Real Person Fic - CW: A Doll's House [Part 1/2]
Title: A Doll's House
Fandom: Real Person Fic: CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen, past Jared/Genevieve
Rating: R for some sexuality, alcohol use, and language
Word Count: 20,763
Author’s Note: This is a story inspired by a trip ordinaryink and I took to FAO Schwarz a few years ago. We spent like two hours in their dollhouse section admiring the dollhouses and the tiny furniture and the absolutely ridiculous amount of detail that went into the props. LIKE TINY DOLL MONOPOLY SETS AND BRAND CRACKER BOXES AND NEWSPAPERS THAT YOU COULD ACTUALLY READ. Those dolls were living better than we were, yo. And that shit was expensive. And I was like, "This is someone's job. Someone gets to charge crazy prices to make tiny doll garbage cans full of tiny doll actual garbage." Long story short, this unsurprisingly led to a fic idea. And so dollhouse-maker!Jensen and single-dad!Jared was born. Y'all welcome. Now, this was supposed to be done for rpf_big_bang in 2011, but both Tracey and I fucked up. Then it was supposed to be-and is still supposed to be-for kidficstory, though I am exactly two months late for that, so wow I suck. But thank you to the mod for being understanding. And even more thanks to cassiopeia7, whose body I purchased at fandomaid and who drew this absolutely perfect art, which was so right for this story, as I knew it would be. Please check out her great art and say nice things to her, she deserves to hear them because she had to deal with me being a crazy person…as I do. Thank you also to my beta, kiwiana, and wutendeskind who consulted with me on just how unrealistic I was being with this kid's age because fucked if I know anything about kids, I came for the tiny monopoly.
Summary: AU: Jensen owns Puzzles Toys, a high-end store specializing in making and selling dollhouses. Jared is a regular; he stops by every few days with his daughter, Emma. They visit so often that Jensen can't help starting to suspect it's not just toys bringing them back.
ART
AO3 // PDF
PART ONE
The child is a hurricane.
In Jensen's line of work, you get to know every type of kid there is in the world, from the eerily quiet to the exhaustingly loud. He's had little businessmen walk into his shop and carefully bargain for the best toy they could squeeze out of their parents and he's had brats kick and scream and refuse to budge from the floor until their battered parents surrendered to their whims. He's watched all these interactions closely-there's not really much else to do during the day-and he considers himself a bit of an expert on classifying children. Jensen knows a hurricane when he sees one.
They're rare, even for Jensen to spot. These are the kids who sweep into a place and shake everything up just by being there. They aren't necessarily loud, though Jensen's never seen a shy one. Not spoiled or ill-behaved-at least it's not a requirement. But you can't ignore them, not even when they're quiet; they're built for attention and generally come with one or two adults trailing them, equal parts frustrated and charmed by the firecracker they've got on their hands.
This one is no different. Jensen feels her presence before he hears the jingling at the door and looks up to see her-all three feet of her. Long brown curls all the way down her back, a big, neat bow sitting on top of her head, her pink dress matching the bow perfectly. She hasn't got a single wrinkle or stain on it, not one curl is out of place. She's talking away at a million words a minute, and she's pulling a man behind her, one hand on the door and the other wrapped up in his. She drags him into the store a little like she's walking a dog, and he's got that lost-parent look on his face, like he's just along for the ride and he knows it. She's probably five or six, though she seems to be taking whatever she's talking about very seriously.
She pauses in her chatter for a moment, nodding at Jensen behind the counter with comical dignity and poise. "Good afternoon, sir," she says.
Jensen blinks a few times, then looks up at her dad (assuming that's who this guy is). He's taken a break from being overwhelmed to smile and shrug at whatever expression Jensen's wearing. He's absurdly hot, especially with the way his face lights up with this grin. Jensen shakes his head and turns his attention back to the little girl to say hello, but she seems to have lost interest in him in the few seconds he wasn't focused on her.
"Don't you see?" she asks, clearly distressed. "Mr. Frog and Coco the Gorilla are perfectly happy together, and everyone thinks that's great, but none of them even cares that Stacy the Unicorn has been in love with Mr. Frog forever. She's much prettier and nicer, but Froggy's too wrapped up in Coco to even notice."
Jensen snorts, and the guy who's with the girl meets his eyes. He's making a concerned face, like the plight of the toys his daughter is ranting about deeply affects him, but his eyes are playful. "Of course, princess, that's terrible. Why don't we get Stacy a nice boyfriend so she can forget about Mr. Frog?"
"I agree completely," she says solemnly before turning her attention to Jensen again. "Where can I find the stuffed animals?" she asks. "It's very important."
Jensen points. "Down that aisle, take a right when you get to the end."
"Thanks," the dad says in passing as he's pulled hastily in the direction Jensen indicated.
Jensen can hear her continuing with the stuffed toy soap opera for a few seconds before the sound fades into the muted radio Jensen's had going for the last few hours. It's been a calm day-even in the middle of the summer in a toy store, there aren't many people shopping on Wednesdays-and, truth be told, Jensen's maybe a little sorry to lose the entertainment.
An old lady comes up after five more minutes of boredom, asking about a Lego set for her grandson's birthday, and Jensen helps her, leaving the comfortable seclusion of his register to show her where to find what she's looking for and help her choose from the embarrassingly large selection of Legos he keeps stocked.
The little girl and her dad are standing by the counter when he gets back, and Jensen can't help smiling at the fact that she's too distracted by her new toy to pay him any attention at all.
"Did you find what you were looking for okay?" Jensen asks, directing the question at the guy.
He smiles softly and nods, patting the little girl on the back. "Emma, let me have Artie for a second so I can pay for him."
She hands the toy up, and her father passes him to Jensen.
"A rhinoceros, huh?" Jensen asks. "I guess that makes sense. They can bond over what it's like to have horns on their head."
The dad laughs, but Emma gasps and looks up at him with awe. "Yes, that's exactly right," she tells him. "You're a very wise man."
"Um, thanks," he says, scanning the toy's tag. "You know, I don't want to cause problems here, but I hear this rhinoceros is a bit of a troublemaker. Sure he's right for your unicorn?"
Emma considers it for a few seconds, her head cocked to one side and a serious expression on her face. Then she nods. "It's okay. Stacy will make him a better man. Plus, every group needs a troublemaker."
"Sweetie, I thought I told you not to listen to anything Uncle Chad told you."
She rolls her eyes. "I know, Daddy. But Uncle Chad said that's only because you don't have street cred and you're jealous of him."
Jensen raises an eyebrow.
"I really need to reconsider who I let babysit my kid," the guy tells him. "Just know it was an emergency."
"Hey, man," Jensen says, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm not asking questions. I'm just here to take your money."
"So I guess that means I should pay you then?" Jensen makes an amused sound and nods as the dad reaches into his back pocket to pull his wallet out. "How much do I owe you?"
Jensen tells him and waits for the guy to pay, trying not to let his mind run away with dirty responses to the question. Once he's printed the receipt, he slides it across the counter, not realizing the dad was already reaching for it. Their hands bump for a second, and Jensen pulls away, hoping he's not blushing.
The man stands there, eyes locked with Jensen's for a second too long before he looks back down and frowns. "Shit," he says under his breath. "You don't watch them for a second and they're gone."
Jensen laughs a little, moving away from the register as the guy turns and starts calling out his daughter's name. He moves back in the direction of the stuffed animals, but Jensen spots her only a few feet away from where she'd been standing. The rhino she was so excited about a moment ago is now hanging forgotten from one hand as she stares up, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
"Hey, she's over here," Jensen calls out, pointing when the dad turns around, worried expression abating a little.
He rounds the aisle, stopping next to his daughter and putting his hands on his hips. "Emma, what did I tell you about wandering off?"
She doesn't bother to answer, just points up. In the back of Jensen's head, flashing dollar bill shaped neon lights go off. It's not often he gets to make a big sale, so he moves to stand closer to the dollhouses.
"I want it," she says. "Daddy! Daddy, I want it."
The man is tall enough to be almost on level with the dollhouse display Jensen has on the shelves around the ceiling of the store, so he reaches for the price tag dangling down and visibly winces. "Not today, baby. You just got a new toy."
She holds up the rhinoceros. "I don't want him anymore. I want that."
"Mommy bought you a new dollhouse for Christmas," he says. "It would hurt her feelings if you don't play with it."
"But I want that one," she says again, like this is all very simple. Jensen backs away a little, caught between wanting to push for the sale and wanting to tell the kid to drop it.
The dad turns to look at him. "How does a dollhouse cost that much?"
Jensen shrugs. "They're handmade. Kind of what we're known for."
The man stands up on his toes to get a better look, squinting. "No way," he says. "No one has enough time on their hands to give a dollhouse that much attention."
Jensen coughs pointedly. "I make them."
"Oh," the man says, looking sheepish as he puts his weight back on his heels and steps away from the dollhouse. "It's, um. Really nice."
Jensen barks out a laugh. "You think this is bad, you should see the accessories. Hours and hours of my life painting tiny furniture."
"Can I see it closer?" the little girl asks, interrupting the conversation.
"Sure," Jensen says, reaching up.
The dad stops him with a hand on his wrist, shaking his head when Jensen meets his eyes. He leans in and speaks in hushed tones, "Look, I get that you've got a job here, but please don't. We can’t afford it, making her love it any more is just gonna make me the bad guy."
Jensen frowns, letting go of the house and nodding sharply. "Yeah, I'm sorry, man."
The dad shrugs, going down on one knee in front of his daughter. "Sweetheart, how about we buy one of your dolls some new furniture instead of a whole new house?"
Emma pouts, her arms crossing over her chest. "But Daddy, it's so much better than the one Mommy bought me."
Jensen swells up a little at that. Which, okay, embarrassing, but this is how he's somehow ended up spending his life, so it's nice to hear he's at least doing it right every now and again. He can see the guy floundering for an excuse to explain his way out of buying this house, so Jensen decides he'd better play the bad guy instead.
"I'm afraid that one is not for sale," he says. "It's mine and I'm not letting anyone take it."
The dad looks up from his daughter, shocked at first. Jensen sees the moment he catches up to what's going on, and the grateful smile on his face is worth it.
"That's not very nice," Emma says. "We could share it. My teacher said sharing is the best thing in the world."
"That's true," Jensen agrees. "But I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to share this one."
She sighs, giving the dollhouse one last dreamy glance. "I guess I can't blame you," she says, her shoulders slumping. "I wouldn't share it either."
Jensen feels a little guilty-she is really, really damn cute-but her dad is pretty cute, too, and he rises to his feet, giving Jensen another overwhelming smile.
"Thanks," he says. He picks Emma up and holds her on one arm, pushing her hair back behind her ear. She's upgraded her pout now, her bottom lip trembling. Her dad leans in and kisses her on the cheek. "Hey, sweetie, don't cry. We can go get ice cream on the way home."
She sniffs, passing her arm over her nose and giving Jensen a glare as her father carries her out of the shop. "I guess that helps a little," she admits.
"Thanks, come again," he mumbles, more out of habit than because he actually expects this guy to ever bring his kid back into a store that made her cry.
The man turns to look at him one last time, and Jensen could swear his eyes are darker than they were a second ago. "Oh, we will," he promises, and then the door is chiming as it closes behind them.
_______________________________________________________________
Jensen doesn't actually believe him when he says he'll be back, but a few days later the door sings the arrival of a customer, and Jensen looks up to find the guy standing in front of him at the register. He's alone this time, and he smiles when Jensen meets his eyes.
"Hey," he says.
Jensen smirks. "I should let you know ahead of time, we have a no return policy on stuffed rhinoceroses. He's your problem now."
The guy laughs. "Artie is assimilating very well, I'll have you know. Emma tells me he's almost entirely reformed. Though I found him on the counter sitting next to a bottle of wine yesterday, so I have my doubts."
"Well, I guess what matters is that she believes," Jensen replies. After a few beats, he decides to stop ogling and remember to be useful. "Was there something else I can do for you?"
