5 Meadowlark (O Happy Bird!)

[askellington]

Justin
"Okay, I have got to ask again, Baby. Why do you paaaay, when you could be knee-deep in free dick, you gorgeous idiot?"

"Because like I've told you a million times, I'm not looking for relationships," Justin drops his pants, pulls off his tie and slides his shirt off, letting that hit the floor. "And I don't have time to look for someone and hope they feel the same." he slides his thumbs into the waistband of his leopard-print briefs and pushes them down. "And I'm not into cruising the scene and picking through the trash for gems."

Justin steps out of the puddle of his clothes.

"I mean, here you are, fucking hot as hell, built, healthy, an' not looking for anything but the two bills I leave on the table. Smart enough to be good with what we've got here, which is." He leans over Jared on the bed, and kisses him, sliding his lips gently from mouth to ear, sucking softly on Jared's earlobe in a way that sends him before continuing, "a great financial agreement."

"A girl could get a complex," Jared snickers, and Justin just snorts, continues dropping tiny kisses around the shell of Jared's ear, stopping to flick his tongue inside, then skipping down to his neck, latching on and teasing a light bruise into his skin. He's not out to make Jared work to turn pain into sex; Justin is careful, respectful, always asks Jared if he likes what he's doing. God, Jared loves that about him.

Justin climbs onto the bed and bends over Jared to run his open mouth over Jared's dick. "Fuck, this thing is pretty as hell, and big, love that."

He licks, flicks his tongue over Jared's balls, sucks lightly again, works his tongue against the seam and rubs his thumb against Jared's taint as he does it. Jared jerks, levers his hips up and shimmies. Justin laughs, the punk. He sucks wetly on his own thumb and slides it into Jared's asshole.

"Fuu-uck." Did he say Justin was a punk? Justin is a genius, oh, and a sweetheart, and "Oh! Oh!" He's just fucking nailing that spot, over and over, and practically swallowing Jared's dick as he does it. Seriously, genius.

Jared tosses his head back and gives into the feeling completely. Damn, there's nothing like a client who spends all day wearing the suit society insists on, faking their real self until they can finally let it go. And unlike Tom, who blames Jared for pulling his uptight, puckered ass out of the closet, and Jeff too, the asshole, Justin knows the closet is all his own issue, and Jared, he's just there because Justin pays him to be there.

He opens his eyes so he can watch Justin wrap a hand around Jared's dick and lick him like a lollipop, the fucking tease, and reach the other hand behind himself and work like, all those fingers at once into his ass. Elbow pumping, drooling and groaning over Jared's dick until the vibrations almost make him cry it feels that fucking good, and Justin looks that fucking hot.

"Killing me, Justin!"

"Yeah, yeah, ready now," he says and backs away so Jared can pull himself up against the headboard. He reaches for the rubber he tucked under the pillow earlier, and rolls it down, making a big production of it and ends with a wink. "All for you."

"Grrrwwr," Justin purrs or growls, and does this slinky, cat-like move over his body, like a panther…actually, Jared decides, more like cartoon panther.Oh God. He bites his lip, struggling to hold in a laugh. Justin looks up at the little choked noise Jared's making-"Oh, shut the fuck up," he says, "you know it looks drop dead sexy."

Jared finally bursts out laughing, "You look like the Pink Panther," he hoots.

"Oh my god, bitch, don't fucking make me lose my hard on," Justin laughs back.

Jared narrows his eyes and licks his lips. "Not on my watch, baby."

Justin snorts again-he's grinning as he scoots his way upwards, stopping when his knees are on either side of Jared's chest, He paints precome on Jared's lips, rubbing lightly back and forth until Jared opens and swallows him. Justin curses low and hoarse and lunges forward. His dick rides over Jared's tongue almost into his throat; Jared gags trying to breathe around it and he tears immediately, nostrils desperately flaring to fill his lungs. Justin grunts out something of an apology. He pulls back before Jared can stop him-Justin knows he's kind of into it. But Justin just shakes his head, scoots backwards and drops the hell down on Jared's dick.

"Fuck!" The both of them bark out in tandem, and Justin struggles to pull a few brain cells together, enough to squeak, "Jinx!"

"Oh my god, you dumb fuck," Jared laughs and then groans long and loud as Justin sets up a pretty quick pace, practically forcing Jared to come, the bastard. And then unloads all over Jared's chest and abs, a bit even hits his chin. He's gonna pay for that. Like, literally. There's a tip in Jared's future.

Justin opens his eyes, exhales long and loud. He drags his fingers through his come, smearing it into Jared's skin, making Xs and Os. He meets Jared's eyes and snickers.

Jared groans, and shoves him back. "Gross. Giant goofball." He grabs the sheet, uses it to scrub Justin's come off himself, then throws it in Justin's face.

"Ahh-ah,"Justin grins. "You know you like it when I get a little freaky."

"I like the tip afterwards," Jared huffs. "Now you have to feed me."

