Current mood:	accomplished
Entry tags:	abouttwoboys, fic, fic_february, jared/jensen, jsquared, real person fiction

rps: I Don’t Want to Be In Love {jared/jensen, nc-17}
Title: I Don’t Want to Be In Love [But You’re Making Me]
Pairing/Characters: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, Chad Michael Murray, Michael Rosenbaum, Tom Welling, Riley Smith, Lauren Cohan, Milo Ventimiglia, implied Chad/Sophia Bush & Mike/Tom.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; contains graphic m/m content, real person fiction, romance, drama, excessive schmoop. Also, Jared is 18 in this story; Jensen is 26.
Word Count: 25,000+
Summary: A not so stupid person once said that hope was radical. What does that say about romance? [+]
Notes: Written for abouttwoboys, based on the film Formula 17.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Additional Acknowledgments & Soundtrack

I Don’t Want to Be In Love [But You’re Making Me]
written by keepaofthecheez.
Part 1.


Jared knows it’s not normal. He’s never suffered any illusions.

Cool water licks across his spine, curls around a bicep, and all too soon he’s sinking…down, down, fingers to the sky and eyes shut tight. Only then does he relax, smiling. And waiting.

The dream is always the same.

Jared never sees his face.

Just feels warm hands and mouth, tastes the familiar and the unknown.

Then wakes up alone in his own bed.


***


Los Angeles is about as far from San Antonio in both style and culture as Jared can imagine, which is exactly why it’s so damn necessary for him to be there. He can’t be himself in Texas anymore, can’t strive for a normality that just doesn’t exist.

When he steps off the plane, Milo’s there waiting, easy smile lighting his face and early afternoon sun lighting his hair through the windows. He looks just like his picture, and a bit of Jared’s hesitation over the entire thing disappears.

He lugs his big red suitcase over toward Milo, lifts a hand in dorky, sincere greeting. “Hi, I’m Jared. Um, but I guess you know that already…”

Milo’s smile doesn’t falter one bit. If anything, he grins even wider, glancing down at Jared’s suitcase with a raised brow. “You hungry, Jared?”

Jared’s about to open his mouth, admit to the nerves that had him refusing even the insubstantial offering of salted peanuts on the flight over, but then his stomach growls. He claps a hand over it, smiling weakly and feeling ten kinds of idiot as Milo’s handsome features slip into a smirk. “Sure, yeah. I guess that’d be good.”

“Good.” Milo slips on a pair of mirrored lenses and reaches out to take Jared’s suitcase before Jared can protest the help. It’s a little funny, actually, because Jared’s a good foot and a half taller than Milo, not to mention better built, and can definitely handle the damn thing all on his own. Still, this is LA, not Texas, and hell, maybe this is just how the whole gay thing is done down here. Jared wouldn’t exactly know.

“There’s a decent soup and sandwich place not too far from here.”

As they head toward the exit, Jared busies himself by studying the pretty impressive way Milo’s ass fills out a pair of 501’s.

“We can eat and get to know one another a little better.” He slants Jared a knowing look that has heat crawling up his neck.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Jared says, laughing shyly, and as soon as Milo turns back around, he rolls his eyes on a silent groan. Jesus, Jared, could you be more of a pathetic loser?

Probably not, he rationalizes. Most non-pathetic losers don’t need to find a date through the internet.

The restaurant’s nice enough, a bit on the cheesy/sleezy side, but Jared’s a guy and he hardly cares about either. As long as the food’s hot and the drinks are cold, he’s good to go, and says as much to Milo as a waitress brings them a set of menus.

“You know what you want,” Milo says, leaning back in his chair to watch Jared through glittering brown eyes. His voice dips low. “I like that.”

Jared forces a smile, looks down at his menu to hide a hysterical laugh. God, what am I doing here?

The waitress comes back, takes their drink orders, and Jared taps his fingers against the table and stares at his menu. Feels Milo watching him.

“So, do you have any plans for school, Jared, or are you just enjoying the summer?”

“Um, I actually haven’t really thought about it?” Jared rests his menu on the table and shrugs his shoulders. “Mostly I just wanted to get out here before I figured out the rest of it…I have a friend who works down here, and he—”

“A boyfriend?” Milo’s gaze sharpens, and Jared frowns.

