Open Heart Dentistry // chapter 2
“How much?” Jensen asks when he sees Chris leaning against his beat-up truck on the opposite side of the street.
“Not even your father can raise enough cash for me to bother with your ugly ass.”
“My ass is perky,” Jensen growls, shrugging the other man’s hand off his shoulder.
“And ain’t this one of the most heterosexual things you’ve ever said to me?”
Jensen shoots his best - his only - friend a murderous look. “I don’t like you.”
“You don’t like anybody. That’s why your Dad had to pay me to be your friend in the first place though you really should get over this. We were ten.”
“You were eleven, I was seven.”
“Wouldn’t want to get those vital details wrong, would we?”
“The age difference is creepy.”
“Yeah, especially now we’re in our thirties…
Jensen scowls. “Why are you still here?”
“Charity.”
“Fuck you.”
“Awww, I love you too, Jenny.”
“Don’t--“
“Call me Jenny. Yeah, yeah. Wouldn’t have that nick so fresh in my mind if it hadn’t been your father who called to tell me you’re back. For over a month.” Chris stares at Jensen sternly.
Shrugging, Jensen mumbles “busy” and starts walking. Chris doesn’t bother pointing out that taking up the phone or writing an e-mail can’t be that hard, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good anyway. It’s Jensen. Love it or leave it. Or be too damn good-natured to just forget about the damn hermit, whatever.
“Your father booked us a table at Ruby’s, said they have these awesome new desserts.”
Jensen stops walking and turns around to look at Chris, flabbergasted. “My dad still pays?”
Chris laughs wholeheartedly and pats Jensen’s back, thereby shoving him in the right direction. “No, dumbass, you do!”
Not only does Jensen sponsor Chris’ love handles, he’s also distracted by his own thoughts on how the hell it could happen that he didn’t find a suitable excuse to not spend his evening at Jared Padalecki’s workplace. Squinting at the area where the waitresses disappear empty-handed and return with plates full of the most delicious food in the city, he slowly begins to understand how Jared must feel in his office - albeit for slightly different reasons.
“So is there somebody?” Chris asks, bringing Jensen back to the conversation at hand.
“Huh?”
“You don’t honestly want to tell me you came back because of your knee? Always thought you’d practice even if you’d lose both legs, being the heroic, manly son of a gun you insist on being,” he smirks crookedly. “So, is there somebody? A woman?”
It’s the pronunciation that pisses Jensen off, the way Chris and his whole family twist and turn the word “woman”, like it’s a bad joke they’ve all heard much too often but are too polite to call him on. That his hippie family obviously is perfectly fine with guys banging guys doesn’t mean he has to be, goddammit. After all, who should know better that it really isn’t the fluffy, stylish hipster stuff or white-picket-fence rainbow families with 1.2 kids and a Golden Retriever his family thinks it is.
It’s a fucking burden. It’s being called Jenny and stuffed into trash cans for being too pretty or loving the wrong toys. (Once! And it was just because he wanted to dress Ken in proper army gear after his uncle had laughed about the doll’s elegant evening outfit. Not his fault Mattel sucks and he had to sew it himself. It’s not like you can call for your tailor out in the desert, fighting off enemies while, oh yes, sewing the gashes in a soldier’s face).
It’s being laughed at and beaten up for. It’s derisive jokes and something that just doesn’t fit in Jensen’s image of himself and his canon of values. He knows who he is and he’s over lying to himself about how, one day, he’ll magically change but that doesn’t mean he has to be a flaming queen. Or admit it to his mum and risk her telling him in detail about this Willow girl she shared a room with in college. Allegedly, they liked calling themselves like the local flora and fauna and experimented a lot.
“Can’t serve with a busted knee,” Jensen growls, hoping Chris gets it and stops asking. The other man shakes his head.
“Sure.”
