Business and Pleasure (J2, Adult) 4/5
Sex with Jared, in fact, is pretty much the best thing that’s ever happened to Jensen.
There’s a moment when they get back to Texas, after he says a bleary goodbye to Jared at the airport and before Jensen crashes into bed to sleep for at least twelve hours, when he wonders if it was a just-in-London or only-overseas type of deal, but any anxiety he’d had vanishes when Jared calls the next afternoon and asks if Jensen’s got any plans for the rest of the day.
“Why, you have something in mind?”
“I was thinking it would be fun to have sex involving a bed for once,” Jared says casually. “But if you’re busy…”
“…I’ll be right there.”
Which is when Jensen learns that sex with Jared is good wherever it happens, but also pretty damn amazing when they’re both sober and concentrating on the task at hand, not worried about indecent public exposure. Being completely naked and horizontal together is a new experience, though one that Jensen intends to repeat as often as possible.
The promise he made to himself after the holiday party near-groping years ago seems pointless now. He didn’t want to sleep with Jared when he knew it would be a one-night stand or a one-week fling, but this - whatever this is between them - is neither. Jared hadn’t slept with anyone else in two months, and he’s not looking for sex with anyone but Jensen now. All the agonizing he did after the night at the club seems ridiculous now - Jared wants him and doesn’t want anyone else, and even if that’s not exactly what Jensen was hoping for, it’s close enough, and he can always hope.
Jensen also discovers that while Jared enjoys sex when it involves a bed, he also has a thing for doing it anywhere but. They spend the weeks after they return from London discovering just how many places they can get each other off in Jared’s apartment, and the number is surprisingly high (Jensen never would have considered the laundry room a sensual place, but after they get distracted while doing laundry, he finds himself with a new appreciation of the spin cycle).
They even end up breaking the rule about professional behavior at the office, after a night of working late somehow turns into a night of testing the durability of Jared’s office furniture. Normally Jensen would draw the line at screwing in the office, but two and a half months with Jared have rendered normality unnecessary and a thing of the past. It’s late, anyway, the building dark and silent, and Jensen’s always sort of had a thing about being bent over Jared’s desk, so when Jared sweeps all the papers off in a dramatic flourish like they’re in some romance novel, he’s pretty much powerless to resist.
He does make it a rule, however, that office sex is only permissible after hours and in a room where the door locks. Jared, predictably, finds a loophole, which is how Jensen discovers that sex in an elevator is surprisingly hot. The elevator itself isn’t a very arousing place, but Jared making it his goal to get Jensen off in ten floors and that second of suspension when they hit the top floor go a long way toward changing Jensen’s mind. Unfortunately, he has to take the elevator every morning, which is really not an appropriate time for his new fondness for it to make itself known.
So, yes, sex with Jared is exciting, adventurous, hot, spontaneous, and often makes Jensen worry he’s going to get fired, arrested, or a brain aneurysm, but strangely enough, it doesn’t change much in their lives, or about their relationship. It’s like discovering they both share an interest in snorkeling, or something - they’re friends and fake-boyfriends before finding out their mutual passion for wearing fins and fish-watching, so it just becomes one more thing they do together. Jensen could probably spend several sleepless nights agonizing over why this is, but it’s really more fun to spend said sleepless nights snorkeling with Jared, so he does.
* * *
Before Jensen knows it, the three-month anniversary of their not-so-fake relationship is only a few days away. It hardly seems like three months have gone by, much less that he’s been dating Jared that long, but the evidence is all around them. They have their own regular table at the restaurant Jared took Jensen to on their first date, and the host greets them both by name. Jared’s friends consider Jensen a regular now, and even though he doesn’t mind being automatically included as Jared’s other half, it’s more than that - they invite him out with them when Jared’s gone on business or has a late meeting, and Sandy calls Jensen for advice on everything from men to manicotti, because she claims Jensen is a) the most organized person she’s ever met, and b) a male version of herself. Half of Jensen’s stuff seems to have migrated to Jared’s apartment, settling into the available space until it looks like it belongs there. Jensen spends most of his nights there, anyway, taking advantage of Jared’s huge bed or Jacuzzi at night and the giant steam shower in the morning. Jared’s dogs treat him like one of the pack, which means they attack him with affection whenever he gets home, disobey whatever commands he gives them, and turn big, hungry eyes on him even after he knows Jared’s fed them, hoping to con a second meal out of him.