Justin peels off Jared, and sways to the bathroom. At the door, he stops, shimmies and winks. "I love Friday night," he says, and Jared just laughs.

After his shower, Justin asks Jared to order something from room service. They smoke a joint while they wait, then eat steak and baked potatoes in bed, and Jared listens to Justin describe the latest engineering project his group's working on, a way to fill pill bottles faster and more accurately. It's actually kind of interesting, Jared thinks, especially given that Justin's still naked and when he's enthusiastic about something his whole body moves in a way that's nice.

Over dessert, a slice of chocolate cream pie that they share, Jared tells him he's finally going to graduate soon, but he's still not certain where his commercial arts degree is going to take him. Maybe ad work? Or teaching, he likes kids. Teaching little minds the joy of creating and all. Justin tells him he'll ask around, that he's sure there are people he knows who'd be willing to help. “People tend to want to do what I ask them to-except for you,” he growls at Jared, who snickers and dabs a bit of creamy chocolate on the pointy tip of Justin's cute nose.

They pass bites of pie between them, Justin assaulting Jared with ridiculous jokes, and then Justin goes quiet and asks, "So, ah, what about…?" He makes a 'me and you' gesture between them.

"Ah. Well, babe, leaving the game was always my goal."

Justin sighs and nods. "Of course," he says, and licks the fork tines and gives Jared a big, theatrically lascivious wink. "But damn, I'll miss you when you're gone."

He drops the fork into the plate; he almost looks shy. Jared raises his eyebrows; shy is something Justin has never been. Before he can ask what's wrong, Justin stutters out, "S-say, uhm…we can get together without fucking, right? I mean, I'd dig just hanging out with you. Is that possible? Like, can we…shit, Jare, you're more like, ah, you're kind of my friend," Justin laughs, blushing pink in embarrassment. "You and Chad."

"Oh my gaaawd, you poor fucker," Jared crows." Your best friends are a pimp and a hustler! No, wait," he jumps to his knees and ruffles his hair, strikes a sexy pose and whispers huskily, "Le escort."

"You asshole!" Justin wacks him in the chest and Jared falls back laughing, grabs Justin and pulls him down with him.

"Seriously, I'm happy you think of us as friends. Me and Chadawocky, the Littlest Pimp."

"Shut up!" Justin laughs along with Jared, "God, I'm pathetic." But he looks pleased as hell and his eyes are sparkling, and he's got such a bright grin that Jared pulls him in for another hug. He's thinking about Jensen though, and wonders if Jen thinks he's a friend too. Or if Jensen can understand that a guy like Justin, a client, can be just a friend.

After Justin leaves, Jared strips the bed, his brain full of Jensen. He wonders if sex with Jensen would be anything like this. He knows it wouldn't be like Jeff, or Tom, god. He tries to picture Jensen, how huge and astonished those green eyes of his can look whenever he gets him comfortable enough to drop some of those guards of his.

Jared crams the used pillow cases into the laundry bag with an extra punch. All this thinking of Jensen is a pretty pointless exercise; Jensen's not the kind of guy to fuck anyone as long as his wife is in the picture. Poor boy, he's such an idiot. His wife moved on a while ago, and Jared has a feeling she knows Jensen isn't as straight as he wants to be. Jensen, though, keeps wanting to hang on to his life as it is. Not out of love, Jared doesn't get that feeling from him at all. Maybe he's fond of her, but it's not love keeping him there, nope.

He tucks the pillows into fresh cases, then pulls clean sheets on, straightens them, tosses the covers back on and straightens them too. What's keeping Jensen with his wife? Could be habit, maybe. Fear of the unknown. He fluffs a pillow and drops it onto the bed. No, no, it's a shield, that's what's keeping Jensen with her. He pounds the other pillow and drops that in place. The marriage is a shield against Jensen's fear of being queer, being outed. Or, it's a shield against his folks who, he's willing to bet, are just as bad as his own folks are. They just haven't had a reason to show Jensen how bad yet.

He shoves the used linens in the bag, grabs a fresh towel and shoves Justin's used ones in the bag as well, and drops down on the bed. "Shit," Jared mutters. Jensen's life is knotted up with fear. Of himself, fear of his losing parents; Jensen's so afraid, he'll stay living with that, that, woman until his parents die or he's old and gray and knocking on heaven's door himself. It's a miracle the guy will step out of his box long enough to take lunch with him, Jared thinks. Wild. Jared snorts softly and heads towards the bathroom. Hell, maybe the only reason they do lunch is because Jensen doesn't know how to say no to Jared either.

Jared takes a hot shower, smiling a little as he thinks about someone who knows what they want Jared to be to them. Justin was cute, with his plea to be friends. That thought leads back to Jensen, and how much he doesn't want Jensen as just a friend, and how he's pretty sure it's a mutual thing, but life being what it was, he's stuck in idle until Jen breaks through that flimsy closet door.

