Fic: Love and Other Sports Injuries [J2]
Title: Love and Other Sports Injuries
Rating: R for language and sexual content
Fandom/pairing: Supernatural RPF AU, Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Word count: 10k
Warnings: crude language, extreme sappiness, and skewering of a fictional doppleganger of Gary Bettman. The views of the characters are not necessarily the views of the author. Except the Bettman thing, that's pretty much me.
(P.S. A reminder: this is totally made up.)
Summary: After a childhood spent moving all over the US and Canada, living with his uncle Jeff, a professional hockey player and then coach, Jensen Ackles tries to avoid hockey whenever possible. Too bad that his hot one night stand turns out not only to be a hockey player, but one coached by his uncle. Jensen came to Kansas City to give a little family moral support, but now he's stuck in the middle of a team going bankrupt, with a defenseman determined to woo him, and worst of all, he doesn't miss his previous staid, hockey-free existence one bit. Written for spn_meanttobe.
Original prompt: 7. Body Check. Hard body? Check. Awesome-night-in-the-sack potential? Check! Hayden Houston is breaking out of her good-girl mode. It's time for a one-night stand--and she's found just the man for the job! She spent her childhood being dragged from rink to rink by her hockey-coach father. Now Hayden craves stability. And she's determined to get it--after this one night. When hockey star Brody Croft sees the sexy brunette at the bar, he's riveted. He's ready to shed his bad-boy ways and settle down. And after a mind-blowing night in bed with Hayden, he knows she's the one. Now all he has to do is convince her…
Jensen hated the feeling he got after flying. As much as he traveled, he'd never really got used to the unsettling combination of fatigued but wired he got after being stuck in a plane or an airport most of the day. And to make matters worse, his body was still on West Coast time, and he knew that he wouldn't get to sleep until the early hours of the morning.
He still felt the thrum of irritation that he'd have to go visit his uncle and brother tomorrow, pay attention to whatever Josh'd said was going on with the hockey team that they both worked for. Like Jensen hadn't spent most of his childhood in freezing cold hockey rinks, being shuttled around from one town to another, all for hockey. Jeff had been a player in the NHL when Josh and Jensen had gone to live with him after their parents died in a car crash.
After he'd retired from the league, his uncle Jeff had started coaching, and now he was the head coach for the Kansas City Cobras, who'd been added to the league 3 years ago. Josh had played hockey in college and then briefly in the minor leagues; now he was one of the talent coaches for the Cobras. Which was why Jensen found himself in Kansas after he'd been to a conference in Denver, rather than home in his condo overlooking the San Francisco Bay like he'd planned. But as much as Jensen hated hockey, he loved his uncle and brother, and Josh had sounded really worried when Jensen talked to him on the phone. Thus the impromptu flight east rather than west.
Maybe he'd go down to the bar he'd seen as he was checking in, get a drink before coming back to his empty room and reading policy documents until he fell asleep out of self-defense.
Later Jensen would like to have blamed it all on the jet lag, or the Scotch and two beers, but really it was the guy. Not his usual type; he usually dated guys his own age or older, professional, professorial-looking guys, guys who knew what was being offered and what wasn't. This guy was none of those things. He was younger, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt, but he was no kid. He looked like he worked with his hands, easy stance with his messy, non-corporate hair. He was way more built than Jensen usually preferred, but he moved like a dancer or a fighter, graceful with the sense of restrained force behind it. They hadn't talked a lot; the glances had been enough to know they were both on the same page. He hadn't even finished his second beer when by mutual silent agreement they headed for the elevators. And the sex, Jesus Christ… Jensen was no innocent, but he'd never had sex quite that good before.
When Jensen woke up alone the next morning, he told himself he wasn't disappointed. He looked at the name and number left on the hotel notepad for a minute before throwing it in the trash can and turning toward the shower. No point in getting attached. He was only here for a few days, to visit Josh and Jeff and give some moral support, and then it was back to California and back to work. He dressed and grabbed some coffee from the free buffet downstairs before heading to the rink where the Cobras practiced. Last night had been a nice bonus, but it wasn't why he was here, he reminded himself. Time to make an appearance, do his familial duty, and then get the hell out and back home before the hockey drove him nuts.
When Jensen got to the rink, his uncle greeted him with a hug. "Jensen, it's great to see you. Let me show you around." As Jeff showed off the new arena, Jensen tried to fight the feeling of being thrown back to his childhood. The pleasant smell of the ice and the decidedly less pleasant smell of sweaty hockey gear brought back a flood of memories.
Josh had been 10 and Jensen 7 when they'd come to live with Jeff. Josh had been outgoing and sporty, already hockey-mad from his uncle's visits, and he adjusted to the new lifestyle quickly. Jensen had been a shy, awkward kid who'd missed his parents and hated having to always move to new schools where he was the weird new kid who never made many friends. He'd studied hard and gotten a scholarship to college, and he'd promised himself that he'd never be forced to move around on someone else's say-so ever again. And he might have gotten over most of his shyness after 4 years in college, working for a series of tech companies, and getting his MBA, but he still had a negative visceral response to the game of hockey and everything connected to it. But I'm not that kid anymore, Jensen reminded himself, and forced himself to focus on what his uncle was saying.
What happened next proved that fate had a real sense of humor. Jensen thought he was hallucinating when he looked up from the visitor's chair in his Uncle Jeff's office and saw the guy from last night, standing in the doorway wearing a loose t-shirt and gym shorts. Apparently the guy felt the same way, because he was motionless, staring at Jensen. Jeff noticed the silence and looked up from his computer.
"Oh, hey, JT, what's up?," Jeff asked. After a moment with no response, he tried again. "JT?"
The other man - Jeff was calling him JT but the note he'd left had been signed Jared, not that Jensen'd looked at it long enough to memorize it or anything - finally broke the impromptu staring match and turned to Jeff. "Jeff," he said slowly, as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say.
"Yes?" Jeff asked, raising a brow.
JT-Jared scrubbed a hand over his face. "Uh. Right. Fetisov. Can you talk to Fetisov? I know you're busy but he's freaking out about going back to Omaha, and even Alex can't calm him down. Even if you are gonna send him down, could you just tell him that you'll let him know beforehand and not sneak him out of town on a 2 am bus? We've tried to tell him but he's being all Russian about it and getting broody and internally panicking, and he may hit like a mother but he's really just a scared teenager stuck in a foreign country, and I know how much that sucks, so maybe you could talk to him when you have a free minute cause he'll believe you…"
Jared-JT trailed off when Jeff held up a hand. "Sure, I'll talk to Fetisov, no problem. Anything else?"
Jensen couldn't be sure under the tan, but he thought JT-Jared flushed. "Uh, no, that's it."
"Before you go," Jeff said, "this is my nephew, Jensen Ackles, Josh's brother. He's visiting for a few days." He waved a hand in Jensen's direction.
Jensen got up from the chair. "Uh, hey. Nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand, and wondering if Jared-JT would play along. Fortunately, he did.
"Jared, Jared Padalecki," he said, and shook Jensen's hand firmly before walking away quickly.
Jensen was freaked out enough that he headed straight back to his hotel room, claiming urgent work. But after a day spent at the computer, and then dinner at Josh's, where he spent the time either chasing after his hyperactive nephew or holding his baby niece, he'd calmed down enough to attend morning practice the next day. No one had mentioned Jared to him, and why would they? No one knew anything. The last thing anyone who knew him would think he'd do would be hang out with hockey players, let alone sleep with one of them. He couldn't really believe it himself, honestly.
"Hey, little brother, what's up?," Josh greeted him as he sat down beside him in the stands outside the practice ice.
"Hey, man. Did these guys get bigger while I was gone, or what?," Jensen asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
Josh looked down at the players running a drill. "No shit. Every year the kids getting drafted are taller and taller. We drafted this Swedish kid, Michelson, I think he's 6'7" or 6'8", probably not done growing either. Skinny as a rail still, though."
"I met a guy yesterday when I was in Jeff's office, he was really tall," Jensen said, keeping his tone casual even as he cursed himself for opening his mouth. "Big, too."
Josh looked down at where the defensemen were divided into pairs, pointing at one wearing an orange practice jersey. "Who, Padalecki? Hell, he was almost as skinny as the Swede when we brought him up. I think he's put on 40 pounds of pure muscle, the guy's a tank now. Lot better skater than I thought he could be too."
Jensen nodded, trying to ignore the clench in his belly when he thought about his own up-close and personal examination of Jared's musculature.
"Great guy, too," Josh continued. "Gets along with everybody, real even temperament, great to have in the locker room. That's what Jeff says anyway." Josh took a swig of his water bottle. "Surprised to see you here again, man. Haven't you had enough hockey for one visit as usual?"
Jensen ignored Josh's sharp tone. It's not like Josh hadn't been right in the past, and it wasn't the point now anyway. "I read some of the press, bro. The team's really fucked, isn't it?"
"That's what I've been telling you for a season, dumbass," Josh retorted lightly, whacking his brother on the knee. "But yeah, things are pretty messed up. All signs point to the ownership group declaring bankruptcy at the end of the season if not before, and then the league will get involved, and who the fuck knows what'll happen. Commissioner Lehne had a lot invested in this team doing well here, and now he's got serious egg on his face, and Jeff's usual blunt manner on the topic hasn't helped much."
"It's not Jeff's fault," Jensen protested. "He didn't make the city build a new arena and increase ticket prices to recoup the cost, or make the economy tanked so nobody can afford the tickets anymore."
"You're preaching to the choir, man," Josh replied. "But the Commissioner doesn't care about reality, he cares about how it makes him and the league look. Moving a team to Kansas City was his baby, and he's only gonna let it go when he finds an alternative that makes him look even more like a stud. There's been a guy wanting to move the team to Ontario, but Lehne thinks that that'll be too close to other teams nearby. Hopefully somebody'll want us. Somebody with some extra money and not in a horrible location, preferably."
This was the part of living with professional hockey people Jensen did not miss - all the uncertainty, the changes of people and location every season or even more often. He might have changed jobs a lot, but most of the time that had been his decision, not the company's. He didn't want to be dependent, waiting on other people's decisions to determine his future, ever again.
Josh slapped his hands on his knees and stood. "I better get back to it. Flying to the East Coast tomorrow for a scouting trip. You gonna be here when I get back on Tuesday?"
Jensen shrugged. "I'm not sure, my plans are pretty flexible."
"Well, I hope you can stay a while longer, but in case I don't see you when I get back, it was great to see you. It's been too long. Maybe me and Melanie and the kids can get out to San Francisco to visit this summer after the season's over?"
"That would be great," Jensen replied, and hugged his brother. "Travel safely."
"You too," Josh said, "and call Melanie if you want to see the kids before you go. She'd love it, she always gets stir-crazy for adult company when I'm out of town."
So maybe Jensen had stayed for the rest of the morning practice. He was working, answering emails on his Blackberry, and here was good as anywhere else, right? He only stopped and watched Jared's powerful strides eat up the ice as he skated a time or two. Maybe three. He went by his uncle's office to say hey - his offer of dinner was refused, since the team would be leaving late that evening for a game in Calgary tomorrow. When he got to the parking lot, Jared was leaning against his rental car.
"Hey," Jared greeted, pushing his damp hair out of his face. Jensen told himself to ignore how edible Jared looked, skin still flushed from the practice and a shower.
"Hey," Jensen replied quietly.
"Listen, I didn't expect…" Jared trailed off, waving his hands as if he were searching for something more to say.
"Me either," Jensen agreed.