"Jared," the man says, holding a hand out. "My name's Jared."
Jensen shakes it. "Was there something I can do for you, Jared?"
"Yeah, I wanted to say thanks. For the other day, you know? I always have to be the one who dashes hopes, so it was nice to get to bond over how mean someone else was for once."
"Oh, any time you need a villain," Jensen says, pointing a thumb at himself. Jared laughs. "Mom not a good disciplinarian?"
"Her mom is actually much better with that kind of thing than I am," he says. His face doesn't change much, though his jaw gets just a tiny bit tighter, and he taps his left hand on the counter anxiously. Jensen can't help being drawn to the lack of a ring.
Sore subject, then. "You sure have your hands full with that one," Jensen says, hoping the distraction will help lighten things up.
"Tell me about it," Jared agrees. "Even before the temper tantrums start, she's so damn adorable I get a guilt complex just telling her to go to bed on time."
"That can't be effective parenting," Jensen says, not realizing how judgmental it might come across until after he's already said it.
Mercifully, Jared's grin just widens. "Anyway, I've decided to get her some kind of consolation prize, since the $2,000 dollhouse is out of the question."
"Can some toy make up for breaking her heart?" Jensen asks, letting a little melodrama color his delivery. "How is she holding up?"
"She's been a good sport about it," Jared says, playfully bowing his head. "She's only gotten three fatal diseases in the last week for which, she's assured me, the only cure is a new dollhouse."
"Well, nice to know my toys can save lives." Jensen shifts his weight. "What did you have in mind?"
"Nothing doll related," Jared says. "Trying not to remind her."
"What else does she like? Maybe a new stuffed animal to add to the gang?"
Jared makes a distressed face. "With the drama already in that crowd, I'd hate to complicate things with another person. She likes board games, but we already have most of the big ones."
"How about a puzzle? We've got a pretty badass collection of those."
"I'd imagine so," Jared says, pointing to the sign over the door. "What with being called 'Puzzles Toy Shop' and all."
Jensen blushes. "I like puzzles," he says, shrugging. "I keep them well-stocked."
"You know, I've never really tried that before. Hard to get a kid to sit still long enough for it, I imagine."
"Depends on the kid," Jensen says. "My dad and I used to do them all the time. Fondest childhood memories. That's why I named the store after them when he…" Jared makes a sorry face as comprehension washes over him. Jensen waves him off. "My point is: they're awesome and educational."
Jared narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You don't make and sell $2,000 puzzles, too, do you?"
Jensen grins. "This sales pitch comes from the heart."
"Well, in that case," Jared says. He inclines his head toward the rest of the store. "Which, uh, which way is this amazing collection?"
"I'll take you, if you want."
Jensen rounds the counter, and Jared snorts. "I'm pretty sure I can navigate the place without getting lost."
Jensen doesn't let his disappointment show. "Just thought you might want a little help picking one."
Jared looks at him closely, then his lips tug up. "You're bored out of your skull over here, aren't you?"
"Like you would not believe," Jensen admits. "Please let me be useful?"
Jared nods and waits until Jensen is next to him to start walking. "So you own this place, huh?"
"Family business," Jensen says cheerfully.
"Forgive me for how dorky this is about to sound, but is this, like, the best job ever or what?"
Jensen laughs. "It's pretty awesome."
"Do you get to play with all the toys?"
"Unfortunately not," Jensen says, heart skipping at the disenchantment on Jared's face. "Well, except for the doll stuff because I make all that. Um. Not that I actually play with it or anything."
Jared laughs loudly, his entire hulking mass of a body shaking with it. Jensen should not be looking quite so hard-this is someone's dad for crying out loud-but Jesus, Jared's not letting fatherhood get in the way of his exercise routine, that's for damn sure.
They reach the puzzle section just a few seconds before the door announces another customer, and Jensen reluctantly leaves Jared to find something he thinks Emma will like on his own. Half an hour later, Jared reappears at the counter and Jensen sets aside the magazine he's reading to ring him up.
"Disney princesses," Jared says, placing two boxes on the counter. "Or little Labrador puppies?"
"Both," Jensen says.
Jared laughs. "You're a scrooge," he says.
Jensen blinks innocently. "What? I'm just trying to make sure you don't worry that you've purchased the wrong one."
"Uh huh, sure," Jared says.
"I'm sure she'll love either one," Jensen says, trying for sincere.
Jared sighs. "Yeah, but now I'm terrified I'll get the wrong one."
"I'm amazing," Jensen says, turning one of the boxes over to scan the barcode.
"Amazing," Jared agrees flatly.
Jensen sticks his tongue out. Jared ignores it, digging into his pocket and pulling out loose change until he's found a few stray bills to pay with. "So this whole time you've been tricking me into throwing money at you and I still haven't gotten your name," Jared says.
"Jensen." Jensen smiles and hands over Jared's change. Their fingers brush, just like last time, and again Jensen looks away, hoping he's not being too obvious. "My name's Jensen."
"Jensen," Jared says slowly. "I like it," he decides after a few seconds. He picks up his bag, gives Jensen one last smile, and leaves.
_______________________________________________________________
Jared comes in every few days after that. He explains that it's a system he and Emma worked out: they go to the toy store every few days and if she's good all week, she gets to pick something small every Friday. It seems to be working; Emma is a perfect lady, at least until something she wants catches her notice.
"Why do you only have three kinds of chess sets?"
Jensen doesn't turn to see who it is, just keeps fiddling with the arrangement of action figures behind the counter. "Why don't you go to a Toys 'R' Us and leave me the hell alone?"
"I hate to pontificate, but you can't say that in a toy store, mister," Emma says. "There are children about."
Jensen hears Jared chuckle and set her on the floor, followed by the sound of her running off to the doll aisle where she tends to spend most of her time when Jared brings her to Puzzles.
"Did she just say 'pontificate'?" Jensen asks, turning his confused expression from Emma's retreating figure to Jared.
"Word of the day," Jared explains. "Six days in a row and she gets to stay up half an hour later watching TV. This is day two."
"Do you conduct your parenting entirely by making deals?
"It makes my job easier," Jared admits with a shrug. "And, plus, how cute is it when she uses big words like that? It's like an adult in a teeny tiny little body."
"You're weird," Jensen tells him.
Jared grins like he's never gotten a better compliment, then leans on the counter. "I'm serious about the chess, you know. As a paying customer, I demand more chess sets. So now you have to supply. That's how it works."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, indeed. I took some business classes." Jared pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. "I think. Maybe. I don't know, school is all a blur to me."
Jensen laughs. "Well, I took some business classes once upon a time, too, pal. You know what I learned?"
"What'd you learn?" Jared asks, putting an elbow on the counter and resting his chin on it, pretending to be deeply interested.
"I learned that it's important to know your customer," he says. Jared nods like this is exactly what he was trying to say, and Jensen can't help smirking. "You may be the one holding the wallet, but that kid," Jensen points down the next aisle where Emma is carefully examining each shelf, "rules with an iron fist. As long as I'm making her happy, I'm getting your money."
"Well, that's it," Jared says in a huff. "I'm taking my business elsewhere."
Jensen calls his bluff. "Toys 'R' Us. Right down the street. I can draw you a map if that'll help."
Jared laughs. "What, and be like all the cool kids? I don't think so."
Jensen kind of has to wonder why Jared does come here so often. The first time was a fluke, sure, the kid saw a toy store and wanted to come in. But Jensen's not charging bargain prices-he can't really, not with the quality of the toys he sells-and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that Jared's not exactly the kind of person who can afford to ignore good prices for convenience or fancy trimmings. Not that Jensen's complaining or anything. It's just weird, is all.
"No really," Jensen insists. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why the sudden brand loyalty?"
Jared bites his bottom lip and looks around to make sure Emma's distracted. "Look, I don't get to have a lot of adult fun, Jensen. I hardly ever see anyone over the age of eight except at PTA meetings, and I think the last time I went on a date was before I got married." Jared pauses, like he's considering something, and finally shrugs. "You're stupidly attractive and not entirely disagreeable all the time, so...it's kind of refreshing to have found a place where she can amuse herself and I can amuse myself at the same time."
"Well, that was straightforward."
Jared keeps his face trained on a smile, but Jensen sees him drawing back a little. "If I made you uncomfortable, we can-"
Jensen raises an eyebrow, pointing to the framed article hung just above his head. "Jared, that's the piece The New Yorker did on my dollhouses. Which I build. Because I am a guy who owns a toy store and specializes in doll accessories and likes finding new and exciting ways to decorate them. If I'm not gay, I'm pretty sure gay doesn't exist."
Jared lets out a relieved breath, somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Now you're just stereotyping," he says, looking up at Jensen with hair in his eyes.
"Honey, some stereotypes exist for a reason," Jensen says, faking a little flamboyancy for effect. "I'm pretty sure I'm one of them."
Jared's face lights up. "That's good to know."
"That's good to know?" Jensen echoes. "That's your response?"
"What should my response be?"
"You should let me take you out to dinner," Jensen says. "Saturday night, for example."
"She is with her mom this Saturday," Jared answers, clearly distracted as he mulls it over. He takes way too long, and for a moment Jensen thinks he's not going to say yes. Then he turns his attention back to Jensen. "Yeah. That sounds…I'd like that."
"You sound like you're agreeing to go to the dentist, man."
Jared laughs, ducking his head a little, but doesn’t say anything else on the matter.
_______________________________________________________________
"So," Jensen says, rounding a corner. Dinner was at an Italian joint a few blocks from Jared's place, and it went so well that Jared asked Jensen to walk him home, even though Jensen parked his car back by the restaurant. Jensen feels a little like he's in high school again, but he said yes anyway because he doesn't really want the night to end and, well, he's also hoping he's about to get lucky. What, at least he's honest. "You've been coming to my store for how many weeks now?"
"Six. And a half if you count the first time."
"Right," Jensen says. "And we've gone through this whole date and you still haven't told me what you do."
"Hah," Jared says, bringing his big hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "I guess I'm an unemployed trophy husband." Jensen stares blankly, so Jared continues, "That's what you call it, right? When you're a stay-at-home dad and your wife leaves you?"
Jensen chuckles, not sure if that's the right response, but Jared gives him a good, closed-lip smile, and they keep walking. "Still interested, now that you know I'm a loser?"
"You're raising a kid," Jensen points out. "That's more than I do."
Jared rolls his eyes and huffs, so Jensen stops, turning his body toward Jared's and taking his hand. "What? I'm serious."
"Yeah, but-"
Jensen leans in and kisses him, and Jared returns it for a few seconds before Jensen draws back, holding his face close enough to Jared's that he can keep his voice at a suggestive whisper. "Besides, you'd have to try pretty hard to lose my interest right now."
The hand Jared wraps around his neck is so big it's dizzying, giving Jensen all kinds of dirty thoughts, and before he knows it, Jared's tugging him in and kissing him hard. He tastes a little like meat sauce and the wine they've both been drinking, and Jensen licks in deeper to savor the flavors and the little noises Jared makes.
When they finally break the kiss, Jared keeps a hold on his hand, tugs him forward in the direction of his apartment. "Look I don't want to be too forward," he starts, and Jensen nearly laughs at the suggestion that he could be, "but do you wanna come up? For some wine?"
Jensen accepts, and within five minutes, he's sitting on Jared's big brown couch, looking around a cluttered but welcoming living room while Jared rummages in the kitchen. The room is packed with toys, some Jensen recognizes from his shop and some that must have come from somewhere else. The walls are covered in scribbles: a mix of construction paper projects Emma probably brought home from school and crayon figures about her height drawn directly onto the tan walls of the apartment. The coffee table is so covered in art supplies that Jensen starts moving things to make room for the wine glasses Jared's about to bring in.
"Obviously didn't straighten up," Jared is saying as he re-enters the living room. "Wish I had now. Sorry about the mess."