The rest of the dinner is spent with Chris talking about his invidious day job and his beloved band, his and his best buddy Steve last tour, and the names of about a dozen women Jensen was lucky enough not to meet and pretend he didn’t know that they would be history the moment the rubber’s flushed.
All in all, it’s surprisingly nice, comfortable even. As much as Jensen mostly wishes that people would lose his number, he still finds it secretly enjoyable to have Chris around - if it doesn’t happen too often.
Until the looming shadow of the evening appears, that is, and Jensen’s heart misses a beat. Jensen starts to feel mortified before he even has an idea why he should.
“Hey Jensen, nice to see you,” Jared says when he places Jensen’s dessert in front of him (a variation of low fat cheese specialities), telling their surprised waitress a friendly “I’ve got this”. He asks “did you recover from our drinking spree ‘cause man, my head didn’t stop aching for two days straight.”
Chris looks at Jared, dumbfounded, then at Jensen, mouth slightly agape.
“You made a friend?” It’s exactly the same pronunciation he uses for “woman” and Jensen blushes furiously. “Like, in a friend?”
Ah, yes, that’s why.
“Hi, I’m Jared,” Jared says and shakes Chris hand, beaming his usual bright smile.
“Are you real?” Chris asks, and then, directed at Jensen, “is he real?”
Before Chris can ask Jared for his hourly fee, Jensen interrupts him. “He’s my patient. Worst teeth I’ve seen in years. It’s like the definition of decay in there.”
“Thanks, friend,” Jared deadpans, shooting Jensen a hurt look before he awkwardly smiles at Chris again.
“You go drinking with your patients now?” Chris asks Jensen, fork still hanging mid-air where it stopped its way down into Chris’ strawberry tart when Jared showed up.
“No!”
“He totally does,” Jared says. “Has to, to appease us otherwise we’d probably all sue him for mental cruelty.”
“That’s my boy,” Chris sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically.
Jared laughs loudly. “You’ve known Dr. Ackles here for a while?”
“Neighbors when we were kids, though I tend to call him Jenny instead of Dr. Ackles.”
“I’d do, too, but he has a whole room of electrical drills and he’s not afraid to use them. All of them. On me. It’s not pretty.” Jared bites his cheek and starts looking a little pale. It’s the attack of those ridiculous big damp eyes again. Guy’s definitely too old and beefy to pull that off but there Chris’ resistance goes.
Turning around and pointing a finger at Jensen, he scolds. “Don’t you hurt him, you hear me?”
Jensen huffs. His father really should have found another kid in dire need of extra pocket money.
Jared smiles grows bigger. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”
Jensen scoffs and jumps up. “I gotta work.”
“It’s 9 a.m.,” Chris says, voice soothing as if he’d calm a skittish animal. “Sit down and order one of those heaven-like desserts, not just cheese. They are fabulous, half my friends already orgasmed over them.”
“Thanks,” Jared smiles, dimples full on showing and Jensen mumbles “oh get a room you two” before he slumps down in his seat again, lower lip sticking out in what Chris and his mum would call an adorable sulky pout but is totally not.
Jared and Chris don’t get a room (and won't, ever). Jared goes back to work, and sends Jensen a white chocolate dessert shaped like a tooth and saying “most handsome dentist eva” in bloody red raspberry sauce. If Jensen enjoys the enamel killer a tiny bit? It’s pure civility and nothing else. Also, he is not flattered or touched.
He is not.
Jensen’s index finger’s been on-and-off hovering over the keypad for hours when the mobile suddenly rings, startling Jensen so much he nearly drops the phone as well as his beer, hoping he didn’t accidentally, actually, call Jared.
“So this woman…,” Chris cackles before he even says “hello”.
“I’m not talking to you,” Jensen growls and hangs up.
“Don’t be an ass. I’ve got time 2 waste & if you don’t talk 2 me on the phone you know I’ll show up +I’ll bring Steve”
Great. Text threats. Jensen sighs and takes the next call.