Jensen used to play two parts everyday, acting like the proper, platonic assistant at work and the adoring, enamored boyfriend after hours, but now he barely does any acting at all, the lines between the roles blurring so much they’re practically impossible to see. Everyone at the office knows about them, so there’s no need to censor flirtatious glances or casual touches, and Jensen doesn’t have to hide his less-than-platonic urges to jump Jared when they’re alone, so there isn’t much left to pretend. In fact, it’s kind of liberating - being able to be openly affectionate toward Jared, being allowed to touch him and kiss him and throw him down on the bed and ravish him - it’s the most honest Jensen has felt in a long time, the most himself.
And if Jared’s doing any acting on his part, it’s not obvious to Jensen. In fact, other than the fact that he hasn’t admitted he’s in love with Jared, there’s nothing left about their relationship that’s less than totally realistic. And maybe Jared isn’t in love with Jensen, but he feels something for him - something more than friendship, that much is obvious - and Jensen can’t help but think that something could grow and develop if given time.
Jared hasn’t said a word about New York or the three months being up, so Jensen’s thinking it might just be a good idea if he scrapped the whole moving-to-NYC-plan, and instead told Jared how he feels. They’ve both been enjoying themselves so far, so it seems logical that they could just forget about the deadline and keep going with this thing, and just see where it takes them. Even though Jared still seems to have a touch of monogamy phobia, he’s been in a really realistic fake relationship for three months now - it can’t be that hard for him to make the leap from pretend-real to just plain real.
Jensen decides to tell him on the Friday that marks exactly three months, after the dinner date they’ve got planned, but he’s so caught up in nervousness and anticipation that he leaves work on Thursday without remembering to give Jared the updated schedule he’d printed out before leaving. He’s halfway across the parking lot when it hits him, and by the time he gets back inside and up the elevator, it’s been almost twenty minutes. He grabs the schedule from the printer and bursts into Jared’s office, ready with a laugh and explanation for his flaky behavior, but it dies on his lips when his eyes take in the scene in front of him.
Jared’s sitting in his office chair, just where Jensen left him, but instead of the pile of papers in front of him, his attention is on the brunette in his lap. His hand is on her thigh, up under her skirt, and she’s in the middle of giggling at something he said, one delicate hand on his chest and the other tangled in his tie.
Jensen freezes in the doorway, his momentum dying like a hurricane hitting land, and for a second it’s like time stutters to a stop, the three of them stuck in a frame of film. Jensen’s mind absorbs stupid details, like the coat of coral polish on her nails and the way Jared’s hand nearly spans her entire back, still California-browned against the light fabric of her shirt.
Jensen might have stood there for eternity, noticing the smallest details of the tableau, except someone comes around the corner too fast and bumps into him. He looks away for a second as he steadies himself on the doorframe, and when he turns back it’s like the projector has started again and everything is in motion. The girl, whoever she is, is looking at him curiously, and Jared is saying, “Jensen - “ and holding out the hand that was up her skirt in appeal.
Jensen doesn’t know what his line is supposed to be, if he’s supposed to be the jealous shrew or the betrayed lover or even the sketchy guy that just leers and proposes a threesome, so instead he just sets the schedule on the filing cabinet closest to the door and says, “Uh, sorry about that,” as he turns to leave.
He takes the stairs this time, because focusing on the mundane mechanics of placing one foot in front of the other prevents other thoughts, and not because it provides Jared ample time to catch up and explain. He takes a slow, meandering route to his car for the same reason, and if he glances over his shoulder a few times, it’s to check for other cars coming his way. Finally, he gets into the car, and forces himself to face up to the truth: Jared is fooling around with other people, and Jared isn’t going to come after him.
* * *
Jensen goes home and very pointedly does not think about what just happened, sorting through his mail and fixing himself a sandwich for dinner as he watches the six o’clock news. It’s always there in the background, though, no matter how hard he tries to concentrate on roast beef or what the perky blonde anchor is saying about the importance of sunscreen SPF, so he finally turns off the TV, opens a beer, and sits down to confront it.
Four beers later, he still hasn’t figured out how he feels. If he’d anticipated something like this, he’d imagine himself furious or heartsick, either ready to punch Jared or beg him to explain, but now that it’s really happened, he doesn’t really feel very much of anything, only a numbness and vague disappointment, like he’s been expecting to be let down.