“Uh, no. I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He tries to laugh it off, but the fact of the matter is that Milo looks almost disappointed. Not to mention confused. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Jared adds, just in case the clarification was somehow needed.

“Why not?” Milo wonders, reaching across the table where Jared’s hand is resting. Jared swallows a little, lets Milo squeeze his fingers. “You’re fucking adorable.”

“I dunno, I’ve just…never been in love before,” Jared admits, pulse beating faster when Milo suddenly slides into the chair next to him.

He leans in close, close enough for Jared to smell expensive cologne and some other, more natural scent. Despite himself, excitement starts to build a little inside when Milo lays an arm on his shoulder and starts tugging gently on the ends of his hair. “Who said anything about love?”

“Well, I think it’s sort of imp…” Jared trails off, eyes going wide when Milo’s other hand slides up his thigh. “I think…”

“God, you’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?” Milo licks his lips and breathes against Jared’s ear. “I have some hot DVDs at my place, why don’t we—”

“What are you—” Jared tries to interrupt, but is silenced by a finger to the mouth.

“I wanna fuck you, Jared.” Milo’s voice is steady and serious, and Jared’s belly gives a sickening lurch. This isn’t what he came here for, this isn’t supposed to be happening, not like this…

“I’m not looking for a fuck,” he says, unable to hide the offense in his tone, pulling away and coming to his feet.

“Everyone’s looking for a fuck.” Milo stares at him, secretive, sleazy smile still in place. Jared can’t believe for a minute he ever thought the guy was even remotely attractive. “Hey, I get it. I dig the whole hard-to-get scenario…what do you say I tie you up, let you thrash around the bed for a little bit, and then I suck your big, pretty cock until you come on my face and beg me to stick it to that sweet little ass?”

“Oh, my God,” Jared says, and flags down the nearest waitress. “Check please?”


xxx


Chad’s directions have him out in West Hollywood, some trendy club-kid destination that leaves Jared equal parts amazed and amused when his cab pulls up in front. He gets out, stares at the suggestive sign hanging over the door. It’s hard to miss the groups of men loitering outside, and Jared’s eyes widen when a nearby couple begins rubbing up on each other right against the shabby brick wall. Right in front of him.

The shorter of the two, an attractive blond with heavy-lidded eyes, catches sight of him watching and grins, long and slow. Jared flushes and immediately looks away from the engraved invitation.

The cabbie sticks his head out the window, clears his throat. “That’s twenty for hauling your ass around, kid.”

Jared mumbles an apology, fumbling for his wallet and handing over the money. “Um, thank you?” he says politely, but the driver’s already rolling up the window and hitting the gas. Jared stands there for a moment, alone and unsure on the cobblestone pavement. Among the glitter and mesh and, Christ, leather, he’s suddenly all too aware of the old denim clinging to his hips, the faded cotton hugging his shoulders.

The doorman takes a liking to him anyway, slants him a grin and ushers Jared on inside short minutes later. Loud Top 40 hits pulse from the speaker system; the pleasant smell of sweat and body heat surround him as he winds through the crowd in search of the bar.

Chad’s at the bar, tossing shots around a group of laughing twinks and queens, and Jared stops in the middle of the room. Stares at the vision of his best friend, because he’s pretty sure that the pink glow in Chad’s blond hair has nothing to do with the flashing strobe lights.

Someone bumps into him a second later, and Jared blinks. Hauls his suitcase the rest of the way across the bar until he’s managed to make his way right in front of Chad. He waits, grin firmly in place until Chad looks up from whatever fancy drink combination he’s creating.

“How about a ride on the back of my big bike, pretty boy?” Jared tries for a threatening, sexy growl, and Chad’s eyes widen.

“Jay?

“The one and only.” Jared tilts his head. “What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“Like it?” Chad strikes a ridiculous pose that somehow manages to look not all that ridiculous, because it’s Chad, and he’s always been cooler than he knew what to do with. “Yeah, I just…I dunno. Needed a change? Chicks dig it.”