“He called you the most handsome dentist ever. On a dessert. What more do you need, moron?”
“I've no idea what you’re talking ‘bout,” Jensen huffs.
“You like him. A blind man can see it. You rambled all the way back from the restaurant about how he’s the worst pussy known to mankind. Haven’t heard you talk that much in a row in years. Actually, never. Plus, he flirts with you, despite your charming self.”
“See? I told you he’s a pussy. I hate pussies!”
“You hate pussy. That’s a difference. Nah - save it, Ackles. I’ve seen you starring at Tom’s ass back in high school much too often to take that crap from you anymore. Bad enough you still lie to your momma. Besides, how he’s a pussy was only the first part - the rest of the way was all about how he’s so tall and strong and handsome and funny and an overall good guy. You rhapsodized like a twelve year old teenage girl. Well, with lots more swearing and your trademark serving of misanthropy but still. Call him.”
“I pointed out how ridiculous it is that a man that size acts like a frightened mouse.” Jensen pauses, then, much softer he says. “He hates me.”
Chris swallows the spontaneous “awww” that wants to worm its way out of his mouth when he hears the meek objection, sure that Jensen’s exactly as miserable as he sounds but probably doesn’t even realize it himself.
“Bull.”
“I hate him.”
“I bet you do. Now call him.”
“He’s my patient. I just can’t ask my patients to have a drink with me.”
“You’ve already drank yourself stupid with him once. There are probably a thousand things he could sue you for but for asking him out? I don’t think so.”
“It’s unethical.”
“Again: bull.”
“….”
“What? You’re running out of crappy excuses? Okay, Ackles, I’ll make this easy for you. We’ve got a gig next Saturday. You show up with him - good for you. But if you don’t? I’ll tell your parents. Your mom will have a field day to set you up with him. So if you don’t want to find Padalecki at your next family dinner without inviting him first you better get your grouchy ass in gear.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” Jensen tries to sound menacing, but there’s an obvious crack in his armour, panic seeping through.
“Try me, asshat.”
“He probably has to work on Saturday. Maybe he’s got a date. You can’t do this!”
“It’s a cruel, cruel world. See you Saturday!”
The next eight times, it’s Chris who doesn’t pick up his phone.
Jensen eyes are closed as he follows the dandelion’s seed heads slow dance into the sun, white swallowed by white, merging, until he gets dizzy, the warmth on his face slowly luring him to a place between wakefulness and sleep. It smells like his grandma’s semolina pudding, warm milk and cinnamon. Blades of grass tickle his calves.
Suddenly, Jared’s booming voice cuts into the peaceful silence, closely followed by a shushing whisper. Jensen crunches his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to leave.
It’s no good. A soft voice calls him back slowly, tentatively, like a lifeline spun from clouds. Jensen tries to resist but it inevitably lures him back, leaving him disorientated for a second.
When he opens his eyes, he sees two smiling faces looming over him, though Jared’s can’t hide a hint of fear behind the façade.
“Welcome back, boss,” Misha smiles and pets his upper arm, which should annoy Jensen but, strangely, doesn’t. Maybe it’s the drowsiness, maybe it’s the feeling of Jared towering over him which sends a whole different set of feelings throughout his body, making a part deep inside him unwilling to move.
“You have to be calmed down before you check on my tooth? Should I be concerned?” Jared asks, the slightly higher tell-tale quality of his voice foreboding one of his trademark panic attacks.
“No,” Misha soothes Jared, “it’s a routine check. Dr. Ackles was just a little wired, so I used the chance to show him the wonders of hypnosis.”
“Did it work?” Jared asks tentatively. “I know you are awesome, Misha, but it’s…um… him.” He nods towards Jensen.
“He hasn’t intimidated anybody for the last 45 minutes.”
“Wow,” Jared raises his eye brows appreciatively, ignoring Jensen. “Guess that’s a first.”
Misha nods. He doesn’t hide how very pleased he is with himself.