And maybe he has. Hell, this is Jared, after all - the idea of him settling down with someone is ridiculous enough to be a joke in a late-show monologue. And Jensen may have been suffering from selective memory when he was hoping Jared returned his feelings, but he’s never truly forgotten. He wants to be angry or upset or even heartbroken, but instead all he feels is stupid. He knows Jared, probably better than almost anyone, and it was stupid to think that one fake relationship with a side of sex would suddenly turn him into a one-man kind of guy. It was stupid to assume that Jared would feel the same. It’s all just stupid, the whole fake-dating thing, and Jensen was stupid to think the sex meant anything, and to let sex happen in the first place. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Jared calls his cell phone somewhere between the second and third beer, but Jensen doesn’t answer. That turns out to be a mistake, because the doorbell rings half an hour later, and when he opens it Jared’s standing there, looking nervous.
“Hey,” he says cautiously, like Jensen’s a land mine waiting to go off if he says the wrong thing.
“Hey,” Jensen replies, leaning up against the doorframe.
“Um. I just wanted to - you didn’t answer your phone, and I came to - Jen, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, it was stupid of me, and I - ”
“It’s fine,” Jensen says, and he barely recognizes the flat, toneless voice as his own.
“I - what?”
“It’s fine,” Jensen repeats. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. It was just a fake relationship anyway, right?”
Jared’s looking wary again, like he’s not sure if Jensen’s lulling him into a sense of false security before exploding. “Jen - “
But Jensen’s tired of it already. “Hey, three months are going to be up in a couple of days. Have you checked into a job in New York at all?”
Jared shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it of confusion. “Uh, no, I haven’t.”
“Could you do that soon?” Jensen asks. “I have to find an apartment, so I’d really appreciate knowing something as soon as possible. I want to move all my stuff moved out there before I start, so it’s not a big hassle.”
“Yeah,” Jared says after a long minute of silence. “Sure. Not a problem.”
“Great.” Jensen gives him a tight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
“Yeah, see you,” Jared echoes. He doesn’t make any move to go, just watches Jensen until the door closes between them.
* * *
Jared keeps his word, and a week later Jensen has an offer from the New York office and turns in his two weeks’ notice. Jared looks like he wants to say something when Jensen makes his formal announcement, but his eyes skate over Jensen’s stiff posture and careful lack of expression, and he merely nods, saying, “It’s going to be hard to replace you.”
By this point Jensen’s well aware that Jared often says things he doesn’t mean, but that turns out to be true. He sits in on the interviews Jared conducts to fill his soon-to-be-vacated position, and even if he and Jared agreed on which candidates are the best suited for the job (Jared tends to favor young women, but there’s no fucking way Jensen’s replacing himself with a flirty twenty-something, so he vetoes everyone under the age of 45), the sad fact of the matter is that most of the applicants pale at the list of responsibilities that Jensen reels off, and none of them inspire enough confidence in their abilities to warrant a second interview.
The interviews are practically the only time Jared and Jensen spend together anymore, and after one particularly strange candidate leaves (after spending ten minutes informing them about her psychic gift that allows her to completely understand her cat in answer to Jared’s query about her communication skills) their eyes meet and they both crack up. It’s only been two weeks, so it’s not surprising that they fall so easily into their usual camaraderie, but it still surprises Jensen, the way sharing a joke with Jared is like a key sliding into a lock, all the tumblers falling into perfect alignment, an easy slide into comfortable and familiar.
Jared’s still laughing when he picks up his clipboard. “I’m going to have to say no to Mrs. Pet Psychic. You?”
“I don’t think I’d trust her to make coffee, much less organize anything,” Jensen says, making a mark to that effect on his own clipboard. “Although I did enjoy the part where she does séances for ‘pets who have passed on,’ that was nice.”
Jared shakes his head. “Man, normally I’d be thrilled about her being an animal lover, but that woman was just cracked. I love my dogs to death, but I also know them - they’re not thinking about their past lives or some spiritual connection, they’re thinking about food or when their next walk is going to be. Hell, they still haven’t figured out that they only get the fancy canned food when I have to mix in bad-tasting medicine. It’s not like they’re dying to have an intellectual discussion with me.”
“That’s just what they want you to think,” Jensen teases. “So when they stage a coup, you’ll be caught completely unprepared.”
“Maybe,” Jared replies, then sighs again. “Well, looks like I’ll have to keep interviewing after you’ve left, then.” He shuffles his papers, not looking up. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay, and put me out of this hiring misery?”
“We still have a couple days,” Jensen says, carefully keeping his voice and expression completely neutral. “I’m sure we’ll find someone.”