After the world's fastest shower, Jared throws fresh clothes on. He picks up his beautiful BITCH belt and rubs his thumbs over the buckle, lifts it to his lips. Eyes closed, he decides. he's going to confront Jensen. Will it be too much? Will Jensen bolt? He fishes through his travel makeup bag, tosses the condoms and lube in. Gives the room a critical eye and nods.

He calls Chad. "All done. Come get me, honey-buns."



Dinner had been nice, but the sf movie they'd seen this evening had been awesome. The special effects were amazing. He's definitely going to catch Star Wars again. Maybe with...Jensen mentally shakes his head, redirecting his thoughts.

He wished Jeanette had liked it more, but appreciated that she'd let him choose and hadn't argued it, had sat through the showing smiling vaguely at him whenever excitement made him squeeze her hand. They'd even gone to a play earlier in the month-a local production-and enjoyed it. These were the types of things they'd used to do before increased workloads and…other things made them drift apart. Jeanette's doing her best, since they'd both decided to examine this, this thing they called their relationship. Clarity, that's what they needed. Even if deep down it feels like a last-ditch effort. There's nothing about who they are together that's comfortable.

They're home, hanging up their coats, putting away their shoes. Jensen makes them drinks, Jeanette's favorite Tom Collins, Jensen a coke and rum, and they settle on the couch. Jensen pretends to ignore that there's a distance between them that he and Jared don't have. He subtly shoves a pillow between his back and the unyielding armrest.

Thanking Jensen quietly, Jeanette picks up her drink and sips. "It's good, as always. Jensen," she says, and a few minutes later, startles him by asking, "Do you remember college?"

Jensen looks at her in surprise, the cubes in his glass clink together as he sits straighter. "What? Well, yes. Sure." He laughs weakly. "It wasn't that long ago, y'know." She continues, barely acknowledging Jensen's remark. "I remember the first time I saw you. We were outside, at Gary's place, the last, big party of the season before we all headed back to university. I was sitting poolside, me and a couple of

girlfriends. We were a little-heck, maybe a lot-tipsy, draped over the beach chairs and rating all the guys there, laughing…" she shook her head.

"We were so young. I was laughing, only half-paying attention to them when I looked up and saw you. You looked like a Greek god, like Apollo. Like Ganymede. The sun was shining on you, and you still had all that blonde in your hair, and you were smiling at a friend of yours, a beautiful guy, too, and I fell, oh my god, I fell so hard. I never thought I had a chance at all, though. I never thought I was your type," she laughed ruefully. "I should have paid attention to my instincts."

Jensen blushes, embarrassed, unsettled. What Jeanette said didn't feel like a compliment. It felt more like, like, an accusation. Jensen rubs his face, swallows hard. He remembers that day, remembers everything about it.

He replies, "I remember meeting you. I remember thinking that with a girl like you, everything in my life would just fall into place, that all I needed was to convince you of the same."

"Really? Did you?" She sounds unconvinced, but after a moment, she smiles-it looks a little sour to him. "After you wandered away from the pool, I went inside to see if I could find you. I wandered around and around that horrible, ostentatious pile of a house, hoping I'd see you." She shook her head. "I was so foolish."

Jensen bites his lip, unsettled by her tone of voice, hell, the whole tone of this conversation. "Well, like you said, we were all really young, weren't we? And doing a lot of foolish things comes with the territory," Jensen says and shrugs.

Jeanette makes a soft sound, not agreeing, not disagreeing, takes their empty glasses and walks away from him. He can hear the clink of ice cubes hitting glass, the faint glug of liquid. She walks around towards him and hands him another glass, scotch.

"You know that's not what I mean. When I saw you the first time that evening, you didn't see me at all. Me, the girls-we were invisible. When I saw you the second time you were coming out of a bathroom with that friend of yours, the Zeus to your Ganymede. You looked...terrified. You were paper white and almost in tears."

Jensen felt violently ill. He remembered, despite years of pushing any recollection of that day away, ignoring any of the bits and pieces that flashed into his mind at inopportune moments of the day. That day, the incident. What happened hadn't exactly been unwanted, but it hadn't really been wanted either.

"I should have walked away then," she said, "but I thought that maybe I could save you. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe you just needed a steady companion, a good woman to look after you."

"I-I-I love you. I married you."

"You love me? Maybe. It seems we don't love each other enough, though. When I realized that you would always only be halfway here, I thought, why bother? Why tie each other down? Why have children, why make it impossible to leave?"

"Do you. What the fuck-have you deliberately held back all these years? I kept looking for more, thinking there should be more, but you'd already decided that you weren't going to give it?"

"Oh, looking, Jensen? How long has it been since you've looked, really looked for it? Hasn't there always been a little piece of you that was glad of that? Are you really unhappy that we can walk away from each other so easily? You're-" She stopped and peered at Jensen. "You're guilty. God. What have you done, Jensen? You've given in to that twisted, dirty part of yourself, haven't you? Your father was right to doubt you, you…". She slammed her glass down on the coffee table and glared at him. "Can't you be a man about anything?"

Jensen sat frozen in his seat. Be a man….