“Hey, I’m right here,” Jensen growls and gets up, shoving Misha aside to emphasize his point.
“Lay down,” he orders Jared as he reaches for his gloves, finally back in command mode, all but forcefully shoving the big man onto the chair. The faster he starts practicing, the faster the other two men will shut up.
Jared starts whimpering pathetically the moment the handheld mirror enters his mouth.
“Dude, it’s a mirror,” Jensen says, exasperated, and waves the thing in front of Jared’s eyes. What do you think I’ll do with it? Watch your teeth holey?”
Looking sheepishly, Jared softly mumbles. “Yeah, fine”, which earns him a short biceps rub from Misha. An ugly stab of jealousy flares in Jensen’s gut and he shoots his assistant an angry glare.
Misha smiles and winks at Jensen, the assbutt.
The next time the mirror comes close, Jared twitches so hard the water glass tumbles down and into the sink.
“It’s a mirror!”, Jensen shouts and throws his arms into the air, all the mental calmness suddenly gone.
“It’s Saturday night!” Jared yells back, sitting up and starring wildly at Jensen. “Don’t tell me that ‘it’s just a routine check’ crap when you call me in on a fucking Saturday night! That’s like… like going into a slasher movie and expecting a rom com. Did you, did you--” he swallows audibly and turns the same shade of white he did before he fainted, “is there still a needle in my tooth?”
“Nonsense,” Jensen answers, feeling himself blush and therefore averting his eyes.
Misha bites his tongue to prevent himself from grinning but fails miserably.
“Oh my fucking God,” yells Jared, “that’s it, you forgot a needle inside my tooth! I’ve been walking around with… ohGodOhGodOhGod-“
“I want to go out with you!” The words are out of Jensen’s mouth before he can stop himself and when they are, Jensen turns a shade of burgundy not even a high-end monitor could display in all its luminous glory.
“Uh… what?” Jared breaths as he starts and stops hyperventilating.
Misha cackles softly.
“No needle,” Jensen repeats meekly, “just me making a complete fool of myself trying to ask you out tonight. And thank you very much for the most humiliating moment of my life.”
“You diss me for humiliating you while you nearly gave me a heart-attack ‘cause you are too much of a coward to ask me out for a drink? After our night out I thought we were on our way becoming friends.”
Jensen shrugs, starring at a lint on the otherwise immaculate floor.
Misha coughs slightly and excuses himself. When the door closes, they hear him laugh. Jensen doesn’t think that any court would convict him for shooting the bloody bastard right the fuck now.
“I’m sorry?” Jensen asks, hardly looking at Jared from under long lashes.
“You are a jerk.”
“Guess I am,” Jensen admits ruefully, fiddling with the mirror in his hand.
Seconds of silence stretch into a felt eternity.
“So, uh, will you? Have a drink with me, that is? Chris’ band plays a gig at The Cube tonight and he kind of blackmailed me to bring you, so…”
“So you tortured me though you don’t even want me there?” Jared laughs bitterly and tears off the dental bib. “You really are a piece of work.”
“You’re getting this all wrong.”
“I’m sure I do,” Jared huffs sarcastically and leaves but not before shooting Jensen a disdainful look.
Four beers in and Jensen still feels like crap. Waving at the barkeeper to get him another one, Jensen casts a tired glance at the stage where Chris just finished the last encore and disappears behind the stage. The music following the live gig’s too loud, it’s far too hot in the club and Jensen’s already had more body contact since he’s fought his way to the bar then he had planned for the next five years. All just to prevent Chris from instigating Jensen’s mother to play matchmaker.
Agreeing with himself that his life sucks, Jensen’s gaze is drawn to the entrance where he sees Jared entering the door. He runs directly into Chris and Steve making their way to the bar. They say hello enthusiastically, shaking hands and patting each other shoulders. Jensen rolls his eyes and orders a shot.