“Chicks?” Jared laughs, dropping his suitcase to the floor and working out a kink in his shoulder. “Since when?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you…I’m totally bisexual now, dude.” Chad licks his lips, nods toward a pair of lesbians at the corner of the bar. “Me likey the titties.”

“Okay, now I feel about fifteen times less pathetic than when I came in, so that’s good.”

Chad flips him off and moves away for a minute to fill a drink order. Jared takes the opportunity to look around, take in the decadent surroundings. Being underage has never really kept him out of places like this, but he’s never really actively pursued them, either. Doesn’t see much appeal in hunting down strangers to hook up with.

Isn’t that what you basically did with Milo? an unwelcome voice sings, and Jared feels like punching himself in his own head. Besides, he thinks, It wasn’t a hook-up. It was a date.

Chad returns with another guy in tow, and Jared stares at the feathery mess clinging to the stranger’s shoulders. Glitter and sequins make up the rest of his outfit, and diamond studs rim the length of both ears.

“Jared Padalecki, meet my unfortunate friend—”

“Mike Rosenbaum.” The guy holds out a hand with nails like the Dragon Lady’s, and Jared slowly shakes it. Then nearly jumps ten feet in the air when Mike raises his voice and says, “Not Mikey or Michael or any other ridiculous name you think you can get away with just because you have an ass I probably wouldn’t mind getting my hands on, you hear me? Mike.” He flashes his teeth in a too-wide smile, tilts his head and bats his lashes. “And don’t forget it, cutie pie.”

“Yeah,” Jared manages. “I don’t think I’m gonna.”

“Look who’s here,” Chad sings under his breath, shouldering Mike and reaching for a bottle of prime Johnnie Walker. Jared follows his friend’s gaze, curious as to what might’ve put that easy flush into Chad’s cheeks after all this time and all of these apparent changes.

Green eyes, is the first thing he manages to grasp onto after the feeling of being socked in the gut passes. Freckled skin stretched across muscle and bone, short brown hair styled back and off a face that makes Jared want to weep. Lips that actually do make him tear up a bit.

The guy’s a God, and this club is his universe. That much is clear to Jared in every step he takes, the cool distance in his gaze, the brush of his hand down expensive silk. Jared’s pretty sure his mystery man’s clothes alone cost more than his own college tuition in its entirety.

“To Jensen Ackles,” Mike toasts, sounding breathless and a little bit bitter as he tips his drink in that direction. “The beautiful bastard.”

“Playboy No. 1,” Chad echoes with a fair bit of admiration to contrast Mike’s envy.

That gets Jared’s attention. “What’s that?” he says, but he never really hears Chad’s response, still tracking the guy--Jensen--across the club. Everyone seems to know him; they call out as he passes by, hands reaching, but Jensen evades it all with a grin and a careful step. Doesn’t stop until he gets to a table near the back, chock-full of happy, drunken guys and smolders down at one in particular. Jared can’t see the other guy’s face; he’s too keen on watching Jensen.

He keeps waiting for Jensen to notice, feel him watching, feel the connection between them, because God, Jared can’t be imagining this all on his own. He doesn’t care if it’s completely irrational to think so.

But Jensen never once glances his way, and Jared finally turns back to his friends and blows out a breath. His voice comes out a shade too husky, too telling. “Can I get some ice water?”

Mike smirks while Chad shoves a glass under the spout. “Don’t even think about it, Tex.” He reaches out, pats Jared’s cheek with a condescending sort of sympathy. “You’re too sweet to turn so sour.”

Jared blinks, looks at Chad for translation.

But Chad just laughs and slides Jared the glass of water. “Hey. Remember that condom I brought you back from…shit, where was it…”

“Japan,” Jared says, waving off the shot of tequila Mike’s trying to force on him. “Junior year. And yeah, what about it?”

Chad leans forward on his elbows. “Whatever happened to that thing?”

The tips of Jared’s ears turn red. “Well, uh.” He can’t quite meet Chad’s penetrating gaze, fingers the rim of his glass and mumbles something under his breath that has his best friend leaning closer.

“What? You used it? Hot damn, Jay, you sly dog. Told you that thing was lucky.” He turns toward Mike and explains. “Got it from some woo-woo fortune-teller in Tokyo.”