Jensen hears it: the door slamming, his father's emphatic footsteps on the wooden stairs leading down to the laundry room, the stairs he'd been under when he'd caught the two of them.

Jensen's been crouched there in the gloom curled over himself and terrified. His dad's face when he saw Boyd, how he'd grabbed him by the arm and marched him up the stairs and Jensen had been too terrified to move….

His dad rounds the last stair and yanks Jensen out into the light by his collar, which twists and chokes him and cuts off his air, but he's too afraid to do anything but stumble after his dad.

Dad yanks him over to the tool bench facing the washing machine and dryer. He stares around, his head darting to and fro like a bird of prey searching from one corner to the other, until his eyes land on a bit of plastic hose tossed to one side of the bench. Jensen sees it at the same time his father does and yelps no-he doesn't have to be psychic to know what's going to happen next.

His dad snatches the hose off the bench, raises it over his head. "Be a man," he roars, and brings his hand down, fast, hard. The noise it makes when it hits makes Jensen rear back; his shirt collar cuts his air off again and the splat as the hose hits registers before the needling shock of pain does. And then his dad does it again, over and over and over again.



Chad drives him back to the apartment. He's uncharacteristically quiet, darting little looks at Jared, and guppying like he wants to talk, but he's afraid to. Jared sighs, slumps down in the seat, and decides to let Chad stew on whatever is bothering him.

Zack's lounging in the living room when they come in, music thumping while he sits busily rolling joints on one of their cookie trays. "Hey, boys. JP, in for the night?"

Chad crawls over the back of the futon to drop down next to Zack. "Yeah. Dude, Zack, talk to your damn roommate. Tell him to hang up his heels before he ends up giving five dollar sucks at the truckstops.

"Whaat! Fuck you very much, Chadick!" Jared screams, and Zack shakes his head, lights a joint, sucks hard before passing on to Chad.

"Dude," he starts, whooshes out smoke, "I've been trying to tell him. He's like, so fucking dumb about how fucking lucky he is, and how he needs to get the fuck out before things finally do go wrong an' he gets hurt or worse."

Jared scoffs. "Oh my god, nothing's going to go wrong. My clients are sweethearts; well, most of them, and my one-offs are tolerable. I mean, look at me." Jared smirks, flexes his arms. "Laced and made up or not, who's going to fuck with me? And I'm not dumb. I haven't been to a clinic since I was a baby in the streets. I know what I'm doing." He leans over the coffee table and snatches the joint from Chad's lips, tokes and squeaks out, "Besides, started telling 'em I'm about to retire. Talked to Tim, to Justin, and all the one-offs know not to bother calling no more."

"Thank fuck," Chad says over Jared's whoosh of breath. "What did that jerkoff Morgan say?"

"Well, um. I haven't actually told him yet," Jared mumbles, and suddenly finds the posters over the futon completely fascinating.

"Jared! Now tell me again you're not afraid of him!" Chad shouts, startling Zack so much he fumbles the jay and sparks fly up all over.

Jared smacks frantically at his legs, frowning, kinda pissed at Zack that his best pair of tights now have pinholes burnt into them. "I'm waiting for the right time, Chad." he snaps, then mutters, "Sheesh, don't bite my head off."

But that's not good enough for Chad. He jumps up and stomps around the living room. Jared and Zack both have to twist back and forth to watch him.

"No, you know what, I don't want you talking to him alone anyway. When you tell that bastard, I'm gonna go with you. What?" he snaps at an eye-rolling Jared.

"Chad. Chadbacca. I have no idea what issue you have with Jeff, but as God is my witness, he has never laid a hand on me that I haven't agreed to. He's never hurt me." Jared pauses, with the joint half-way to his mouth, his eyebrows quirked. Okay, Jeff hadn't ever hurt him, not really. He could maybe get a little over-enthusiastic from time to time, but never meant to really hurt him. It was never anything that lasted long.

Chad reaches over the back of the futon and snatches the joint from Jared's lips, breaking up his fragile train-of-thought.He squints at Jared, ferociously scowling all the while he inhales. "I just don't get a good vibe from that motherfucker." He snarls, and pinches the roach.

"Seems like you need some push to get out of the game, JP. Maybe you should talk about this to that hot Jensen guy," Zack says. "He seems smart. Plus, he likes you." He heaves to his feet and wanders off to the kitchen. "I'm hungry. You guys want some grilled cheese?"

"Talk to Jensen about what," Jared calls out to him. Looks at Chad and repeats at a lower level, "Why should I talk to Jensen?"

"Man, just shut up an' let me put my feet up." Chad shoves and pokes Jared until he reaches some ultimate comfort level for Chad, who then plants his stocking feet in Jared's lap. He thinks about shoving him off, then decides it's too much trouble, and they're kinda warm and the way his toes curl over Jared's thighs are actually kind of nice. His head is rolling against the futon's back, there's something weird on the TV that he can't quite put together. He feels so soft and warm that maybe he's gonna fall asleep, when Chad's voice knocks him out of his comfy place.