Jensen picks up what looks like a few folded scraps of paper, until he turns one over and is instead greeted by a moose in a party hat, waving up at him with one hand and holding a balloon that says "I moose wish you a happy birthday!" in the other. He laughs to himself as he sorts through about five cards, each with hand-drawn animals and related puns, and holds one up for Jared to see as he takes the empty spot on the couch. "What are these?"
"Oh god, how embarrassing," Jared says, setting a glass of dark red wine down in front of Jensen and taking a sip from his own. "Please just pretend you never saw them."
"No, come on!" Jensen insists. He can feel himself smiling so hard it hurts. "Did you make them?"
"Just something I do to stay busy when Emma and I are having art hour, you know? God they're terrible, I know that. I cannot believe of all the things you could have picked up-"
Jensen shuts him up with a kiss. "I think they're awesome."
"I have a whole box of them around here somewhere." Jared shakes his head. "They're fun, what can I say? My friends like them, at least."
"You ever thought about selling them?"
Jared takes the cards out of Jensen's hand and puts them on the coffee table. "In my crazier moments. But they're cheesy, I know that. It's just a hobby, I guess."
"Cheesy? Okay, yes, no doubt. But they're really charming." Jared tries to blow the compliment off, but Jensen insists, "Seriously, Jared, the people that shop at my store would go crazy for cute handmade cards like this. Half of my customers are buying last minute birthday presents anyway, I could probably make good business out of these."
Jared laughs. "You're really serious?"
"Yeah, absolutely," Jensen replies. "I'll make sure you get all the profits back."
"Oh, please. You can have the stupid cards, I've got more than I can give away. Piles just lying around here not doing me any good. Not that I actually think you'll be able to sell any, but you knock yourself out trying." Jared takes another sip of his wine and then another, as if he's trying to work up to something. Then he bites his bottom lip and looks pointedly at Jensen's. "Anyway, this is so not what we should be talking about."
Jensen can't really resist an invitation like that. "What should we be talking about, then?"
Jared leans in, closing the distance between them. "Shouldn't be talking at all," he replies, and before Jensen's ready for it, he's lying back on the couch, Jared on top of him, body positioned between his legs, and they're making out desperately.
After some long minutes of kissing and grinding together, Jared sits back on the couch, looking Jensen up and down with dark eyes. He grins and suddenly he's kneeling on the floor, moving Jensen so that he's sitting with his legs spread wide, and Jared's big hands move up and down his thighs.
"Listen, Jensen, I, uh," he licks his lips, "I haven't done this in a really long time, but," he looks up, his eyes meeting Jensen's and searching him out, "I'd really love to suck your cock."
"Jesus," Jensen replies, startled by how fast this is moving.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jared says, and he tries to pull away. "I knew I should hold back, I swear I'm not usually-"
"That was not a no," Jensen replies, reaching down to catch Jared with one hand buried in his hair, and he pushes Jared forward by the back of his head. "Do it."
Jared grins up with this giddy excitement…Jensen doesn't think he's that drunk, and he wonders if maybe he should have started dating sex-starved single dads years ago. He palms at Jensen's dick through his khakis for a few seconds, big warm hands making Jensen crazy and half-hard already, so he shifts his hips, trying to fit comfortably inside his pants.
He doesn't have to wait long for Jared to take the hint. He undoes Jensen's belt and works his cock out of his pants, hand stroking so good over Jensen's shaft as Jared gets him ready.
It's then, when Jensen is just about fully hard and Jared is pressing in, his mouth so close to the head of Jensen's dick that he can feel Jared's breath ghosting over him when he exhales, that the phone rings.
Immediately, Jared freezes, and Jensen wants to shout for him to ignore it, to finish what he started, but after about half a minute of Jared obviously torn as he tries to decide what to do here, the answering machine jumps in and makes the decision for him.
"Pick up the damn phone, Jared," a woman's voice says through the tinny receiver, and Jensen watches Jared slump in disappointment. He lets his head drop, resting against Jensen's thigh as they both listen in dismay to a few more seconds of the message. "Emma's throwing a fit. She was supposed to be in bed two hours ago, she hasn't stopped crying. She says she had a nightmare and she wants you to come pick her up. Look I have work to do, I don't have-"
By now, Jared's gotten up and answered the phone, sending Jensen an apologetic glance as he answers. "Hello?"
Jensen sighs, starting to tuck himself away. It's pretty clear that they're done here.
"I can’t do that," Jared says. "I'm in the middle of-no, Gen, it's your night. Two nights a week, that's all I'm asking for."
Jensen hears something, muffled through the other line that sounds a lot like, "Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"
"Figure it out!" Jared replies. "Read her a story, she likes-"
Whatever she responds with, it makes the fight all drain out of Jared. He sighs, the hand not holding the phone combing through his hair anxiously. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be there in twenty."
He hangs up and looks over at Jensen. "I am so sorry."
"Hey, comes with the territory, right?" Jensen shrugs, trying not to seem or sound as frustrated as he is, but it's obvious he doesn't pull it off, not completely, not from the face Jared gives him.
"It's just, my ex-wife. She's, uh. She's not great with kids. I mean, she's not a bad mom or anything. Usually they get along fine, but as soon as Emma gets anxious she gets anxious and they feed off each other and make it worse and I just-"
Jensen stands up and crosses the room, putting a hand on Jared's wrist. "Jared, seriously. It's fine. You don't have to explain. I get it."
"It's not fine," Jared says, looking at Jensen for a few seconds, and it seems like he's thinking about kissing Jensen again, but then he turns his head sharply to stare at the carpet instead. "It's anything but fine right now, and I wish I could tell her to suck it up, but I can't punish Emma like that. I have to go."
"I'll drive you."
"What?" Jared shakes his head. "No, come on. I think I've made your night miserable enough."
"I had a nice time," Jensen says, and when Jared tries to protest, Jensen plays dirty. "I've had a lot less to drink than you have. I'm good to drive, and you might be fine if it was just us, but do you really wanna take a chance with your daughter in the car?"
Jared thinks over that for all of a few seconds before he shakes his head again. "I'll call a cab. I couldn't possibly-"
"I'm offering," says Jensen.
"We won't be able to…do anything when we get back. I mean, I'll have to put her to bed and that'll be a whole-"
"I'm not that sleazy, Jared," Jensen cuts in. "I can give you a ride without expecting-"
"That's not what I meant. God, fuck, I just keep screwing up." He runs both his hands through his hair, and Jensen thinks it's totally unfair that the mix of concerned responsibility in his expression and the silly little boy hair sticking out in every direction only makes him more attractive. "I feel terrible."
"C'mon," Jensen says, completely ignoring Jared's protests. "My car's still at the restaurant, so we better get walking."
Jared finally closes his mouth and gives a petulant nod, allowing Jensen to lead him out. The walk is faster this time, no stopping to kiss, no hand-holding stroll. Jared gives him directions once they're both in the car, and Jensen channels his frustration into driving, which has always been a way he lets off steam.
"How did you guys end up with a kid if she doesn't like them?" Jensen asks, not realizing until it's out that he sounds nasty, like he's every bit as annoyed at Jared's ex as he maybe kind of is.
"I think it was mostly my fault," Jared admits. He's sitting with his head pushed back against the headrest, throat exposed in a way Jensen's definitely going to go home and obsess over, and his eyes are closed. Jensen thinks he's probably trying to sober up before they get to where they're going.
"We were really great together when we were young and everything was easy. And then I wanted a kid and Gen wanted to work and I think between me insisting and our parents always asking she felt like she had to a little bit. I'm sure she really convinced herself she wanted a baby by the time we finally got pregnant, I know I'd convinced myself it was what we both wanted. But at the end of the day it wasn't."
"That why you guys…?" Jensen lets the question linger, not wanting to finish it. He's pretty sure he doesn't have the right to ask any of this on a first date, but, well. He feels pretty smack in the middle of it right about now.
"Yeah, a little." Jared shrugs. "She's a bit of a workaholic. Brilliant at what she does-she's a lawyer, so it was always kind of hot, how intimidatingly good she is at her job. But I needed more attention than she could give-Emma too, obviously-and it all just got sour."
"Ah," Jensen says, like he gets it when really all he gets is that Jared maybe shouldn't have been married in the first place.
As if he's reading Jensen's mind, Jared lifts his head from where it's been resting, says, "We're very different people. Probably never made much sense together. But, hey, when you're 23 and in love…"
Jensen lets out an amused huff under his breath. He can definitely recall some questionable calls he made at that age because it was for the truest of true loves-the kind that lasts a whole six months if you're lucky, and then you wake up one day and realize the guy you took for prince charming is a mouth breather with mommy issues. "I hear ya."
Jared points left, to a huge, intimidating apartment complex. "This is it."
Jensen whistles. "She's not doing too bad for herself, huh?"
It's a sharp contrast from the place Jared's living-not that his apartment isn't nice in its hominess, but it's a cardboard box compared to the building they're pulling into now. Jensen almost asks, but before he can, Jared's getting out of the car.
"Yeah, I know," Jared says, a little like Jensen hit a nerve. "Emma and I moved out as soon as the divorce was finalized. I never really felt at home here."
"What's not to feel at home about?" Jensen jokes, even as Jared's leading him through the overwrought lobby, giving an awkward wave to the concierge. "Plastic flower arrangements the size of Wisconsin not your scene?"
Jared snorts as he holds some shiny leaves back before they get a chance to smack Jensen in the face, and then they're stepping into a silver elevator, mirrors on all sides.
"She's on the 8th floor," Jared says, just to say something, as he presses the button. Jensen nods, and then silence settles between them, thick and awkward. He's trying not to think about how weird this all is when the elevator dings and Jared gets out, leading him down a hall.
When he finally stops in front of door 819 and knocks, it opens so fast Jensen has to wonder if someone's been waiting on the other side. A very pretty but frazzled brunette is standing at the threshold, and Jensen can hear Emma screaming in the background.
"Thank god you're here," she says. "She hasn't stopped crying in-"
She goes quiet as soon as her eyes land on Jensen, her face coloring a little. "Shit, I didn't realize you were-"
"Save it, Gen," Jared replies, pushing past her and disappearing into the apartment. Which leaves Jensen alone with the ex.
"Uh," she says, at least having the decency to look sorry. "Do you want to come in?"
"Think I better not," Jensen says.
Gen nods. They stand in painful silence for a few seconds before she gives him a lopsided smile. "Jared's a great guy! Not that-you probably already knew that. But, uh, I mean, you should date him! Again. For a whole date. That I will not ruin. You're probably not looking for a recommendation from me. I should shut up. I'll shut up."
Jensen kind of snorts, but he's smiling at her when Jared reappears, Emma on one arm, resting her head on his shoulder, half-asleep already, and a huge bag slung over his other shoulder.
"Jesus, how do you do that?" Gen asks.
"Say goodnight to Mommy, Emma," Jared says, ignoring his ex entirely.
Emma blinks her eyes open and smiles at her mom. "Night, Mommy. I love you."
Gen steps forward and pushes the brown curls spilling over Jared's shoulder away before pressing a kiss to Emma's forehead. "Love you too, baby. Mommy's gonna miss you. Be good for Daddy, okay?"
Emma nods and then she rests her head on Jared's shoulder again, apparently about to go to sleep when she sees Jensen. "Aren't you the man from the toy store?"
Jensen nods, feeling his cheeks burn.
"Do I get a present?"
He shakes his head as Jared starts walking.
"Jensen is a friend, Emma," Jared explains. "He didn't bring you a toy, he came to say hello."
"Okay," she says, sounding only a little disappointed. "I like friends more than toys, anyway." She yawns before adding, "Sometimes."
He hears one last laugh from Gen and then the sound of the door clicking shut.
By the time they get to the car and Jared straps Emma into the backseat, she's out cold, so they stay quiet for the ride back to Jared's place. Jensen sticks around to help carry her stuff upstairs and watches Jared tuck his daughter into bed from the door of her room.
He looks exhausted by the time he finally turns to Jensen and gestures for Jensen to go ahead into the living room. Jensen waits in the hallway for Jared to shut the door to Emma's room before he says, "I guess I should go."