“No, I haven’t.” Jared blows out a frustrated breath. “I just…it’s…”

“What, you lost the damn thing? It broke?” Chad’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit, dude. Did it break? Were you fucking some stallion in the sack and your big porno cock broke the—”

“Dude, no, I’m still a virgin.” Jared glares across the bar.

Chad frowns, cocks his head. “What?”

“I wanna hear more about this porno cock,” Mike says, licking his lips and moving in closer to Jared.

“I’m a virgin,” Jared repeats a little louder, backing away from Mike while Chad shakes his head.

“I can’t hear you…you did what?”

“I’m a virgin, okay?”

It reverberates off the walls of the club, the music dimmed down to a dull throb as the DJ switches tracks, and Jared stares at Mike and Chad in mutual horror.

“Oh, my God,” he mutters, setting his glass down and all but covering his face with both hands.

Mike lets out a snort, then a chuckle, then he’s outright laughing, and leading everyone in a raucous round of applause that has Jared peeking out through his fingers.

People are hooting and grinning at him; he gets a thumbs-up from a cute looking guy in the back, and then. He meets green eyes; the corners of that pretty mouth quirk and Jensen lifts his glass in Jared’s direction. Jared fumbles for his own cup, gives an aborted, sloshy salute that has Chad snickering under his breath. But Jensen only grins again, bigger. Brighter.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, Tex.” Mike claps a hand on Jared’s shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Jared stumbles forward, and the moment’s broken. When he looks again, Jensen’s deep in conversation with a slutty-looking blond in leather pants.

“Wow,” Jared says, amazed, flustered. “He’s really—”

“Out of your league, princess.” Mike shoots Chad a heated glare, before tossing back his drink and stomping off with a pronounced swish of hips and glitter. Jared blinks after him.

“Eh, don’t mind him, Jay.” Chad runs a hand through his—dear god—pink hair. “But he’s probably right…Jensen Ackles isn’t for the faint of fairy heart.”

Jared looks again, and now the blond’s blatantly nuzzling Jensen’s neck while he calmly sips from a highball. And it’s stupid, really, the sinking feeling weighing in his belly. He covers it up with a laugh that falls a little too short. Fumbles for his drink. “Well, I don’t care about Jensen Ackles, okay?”

“You don’t care about Jensen Ackles.” Mike suddenly pops up again at Jared’s left. He stares at Jared in a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“No, I am.” Jared resolutely doesn’t look at Chad when he adds, “I’m just not interested in guys like that.”

Mike scoffs. “Whatever, kid. Everyone’s interested in Jen. Chad, you better fill your little farmboy in before he really embarrasses himself. Nothing wrong with innocence. S’cute even, but denial is so unattractive.”

“Hey, I’m not that innocent.” Jared’s brows draw together. “I’ve done stuff.”

“Really?” Mike doesn’t seem impressed, perching on the stool next to Jared’s and resting his chin against his hand. He cocks his head, flutters ridiculous, glitter-tipped lashes. “Do tell, pretty boy.”

Jared licks his lips. “Well, I mean, I’ve done stuff…with girls,” he mumbles, ignoring Chad’s snort and Mike’s exaggerated look of disgust. “What! That counts, doesn’t it?”

Mike shakes his head solemnly and stands up. “If you think so, there’s your problem.”

Jared watches him leave, gaze inevitably drawn again to the back of the room.


xxx


“So, you do this every night?” Jared asks, turning over the last chair and wiping his brow. The club’s all but deserted now; the floor’s sticky and littered with trash, smudged with footprints. Well-used and lived in, and it makes Jared grin with satisfaction.

Chad glances up from counting tips. “Gotta pay the bills,” he says. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that…we have a janitor that comes in every morning before we open at noon.”

Jared shrugs and drops the broom he’d found tucked into a corner behind the bar. He walks over and watches his friend for a minute, until Chad finally looks up with a questioning brow. Jared grins, holds both hands up. “Sorry, I just…look at you. So different. I can’t get over it, man.”

Chad smirks. “And look at you…just the same.”

