NC-17 | Broken Bone | Part 3
Previous
Two weeks pass and Jared’s ready for solid work on the treadmill lined up among a handful of other workout machines in his gym. They’ve been literally baby-stepping to right Jared’s stance and give him the confidence to put real weight on his knee, but now Jared’s going steadily on the machine and Jensen’s eyes are glued on the pace and bend of his joints and the way his foot rolls on the reel.
“Did you really win money on my knee?” Jared asks.
Jensen glances up to see Jared staring across the room with trickles of sweat smearing near his ears when he pushes hair away from his face. It’s been a long two weeks with Jensen talking Jared into more intense exercises and heavier weights on his ankle, easy conversation replacing obnoxious innuendos, not to mention Jensen’s own fear of the ways Danneel and Chris could terrify him after he talked too much that one night. Luckily, Jared and Jensen have each come out safe in both matters.
“How long’ve you been waiting to ask about that?”
“A while,” Jared chuckles. “That first day, you said a hundred.”
“I did,” he nods and smiles.
“How’d you know?”
Jensen taps a few buttons to incline the machine. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a physical therapist.”
“Shut up,” Jared pants a little with the increase.
“PCLs are common in female athletes,” he replies idly, eyes trained on Jared’s knee as Jared adjusts to new angle.
“That’s pretty insulting, man.”
Jensen laughs and stands next to the console, resting a hand on it as he watches Jared’s chest rise and fall comfortably. “You have slim hips and long legs. Not too far from a lady.”
“So, you have been checking me out?”
“And you were being so nice lately. I should’ve known the shoe would drop.”
“I’ve been trying,” Jared insists.
Jensen nods, and somehow he’s not reluctant to say, “I’ve been noticing.”
Jared looks at him with a small, strange smile, then turns forward and breathes deep as he keeps jogging. “So, I have tiny hips and giant legs, and I’m prone to ripping up my PCL?”
“Yeah, kinda. It’s the way you turn on your knees with the bulk of your weight in your upper body. I saw the thing replayed enough to see that.”
“I thought you didn’t watch basketball?”
“Coworkers put it on in the break room while I was in there,” Jensen says dryly. “You were the hot topic in the clinic for a while.”
“You guys bet on injuries all the time?” Jared asks oddly.
Jensen chuckles and raises the incline another level. “Yeah, they tend to. They’ve got an unhealthy obsession.”
“Did they bet on how long you’d last?”
He watches Jared and how he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek. He has no clue why Jared’s asking, or even why Jared seems weird about it. “Not that I know of.”
“You’ve lasted longer than I thought you would.”
Jensen’s the one now biting into his mouth, trying to not smile. “Yeah, me too.”
+++
Jensen lets himself into the house to terse voices carrying from the kitchen. He’s not up for eavesdropping, but it’s hard to ignore.
“The important thing is you’re up and around. You’re looking good.”
That voice is new, but the loud, angry, “The important thing is you being a fucking snake,” is definitely Jared.
“Hey,” the other guy laughs. “You weren’t the first guy I signed, and you’re not gonna be my last.”
“You said I was your money ball,” Jared argues. “That you’d take us both straight to the bank.”
“And have I done anything but pad your bank account? You’re not going dry in Chicago, far as I can tell.”
“You’re walking around with Burton like he’s the goddamn prom king. How about that?”
Another laugh, though haughty this time, and the guy says, “While you’re on the bench, I’ve gotta keep up my business, Jay. C’mon.”
“Oh shut your … I’m not on the fucking bench.”
“Can you nail a layup yet?”
Jensen wasn’t planning on intruding, but he’s not about to waste most of their session standing in the foyer listening to this conversation. He steps into the kitchen doorway and does his best to not look intimidated by the strong set of Jared’s stance and bitter look or the dark haired guy across the island from him in a high-end pressed shirt and slacks.
“Oh, God, Jared,” the guy groans, looking right at Jensen. “You promised me you weren’t screwing around with dick anymore. I can only hide so much”
Without thought, Jensen shoots out, “I’m his physical therapist.” He has enough good sense to sound offended, because he seriously is. “What’s going on?”
“Jensen,” Jared says mockingly bright as he glares at the other guy. “Meet Matt, my agent. I’m sure you’ve seen his ugly mug all over the TV with his favorite client.”
Truthfully, Matt is anything but ugly with strong angles to his face and a fit body that’s obvious with the way his clothes cling to him, but Jensen’s not about to do the guy any favors. So, when Matt approaches him and goes to shake his hand with a charming smile and introduction, Jensen barely responds more than to insist a bit angrily, “Jared’s doing good. He’s bouncing right back.” He’s not sure where he’s feeling the need to defend Jared, but it’s here and coming before he can stop it. “He’s not gonna ride any bench.”
“That’s great to hear,” Matt smiles. “Hopefully before the All Star break. Get a little excitement drummed up for the trade deadline.”
Now, Jensen feels the challenge professionally. “Pre-season. I guarantee it.”
“Really?” Matt chuckles, then grins at Jared. “Well, good, Jay. You’re surrounding yourself with positive attitudes. Just like I’ve always said you should.”
Surprisingly, Jared hardly reacts to Matt’s words and is instead watching Jensen, face unreadable.
Matt pats Jensen’s shoulder then points a finger at Jared with another smooth smile. “You keep up the good work, pal, and we’ll start talking about options. Miami’s nice all year round. Or maybe we’ll get you back to San Antonio after all.”
Jensen slides his eyes to Jared’s just as Jared cuts his look to Matt, obviously seething but keeping his mouth shut. He has no clue what’s going on here, but it’s not pretty, so he leans back on the silver fridge behind him and watches the stand-off.
“It’s good seeing you up on your feet,” Matt insists with something more genuine. He pats Jensen’s shoulder again, and smiles at him. “You’re a magician, man. Everyone was afraid he’d never step foot on a court again.”
“He will,” Jensen pushes.
“All thanks to you.” Matt grins again, pointing at Jensen, and Jesus, Jensen would love to break that finger right off.
Then Matt’s gone, leaving Jared and Jensen staring at the empty doorway he’d just stepped through. Jensen feels unsettled from the entire exchange, and more so at the sudden need to take Jared’s side. Or even why his temper is flared, or how he’s feeling any bit of real empathy for Jared throughout the conversation.
“They really think you’re not gonna play?” Jensen asks, trying to pull his brain away from any thoughts on why he’d said all that he did.
“Matt’s an agent,” Jared spits out as he crosses the room. “He’ll go wherever the hottest player is.”
“And you’re not right now?”
“You know that better than I do.”