"Yeah," Jared agrees, fingers still on the door handle, aiming his words down at his feet. "Listen, Jensen, I'm so sorry that-"
"I told you, man, I get it." Jensen angles Jared's chin up so their eyes meet, and he makes himself smile. "I'll let you buy me dinner next time to make up for it?"
Jared's eyes are still evasive. "Right. Next time."
He wasn't born yesterday; Jensen knows a rejection when he hears one. "Or not?"
"I wasn't going to apologize that this happened. I was going to apologize for agreeing to go out with you in the first place. I shouldn't have said yes when you asked last week," he says, finally looking up. "It was selfish of me."
Jensen shakes his head, rounding the couch before sitting down and looking up at Jared behind him. "You didn't know."
"I knew something like this would happen. Something like this always happens." Jared sighs as he takes the empty space next to Jensen and he sends a sorry look to the wineglasses still sitting on the coffee table. "I just wanted you so much. But I shouldn't have dragged you in."
"Okay, but this doesn't mean that-"
Jared licks his lips, and it's fucking cruel that his mouth looks so pink and shiny and biteable when Jensen knows Jared is trying to tell him that's never going to happen again. "You're a great guy, Jensen."
"Oh, lovely," Jensen says with a forced laugh. "I've heard that one before."
"No, seriously. You're a great guy. I'd be lucky to have you, anyone would. Hell, I wish I'd met you ten years ago-or, no, maybe like six years from now when Emma's old enough to be on her own a little. But for now, she needs me pretty much all the time and she's my priority. And you-you deserve better than to be with someone who can never put you first. It's not fair to you."
"Jared, I would never expect you to put me before your daughter."
"I know that," Jared says. "But really think about it. All our dates are gonna end like this. Every time we go anywhere, she's going to be there. I'm not about to ask you to commit to being her dad, but I can’t just bring people into her life and then have them drop out when we break up. You don't want to be a part of something like that overnight. Maybe Gen interrupting when she did was a good thing in the long run."
Jensen nods-grudgingly, because he was the one two seconds from a blowjob when the phone rang-but he nods. As much as he likes Jared and as charming as Emma is, he isn't ready to be part of someone's family. He hadn't really been thinking of where their relationship would go when he started this date. He's pretty sure he and Jared had both been thinking with their dicks and nothing else. But Jared's got a responsibility to his daughter, and Jensen's not ready to make the sacrifices that being with him would require.
He stands. "I should go."
Jared nods. "I'll clean up, you just-"
"Jared," Jensen interrupts. "We can still be friends, right? I mean, you guys are welcome to come by the store whenever you want."
The smile Jared gives him is a mix of surprised and relieved, and Jensen sees his pretty, pretty dimples and thinks, probably, he's just shot himself in the foot. "I'd love to be friends."
Jensen gives Jared a wicked smile. "Then, as your friend, I'm taking a consolation prize."
Jared's eyebrows knit together in confusion until he sees Jensen putting the lid on a paper box full of Jared's dopey hand-drawn cards, and then he starts laughing so hard he has to cover his mouth so he doesn't wake Emma.
"Good riddance to you both," Jared says when he waves Jensen and his box of cards out the door.
_______________________________________________________________
West Collins is attacking his calves with a bright blue plastic shovel. The sandbox had been too full of other kids to play in, and apparently this was the next best use for the tool.
"Can you please tell your spawn to stop beating me with the toy I bought him?" Jensen says, trying to wave West away, but the kid is too fast for him. Maybe he's getting old.
"West, why are you hurting Uncle Jensen?" Misha asks.
"I'm tenderizing him!" West announces, beginning the routine on Jensen's left leg. Apparently the right has been satisfactorily softened by now.
"He's very into cooking lately," Misha explains, giving Jensen an apologetic look. "If I asked him to stop, it would be limiting his creative expression."
"I see," Jensen says. He waits until West looks truly distracted, then sweeps down and grabs the little terror, propping him on his shoulders. "You want ice cream?"
West throws his shovel down and yells enthusiastically.
"No ice cream if you don't stop tenderizing Uncle Jensen."
"Deal," West says. "Can I be a pilot instead?"
Jensen laughs and before too long, West is making airplane noises, steering Jensen with little tugs left and right on his ears. It's a sign of just how much he's had to put up with over the last four years that by now he's pretty much able to ignore the melee going on over his shoulders entirely.
"And then he said we could still be friends," Jensen says, continuing the conversation he and Misha had been having five minutes ago as if it was never interrupted by shovels or flying toddlers. "So that's where that stands."
"What a jerk," Misha says, ever the supportive friend.
Jensen sighs. "He isn't a jerk, though. He's awesome. That's kind of why it sucks so much, you know? I had a great time up until everything blew up."
"Well, why don’t you guys just go out again?" Misha points at his son. "It's not like you aren't great with kids. I don't see why trying to make it work isn't an option."
"Because it's one thing to babysit or hang out with my best friend's kid and something completely different to date someone who can never give me any of his time."
"Right, I guess," Misha says. "But I still say-"
"I'm tired of being a pilot now," West announces. Jensen places West on the grass and he takes one of his dad's hands and one of Jensen's. "When I count to three, pick me up and swing me."
"Alright, buddy," Jensen says. He turns to look at Misha. "This kid is exhausting."
"I never noticed," Misha replies, in that way he has-after all the years they've been friends, Jensen still can't tell if it's incredibly earnest or incredibly sarcastic.
"One, two, three," West counts, and then he's swinging a few steps forward, letting out a happy, "whee!"
"Jensen?"
Jensen stops instantly and looks up from West to see Jared standing a few feet away, holding Emma by one hand and staring.
"Jared," he replies.
"Well, you sure have a type," Jared says, more than a little bitchy, looking from Misha to West and back to Jensen.
Jensen lets out a nervous laugh when he realizes what Jared thinks is going on. "What? No-God, no. This is my friend from college, Misha. We're not-I mean-Jesus, no."
"Thanks, Jensen," Misha grumbles. "My wife happens to think I'm quite a catch. Or at least that's what she tells me."
"Sorry," Jared replies, his cheeks coloring. "I shouldn't have said that. I mean, even if you were-"
"You said your name was Jared?" Misha says, interrupting what's quickly turning into a very awkward moment for everyone involved. "Then this little lady must be Emma."
"I most certainly am," Emma says with a curtsy.
"She's pretty," West says.
Misha laughs, picking his son up. "And this charmer here is Jensen's godson, West Collins, evil overlord of Australia and the Netherlands. Or at least that's what he was yesterday."
"Today I'm a chef pilot," West reminds his dad. "And maybe a wizard."
"Right, yes, of course. How could I forget?" Misha turns his attention back to Jared and pastes on a big smile. "Jensen's great with kids and very responsible. Isn't Uncle Jensen great, West?"
"The best," West agrees. "Can I have my ice cream now?"
Misha stage whispers, "You can have two Freezey Pops after you tell the nice man about how much you love Uncle Jensen."
"Uncle Jensen is my favorite uncle," West says obediently. "Much less smelly than Uncle Steve."
"Overselling it!" Jensen shoves Misha in the side and ruffles West's hair.
Jared laughs, ducking his head so all Jensen can see are the bangs in his eyes and his dimpled grin. "Not that I would doubt it for a second."
"I was just about to swing by that there ice cream truck for some low-fat refreshments," Misha says, pointing at the truck so that Jared can see that it's near enough to keep an eye on. "Perhaps Emma would like to join us?"
Jared glances in Jensen's direction and Jensen gives him a small smile and a subtle nod, understanding that Jared's trying to make sure this guy is safe to trust with his kid, even if only for a few minutes.
"How about it, Emma?" Jared gets down on one knee in front of his daughter. "You want some ice cream?"
"Do I want ice cream?" Emma replies, shaking her head sadly. She grabs her doll out of her dad's hands and marches toward Misha and West. "The things he asks me sometimes."
"Can I play with your doll?" West asks as Emma joins him and they begin to walk off toward the truck.
"Her name is Rosie," Emma explains, handing Rosie to West. "My mommy got her for me for Christmas. She pees when I give her her bottle."
West laughs like that's the best thing he's ever heard, and Misha sends Jensen and Jared a wry look before following the kids.
Once they're suitably alone, Jensen turns to Jared. "So..."
"So," Jared replies. He shakes some hair out of his face and gives Jensen a weak smile. "Already telling all your friends what a disaster our date was?"
Jensen laughs. "Hardly put it in those words. But we grown-ups do talk."
"How have you been?" Jared asks.
Jensen tries to look playful, but he's willing to bet he's not very convincing. "Honestly? Missed my favorite customers on Friday."
Jared looks down at his hands. "I figured you wouldn't want to see me after-"
"I thought we agreed to be friends?"
With a laugh, Jared finally looks up and meets Jensen's eyes. "I kind of thought you were just saying that to be polite."
"I wasn't." Jensen rubs his hands together and then shoves them in his pockets. "It wasn't that bad a date, Jared."
"You met my ex-wife and went home with blue balls," Jared replies, raising an eyebrow.
Jensen can't help laughing at that. "She gave you a great recommendation, though! Five out of five stars."
"Oh god, she would." Jared looks back out at the ice cream truck. "I'm not being entirely honest. I needed some time to, uh, get over myself, I guess. That was embarrassing and…you…you took it well. I kind of wish you'd been pissed. Would have been easier to get over if you had."
"Were you ever planning to show your face in my store again?"
Jared shrugs. "I honestly don't know. I let myself think I could have something just for me. Haven't done that in years. And then I blew it. I needed some time to mope."
"You finished moping yet?" Jensen asks. He follows Jared's sightline and sees Misha approaching, West and Emma a few steps ahead, each holding an ice cream in one hand and one of Rosie's little plastic arms in the other.
Jared nods.
"Good," Jensen says, nodding his head at the kids. "Because I have a feeling we're being set up on a playdate whether we want it or not."
Laughing, Jared turns to Jensen. "I hope she doesn't think younger children work the same as puppies and kittens. Listen, if she tries to adopt him and it looks like I'm about to give in to the begging, please intervene."
"Don't worry," Jensen tells him. "For whatever reason, I'm pretty sure Misha enjoys having that little rascal around. Plus, his wife calls all the shots. He won't let someone carry their kid off without her permission."
"What a relief," Jared jokes, checking Jensen's shoulder with his own.
They spend four hours at the park, mostly playing with the kids, and when Jared and Emma go their separate ways in the parking lot, Jared casually says he'll see Jensen next week. Jensen can't help smiling at that, waving as he watches Jared get into his car.
"Oh yeah," Misha says, stopping next to Jensen and looking from Jared's car to Jensen. "You're just interested in his friendship."
"What?" Jensen says, turning to look at his friend.
Misha shakes his head. "The dopey grin. The nervous giggling. The thing you do where you pull away really fast every time you guys bump into each other."
"He was it!" Jensen insists. "I was trying not to get caught."
"I don't know, Uncle Jensen. You let him catch you lots of times."
Jensen scowls at a four year old, which is probably his version of rock bottom. "Where do your toys come from, West?"
"I take it back," West says.
"You are smitten, my friend. You are smitten, and this can only end one way."
"Disaster?" Jensen asks. Then he shakes his head. "I am not smitten! It was one date."
"Marriage and babies," Misha says. "A life doomed by marital bliss. It's not all bad, mind you. Just look at me!"
Thankfully, West interrupts his father's teasing. "Emma was pretty. Can I marry her?"
"Maybe when you're older," Misha says. "If you do your chores when you're old enough to have any. Right now we have Uncle Jensen's wedding to worry about first."
"Stop it, okay?" Jensen feels a little like he's pouting, but oh well. "I'm not pretending I don't have a big stupid crush on the guy. He's the one that called things off, so just…let it go, alright?"
"Oh please," West says, tugging Jensen's jeans until Jensen bends down to pick him up. "He was even more obvious than you were, Uncle Jensen."
Jensen sighs as Misha begins to sing the Wedding March and West joins in cheerfully.
