RockStarPeach

Title: Glittering Prizes and Endless Compromises
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Others (both graphic and implied, include: Jensen/Misha, Jensen/JDM, Jensen/Jake Abel, Jensen/Mark Sheppard, Jensen/Lauren Cohan)
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 45000
Summary: Jared's in love with Jensen. The only problem is, Jensen's a hooker and Jared can't really afford him. It's a good thing he's so darn cute, because despite Jared's meagre finances, they strike up a business relationship that was only ever an excuse to become more than that. They're head over heels for each other, so it should be their happily ever after, right? Turns out it's harder than Jared expected, having a hooker for a boyfriend. Jensen on the other hand, saw this coming.

MASTERPOST



“Fuck, my ass hurts,” Jared grumbles. He wriggles and he pouts as he shifts his hips experimentally, stretches to works out some of the kinks in his back and his neck and his arms. He groans and winces when he pulls his knees up and Jensen almost feels a pang a sympathy for him, until he turns his head to shoot Jensen an accusatory glare as he gingerly sits up on the edge of the beat-up double bed.

Jared grabs a handful of the threadbare blankets that bunched up on top of them after they passed out half an hour ago and he yanks. He lets go and sends them flying onto the floor at the foot of the bed, leaving them both naked and a little bit cold. The central heating in this apartment hasn't worked for as long as Jensen's been using it. Jared scowls and Jensen laughs, because the kid just doesn’t get any less adorable, even when he’s copping a ridiculous attitude.

God, Jensen's an idiot for taking him home. He's an idiot for kissing Jared last night on the street outside the convenience store, Jared's last eighty-three dollars tucked into his pocket and he's an idiot for spending six damn hours with him, when he could have been out making some real money.

“Don’t look at me like that, man,” Jensen says. He widens his eyes and quirks his lips up, holds his hands in front of him so his palms are facing Jared in surrender. “You were the one who kept saying ‘harder, harder’. I was just doin’ my job.”

Jared chuckles and ducks his head, a blush spreading across his cheeks that Jensen just barely manages not to kiss away. That would be unprofessional. “Please tell me you’re at least feeling it, too?”

Jensen smiles back. Honestly, he’s not. Jared fucked him pretty good during that third round – after Jensen blew him on the kitchen table and then fucked him doggy style, Jared's face buried in the pillow, his head knocking against the headboard with each one of Jensen's brutal thrusts – but Jensen takes it up the ass professionally and Jared’s impressive but he’s not that impressive.

Jensen’s dealt with bigger and more importantly, rougher; when Jared's the one doing the fucking, he's kind of a teddy bear.

Still, Jared’s a client, albeit not a very well paying one, and Jensen has a job to do.

Okay, so that's kind of a big fat lie because let’s face it, he pretty much gave Jared a freebie last night. Jensen gave up self-denial a long time ago. He’s completely comfortable admitting to himself that he thinks Jared is cuter than fuck, that he's noticed Jared noticing him the past few months and that when Jared finally got up the nerve to make what in his awkward, fumbling way passed for a move, he was so damn sweet that Jensen slipped up.

He's comfortable admitting that he might have a bit of a crush, that he'd led with his heart last night instead of his wallet and that’s the real reason he spent the night with Jared. Eighty-three dollars probably could have bought the kid a quick hand job up against the wall, but sure as hell not a blow job, two rounds of anal sex and a fucking nap.

But eighty-three dollars was all the money Jared had in the world, all the money he'd managed to save up working two minimum wage jobs and honestly, Jensen could afford it.

“Mmm, yeah. I'll be feeling that for days,” he says, shooting Jared an empty, flirty smile. The words roll right off his tongue, something he’s said a hundred times before. Usually to one of his older clients, someone with a lot of money and very little power. Usually someone with a small dick.

Lying is easy. Lying gets him bigger tips and repeat business and Jensen loves his regulars. The same johns every time means he doesn't have to take on as many new customers, doesn't have to take as many chances that someone new is going to want something extremely fucked up from him, want to hurt him or try to rob him. Or, be a cop. Whoring is easy and lucrative (and fun, sometimes) but it's not exactly the safest profession in the world.

This time though, the lie sort of turns his stomach. Something about the way Jared's eyes go soft and crinkled at the edges when he smiles and the way his lashes flutter when he blinks, slowly makes Jensen want to not let him down. Something about the shy flush of pink across Jared's cheeks and the way he cocks his head down makes Jensen want to tell the truth.