Jared waits for the familiar comment to sting, and maybe it would’ve even a day ago. But hell, he’s out of Texas, he’s here, and while there may be a grain of truth to Chad’s statement, the simple fact is that Jared’s finally taking that first step. No one can take that away from him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean…” Chad trails off, watching him with a bit of sheepish apology, until Jared chuckles and punches him in the shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Chad nods, grabs his jacket. Jared reaches for his suitcase and then they’re out the back door and into the balmy night air.

“You staying with me or what?”

“Where else?” Jared answers, eyes to the sky as he uselessly tries to count the stars in the midst of bright city lights. "Figured I’d try looking for a job tomorrow. Just for the summer.”

“Cool, I know a guy,” is all Chad says, and then he launches into a lengthy account of everything he’s been up to since he and Jared last saw one another, and Jared struggles to keep up and not laugh at the ridiculous nature of most of Chad’s comments.

Within a few blocks, Chad pulls him up the sidewalk of an attractive apartment complex, and Jared whistles. “All this on tips alone?”

“This is LA, Jay. Not San Antonio.” Chad fumbles with his key ring and unlocks the door. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to tip, and what for.”

Jared wrinkles his nose, follows Chad inside the dark apartment. “I don’t even wanna know what that means.”

Chad’s laugh is a few shades too evil.

Jared’s eyes widen when Chad hits the light switch. “Holy shit, Chad…this is…”

“Nice, huh?” Chad doesn’t quite hide the hint of smug gratification as he tosses his keys on the table and walks past Jared for the bathroom. “Make yourself at home, dude. I gotta few calls to make.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jared wanders over to a nearby bookcase, takes in the various photographs, trophies. His lips quirk with pride even as faint envy stabs him in the chest. “Good for you, Murray.”

“No, babe, I just can’t make it until sometime next month.” Chad comes back out of the bathroom, shirtless and tugging up a pair of drawstring pants. He switches the phone to his opposite ear and murmurs something else too low for Jared to pick up. Then, “God, I miss you, too. Can’t wait to see you, touch you, taste—”

Jared carefully clears his throat. Chad shoots him a glare.

“Damn, Soph. I’ll call you back later, okay?” There’s a pause, and then Chad sighs. Looks a little embarrassed. “I know. I love you, too…sugarpants.”

He turns off the phone and hurls it at Jared’s wheezing figure. “At least I’m getting some, you ungrateful asshole.”

“Aw, don’t get upset, sugarpants.” Jared ducks the flying pillow Chad throws next. Grins from underneath his lashes. “Chad Michael Murray, hunting pussy. Who’d've thunk it?”

Chad purses his lips, trying to look pissed off and failing miserably. “Hey, I’m an equal-opportunity genitalia seeker.”

Jared falls back on the couch, legs spread. “Whatever, dude. Who’m I to judge, anyway?”

At that, Chad gets a look on his face that should’ve sent warning signals straight to Jared’s brains. He blames the late hour and the alcohol. “That’s right…and speaking of, how’d your little date go? You never said at the club.”

Jared groans, sinks down deeper into the couch cushions. “Can we go back to talking about you?”

“That bad, huh. Told you not to go lookin’ for love on the internet.”

“It wasn’t like that—” Jared immediately starts to protest, then realizes, hell, it’s sort of exactly like that. “Ah, fuck off.” He bites his lip, considering. Then, “It was a disaster, dude. He propositioned me over a bologna sandwich. There were little kids five feet away!”

“Kinky,” Chad says. Ignoring Jared’s look, he waves a hand. “Okay, okay. Go back to the proposition bit.”

Jared’s cheeks flush at the memory. “He…he basically said he wouldn’t mind…”

“What?”

“He said he wanted to suck my big, pretty dick until I came all over his face or something.” Jared stumbles over the words, red-faced and mortified, and when he hazards a glance back at his best friend, he finds Chad nearly choking on his laughter.

“Oh, God.” Chad’s entire body shakes. “That’s awesome.” And then, “Wait, how does he know your dick’s big and pretty? You could be tall with a tiny, pimply schlong! I swear, I hate stereotyping, dude, I--”

Jared can only stare. “Seriously? That’s what offends you about the situation? The guy wanted to use me for…for…weird, kinky sex!”

“Jared, Jared, Jared.” Chad looks pitying. “You need someone to use you for weird, kinky sex. Seriously.”