ON TO PART TWO
Fandom: Real Person Fic: CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen, past Jared/Genevieve
Rating: R for some sexuality, alcohol use, and language
Word Count: 20,763
Author’s Note: This is a story inspired by a trip ordinaryink and I took to FAO Schwarz a few years ago. We spent like two hours in their dollhouse section admiring the dollhouses and the tiny furniture and the absolutely ridiculous amount of detail that went into the props. LIKE TINY DOLL MONOPOLY SETS AND BRAND CRACKER BOXES AND NEWSPAPERS THAT YOU COULD ACTUALLY READ. Those dolls were living better than we were, yo. And that shit was expensive. And I was like, "This is someone's job. Someone gets to charge crazy prices to make tiny doll garbage cans full of tiny doll actual garbage." Long story short, this unsurprisingly led to a fic idea. And so dollhouse-maker!Jensen and single-dad!Jared was born. Y'all welcome. Now, this was supposed to be done for rpf_big_bang in 2011, but both Tracey and I fucked up. Then it was supposed to be-and is still supposed to be-for kidficstory, though I am exactly two months late for that, so wow I suck. But thank you to the mod for being understanding. And even more thanks to cassiopeia7, whose body I purchased at fandomaid and who drew this absolutely perfect art, which was so right for this story, as I knew it would be. Please check out her great art and say nice things to her, she deserves to hear them because she had to deal with me being a crazy person…as I do. Thank you also to my beta, kiwiana, and wutendeskind who consulted with me on just how unrealistic I was being with this kid's age because fucked if I know anything about kids, I came for the tiny monopoly.
Summary: AU: Jensen owns Puzzles Toys, a high-end store specializing in making and selling dollhouses. Jared is a regular; he stops by every few days with his daughter, Emma. They visit so often that Jensen can't help starting to suspect it's not just toys bringing them back.
ART
AO3 // PDF
PART ONE
The child is a hurricane.
In Jensen's line of work, you get to know every type of kid there is in the world, from the eerily quiet to the exhaustingly loud. He's had little businessmen walk into his shop and carefully bargain for the best toy they could squeeze out of their parents and he's had brats kick and scream and refuse to budge from the floor until their battered parents surrendered to their whims. He's watched all these interactions closely-there's not really much else to do during the day-and he considers himself a bit of an expert on classifying children. Jensen knows a hurricane when he sees one.
They're rare, even for Jensen to spot. These are the kids who sweep into a place and shake everything up just by being there. They aren't necessarily loud, though Jensen's never seen a shy one. Not spoiled or ill-behaved-at least it's not a requirement. But you can't ignore them, not even when they're quiet; they're built for attention and generally come with one or two adults trailing them, equal parts frustrated and charmed by the firecracker they've got on their hands.
This one is no different. Jensen feels her presence before he hears the jingling at the door and looks up to see her-all three feet of her. Long brown curls all the way down her back, a big, neat bow sitting on top of her head, her pink dress matching the bow perfectly. She hasn't got a single wrinkle or stain on it, not one curl is out of place. She's talking away at a million words a minute, and she's pulling a man behind her, one hand on the door and the other wrapped up in his. She drags him into the store a little like she's walking a dog, and he's got that lost-parent look on his face, like he's just along for the ride and he knows it. She's probably five or six, though she seems to be taking whatever she's talking about very seriously.
She pauses in her chatter for a moment, nodding at Jensen behind the counter with comical dignity and poise. "Good afternoon, sir," she says.
Jensen blinks a few times, then looks up at her dad (assuming that's who this guy is). He's taken a break from being overwhelmed to smile and shrug at whatever expression Jensen's wearing. He's absurdly hot, especially with the way his face lights up with this grin. Jensen shakes his head and turns his attention back to the little girl to say hello, but she seems to have lost interest in him in the few seconds he wasn't focused on her.
"Don't you see?" she asks, clearly distressed. "Mr. Frog and Coco the Gorilla are perfectly happy together, and everyone thinks that's great, but none of them even cares that Stacy the Unicorn has been in love with Mr. Frog forever. She's much prettier and nicer, but Froggy's too wrapped up in Coco to even notice."
Jensen snorts, and the guy who's with the girl meets his eyes. He's making a concerned face, like the plight of the toys his daughter is ranting about deeply affects him, but his eyes are playful. "Of course, princess, that's terrible. Why don't we get Stacy a nice boyfriend so she can forget about Mr. Frog?"
"I agree completely," she says solemnly before turning her attention to Jensen again. "Where can I find the stuffed animals?" she asks. "It's very important."
Jensen points. "Down that aisle, take a right when you get to the end."
"Thanks," the dad says in passing as he's pulled hastily in the direction Jensen indicated.
Jensen can hear her continuing with the stuffed toy soap opera for a few seconds before the sound fades into the muted radio Jensen's had going for the last few hours. It's been a calm day-even in the middle of the summer in a toy store, there aren't many people shopping on Wednesdays-and, truth be told, Jensen's maybe a little sorry to lose the entertainment.
An old lady comes up after five more minutes of boredom, asking about a Lego set for her grandson's birthday, and Jensen helps her, leaving the comfortable seclusion of his register to show her where to find what she's looking for and help her choose from the embarrassingly large selection of Legos he keeps stocked.
The little girl and her dad are standing by the counter when he gets back, and Jensen can't help smiling at the fact that she's too distracted by her new toy to pay him any attention at all.
"Did you find what you were looking for okay?" Jensen asks, directing the question at the guy.
He smiles softly and nods, patting the little girl on the back. "Emma, let me have Artie for a second so I can pay for him."
She hands the toy up, and her father passes him to Jensen.
"A rhinoceros, huh?" Jensen asks. "I guess that makes sense. They can bond over what it's like to have horns on their head."
The dad laughs, but Emma gasps and looks up at him with awe. "Yes, that's exactly right," she tells him. "You're a very wise man."
"Um, thanks," he says, scanning the toy's tag. "You know, I don't want to cause problems here, but I hear this rhinoceros is a bit of a troublemaker. Sure he's right for your unicorn?"
Emma considers it for a few seconds, her head cocked to one side and a serious expression on her face. Then she nods. "It's okay. Stacy will make him a better man. Plus, every group needs a troublemaker."
"Sweetie, I thought I told you not to listen to anything Uncle Chad told you."
She rolls her eyes. "I know, Daddy. But Uncle Chad said that's only because you don't have street cred and you're jealous of him."
Jensen raises an eyebrow.
"I really need to reconsider who I let babysit my kid," the guy tells him. "Just know it was an emergency."
"Hey, man," Jensen says, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm not asking questions. I'm just here to take your money."
"So I guess that means I should pay you then?" Jensen makes an amused sound and nods as the dad reaches into his back pocket to pull his wallet out. "How much do I owe you?"
Jensen tells him and waits for the guy to pay, trying not to let his mind run away with dirty responses to the question. Once he's printed the receipt, he slides it across the counter, not realizing the dad was already reaching for it. Their hands bump for a second, and Jensen pulls away, hoping he's not blushing.
The man stands there, eyes locked with Jensen's for a second too long before he looks back down and frowns. "Shit," he says under his breath. "You don't watch them for a second and they're gone."
Jensen laughs a little, moving away from the register as the guy turns and starts calling out his daughter's name. He moves back in the direction of the stuffed animals, but Jensen spots her only a few feet away from where she'd been standing. The rhino she was so excited about a moment ago is now hanging forgotten from one hand as she stares up, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
"Hey, she's over here," Jensen calls out, pointing when the dad turns around, worried expression abating a little.
He rounds the aisle, stopping next to his daughter and putting his hands on his hips. "Emma, what did I tell you about wandering off?"
She doesn't bother to answer, just points up. In the back of Jensen's head, flashing dollar bill shaped neon lights go off. It's not often he gets to make a big sale, so he moves to stand closer to the dollhouses.
"I want it," she says. "Daddy! Daddy, I want it."
The man is tall enough to be almost on level with the dollhouse display Jensen has on the shelves around the ceiling of the store, so he reaches for the price tag dangling down and visibly winces. "Not today, baby. You just got a new toy."
She holds up the rhinoceros. "I don't want him anymore. I want that."
"Mommy bought you a new dollhouse for Christmas," he says. "It would hurt her feelings if you don't play with it."
"But I want that one," she says again, like this is all very simple. Jensen backs away a little, caught between wanting to push for the sale and wanting to tell the kid to drop it.
The dad turns to look at him. "How does a dollhouse cost that much?"
Jensen shrugs. "They're handmade. Kind of what we're known for."
The man stands up on his toes to get a better look, squinting. "No way," he says. "No one has enough time on their hands to give a dollhouse that much attention."
Jensen coughs pointedly. "I make them."
"Oh," the man says, looking sheepish as he puts his weight back on his heels and steps away from the dollhouse. "It's, um. Really nice."
Jensen barks out a laugh. "You think this is bad, you should see the accessories. Hours and hours of my life painting tiny furniture."
"Can I see it closer?" the little girl asks, interrupting the conversation.
"Sure," Jensen says, reaching up.
The dad stops him with a hand on his wrist, shaking his head when Jensen meets his eyes. He leans in and speaks in hushed tones, "Look, I get that you've got a job here, but please don't. We can’t afford it, making her love it any more is just gonna make me the bad guy."
Jensen frowns, letting go of the house and nodding sharply. "Yeah, I'm sorry, man."
The dad shrugs, going down on one knee in front of his daughter. "Sweetheart, how about we buy one of your dolls some new furniture instead of a whole new house?"
Emma pouts, her arms crossing over her chest. "But Daddy, it's so much better than the one Mommy bought me."
Jensen swells up a little at that. Which, okay, embarrassing, but this is how he's somehow ended up spending his life, so it's nice to hear he's at least doing it right every now and again. He can see the guy floundering for an excuse to explain his way out of buying this house, so Jensen decides he'd better play the bad guy instead.
"I'm afraid that one is not for sale," he says. "It's mine and I'm not letting anyone take it."
The dad looks up from his daughter, shocked at first. Jensen sees the moment he catches up to what's going on, and the grateful smile on his face is worth it.
"That's not very nice," Emma says. "We could share it. My teacher said sharing is the best thing in the world."
"That's true," Jensen agrees. "But I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to share this one."
She sighs, giving the dollhouse one last dreamy glance. "I guess I can't blame you," she says, her shoulders slumping. "I wouldn't share it either."
Jensen feels a little guilty-she is really, really damn cute-but her dad is pretty cute, too, and he rises to his feet, giving Jensen another overwhelming smile.
"Thanks," he says. He picks Emma up and holds her on one arm, pushing her hair back behind her ear. She's upgraded her pout now, her bottom lip trembling. Her dad leans in and kisses her on the cheek. "Hey, sweetie, don't cry. We can go get ice cream on the way home."
She sniffs, passing her arm over her nose and giving Jensen a glare as her father carries her out of the shop. "I guess that helps a little," she admits.
"Thanks, come again," he mumbles, more out of habit than because he actually expects this guy to ever bring his kid back into a store that made her cry.
The man turns to look at him one last time, and Jensen could swear his eyes are darker than they were a second ago. "Oh, we will," he promises, and then the door is chiming as it closes behind them.
_______________________________________________________________
Jensen doesn't actually believe him when he says he'll be back, but a few days later the door sings the arrival of a customer, and Jensen looks up to find the guy standing in front of him at the register. He's alone this time, and he smiles when Jensen meets his eyes.
"Hey," he says.
Jensen smirks. "I should let you know ahead of time, we have a no return policy on stuffed rhinoceroses. He's your problem now."
The guy laughs. "Artie is assimilating very well, I'll have you know. Emma tells me he's almost entirely reformed. Though I found him on the counter sitting next to a bottle of wine yesterday, so I have my doubts."
"Well, I guess what matters is that she believes," Jensen replies. After a few beats, he decides to stop ogling and remember to be useful. "Was there something else I can do for you?"
"Jared," the man says, holding a hand out. "My name's Jared."