Jensen sees how Jared’s chest is pressing out with his harsh, troubled breathing, and he’s not sure what to say, or even not to. “What’s the Miami thing, or San Antonio? Are you leaving?”
Jared shrugs and glances to the doorway again. “If I’m not back to form,” he says lamely.
“You will be,” Jensen vows.
“You’re so sure, huh?”
“Yeah, I am,” he pushes on. “You’re a week from some real running, and then you’ll be hauling your ass around the court like it’s nothing. Don’t leave Chicago. Fuck that guy and all his smug-”
Suddenly, Jared sets his hands on Jensen’s face and his mouth to Jensen’s, pressing him into the fridge. Jensen brings his hands up to Jared’s stomach and starts to push him away, but Jared’s tongue slips over Jensen’s lips, and he feels his nerves light up with the touch. He curls his fingers into Jared’s shirt and brings him in, conceding to the push-pull they’ve been riding for weeks now and just letting it be.
Jared sets his weight into Jensen, moaning lightly as Jensen opens his mouth and meets Jared’s tongue, pressing right back into it. Jensen spreads his lips wider to let Jared reach further inside as his heart pounds at breakneck speeds, making him dizzy and reckless. He yanks on Jared’s shirt, hauls him in tighter, and gives back as good as Jared’s giving, tongues thick and wet, lips sliding through the slick of the kiss.
They’re breathing heavily and sagging into each other when Jared pulls back. He rests his head against Jensen’s and mumbles, “You’re defending me.”
Jensen clenches his eyes shut and focuses on steadying his breathing, because he has no clue what’s going on and how he’s allowed it to happen. How and when he’s let Jared in, started to like him, developed these feelings and the want to protect Jared as if the guy’s life choices and his asshole agent matter. “I’ve done stupider things,” he admits.
“Like letting me kiss you?”
“That would be one.”
Jared laughs, air puffing against Jensen’s cheek. “Or kissing me back?”
“That’d be another,” he replies, chancing to open his eyes and look at Jared. Shockingly, Jared’s eyes are bright and intent on Jensen, but not in a leer or even playful. And his smile is softer, framed by cheeks that seem pinker than Jensen can remember seeing on the guy, even through pain and exercise.
Thumbing across Jensen’s cheek bone, Jared murmurs, “Not many people defend me.”
“You should read a paper or watch a li’l TV,” he says flatly, trying to shift the moment into something less tempting. He’s going to ignore the fact that he hasn’t shoved Jared away yet. “Those guys can’t do anything but defend you.”
“They don’t know me.”
The way Jared says it quiet and slow does things to Jensen, like make his stomach turn and his mind whirl. This isn’t the guy who fucks girls in costumes for fun, or has tried to grope Jensen through a majority of their sessions. This is something else entirely, and Jensen’s not sure he can handle the new layer being peeled away.
To bypass that entire thought, Jensen shifts and nudges Jared back. “Fighting with your agent or not, you’ve got a session.”
Jared doesn’t move very far and sweeps his hands down Jensen’s face, his neck, and over his shoulders. “Have I told you how much your professionalism turns me on?”
“Jared,” he chuckles before he can keep it in his throat. He knows this is such a bad idea, but Jared’s got a soft smile and is leaning in again to kiss, also soft and slow. Jensen murmurs a little, trying to get his words together and stop this, but the gentle swipe of Jared’s tongue in his mouth is hypnotic, and he’s kissing right back. His chest burns as he holds his breath, as Jared presses him into the fridge again, deepens the kiss, and forces Jensen’s head into the cool metal behind him.
He summons the will to push at Jared’s chest and keep himself against the fridge to retain the distance. Locking his elbows, he ensures that there’s at least an arm-length of space between them, though he’ll ignore how his hands curl over the mounds of muscle of Jared’s chest, or how Jared smiles at him for it. “Okay, seriously. You’ve got a date with a treadmill.”
Jared runs his hands up and down Jensen’s arms, fingers squeezing here and there. “What if I promise to do it after you leave?”
Jensen tips his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, which makes Jared smirk at him, then playfully frown.
“Okay, fine. You win this time. But we’ll get back to this after, right?”
His breath catches. Beyond the big mistake that these kisses have been, Jensen knows there’s no way to stop Jared now that he’s allowed him in. “This is a bad idea, Jared.”
Jared closes his hands around Jensen’s wrists, pulls them down between them, and squeezes Jensen’s hands. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“You would,” Jensen chuckles. He twists his hands out of Jared’s hold. “How about we focus on you and your career? That’s what I’m here for anyway.”
Taking a deep breath, Jared steps back and runs a hand through his hair. He looks more troubled than he did through his argument with his agent, and Jensen can’t help the small tinge of guilt running through him for making Jared this way. But Jensen knows he has to keep them on task, for the both of them. For Jared’s knee and his own sanity.
On the treadmill, Jared’s more determined than ever, quieter than usual, and pushing himself harder than before. Jensen worries it’s Jared’s attempt to get through the session faster so he can force more of that kitchen action, but when Jared’s done and sweating, he just walks over to a nearby cabinet and grabs a towel to wipe his face.
Jensen tucks his elastic bands and weights into his bag and does his best to not look up, even when he knows Jared’s watching him.
“It’s not an awful idea.”
He looks up to Jared then stands, pulls the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and awkwardly smiles. “It’s not a great one.”
Jared’s eyes move over Jensen’s body, head to toe in the least sexual manner. It’s almost more like he’s just taking Jensen in. He keeps with Jensen’s eyes for a few moments, then asks, “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“I have a job to do, yeah.”
“Job, right,” he mumbles.
Jensen nods, trying so hard to ignore how strange Jared sounds, and steps out to the foyer. Jared follows and opens the door for him, leaning on it and forcing a smile. Jensen glances down the front walk, half expecting Katie or that brunette or redhead to appear in a slutty Batgirl costume, or maybe a pilot aiming for the Mile High Club, but he realizes it’s been weeks since he’s seen anyone in this house aside from Jared and Matt today. He’s tempted to ask about it, though he knows that’s worse than just walking out this door like nothing happened between him and Jared, so he does that instead.
+++
At the clinic, Jensen attempts to be more focused than ever, given how quick he is to get from one session to the next or how he buries his head in patient notes and files. In the break room, he’s arched over Jared’s folder, squeezing his left hand into a fist as he attempts to fill in the blanks for how well Jared’s progressed. Over the last few weeks, he’s made half-assed comments in the file to keep information out of sight, but he knows he should keep it up to date. The wrong words cross his mind as all he can think about is the kitchen and how he stood up for Jared and then couldn’t stand up for himself when Jared kissed him. How he allowed it happen and how, goddamnit, he really liked it.