"Wish you two'd stop fuckin' dancing 'round each other. Dude's great, a great guy. Know how I know? 'Cause he doesn't care how you make your money-rare as fuck-an' he gets life ain't about Cinderella's glass pumpkin coach-oh, shut up," he snaps at Jared, who's snickering, "Glass pumpkin coach" under his breath.

Jared gives him the ' look', the round-eyed, innocent one, murmuring "Gosh, what'd I do now?"

"Spare me the face. You're about as innocent as Damien." Chad rolls his eyes, smacks him in the chest before Jared can dodge the hit. "You know what I mean," Chad nags on. "Take steps, grow up. Seize your man."

Seize my man. Okay, that's a dramatic note, Jared thinks, and as if the universe wants to underscore it, there comes a hammering at the door, loud enough to piss off other tenants on the floor; a breath later he hears, softly, tentatively, "Jared?"

It takes a minute before it registers just who it is whispering at his door. Oh my fucking stars, what in the world is Jensen doing here?

It's so unexpected that Jared freezes. He's swept with the strangest feeling; he just knows that whatever is about to happen now is bigger than anything that's happened to him the last five years. This is going to change everything.

Sweeping Chad's feet off him, fumbling past the futon, Jared stumbles to his feet, shakes his head to try and order his jumbled thoughts.

He walks like a dancer to the door, in precisely placed steps. He stops, inhales deeply, and lets it out in a whisper under his breath, "OhgodOhgodOhgod." He clasps the doorknob, turns it slowly, then swings the door wide.

"Rats!" Jensen stumbles over the threshold like some sit-com character. He grabs Jared's arm to steady himself and then looks up at him. Jared actually gasps out loud. This is a Jensen he doesn't know. This Jensen is a mess; wild and un-put together, and Jared has no idea what the hell's going on, but it's obvious Jensen is not in a good place.

He's in faded blue sweatpants, beat-up sneakers, and Jared's first thought is "Wow, this boy is cowboy bow-legged." Which, okay, dumb-it's not like Jared didn't know he was bowlegged, but in the pricey dress pants Jensen always wears, it's not as obvious, not like it is in these sweatpants. They're so worn, they'd probably feel like velvet under his hands. There's a little hole right above Jensen's knee that keeps drawing Jared's eye.

"Shit," he mutters. Get hold of yourself, bitch, this man is in distress and you're drooling over a tiny square of exposed skin. He can make out a college logo on the chest of Jensen's ragged, paint-spattered hooded sweatshirt. Jared would bet anything that he's wearing comfort clothes; the sort that are old and familiar and the first thing you reach for when you feel like shit. Jared used to have stuff like that, when, before. Now, all his stuff is rotting in a landfill somewhere.

Jensen's hood is pulled up like it's winter, and the hair peeking out from under is limp, greasy, and messily parted to either side of his forehead. Honestly, the poor man looks like he hasn't bathed in a couple of days-in fact, he looks like he's been sleeping in his car. Jared ignores the uncomfortable sense of deja-vu and reaches out to pull Jensen into the living room.

Meanwhile, Chad's watching all this with an expression Jared can't quite figure out. Zack comes out of the kitchen with a plate piled high with grilled cheese sandwiches. He pauses, eyes Jared's fingers twisted in Jensen's sleeve, Jensen apparently finding his sneakers fascinating, and Chad, frozen in place.

"Oh! Oh, unh. Chad, whyncho come on in my room," he says, because Zack's smart and concerned and not an asshole like Chad, who's still on the futon, gawping at Jensen like he has no plans to move from the show. "We can scarf these down, check the boob tube, and y'know," he hisses at Chad, "stop being fucking nosy parkers."

Jared shoots his wonderful roommate Zack a grateful look. "Jen, let me go rake a quick pathway through the stuff in my bedroom, and then we can sit and talk. If you want to." Jared softly strokes Jensen's rough cheek. He hasn't even shaved, poor shit. Jared frowns, certain that Jen falling apart like this has to do with the bitch. Jared crosses mental fingers-hopefully, god willing, Jensen has finally figured out oil and water don't mix.

When Jared comes back to the living room, Jensen is still statue-still by the futon, head down, until Jared comes to stand beside him.

"Jensen, do you want to talk? About whatever's wrong?"

Jensen rocks back on his heels, and draws a hand down the back of his neck. "I...what makes you think that?"

"Oh, sweetbuns, you never just show up-I practically need to send you an engraved invitation. Come on over here, and you can tell your fairy godmother everything." Jared swings around the futon, sits and pats the space next to him with a smile, trying to appear as supportive and non-threatening as possible. He exhales softly as Jensen gingerly sits and, after a few seconds, slides the hoodie off. Goodness, Jared thinks, this poor boy hasn't seen a shower in a few days.