Jensen shakes it. "Was there something I can do for you, Jared?"
"Yeah, I wanted to say thanks. For the other day, you know? I always have to be the one who dashes hopes, so it was nice to get to bond over how mean someone else was for once."
"Oh, any time you need a villain," Jensen says, pointing a thumb at himself. Jared laughs. "Mom not a good disciplinarian?"
"Her mom is actually much better with that kind of thing than I am," he says. His face doesn't change much, though his jaw gets just a tiny bit tighter, and he taps his left hand on the counter anxiously. Jensen can't help being drawn to the lack of a ring.
Sore subject, then. "You sure have your hands full with that one," Jensen says, hoping the distraction will help lighten things up.
"Tell me about it," Jared agrees. "Even before the temper tantrums start, she's so damn adorable I get a guilt complex just telling her to go to bed on time."
"That can't be effective parenting," Jensen says, not realizing how judgmental it might come across until after he's already said it.
Mercifully, Jared's grin just widens. "Anyway, I've decided to get her some kind of consolation prize, since the $2,000 dollhouse is out of the question."
"Can some toy make up for breaking her heart?" Jensen asks, letting a little melodrama color his delivery. "How is she holding up?"
"She's been a good sport about it," Jared says, playfully bowing his head. "She's only gotten three fatal diseases in the last week for which, she's assured me, the only cure is a new dollhouse."
"Well, nice to know my toys can save lives." Jensen shifts his weight. "What did you have in mind?"
"Nothing doll related," Jared says. "Trying not to remind her."
"What else does she like? Maybe a new stuffed animal to add to the gang?"
Jared makes a distressed face. "With the drama already in that crowd, I'd hate to complicate things with another person. She likes board games, but we already have most of the big ones."
"How about a puzzle? We've got a pretty badass collection of those."
"I'd imagine so," Jared says, pointing to the sign over the door. "What with being called 'Puzzles Toy Shop' and all."
Jensen blushes. "I like puzzles," he says, shrugging. "I keep them well-stocked."
"You know, I've never really tried that before. Hard to get a kid to sit still long enough for it, I imagine."
"Depends on the kid," Jensen says. "My dad and I used to do them all the time. Fondest childhood memories. That's why I named the store after them when he…" Jared makes a sorry face as comprehension washes over him. Jensen waves him off. "My point is: they're awesome and educational."
Jared narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You don't make and sell $2,000 puzzles, too, do you?"
Jensen grins. "This sales pitch comes from the heart."
"Well, in that case," Jared says. He inclines his head toward the rest of the store. "Which, uh, which way is this amazing collection?"
"I'll take you, if you want."
Jensen rounds the counter, and Jared snorts. "I'm pretty sure I can navigate the place without getting lost."
Jensen doesn't let his disappointment show. "Just thought you might want a little help picking one."
Jared looks at him closely, then his lips tug up. "You're bored out of your skull over here, aren't you?"
"Like you would not believe," Jensen admits. "Please let me be useful?"
Jared nods and waits until Jensen is next to him to start walking. "So you own this place, huh?"
"Family business," Jensen says cheerfully.
"Forgive me for how dorky this is about to sound, but is this, like, the best job ever or what?"
Jensen laughs. "It's pretty awesome."
"Do you get to play with all the toys?"
"Unfortunately not," Jensen says, heart skipping at the disenchantment on Jared's face. "Well, except for the doll stuff because I make all that. Um. Not that I actually play with it or anything."
Jared laughs loudly, his entire hulking mass of a body shaking with it. Jensen should not be looking quite so hard-this is someone's dad for crying out loud-but Jesus, Jared's not letting fatherhood get in the way of his exercise routine, that's for damn sure.
They reach the puzzle section just a few seconds before the door announces another customer, and Jensen reluctantly leaves Jared to find something he thinks Emma will like on his own. Half an hour later, Jared reappears at the counter and Jensen sets aside the magazine he's reading to ring him up.
"Disney princesses," Jared says, placing two boxes on the counter. "Or little Labrador puppies?"
"Both," Jensen says.
Jared laughs. "You're a scrooge," he says.
Jensen blinks innocently. "What? I'm just trying to make sure you don't worry that you've purchased the wrong one."
"Uh huh, sure," Jared says.
"I'm sure she'll love either one," Jensen says, trying for sincere.
Jared sighs. "Yeah, but now I'm terrified I'll get the wrong one."
"I'm amazing," Jensen says, turning one of the boxes over to scan the barcode.
"Amazing," Jared agrees flatly.
Jensen sticks his tongue out. Jared ignores it, digging into his pocket and pulling out loose change until he's found a few stray bills to pay with. "So this whole time you've been tricking me into throwing money at you and I still haven't gotten your name," Jared says.
"Jensen." Jensen smiles and hands over Jared's change. Their fingers brush, just like last time, and again Jensen looks away, hoping he's not being too obvious. "My name's Jensen."
"Jensen," Jared says slowly. "I like it," he decides after a few seconds. He picks up his bag, gives Jensen one last smile, and leaves.
_______________________________________________________________
Jared comes in every few days after that. He explains that it's a system he and Emma worked out: they go to the toy store every few days and if she's good all week, she gets to pick something small every Friday. It seems to be working; Emma is a perfect lady, at least until something she wants catches her notice.
"Why do you only have three kinds of chess sets?"
Jensen doesn't turn to see who it is, just keeps fiddling with the arrangement of action figures behind the counter. "Why don't you go to a Toys 'R' Us and leave me the hell alone?"
"I hate to pontificate, but you can't say that in a toy store, mister," Emma says. "There are children about."
Jensen hears Jared chuckle and set her on the floor, followed by the sound of her running off to the doll aisle where she tends to spend most of her time when Jared brings her to Puzzles.
"Did she just say 'pontificate'?" Jensen asks, turning his confused expression from Emma's retreating figure to Jared.
"Word of the day," Jared explains. "Six days in a row and she gets to stay up half an hour later watching TV. This is day two."
"Do you conduct your parenting entirely by making deals?
"It makes my job easier," Jared admits with a shrug. "And, plus, how cute is it when she uses big words like that? It's like an adult in a teeny tiny little body."
"You're weird," Jensen tells him.
Jared grins like he's never gotten a better compliment, then leans on the counter. "I'm serious about the chess, you know. As a paying customer, I demand more chess sets. So now you have to supply. That's how it works."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, indeed. I took some business classes." Jared pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. "I think. Maybe. I don't know, school is all a blur to me."
Jensen laughs. "Well, I took some business classes once upon a time, too, pal. You know what I learned?"
"What'd you learn?" Jared asks, putting an elbow on the counter and resting his chin on it, pretending to be deeply interested.
"I learned that it's important to know your customer," he says. Jared nods like this is exactly what he was trying to say, and Jensen can't help smirking. "You may be the one holding the wallet, but that kid," Jensen points down the next aisle where Emma is carefully examining each shelf, "rules with an iron fist. As long as I'm making her happy, I'm getting your money."
"Well, that's it," Jared says in a huff. "I'm taking my business elsewhere."
Jensen calls his bluff. "Toys 'R' Us. Right down the street. I can draw you a map if that'll help."
Jared laughs. "What, and be like all the cool kids? I don't think so."
Jensen kind of has to wonder why Jared does come here so often. The first time was a fluke, sure, the kid saw a toy store and wanted to come in. But Jensen's not charging bargain prices-he can't really, not with the quality of the toys he sells-and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that Jared's not exactly the kind of person who can afford to ignore good prices for convenience or fancy trimmings. Not that Jensen's complaining or anything. It's just weird, is all.
"No really," Jensen insists. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why the sudden brand loyalty?"
Jared bites his bottom lip and looks around to make sure Emma's distracted. "Look, I don't get to have a lot of adult fun, Jensen. I hardly ever see anyone over the age of eight except at PTA meetings, and I think the last time I went on a date was before I got married." Jared pauses, like he's considering something, and finally shrugs. "You're stupidly attractive and not entirely disagreeable all the time, so...it's kind of refreshing to have found a place where she can amuse herself and I can amuse myself at the same time."
"Well, that was straightforward."
Jared keeps his face trained on a smile, but Jensen sees him drawing back a little. "If I made you uncomfortable, we can-"
Jensen raises an eyebrow, pointing to the framed article hung just above his head. "Jared, that's the piece The New Yorker did on my dollhouses. Which I build. Because I am a guy who owns a toy store and specializes in doll accessories and likes finding new and exciting ways to decorate them. If I'm not gay, I'm pretty sure gay doesn't exist."
Jared lets out a relieved breath, somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Now you're just stereotyping," he says, looking up at Jensen with hair in his eyes.
"Honey, some stereotypes exist for a reason," Jensen says, faking a little flamboyancy for effect. "I'm pretty sure I'm one of them."
Jared's face lights up. "That's good to know."
"That's good to know?" Jensen echoes. "That's your response?"
"What should my response be?"
"You should let me take you out to dinner," Jensen says. "Saturday night, for example."
"She is with her mom this Saturday," Jared answers, clearly distracted as he mulls it over. He takes way too long, and for a moment Jensen thinks he's not going to say yes. Then he turns his attention back to Jensen. "Yeah. That sounds…I'd like that."
"You sound like you're agreeing to go to the dentist, man."
Jared laughs, ducking his head a little, but doesn’t say anything else on the matter.
_______________________________________________________________
"So," Jensen says, rounding a corner. Dinner was at an Italian joint a few blocks from Jared's place, and it went so well that Jared asked Jensen to walk him home, even though Jensen parked his car back by the restaurant. Jensen feels a little like he's in high school again, but he said yes anyway because he doesn't really want the night to end and, well, he's also hoping he's about to get lucky. What, at least he's honest. "You've been coming to my store for how many weeks now?"
"Six. And a half if you count the first time."
"Right," Jensen says. "And we've gone through this whole date and you still haven't told me what you do."
"Hah," Jared says, bringing his big hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "I guess I'm an unemployed trophy husband." Jensen stares blankly, so Jared continues, "That's what you call it, right? When you're a stay-at-home dad and your wife leaves you?"
Jensen chuckles, not sure if that's the right response, but Jared gives him a good, closed-lip smile, and they keep walking. "Still interested, now that you know I'm a loser?"
"You're raising a kid," Jensen points out. "That's more than I do."
Jared rolls his eyes and huffs, so Jensen stops, turning his body toward Jared's and taking his hand. "What? I'm serious."
"Yeah, but-"
Jensen leans in and kisses him, and Jared returns it for a few seconds before Jensen draws back, holding his face close enough to Jared's that he can keep his voice at a suggestive whisper. "Besides, you'd have to try pretty hard to lose my interest right now."
The hand Jared wraps around his neck is so big it's dizzying, giving Jensen all kinds of dirty thoughts, and before he knows it, Jared's tugging him in and kissing him hard. He tastes a little like meat sauce and the wine they've both been drinking, and Jensen licks in deeper to savor the flavors and the little noises Jared makes.
When they finally break the kiss, Jared keeps a hold on his hand, tugs him forward in the direction of his apartment. "Look I don't want to be too forward," he starts, and Jensen nearly laughs at the suggestion that he could be, "but do you wanna come up? For some wine?"
Jensen accepts, and within five minutes, he's sitting on Jared's big brown couch, looking around a cluttered but welcoming living room while Jared rummages in the kitchen. The room is packed with toys, some Jensen recognizes from his shop and some that must have come from somewhere else. The walls are covered in scribbles: a mix of construction paper projects Emma probably brought home from school and crayon figures about her height drawn directly onto the tan walls of the apartment. The coffee table is so covered in art supplies that Jensen starts moving things to make room for the wine glasses Jared's about to bring in.
"Obviously didn't straighten up," Jared is saying as he re-enters the living room. "Wish I had now. Sorry about the mess."