"You and Coach Morgan look nothing alike, man," Jared said with an awkward chuckle.
"Yeah, my mom was the pretty one in that family," Jensen joked.
Jared smiled. "D'ya wanna get some coffee or something?"
"Um. Thanks, but I don't think that's a good idea, man," Jensen replied. "I'm just gonna be in town for a few days and you play for my uncle, and…"
Jared looked disappointed, but he nodded. "Yeah, I understand. I uh, guess I'll see you around?"
Jensen nodded. When Jared had taken a few steps, he called out "Hey, how'd you know this was my car?"
"White late-model Ford sedan? Jensen, nobody but car rental companies and the elderly buy those."
Jensen laughed, waving Jared off.
It's possible that the memory of Jared's wide smile stuck in his head for the rest of the day. But that was only because he was writing project reports all afternoon, which were not the most engrossing things ever.
Jensen groaned as he neared the block where the restaurant was located. An online guidebook had said that Mama Jo's had the best barbeque in Kansas City, and Jensen had thought that dinner would be a good way to distract himself. But it looked like plenty of other people had read the guidebook too; the line of people waiting to be seated was out the door and down the block. Oh well, it's not like I had other plans for the night, beside reviewing emails, and I can do that while I wait. He walked to the end of the line and pulled out his Blackberry.
A few minutes later he was thumbing through entries when he heard someone call his name. He looked up to see Jared and a brown-haired woman standing on the sidewalk near him. "Jared. Hi," Jensen said, a bit hesitantly. Apparently Jared wasn't too upset about being summarily dismissed in the rink parking lot the other day, or he would have passed by and said nothing to Jensen. For himself, Jensen wasn't sure how he felt, other than a little too happy to stare at Jared's broad shoulders underneath his coat.
"Craving for barbeque?," Jared was asking, as Jensen pulled his attention back to what Jared was actually saying.
"I heard it was really good," Jensen replied with a shrug.
"It is pretty good," Jared agreed. "Guess the Amway people heard so too."
"Amway?," Jensen asked.
"There's a national Amway distributors' convention at the convention center," the woman standing beside Jared said. "My hotel's full of 'em."
"This is Rachel, by the way. Rachel, Jensen," Jared said, waving between them. "Jensen's uncle's the head coach of the Cobras," Jared said to Rachel as she and Jensen shook hands.
"Nice to meet you," Jensen said.
"Likewise," she replied, and smiled as they shook hands.
"Are you up for a change of plans?," Jared asked, turning to Rachel.
"Sure, I'm in your hands," Rachel said.
"D'ya wanna come with us?," Jared asked Jensen. "I know this great place, serves killer burgers and barbeque, but it's a bit off the beaten path. Should be less busy."
Jensen looked up at Jared's lively eyes and found himself agreeing before he could think twice.
They grabbed a cab, which dropped them in what looked like a residential, older area. Jared led them down the block and around to the back of a nondescript building. There was an incredible smell and the hum of conversation coming through a screen door.
"Fuck, this is amazing," Jensen groaned, and took another bite of ribs.
"I know, right?," Jared agreed. "The guys took brought me here my rookie year after training camp. Had to pay for all the veterans who came to lunch, but it was worth it. Don't tell the trainer I came here during the season, though, he'd kill me."
"You eat like seven thousand calories a day, Padalecki. I'm gonna have to be on bread and water for the rest of the week to fit into my clothes," Rachel complained cheerfully. She was halfway through a giant burger and basket of fries - which she was dipping into mayo, which Jensen found a little weird, but whatever.
"You know you're beautiful to me at any size," Jared joked in a smarmy voice.
"Fat lot of good that does me," Rachel grumped, but teasingly.
"You know I'll always be your sugar daddy," Jared said.
Rachel snorted. "Sugar daddy. When I met you you couldn't afford long enough pants, boy."
Jared smiled. "Times change." The two shared a look, mostly fond, but Jensen thought he saw the remembrance of painful times behind it.
"Where did you two meet?," Jensen asked.
"We met in New Brunswick," Rachel responded. "I was the weather girl for the local TV station, and one day the sports guy got the flu. They sent me to cover the local minor league hockey game, and Jared put up with my horrendous interviewing technique."
"You weren't that bad," Jared protested. Rachel gave him an even look, and he chuckled. "OK, you weren't as smooth as you are now. Anyway, we hit it off, and she put up with me following her around when my 4, count them 4 roommates in a two-bedroom apartment were driving me nuts."
"BFFs forever," Rachel agreed. "What about you, Jensen? What's your story? You don't seem like the sports type, really."
"My uncle was an NHL player when we went to live with him, my brother and I, after our parents died. Now he's a coach and my brother's a scout for the Cobras. He played in the minor leagues for a while," Jensen explained.
"But you never played?", Rachel asked.
Maybe it was the beer, but Jensen found himself answering bluntly. "No, I never was interested. Actually, I hated hockey."
"You hated hockey?", Jared exclaimed incredulously.
Rachel laughed. "Not everyone eats, sleeps and breathes hockey like you, Jay."
As they were finishing the ridiculously tasty apple pie they'd ordered for dessert, Rachel looked at her watch and cursed. "Shit, I gotta get going. My flight leaves in two hours." She stacked her cutlery and napkins on top of her plate.
"D'ya want me to come with you?," Jared asked. "I'm sorry, I totally lost track of time."
"Nah, it's fine. This is it for my luggage," she said, gesturing toward the rolling tote by her chair. "I'll just catch a cab and head straight to the airport." The three of them got up and cleaned their table before heading outside.
"It was very nice to meet you, Jensen," Rachel said, as she climbed into the back of a cab. "Keep this guy out of trouble, will you?"
Jensen fumbled for something to say, and was rescued by Jared. "Stop meddling, Rach. Call me when you get home, yeah?"
Rachel nodded and waved, which Jared returned. After the cab had turned at the end of the block, Jared turned to Jensen. "Do you have to head back? I can get another cab."
Jensen had some unit testing specs to review, but it was the last thing he felt like doing right now. "I'm in no hurry, really."
"We could walk back," Jared said hesitantly. "It's a nice night, not too cold yet, and it's not that far."
Which is how Jensen found himself walking along a suburban Kansas City street with a hockey player in something that felt a lot like the end of a first date. Was it still a first date if the people involved had already seen each other naked?, Jensen found himself wondering.
"Rachel seems really nice," Jensen said, to break the silence.
"She's great," Jared agreed. "We hit it off when we met, and we've been friends ever since. Even after I tried to date her and totally freaked the fuck out."
"That sounds… not good," Jensen said weakly.
"Yeah, that's an understatement," Jared agreed. "It was my own fault, I guess. I mean, she was awesome, made me laugh, and she was gorgeous. Why wouldn't I want to date her?"
"Maybe because she's a girl?", Jensen offered. He had a bad idea where this was heading.
"Yeeeaaaahh," Jared said with emphasis. "I was still hoping those random crushes I'd had on guys were just because I wanted to skate like them, not sleep with them. But that got blown totally out of the water. Rachel was amazing, helped talk me down from my freakout, convinced me I could keep playing hockey even if I was into guys."
"And is it OK?", Jensen asked. "Being gay and a professional hockey player, I mean."
"Yeah, it's all right. My friends, the guys I trust, they all know. I wish I didn't have to be so secretive all the time, but… Maybe someday soon. What about you?," Jared asked.
"Well, nothing dramatic like you," Jensen replied. "I had a couple girlfriends in high school, more friends than anything else. I figured I just hadn't found anyone that I really liked. I guess I was right, anyway; after I got to college I met this guy and we really hit it off, and that was that, I guess. No big drama. Fortunately my brother and Uncle Jeff were cool about it."
Jared slowed as they got to a crosswalk. "This is my place, actually," he said, and waved to an apartment building behind them. "Do you want to come up, have a drink or something. Just a drink. If you want."
"I better not," Jensen said.
Jared nodded. "I understand. I'll see you around, yeah?"
Jensen nodded and started to turn away, and then turned back. "Jared?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to have dinner again sometime while I'm here? Not a date, just hanging out?"
Jared smiled. "Sure, that sounds great."
What the hell was that, you moron? You spent days telling yourself to let it go, that dating a hockey player would be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and then you ask him to dinner? Jensen tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, thinking about Jared, and hockey, and work, and Jared.
Jensen saw the caller ID on his cellphone and smiled. He was surprised it'd taken Danneel so long to call. "Dan, hey, how are you?"
"I'm good, Jenny," Danneel replied, sarcasm thick in her voice. "How 'bout you? The big boss said you're taking some more time off? We expected you to be back in the office raring to go the day after the conference ended. I heard you kicked serious ass in your presentation, by the way."
"Thanks. It went well, got some good contacts too," Jensen replied.
"So not the interesting part of my questions, Jensen, what's going on?"
"My brother called," Jensen replied, "said there was some shifty stuff happening at the Cobras, so I decided to fly out, visit him and my uncle for a few days."
"The Cobras?," Danneel asked.
"The hockey team my uncle coaches and that my brother scouts for," Jensen said.
"Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning that sometime," Danneel said. "Everything OK?"
"Josh and Uncle Jeff are fine, although the team's going bankrupt. Nobody's sure if they'll have jobs next year, which sucks. I, uh, I thought I'd stick around a few more days, give them moral support, hang out with my niece and nephew."
"You haven't been driven crazy yet? Even I remember your drunken rant at last year's holiday party about how much you hate hockey, and I was drunker than you were at the time."
Jensen winced at the memory. He and his team had been in the middle of a hectic corporate software upgrade project, working all kinds of overtime, and the liquor at the company Christmas party had gone straight to his sleep-deprived head. He'd managed to offend one of the regional managers, who it turned out was a big hockey fan himself and owned season tickets to the team that played in Denver. Fortunately the guy wasn't the type to hold a grudge, and they'd worked together smoothly at the recent conference.
"It's not that bad," Jensen replied. "I'm surviving."
"Holy shit! I know that tone in your voice," Danneel exclaimed. "Did you meet a guy?"
"No. Yes. Maybe, I don't know."
"Tell me everything."
"It's not anything, Danny, it's just… having a little fun," Jensen said.
"OK, OK. I'll get it out of you after the honeymoon." Danneel ignored Jensen's sputtering. "I gotta go, got a meeting. Text me. And have some fun! You deserve it."
As the doorman let him into Jared's building, Jensen thought again about backing out. But the pleased note in Jared's voice when he'd called was stuck in his memory. They'd arranged to meet and go out to a local grill for steaks. When he knocked on Jared's door, there was a call of "just a sec" from inside. Jensen waited, until a minute later the door was pulled open by Jared. Jared, who was… half-naked?
"Sorry, practice went long," Jared said. Jensen nodded dumbly as he watched Jared's muscled torso disappearing under the shirt he was pulling over his head. "Just give me a sec." His head popped through the neck of the tight-fitting undershirt. He should have looked ridiculous with his hair sticking up every which way, but Jensen was caught by the look in his eyes. "God, you're hot," Jared said. "Every time I think I must have imagined how much, that I'm exaggerating in my head, and then I see you again and you're even hotter than I remembered."
Jensen flushed at the straightforward lust in Jared's voice.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Sometimes my mouth completely bypasses my brain," Jared said.
"It's OK," Jensen said softly. It was only fair; he'd been thinking the same thing about Jared, he just hadn't said it out loud.
"So, steaks? Let me get my shirt."
Jensen couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much. Jared had such a wry turn of phrase, making things like teammates' pranks funnier than Jensen had imagined. Jensen found himself back at Jared's condo after dinner without even thinking about it. "Another beer?," Jared asked.