They actually do settle on a candidate, which is nothing short of a miracle. She’s a capable, no-nonsense older woman with an impeccable resume and glowing references, which satisfies Jared’s requirements, and Jensen’s pretty sure not even Jared could seduce her (she looks like she might break his hand if he tried) so that satisfies his requirements.
With that taken care of, Jensen spends his last days organizing his desk, labeling binders and sorting folders and gathering up templates and checklists, and separating out the personal items he needs to take home. His last day of work is a Friday, but his first day in New York isn’t for a few more weeks, yet - he wanted some time off to try to get his life together. He still has to pack up his entire apartment (not to mention the half of his wardrobe that’s still at Jared’s apartment, which neither of them have done anything about), make a decision about an apartment in New York City, and somehow say goodbye to his family and friends.
Sandy calls one night while Jensen is staring out the window of his apartment. He doesn’t have a view like Jared, all skyline and broad horizon, but it’s still a view he’ll miss. “Jensen,” she interrupts his greeting, “Chad says that you and Jared broke up, and that you’re moving to New York. I need you to tell me he’s lying, so I can kick his ass.”
“Sorry,” is all Jensen can think to say.
“Okay, then what the hell’s going on?” she asks. “Do I have to kick your ass? Because if you broke up with Jared over something stupid, then I will.”
It was something stupid, and it wasn’t really a break-up at all, but Jensen figures he probably shouldn’t reveal the whole thing now. “We just - it didn’t work out. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it just…wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”
“That’s not an answer; that’s just a vague way of saying nothing,” Sandy says shrewdly. “Did something happen? The ass-kicking is still on offer, if it’s Jared that needs it.”
“No,” Jensen says, laughing a little. “No ass-kicking necessary.” He’s half-tempted to tell her Jared cheated, because he knows he’d get pity and sympathy, but that’s not quite true, and he doesn’t really want to admit that he wasn’t good enough for Jared, at least not out loud. “We just both decided to see other people.”
“Are you sure?” Sandy persists. “Because I know Jared can kind of be an ass, but that’s part of his charm. And he’s crazy about you - I’ve never seen him as head-over heels for anyone else before.” She laughs a little. “Not even me.”
Jensen doesn’t say anything.
“You two are good together,” Sandy presses. “Are you sure you can’t work things out?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Jensen says, something heavy settling into his stomach as he says the words. “We’re just not - it’s not going to work.”
Sandy sighs. “All right, but New York City? You don’t have to go halfway across the country just to get away from him. There’s plenty of room in Houston, we can work it out so you don’t have to see him.”
“I appreciate it, but it’s not that.” Jensen looks out the window again, imagining the view he’ll have from New York - the buildings across the street, probably, metal and glass and pavement. “I’ve actually always wanted to go to New York, this just ended up being the kick in the ass I needed to actually do it.”
“Are you sure?” Sandy asks again.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, then.” Her disappointment is audible over the line. “I’m going to miss hanging out with my male equivalent.”
He grins. “And I’ll miss your always-colorful commentary and the way you have exactly the same sense of humor as me.”
She laughs. “Yeah, you’d better. And don’t think you can replace me in NYC, either. You only get one opposite-gender twin.” There’s a long pause, and the mood drops back to serious again. “Come see me before you leave, okay?”
Jensen assures her he will, then hangs up. He looks out his window at the Houston skyline again, the sun glowing behind buildings and trees brushed with gold, and wonders what he’s really leaving behind.
* * *
On Jensen’s last day at work, Jared throws him a perfunctory going-away party. The balloons and streamers are bright and cheerful, and a colorful banner wishing “Good luck, Jensen!” swings from the ceiling, but the mood of the party is exactly the opposite, and if it wasn’t for the cake and decorations, Jensen might think he’d stumbled into a funeral instead.
People from every department stand around awkwardly in the conference room, knotting into small groups to have hushed conversation over plates of cake and ice cream, and it’s like the entire office has suddenly developed ESP, because they all seem to sense just how thrilled Jensen is not about leaving, and despite the banner, not much well-wishing is actually going on.
Jensen starts out circulating the room, thanking his guests for coming and spending a few minutes chatting with each person, but after a dozen depressing conversations where people ask hesitant, gentle questions and circle shyly around subjects and basically treat him like a fragile vase wobbling on the edge of the Sears Tower, Jensen gives up and hides by the drinks table.
Ella, the AA from Marketing who made Jensen interview for the Executive Assistant job in the first place, finds him there and gives Jensen a hug. As she pulls back, she asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jensen says irritably. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ella just looks at him sadly. “I’m sorry about you and Jared.”