“No, I don’t.” He crawls over Chad and pops open his suitcase. Fumbles around inside for a minute before his fingers close around something thin and well-worn. “I know exactly what I want, and this is how I’m gonna get it.”

Chad takes a single look at the cover of the book and starts off in another fit of laughter.

Jared huffs in exasperation, smacks him in the back of the head. “You’re such a dick!”

“You…you…” Chad gasps for breath. “Love is a Kind of Faith? What, you’re gonna take sex tips from a wrinkled, old nun who’s probably never given a blowjob in her life?”

“She’s not a nun!” Jared laughs, hitting Chad with the book again. “And I’m not talking about sex tips, stupid. I want a…a relationship, okay? Shut up,” he warns when Chad’s lips tremble again.

“You have no idea what you want.” Chad crosses his arms. “Be honest, the farthest you’ve been is when Sandy McCoy let you finger her in the backseat of the van at Space Camp.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Yeah, so,” Chad mocks. “Jared, you’re a freaking fag! And I can promise you, there will be no fingering…okay, well, there will be, but you need to be prepared now, man. Get a taste of the milk before you go locking the cow up in the barn.”

Jared’s immediately assaulted by the memory of green-gold eyes, a sexy smile. “I don’t think so,” he says, but damned if the idea doesn’t keep him up half the night.


xxx


“I had that dream again.”

Chad spits toothpaste in the sink and wipes his mouth with a towel. “Again? What’d he ask you about this time, science, history?”

“Trigonometry.” Jared leans against the bathroom door, pulling on his lower lip and frowning at the reminder of warm breath in his ear. Cool water over his head. “Some sin² + cos² crap, over and over and over…it’s just getting weirder, Chad.”

“You’re just getting weirder.” Chad pushes past him and stretches both arms over his head. “Only you would turn a sex dream into a freaking study session.”

Jared rubs the back of his neck in frustration. “That’s not the point.”

“No, the point is that your dream guy? He doesn’t exist.” Chad shoves another pair of towels in a gym bag and throws it at Jared’s chest. “And even if he does? You’ve never even seen his face, Jay. He could be a fugly-ass troll for all you know. He could be cross-eyed, or have hairy nostrils. Hell, he could be me--”

“Please, I just ate.” Jared slings the bag over his shoulder and tries not to pout. “Whatever, let’s just go.”


xxx


Jared’s not sure what he was expecting when it came to Chad’s mystery man with connections, but Tom Welling…isn’t even close.

For one thing, the guy’s fucking beautiful. Way too beautiful to be stuck working in a gym, no matter how fancy the place is. Jared’s pretty sure the glimpse of Tom coming out of the pool, soaked and wearing skimpy bikini briefs is going to be burned into the back of his eyes for a good while to come.

“And who do we have here?” Tom grins at Jared when Chad calls him over, all but rubbing up against Jared and using him to dry off. “Well, you’re a healthy one, aren’t you?”

Jared smiles uncertainly, and Chad rolls his eyes. “Fitness coach Tom Welling--wandering cock. Meet Jared Padalecki. Back off, Tommy, he’s a virgin.” Chad laces the word with sugar-sweetness, and Jared grits his teeth.

Tom blinks dark lashes, face falling. “Oh, too bad.” He grabs a towel from Mike, who was watching the introduction with amused disinterest, and starts briskly rubbing it through his hair. “So, what do you want?”

“Well, I was looking for a job,” Jared begins, and Tom waves him off.

“Gotcha, I’ll take care of it.”


xxx


Jared’s first morning at the gym doesn’t bring much excitement. He’s stuck covering the shifts of one of the janitors while the man visits with his newly-delivered granddaughter, and waiting for Tom to come through with a better position. By midday, he’s spilled bleach down the front of his shirt, sanitized fifteen different kinds of treadmills, and turned down even more offers for extra-curricular forms of payment.

It’s almost a relief to be banished to the locker room after an incident involving a bottle of Windex and a particularly pushy gym member, and Jared takes a moment to rest his forehead against cool metal and breathe deep.

Okay, so, this isn’t exactly what he’d pictured happening when coming to California. But Jared’s a fighter, damn it, and he’ll polish all the fitness equipment in the western U.S. if it means getting him any closer to where he wants to be. What he wants to be.