He’s so pulled into the file and what to write that he doesn’t realize he has company until Danneel scoots onto the table to sit next to his elbow. “You’ve been quiet today,” she says with a smile.
When her fingers pick at a few pages in the file, Jensen snaps it shut. He’s been intent to keep Jared’s file away from curious eyes, not wanting anyone to see just how bad the injury is or how long their sessions are. Now he counts on his professionalism as the excuse for protecting Jared.
Danneel taps at the tab with Jared’s name on it and grins. “So, how’s Romeo doing? He back to tip-top shape yet?”
“Nearly,” Jensen says with a nod.
“Not gonna touch the Romeo comment?” she chuckles.
He stares at her, unable to move from her playful look, because his mind is bursting with the memory of what happened in Jared’s kitchen. There’s no way he can tell her, even if he really wanted to. Okay, he kind of wants to, because how the hell does he hang onto something like this? Jared Padalecki, Chicago’s favorite bachelor, kissed Jensen in his kitchen and insisted on more in a voice that said it wasn’t just a quick fuck.
“What’s going on?” she asks, eyebrows dropping with confusion. “You’ve been going over there a lot lately.”
He’s just breathing, trying to decide in a split second if he should say anything. He can’t form the right answer to confess or deny it all.
“Jensen!” Samantha calls out happily when she enters the room, breaking the tension between him and Danneel. “How’s everything going?”
He shifts towards her and puts on as strong a smile as he can manage. “Good, everything’s good,” he replies.
“Mr. Padalecki coming along?”
“Yes, ma’am, he is,” Jensen nods.
A few other coworkers filter in, including Jessica who smirks at Jensen as she’s caught the last few lines of conversation. “Yeah, how is our favorite ball man?”
“He’s fine,” he replies tightly
She steps up to his free side and tugs on Jared’s file, but Jensen presses his hand to the middle of it, keeping it in place. “Oh, c’mon. We’re all curious when our savior’s gonna be back on the court. How long’s it take to clear a PCL?”
“Files are confidential,” he grits out.
Jessica rolls her eyes, then looks around the room. “Please, like we haven’t all shared notes before?”
Danneel stands and squeezes Jensen’s shoulder. “Hey, Jen,” she says pointedly, changing the subject. “I could use a second opinion on a rotator cuff.”
“Sounds good,” he smiles tightly and stands, bringing his files with him.
She leads him through the hallway to the front desk and gives him a sympathetic smile. “I wouldn’t trust her to order my coffee.”
He chuckles. “Good to know I’m not just paranoid.”
“Oh, you’re that, too,” she laughs. She pushes a file in front of him and flips it to an MRI. When he eyes her, she shrugs and gives him a strange look. “What? I know how to be honest sometimes.”
Jensen smirks and eyes the image, pointing to a white burst. “That’s a full tear.”
“That’s what I was thinking, though the tech’s saying otherwise. I get the feeling they don’t wanna be honest about it. The kid’s only 19, but he just had his first start in AA. It’ll end his career before it even gets off the ground.”
He looks at her and takes a deep breath. A glance around them says they’re alone aside from the receptionist who’s busy with an incoming call. “It wasn’t a routine PCL.”
She doesn’t seem to get it immediately, but he doesn’t have to clarify. “You mean … Jared?”
Nodding, he looks beyond her to make sure no one approaches them as he continues. “It was pretty nasty, but he wants to keep it quiet. That’s why I’m still there.”
Danneel’s surprised, for sure, then she smirks and elbows him. “And here I thought you were staying because you were falling for the guy.”
Jensen is horrified and makes the appropriate insulted huff at the thought. Though, he knows it’s more at the fact she’s saying it aloud and laughing, getting far too close to the button.
+++
At the bar, he does all he can to avoid conversation about Jared. There’s been a guy a few tables over shooting him some kind glances, and he’s returned them just so he can think about someone other than his patient and sessions at Jared’s house. Even if the long lines of the guy’s body and dark hair remind him of exactly that.
By the end of the night, he’s more than buzzed, and has shared a few short conversations at the bar with the guy, knowing full well that it’s guaranteed for the night. He’s finishing off what he’s calling his last beer and ready to grab the guy and head out when Danneel slides her chair close. He realizes they’re left alone at the table, and she’s leaning into his side to talk quietly.
“That guy’s been watching you all night.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” he smirks.
“This isn’t typically your thing,” she points out. “You’re usually a lot less obvious.”
“Sometimes nature calls.”
“I bet you’ve got plenty of energy to burn off.” She’s smirking at him and nudging his side, and he doesn’t have to ask what she means. “Trading one vice for another?”
“Something like that,” he admits.
“You really like him, huh?”
Jensen laughs, sipping the last bits from his bottle. “I hardly know him.”
“I’m talking about Jared.”
“I’m trying to ignore that.”
She elbows him lightly. “How much trouble you getting into over there?”
He laughs again, but it’s a tense this time. “Enough.”
“Oh, Jensen,” she sighs, but she’s smiling, too. “What’re you doing?”
“I really don’t know,” he admits, laughing at himself.
She doesn’t press more, and he doesn’t bother sorting the whole mess out. He doesn’t leave with that guy either, and tries not to worry about whether that’s a good sign or not.
+++
Okay, so he lets himself off the hook for liking Jared and considering more. There’s freedom in giving himself a break, even if he’s nervous to show up for Jared’s session.
He finds Jared in the gym, already going on the treadmill with a quick, steady stride and an impressive incline.
“Aren’t you a surprise,” Jared says with a tight smile.
“You, too,” Jensen chuckles, putting his bag to the ground and stepping up to the machine. “Starting early?”
Jared drops the incline, but picks up his stride. “I figured I should get to work, just in case.”
“In case what?” Jensen asks slowly.
Quickening the speed on the machine, Jared jogs steadily and keeps his eyes to the TV across the room. “In case you didn’t show.”
“Jared …”
“No, it’s fine,” he huffs out, still not looking at Jensen. “I’m not used to hearing no, and I can be stupid about it. I know it’s been inappropriate and all, but I don’t want to screw up my chance for recovery here. So …”
Jensen wants to laugh that Jared’s more committed now, pushing himself to run and keep his knee loose and easy, but it’s strange to see him so serious. Maybe even a good kind of strange. Jensen finds himself beginning to admire Jared’s perseverance.
“We’re in this for another month and then you’re back on the court,” Jensen points out with a small smile.
Jared matches Jensen’s smile and licks his lips. “Another month, yeah.”
“You’ll be back up to no good soon enough, and you’ll forget that you couldn’t even stand on it when I first came around.”
“I don’t think I’ll forget that,” Jared jokes lightly, easing the moment. “You having to hold me up wasn’t one of my finer moments.”
