too."
"You think?"
"Well I haven't exactly gotten it checked out yet," Jared said.
One of Jensen's hands went to his head, then went out to his side. "Why not?" he asked, both incredulous and frustrated.
"What the hell's a doctor gonna do for me?" Jared asked, turning away from Jensen and bending to go through his bag again. "Give me a brace -- I already have one -- stick me with some meds, and 'advise' me not to skate anymore?"
"Jared --"
"That's not happening, Jensen," Jared straightened again, a shirt in his hands, and he shot a glare at Jensen as if it were his fault. He knew he was really only angry with himself. "Skating is my life, and I'm not giving it up for anything." He started to pull his tee shirt on. "My dad has it so bad that he has to wear braces -- plural, not singular -- all the time, and he has to walk with a fucking cane. Not me, Jensen."
"You think if you ignore it, it'll go away?" Jensen asked. "That's not how it works."
"The doctors can't do anything about it," Jared insisted. "My dad went as soon as his body started hurting -- they couldn't help him. Pain meds and braces is all they could offer him."
"But you could get really hurt," Jensen said. "It's just your wrist; they might not be able to cure it completely, but they could definitely help."
Jared laughed dryly, shaking his head as he pulled the shirt on. "Yeah, well, what if it's," he suddenly realized what he was saying, and while he couldn't stop himself, he lowered his tone to a mumble, "Not just...my wrist?"
Silence. Jensen stared hard at him for a long moment.
"What?" he asked.
On the small desk, Jared's phone started ringing. Tearing his gaze away Jensen's, Jared moved quickly across the room and grabbed it -- he knew it was Eric without even looking at the caller i.d.
"Yeah?"
"Did you oversleep?"
Jared rolled his eyes, licking his lips and wanting nothing more than to curl up in a hole for a while -- forget this stupid tour, forget his stupid pains, and forget the way he made Jensen angry.
"No," he answered. "I just need to get my shoes on, and then I'm gone, Eric."
"Jared, do I really need to do this to you?" Eric asked. "Treat you like you don't know responsibility? I love you kid, but I can't hold your hand all the time."
"You don't need to," Jared said. "Look, I'll be down in two minutes, no more."
He hung up, shoving the phone into his pocket, and he glanced over his shoulder at Jensen who was standing there, his arms crossed as he gazed at the floor. Almost hesitantly, Jared bent to grab his shoes -- he'd had to deck himself out in Element gear today, make sure everyone knew what team he was on.
"I have to go," he said, grabbing everything he knew he was going to need at Pedlow. "We'll talk about this later, okay Jensen?"
Before the older man could even answer, Jared was out the door, feeling a kind of guilt that he wasn't really used to. He pushed it all from his mind however, attempting to make himself forget about Jensen for the time being, and he tried to focus on what today was all about.
Him. His skating. His fans who paid a lot of money to see him skate.
That's all that mattered sometimes.
* * *
After Reynolds, before Koston, the crowd was going crazy.
Jared took a few steadying breaths as he waited for the mark, holding his board at the ready and knowing that he couldn't mess up. The others who'd already skated today, even the amateurs, had all down extremely well. If he even had the slightest slip-up, things wouldn't be good.
He knew it was only his imagination, but he'd convinced himself that he could feel Jensen's eyes on him too. Transworld wasn't the only magazine or e-zine there today, but they were the only one that mattered to Jared.
The brace was on his arm again, dulling the pain in his wrist that had seemed to intensify minutes before he was warming up. It also didn't help that his knee was threatening him, hinting at aches and pains that he wished would just go away. He should've picked up an Ace bandage at the store or something, anything to wrap around his leg.
The buzzer went off, the signal.
It was routine, he didn't even think really. Hopping on the board, goofy-stance rather than regular, and he glided down the small ramp. First a manual to catch the crowd's attention, get them excited, and then a few kickflips -- those were his specialty.
Cameras were flashing, people were going crazy, things were going great. Jared knew he was kicking ass, and he was starting to feel a whole lot better than he had all day. Coming down from another simple trick (that he knew he made look good), he caught sight of a rail that'd been neglected that whole day by the other skaters. He wanted to stray from the norm for the judges.
He gathered speed, made his way towards it, and he had a strong ollie going. That's when things seemed to start to drag, blur, and happen in slow motion.
The bottom of his board touched the rail, perfect ammo for a frontslide-noseslide. But as he was trying to work on his balance, something seemed to twist in his leg -- whatever it was, it hit him hard -- and white hot pain seared through his body, his every nerve.
His ears were ringing as he started to fall forward, but it didn't block out the collective gasp that went through the audience. Jared's chest slammed into the rail he'd two seconds before been ready to slide across, and more pain moved through his body as he fell to the ground in a heap, his board going God knew where.
Any of the other skaters that day would've been able to get up and get back on track, but the pain in Jared's knee was too strong, way too strong, and he couldn't do anything but grasp at it, face contorted in pain. He didn't realize until a few seconds later that short noises were leaving him, groans of agony. He could barely breathe, a fact made worse by the way he'd hit the railing.
Medics were rushing towards him as he rolled onto his side, back curled so he could squeeze at his leg, and some people in the crowd seemed to be screaming as if they were the ones in pain. He was so mortified and disappointed, pissed off and humiliated. He wanted to die rather than let the medics -- they'd reached him and were trying to pull his hands away so they could check the damage -- take him away.
"Get away from me," he gasped out.