If he can only figure out what that is.

He straightens with a sigh, reaches for a stack of clean towels to begin folding. He’s just placing a pair in an empty locker when the sound of footsteps echoes down the corridor. Jared stiffens momentarily; he’d been enjoying the solitude.

“Excuse me?”

The voice is a pleasant rumble that vibrates down Jared’s spine, and he turns. Finds himself staring into equally surprised gold-flecked green eyes. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“Well, you’re…not the usual guy,” Jensen finally laughs, reaching for the knot in his towel. Jared’s gaze dips down, takes in the drops of water still clinging to drying skin, and swallows.

“Um, yeah. I mean, no. I mean.” He smiles weakly, scratches his nose. “Yeah, I’m new. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” comes that deep voice, and Jared suppresses a shudder, looks anywhere but at Jensen’s half-naked figure so goddamn close. “But…the water stopped working right in the middle of my shower. I was wondering if I could get someone to take a look?”

Jared blinks, struggles to comprehend the words coming out of that pretty mouth. When he manages to focus again, Jensen’s watching him with a lifted brow and something of a smirk tilting his lips. It sends heat rushing up Jared’s neck, and he quickly turns away, sets down the rest of the towels.

“Sure, uh, I’ll see what I can do.” He has no idea about plumbing, but how hard can it be to wiggle a few knobs?

Jensen gestures him on ahead, and Jared’s certain he feels the burn of a stare between his shoulders the entire way down the hall to the showers. When he glances back, Jensen slowly, carelessly brings his gaze up from the area of Jared’s hips and smiles again.

“Hi,” he drawls, and Jared’s knees actually wobble.

“Um, hi.” He bites his lip, watching Jensen carefully. “Which…which one is it?”

Jensen blinks, looking off-kilter for all of a second before blowing out a breath. “Oh, yeah, it’s, uh. Third one down.”

Jared nods and practically runs into the specified stall. His pulse is a rapid thrum in his ears, his heart, and he feels a bit shaky all over. It’s ridiculous, because Jensen is not at all what he wants, and he’s well-used to ignoring temptation.

Sure enough, the water pressure is non-existent, and nothing but a few drops trickle out as Jared fiddles with the nozzle. He hears Jensen come in behind him, but doesn’t spare the other man more than a quick look before returning his attention to the broken shower knob.

He wiggles it, shakes it, curses under his breath when it does nothing. There’s a soft chuckle from somewhere behind him, and the back of Jared’s neck warms. He looks over and Jensen’s leaning against the tile, arms crossed and easy grin in place.

“You, uh.” Jared’s not entirely sure what he’s planning to say; he twists the knob and a stream of hot water spurts out, soaking him through to the skin. “Oh, shit!” He stumbles back, right into steady arms.

“Whoa, careful,” Jensen breathes against his ear, and Jared goes still. Another wave of water bursts from the pipes, and he shakes his wet hair out of his face and reaches for the nozzle. “Here, let me…” Jensen reaches around him to help torque the knob.

It’s a quick struggle that seems endless, and then the water stops spraying and Jared’s left panting against slick tile. Jensen’s still pressed up against him, smelling like clean soap and warmth and staring at him with something even hotter when Jared twists his neck to see. Water sparkles on the tips of his lashes, and Jared’s momentarily mesmerized.

“Hi,” he says, lamely, and Jensen’s lips curve.

“Hey, there.” It’s nearly a whisper, and then Jensen’s eyes drop as Jared wets his lips. Green-gold flashes and Jensen shifts his hips just so, letting Jared feel the hard length behind him.

“Hey, Jensen, you still in here…?”

Jared jumps about ten feet at the intruding voice, just as Jensen leans in closer, and they knock foreheads on a mutual oath. Jared turns wide eyes on the figure darkening the hallway. The guy’s staring back at him, a hint of humor coloring his features. Jared quickly averts his eyes, swallows at the sight of Jensen’s hand clutching the wet hem of his shirt.