“That’s gotta be pretty bad,” Jensen laughs, resting his arm at the treadmill console. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other awful moments to compare.”
“Like making out with my physical therapist in my kitchen.” Jared’s eyes skate back to the TV. “Just thought it could’ve been a little fun while it lasted, but I’ve got the signal loud and clear.”
Jensen watches his fingers rub at the edge of the controls. “Not really what I want,” he admits quietly.
“You don’t like fun?”
Instead of answering, Jensen hits the stop button on the machine and the belt slowly rolls out with Jared stopping at the far end of it. Jensen steps under the console and onto the machine with a nervous smile, because he can’t believe he’s doing this. He mumbles, “C’mere,” and grabs the edge of Jared’s shirt to pull him near. They’re incredibly close and Jared’s looking at him with barely contained wonder, but not moving any further. Jensen cracks a smile, taking in the way Jared’s hair is slicked back from his face and his tan skin is glistening with a light layer of sweat. He looks good. He was made to be an athlete, looking like this.
“I like fun,” Jensen says, setting his hands on Jared’s hips. He smirks when Jared wavers in place, like he’s trying hard to not push. “And somehow, after all your awful comments and hissy fits, I like you.”
Jared drops his face closer, stopping just short of kissing. He breathes through his nose and his fingers just barely touch Jensen’s sides. “You’d probably lose your job, doing this, right?”
“So would you.”
His eyes slide down Jensen’s face, focusing on Jensen’s lips. “We’re not gonna tell anyone.”
“What happens here, stays here,” Jensen reminds him of their promise that second day he’d shown up here.
“That makes it kind of exciting,” Jared murmurs. He closes the distance and his mouth goes to Jensen’s bottom lip, lightly tugging on it before pressing his tongue inside.
Jensen opens up to Jared, thinking that it’s a lot exciting, especially when Jared’s hands grip at Jensen’s back, fingers tight against his muscles. Jensen brings his hands around Jared’s waist, slides them under his shirt and up his back, grabbing tight, too, so they’re pressed together from their chests on down. Jared pushes into him so he’s got the console against his back, but he’s also got Jared’s hips slotted with his and he feels the rub of Jared’s dick through their clothes. He moans as Jared shifts one way then the other, and he can feel Jared getting hard.
“That was quick,” Jensen mumbles against Jared’s mouth, smiling when Jared does, too.
Jared tucks his hands at Jensen’s lower back so they can grind tight, and he pushes his head against Jensen’s, breathing hard. “It’s been a long time.”
“What about Katie?”
“She hasn’t been here since I said so.” Jensen’s mind flashes back a few weeks when Jared was put out with the small road bump of his knee swelling and how he’d insisted he’d kept Katie away. “No one else either. I’ve been kinda crazy about my physical therapist.”
Jensen turns his head to capture Jared’s lips in searing kiss, pushing his tongue in and grabbing Jared’s neck as Jared quickens his hips. There isn’t an inch of space between them, they’re locked so tight together and rutting against each other and groaning. It’s not like Jensen’s celibate, but he can’t remember the last time it felt this exhilarating, this good, this hot.
He keeps a tight hold on Jared’s neck and grabs Jared’s ass with his other hand. His fingers press into flesh and hard muscle, and he tugs in rhythm as he grinds right into Jared. Jared whines into Jensen’s mouth, stalling his tongue but gripping even harder at Jensen’s ass, a handful of cheek in each of his big palms. Jared bites Jensen’s bottom lip as he keens and shoves into Jensen, coming in his shorts.
Jensen slips his fingers into Jared’s hair and pushes against Jared, sliding their hips together until he comes, too. Belatedly, he groans at the wetness in his pants and curses under his breath.
Jared chuckles and languidly kisses Jensen, brushing his hands over Jensen’s ass then up to his waist. “That was fun,” he mumbles.
Chuckling along with Jared, Jensen nods a little. “Sure was.”
“Maybe next time we do this without the treadmill in the way.”
“Maybe,” Jensen smirks, patting at Jared’s chest as Jared shifts back.
Jared’s checks are all pink, his lips bitten red, and his eyes dazed, and Jensen goes dizzy with the sight and the knowledge of why Jared looks that way.
God, he’s in so much fucking trouble.
+++
The surprising thing is that it’s not like everything changes. Jared still works out and keeps on task, and Jensen still hits the clinic at nights. He doesn’t go over to Jared’s the weekend after the treadmill incident, or even following work. But there are quite a few smirks shot between them and the conversation is loose and easy and fun.
On Monday, Jensen shows up a bit early, but says it’s in the name of regimen. Jared takes it for an entirely different sign and they make out in the foyer for twenty minutes before Jensen can right them from the cabinet next to the staircase and shove Jared towards the gym.
On Tuesday, Jensen lets Jared hijack the session. At least, he’ll blame Jared for it.
After the treadmill and midway through stretching, Jared is lightly grunting when Jensen leans on Jared’s shin to push his leg into his chest. It’s not a loud sound, or overly lascivious, but when he starts to softly smile, Jensen gets the picture, and what a nice picture it is with Jared laid out on his back, hands curled around the side of the table and the tight grip making the muscles and veins in his forearms pop. His head is tipped back with his neck bared, and his shirt is hanging loose near his hips, shifting with every movement. He’s absolute putty in Jensen’s hands, letting Jensen press his leg up as far as is feasible for a human being, and Jensen laughs to himself because he’s just testing Jared’s will to withstand this much contact and not do or say something perverted.
Jensen bends Jared’s leg to ninety degrees then leads it over Jared’s other leg, making him shift towards his side with his back still on the table. Jared’s shirt rides up with the move and Jensen sits back, staring at it even as he holds Jared’s leg to the side.
A low, quick whistle breaks Jensen from staring and he picks up his eyes to find Jared watching him. “See something, doc?”
Chuckling, Jensen pulls Jared’s leg back for another stretch then runs through them all again. He keeps eyeing the hint of flesh between Jared’s shirt and the elastic band on his cotton shorts. With Jared’s soft murmurs at every bend and flex of his leg, Jensen finds himself getting closer, and he finally just dips down and plants an open-mouthed kiss to the bared skin.
Jared’s hand settles on the back of Jensen’s neck as Jensen licks at Jared’s sweat-salty skin, sucking lightly at the taught flesh. Jared nudges Jensen’s shoulder with his knee and squeezes at Jensen’s neck with a mumble to move, and when he does, Jared spreads his legs open and leads Jensen right back to his hip.