The truth is, he had a great time last night. The truth is, he wasn't really on the clock and they both know that. But, Jensen hasn't had a personal romantic relationship since he started hooking more than a year ago and he's not about to start now. No, he's going to treat this like business, even if he has to pretend.

“I might need to take tonight off,” he says, making his movements overly slow and careful as he pushes himself up so that he's sitting, back resting against the headboard. He puts one foot flat on the bed, bends his knee to rest his arm across it while his legs causally fall open, his soft, used up cock lying spent and thick against the inside of his thigh.

Jared blinks, looks down at it and licks his lips. His eyes go hooded for a moment and he actually leans in, like he's drawn to it for a moment before Jensen chuckles a little and Jared jerks and sits up straight again, smiling.

“I hope not, man,” he says, blush spreading down the back of his neck as he rubs his hands nervously along the tops of his own thighs. “Shit, was I too rough? I already feel guilty about you charging me so little. If I cost you a night’s pay on top of that?” He pauses and shrugs and it really is so fucking adorable that Jensen sort of wants to hug him. “I’d feel like complete shit.”

Well that figures. Most guys get off on that. Not on hurting Jensen, not that. There have been a couple of men over the months that have wanted to, asked or even tried to push when Jensen said no, but Jensen knows how to take care of himself. No, most guys get off on thinking that they're big and strong and they fuck like machines, on thinking that Jensen will be thinking about them the next time he's with a client. It's an ego boost, they don’t mope over it. Jared is one of a fucking kind. At some other point in his life, Jensen could really get into that.

“Seriously,” Jensen says with a warm smile, leaning across the bed to rest his forehead briefly against Jared’s. He pulls back with a quick kiss, shaking his head. “Cutest fucking thing, ever. Christ man, you’re gonna ruin me.”

Jared’s answering smile is bashful, but no less blinding for it.

Jensen takes a split second to consider giving Jared his money back for the night – Hell, the kid obviously needs it more than he does – but that might send the wrong message. He’s not looking to start dating, not even someone as sweet and gorgeous and achingly nice as Jared seems to be. Especially not someone like that.

So he won’t give him a refund, it will only complicate things, but he’ll feel guilty about it. He can’t not, because Jared obviously needs to pinch every last penny, and Jensen… doesn’t.

The thing is, this place? This 400 square foot, one room apartment they spent the night in, with a half-broken space heater in the corner and cracks in the drywall and mismatched chairs at the wobbly kitchen table? It’s not his.

Okay, technically it is. Or, at least it's half his. It's his and it's Misha's in the sense that they spend six hundred dollars a month to rent it out, but it’s not where they live.

They work in this neighbourhood, sure. They'd once considered going legit – or at least as close to it as hookers can get. When they were talking about the possibility of Jensen starting out in this business they'd bounced around the idea of getting a job with a high-class escort service, but Jensen didn't want a legitimate, traceable job history that included 'prostitute'. And really, nobody ever believes those 'escorts' don't fuck for a little extra cash at the end of the night, even when they really don't.

And Jensen very much would have.

Besides, Jensen wouldn't even have known where to start looking for a job like that. The way they do it is easier anyway, Jensen thinks. He likes not having a boss.

So, they keep a cheap apartment in an even cheaper part of town and charge five times as much as anyone else working in this neighbourhood when assholes from the suburbs feel like slumming.

They sometimes take lower-paying clients, obviously. Misha more than Jensen (because the twisted fucker kind of gets off on it) but they both do it. Not for the money, but for the appearance. When the rich boys cruise their block, they like to feel like they’re doing Jensen and Misha a favour. Everybody likes to play the hero, even johns looking for a quick BJ.

Hell, if they did the same job in their own neighbourhood they probably wouldn’t make half as much.

They keep pretty tight-lipped about that information, though. None of the other whores they hang out with knows that they were actually both doing pretty okay for themselves even before they started hooking. They don't know that Jensen’s only doing this because it pays well and he's trying to save up for business school, maybe a store front if he's lucky, so he can avoid another huge loan. And Jensen's the only one who knows that Misha is set to inherit millions.

“I guess I should... get going,” Jared offers, after Jensen tucks a stray strand of Jared's hair behind his ear. Jared giggles and leans into it when Jensen tickles the shell with the tips of his fingers. “I... Thank you.”