"I, uh, I better get going, actually," Jensen said. He'd totally meant to keep it friendly, impersonal, but Jared was so engaging he made him forget his worries about their relationship.
Jared turned and looked at him steadily. "Listen, hear me out for a second here, and then it's totally your call, OK?"
"OK," Jensen said slowly.
"I understand you have to go home soon, and I know the thing with your uncle is kinda weird, but… Jensen, I like you, and I think you like me. If we want to have some fun while you're here, we're not hurting anybody. We don't have to make it awkward if we don't want to," Jared said, waving his hands around to express his point.
"What you're saying is you want to sleep with me again," Jensen said.
"What I'm saying is I want to hang out with you, Jensen," Jared said. "OK, and sleep with you. Who the fuck wouldn't?"
Jensen had to smile at Jared's emphatic statement. "No strings?", he said, just to clarify things.
"If that's what you want, yeah," Jared said.
"OK."
"OK?"
"OK."
"Wow, romantic. I think I may swoon," Jared joked.
Jensen grinned, feeling happier than he had in days. Maybe years. "I think I may kick your ass, swooner," he said, and headed in Jared's direction. The other man let out a girly shriek and ran into his bedroom, and Jensen followed, laughing all the way.
Jared listened to his voicemail as soon as he turned his phone back on after the plane landed, but he waited to call Jensen back until he got to his truck. "Hey, Jensen. We just got back."
"Good trip?"
"Eh, OK. Wish we'd won," Jared replied.
"You have practice later?", Jensen asked.
"No, we've got the rest of the day off, thank god," Jared replied.
"If you wanted to come over…" Jensen trailed off when there was no response.
Jared suddenly realized that Jensen couldn't see him grinning and punching a fist in triumph. "Yeah, absolutely," he said hurriedly. "Just give me an hour to dump off my stuff and take a shower."
"I have a better idea," Jensen said.
"What?"
"It just so happens that my hotel room has a walk-in shower with wall jets. Oh, and me."
"I'll be there in 20 minutes," Jared said, and grinned wider as he started his engine.
"So not that I don't appreciate being able to hang out with you all day, but don't you have a job?," Jared asked hesitantly. "Are you on vacation?"
"Half on vacation, half working remotely, I guess," Jensen replied. "I'd just finished a big project in downtown San Francisco before coming here, so I've mostly been catching up on paperwork and prepping for whatever I get assigned to next."
"Lucky me," Jared said, and kissed him, settling back on the sofa. A few minutes later Jensen asked "I'm not getting in your way, am I? Keeping you from practicing?"
"I thought you hated hockey," Jared replied in a teasing tone. Ever since Jensen had let slip his conflicted history and childhood hatred of hockey, Jared hadn't let him forget it.
"I do, mostly, but I don't hate you," Jensen said. "Besides, I don't need Uncle Jeff to rip me a new one for distracting his star defenseman right before the end of the season."
"Star defenseman?"
"Spare me your fake modesty, man, I can read the sports page, even if I don't usually," Jensen said with a smile. Jared was having a great year, even though the team wasn't doing that well in the standings.
Jared smiled and shrugged. "It's the end of the season, and unless every team in front of us in the conference loses practically every remaining game, we're not gonna make the playoffs. I'm not slacking off, I give it my all when I'm on the ice, but I don't need to go to extra practices or anything. Especially if I can spend that time with you. Preferably naked, in bed," Jared said, but was interrupted by his own stomach growling.
Jensen chuckled. "Or maybe dressed and in the Italian place down the street?"
Jared mock pouted. "OK. But only because I love lasagna almost as much as I … I love you naked."
"Glad to know where I rate," Jensen replied.
"'Uncle Jeff,'" Jared repeated, after swallowing a bite of lasagna. "What was it like growing up with him? He's such a straight-shooter and a smart-ass I can't imagine him with little kids."
"It was a little weird at first. We were little kids, we liked him as an uncle, he brought us presents when he visited, you know? And then mom and dad were gone, and he was supposed to be our parental figure. I realize now that he was just as at sea; he did the best he could. But it was an adjustment. I think it was easier for Josh in some ways. He loved living with a hockey star, and he was outgoing, made new friends everywhere we moved. Me, every time we changed schools I threw up on the first day of school. And we changed schools a lot."
"I'm sorry. That must have sucked," Jared said.
"I got over it," Jensen said, and shrugged. "So I worked my ass off in school and got a scholarship to college so I could get a kickass job where people would respect me and couldn't force me to move anywhere. And now, irony of ironies, I've got a job that sends me all over the country and forces me to work with new people all the time."
"You seem to like it, though," Jared said.
"Yeah, most of the time. The travel gets old sometimes, but the problems we're working on are challenging, and I really like running my own team of people." Jensen drank some more of his wine.
"What about you? Is being a hockey player all you dreamed of as a kid?"
"Mostly I dreamed of anything that would get me the hell out of my hometown," Jared said.
"That doesn't sound good," Jensen replied.
"It wasn't that bad, really. It's just that it was a tiny town, and people talked. And gossiped, like it was 50 years ago. My mom was the unwed mother, and I was the poor bastard child, no matter what else we did. And kids can be cruel too. My mom worked a lot, trying to make ends meet, but we never had a lot. I was always in second-hand clothes, home alone because my mom was at a second or third job. So I started hanging out at rink in town because it was open at night, and convinced the guys who ran it to let me join a kids' league in exchange for helping clean the place, and the rest is history, I guess."
"Does your mom like hockey?," Jensen asked.
"All right, I guess. She didn't mind it when I was a kid, it kept me out of trouble, except for the equipment being so expensive. I was always mowing lawns, whatever I could do to get extra money, and I still never could pay it all without her help. When I get older, started joining the traveling teams, she didn't like it. She thought it was a waste of time, that I should concentrate on school, go to college." Jared rolled his eyes.
"Not a fan of school?," Jensen asked.
"I sucked at school," Jared replied flatly. "In hockey I could see the plays, see how everyone fit together and how it made patterns and stuff. But in school I looked at the books and they didn't make sense, no matter what the teachers said. It was boring, I never had the right clothes, and the kids sucked." Jared cleared his throat. "Other than that it was fine," he said with a forced laugh.
"We're so different, you and I," Jensen mused.
"Opposites attract, right?"
"That might help explain how I'm dating a hockey player," Jensen replied.
"Might explain why I'm dating a nerd."
Jensen pretended to be offended.
"Fortunately you're a very hot nerd," Jared said quickly, which made Jensen smile.
The waitress came by to clear their plates and left a dessert menu. "Dessert?," asked Jared, flipping through it.
"A, not all of us need to eat like professional hockey players, and B, I had a better idea of what to do for dessert," Jensen replied.
Jared looked up from the menu and grinned at the hot look in Jensen's eyes. "Check, please!"
Jensen hadn't gone to the Cobras game. He'd had a teleconference with some subcontractors in Hong Kong that had dragged on for 3-plus hours. He was watching game highlights while waiting for his room-service dinner to arrive when he heard a knock on his door. To his surprise, it wasn't the waiter but Jared who stood at the door. "What happened to you?," Jensen asked. Jared's face was swollen and there were stitches near his left eye.
"Checked into the glass, caught a stanchion, looks worse than it is," Jared replied, his swollen lip slurring his words a bit.
"That's good, because it looks like shit," Jensen quipped. He hesitated. "You wanna…" He waved a hand toward the inside of the hotel room.
"If you don't mind. I just didn't feel like going home, but I don't wanna impose."
"Nah, come on in," Jensen said.
They switched from hockey highlights to a basketball game, and were busy trash-talking each other's respective teams when a knock came on the door. Jensen got up to open the door.
"You hungry?," Jensen asked, after the room service guy had left. "I could order you something more, or a beer or something?"
"No," Jared said, "I'm good. Beer on top of the painkillers'd probably knock me totally out."
As Jensen ate his burger and Jared stole a few fries, they watched the game. Jared's contributions came less and less. When halftime came, Jensen looked over to see Jared sprawled over on his side, asleep. Jensen covered him with an extra blanket and tried to ignore his solid warmth on the other side of the sofa.
When the game ended, Jensen turned off the TV and the lights in the living area. Jared stirred and murmured something Jensen didn't catch. "Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up a little," Jensen said.
"C'n call cab," Jared managed to slur.
"You're dead on your feet, man, just crash here," Jensen said. He managed to get Jared somewhat ambulatory and walked him over to the large hotel bed, and then wrestled his shoes and jeans off before Jared collapsed on the bed and fell back to sleep, turning his face into the pillow and making noises that Jensen really didn't think were cute. Really.
Jensen checked his email, made notes on a couple issues to check on tomorrow, and used the bathroom before stripping off his own clothes and climbing into the other side of the bed. Suddenly he was enveloped in a bear hug, Jared's long arms and legs wrapping around him. "Hi," Jared murmured against the side of his neck.
"Hi," Jensen managed back as Jared gently bit his earlobe. "I thought you were asleep."
"Who wants to sleep when there's someone amazing like you in their bed," Jared said, and punctuated his message with kisses along Jensen's neck and shoulder.
"I bet you can have whoever you want in your bed."
"Not really. And there's no comparison anyway," Jared said, ending the conversation by turning Jensen's face toward him and kissing him deeply.
At one point Jensen managed to ask about whether they were making Jared's injuries worse.
"My face has stitches, not my dick," Jared said, and brought Jensen's attention back to what they'd been doing. Fair enough point, Jensen thought, and then he stopped thinking altogether.
"Coach Morgan, how do you respond to reports that the team may be moving to Seattle next year?"
"I don't," Jeff replied tightly. "It would be irresponsible of me to reply to idle speculation."
"Do you know more about the future of the team?", another press person asked.
"Well, I'm hoping that we can keep winning, get some more guys back from the IR," Jeff said.
The same reporter spoke up again. "I meant, do you know more about the financial future of the team?"
"No, I don't. And if I did, I'm not dumb enough to tell you guys without permission."
There were a few awkward chuckles. Jeff took a sip of water and screwed the cap back on the bottle firmly.
A question came from the local TSN stringer: "Do you think that the present uncertainty has affected the players?"
"Absolutely not. They're professional athletes, and they know how to keep their focus. If anyone's causing uncertainty, it's the media, for fixating on this issue and not covering the actual hockey games. Any more questions?" Jeff waited through only a few moments of silence before getting up from the table and walking away.
Josh threw his head in his hands and groaned. "How can he keep doing this?"
"It's not that bad, is it? I think it's funny," Jensen replied. They were sitting in Josh's office, watching post-game coverage, specifically Jeff's turn at the post-game press conference.
"It won't be funny when the commissioner decides to move us to Timbuktu, Saskatchewan, and you'll have to wear snow boots to visit, all year round," Josh replied with emphasis.
"Now they're talking about Saskatchewan, really?"
"No, I don't think so. But somewhere equally remote and assy, if Jeff doesn't play ball with the reporters. He and Commissioner Lehne have always rubbed each other the wrong way, but with this whole bankruptcy crisis…"
"That sucks," Jensen replied. "What'll happen to you guys, to the coaches and their jobs?"
"Depends on what the new owner wants," Josh said, and shrugged. "Sometimes they keep the old guys, sometimes they want to start new with a new set of coaches, scouts, whatever."
"What about the players?," Jensen found himself asking.