With Jared’s fingers sliding across the back of his head and his stomach going concave to Jensen’s lips slipping across his hip, Jensen smiles and feels a rush of pressure slink from his stomach down to his dick in seconds. He pushes Jared’s shirt up and follows it, nipping light marks across his stomach and up to his chest, then lets the shirt go and moves up to kiss Jared. It’s surprisingly slow and easy with Jared tilting his head to let Jensen lead the kiss.
When Jared’s knees squeeze at Jensen’s hips, Jensen hums and pushes down on the knees so Jared keeps his legs on the table. Jensen slips back again with his fingers going to Jared’s waistband and untying the string keeping them on Jared’s slim hips.
Jared keeps running his hands over Jensen’s head and his shoulders. “Been waiting on this for a while,” he murmurs.
Jensen snorts and pulls the string loose. “I see I have high expectations to meet.”
“You just touch it and you’re good.”
“You’re so romantic,” Jensen deadpans as he slips his hand inside and closes a fist around Jared’s dick.
“Oh, God,” Jared whines, bringing his knees back up to press around Jensen.
Jensen pushes Jared’s right knee down again, then straddles it and rests back to keep Jared’s leg flat and to give him room to pull Jared out of his shorts and lean in to slowly jack Jared and lick at the head.
“Yeah, Jensen,” he sighs, breathless as he keeps talking. “Can’t hardly think straight with you so close, just always wanna push you down like this.”
Sucking at the crown, Jensen keeps his eyes on Jared’s, which are blown wide and watching him intently. “How long’s it been?” Jensen asks a raised eyebrow, curious and pleased to have the upper hand, literally, too.
“Since what?”
“Since you were blown properly?”
Jared bites into a laugh and hitches his hips up when Jensen licks down his shaft. “Uh, most definitely a while. Not since I was going to thoroughly enjoy it. Couldn’t even tell you right now.”
At this point, all inhibitions are gone, as is obvious with Jared’s nervous, airy chattering, and Jensen’s want to taunt him through the entire thing.
“How long since you’ve, ah, blown someone properly?” Jared asks, still seeming tense, yet amused.
Jensen runs a tight fist up and down Jared’s dick and sucks lightly at the tip for long moments before he shoots Jared his best smirk. “Not so long I don’t remember how.”
Jared drops his head to the table and groans, and that’s even before Jensen slides his mouth down Jared’s dick, pressing his tongue at the underside and sucking hard as he pulls back up. The heat and weight of Jared’s dick in his mouth is a thing he hadn’t realized he craved, but now that he’s got it, savors it, sucking hard. He goes on like this, egged on by Jared’s ramblings and roaming hands constantly squeezing at Jensen’s shoulders, forearms, neck, wherever they land for more than a split second.
“Christ, Jensen,” Jared pants. “You definitely remember, definitely do.
Jensen rumbles a laugh and the pressure makes Jared whimper, and precome fills Jensen’s mouth. He sucks his way up to the tip, then tilts his head and goes back down with Jared’s dick bumping the inside of his cheek. Jared’s hips pop up and his other leg runs over Jensen’s, rubbing back and forth. Jensen lifts off and pumps his hand fluidly, Jared’s dick wet from his mouth.
He licks his lips and Jared murmurs, “That’s one hell of a mouth, Jen.”
Smirking, Jensen picks up the speed of his hand and leans down to suck on Jared’s balls, already full and tight, making Jared whine more.
Jensen’s own heart is racing and he feels adrenaline pounding his brain. He’d love to take this further, strip Jared down, turn him over, and take his tight ass as his, but as much as the table can hold them now, he’s imagining too much movement would take the whole thing down to the ground. Somehow, he shelves that image for later and licks up Jared’s cock again, taking him down as far as he can go, and working faster to finish Jared off.
Just a few minutes and Jared’s squeezing at Jensen’s neck. “I’m so done, Christ, Jensen.”
He moves to the head of Jared’s dick and feels it pulse in his hand as Jared’s whimpering gets harsh and then he comes in Jensen’s mouth. Jensen swallows as much as he can, then runs his mouth down Jared’s dick to suck up the rest of it. Jared’s hands slip loosely down to Jensen’s upper arms, panting and coming back to earth apparently, given how slack his whole body has gone.
Jensen slides up on his hands to kiss him, sucking on Jared’s lower lip.
“God, how will I ever repay that?” Jared asks quietly.
“Like you’re not already plotting it out?”
“I was,” he admits with a small laugh. “But you just sucked out all my concentration. That good idea’s gone right out the window.”
Jensen smiles and kisses him again. “You’re too easily distracted.”
Jared runs his thumb over Jensen’s lips, pressing into the corner, and Jensen lightly sucks on the tip. He groans, “God, how could I not be?” He pulls his hand back and pushes at Jensen’s shoulder. “C’mon. Turn over and I’ll try my best to beat that.”
“No, not like that,” Jensen says, shaking his head and sitting back.
“Not like what? You don’t want me to-”
“You’re not getting on your knees.”
Jared furrows his brow. “You don’t want me on my knees?”
Jensen laughs and pats at Jared’s stomach. “I very much do. But not your bad knee.”
Sliding his hand down Jensen’s chest, Jared ends the trail by palming Jensen through his pants. “Then what do you suggest?”
The full cup of Jared’s huge hand is doing wonders immediately, and Jensen could stay like this and just grind into his palm, but he doesn’t exactly want to wear Jared’s track pants out of the house like he did after the treadmill last week.
Sighing and closing his eyes as Jared’s hand rubs harder and more insistently, Jensen grits out, “Anything that keeps my pants clean.”
“You’re so high maintenance,” Jared playfully grumbles. In seconds, he leads Jensen to his side then hops off the table, pulling Jensen’s legs around so he can stand between them.
Huh, yeah, he didn’t think about this, and he can’t think more on it once Jared’s got his pants open and dick out. Jared’s hand works him easily with a loose grip that’s more than enough stimulation. He’s already hard, thanks to Jared’s moaning and groaning, and now with Jared touching him, he wants to come out of his skin. Especially when Jared wraps his other hand around Jensen’s neck and tugs him close to kiss, tongue sliding against Jensen’s palette at nearly the same rhythm as he grips Jensen’s dick.
Jensen grabs Jared’s jaw and hip to bring him closer, but Jared doesn’t stay. He kisses down Jensen’s neck, licking into the hollow of his throat and nuzzling down Jensen’s chest, mouthing through his cotton polo and biting as he drops lower, finally swallowing Jensen’s down.
Swearing loudly, Jensen smacks the table as Jared sucks like his life depends on it. It’s nowhere near finesse, but Christ, Jensen’s gonna get there real quick and good. Especially when Jared squeezes Jensen’s balls and lightly scrapes his teeth up Jensen’s shaft.