"Jeanette and I…talked. Seems she's been much less lonely than I've been-" Jared jerks at that, but Jensen doesn't notice. "She's been having an affair," he says. His voice, his expression is flat and toneless, like he's totally unaffected. Jared bites his lip. He knows how much that isn't true.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, that we wasted so much time trying to hold something together that should never have been. I'm sorry I was so weak that it screwed up her life and mine, for too long a time. She moved out." Jensen shrugged. "So, that's that."

Jared can't help but stare at Jensen in sympathy. He knows what it's like to have the bottom drop out of the world.

"I feel like an asshole even telling you about my problems."

"Anh-unh. Nope. You are not an asshole. Tell you what, let's go to my room. Did you eat? We'll order in some Chinese and, and just, I don't know, watch TV, listen to music, just kinda chill out."

"That sounds good. It's not like I have anywhere else I have to be," Jensen's smile is twisted, definitely not amused. "But what about you? No clients?"

Jared can tell that Jensen wants to say it light and unconcerned, but there's a note to his voice, a slight, bitter tinge. He tilts his head and peers at him like that'll help him see into Jensen's head-is he jealous? Jared kind of thinks so.

"No, baby. Free and clear."

"Well alright then," Jensen taps his hand, then curls their fingers together and tugs on Jared's hand until he follows. He thinks about it and decides he kind of likes Jensen taking the lead. In the kitchen, Jared hunts through the menus Zack's piled on top of the fridge. "Sweet and sour ribs, fried rice, and soup for two?"

"Yeah, okay. And almond cookies."

Food ordered, holding hands again, they head back to Jared's room, passing Zack in the hallway on his way out.

"Don't wait up, JP. Not that I think you're worried about me," he grins and looks at Jensen. He totally thinks that Jen doesn't see the huge, lascivious wink he gives Jared, and Jared just pushes him down the hall.

"Go, get laid. Don't tell me about it."

Chad passes too. "Ugh, don't tempt him. No one wants to know about college boy boring sex. Talk to you later, Jared. Remember what I said."

Once they're in Jared's room, he nudges Jensen towards a director's chair. "Sit! We'll be ready in a minute!"

So Jensen sits and pulls his fingers up into the sleeves of his sweatshirt and watches Jared cover his bed with a buffalo-check blanket. "It'll be like a picnic," he says with a wink, and plops a tray in the middle of it, and a bottle of wine. Jensen raises an eyebrow at Jared's tiny bar, and Jared just laughs harder when Jensen mutters, "Boy scout."

Jared grabs a couple more pillows to toss on his bed, and by the time the food arrives, he's built a nice little nest and makes Jen spread out in the middle, shoes off and hoodie tossed in the corner. He's got a really nice t-shirt on, but what Jared notices most is that it's tight across the shoulders, and curves around Jen's biceps like it's in love with him. It's loose around the waist, riding up to expose a silky-smooth expanse of skin. Mmm, definitely not rock-hard abs, but on Jensen, it just seems perfect.

Jensen sighs, sounding so content, and Jared watches as his eyes drift closed. Oh, my dear. Jared can't stop looking down on Jensen, smiling at him because he looks so damn sweet, the way his lashes sweep his cheeks, and his mouth looks sweeter and fuller as he relaxes. If not for the purple smudges under Jen's eyes, poor thing, he'd look like a little teen baby on his bed. Jared tosses his head, and a wicked grin narrows his eyes. "Umm, teen baby twink." He mutters, then slaps himself softly on the hand. "Ah-ah-ah, he didn't come here for that, y'hear?"

Jensen meanwhile is curled around a pillow, eyes closed, breathing soft and gentle so that Jared's pretty sure he's halfway to sleep. Taking advantage of it, Jared strips down in his room to change, and since he has the time, adds a touch or two just to make himself feel pretty. He squints and twirls, and fluffs his hair just right, and only when it's perfect does he nudge Jensen out of his drowsy state.

"Oh!" Jensen giggles-giggles!-when his eyes ease open, then widen. Jared's wearing his favorite at home lounging outfit, a beautiful, silky kaftan covered with a glorious peacock feather pattern: green and teal and a deep royal blue. He even has a flower tucked behind his ear, a sunflower, silk of course. For some reason Jensen does a little double take at seeing it. Jared swirls, knows how the kaftan material flows around him and clings like a lover to some parts of him, slides over others. Judging by the way Jensen flushes, he's seeing Jared just how he'd hoped to be seen.

"Cat got your tongue? Or are you just not used to a man in a dress, Baby?"

"That's not it at all. Hell, seems like half the models out there are really boys. Who cares?" Jensen shakes his head. "No, I'm not used to seeing someone so beautiful; you with your gorgeous sunflower eyes."

Jared laughs nervously as his fingers skate quickly across the fake sunflower before dropping to curl in the silk of the kaftan. He's startled and a little shook at how honestly Jensen had said that, so for both their sakes, he plays it off as a small joke.

"Don't you dare flatter me like that, you rake, you'" For some reason, that makes Jensen burst into belly laughs, and if the sight of him giggling was adorable, him full on laughing was, well, kind of hot and fun.