He stands then and starts to dress in the clothing that Jensen stripped him of last night and hastily discarded onto the kitchen floor. Jensen stands up as well, steps into his own boxers and then leans against the wall to watch as Jared bends over to pick up his jeans. Nice view. Damn nice view. Shit.

“I know this wasn't...” Jared starts, frowns and pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I know I'm thinking about this as more than it was.” He pauses again and ducks his head, chuckles to himself. “I've been following you around for months, I don't know if you noticed...”

Jensen chuckles then, too, because yes, yes he'd noticed.

“Anyway,” Jared goes on, embarrassed. “You did something nice for me, I know that and I want you to know that I really appreciate it. So... thanks again, Jensen.”

Jensen smiles and pushes off the wall, walks closer to Jared, slowly. He takes one of Jared's hands in his, draws it up gently to his mouth and presses a soft kiss against Jared's knuckles.

“It was my pleasure, Jared,” he says. And it was. He could say more, but he doesn't. He steps back and guides Jared toward the door and once they've crossed the four feet of living space between the fridge and the entrance, Jared stops and turns.

“That’s… Is that your real name? Jensen?” he asks.

Jensen narrows his eyes for a second, debating but then opens his mouth to answer. He’s cut off by Jared shaking his head and turning away, adjusting the hang of his shirt over his belt buckle.

“I’m sorry, that was… You don’t have to answer that. Of course it’s not your real name. Why would you share that kind of thing with someone like me? I mean, I don’t…”

“Jared,” Jensen says, the word coming out full of good-natured humour and Jared snaps his mouth shut. “Is your real name Jared?”

Jared nods. “Jared Padalecki,” he says. “My folks live two towns over, but I moved here after I graduated high school. I wouldn't go to college, like they wanted and they kicked me out. No, wait, that's not... They didn't kick me out like...” He pauses and frowns, squints and narrows his eyebrows and balls his hands up in fists in front of his thighs, mock-threatening. “You're not our son anymore, we never want to see you again kind of kicked out. More like... You think you're an adult, go out and prove it. And um... my big sister lives across town so here seemed like a good place and I don't really know what I want to do yet, if I do want to go to college or get a real job someplace, but...” He trails off when he catches Jensen's wide smile, and ducks his head. “Sorry.”

“Yes, Jensen is my real name,” he tells him, kicking a little at Jared's sock foot with his own bare toes, teasingly. “But it’ll take a hell of a lot more than eighty-three bucks to get any more information than that.”

Jared looks down and laughs, shakes his head as he slips into his shoes.

“Fair enough,” he says, as he pulls the door open and steps out in the hall. “So I'll see you? You know... around, or whatever?”

“You know where to find me,” Jensen agrees and he stands still and accepts one final, chaste kiss on the lips before Jared starts down the stairwell. He watches the dark mop of messy, floppy hair disappear around the bend before he lets out a slow puff of breath and closes the door to get dressed.

Twenty minutes and a thirty-three dollar cab ride later, Jensen is home.

***

Jensen wakes up some hours later, after slapping the snooze button on his alarm close to a dozen times.

He hasn’t been out that late in a damn long while and he knows he’s already slept through his morning workout with Misha at the gym downstairs. They’re never up for breakfast but a glance at the clock when he's finally alert enough to focus tells him that he’s also too late for lunch.

Fuck. He rolls out of bed and darts across the hall into the shower, purposefully not glancing toward the living room where he can hear the tinny, electric ringing of cheering crowds and catchy melodies that tell him his roommate has already broken out the Nintendo 64. Jensen prefers Mario Kart, but when Misha gets to pick, he always picks Wave Racer.

Jensen washes quickly, soaps up and lets his hand linger over his cock while his mind flashes back to several hours earlier, when he'd had Jared spread out underneath him, but it doesn't linger for long. He came twice last night and he's got to work in a few hours, so he sure as hell doesn't need the relief, not right now.

He's got other things he needs to think about. Normal things, every day things. Life things.

He goes over his grocery list in his head as he washes, scrubs sweat and dried come and lube from under his fingernails and the hair at the base of his cock and low on his belly. He reminds himself to call his parents later on, to see if they got the flowers he sent them for their anniversary as he scrubs his hair clean and while he rinses the suds from his body and down the drain he smiles, and wonders if Jared's working tonight at Star Convenience or Trendz Video. He wonders if he'll get to see him later, or if he'll have to wait and he thinks about wearing his good shirt, the green one that's tight across the chest and brings out his eyes, just in case.