One of them said something to him, but he couldn't make it out over the sound of the crowd.
He couldn't believe it, this was it, he was finished. His career, the skating career he'd worked so hard to build up, was over. He just wanted to die.
And then he thought of Jensen -- guilt joined his feeling of embarrassment, and he wondered what the sports writer would say to him after this. What if Jensen didn't want to be with him anymore? What if Jensen gave up on him because he couldn't skate anymore?
Jared just wanted to die.
* * *
"Can I come in?"
Jared glanced up from the boring white sheet over top of him, and his throat tightened slightly. Jensen was standing in the doorway of his hospital room, wearing an unreadable expression and twiddling his thumbs in front of him. Jared lowered his gaze quickly. Eric had come to visit earlier, but besides that, there hadn't been anyone. He was sure Sophia didn't even know about this yet.
"Sure," he said.
Jensen slowly entered the room, looking around as if he really cared about the wallpaper or something. Jared shifted in the hospital bed, relaxing back against the pillows that the nurse had so eagerly fluffed for him. He'd had to leave Pedlow of course, much to the disappointment of some of the fans (to the horror of others), and at the hospital, they'd given him some pain medicine while they took tests.
Apparently he'd pulled a muscle or something, and his arthritic knee had decided to kick in at just that moment. A combination that could've sent anyone smashing into that damn railing. What luck, huh?
"How are you feeling?" Jensen asked.
"Fine," Jared answered slowly. "They gave me something for the pain. And I still have this," he added dryly, raising his left arm to show the brace. "They're gonna be giving me one for my leg. They said something about surgery, but I wasn't paying attention."
"You should've told me," Jensen said. "So at least I would've had some warning. I didn't know what to do when I saw you land the way you did."
"I was kinda hoping maybe you'd stepped out for food or something," Jared said.
"Things could've ended up so much worse," Jensen said.
"I don't see how." Jared folded his arms over his chest, and felt his jaw clench as he turned to look towards the large window in his room. "I worked so hard for this, for my name to be out there like this. And now, I can't skate anymore. The doctor told me it would be in my best interest if I never stepped on a board again."
"People aren't going to just forget about you, Jared," Jensen said softly. "You know the kind of shit I heard on my way here? Your kind of talent is always gonna be remembered. You'll always have your name out there."
"It's not fair," Jared said, shaking his head.
"What isn't?"
"Why was I given all this talent if this was just gonna happen to me?" Jared asked. "Why couldn't it have been given to someone like you? You're almost thirty and you haven't got health problems like me, you could be the one doing tours like this."
Jensen snorted. "Yeah right," he said. "Who're people more likely to want to watch skate, me or you?"
"That's not the point, Jensen."
"Yeah, and you missed my point," the older man said. "When I said things could've ended up much worse, I meant, you could've been hurt a lot worse. Thank God you don't skate vert -- you could've been injured so much more than this."
"I don't feel that way," Jared said.
"You're being moody," Jensen said. "Your pride's just been crushed slightly."
"Slightly? I fucked up in front of hundreds of people, thousands if you count the ESPN broadcasts. And now I have to give up what I love most in life?" Jared shook his head again. "I couldn't have been injured any worse than this."
A small silence fell over them, and Jensen neared the bed. He turned and sat down on the edge of it, his back to Jared as they were both lost in their own thoughts. Jensen glanced over his shoulder.
"Kids are gonna be wearing your name on their shirts for a while, Jared," he said. "They're gonna be spending hundreds of dollars to buy your shoes, or to skate on your boards. You're gonna be a legend."
"What are you --?"
"Think about it," Jensen said. "Kurt Cobain died and gained even more popularity than he'd already had. You're like the Kurt Cobain of skating, only you aren't dead. Thank God for that too."
Despite it all, this did make Jared laugh.
"I mean it," Jensen said. "And besides, now you won't have to leave your dogs every so often. Imagine how happy they'll be to have you roll around on the floor with them for that much longer."
Jared was still laughing, but now he wanted to cry. This was too much to take in, everything. He just wanted to go to sleep or something, and he wanted to stay asleep for a couple of years, wait for everything to blow over. He didn't know what he would do if he was alone, even with Eric he didn't think he'd have been able to make it.
"And it looks like I don't have to leave you, huh?" he asked suddenly.
Jensen's shoulders seemed to tense, and his ears reddened. A sudden swelling in Jared's chest seemed to occur, as he thought about the first time he'd met Jensen, the first time he'd made the older man blush like that.
"Guess not," Jensen said shortly, giving Jared an embarrassed little smile over his shoulder.
Jared paused, and he fidgeted with the sheet draped over him. He swallowed against the dry lump in his throat, and he shrugged one of his shoulders.
"Last Thursday," he said, "When we went out. When I brought you back to my place, and you said that it must get lonely?"
"Yeah."
"It does." Jared's voice seemed to crack, but he didn't care. "It gets really lonely there. That's why I have my dogs." He paused again. "You're...welcome any time, you know? If you want to spend the night or anything."
"Well it's a pretty big place," Jensen said slowly. "I could always...move in."
"Yeah." Jared bit his bottom lip. "I think I need you now more than ever."
Jensen turned his whole body this time, his green eyes meeting Jared's and holding them. They looked at each other for what felt like ages, and one of Jensen's hands came to rest over one of Jared's -- not in a sappy way though, almost casual.
"I'll be there," Jensen said. "And I have an idea."
NEXT.