They watch a few comedies on Jared's tiny TV, then a cheesy cop show. They absolutely kill the Chinese, wolfing it down like famished stevedores, Jensen practically licking the cardboard. Jared wonders just what Jensen's been doing the last few days since it's obvious Jen hasn't been eating.

Along with the fried rice and ribs, they share a bottle of cheap wine that Jensen swears is delicious and just perfect with the sweet and sour ribs.

"Vintage? What vintage, we don't need no stinkin' vintage!" Jared crows, and they kill the bottle. Maybe two bottles. Definitely the wine got better as they went along. They finish off dinner with a few almond cookies, a favorite of Jared's, then smoke some pretty decent hash.

As the evening wears on, Jen loosens up. He relaxes more, the troubled little furrow between his eyes smoothing out. At some point, Jared finds himself in Jensen's lap, just snuggling, nothing more. Passing the pipe to Jensen, Jared tsks when Jensen tries to inhale. He's managed it a couple of times, but this time, he gags a bit and hacks the smoke right out.

"Wait a minute." Jared tips Jensen's chin down, runs a finger gently over his lips and says, "Open, Baby."

Jensen jerks. If Jared hadn't practically been plastered to him, he'd never have known. Okay, he thinks, and stashes that bit of reaction away to examine later. Right now, he's watching Jensen's lashes flutter as his eyes close, and the way he flushes but opens his mouth right away. Sucking in smoke, Jared cups Jensen's cheek and huffs a thick stream of it, like a dragon, into Jensen's mouth. Doesn't work, the poor baby just can't get the smoke down. Jensen tries, he really does, but as much smoke wreaths round his face as goes inside.

"Stop?" Jared asks but Jensen shakes his head no. Jared sighs. He pulls on the little pipe, sucks a little more smoke in. "Gonna touch your lips, 'sat okay?"

Jen nods, looking a little scared but also, kind of anticipating, like a puppy being offered a treat. Jared presses their mouths together. It almost instantly goes to more, deeper. Jared's a little embarrassed that his caftan is starting to tent like it is, just from touching the boy's lips. The smoke trails out between the two of them, Jared totally forgetting the point of what they were doing, instead falling into kissing those warm, plush, lips.

Jen, the wicked bitch, runs his palm over Jared's steadily thickening dick, rubbing the smooth, soft material over the crown. "Silky," he mutters and somehow seems to concentrate on swirling his thumb right over the head of Jared's dick, fascinated, it seems, with how quickly it starts to get wet. "Wow," Jensen whispers softly, running his fingers around the crown, the silk not stopping his fingers and thumb from gripping lightly. Jared bites his lips to keep from groaning, but his dick practically lurches at the touch, and Jensen breathes an awestruck, "Wow" again.

"God." Jared rolls his eyes at himself because he doesn't want to do what he's about to do next, but he has to. He sets aside the pipe, and curves his fingers around Jensen's warm, firm chin. It's for the best, it's for Jensen. For Jen. Jared started this, with the lamest bit in the books, and he really should put the brakes on it, for now.

He leans close, meaning to tell Jensen that, and Jensen meets him immediately in a kiss. Jared hmms in pleasure, kisses him, sucks the taste from his tongue and Jensen bucks up, pulling Jared closer-oh shit, okay, right, he's supposed to be keeping the lid on.

"Jen, baby, let's maybe slow this down a bit, it's probably too soon, we ca-shouldn't. You just split with your wife, you haven't even had a chance to think about what's next."

"All I've been doing is thinking. It's been days, longer, and what I think is she's probably fucking her boss right now and that's really okay. Right now, this here, god, this is all about me and, and you. Fuck anyone else."

There's a part of Jared that feels horribly guilty. He can't help feeling that he maybe was the catalyst for all this, and what if he's about to ruin Jensen's life? But then Jensen looks up at him with those beautiful, green eyes of his and the sweetest smile full of promises. Jared fights the battle-for a few seconds anyway-before shrugging and looping his arms around Jen's neck.

"You tell me when to stop, okay? I'll stop the very second you feel unsure, promise."

Jensen drops his eyes, he bites the curve of his lower lip, and then says soft and serious like he's in confession, "I kissed a boy before…and, and, there was this one time, that I did more."

"More, hunh? Well, how 'bout we just stick with kissing, okay? And if you feel you're ready, I mean really ready, Jensen, you'll tell me you're okay with it. Out loud, Jen, whole words, baby," Jared whispers against his cheek, when all Jensen does is gulp and swallow.

Jensen's answer, when it comes, is breathy, a little shaky with nerves, but, "Yeah, okay. Yes," he says. They kiss, a neat press of lip to lip at first, quickly morphing into lazy, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, licking at each other until they're wet, and shiny. Jared moans, sucking Jensen's lower lip into his mouth, pulling until Jensen squirms and pushes at him. Jared lets it slide from his grip, taking in every second of sensation like how smooth, and soft, how it gives under the pressure of his teeth. He's so careful not to break skin but makes sure Jensen feels it. Fuck it's like a ripe peach.