He rolls his eyes at himself as he shuts off the water, reminds himself as he pulls on a pair of comfortable pants, that despite Jared's puppy love and Jensen's own sort-of crush, thinking those kinds of thoughts is a bad idea. The last relationship he'd attempted fell apart just after he started hooking. It fell apart hard.

No, he reminds himself, stepping out into the living room. Jared was just business.

“You were out late,” Misha says, voice teasing and light. He looks at Jensen with a knowing glint in his eye. Honest to God, that's how Misha described it once, over a year ago when he gave Jensen that same look over one of his missing porn tapes. 'The fuck's wrong with your face?' 'This? It's my knowing glint. You might as well fess up. Christ. Who even talks like that? “Have a good time with the kid?”

Jensen tugs at the waist of his grey sweatpants, pulling them up over the jut of his hips and scratches his fingers absently over his bare belly.

“Ugh,” he grunts, still groggy even after his shower and flops down on the couch next to Misha. “Yeah, I guess. Same old same old, you know?”

He reaches across the table and picks up Misha’s half-eaten bowl of Cap'n Crunch and finishes it off without a word while Misha raises a dry eyebrow.

Misha snorts and kicks Jensen in the shin when he grabs his coffee and drains the rest of the mug in one swallow. “Yeah. I had to satisfy a client in the stairwell at two in the morning because you were in the apartment. Still. And what did he pay you again? A grand? Two? That's what you usually charge for the whole night, right?”

“Shut up,” Jensen grumbles. “He's a sweet kid, I had a good time. You gonna make a big deal out of it?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Jesus, Misha,” Jensen scowls. He pushes back into the couch and kicks his legs up so his feet land in Misha's lap. Misha lets out a sharp bark of laughter but he starts to obediently rub his thumb into the arches of Jensen's tired feet nonetheless. Jensen moans like it's sex. Fuck, it's better than most of the sex Jensen has, these days.

“It wasn't a date,” he goes on. “It was just... God right there. It was just some fun. I'm counting it as a night off.”

Misha laughs a little at that.

They don't work every night; they don't have to. Three or four nights a week and they've got more than enough to live off, plus a decent amount to put away. Another year, Jensen thinks, working like this and he'll have enough saved up. And Misha, he can quit any time he wants. He's got enough money coming to him that he'll never have to work a day in his life, not at any job, if he doesn't want to. As far as his parents know, he's blissfully unemployed. They don't care what he does. As long as he's happy, they'll just keep on sending the cheques.

“I like him,” Misha says and that surprises Jensen, a little. Not that Misha likes Jared, because that wouldn't be hard, but that sounded a little like permission. Not that Jensen was asking for it.

“Whatever,” Jensen says, sitting up straighter again and putting his feet back on the floor. “Like I said, it was just some fun.”

Misha doesn't look like he quite believes him so Jensen changes the subject. He grabs the second game controller from the coffee table and hits the start button.

“Care to save yourself the embarrassment and just blow me now?” Misha asks, blinking innocently.

“You wish, asshole,” Jensen shoots back and elbows Misha in the side. “I can already feel your lips around my cock, man.”

Misha pauses for a moment to look at Jensen, really look at him and Jensen can’t help the shiver that runs through him. Dude is intense, that's for sure. “I never lose unless I want to,” Misha tells him and Jensen swallows as the game commences.

No, Misha never does. And he loses a lot. It may sound like a weird standing bet for a couple of hooker pals – sexual favours – but it’s an excuse for both of them, a way to play down the fact that they both sometimes like a little more than what they get from strangers. They like their jobs, they do, but that kind of work doesn’t make their love lives very easy. Plus, they're both a little needy and Misha is a hard guy to quit.

Jensen's been trying.

Misha loses again half an hour later and about thirty seconds after that he’s on the floor on his knees in front of Jensen, sucking Jensen’s dick down his throat.

It’s a pretty good start to the day, Jensen thinks, as he makes a note to tuck a few Viagra into his pocket.

***

Jared opens up the plastic case and runs the hand scanner over the barcode in the centre, between the two reels of tape. His computer beeps, MALLRATS pops up on the screen beside the customer's name and phone number in bright orange letters against the grey-black background. CHECKOUT: 06/06/1998 DUE: 06/07/1998.

“Due back tomorrow at 5,” he tells the customer, snapping the case shut and handing the tape over the counter.

The man (Rob is his name and he's twenty-six, kind of cute in that socially inept, 'I live in my parents' basement and don't own a comb' way) smiles and gives Jared an awkward sort of salute.