Jensen tries to brush it off. “It’s no big deal. We gave it a try, but it didn’t work out. That’s all.”
“It seemed like it was going so well,” Ella says, wide-eyed with sympathy. “We were all rooting for you. And it was so obvious that Jared just adored you - well, from the way he’s been moping lately, I think he still does.”
When Jensen just snorts, she frowns, poking him in the chest. “And don’t tell me it’s not a big deal. You’ve wanted Jared ever since you started working here. You can’t expect me to believe that after three years of pining, you’re totally fine with being a three-month fling.”
Jensen hates the pity and sadness in her eyes, as well as the fact that she’s totally right. “Yeah, well, it’s over and done now,” he mutters.
Ella sighs, then pats his arm and wanders off. Jensen looks down at his plate of melted ice cream and soggy cake, which are now completely unappetizing, and sighs himself.
* * *
The party doesn’t improve much after that. Seven more people tell Jensen how sorry they are about the breakup, four remark casually on how dejected Jared has seemed lately, and a few are even bold enough to insinuate that Jensen still has time to make it right. After the blue-haired receptionist makes a wink-wink nudge-nudge comment about how therapeutic make-up sex can be, Jensen decides that no amount of recognition is worth this, and gives up on the whole thing.
It was nice of everyone to show up to say goodbye, but the guests seem too busy trying to figure out if Jensen broke up with Jared or vice versa to actually wish him well at his new job, and the gossiping he catches in whispers and out of his peripheral vision is quickly giving him a headache. The depressed atmosphere isn’t helping, and the general attitude of sadness and confusion is overwhelming and too close to what he’s actually feeling to endure.
He thanks everyone for coming, and retreats to his cubicle to pack up a few last things before leaving. He’s just about to take down and pack his desk calendar - 12 months of pasty, potbellied, and bare-ass naked farmers just barely concealing their…equipment…with various farm objects (one is holding a cock over his, well... and another is bent over a weedy patch of land, artfully covered by an old-fashioned watering can sprinkling the plants (and both still wearing tall rubber boots)), courtesy of Jared, naturally, who thinks Jensen a) needs to loosen up more and b) sort of resembles Mr. July (although Jensen points out that he has all his teeth, thank you very much, and has no urge to do that to a tractor) - when Jared comes by. Jared was absent for most of the party, off doing God knows what, and Jensen had half-wondered if his boss would even show up to say goodbye before he left.
Jared leans over the edge of Jensen’s cube, just like he’s done a million times before, but this time he isn’t smiling, and his attitude is more subdued than his usual ebullience. “Hey. Can I see you in my office for a minute?”
Jensen stuffs the calendar into the box he’s packing. “Yeah, sure.”
Jensen follows him the few steps across the hall, then blinks when Jared immediately closes the door behind them. It wouldn’t have been out of place a few weeks ago, or even when their relationship was (mostly) platonic, but with the way things have been between them lately, they’ve been avoiding anything that even hints at intimacy.
Jared doesn’t seem to notice, though, just picks a brightly-wrapped present up from his desk and shoves it at Jensen. “Here. I don’t know if this is - I just wanted to get you something, and maybe you won’t even - well, just open it.” He drops it into Jensen’s hands like it’s too hot to hold, then paces across the room stare out the windows.
Jensen raises an eyebrow at Jared’s uncharacteristic loss for words, but Jared’s back doesn’t hold any answers to his unusual behavior. He undoes the paper slowly, smiling a little at the copious tape and messy corners that tell him Jared did the wrapping himself, instead of paying the store like he usually does.
A book finally falls out of the paper, and Jensen frowns at it for a long moment, puzzled.
“It’s a book of star charts,” Jared says, watching Jensen over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jensen says, thumb sliding over the title on the glossy cover. “I can see that. Um…thanks. I’m just - “
“Not sure why I got it for you,” Jared finishes for him with a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it was kind of a long shot, anyway. Never mind, it was stupid.”
But Jensen can’t just let it go, because there’s something that sounds like disappointment and maybe even hurt in Jared’s voice, and some unnamed part of him aches at the thought that he put it there. “Jared, what - “
“It’s nothing,” Jared says, turning away from the window to lean back against the wall, eyes fixed on his feet. “Just - once you told me that you wanted to see the stars.”
Jensen opens his mouth to deny it, because not only does that not sound like anything he’d ever say, it’s not something he’d ever say to Jared - it’s not like they had the type of relationship where they’d lay in bed and share their hopes and dreams, after all. But then it comes to him - in fits and starts at first, faint snatches of music and conversation, fuzzy recall of feeling. It’s a memory that he’s kept buried for a long time, but the details come flooding back as he lets it wash over him.