"The players?" Josh looked a bit surprised at the question. "They'll go to the new location, if they've still got a contract. If they're going to be free agents or whatever at the end of the season, anything could happen. I doubt the team'll be re-signing a lot of guys until after the bankruptcy thing gets worked out one way or the other."
Josh had been acting weird all through dinner, but he hadn't said anything about it. Finally Melanie took the kids up to get ready for bed, a look passing between her and Josh like they'd planned something.
"What's up?," Jensen asked carefully.
Josh just looked at him for a minute. "You know, if I wasn't such an awesome big brother I could give you so much shit for sleeping with an NHL player, after all your years of hating hockey and everything associated with it."
Jensen inhaled sharply.
Josh answered his silent question. "Don't worry, I doubt anyone else knows. But your uncharacteristic sticking around in town and interest in the team, combined with how Assistant Coach Lindberg said something about how Padalecki's been distracted recently, and it got me watching you two a bit closer than I would normally. I know your lovesick look, I remember it too well from when we were in high school and you followed Chris around like a puppy."
"We're not. I mean we're just having fun, I'm not in love or anything," Jensen protested.
Josh hmmed, looking unconvinced. "Whatever you say, dude." He paused. "Just… Listen, from all I know Padalecki's a great guy, and all his friends know he's gay. But still, he's a professional hockey player, you know? I just don't want to see you hurt."
"Yeah, I know," Jensen said. "Thanks, bro."
Jared gave up on pushing his dinner around on his plate and pulled the cordless phone out of its cradle. He dialed a long distance number.
"Jim Beaver," the voice on the other end said.
"Hey, Jim. It's Jared. Padalecki."
"Jared! How are ya, son?," Jim replied. "It's been a while."
"I'm doing OK. Not sure if I'll have a job next year, but I'm OK."
"Yeah, I've heard about the money problems in Kansas City, that's too bad. But I'm sure you'll get picked up somewhere; you're twelfth in the league in offense among defenseman, and fifth in hits, last I looked," Jim said.
"I hope so," Jared said.
"Now that doesn't sound like the relentlessly cheerful kid I remember," Jim said. "Something wrong?"
"I met someone," Jared said.
"Ah-ha."
"And it was great. He was, is great. But now, he's got to go back home soon, and I don't know where I'm gonna be, and I can't just tell people about it, and… It just sucks, that's all, and I don't know what to do." Jared raked his hair off his forehead with his free hand.
"All right, take a breath, son. Let's start from the beginning. Tell me about him?"
As Jared talked with Jim, he was reminded of the many times they had done this when Jared was younger. Jim had been the conditioning coach for a minor league team in Quebec that had invited Jared to their training camp. He'd made the team by the skin of his teeth, and Jim had spent the next 6 months totally remaking his body with new workouts and nutrition. Half his teammates and most of his neighbors hadn't even spoken English, so he ended up spending a lot of time in Jim's basement gym. He'd provided Jared with a fatherly perspective when Jared had sorely needed one, and gave him a lot of good advice about what he needed to do if he wanted to be a successful professional hockey player. The day Jared had decided to tell Jim he was gay he threw up twice before he even made it to Jim's place. After he'd gotten it out Jim had looked him in the eye and thanked him for trusting him, and Jared had never felt such relief in his life.
"But he's never said anything about trying to stay together or seeing each other again," Jared said.
"Have you?"
"Well, no, but I know he's got a job he loves in California, and he spent so much time being dragged along with his uncle when he was a kid and hated it," Jared replied.
"Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you, kid. Maybe he thinks that you wouldn't even be interested, that you won't mind when he leaves. You can't know what he's thinking unless you ask him," Jim said.
"Yeah, I guess."
"From everything you've said, this guy seems to like you. He's stayed longer than he planned, and he went out with you in the first place, even though he didn't have the best associations with hockey. Just don't shut any doors prematurely."
When Jared hung up he felt much calmer. He happily heated up his leftovers in the microwave and ate them. No point in wasting perfectly good food.
"I'm sorry you guys didn't make the playoffs," Jensen said.
Jared took another sip of beer and shrugged. "It wasn't likely we'd do that well, anyway. Not much point in getting into the first round just to get our asses kicked by Detroit." They were sitting in a quiet bar after the Cobras' last game. They'd been nursing beers and eating peanuts, just talking.
The bartender came by. "Last call, guys, want anything?"
They shook their heads. Jensen checked his watch. "Shit, how'd it get to be 2?"
Jared finished his beer and turned to him with an intent gaze. "Come home with me."
"Jared, I'm leaving tomorrow…"
"I know. It's OK. Come home with me," Jared repeated.
As Jensen flopped sweaty and replete beside Jared on his bed, he blinked away tears. He'd thought on the first night they'd hooked up that the sex couldn't have been hotter. He'd been wrong. Every time it'd gotten better as they got to know each other's bodies and preferences. More than that, each time the sense of connection between them grew. And this time there'd been an overlay of desperation, of feasting before a famine.
"Can I call you?," Jared asked abruptly.
"Huh?"
"Can I call you? I mean, I won't if you don't want me to or anything."
Jensen reached out to grasp Jared's hand with his own. "Of course you can call me. I want you to."
They lay in silence for a few minutes.
"What do hockey players do for the summer, anyway? You gonna sit around and catch up on your soaps?," Jensen teased.
"My mom wants me to visit. They, my mom and her boyfriend, they just moved to a new house on the lake," Jared replied.
"That sounds nice," Jensen replied.
"Yeah, we'll see. We love each other, we just get along better in small doses. What about you, your summer?"
"I'll have to see what new project Kripke puts me on, I guess. He probably thinks I've been possessed by demons; I've never taken off so much time before."
"I hope it won't cause problems," Jared said.
"Nah, Kripke was always worried I'd flip out from working too much. Besides, whatever happens, it was worth it."
And even if Jensen was swallowing past a lump in his throat as he boarded his plane the next morning, he still felt the same.
Jensen was a million miles away, idly listening to the music on his MP3 player as he walked back from the BART station to his condo. He really needed to stop listening to the playlists he'd made after he left Jared in Kansas City. The sad, contemplative music was just what he'd been in the mood for when he got back, but now he knew he needed to snap out of it, to stop mooning and get on with his life. He just wasn't quite ready to let his memories of Jared go. They'd talked and texted a few times in the six weeks since they'd seen each other; Jared had been in Minnesota visiting his mother, but every time he heard Jared's voice he missed him more.
He was startled when he got to the bottom of the flight of stairs to his building and realized there was someone sitting on his front stoop. Someone who looked a lot like the same person he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for over a month. "Jared!"
Jared unfolded himself from the steps. "Uh, hi. I hope you don't mind, I convinced your brother to give me your address."
Jensen waved a hand. "Sure, it's fine. What are you doing here?"
"Well, that's kind of a long story. Can I come in?," Jared asked, swiping his hand through his hair in a gesture that made Jensen's heart clench in recognition.
After they got to his apartment, Jensen put down his messenger bag and gave Jared the nickel tour.
"I love the view," Jared said, as he stood at the sliding glass door that led to the tiny balcony, looking out over the hills as they dropped away underneath them, the red and white microwave transmission tower on Twin Peaks poking out on their right.
"That's why I got it," Jensen said. "Where else can you see a view like that? Sometimes when the fog's coming in I turn off the lights and just sit here, watching it slowly roll over the hills." He cleared his throat. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, that's OK," Jared said, shaking his head. He turned and walked toward Jensen. "I wasn't here just to see you, Jensen. I was down in San Jose."
"Oh yeah. How come?" Wasn't there an NHL team in San Jose? Jensen's heart started beating a bit faster. His past habit of ignoring everything hockey-related wasn't helping out right now.
"I think I told you that I'm a free agent this year," Jared said, and Jensen nodded, not that had meant much to him at the time. "Basically that means I can sign with another team in the league. And the Cobras have offered to extend my contract, but they're not offering much more money. And honestly I'm not thrilled to sign with a team that doesn't even know where it's going to be playing next season." Jared stopped and took a breath. "I'm babbling, sorry. Basically the upshot of the deal is that the team in San Jose wants to make me an offer. It's not a done deal yet, I told them I had to check with someone, but they're interested."
"What exactly are you saying, Jared?"
"I'm saying that I could live here, I could be here. I can't promise I'd never be traded, there's no way I can do that, and I know that that's one of the things that bothers you, but. I won't sign with San Jose if you don't want me to, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I understand if you've moved on and…"
Jensen reached out and put a finger on Jared's lips, and Jared fell silent. Jensen really should think about this. He should really figure out if he can deal with dating a hockey player, of all the trips and away games and publicity and the chance that he could be traded halfway across the country with no notice, just like it had happened with his uncle when he was a kid, and.
"Yes."
"Yes?," Jared echoed, his mouth moving underneath Jensen's hand. He started to grin, and Jensen felt himself smiling back.
"Yes." Jensen moved into Jared's embrace, and he'd never felt more at home in his life.
EPILOGUE
"Nice seats, bro," Jensen said as they settled themselves in the first tier of the seats with their beers. They were about 10 rows back from the glass between the seats and the ice surface. Jared's team was playing the Cobras - now called the Dynamos - in their new arena in Hamilton, Ontario. Jensen had arranged to come along, see Jeff and Josh, and take in a game.
"I know a guy," Josh said, and then laughed. "No, actually, this is a treat. Usually if I'm even in the arena for a game I'm watching in the office or up in the press box talking to someone."
They stood up to let by someone who had seats farther down the row.
"You know, a year ago if someone had told me you'd come to an NHL game with me, in fact ask nicely for a ticket, I'd have told them they were smoking something illegal," Josh said.
"Yeah, well, things change," Jensen said with a small smile, as they sat back down. "And speaking of which, you seem to be settled into the new job."
"It's working out OK, although it's taking Melanie and the kids a while to adjust to Canada. Jeff's here, he brought most of the coaches with him, so a lot of the structure's the same. And I must admit it is nice to not have to worry about every last penny."
"Getting bought by a tech billionaire crazy about hockey seems to have worked out ok," Jensen replied.
"The league was hard to convince, but apparently enough money can convince anyone, including Lehne," Josh said. "So far the ticket sales have been pretty good. I mean, it's Canada, and you can't get tickets for the established teams less than a year ahead of time, so the demand's been good. Now we just have to string some victories together, prove that we're not some novelty from Kansas."
"Will you take it wrong if I say you can wait for another victory until after this game?"
"Hey, I might have to tell Uncle Jeff," Josh protested jokingly.
"I gotta root for my boy. He'll understand," Jensen replied.
"Look at you, all in love and shit," Josh said with a gentle shove to Jensen's shoulder. Jensen rolled his eyes and ignored him. "Seriously, I'm glad you're happy. And I'm glad I was wrong, that it all worked out."
Jensen smiled. There had been some rough patches, some arguments and unresolved issues. But even with the problems, Jensen was happy. Maybe not as happy as he was during the summer when Jared had been at home all the time, but it wasn't like Jensen didn't have to travel, too. They were doing their best to schedule being home at the same time, and mornings when Jensen was awakened by Jared, warm and damp from the shower, snuggling up to him, were quickly becoming his favorite thing. They'd even talked about getting a dog - or Jared had talked about getting a dog, and Jensen had said they'd need to get a bigger place first, with a yard. He'd looked at a few house listings on the sly, although he hadn't told Jared about it yet. Maybe next off-season.
The lights dimmed, and Jensen and Josh stood for the singing of the American and Canadian anthems. When it ended, they sat, and the puck was dropped at center ice. "Go, Padalecki!" Jensen was at a hockey game, cheering and yelling, and he'd never been happier. Funny how things work out.