Jared’s panting damn near as loud as Jensen is, and that just turns him on more, to know how into it Jared’s getting when he licks his wide tongue up Jensen’s shaft and drops down over it again, sloppy and wet.
Jensen can’t take it anymore, feeling his skin tingle and his stomach bottom out, and he falls back to his elbows and drops his head back. He mumbles a warning that’s useless, because Jared repays the favor and swallows everything Jensen’s got when his orgasm hits.
Before he can come to his senses, Jared’s leaning over him and kissing, smiling into it. “So, how’d I do?”
“The Romanian judge gives it a five-point-four for form,” he mumbles. He lightly grabs at Jared’s hair and pulls him closer, saying against his mouth, “But I give a hundred for satisfaction.”
Jared rightfully grins and laughs as they keep on kissing.
+++
He knows he’s smiling when he gets into work, but he avoids Danneel or Chris or any of their questions. He also bails on meeting them at the bar just so he won’t get loose-lipped and say something awful.
The next few days, he’s feeling much the same as he and Jared mess around a little and laugh a lot, and he’s pretty damned happy he finally gave in.
He’s so damned comfortable, and far from cranky, that when Jessica grills him for more information on Jared, he just grins, tells her he thinks she’s tacky and threatens to steal one of her patients.
It’s a good day.
+++
The next week, the bottom falls out.
He’s walking up the steps to Jared’s house when his phone rings to Chris on the other end.
“Dude, what the hell’s going on?”
“What’re you talking about?” Jensen asks, fumbling with his keys.
“Turn on WGN.”
Looking up to Jared’s mansion, he snorts. “Can’t really do that now.”
“Where are you?”
“At Jared’s.”
Chris whistles low. “Damn, so you’re in the middle of the shit, huh?”
“What shit?” When Chris doesn’t answer, he demands, “What the hell’re you talking about?”
“You really haven’t heard the news about Jared?”
“I’m standing on his doorstep - what’s wrong with Jared?” he asks in a rush.
“Guess you’re about to find out,” Chris replies and ends the call.
Cursing under his breath, Jensen powers on through the door and to the gym. Jared’s leaning back on the treadmill, arms crossed, and glaring at the TV. Jensen puts his bag down and nears Jared, suddenly distracted by the noon-time newscaster rattling a jumble of words that make Jensen’s stomach drop.
“Well, at least this’ll only wreck my career a little,” Jared mumbles, eyes trained to the TV.
“What happened?” Jensen asks, at a complete loss for words.
Jared laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who’d know.”
Jensen glances at Jared, then turns back to the screen. The sports segment is reporting that leaked medical records detail Jared’s knee is ruined, a major PCL injury that could keep him sidelined for the beginning of the season.
“I don’t know how,” Jensen mumbles before Jared cuts him off, loud and pissed.
“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, that’s how.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Jensen defends, but then he remembers the conversation with Danneel when he’d compared Jared to her young AA pitcher.
Jared’s voice echoes in the gym when he yells, “I’ve been getting calls for the last hour asking me if I’ll ever recover! Real fucking nice, Jensen.”
“I told one person and she wouldn’t-”
“Obviously, she would!” Jared laughs deliriously. “What else did you tell her? Am I about to field calls on how I like my dick sucked, too?”
“No!” Jensen yells. “What the fuck, Jared?” He tries to explain, though can’t find the right words because he’s as shocked by the situation that Jared is.
Jared roughly sighs and marches out of the gym. Jensen follows him into the front hallway, arguing and defending, but Jared just shakes his head and when he’s halfway up the stairs, he announces, “We’re done.”
+++
Jensen pushes the door open to Danneel’s room, not caring that she’s got a patient on the table.
Danneel glares at him for the intrusion, then shakes her head and goes back to manipulating a young girl’s ankle. “Don’t even start with me. I didn’t say anything.”
“Funny how you know exactly why I’m here,” he smarts.
“I didn’t say anything,” she repeats slowly and with more force. “Anyone could’ve looked at his file and made a few phone calls.”
When she turns full attention to her patient, lifting the girl’s leg into the air and directing her how to move it, Jensen goes back out to the hallway. The door slaps against the wall and slams shut. Everyone in the area looks at him. Everyone except Jessica.
“You gotta be kidding,” he grumbles, staring right at her.
When she finally looks at him, her mouth is set in a line before she tartly smiles and walks off.
He probably should not have called her tacky. Even if she’s proving him right.
“Goddamnit.”
+++
Jensen finds himself saying the same thing the next morning when he’s staring at Jared’s front door with a suddenly useless key in his hand because the locks have been changed.
He rings the bell a handful of times, but there’s no answer, and he’s pounding his fist at the wood before he realizes how ridiculous this whole thing is. “Jared, c’mon, open up!”
There’s no answer on Jared’s cell, or to another round of the bell, so he resorts to banging again.
The door whips open and Jared’s good and pissed when he steps into the doorway, looming over Jensen. “You mind not breaking down my door?”
“You mind talking to me?” he spits back.
“Yeah, I do. Especially since the shit I tell you gets out.”
“It was one thing and it wasn’t even me!”
Jared’s nostrils flare and his eyes go wide. “You’re the only one who knew! And whoever you told!”
Jensen takes a deep breath, trying to will himself to step back from Jared. He’s seen the guy pissed off enough, and it’s near impossible to get through to him on the first try. “Okay, look,” he says evenly. “I told one person. I told Danneel, and she didn’t-”
“Danneel?” he laughs harshly. “You fucking work with her and my file got out. How the hell does that not mean anything?”
“It wasn’t her!” he yells, throwing his hands towards Jared, but stopping short of shoving him. “It was someone else at work. This crazy, catty idiot who’s obsessed with you. She looked through your file and then gave copies to the news.”
Jared seems to be calming, at least enough that he’s not as loud when he asks, “You put it in my file?”
Jensen’s the bitter one now, laughing at Jared. “Yeah, it’s kind of protocol, you know?” When Jared remains quiet and still, Jensen goes on. “Half the people at work are all over me about you, and this girl is overly nosey. I pissed her off the other day so she decided to start shit. I didn’t tell anyone anything, but Danneel. She’s my best friend and I trust her enough to have shared a bit of professional information.”
Jared keeps staring at Jensen unconvinced, shifting on his feet like he’s going to walk back inside and shut the door anyway. “Some girl you pissed off sold my file?”
“Yeah, she did. And now she’s out of a job for violating patient confidentiality. That shit’ll follow her around for a long time.”
Cocking his hip against the doorway, Jared crosses his arms. “What else do you trust to tell Danneel?”
“What’re you talking about?” he asks, trying like hell to ignore the guilt starting to rise.