It's not long after that Jensen is throbbing under him, twisting, trying to yank the caftan out of the way, muttering "this is okay, right, it's good, right?" Jared shows him that it is by sliding the caftan up and over his shoulders. Jensen freezes. Jared, naked to the world and all, is sitting on Jensen's extremely hard dick.

Jensen stares for so long that Jared starts to mini-panic inside. Should he stop? Oh no, it was too much, he broke Jensen, oh fuck-but before he can get off his lap, Jensen begins to wiggle and shimmy at which point Jared nearly levitates off the bed before he realizes that Jen's just trying to get his his sweat pants down, which he does, shoving them down his hips, pulling them under his ass. And then, he touches Jared.

"Jared, Jare…so big. Pretty," Jensen says, and his fingers tremble as they touch Jared's bare skin, rubbing precome around the crown. His face is a picture of concentration as he presses gently against the slit until it pouts open, and a spill of precome coats Jensen's fingers. He makes this tiny, surprised noise before lifting them to his mouth and pushing them in, sucking.

Jared's not sure, but he thinks he might have died momentarily. "Oh fuck, fuck, Jen, oh shit."

Jensen looks lost, reaches out with his other hand and draws it down Jared's bare belly. "I want to-to-I don't know what to do."

"Let's do this, just this tonight. "Jared wraps his hand around the both of them, and as soon as they touch, Jensen yelps like he's electrocuted. Jared understands. The heat, the weight of Jensen against him is mind-blowing. It felt like he'd been waiting a thousand years for this.

Jen's hands shoot out, and Jared prepares to let go thinking Jen's changed his mind, but Jensen grabs his wrists, slides his hands up Jared's arms and holds on tight as Jared resumes-feeling the shift of muscle Jared guesses, and sure enough, Jensen moans, "Your arms, I love the…so, so strong…"

His hands wander higher, touching, squeezing, and then down again, lingering on Jared's chest, his pecs. Just feeling, touching, warm and intimate. Fingers slip over his nipples, too quick to really register, and then settle on his waist. All through Jensen's tentative inspection Jared is jerking them off, slowly, watching Jensen's red, sweating face, his open mouth, gasping, gasping.

Jensen's hips rise and fall, and Jared imagines that Jensen's rising and falling on his dick, holding on tight and begging Jared to fuck him harder, deeper. Jared's getting to that point of no return, his balls drawing tight. Jensen must be too, his dick grows harder against Jared's palm and then come sluices over Jared's grip. Jensen's climax in turn triggers Jared's orgasm. It's almost too much with how good it is. The slide is quicker, faster, it feels so damn good all he can do is shake and moan and pray he's not scaring the shit out of Jen.

It's so wild, kind of messy, and hot as fuck, especially when Jen leans forward and bites into his shoulder to muffle the scream that pours out of him. If anyone had told Jared there would come a point in his life that a guy gnawing on him would actually be a tremendous turn on, he would have laughed his ass off. But this? With Jensen? Jared can hardly believe that this is happening. Or how the feeling makes him fly right out of his body. All he can do is hang on for the ride and the incredible feeling of his skin against Jensen's until Jensen grips his wrist, and stops him with a whispered, "Jared."

Jared gives them one final, gentle, squeeze, and begs for a kiss.

It's perfect. And he knows it is because Jensen tells him so, muttering "perfect" into his shoulder, licking the throbbing bite there; he mutters perfect one last time before pressing a kiss right in the middle of Jared's forehead then drawing back. Jensen's eyes are shining, he's smiling wide and bright, and Jared feels like he's swallowed a nova, he's done, he's overcome. He's not going to say it out loud, god, he may never get a fucking chance to, he's no fool-but he knows, with all his heart, that he loves Jensen. Loves him so much.

Jensen worries him a little though. He's gone from sparkling to sitting still with his hands gripping Jared's hips. His head slowly drops forward to stop on Jared's chest. He's shaking a little but it's not until Jared feels the wet trails on his skin that he gets it: Jensen's crying. Oh shit, he's crying!

Jared pulls back, already apologizing, ready to take the fault of anything, all of it, but Jen shakes his head.

"No, no-it's not you, it's me."

Worse, Jared thinks. "I made you cry?"

"I just…I mean, my whole, almost my whole life I've tried to think of myself one way…I'm kind of scared, Jare. And also thinking how much time I wasted just trying not to be me. I don't want to be that way but this…this is a lot. You know?"

'Of course I know!' Jared wants to shout, but he just holds Jensen in as soft a hug as he can. "I want to tell you it'll be alright, but it's up to you. I think you're perfect and wonderful and special. I hope you can see yourself that way too. I hope, hell, I hope you'll let me help you to get there."

"Fuck, Jare." Jensen laughs, his voice shaky and weak. "You're just…wow. You're the perfect one. Brave, gorgeous. Thank you." Tears are still running down his cheeks and Jared wipes them off.

"Don't thank me, honey. You're the brave one here."

6