Rating: R for language and sexual content
Fandom/pairing: Supernatural RPF AU, Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Word count: 10k
Warnings: crude language, extreme sappiness, and skewering of a fictional doppleganger of Gary Bettman. The views of the characters are not necessarily the views of the author. Except the Bettman thing, that's pretty much me.
(P.S. A reminder: this is totally made up.)
Summary: After a childhood spent moving all over the US and Canada, living with his uncle Jeff, a professional hockey player and then coach, Jensen Ackles tries to avoid hockey whenever possible. Too bad that his hot one night stand turns out not only to be a hockey player, but one coached by his uncle. Jensen came to Kansas City to give a little family moral support, but now he's stuck in the middle of a team going bankrupt, with a defenseman determined to woo him, and worst of all, he doesn't miss his previous staid, hockey-free existence one bit. Written for spn_meanttobe.
Original prompt: 7. Body Check. Hard body? Check. Awesome-night-in-the-sack potential? Check! Hayden Houston is breaking out of her good-girl mode. It's time for a one-night stand--and she's found just the man for the job! She spent her childhood being dragged from rink to rink by her hockey-coach father. Now Hayden craves stability. And she's determined to get it--after this one night. When hockey star Brody Croft sees the sexy brunette at the bar, he's riveted. He's ready to shed his bad-boy ways and settle down. And after a mind-blowing night in bed with Hayden, he knows she's the one. Now all he has to do is convince her…
Jensen hated the feeling he got after flying. As much as he traveled, he'd never really got used to the unsettling combination of fatigued but wired he got after being stuck in a plane or an airport most of the day. And to make matters worse, his body was still on West Coast time, and he knew that he wouldn't get to sleep until the early hours of the morning.
He still felt the thrum of irritation that he'd have to go visit his uncle and brother tomorrow, pay attention to whatever Josh'd said was going on with the hockey team that they both worked for. Like Jensen hadn't spent most of his childhood in freezing cold hockey rinks, being shuttled around from one town to another, all for hockey. Jeff had been a player in the NHL when Josh and Jensen had gone to live with him after their parents died in a car crash.
After he'd retired from the league, his uncle Jeff had started coaching, and now he was the head coach for the Kansas City Cobras, who'd been added to the league 3 years ago. Josh had played hockey in college and then briefly in the minor leagues; now he was one of the talent coaches for the Cobras. Which was why Jensen found himself in Kansas after he'd been to a conference in Denver, rather than home in his condo overlooking the San Francisco Bay like he'd planned. But as much as Jensen hated hockey, he loved his uncle and brother, and Josh had sounded really worried when Jensen talked to him on the phone. Thus the impromptu flight east rather than west.
Maybe he'd go down to the bar he'd seen as he was checking in, get a drink before coming back to his empty room and reading policy documents until he fell asleep out of self-defense.
Later Jensen would like to have blamed it all on the jet lag, or the Scotch and two beers, but really it was the guy. Not his usual type; he usually dated guys his own age or older, professional, professorial-looking guys, guys who knew what was being offered and what wasn't. This guy was none of those things. He was younger, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt, but he was no kid. He looked like he worked with his hands, easy stance with his messy, non-corporate hair. He was way more built than Jensen usually preferred, but he moved like a dancer or a fighter, graceful with the sense of restrained force behind it. They hadn't talked a lot; the glances had been enough to know they were both on the same page. He hadn't even finished his second beer when by mutual silent agreement they headed for the elevators. And the sex, Jesus Christ… Jensen was no innocent, but he'd never had sex quite that good before.
When Jensen woke up alone the next morning, he told himself he wasn't disappointed. He looked at the name and number left on the hotel notepad for a minute before throwing it in the trash can and turning toward the shower. No point in getting attached. He was only here for a few days, to visit Josh and Jeff and give some moral support, and then it was back to California and back to work. He dressed and grabbed some coffee from the free buffet downstairs before heading to the rink where the Cobras practiced. Last night had been a nice bonus, but it wasn't why he was here, he reminded himself. Time to make an appearance, do his familial duty, and then get the hell out and back home before the hockey drove him nuts.
When Jensen got to the rink, his uncle greeted him with a hug. "Jensen, it's great to see you. Let me show you around." As Jeff showed off the new arena, Jensen tried to fight the feeling of being thrown back to his childhood. The pleasant smell of the ice and the decidedly less pleasant smell of sweaty hockey gear brought back a flood of memories.
Josh had been 10 and Jensen 7 when they'd come to live with Jeff. Josh had been outgoing and sporty, already hockey-mad from his uncle's visits, and he adjusted to the new lifestyle quickly. Jensen had been a shy, awkward kid who'd missed his parents and hated having to always move to new schools where he was the weird new kid who never made many friends. He'd studied hard and gotten a scholarship to college, and he'd promised himself that he'd never be forced to move around on someone else's say-so ever again. And he might have gotten over most of his shyness after 4 years in college, working for a series of tech companies, and getting his MBA, but he still had a negative visceral response to the game of hockey and everything connected to it. But I'm not that kid anymore, Jensen reminded himself, and forced himself to focus on what his uncle was saying.
What happened next proved that fate had a real sense of humor. Jensen thought he was hallucinating when he looked up from the visitor's chair in his Uncle Jeff's office and saw the guy from last night, standing in the doorway wearing a loose t-shirt and gym shorts. Apparently the guy felt the same way, because he was motionless, staring at Jensen. Jeff noticed the silence and looked up from his computer.
"Oh, hey, JT, what's up?," Jeff asked. After a moment with no response, he tried again. "JT?"
The other man - Jeff was calling him JT but the note he'd left had been signed Jared, not that Jensen'd looked at it long enough to memorize it or anything - finally broke the impromptu staring match and turned to Jeff. "Jeff," he said slowly, as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say.
"Yes?" Jeff asked, raising a brow.
JT-Jared scrubbed a hand over his face. "Uh. Right. Fetisov. Can you talk to Fetisov? I know you're busy but he's freaking out about going back to Omaha, and even Alex can't calm him down. Even if you are gonna send him down, could you just tell him that you'll let him know beforehand and not sneak him out of town on a 2 am bus? We've tried to tell him but he's being all Russian about it and getting broody and internally panicking, and he may hit like a mother but he's really just a scared teenager stuck in a foreign country, and I know how much that sucks, so maybe you could talk to him when you have a free minute cause he'll believe you…"
Jared-JT trailed off when Jeff held up a hand. "Sure, I'll talk to Fetisov, no problem. Anything else?"
Jensen couldn't be sure under the tan, but he thought JT-Jared flushed. "Uh, no, that's it."
"Before you go," Jeff said, "this is my nephew, Jensen Ackles, Josh's brother. He's visiting for a few days." He waved a hand in Jensen's direction.
Jensen got up from the chair. "Uh, hey. Nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand, and wondering if Jared-JT would play along. Fortunately, he did.
"Jared, Jared Padalecki," he said, and shook Jensen's hand firmly before walking away quickly.
Jensen was freaked out enough that he headed straight back to his hotel room, claiming urgent work. But after a day spent at the computer, and then dinner at Josh's, where he spent the time either chasing after his hyperactive nephew or holding his baby niece, he'd calmed down enough to attend morning practice the next day. No one had mentioned Jared to him, and why would they? No one knew anything. The last thing anyone who knew him would think he'd do would be hang out with hockey players, let alone sleep with one of them. He couldn't really believe it himself, honestly.
"Hey, little brother, what's up?," Josh greeted him as he sat down beside him in the stands outside the practice ice.
"Hey, man. Did these guys get bigger while I was gone, or what?," Jensen asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
Josh looked down at the players running a drill. "No shit. Every year the kids getting drafted are taller and taller. We drafted this Swedish kid, Michelson, I think he's 6'7" or 6'8", probably not done growing either. Skinny as a rail still, though."
"I met a guy yesterday when I was in Jeff's office, he was really tall," Jensen said, keeping his tone casual even as he cursed himself for opening his mouth. "Big, too."
Josh looked down at where the defensemen were divided into pairs, pointing at one wearing an orange practice jersey. "Who, Padalecki? Hell, he was almost as skinny as the Swede when we brought him up. I think he's put on 40 pounds of pure muscle, the guy's a tank now. Lot better skater than I thought he could be too."
Jensen nodded, trying to ignore the clench in his belly when he thought about his own up-close and personal examination of Jared's musculature.
"Great guy, too," Josh continued. "Gets along with everybody, real even temperament, great to have in the locker room. That's what Jeff says anyway." Josh took a swig of his water bottle. "Surprised to see you here again, man. Haven't you had enough hockey for one visit as usual?"
Jensen ignored Josh's sharp tone. It's not like Josh hadn't been right in the past, and it wasn't the point now anyway. "I read some of the press, bro. The team's really fucked, isn't it?"
"That's what I've been telling you for a season, dumbass," Josh retorted lightly, whacking his brother on the knee. "But yeah, things are pretty messed up. All signs point to the ownership group declaring bankruptcy at the end of the season if not before, and then the league will get involved, and who the fuck knows what'll happen. Commissioner Lehne had a lot invested in this team doing well here, and now he's got serious egg on his face, and Jeff's usual blunt manner on the topic hasn't helped much."
"It's not Jeff's fault," Jensen protested. "He didn't make the city build a new arena and increase ticket prices to recoup the cost, or make the economy tanked so nobody can afford the tickets anymore."
"You're preaching to the choir, man," Josh replied. "But the Commissioner doesn't care about reality, he cares about how it makes him and the league look. Moving a team to Kansas City was his baby, and he's only gonna let it go when he finds an alternative that makes him look even more like a stud. There's been a guy wanting to move the team to Ontario, but Lehne thinks that that'll be too close to other teams nearby. Hopefully somebody'll want us. Somebody with some extra money and not in a horrible location, preferably."
This was the part of living with professional hockey people Jensen did not miss - all the uncertainty, the changes of people and location every season or even more often. He might have changed jobs a lot, but most of the time that had been his decision, not the company's. He didn't want to be dependent, waiting on other people's decisions to determine his future, ever again.
Josh slapped his hands on his knees and stood. "I better get back to it. Flying to the East Coast tomorrow for a scouting trip. You gonna be here when I get back on Tuesday?"
Jensen shrugged. "I'm not sure, my plans are pretty flexible."
"Well, I hope you can stay a while longer, but in case I don't see you when I get back, it was great to see you. It's been too long. Maybe me and Melanie and the kids can get out to San Francisco to visit this summer after the season's over?"
"That would be great," Jensen replied, and hugged his brother. "Travel safely."
"You too," Josh said, "and call Melanie if you want to see the kids before you go. She'd love it, she always gets stir-crazy for adult company when I'm out of town."
So maybe Jensen had stayed for the rest of the morning practice. He was working, answering emails on his Blackberry, and here was good as anywhere else, right? He only stopped and watched Jared's powerful strides eat up the ice as he skated a time or two. Maybe three. He went by his uncle's office to say hey - his offer of dinner was refused, since the team would be leaving late that evening for a game in Calgary tomorrow. When he got to the parking lot, Jared was leaning against his rental car.
"Hey," Jared greeted, pushing his damp hair out of his face. Jensen told himself to ignore how edible Jared looked, skin still flushed from the practice and a shower.
"Hey," Jensen replied quietly.
"Listen, I didn't expect…" Jared trailed off, waving his hands as if he were searching for something more to say.
"Me either," Jensen agreed.
"You and Coach Morgan look nothing alike, man," Jared said with an awkward chuckle.