“You tell her about everything?”
Jensen breathes slowly and focuses to keep his heart at a steady rate. It’s not exactly working, especially with how Jared’s staring him down. “She has ideas,” he admits loftily. Jared still seems to be wavering on how to respond, so Jensen moves forward with his hands going for Jared’s sides. “Let’s just-”
That’s when Jared makes a definitive move and steps into the house, bringing the door forward a few inches. “I don’t trust a lot of people,” Jared says low, and it’s more disturbing how flat his voice is than when he was full of anger. “You were right, it was a bad idea.”
“Jared, c’mon, it’s not like that,” he argues. “You can trust me.”
He looks beyond Jensen and sighs. “I’ll do the session, you don’t have to babysit me through it.”
The want to yell at Jared, remind him how long he pushed at Jensen until he broke and now to shove him back, is far too strong.
“Come back on Monday, when it’s all blown over, and we’ll just work ‘til the end.”
Jensen’s mouth drops and he gapes at Jared before biting into his lip and looking away. There’s a dull ache building at the back of his neck and his chest is too tight to breathe evenly. This was not set to happen this way. If, and when, this whole thing was going to end, it was supposed to be when Jared’s treatment was done and he was back to his whirlwind life as Chicago’s most beloved son.
Jared gives him one last flat look, then walks away, swinging the door shut.
+++
“How bad is it?” Chris asks once Jensen yanks a chair out and sits at the table. He’s not up for socializing with his coworkers, but he’s definitely in need of a beer. Or a dozen.
“How do you think?”
“You still have a job, right?” Danneel asks, sliding close to him. Her shoulder presses into his and it’s a small comfort. A very small one. “I heard about Jessica.”
“She deserves it,” he spits out before taking a long, very long, gulp from a bottle Chris slides his way. “And miraculously, I have a job. Not much else, but the asshole’s gonna let me scrape his knee back together anyway. Just not for another week, until he gets over it or something.”
Danneel nudges him. “It could always be worse,” she tries.
“And how’s that, Danneel?” he smarts back.
Chris points his bottle towards Jensen. “His other secret could’ve gotten out.”
“Or one of yours,” she adds on. When Jensen shoots her a strange look, she takes a deep breath and sits back in her chair. “You’re easier to read than the comics. Something’s happening between exercises.”
Somehow, it feels good to have it said, and not because he did. He rolls his bottle between his hands, takes a few sips, and gives an angry smile. “Well, it ain’t anymore. That’s for sure.”
“Maybe once shit calms down?” Chris offers. “When people aren’t so obsessed with his comeback, and you get his ass back in the game, then it won’t be such a big deal?”
Jensen laughs and shakes his head as he stares at the beer in his hands. “Yeah, big, fat maybe.”
+++
Jensen shows up on Monday and Jared’s all business. They work through the routines with little more than Jensen giving him instruction and Jared complying.
It’s the same on Tuesday, Wednesday, and the rest of the week. Jensen can’t decide if he’s pissed or hurt, probably a crude combination of the two that manifests into him trying to get Jared to talk, but nothing works.
Jared’s shut off and wound so tightly there’s no getting in.
At the very least, Jensen’s got a job to finish. He didn’t give up on Jared’s knee at Day 2, and he’s not about to now.
+++
With a few more weeks of Jensen’s dedication and increasing hours, plus Jared’s mind set for determination, Jared’s back to regular strength and conditioning. Aside from general stretches in the gym, they head outside and Jared’s running circuits around cones, suicides, and layups across his basketball court. Jensen shuffles along with Jared, passing the ball back and forth, forcing Jared to twist this way and that, ensuring Jared - and his knee - can handle it. He always does.
Once Jared got the confidence to work his knee, he’s burned through every exercise and work-out Jensen could offer him. He’s also kept his mouth zipped tight, even forgoing general pleasantries and casual conversation. Jensen will admit to himself that it’s both rewarding and frustrating to deal with Jared in this way.
Especially since he’s now seeing Jared in all of his athletic glory, shooting threes at a steady pace as Jensen fields them back, or rebounding bad shots to dribble a few steps and crush the ball through the hoop with a heavy dunk. Even as late September brings a break in the temperatures, Jared’s always fitted in a tight tank and loose netted shorts, sweating through both in minutes and not acknowledging it in the slightest.
Every session, they spend an hour in the gym for Jared to stretch and jog on the treadmill, another two or three on the court, and a half hour or so back in the gym or the attached bathroom, which is practically a locker room with an ice bath, spacious shower stall, and wall-to-wall mirrors. Jared’s ice downs are required and Jensen doesn’t stay long once Jared’s set in the bath, hating that no matter where he looks in the room, there’s a speck of Jared in the corner of his eye.
Jensen’s far beyond disturbed that, now that Jared has stepped back and put a protective barrier between them, he’s finding himself wanting Jared more than ever.
They’re almost done with the whole charade and Jensen figures it’s for the best that whatever they had for that one week ended when it did.
One afternoon, Jared’s particularly pushy - both with his work ethic and the way he’s responding to Jensen’s directives. Jensen’s set to pack up while Jared’s in the ice bath, but he thinks twice and heads in with a thin sleeve brace.
Jared’s reclined inside the tub, head resting at the edge, but Jensen can still see his face in a mirror. He can also tell Jared’s watching him approach.
Jensen leans against the side of the tank and keeps his eyes on Jared’s face so he doesn’t begin to consider Jared’s bare chest or the slim-fitting trunks he’s got on. He motions with the brace and tries to smile even when Jared’s just staring at him like Jensen’s interrupting something. “I brought you a new one. High-end technology to block moisture. So, it should stay in place when you play. You’ve been readjusting yours a lot lately”
Shifting in the water, Jared looks up to Jensen then to the brace, grabbing it and feeling the material. “What’s this gonna do for my defense?” he asks flatly.
“It’ll make sure you still have a knee after you play,” Jensen jokes lightly. When Jared just looks at him, Jensen goes on, “For the pain. You seemed a little uptight today.”
Jared slips his hands inside the brace and stretches it out, watching black elastic extend and mold to his fingers and snap back when he releases it. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Jensen rubs over his legs, about to stand when Jared stretches the brace again, lets it snap back against his hands, and chuckles a little.
“I’m going to Deerfield tomorrow.”
He’s well aware Jared’s talking about the Berto Center, where the Bulls practice. And he’s even more aware that the team’s been working out there for weeks, but Jared hadn’t been ready yet. He wants to question Jared on it, but he knows how Jared’s healed and pushed himself these last two months. Besides, it’s been almost four months, just how long Jensen had insisted it would take for Jared to get back on the court.