Chris introduces Steve and then Jensen sees the woman standing next to Jared, holding his hand. The singer smiles politely at the petite brunette, but for a brief flicker of time, there’s something else in his eyes. Pity, Jensen thinks. Then his already upset stomach does another turn, realizing that it’s for him when his eyes meet Chris’.
Oh.
Make that shot shots.
Glowing with a hazy kind of shame, Jensen downs his first hard drink and instantly orders the next.
“He’s too chickenshit for you anyway,” Chris yells over Jensen shoulder into the other man’s ear five minutes later.
“Don’t care,” Jensen yells back, hoping that the noise will swallow the disappointment in his voice.
“Did you tell him you’d be here?”
“Yep.”
“Asshole,” Chris yells, downing half his beer in one go. “Want me to pinch his girlfriend?”
Jensen knows he means it and shoots Chris a grateful smile. “Nah, not her fault she’s got no taste in men.”
“Poor girl,” Chris agrees and gets a wistful look. “Sure I shouldn’t save her from him?”
“Chris,” Jensen calls his best friend to order.
“Fine. So we’ll just hang onto the classics and get fucking plastered together.”
Sometimes, Jensen thinks, friends aren’t that bad.
Despite initially wanting to leave the moment he saw the girl at Jared’s side (and ignoring them stoically as they danced, flirted and kissed on the dance floor), Jensen stays until most of the other guests are gone, drinking with Chris’ band and friends until there’s a second version of each of them.
Leaning against the bar, Jensen waits for the bartender to stop cleaning up and giving him a desperately needed bottle of water, when a very cheerful and terrifyingly sober Padalecki lets himself on the bar stool next to Jensen.
“Damn, you look horrible,” he yells into Jensen’s ear as if it was extremely amusing to him.
“And you called me a sadistic asshole, asshole.” Jensen mumbles, lifting both his forearms from the bar to turn away from the other man and nearly loses balance when he can’t brace himself anymore. Being angry died a horrible death drowning in a sea of booze hours ago and was soon replaced by self-pity. Somewhere along the way, without Jensen even realizing it, he even forgot the pathetic whining and squirrelly squeaks and all Jensen deliberately not watched the whole evening was the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.
“Come again?” Jared asks and grips Jensen’s upper arm to steady the swaying man.
Shrugging him off, Jensen leans his back against the bar. “What?”
“What did you just say?”
Jensen glares at him defensively. “None of your business. Not like you should be here anyway.”
Jared laughs, pretending to be all innocent. “Dude, you invited me, remember?”
“Yeah, but not-“ your girlfriend, Jensen bites his tongue before he can say it out loud. “Ouch!”
Jared laughs as if he’s having the time of his life. Hell, he probably has. “Tell me you just didn’t literally bite your tongue.”
Jensen scowls and tries to swallow the coppery tang of his own blood without retching. He won’t dignify that with an answer.
“You need a ride home?” Jared asks instead of prodding, Jensen’s grimace probably telling him all he needs to know, and Jensen nearly chokes on his own spit.
“You’re kidding, right?” he asks incredulously. After everything the douche put him through tonight, he can’t seriously think Jensen would let him pretend everything was all kittens and roses, right?
But all Jared does is shrug, and says “it’s not a big detour and you don’t exactly look like even taking a taxi would be a safe thing for you right now.”
“Will go home with Chris,” Jensen slurs, annoyed to be treated like a kid or a, well, a drunk. Jared smiles, that dimpled smile that makes Jensen simultaneously weak and hard in all the wrong places and gestures towards his girl who’s waiting by the door, already dressed in her coat and scarf.
“Good. So, see you next week for the next treatment.”
Jensen wants to growl as his affirmative answer, all of a sudden remembering Padalecki’s less attractive traits. But before he can dismiss the big yellow-belly, he suddenly feels closed dry lips pressing against his own slightly open mouth.