"Yeah, my mom was the pretty one in that family," Jensen joked.
Jared smiled. "D'ya wanna get some coffee or something?"
"Um. Thanks, but I don't think that's a good idea, man," Jensen replied. "I'm just gonna be in town for a few days and you play for my uncle, and…"
Jared looked disappointed, but he nodded. "Yeah, I understand. I uh, guess I'll see you around?"
Jensen nodded. When Jared had taken a few steps, he called out "Hey, how'd you know this was my car?"
"White late-model Ford sedan? Jensen, nobody but car rental companies and the elderly buy those."
Jensen laughed, waving Jared off.
It's possible that the memory of Jared's wide smile stuck in his head for the rest of the day. But that was only because he was writing project reports all afternoon, which were not the most engrossing things ever.
Jensen groaned as he neared the block where the restaurant was located. An online guidebook had said that Mama Jo's had the best barbeque in Kansas City, and Jensen had thought that dinner would be a good way to distract himself. But it looked like plenty of other people had read the guidebook too; the line of people waiting to be seated was out the door and down the block. Oh well, it's not like I had other plans for the night, beside reviewing emails, and I can do that while I wait. He walked to the end of the line and pulled out his Blackberry.
A few minutes later he was thumbing through entries when he heard someone call his name. He looked up to see Jared and a brown-haired woman standing on the sidewalk near him. "Jared. Hi," Jensen said, a bit hesitantly. Apparently Jared wasn't too upset about being summarily dismissed in the rink parking lot the other day, or he would have passed by and said nothing to Jensen. For himself, Jensen wasn't sure how he felt, other than a little too happy to stare at Jared's broad shoulders underneath his coat.
"Craving for barbeque?," Jared was asking, as Jensen pulled his attention back to what Jared was actually saying.
"I heard it was really good," Jensen replied with a shrug.
"It is pretty good," Jared agreed. "Guess the Amway people heard so too."
"Amway?," Jensen asked.
"There's a national Amway distributors' convention at the convention center," the woman standing beside Jared said. "My hotel's full of 'em."
"This is Rachel, by the way. Rachel, Jensen," Jared said, waving between them. "Jensen's uncle's the head coach of the Cobras," Jared said to Rachel as she and Jensen shook hands.
"Nice to meet you," Jensen said.
"Likewise," she replied, and smiled as they shook hands.
"Are you up for a change of plans?," Jared asked, turning to Rachel.
"Sure, I'm in your hands," Rachel said.
"D'ya wanna come with us?," Jared asked Jensen. "I know this great place, serves killer burgers and barbeque, but it's a bit off the beaten path. Should be less busy."
Jensen looked up at Jared's lively eyes and found himself agreeing before he could think twice.
They grabbed a cab, which dropped them in what looked like a residential, older area. Jared led them down the block and around to the back of a nondescript building. There was an incredible smell and the hum of conversation coming through a screen door.
"Fuck, this is amazing," Jensen groaned, and took another bite of ribs.
"I know, right?," Jared agreed. "The guys took brought me here my rookie year after training camp. Had to pay for all the veterans who came to lunch, but it was worth it. Don't tell the trainer I came here during the season, though, he'd kill me."
"You eat like seven thousand calories a day, Padalecki. I'm gonna have to be on bread and water for the rest of the week to fit into my clothes," Rachel complained cheerfully. She was halfway through a giant burger and basket of fries - which she was dipping into mayo, which Jensen found a little weird, but whatever.
"You know you're beautiful to me at any size," Jared joked in a smarmy voice.
"Fat lot of good that does me," Rachel grumped, but teasingly.
"You know I'll always be your sugar daddy," Jared said.
Rachel snorted. "Sugar daddy. When I met you you couldn't afford long enough pants, boy."
Jared smiled. "Times change." The two shared a look, mostly fond, but Jensen thought he saw the remembrance of painful times behind it.
"Where did you two meet?," Jensen asked.
"We met in New Brunswick," Rachel responded. "I was the weather girl for the local TV station, and one day the sports guy got the flu. They sent me to cover the local minor league hockey game, and Jared put up with my horrendous interviewing technique."
"You weren't that bad," Jared protested. Rachel gave him an even look, and he chuckled. "OK, you weren't as smooth as you are now. Anyway, we hit it off, and she put up with me following her around when my 4, count them 4 roommates in a two-bedroom apartment were driving me nuts."
"BFFs forever," Rachel agreed. "What about you, Jensen? What's your story? You don't seem like the sports type, really."
"My uncle was an NHL player when we went to live with him, my brother and I, after our parents died. Now he's a coach and my brother's a scout for the Cobras. He played in the minor leagues for a while," Jensen explained.
"But you never played?", Rachel asked.
Maybe it was the beer, but Jensen found himself answering bluntly. "No, I never was interested. Actually, I hated hockey."
"You hated hockey?", Jared exclaimed incredulously.
Rachel laughed. "Not everyone eats, sleeps and breathes hockey like you, Jay."
As they were finishing the ridiculously tasty apple pie they'd ordered for dessert, Rachel looked at her watch and cursed. "Shit, I gotta get going. My flight leaves in two hours." She stacked her cutlery and napkins on top of her plate.
"D'ya want me to come with you?," Jared asked. "I'm sorry, I totally lost track of time."
"Nah, it's fine. This is it for my luggage," she said, gesturing toward the rolling tote by her chair. "I'll just catch a cab and head straight to the airport." The three of them got up and cleaned their table before heading outside.
"It was very nice to meet you, Jensen," Rachel said, as she climbed into the back of a cab. "Keep this guy out of trouble, will you?"
Jensen fumbled for something to say, and was rescued by Jared. "Stop meddling, Rach. Call me when you get home, yeah?"
Rachel nodded and waved, which Jared returned. After the cab had turned at the end of the block, Jared turned to Jensen. "Do you have to head back? I can get another cab."
Jensen had some unit testing specs to review, but it was the last thing he felt like doing right now. "I'm in no hurry, really."
"We could walk back," Jared said hesitantly. "It's a nice night, not too cold yet, and it's not that far."
Which is how Jensen found himself walking along a suburban Kansas City street with a hockey player in something that felt a lot like the end of a first date. Was it still a first date if the people involved had already seen each other naked?, Jensen found himself wondering.
"Rachel seems really nice," Jensen said, to break the silence.
"She's great," Jared agreed. "We hit it off when we met, and we've been friends ever since. Even after I tried to date her and totally freaked the fuck out."
"That sounds… not good," Jensen said weakly.
"Yeah, that's an understatement," Jared agreed. "It was my own fault, I guess. I mean, she was awesome, made me laugh, and she was gorgeous. Why wouldn't I want to date her?"
"Maybe because she's a girl?", Jensen offered. He had a bad idea where this was heading.
"Yeeeaaaahh," Jared said with emphasis. "I was still hoping those random crushes I'd had on guys were just because I wanted to skate like them, not sleep with them. But that got blown totally out of the water. Rachel was amazing, helped talk me down from my freakout, convinced me I could keep playing hockey even if I was into guys."
"And is it OK?", Jensen asked. "Being gay and a professional hockey player, I mean."
"Yeah, it's all right. My friends, the guys I trust, they all know. I wish I didn't have to be so secretive all the time, but… Maybe someday soon. What about you?," Jared asked.
"Well, nothing dramatic like you," Jensen replied. "I had a couple girlfriends in high school, more friends than anything else. I figured I just hadn't found anyone that I really liked. I guess I was right, anyway; after I got to college I met this guy and we really hit it off, and that was that, I guess. No big drama. Fortunately my brother and Uncle Jeff were cool about it."
Jared slowed as they got to a crosswalk. "This is my place, actually," he said, and waved to an apartment building behind them. "Do you want to come up, have a drink or something. Just a drink. If you want."
"I better not," Jensen said.
Jared nodded. "I understand. I'll see you around, yeah?"
Jensen nodded and started to turn away, and then turned back. "Jared?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to have dinner again sometime while I'm here? Not a date, just hanging out?"
Jared smiled. "Sure, that sounds great."
What the hell was that, you moron? You spent days telling yourself to let it go, that dating a hockey player would be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and then you ask him to dinner? Jensen tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, thinking about Jared, and hockey, and work, and Jared.
Jensen saw the caller ID on his cellphone and smiled. He was surprised it'd taken Danneel so long to call. "Dan, hey, how are you?"
"I'm good, Jenny," Danneel replied, sarcasm thick in her voice. "How 'bout you? The big boss said you're taking some more time off? We expected you to be back in the office raring to go the day after the conference ended. I heard you kicked serious ass in your presentation, by the way."
"Thanks. It went well, got some good contacts too," Jensen replied.
"So not the interesting part of my questions, Jensen, what's going on?"
"My brother called," Jensen replied, "said there was some shifty stuff happening at the Cobras, so I decided to fly out, visit him and my uncle for a few days."
"The Cobras?," Danneel asked.
"The hockey team my uncle coaches and that my brother scouts for," Jensen said.
"Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning that sometime," Danneel said. "Everything OK?"
"Josh and Uncle Jeff are fine, although the team's going bankrupt. Nobody's sure if they'll have jobs next year, which sucks. I, uh, I thought I'd stick around a few more days, give them moral support, hang out with my niece and nephew."
"You haven't been driven crazy yet? Even I remember your drunken rant at last year's holiday party about how much you hate hockey, and I was drunker than you were at the time."
Jensen winced at the memory. He and his team had been in the middle of a hectic corporate software upgrade project, working all kinds of overtime, and the liquor at the company Christmas party had gone straight to his sleep-deprived head. He'd managed to offend one of the regional managers, who it turned out was a big hockey fan himself and owned season tickets to the team that played in Denver. Fortunately the guy wasn't the type to hold a grudge, and they'd worked together smoothly at the recent conference.
"It's not that bad," Jensen replied. "I'm surviving."
"Holy shit! I know that tone in your voice," Danneel exclaimed. "Did you meet a guy?"
"No. Yes. Maybe, I don't know."
"Tell me everything."
"It's not anything, Danny, it's just… having a little fun," Jensen said.
"OK, OK. I'll get it out of you after the honeymoon." Danneel ignored Jensen's sputtering. "I gotta go, got a meeting. Text me. And have some fun! You deserve it."
As the doorman let him into Jared's building, Jensen thought again about backing out. But the pleased note in Jared's voice when he'd called was stuck in his memory. They'd arranged to meet and go out to a local grill for steaks. When he knocked on Jared's door, there was a call of "just a sec" from inside. Jensen waited, until a minute later the door was pulled open by Jared. Jared, who was… half-naked?
"Sorry, practice went long," Jared said. Jensen nodded dumbly as he watched Jared's muscled torso disappearing under the shirt he was pulling over his head. "Just give me a sec." His head popped through the neck of the tight-fitting undershirt. He should have looked ridiculous with his hair sticking up every which way, but Jensen was caught by the look in his eyes. "God, you're hot," Jared said. "Every time I think I must have imagined how much, that I'm exaggerating in my head, and then I see you again and you're even hotter than I remembered."
Jensen flushed at the straightforward lust in Jared's voice.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Sometimes my mouth completely bypasses my brain," Jared said.
"It's OK," Jensen said softly. It was only fair; he'd been thinking the same thing about Jared, he just hadn't said it out loud.
"So, steaks? Let me get my shirt."
Jensen couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much. Jared had such a wry turn of phrase, making things like teammates' pranks funnier than Jensen had imagined. Jensen found himself back at Jared's condo after dinner without even thinking about it. "Another beer?," Jared asked.