Jensen picks up what looks like a few folded scraps of paper, until he turns one over and is instead greeted by a moose in a party hat, waving up at him with one hand and holding a balloon that says "I moose wish you a happy birthday!" in the other. He laughs to himself as he sorts through about five cards, each with hand-drawn animals and related puns, and holds one up for Jared to see as he takes the empty spot on the couch. "What are these?"
"Oh god, how embarrassing," Jared says, setting a glass of dark red wine down in front of Jensen and taking a sip from his own. "Please just pretend you never saw them."
"No, come on!" Jensen insists. He can feel himself smiling so hard it hurts. "Did you make them?"
"Just something I do to stay busy when Emma and I are having art hour, you know? God they're terrible, I know that. I cannot believe of all the things you could have picked up-"
Jensen shuts him up with a kiss. "I think they're awesome."
"I have a whole box of them around here somewhere." Jared shakes his head. "They're fun, what can I say? My friends like them, at least."
"You ever thought about selling them?"
Jared takes the cards out of Jensen's hand and puts them on the coffee table. "In my crazier moments. But they're cheesy, I know that. It's just a hobby, I guess."
"Cheesy? Okay, yes, no doubt. But they're really charming." Jared tries to blow the compliment off, but Jensen insists, "Seriously, Jared, the people that shop at my store would go crazy for cute handmade cards like this. Half of my customers are buying last minute birthday presents anyway, I could probably make good business out of these."
Jared laughs. "You're really serious?"
"Yeah, absolutely," Jensen replies. "I'll make sure you get all the profits back."
"Oh, please. You can have the stupid cards, I've got more than I can give away. Piles just lying around here not doing me any good. Not that I actually think you'll be able to sell any, but you knock yourself out trying." Jared takes another sip of his wine and then another, as if he's trying to work up to something. Then he bites his bottom lip and looks pointedly at Jensen's. "Anyway, this is so not what we should be talking about."
Jensen can't really resist an invitation like that. "What should we be talking about, then?"
Jared leans in, closing the distance between them. "Shouldn't be talking at all," he replies, and before Jensen's ready for it, he's lying back on the couch, Jared on top of him, body positioned between his legs, and they're making out desperately.
After some long minutes of kissing and grinding together, Jared sits back on the couch, looking Jensen up and down with dark eyes. He grins and suddenly he's kneeling on the floor, moving Jensen so that he's sitting with his legs spread wide, and Jared's big hands move up and down his thighs.
"Listen, Jensen, I, uh," he licks his lips, "I haven't done this in a really long time, but," he looks up, his eyes meeting Jensen's and searching him out, "I'd really love to suck your cock."
"Jesus," Jensen replies, startled by how fast this is moving.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jared says, and he tries to pull away. "I knew I should hold back, I swear I'm not usually-"
"That was not a no," Jensen replies, reaching down to catch Jared with one hand buried in his hair, and he pushes Jared forward by the back of his head. "Do it."
Jared grins up with this giddy excitement…Jensen doesn't think he's that drunk, and he wonders if maybe he should have started dating sex-starved single dads years ago. He palms at Jensen's dick through his khakis for a few seconds, big warm hands making Jensen crazy and half-hard already, so he shifts his hips, trying to fit comfortably inside his pants.
He doesn't have to wait long for Jared to take the hint. He undoes Jensen's belt and works his cock out of his pants, hand stroking so good over Jensen's shaft as Jared gets him ready.
It's then, when Jensen is just about fully hard and Jared is pressing in, his mouth so close to the head of Jensen's dick that he can feel Jared's breath ghosting over him when he exhales, that the phone rings.
Immediately, Jared freezes, and Jensen wants to shout for him to ignore it, to finish what he started, but after about half a minute of Jared obviously torn as he tries to decide what to do here, the answering machine jumps in and makes the decision for him.
"Pick up the damn phone, Jared," a woman's voice says through the tinny receiver, and Jensen watches Jared slump in disappointment. He lets his head drop, resting against Jensen's thigh as they both listen in dismay to a few more seconds of the message. "Emma's throwing a fit. She was supposed to be in bed two hours ago, she hasn't stopped crying. She says she had a nightmare and she wants you to come pick her up. Look I have work to do, I don't have-"
By now, Jared's gotten up and answered the phone, sending Jensen an apologetic glance as he answers. "Hello?"
Jensen sighs, starting to tuck himself away. It's pretty clear that they're done here.
"I can’t do that," Jared says. "I'm in the middle of-no, Gen, it's your night. Two nights a week, that's all I'm asking for."
Jensen hears something, muffled through the other line that sounds a lot like, "Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"
"Figure it out!" Jared replies. "Read her a story, she likes-"
Whatever she responds with, it makes the fight all drain out of Jared. He sighs, the hand not holding the phone combing through his hair anxiously. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be there in twenty."
He hangs up and looks over at Jensen. "I am so sorry."
"Hey, comes with the territory, right?" Jensen shrugs, trying not to seem or sound as frustrated as he is, but it's obvious he doesn't pull it off, not completely, not from the face Jared gives him.
"It's just, my ex-wife. She's, uh. She's not great with kids. I mean, she's not a bad mom or anything. Usually they get along fine, but as soon as Emma gets anxious she gets anxious and they feed off each other and make it worse and I just-"
Jensen stands up and crosses the room, putting a hand on Jared's wrist. "Jared, seriously. It's fine. You don't have to explain. I get it."
"It's not fine," Jared says, looking at Jensen for a few seconds, and it seems like he's thinking about kissing Jensen again, but then he turns his head sharply to stare at the carpet instead. "It's anything but fine right now, and I wish I could tell her to suck it up, but I can't punish Emma like that. I have to go."
"I'll drive you."
"What?" Jared shakes his head. "No, come on. I think I've made your night miserable enough."
"I had a nice time," Jensen says, and when Jared tries to protest, Jensen plays dirty. "I've had a lot less to drink than you have. I'm good to drive, and you might be fine if it was just us, but do you really wanna take a chance with your daughter in the car?"
Jared thinks over that for all of a few seconds before he shakes his head again. "I'll call a cab. I couldn't possibly-"
"I'm offering," says Jensen.
"We won't be able to…do anything when we get back. I mean, I'll have to put her to bed and that'll be a whole-"
"I'm not that sleazy, Jared," Jensen cuts in. "I can give you a ride without expecting-"
"That's not what I meant. God, fuck, I just keep screwing up." He runs both his hands through his hair, and Jensen thinks it's totally unfair that the mix of concerned responsibility in his expression and the silly little boy hair sticking out in every direction only makes him more attractive. "I feel terrible."
"C'mon," Jensen says, completely ignoring Jared's protests. "My car's still at the restaurant, so we better get walking."
Jared finally closes his mouth and gives a petulant nod, allowing Jensen to lead him out. The walk is faster this time, no stopping to kiss, no hand-holding stroll. Jared gives him directions once they're both in the car, and Jensen channels his frustration into driving, which has always been a way he lets off steam.
"How did you guys end up with a kid if she doesn't like them?" Jensen asks, not realizing until it's out that he sounds nasty, like he's every bit as annoyed at Jared's ex as he maybe kind of is.
"I think it was mostly my fault," Jared admits. He's sitting with his head pushed back against the headrest, throat exposed in a way Jensen's definitely going to go home and obsess over, and his eyes are closed. Jensen thinks he's probably trying to sober up before they get to where they're going.
"We were really great together when we were young and everything was easy. And then I wanted a kid and Gen wanted to work and I think between me insisting and our parents always asking she felt like she had to a little bit. I'm sure she really convinced herself she wanted a baby by the time we finally got pregnant, I know I'd convinced myself it was what we both wanted. But at the end of the day it wasn't."
"That why you guys…?" Jensen lets the question linger, not wanting to finish it. He's pretty sure he doesn't have the right to ask any of this on a first date, but, well. He feels pretty smack in the middle of it right about now.
"Yeah, a little." Jared shrugs. "She's a bit of a workaholic. Brilliant at what she does-she's a lawyer, so it was always kind of hot, how intimidatingly good she is at her job. But I needed more attention than she could give-Emma too, obviously-and it all just got sour."
"Ah," Jensen says, like he gets it when really all he gets is that Jared maybe shouldn't have been married in the first place.
As if he's reading Jensen's mind, Jared lifts his head from where it's been resting, says, "We're very different people. Probably never made much sense together. But, hey, when you're 23 and in love…"
Jensen lets out an amused huff under his breath. He can definitely recall some questionable calls he made at that age because it was for the truest of true loves-the kind that lasts a whole six months if you're lucky, and then you wake up one day and realize the guy you took for prince charming is a mouth breather with mommy issues. "I hear ya."
Jared points left, to a huge, intimidating apartment complex. "This is it."
Jensen whistles. "She's not doing too bad for herself, huh?"
It's a sharp contrast from the place Jared's living-not that his apartment isn't nice in its hominess, but it's a cardboard box compared to the building they're pulling into now. Jensen almost asks, but before he can, Jared's getting out of the car.
"Yeah, I know," Jared says, a little like Jensen hit a nerve. "Emma and I moved out as soon as the divorce was finalized. I never really felt at home here."
"What's not to feel at home about?" Jensen jokes, even as Jared's leading him through the overwrought lobby, giving an awkward wave to the concierge. "Plastic flower arrangements the size of Wisconsin not your scene?"
Jared snorts as he holds some shiny leaves back before they get a chance to smack Jensen in the face, and then they're stepping into a silver elevator, mirrors on all sides.
"She's on the 8th floor," Jared says, just to say something, as he presses the button. Jensen nods, and then silence settles between them, thick and awkward. He's trying not to think about how weird this all is when the elevator dings and Jared gets out, leading him down a hall.
When he finally stops in front of door 819 and knocks, it opens so fast Jensen has to wonder if someone's been waiting on the other side. A very pretty but frazzled brunette is standing at the threshold, and Jensen can hear Emma screaming in the background.
"Thank god you're here," she says. "She hasn't stopped crying in-"
She goes quiet as soon as her eyes land on Jensen, her face coloring a little. "Shit, I didn't realize you were-"
"Save it, Gen," Jared replies, pushing past her and disappearing into the apartment. Which leaves Jensen alone with the ex.
"Uh," she says, at least having the decency to look sorry. "Do you want to come in?"
"Think I better not," Jensen says.
Gen nods. They stand in painful silence for a few seconds before she gives him a lopsided smile. "Jared's a great guy! Not that-you probably already knew that. But, uh, I mean, you should date him! Again. For a whole date. That I will not ruin. You're probably not looking for a recommendation from me. I should shut up. I'll shut up."
Jensen kind of snorts, but he's smiling at her when Jared reappears, Emma on one arm, resting her head on his shoulder, half-asleep already, and a huge bag slung over his other shoulder.
"Jesus, how do you do that?" Gen asks.
"Say goodnight to Mommy, Emma," Jared says, ignoring his ex entirely.
Emma blinks her eyes open and smiles at her mom. "Night, Mommy. I love you."
Gen steps forward and pushes the brown curls spilling over Jared's shoulder away before pressing a kiss to Emma's forehead. "Love you too, baby. Mommy's gonna miss you. Be good for Daddy, okay?"
Emma nods and then she rests her head on Jared's shoulder again, apparently about to go to sleep when she sees Jensen. "Aren't you the man from the toy store?"
Jensen nods, feeling his cheeks burn.
"Do I get a present?"
He shakes his head as Jared starts walking.
"Jensen is a friend, Emma," Jared explains. "He didn't bring you a toy, he came to say hello."
"Okay," she says, sounding only a little disappointed. "I like friends more than toys, anyway." She yawns before adding, "Sometimes."
He hears one last laugh from Gen and then the sound of the door clicking shut.
By the time they get to the car and Jared straps Emma into the backseat, she's out cold, so they stay quiet for the ride back to Jared's place. Jensen sticks around to help carry her stuff upstairs and watches Jared tuck his daughter into bed from the door of her room.
He looks exhausted by the time he finally turns to Jensen and gestures for Jensen to go ahead into the living room. Jensen waits in the hallway for Jared to shut the door to Emma's room before he says, "I guess I should go."