It’s over seconds before Jensen alcohol-challenged brain can process what’s just happened and by the time he’s ready to protest (or roll over, whatever) Jared’s long gone.
“I think we kissed,” Jensen tells Chris who’s suddenly, out of nowhere, standing next to Jensen.
“Who? You and Jared?”
Jensen nods, starring wide-eyed at his friend. Chris smiles compassionately, pats Jensen’s shoulder and says “sure, buddy” before he drags a completely dazed Jensen with him.
“Here, have some more coffee, maybe you’ll stop hallucinating when your brain swims in something different than vodka,” Chris proposes and pours a very grumpy, very hung-over Jensen another cup.
Jensen want’s to protest but he honestly isn’t sure. Nobody’s seen Padalecki kiss him, hell, even Chris eyes him doubtfully, plus, it really doesn’t make any sense. Jensen’s can’t even remember it himself but obviously it was all he had talked about the night before as Chris and Steve had tried to put him to sleep on the couch in their living room.
He should let it go.
“Call the owner.”
“What?” Chris asks, puzzled. “Why?”
“Maybe he’s seen it. There must be a surveillance tape, right? Every place has cameras these days.”
Snickering, Steve twirls his index finger next to his temple, unfazed by the fact that the mad man in question scowls at him. “Man, it’s a dive. The only cameras you’ll find there are in the guest’s mobiles.”
“And I won’t call the owner as a matter of principle,” Chris adds, getting up- “ You wanna know what happened so bad you can ask Jared. And that’s that.”
Forget everything Jensen’s ever thought about having so called friends being a good thing. Grabbing the last roll despite Steve’s protest, Jensen leaves wordlessly, quietly taking friendly fire into consideration.
“He’s a surprisingly good kisser,” Gen tells Chad over her croissant. “Very versatile, playful. But my neck hurts. It’s like making out with a giraffe - that stands on a stepladder.”
“What part of TMI didn’t you get, Gen?” Chad asks, managing to look agonized despite the bacon half hanging out of his mouth as he tries to simultaneously eat and make her stop talking. “That’s exactly the stuff I don’t need to know about my decidedly male housemate, OK?”
“Prude. You’re missing out if you don’t give him a try at least once,” Gen informs him. Chad makes a face.
“Hey,” Jared interrupts them as he joins his friends at Jared’s and Chad’s kitchen counter, “not a car you can take for a test drive.”
“Pity,” Gen utters her regret with a woeful sigh that earns her a kiss pressed on top of her head.
“Damn right,” Jared agrees, “I’m awesome.”
“Let’s hope your cruel but oh so pretty slaughterer of a dentist got sufficiently jealous,” Gen says. “And fyi, he couldn’t take his eyes off of your sexy ass the whole night.”
“Revenge is a dish best served cold,” Jared grins and takes a big bite from his bagel.
“You are a cruel, cruel bitch,” Gen says, awe clearly audible in her voice.
“He deserved it. I mean, come on, panicking me just because Mr. Hard-as-steel’s too much of a chicken to ask me out? How much of a dick move is that?”
“But you like him,” Gen states.
“Huh?” Chad asks, nearly chocking on his coffee. “You like him? Dude, you’ve been whining about him making Satan look like Mother Theresa since your first appointment.”
“No,” Jared says, too fast and Gen grins dirtily.
“Sure, not your type at all.”
“Actually not, no,” Jared denies defensively. “In fact, I’m into decent human beings and not raving psychopaths with dental drills and a severe case of Kill Kill Kill.” Emphasizing the mental image, Jared pretends to knife an imaginary victim.
“You kissed him,” Gen reminds him, having a field day seeing Jared squirm.
Chad looks concerned over the rim of his coffee cup. “Damn you must be desperate.”
“It was payback.”
“Yeah, you totally showed him,” Gen deadpans.
Jared butters his second bagel like he wants to squash it while Gen smirks evilly. “What, no response how that totally was the plan, in order to… I don’t know, why did you kiss him again after spending the whole evening pawing at me like nobody’s business? Not that I’m complaining.”