“See you then,” he agrees, turning. He nearly trips on the door jam on his way out of the store and Jared snorts, shakes his head and goes over to grab a bag of popcorn from the machine in the corner, set up there so the customers can snack as they browse.

It's a pretty big video store, Trendz. They've got thousands of movies, rows and rows of every different genre and style but for some reason Jared is unaware of, Rob Benedict insists on watching the same damn movie every Friday night.

He's been doing it since Jared started working here, six months ago and Chad says it's been a lot longer than that. Jared likes Chad. He's two years younger than Jared, still in high school but he's a decent guy, funny and he makes work more bearable. He's probably Jared's best friend, these days. He hasn't a chance to make very many of them since he moved out of his old bedroom.

He still keeps in touch with his high school friends a little, mostly through email when he get to a library to use a computer but he doesn't talk to them much and he hasn't seen them since graduation.

“I don't know why he doesn't just buy the damn movie,” Chad says, snatching a handful of Jared's popcorn when he gets back behind the front counter. It's late, past eleven thirty and there's nobody else in the store. “It'd be way cheaper and he wouldn't have to bother coming in here every week.”

Jared shrugs and tosses a kernel into the air, catches it in his mouth easily and smiles a goofy, proud smile back at Chad.

“I think he likes coming here. Gives him something to do. I get the impression he doesn't have a lot of friends.”

“Yeah, he seems... I don't know. Bookish. Like maybe he sits around in his bathroom all day writing the next great novel, or whatever.”

“Hmm,” Jared agrees. “Or maybe he's some kind of computer genius, holed up his basement with these big huge machines all along the walls, all lights and buttons and beeps and shit. Maybe he's an evil computer genius.”

Jared tosses another kernel in the air and catches that one as well.

“Or,” Chad says after a beat, “maybe he's a serial killer. Maybe he strikes on Friday nights and we're his alibi.”

“Maybe he's Batman.”

They're both silent for a second before they burst out laughing.

“Whatever. He's weird, but I kinda like him.”

“Yeah,” Chad says. Jared notices him watching as he grabs the broom out of the back room and Chad raises an eyebrow when Jared starts to sweep up the floor, without even being asked. Jared's a good worker, does what he's supposed to when he's supposed to. He's always polite to the customers, smiles and says 'have a nice day' and he even cleans the bathrooms without complaint when it's his turn on the schedule.

But the store is huge and people are slobs and the racks are a bitch to reach under and Jared hates sweeping. He always tries to trade with someone else, pleads and whines and uses the puppy eyes, because as far as Jared's concerned, it's the worst part of the job.

Not today, though. Today it doesn't seem like such a chore. Today Jared's been smiling through his duties since he walked through the door and one look at his best friend tells Jared that Chad's definitely noticed.

“Yeah, you kind of like everything, today. What the hell's gotten into you?”

Jared snickers a little at Chad's wording – he knows exactly what's 'gotten into him' and he'd like to get it into him again, as soon as possible.

“Oh my god,” Chad says, after a beat. “You got laid!”

Jared's smile grows as he sweeps behind the ficus in the corner. He doesn't confirm Chad's guess, but he doesn't have to.

“You totally got laid. Was it that hooker you've had a boner for since you started here?”

Jared flushes a little and gives a small nod. “Yeah. God, Chad it was amazing.”

“Was it? And what's the going rate for amazing these days?” It's teasing, not mean but Jared flinches a little anyway at the reminder that what he shared with Jensen was nothing more than a business transaction. Okay, so maybe it was a little more. “I'm surprised you could afford it.”

“It wasn't... I mean, yeah, I paid him, but... I don't think he did it for the money.”

Chad looks at him then, tilts his head and his eyes go soft and pitying and he sighs.

“Aw, Jared. No, man. Be careful. Don't let yourself think it was more than it was. And don't let yourself fall for him.”

“You don't... It's not like that. I'm not... I'm not falling for him.” Which is true enough, really. Jared already fell, a long time ago. Chad obviously isn't buying it, though.

“I'm serious. He's not gonna fall in love with you and then quit working the streets so you can support him on your minimum wage plus all the free movie rentals and popcorn you want. This isn't a fairy tale.”