"Yeah," Jared agrees, fingers still on the door handle, aiming his words down at his feet. "Listen, Jensen, I'm so sorry that-"
"I told you, man, I get it." Jensen angles Jared's chin up so their eyes meet, and he makes himself smile. "I'll let you buy me dinner next time to make up for it?"
Jared's eyes are still evasive. "Right. Next time."
He wasn't born yesterday; Jensen knows a rejection when he hears one. "Or not?"
"I wasn't going to apologize that this happened. I was going to apologize for agreeing to go out with you in the first place. I shouldn't have said yes when you asked last week," he says, finally looking up. "It was selfish of me."
Jensen shakes his head, rounding the couch before sitting down and looking up at Jared behind him. "You didn't know."
"I knew something like this would happen. Something like this always happens." Jared sighs as he takes the empty space next to Jensen and he sends a sorry look to the wineglasses still sitting on the coffee table. "I just wanted you so much. But I shouldn't have dragged you in."
"Okay, but this doesn't mean that-"
Jared licks his lips, and it's fucking cruel that his mouth looks so pink and shiny and biteable when Jensen knows Jared is trying to tell him that's never going to happen again. "You're a great guy, Jensen."
"Oh, lovely," Jensen says with a forced laugh. "I've heard that one before."
"No, seriously. You're a great guy. I'd be lucky to have you, anyone would. Hell, I wish I'd met you ten years ago-or, no, maybe like six years from now when Emma's old enough to be on her own a little. But for now, she needs me pretty much all the time and she's my priority. And you-you deserve better than to be with someone who can never put you first. It's not fair to you."
"Jared, I would never expect you to put me before your daughter."
"I know that," Jared says. "But really think about it. All our dates are gonna end like this. Every time we go anywhere, she's going to be there. I'm not about to ask you to commit to being her dad, but I can’t just bring people into her life and then have them drop out when we break up. You don't want to be a part of something like that overnight. Maybe Gen interrupting when she did was a good thing in the long run."
Jensen nods-grudgingly, because he was the one two seconds from a blowjob when the phone rang-but he nods. As much as he likes Jared and as charming as Emma is, he isn't ready to be part of someone's family. He hadn't really been thinking of where their relationship would go when he started this date. He's pretty sure he and Jared had both been thinking with their dicks and nothing else. But Jared's got a responsibility to his daughter, and Jensen's not ready to make the sacrifices that being with him would require.
He stands. "I should go."
Jared nods. "I'll clean up, you just-"
"Jared," Jensen interrupts. "We can still be friends, right? I mean, you guys are welcome to come by the store whenever you want."
The smile Jared gives him is a mix of surprised and relieved, and Jensen sees his pretty, pretty dimples and thinks, probably, he's just shot himself in the foot. "I'd love to be friends."
Jensen gives Jared a wicked smile. "Then, as your friend, I'm taking a consolation prize."
Jared's eyebrows knit together in confusion until he sees Jensen putting the lid on a paper box full of Jared's dopey hand-drawn cards, and then he starts laughing so hard he has to cover his mouth so he doesn't wake Emma.
"Good riddance to you both," Jared says when he waves Jensen and his box of cards out the door.
_______________________________________________________________
West Collins is attacking his calves with a bright blue plastic shovel. The sandbox had been too full of other kids to play in, and apparently this was the next best use for the tool.
"Can you please tell your spawn to stop beating me with the toy I bought him?" Jensen says, trying to wave West away, but the kid is too fast for him. Maybe he's getting old.
"West, why are you hurting Uncle Jensen?" Misha asks.
"I'm tenderizing him!" West announces, beginning the routine on Jensen's left leg. Apparently the right has been satisfactorily softened by now.
"He's very into cooking lately," Misha explains, giving Jensen an apologetic look. "If I asked him to stop, it would be limiting his creative expression."
"I see," Jensen says. He waits until West looks truly distracted, then sweeps down and grabs the little terror, propping him on his shoulders. "You want ice cream?"
West throws his shovel down and yells enthusiastically.
"No ice cream if you don't stop tenderizing Uncle Jensen."
"Deal," West says. "Can I be a pilot instead?"
Jensen laughs and before too long, West is making airplane noises, steering Jensen with little tugs left and right on his ears. It's a sign of just how much he's had to put up with over the last four years that by now he's pretty much able to ignore the melee going on over his shoulders entirely.
"And then he said we could still be friends," Jensen says, continuing the conversation he and Misha had been having five minutes ago as if it was never interrupted by shovels or flying toddlers. "So that's where that stands."
"What a jerk," Misha says, ever the supportive friend.
Jensen sighs. "He isn't a jerk, though. He's awesome. That's kind of why it sucks so much, you know? I had a great time up until everything blew up."
"Well, why don’t you guys just go out again?" Misha points at his son. "It's not like you aren't great with kids. I don't see why trying to make it work isn't an option."
"Because it's one thing to babysit or hang out with my best friend's kid and something completely different to date someone who can never give me any of his time."
"Right, I guess," Misha says. "But I still say-"
"I'm tired of being a pilot now," West announces. Jensen places West on the grass and he takes one of his dad's hands and one of Jensen's. "When I count to three, pick me up and swing me."
"Alright, buddy," Jensen says. He turns to look at Misha. "This kid is exhausting."
"I never noticed," Misha replies, in that way he has-after all the years they've been friends, Jensen still can't tell if it's incredibly earnest or incredibly sarcastic.
"One, two, three," West counts, and then he's swinging a few steps forward, letting out a happy, "whee!"
"Jensen?"
Jensen stops instantly and looks up from West to see Jared standing a few feet away, holding Emma by one hand and staring.
"Jared," he replies.
"Well, you sure have a type," Jared says, more than a little bitchy, looking from Misha to West and back to Jensen.
Jensen lets out a nervous laugh when he realizes what Jared thinks is going on. "What? No-God, no. This is my friend from college, Misha. We're not-I mean-Jesus, no."
"Thanks, Jensen," Misha grumbles. "My wife happens to think I'm quite a catch. Or at least that's what she tells me."
"Sorry," Jared replies, his cheeks coloring. "I shouldn't have said that. I mean, even if you were-"
"You said your name was Jared?" Misha says, interrupting what's quickly turning into a very awkward moment for everyone involved. "Then this little lady must be Emma."
"I most certainly am," Emma says with a curtsy.
"She's pretty," West says.
Misha laughs, picking his son up. "And this charmer here is Jensen's godson, West Collins, evil overlord of Australia and the Netherlands. Or at least that's what he was yesterday."
"Today I'm a chef pilot," West reminds his dad. "And maybe a wizard."
"Right, yes, of course. How could I forget?" Misha turns his attention back to Jared and pastes on a big smile. "Jensen's great with kids and very responsible. Isn't Uncle Jensen great, West?"
"The best," West agrees. "Can I have my ice cream now?"
Misha stage whispers, "You can have two Freezey Pops after you tell the nice man about how much you love Uncle Jensen."
"Uncle Jensen is my favorite uncle," West says obediently. "Much less smelly than Uncle Steve."
"Overselling it!" Jensen shoves Misha in the side and ruffles West's hair.
Jared laughs, ducking his head so all Jensen can see are the bangs in his eyes and his dimpled grin. "Not that I would doubt it for a second."
"I was just about to swing by that there ice cream truck for some low-fat refreshments," Misha says, pointing at the truck so that Jared can see that it's near enough to keep an eye on. "Perhaps Emma would like to join us?"
Jared glances in Jensen's direction and Jensen gives him a small smile and a subtle nod, understanding that Jared's trying to make sure this guy is safe to trust with his kid, even if only for a few minutes.
"How about it, Emma?" Jared gets down on one knee in front of his daughter. "You want some ice cream?"
"Do I want ice cream?" Emma replies, shaking her head sadly. She grabs her doll out of her dad's hands and marches toward Misha and West. "The things he asks me sometimes."
"Can I play with your doll?" West asks as Emma joins him and they begin to walk off toward the truck.
"Her name is Rosie," Emma explains, handing Rosie to West. "My mommy got her for me for Christmas. She pees when I give her her bottle."
West laughs like that's the best thing he's ever heard, and Misha sends Jensen and Jared a wry look before following the kids.
Once they're suitably alone, Jensen turns to Jared. "So..."
"So," Jared replies. He shakes some hair out of his face and gives Jensen a weak smile. "Already telling all your friends what a disaster our date was?"
Jensen laughs. "Hardly put it in those words. But we grown-ups do talk."
"How have you been?" Jared asks.
Jensen tries to look playful, but he's willing to bet he's not very convincing. "Honestly? Missed my favorite customers on Friday."
Jared looks down at his hands. "I figured you wouldn't want to see me after-"
"I thought we agreed to be friends?"
With a laugh, Jared finally looks up and meets Jensen's eyes. "I kind of thought you were just saying that to be polite."
"I wasn't." Jensen rubs his hands together and then shoves them in his pockets. "It wasn't that bad a date, Jared."
"You met my ex-wife and went home with blue balls," Jared replies, raising an eyebrow.
Jensen can't help laughing at that. "She gave you a great recommendation, though! Five out of five stars."
"Oh god, she would." Jared looks back out at the ice cream truck. "I'm not being entirely honest. I needed some time to, uh, get over myself, I guess. That was embarrassing and…you…you took it well. I kind of wish you'd been pissed. Would have been easier to get over if you had."
"Were you ever planning to show your face in my store again?"
Jared shrugs. "I honestly don't know. I let myself think I could have something just for me. Haven't done that in years. And then I blew it. I needed some time to mope."
"You finished moping yet?" Jensen asks. He follows Jared's sightline and sees Misha approaching, West and Emma a few steps ahead, each holding an ice cream in one hand and one of Rosie's little plastic arms in the other.
Jared nods.
"Good," Jensen says, nodding his head at the kids. "Because I have a feeling we're being set up on a playdate whether we want it or not."
Laughing, Jared turns to Jensen. "I hope she doesn't think younger children work the same as puppies and kittens. Listen, if she tries to adopt him and it looks like I'm about to give in to the begging, please intervene."
"Don't worry," Jensen tells him. "For whatever reason, I'm pretty sure Misha enjoys having that little rascal around. Plus, his wife calls all the shots. He won't let someone carry their kid off without her permission."
"What a relief," Jared jokes, checking Jensen's shoulder with his own.
They spend four hours at the park, mostly playing with the kids, and when Jared and Emma go their separate ways in the parking lot, Jared casually says he'll see Jensen next week. Jensen can't help smiling at that, waving as he watches Jared get into his car.
"Oh yeah," Misha says, stopping next to Jensen and looking from Jared's car to Jensen. "You're just interested in his friendship."
"What?" Jensen says, turning to look at his friend.
Misha shakes his head. "The dopey grin. The nervous giggling. The thing you do where you pull away really fast every time you guys bump into each other."
"He was it!" Jensen insists. "I was trying not to get caught."
"I don't know, Uncle Jensen. You let him catch you lots of times."
Jensen scowls at a four year old, which is probably his version of rock bottom. "Where do your toys come from, West?"
"I take it back," West says.
"You are smitten, my friend. You are smitten, and this can only end one way."
"Disaster?" Jensen asks. Then he shakes his head. "I am not smitten! It was one date."
"Marriage and babies," Misha says. "A life doomed by marital bliss. It's not all bad, mind you. Just look at me!"
Thankfully, West interrupts his father's teasing. "Emma was pretty. Can I marry her?"
"Maybe when you're older," Misha says. "If you do your chores when you're old enough to have any. Right now we have Uncle Jensen's wedding to worry about first."
"Stop it, okay?" Jensen feels a little like he's pouting, but oh well. "I'm not pretending I don't have a big stupid crush on the guy. He's the one that called things off, so just…let it go, alright?"
"Oh please," West says, tugging Jensen's jeans until Jensen bends down to pick him up. "He was even more obvious than you were, Uncle Jensen."
Jensen sighs as Misha begins to sing the Wedding March and West joins in cheerfully.
ON TO PART TWO