“I-He-- He’s kinda cute when he pouts,” Jared mumbles meekly. “Besides, it was just a peck. He’ll probably think I stumbled, or he stumbled into me, whatever. Shut up.”
Gen and Chad shoot each other ‘isn’t he adorable’ looks with a healthy dose of ‘though a little stupid’ and Jared stuffs his face with half his bagel.
Friends. If he didn’t love them so much, he’d be pissed.
“Dental caries is a highly contagious disease. Do I have to worry?”
“What? Who am I talk-Right.”
“So?”
“Come again,” Jared prompts as he makes himself comfortable on the couch, laptop on his thighs to surf his favorite cooking blog before he has to leave for work.
“Dental caries is a highly contagious disease. Do I have to worry?”
“You are the dentist. You tell me.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“Dude, I can hear you breathe,” Jared says. This is starting to feel weird. It’s been three days since they last met at the club, one more to go before Jensen will ream two more of Jared’s teeth, filling a giant hole in between and including both teeth. Jared swallows around the lump in his throat. Damn Jensen for reminding him. Asshole’s probably just calling to pester Jared a little more. Or-Finally, Jared has his light bulb moment and a wide grin spreads over his face. So Jensen was too wasted to remember. That’s golden.
“Dental caries. Contagious. Do. I. Have. To. Worry?” Jensen repeats for a third time, voice low and menacing, stressing every single syllable.
Biting his cheek to keep the smirk from his voice, Jared says, “I don’t know. Did anybody with nasty teeth sneeze at you?”
“This is not how dental decay is transmitted.” Jared can see Jensen grit his perfect teeth as he elaborates.
“No?” Jared asks, all innocent. “Then how is it transmitted?”
“Streptococcus mutants. Bacterias in your saliva. They are transmissible. For example through contaminated objects and people… sharing… said contaminated objects.”
“Like a lollipop?” Jared asks, like a kid looking forward to getting a treat. To be honest, it’s not exactly hard to fake.
“Yes,” Jensen grits out. “For example.”
“So what you are saying is… that you want to share? Like, lick my lollipop?” Jared asks, incredulously, tone still soft and clueless though he’s getting worried he’ll taste blood if he bites his check just a little harder.
“No!” Jensen bursts out. Damn, this is hilarious.
“Too bad,” he sighs, “it’s a very nice lollipop. Kinda big. Really big, actually. And very tasty.”
Jared could swear he can hear a tiny whimper on the other end of the line. So, so gay. He thought he had seen it that night when they were out having drinks and Jensen unconsciously mirrored Jared’s every move, staring at his lips for far too long to blame it solely on the booze and had it confirmed when Jensen tried to ask him out, stupid excuse about Chris forcing him aside.
Jared leans back, the urge to burst out laughing gone, and smiles self-contentedly. He likes this. It levels the power balance.
“Last Saturday,” Jensen tries again, after having steeled himself. “Did we do anything that could have contaminated me? Drinking from the same beer bottle, something like that. Something… uh… involving saliva.”
“How do you drink beer? Slobber all over it? Dude, that’s disgusting.”
“Answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t drink from your bottle.”
“Anything else?”
“No lollipops, no. Thinking of it, that was kind of disappointing.”
“Fine,” Jensen huffs, relief audible in his voice. Relief and something else. Disappointment, maybe? Jared can’t be sure. “So nothing happened. Nothing that could give me your rotting teeth, I mean. Good. So, uhm, see you.”
“You have a nice day, too, Jensen,“ Jared answers sweetly and then, the second before Jensen can hang up. “And don’t worry because of the kiss. After all it was you who shoved your tongue into my mouth so I guess I got all your squeaky clean saliva. You should be safe.”
The bang of Jensen’s mobile hitting the ground ends the call. Jared fist pumps the air in victory.
// chapter 3