It was three years ago, and Jensen had barely been at the company three weeks, still settling in as the AA in the Finance department and trying to learn names. There was one person whose name he knew as well as his own, however, because ever since he’d met the company’s handsome, charming CEO, those simple six syllables had been emblazoned across his brain.
He knew he didn’t have any kind of a chance with Jared, though - CEOs didn’t have any interest in lowly employees like himself, preferring to fraternize with the elite rather than the peons, and Jared was also rich and gorgeous enough to be completely out of reach. So it came as a complete surprise when Jensen turned away from getting a cup of punch at the holiday party and found himself face to face with a leering Jared Padalecki.
Jared had made some joking comment about how company policy prevented them serving any of the good stuff, and at Jensen’s blushing agreement, had invited him outside for a real drink.
‘Outside’ turned out to be the hallway outside the auditorium the party was being held in, a few steps away from a supply closet that would soon be very occupied and feature in Jensen’s fantasies for several months, but for the time being, Jared just leaned against the wall and added part of the contents of a silver flask to Jensen’s punch.
“So,” he said, leaning his forearm on the wall as Jensen sipped at his drink, “How’re you liking the company so far?”
“Uh, pretty good, I guess,” Jensen said nervously. “The, uh, the people are all pretty nice, it seems like a good place.”
“Yeah,” Jared said, taking a slug directly from the flask. “Was this what you always wanted to be, when you were a kid?”
It sounded like some kind of trick question. “Um, well, I probably didn’t think I’d be here, exactly, but I’m very glad to be - “
“No, no, no,” Jared interrupted, hair flying as he shook his head with intoxicated over-effort. “I mean, seriously, was this what you ever imagined yourself doing?”
“Well, no,” Jensen admitted. “But when I was a kid I thought it would be cool to, like, live in a giant tree house on a tropical island and survive on coconuts, so it’s probably a good thing I chose this instead.”
Jared had laughed, a bright, guileless guffaw that only endeared him to Jensen more. “Yeah, you’re right. I had my heart set on being a racecar driver when I was little, but I failed my driver’s test three times and I’ve had half a dozen accidents since then. It’s probably a good thing I’m running a company instead.” He offered Jensen the flask, then took another sip himself. “So your childhood ambition was to be a member of the Swiss family Robinson?”
Jensen nearly snorted vodka-laced lemonade through his nose. “Actually, I really wanted to be an astronaut. Apparently I told my parents a million times that I was going to see every star out there up close.”
Jared swayed a little closer. “Really?”
He was so close that Jensen could smell his cologne and feel his breath, gentle against his neck. He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Hmm,” was all Jared said, before grabbing Jensen by the collar and kissing him breathless. By the time Jensen got enough air to figure out what was going on, he was being manhandled into the closet, and Jared’s hands were all over him, quickly heading for very sensitive areas.
“Um,” Jensen said as his back pressed against an uncomfortable shelf. “Um, Jared.”
But Jared just kissed him again, and while Jensen would have loved to just go with that plan, letting Jared do whatever the hell he wanted and maybe getting a little groping in himself, he knew he couldn’t. He might be new at the office, but he’d already heard the rumors about Jared’s promiscuity, and judging by the alcoholic flavor of their kiss, Jared was far enough gone to forget all about this by morning. And Jensen, though he was already completely infatuated with Jared, just wasn’t cut out that way, just couldn’t be the drunken fumble in the supply closet one night and a vague, hazy memory the next morning.
“Jared, no,” he said, pulling back and trying to fend off Jared’s hands. “We can’t - oh, holy fuck.”
Jensen could feel Jared grin against his neck as he made a very unmanly squeak, but he was not used to a near stranger touching him there after about thirty seconds of small talk, and especially not with the knowledgeable confidence of Jared’s fingers.
“Jesus, okay,” he gasped. “That’s - Jared, we have to stop.”
Jared made a noise around the hickey he was sucking into the skin under Jensen’s collar, then pulled back with a wet smack that did nothing to strengthen Jensen’s resolve. “Don’t want to.”
“I know,” Jensen said breathlessly. “I know, but we have to. I’m not - I can’t do this.”
Jared had pulled all the way back, then, and Jensen didn’t wait for any more arguments, just mumbled, “I’m sorry,” as he pushed past him and fled the small room.
Part five