“Just a sec, Riley,” Jensen’s saying, and a thread of frustration deepens his natural husk to rasp. Jared wipes a hand down his face and catches Jensen’s gaze. The aroused flush across Jensen’s cheeks brings out freckles Jared wants to map with his fingers. The urge is sudden and overwhelming and sends him into a desperate panic.

“All fixed!” The words come out hurried, and not a little harried, and then he’s sliding under Jensen’s arm and rushing past Jensen’s friend. Riley says something under his breath that Jared doesn’t catch, and Jensen’s voice follows.

Jared doesn’t stop until he reaches the empty sauna. Locks himself in and turns up the heat.


xxx


Jared’s out to dinner with Chad, Mike, and Tom when he first makes the mistake of mentioning the incident.

He’s finally succeeded in convincing himself that the spark of interest in Jensen’s eyes was nothing more than wishful thinking on his part, and fucking stupid wishful thinking, at that. Which is why he hates that five seconds after speaking of it, he’s flushed and unable to look at any of the others directly in the eye.

“What a snob,” Mike seethes over lo mein and wantons. He’s wearing an outrageous patterned blouse complete with a rainbow scarf that he tosses over his shoulder in a fit of irritation. “Can’t he fix his own goddamn shower? Using Jared like his little working boy.”

Jared blinks at the unexpected support, while Tom flicks the flat of his spoon against Mike’s forehead.

“Hey!”

“Jared was at work, dumbass.” Then Tom shrugs both shoulders, returning his attention to Jared. “But yeah, he kinda is a total fucking snob. Never talks to anyone, never makes eye contact…like we’re all a bunch of lepers or something.”

The idea obviously burns Tom, who probably prides himself on his ability to distract anyone and anything on good looks alone, and honestly? Jared knows nothing to contradict the opinion. Hell, he’s spent all of five minutes in Jensen Ackles’ presence, so it’s not like he’s had time to sit down and analyze the guy’s personality. But he just…it’s hard for him to imagine that the sweet, genuine smiles they shared were anything less than, well, genuine.

“I don’t think he’s a snob,” he says slowly, unaware that three pairs of eyes immediately fasten on him with varying degrees of wariness. He’s too busy staring into the depths of his iced tea and remembering. “Maybe he’s just shy.”

Chad clears his throat; Jared starts, looks up and into the worried eyes of his best friend. Mike and Tom are shaking their heads in unison.

“What?” His voice comes out more than a bit defensive. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Okay.” Chad sighs. “I can see we’re going to have to do this the hard way.” There’s no anger, annoyance present in his tone, but Jared feels chastised all the same. “Mike?”

Mike scoots in close, the corners of his lips pressed tight together as he glares Jared down. “You probably just think I’m jealous, right? Because I never got anywhere with the guy. Right?” His voice takes on a rancorous hiss. “I’m sure Chad told you all about how I threw myself at him and begged to suck his cock and he just walked away--”

Chad clears his throat again while Jared gapes in horror.

Mike appears a bit taken aback. “…No?”

Chad shakes his head vigorously, and Tom snickers under his breath. Jared’s blushing, and he doesn’t even know why.

“Well, fuck.” Mike straightens his scarf and huffs. “Anyway, I’m not jealous, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Tom drawls, eyes rolling. “Anyway, Jared, man. I mean, maybe if you did one-night stands or something…”

“Or if this wasn’t your first time,” Chad interrupts pointedly, and Jared frowns. “But it is, dude, and I’m telling you now. Jensen Ackles is so not the guy you want to be messing around with.”

And really, Jared’s just about had enough.

“And why is that?” he says, tossing his fork on the table and folding both arms against his chest. He stares down the others, enjoying their slightly flustered expressions. It’s clear they just expected him to roll over and agree with whatever they say, and maybe the old Jared would’ve done that. But the new Jared leaves home and takes care of himself and evades gym-sluts and flirts with gorgeous guys in men’s locker rooms. Even if he does feel guilty about it later.

There’s a few beats of silence before Mike sniffs and pats Chad on the shoulder. “I got this one,” he says, and Jared can already feel a headache coming on. Mike’s eyes narrow on Jared in feigned sympathy. “Let me fill you in on your dream man, Jared.”

Twenty minutes later, Jared feels sick to his stomach and wishes he’d kept his mouth shut altogether.


| go to Part 2 |