Oddly, Jensen equates this to sending a child off to college: you know they’re ready and able, and will learn if it’s not right, but there’s that nagging worry that it’s not time to let the bird out of the cage.
Jensen forces a smile. “That’s awesome.”
Jared chuckles oddly and drops the brace onto ledge next to the bath. “We’ll see how awesome it is when I have real competition.”
“I’m a little offended, man,” he jokes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jared smirks. “You probably can’t nail a half-court shot, but those guys can’t whip up a perfectly healed knee.”
Jensen tsks and glances around the room, aware he’s still smiling. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
He looks back to Jared, who’d sounded so serious, but now has his eyes closed and is dropping lower in the tub so water sluices up to his neck. Jensen makes a face to himself then stands, tapping the side of the bath. “Well, you let me know how it goes.”
Jared hums and slips deep into the bath, bubbles popping out of his nose as he holds his breath.
+++
At the clinic, Samantha tells him Jared’s agent had called, and given Jared’s return to the Berto Center, he’s no longer needed. That the team’s trainers are taking over and Jared’ll be in just-as-good hands.
He tries to not show any reaction aside from a grateful smile when Samantha congratulates him on all his hard work and success in getting Jared back up to speed.
He also tries to get right back to work, but nothing compares to the hours he’s spent at Jared’s, no matter how ornery or perverted the guy could get, or how tightly he’d shut himself off in their final weeks together.
It stings real bad. He goes to bed with the bad taste on his tongue, but he still wakes up in the morning, so he’s got that going for him.
+++
As the season takes off, word is Jared Padalecki’s playing like he’s been granted a new life. His stats are higher than ever, he’s quicker down the court, meaner on defense, and all around breathing new life into a team that thought it was done. Speculation runs rampant for Jared’s career at the end of the season, whether he’ll nab a padded contract to stay or be tempted elsewhere.
Jensen doesn’t actually read any newspapers or watch sports segments to find that out. Danneel typically starts up the conversations around him. Chris, too. He’d curse them out for it, not wanting to give a lick about what’s going on, but he recognizes that they’ve been doing it for him, to update him on Jared in a supposedly professional manner in regards to his recovery. Among other things, he figures, too.
He lets them talk more often and lays off the nasty glares when they do it, because he starts to realize he actually misses the asshole.
+++
“You’re just trying to start shit,” Jensen grumbles, but he’s smiling a little. Danneel’s next to him at the front counter and doing her best to talk him into a road trip to catch a Bears game in St. Louis.
“And how would that be?” she asks with a sweet smile. “I’m just suggesting we do something special for Ronnie’s birthday. Is live American football not special?”
“He’s English,” her points out of their new hire.
“And? He likes football.”
Jensen laughs and elbows her. “It’s soccer to him.”
“Special delivery for our special therapist,” Samantha grins, handing an overnight envelope to Jensen.
He grants her a smile and takes the package, eying Danneel when he turns to the counter. Danneel smiles wide at Samantha, trying to slide in a good compliment, but their boss is already off to something else, and Jensen laughs at Danneel for it.
She frowns and grumbles at him, “That’s my point anyway. Guy doesn’t know real football like he should.”
“I’m sure he likes rugby just fine.”
“Yeah, but this is different. Live action professional sports. And the Bears have a decent chance this year. Let’s see ‘em while it’s cheap.”
Jensen doesn’t egg her on more, because his eyes are glued to the contents of the overnight package. He’s read the handwritten note that’s tacked to a manila envelope once already, but he has to keep going over the words to really believe that they’re there.
A little thank you for taking me a long way
Jared
His thumb draws a slow line over the words, stalling atop Jared’s name. He hears it all the time, especially among his basketball-obsessed coworkers, but this is different. It reminds him of the times when they got along and when they did so very well. In the grand scheme of things, he’s sure that week will seem like a mini vacation if, and when, he glances back at it. And for Jared, it can’t be more than a blip on the radar. But there’s something exhilarating about receiving this note.
“What is it?” Danneel asks, bumping at his hip.
He fumbles the manila envelope open and when his fingers touch two plastic sleeves with red and black lanyards, he lifts an eyebrow. Pulling them out, he lets the passes dangle from his fingers and grins at her. “How’s this for live entertainment?”
“Oh, holy shit!” she yells.
Two tickets to a luxury box at the United Center and a parking pass are at the bottom of the envelope, and these badges will get him into the locker room. Him and … someone else.
Breathlessly, she asks, “Are those what I think they are?”
Jensen glances over the tickets once more and licks his lips, somehow overcome with real excitement for a basketball game. He never thought he’d see the day again where this sport would get him going, but here it is, and he’s overcome with boyish enthusiasm. “If you think they’re Lexus Club seats for the All Star Game, then yes, they are exactly what you think they are.”
“For Tomorrow? Get out!” she yells and shoves him. When she tries to reach for the lanyards, he pulls them out of reach and laughs, which makes her push him again. “C’mon, lemme see them! Who’re you taking?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” he says airily as he turns away and inspects the passes again. There’s a yellow post-it stuck to one with block print that says to show up by 4pm and lists the private parking area the pass will give him access to. “Maybe Ronnie,” he mumbles. “For his birthday.”
Danneel smacks his back and then they’re laughing together, no matter who in the area notices. It dawns on him that there’s no one else he can really trust to bring with him that won’t side-eye him if there’s some sort of moment with Jared, that only she could understand what this gesture might possibly mean.
“You keep abusing me and you’re at the bottom of my list,” he warns, holding the envelopes up high.
When his scowl slips back into a broad smile, one that makes his cheeks burn, she shrieks and jumps onto his back with her arms tight around his neck.
Jensen stumbles with her weight, but she’s not too rough on him with her legs wrapped around his waist and finally nabbing one of the passes to inspect it. He leans towards the counter to keep them upright and lets her enthusiasm amp him up even more.
“He so wants you back,” she murmurs at his ear as she turns the pass over to look at the access pass illustrated with a picture of Jared in action from last season.
“God, I haven’t been to a game in years. What the hell do people even wear in the box seats? Tuxes or some shit?” he jokes to cover the tension wracking his system.
She lets herself down and hipchecks him. “What’d you wear the last time you went to a game?”
“I was in high school,” he says flatly. “We layered as many red and black shirts as possible.”
Laughing, she hands the pass back, then flicks at his collar. “I think you wanna do the exact opposite to win back your man.”
His stomach spins at the thought, nerves tingling below the surface. Yeah, it could be Jared’s olive branch, but it could also just be good press to reward the physical therapist who saved one of Chicago’s hottest athletes from an untimely career death.
NEXT
Originally posted at http://www.dreamwidth.org/12345.html