"I, uh, I better get going, actually," Jensen said. He'd totally meant to keep it friendly, impersonal, but Jared was so engaging he made him forget his worries about their relationship.
Jared turned and looked at him steadily. "Listen, hear me out for a second here, and then it's totally your call, OK?"
"OK," Jensen said slowly.
"I understand you have to go home soon, and I know the thing with your uncle is kinda weird, but… Jensen, I like you, and I think you like me. If we want to have some fun while you're here, we're not hurting anybody. We don't have to make it awkward if we don't want to," Jared said, waving his hands around to express his point.
"What you're saying is you want to sleep with me again," Jensen said.
"What I'm saying is I want to hang out with you, Jensen," Jared said. "OK, and sleep with you. Who the fuck wouldn't?"
Jensen had to smile at Jared's emphatic statement. "No strings?", he said, just to clarify things.
"If that's what you want, yeah," Jared said.
"OK."
"OK?"
"OK."
"Wow, romantic. I think I may swoon," Jared joked.
Jensen grinned, feeling happier than he had in days. Maybe years. "I think I may kick your ass, swooner," he said, and headed in Jared's direction. The other man let out a girly shriek and ran into his bedroom, and Jensen followed, laughing all the way.
Jared listened to his voicemail as soon as he turned his phone back on after the plane landed, but he waited to call Jensen back until he got to his truck. "Hey, Jensen. We just got back."
"Good trip?"
"Eh, OK. Wish we'd won," Jared replied.
"You have practice later?", Jensen asked.
"No, we've got the rest of the day off, thank god," Jared replied.
"If you wanted to come over…" Jensen trailed off when there was no response.
Jared suddenly realized that Jensen couldn't see him grinning and punching a fist in triumph. "Yeah, absolutely," he said hurriedly. "Just give me an hour to dump off my stuff and take a shower."
"I have a better idea," Jensen said.
"What?"
"It just so happens that my hotel room has a walk-in shower with wall jets. Oh, and me."
"I'll be there in 20 minutes," Jared said, and grinned wider as he started his engine.
"So not that I don't appreciate being able to hang out with you all day, but don't you have a job?," Jared asked hesitantly. "Are you on vacation?"
"Half on vacation, half working remotely, I guess," Jensen replied. "I'd just finished a big project in downtown San Francisco before coming here, so I've mostly been catching up on paperwork and prepping for whatever I get assigned to next."
"Lucky me," Jared said, and kissed him, settling back on the sofa. A few minutes later Jensen asked "I'm not getting in your way, am I? Keeping you from practicing?"
"I thought you hated hockey," Jared replied in a teasing tone. Ever since Jensen had let slip his conflicted history and childhood hatred of hockey, Jared hadn't let him forget it.
"I do, mostly, but I don't hate you," Jensen said. "Besides, I don't need Uncle Jeff to rip me a new one for distracting his star defenseman right before the end of the season."
"Star defenseman?"
"Spare me your fake modesty, man, I can read the sports page, even if I don't usually," Jensen said with a smile. Jared was having a great year, even though the team wasn't doing that well in the standings.
Jared smiled and shrugged. "It's the end of the season, and unless every team in front of us in the conference loses practically every remaining game, we're not gonna make the playoffs. I'm not slacking off, I give it my all when I'm on the ice, but I don't need to go to extra practices or anything. Especially if I can spend that time with you. Preferably naked, in bed," Jared said, but was interrupted by his own stomach growling.
Jensen chuckled. "Or maybe dressed and in the Italian place down the street?"
Jared mock pouted. "OK. But only because I love lasagna almost as much as I … I love you naked."
"Glad to know where I rate," Jensen replied.
"'Uncle Jeff,'" Jared repeated, after swallowing a bite of lasagna. "What was it like growing up with him? He's such a straight-shooter and a smart-ass I can't imagine him with little kids."
"It was a little weird at first. We were little kids, we liked him as an uncle, he brought us presents when he visited, you know? And then mom and dad were gone, and he was supposed to be our parental figure. I realize now that he was just as at sea; he did the best he could. But it was an adjustment. I think it was easier for Josh in some ways. He loved living with a hockey star, and he was outgoing, made new friends everywhere we moved. Me, every time we changed schools I threw up on the first day of school. And we changed schools a lot."
"I'm sorry. That must have sucked," Jared said.
"I got over it," Jensen said, and shrugged. "So I worked my ass off in school and got a scholarship to college so I could get a kickass job where people would respect me and couldn't force me to move anywhere. And now, irony of ironies, I've got a job that sends me all over the country and forces me to work with new people all the time."
"You seem to like it, though," Jared said.
"Yeah, most of the time. The travel gets old sometimes, but the problems we're working on are challenging, and I really like running my own team of people." Jensen drank some more of his wine.
"What about you? Is being a hockey player all you dreamed of as a kid?"
"Mostly I dreamed of anything that would get me the hell out of my hometown," Jared said.
"That doesn't sound good," Jensen replied.
"It wasn't that bad, really. It's just that it was a tiny town, and people talked. And gossiped, like it was 50 years ago. My mom was the unwed mother, and I was the poor bastard child, no matter what else we did. And kids can be cruel too. My mom worked a lot, trying to make ends meet, but we never had a lot. I was always in second-hand clothes, home alone because my mom was at a second or third job. So I started hanging out at rink in town because it was open at night, and convinced the guys who ran it to let me join a kids' league in exchange for helping clean the place, and the rest is history, I guess."
"Does your mom like hockey?," Jensen asked.
"All right, I guess. She didn't mind it when I was a kid, it kept me out of trouble, except for the equipment being so expensive. I was always mowing lawns, whatever I could do to get extra money, and I still never could pay it all without her help. When I get older, started joining the traveling teams, she didn't like it. She thought it was a waste of time, that I should concentrate on school, go to college." Jared rolled his eyes.
"Not a fan of school?," Jensen asked.
"I sucked at school," Jared replied flatly. "In hockey I could see the plays, see how everyone fit together and how it made patterns and stuff. But in school I looked at the books and they didn't make sense, no matter what the teachers said. It was boring, I never had the right clothes, and the kids sucked." Jared cleared his throat. "Other than that it was fine," he said with a forced laugh.
"We're so different, you and I," Jensen mused.
"Opposites attract, right?"
"That might help explain how I'm dating a hockey player," Jensen replied.
"Might explain why I'm dating a nerd."
Jensen pretended to be offended.
"Fortunately you're a very hot nerd," Jared said quickly, which made Jensen smile.
The waitress came by to clear their plates and left a dessert menu. "Dessert?," asked Jared, flipping through it.
"A, not all of us need to eat like professional hockey players, and B, I had a better idea of what to do for dessert," Jensen replied.
Jared looked up from the menu and grinned at the hot look in Jensen's eyes. "Check, please!"
Jensen hadn't gone to the Cobras game. He'd had a teleconference with some subcontractors in Hong Kong that had dragged on for 3-plus hours. He was watching game highlights while waiting for his room-service dinner to arrive when he heard a knock on his door. To his surprise, it wasn't the waiter but Jared who stood at the door. "What happened to you?," Jensen asked. Jared's face was swollen and there were stitches near his left eye.
"Checked into the glass, caught a stanchion, looks worse than it is," Jared replied, his swollen lip slurring his words a bit.
"That's good, because it looks like shit," Jensen quipped. He hesitated. "You wanna…" He waved a hand toward the inside of the hotel room.
"If you don't mind. I just didn't feel like going home, but I don't wanna impose."
"Nah, come on in," Jensen said.
They switched from hockey highlights to a basketball game, and were busy trash-talking each other's respective teams when a knock came on the door. Jensen got up to open the door.
"You hungry?," Jensen asked, after the room service guy had left. "I could order you something more, or a beer or something?"
"No," Jared said, "I'm good. Beer on top of the painkillers'd probably knock me totally out."
As Jensen ate his burger and Jared stole a few fries, they watched the game. Jared's contributions came less and less. When halftime came, Jensen looked over to see Jared sprawled over on his side, asleep. Jensen covered him with an extra blanket and tried to ignore his solid warmth on the other side of the sofa.
When the game ended, Jensen turned off the TV and the lights in the living area. Jared stirred and murmured something Jensen didn't catch. "Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up a little," Jensen said.
"C'n call cab," Jared managed to slur.
"You're dead on your feet, man, just crash here," Jensen said. He managed to get Jared somewhat ambulatory and walked him over to the large hotel bed, and then wrestled his shoes and jeans off before Jared collapsed on the bed and fell back to sleep, turning his face into the pillow and making noises that Jensen really didn't think were cute. Really.
Jensen checked his email, made notes on a couple issues to check on tomorrow, and used the bathroom before stripping off his own clothes and climbing into the other side of the bed. Suddenly he was enveloped in a bear hug, Jared's long arms and legs wrapping around him. "Hi," Jared murmured against the side of his neck.
"Hi," Jensen managed back as Jared gently bit his earlobe. "I thought you were asleep."
"Who wants to sleep when there's someone amazing like you in their bed," Jared said, and punctuated his message with kisses along Jensen's neck and shoulder.
"I bet you can have whoever you want in your bed."
"Not really. And there's no comparison anyway," Jared said, ending the conversation by turning Jensen's face toward him and kissing him deeply.
At one point Jensen managed to ask about whether they were making Jared's injuries worse.
"My face has stitches, not my dick," Jared said, and brought Jensen's attention back to what they'd been doing. Fair enough point, Jensen thought, and then he stopped thinking altogether.
"Coach Morgan, how do you respond to reports that the team may be moving to Seattle next year?"
"I don't," Jeff replied tightly. "It would be irresponsible of me to reply to idle speculation."
"Do you know more about the future of the team?", another press person asked.
"Well, I'm hoping that we can keep winning, get some more guys back from the IR," Jeff said.
The same reporter spoke up again. "I meant, do you know more about the financial future of the team?"
"No, I don't. And if I did, I'm not dumb enough to tell you guys without permission."
There were a few awkward chuckles. Jeff took a sip of water and screwed the cap back on the bottle firmly.
A question came from the local TSN stringer: "Do you think that the present uncertainty has affected the players?"
"Absolutely not. They're professional athletes, and they know how to keep their focus. If anyone's causing uncertainty, it's the media, for fixating on this issue and not covering the actual hockey games. Any more questions?" Jeff waited through only a few moments of silence before getting up from the table and walking away.
Josh threw his head in his hands and groaned. "How can he keep doing this?"
"It's not that bad, is it? I think it's funny," Jensen replied. They were sitting in Josh's office, watching post-game coverage, specifically Jeff's turn at the post-game press conference.
"It won't be funny when the commissioner decides to move us to Timbuktu, Saskatchewan, and you'll have to wear snow boots to visit, all year round," Josh replied with emphasis.
"Now they're talking about Saskatchewan, really?"
"No, I don't think so. But somewhere equally remote and assy, if Jeff doesn't play ball with the reporters. He and Commissioner Lehne have always rubbed each other the wrong way, but with this whole bankruptcy crisis…"
"That sucks," Jensen replied. "What'll happen to you guys, to the coaches and their jobs?"
"Depends on what the new owner wants," Josh said, and shrugged. "Sometimes they keep the old guys, sometimes they want to start new with a new set of coaches, scouts, whatever."
"What about the players?," Jensen found himself asking.
"The players?" Josh looked a bit surprised at the question. "They'll go to the new location, if they've still got a contract. If they're going to be free agents or whatever at the end of the season, anything could happen. I doubt the team'll be re-signing a lot of guys until after the bankruptcy thing gets worked out one way or the other."
Josh had been acting weird all through dinner, but he hadn't said anything about it. Finally Melanie took the kids up to get ready for bed, a look passing between her and Josh like they'd planned something.
"What's up?," Jensen asked carefully.
Josh just looked at him for a minute. "You know, if I wasn't such an awesome big brother I could give you so much shit for sleeping with an NHL player, after all your years of hating hockey and everything associated with it."
Jensen inhaled sharply.
Josh answered his silent question. "Don't worry, I doubt anyone else knows. But your uncharacteristic sticking around in town and interest in the team, combined with how Assistant Coach Lindberg said something about how Padalecki's been distracted recently, and it got me watching you two a bit closer than I would normally. I know your lovesick look, I remember it too well from when we were in high school and you followed Chris around like a puppy."
"We're not. I mean we're just having fun, I'm not in love or anything," Jensen protested.
Josh hmmed, looking unconvinced. "Whatever you say, dude." He paused. "Just… Listen, from all I know Padalecki's a great guy, and all his friends know he's gay. But still, he's a professional hockey player, you know? I just don't want to see you hurt."
"Yeah, I know," Jensen said. "Thanks, bro."
Jared gave up on pushing his dinner around on his plate and pulled the cordless phone out of its cradle. He dialed a long distance number.
"Jim Beaver," the voice on the other end said.
"Hey, Jim. It's Jared. Padalecki."
"Jared! How are ya, son?," Jim replied. "It's been a while."
"I'm doing OK. Not sure if I'll have a job next year, but I'm OK."
"Yeah, I've heard about the money problems in Kansas City, that's too bad. But I'm sure you'll get picked up somewhere; you're twelfth in the league in offense among defenseman, and fifth in hits, last I looked," Jim said.
"I hope so," Jared said.
"Now that doesn't sound like the relentlessly cheerful kid I remember," Jim said. "Something wrong?"
"I met someone," Jared said.
"Ah-ha."
"And it was great. He was, is great. But now, he's got to go back home soon, and I don't know where I'm gonna be, and I can't just tell people about it, and… It just sucks, that's all, and I don't know what to do." Jared raked his hair off his forehead with his free hand.
"All right, take a breath, son. Let's start from the beginning. Tell me about him?"
As Jared talked with Jim, he was reminded of the many times they had done this when Jared was younger. Jim had been the conditioning coach for a minor league team in Quebec that had invited Jared to their training camp. He'd made the team by the skin of his teeth, and Jim had spent the next 6 months totally remaking his body with new workouts and nutrition. Half his teammates and most of his neighbors hadn't even spoken English, so he ended up spending a lot of time in Jim's basement gym. He'd provided Jared with a fatherly perspective when Jared had sorely needed one, and gave him a lot of good advice about what he needed to do if he wanted to be a successful professional hockey player. The day Jared had decided to tell Jim he was gay he threw up twice before he even made it to Jim's place. After he'd gotten it out Jim had looked him in the eye and thanked him for trusting him, and Jared had never felt such relief in his life.
"But he's never said anything about trying to stay together or seeing each other again," Jared said.
"Have you?"
"Well, no, but I know he's got a job he loves in California, and he spent so much time being dragged along with his uncle when he was a kid and hated it," Jared replied.
"Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you, kid. Maybe he thinks that you wouldn't even be interested, that you won't mind when he leaves. You can't know what he's thinking unless you ask him," Jim said.
"Yeah, I guess."
"From everything you've said, this guy seems to like you. He's stayed longer than he planned, and he went out with you in the first place, even though he didn't have the best associations with hockey. Just don't shut any doors prematurely."
When Jared hung up he felt much calmer. He happily heated up his leftovers in the microwave and ate them. No point in wasting perfectly good food.
"I'm sorry you guys didn't make the playoffs," Jensen said.
Jared took another sip of beer and shrugged. "It wasn't likely we'd do that well, anyway. Not much point in getting into the first round just to get our asses kicked by Detroit." They were sitting in a quiet bar after the Cobras' last game. They'd been nursing beers and eating peanuts, just talking.
The bartender came by. "Last call, guys, want anything?"
They shook their heads. Jensen checked his watch. "Shit, how'd it get to be 2?"
Jared finished his beer and turned to him with an intent gaze. "Come home with me."
"Jared, I'm leaving tomorrow…"
"I know. It's OK. Come home with me," Jared repeated.
As Jensen flopped sweaty and replete beside Jared on his bed, he blinked away tears. He'd thought on the first night they'd hooked up that the sex couldn't have been hotter. He'd been wrong. Every time it'd gotten better as they got to know each other's bodies and preferences. More than that, each time the sense of connection between them grew. And this time there'd been an overlay of desperation, of feasting before a famine.
"Can I call you?," Jared asked abruptly.
"Huh?"
"Can I call you? I mean, I won't if you don't want me to or anything."
Jensen reached out to grasp Jared's hand with his own. "Of course you can call me. I want you to."
They lay in silence for a few minutes.
"What do hockey players do for the summer, anyway? You gonna sit around and catch up on your soaps?," Jensen teased.
"My mom wants me to visit. They, my mom and her boyfriend, they just moved to a new house on the lake," Jared replied.
"That sounds nice," Jensen replied.
"Yeah, we'll see. We love each other, we just get along better in small doses. What about you, your summer?"
"I'll have to see what new project Kripke puts me on, I guess. He probably thinks I've been possessed by demons; I've never taken off so much time before."
"I hope it won't cause problems," Jared said.
"Nah, Kripke was always worried I'd flip out from working too much. Besides, whatever happens, it was worth it."
And even if Jensen was swallowing past a lump in his throat as he boarded his plane the next morning, he still felt the same.
Jensen was a million miles away, idly listening to the music on his MP3 player as he walked back from the BART station to his condo. He really needed to stop listening to the playlists he'd made after he left Jared in Kansas City. The sad, contemplative music was just what he'd been in the mood for when he got back, but now he knew he needed to snap out of it, to stop mooning and get on with his life. He just wasn't quite ready to let his memories of Jared go. They'd talked and texted a few times in the six weeks since they'd seen each other; Jared had been in Minnesota visiting his mother, but every time he heard Jared's voice he missed him more.
He was startled when he got to the bottom of the flight of stairs to his building and realized there was someone sitting on his front stoop. Someone who looked a lot like the same person he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for over a month. "Jared!"
Jared unfolded himself from the steps. "Uh, hi. I hope you don't mind, I convinced your brother to give me your address."
Jensen waved a hand. "Sure, it's fine. What are you doing here?"
"Well, that's kind of a long story. Can I come in?," Jared asked, swiping his hand through his hair in a gesture that made Jensen's heart clench in recognition.
After they got to his apartment, Jensen put down his messenger bag and gave Jared the nickel tour.
"I love the view," Jared said, as he stood at the sliding glass door that led to the tiny balcony, looking out over the hills as they dropped away underneath them, the red and white microwave transmission tower on Twin Peaks poking out on their right.
"That's why I got it," Jensen said. "Where else can you see a view like that? Sometimes when the fog's coming in I turn off the lights and just sit here, watching it slowly roll over the hills." He cleared his throat. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, that's OK," Jared said, shaking his head. He turned and walked toward Jensen. "I wasn't here just to see you, Jensen. I was down in San Jose."
"Oh yeah. How come?" Wasn't there an NHL team in San Jose? Jensen's heart started beating a bit faster. His past habit of ignoring everything hockey-related wasn't helping out right now.
"I think I told you that I'm a free agent this year," Jared said, and Jensen nodded, not that had meant much to him at the time. "Basically that means I can sign with another team in the league. And the Cobras have offered to extend my contract, but they're not offering much more money. And honestly I'm not thrilled to sign with a team that doesn't even know where it's going to be playing next season." Jared stopped and took a breath. "I'm babbling, sorry. Basically the upshot of the deal is that the team in San Jose wants to make me an offer. It's not a done deal yet, I told them I had to check with someone, but they're interested."
"What exactly are you saying, Jared?"
"I'm saying that I could live here, I could be here. I can't promise I'd never be traded, there's no way I can do that, and I know that that's one of the things that bothers you, but. I won't sign with San Jose if you don't want me to, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I understand if you've moved on and…"
Jensen reached out and put a finger on Jared's lips, and Jared fell silent. Jensen really should think about this. He should really figure out if he can deal with dating a hockey player, of all the trips and away games and publicity and the chance that he could be traded halfway across the country with no notice, just like it had happened with his uncle when he was a kid, and.
"Yes."
"Yes?," Jared echoed, his mouth moving underneath Jensen's hand. He started to grin, and Jensen felt himself smiling back.
"Yes." Jensen moved into Jared's embrace, and he'd never felt more at home in his life.
EPILOGUE
"Nice seats, bro," Jensen said as they settled themselves in the first tier of the seats with their beers. They were about 10 rows back from the glass between the seats and the ice surface. Jared's team was playing the Cobras - now called the Dynamos - in their new arena in Hamilton, Ontario. Jensen had arranged to come along, see Jeff and Josh, and take in a game.
"I know a guy," Josh said, and then laughed. "No, actually, this is a treat. Usually if I'm even in the arena for a game I'm watching in the office or up in the press box talking to someone."
They stood up to let by someone who had seats farther down the row.
"You know, a year ago if someone had told me you'd come to an NHL game with me, in fact ask nicely for a ticket, I'd have told them they were smoking something illegal," Josh said.
"Yeah, well, things change," Jensen said with a small smile, as they sat back down. "And speaking of which, you seem to be settled into the new job."
"It's working out OK, although it's taking Melanie and the kids a while to adjust to Canada. Jeff's here, he brought most of the coaches with him, so a lot of the structure's the same. And I must admit it is nice to not have to worry about every last penny."
"Getting bought by a tech billionaire crazy about hockey seems to have worked out ok," Jensen replied.
"The league was hard to convince, but apparently enough money can convince anyone, including Lehne," Josh said. "So far the ticket sales have been pretty good. I mean, it's Canada, and you can't get tickets for the established teams less than a year ahead of time, so the demand's been good. Now we just have to string some victories together, prove that we're not some novelty from Kansas."
"Will you take it wrong if I say you can wait for another victory until after this game?"
"Hey, I might have to tell Uncle Jeff," Josh protested jokingly.
"I gotta root for my boy. He'll understand," Jensen replied.
"Look at you, all in love and shit," Josh said with a gentle shove to Jensen's shoulder. Jensen rolled his eyes and ignored him. "Seriously, I'm glad you're happy. And I'm glad I was wrong, that it all worked out."
Jensen smiled. There had been some rough patches, some arguments and unresolved issues. But even with the problems, Jensen was happy. Maybe not as happy as he was during the summer when Jared had been at home all the time, but it wasn't like Jensen didn't have to travel, too. They were doing their best to schedule being home at the same time, and mornings when Jensen was awakened by Jared, warm and damp from the shower, snuggling up to him, were quickly becoming his favorite thing. They'd even talked about getting a dog - or Jared had talked about getting a dog, and Jensen had said they'd need to get a bigger place first, with a yard. He'd looked at a few house listings on the sly, although he hadn't told Jared about it yet. Maybe next off-season.
The lights dimmed, and Jensen and Josh stood for the singing of the American and Canadian anthems. When it ended, they sat, and the puck was dropped at center ice. "Go, Padalecki!" Jensen was at a hockey game, cheering and yelling, and he'd never been happier. Funny how things work out.