“I know that,” Jared snaps. He does know that. Except, he can't deny that somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that's exactly what's going to happen. Maybe he'll get Jensen a job at the video store, too. That, plus he knows Jensen also works part time at Trader Joe's, he saw him there once and surely if they moved in together and pooled all their money they could afford some place a little nicer than Jared's apartment and... Chad's still looking at him like Jared's a special breed of pathetic moron.

Now his good mood is just about shot to hell. And he's stuck sweeping, which sucks now more than it ever has.

“I know that. I just mean... I gave the guy eighty-three bucks. Eighty-three bucks, that's it. And he spent the whole night with me. I know he's not gonna run away with me or anything, but... but that's gotta mean something, right?”

“I guess, yeah, maybe,” Chad concedes. Then his tone changes and his smile grows brighter again. “So. How big's his dick?”

***

Jared lives two blocks from the video store in a one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a highrise building. He lives two blocks west but when his shift is over that night he heads east, toward the convenience store, to the corner Jensen where works.

Jensen isn't there. Neither is Misha. Two of the girls are there, though. The brunette and the readhead, but he doesn't see the blonde around anywhere, either. Jared hopes she's at home, getting some rest. Too many late nights probably aren't good for the baby. Then again, neither are all the cigarettes she smokes, so.

Jared offers the two girls an awkward sort of smile and he goes into the store to say hi to AJ and pick up a free carton of expired milk for his coffee and cereal in the morning.

The next day he has to cut dinner at his sister's house short because he gets called in to work an evening shift at Star. He spends the entire night looking out the window, but Jensen doesn't show up at all. The blonde is there tonight, another guy – Jared's only seen him a couple of times, shorter than Jensen with dark hair, like Misha, skinny, but it looks good on him. The blonde leaves with a guy in purple Pinto and doesn't come back. The guy disappears around the corner with a man in a baseball cap for half an hour, then again a while later with a guy who looks like he's about ninety.

By the time Jared's shift is over nobody is left on the corner and Jared fights the sinking feeling in his gut and the fleeting thought that maybe he'd imagined Jensen completely.

***

The third day though, he has the evening off. He worked the afternoon shift at Trendz and he doesn't have a shift at Star for another few days, but he stops by there anyway late in the evening, hoping to see Jensen.

He's disappointed at first; Jensen's not on the corner. Nobody is. Jared frowns and slows down, stops a few doors down from the store and he's about to turn around and go home when something catches the corner of his eye.

It's Jensen, Jared can see him through the window of a donut shop, head thrown back and laughing. He's sitting at a table across from Misha, with a cup of coffee in front of him. Jared stop and stares, smiles at Jensen's smile and he doesn't realise he's kind of zoned out for a minute there, watching the long line of Jensen's neck and the way it pulses when he swallows until there's a knocking on the glass in front of him. He starts and blinks and Jensen is frowning at him, waving at him slowly, like he's checking to see if Jared's gone blind or if he's sleepwalking or suffered some kind of brain damage.

Jared tries to smile at him, but it comes out more like a wince. Misha laughs and Jensen motions for Jared to join them inside, so Jared does.

“Hey, Jared,” Jensen greets him, when Jared walks up to their table. He stands for a moment, awkwardly wringing his hands. He's nervous. He doesn't know why. He's had sex with this guy. Really long, really wild, really great fucking sex with this guy. He's been looking for him, hoping to see him for the past two days and now that he's sitting right there, right in front of him, Jared doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say or how to say it or how to even start.

“Sit,” Jensen says, making at least that decision easy for him.

He sits in the seat next to Jensen and Jensen nudges the box of donuts on the table a little closer to him.

“Donut?”

“Thanks,” Jared says, snagging a raised chocolate. They're his favourite. Not that he's really ever met a donut he doesn't like, but raised chocolate are his favourite. “So how uh... how are you? I haven't seen you around.”

Misha snickers and Jensen shoots him a look before turning back to Jared.

“I'm good,” he answers, giving Jared a warm smile. “Just kickin' Misha's ass in a little Hangman.”

He nods toward the table and it's then that Jared notices a pen and a small pad of paper, little stick man hanging from a gallows with the phrase “I AM SPARTACUS” scribbled on the top page.

“That's a blatant lie,” Misha counters. “You clearly cheated.”

“By being smarter than you?”

“You kept licking your lips. You hypnotized me with your wiles. I couldn't think straight.”

“Good one,” Jensen says, rolling his eyes. “Best to just face it – I'm better than you. At so... many... things.”

“Hmm,” Misha answers, clearly not convinced and Jared doesn't like that, doesn't like the way they're so easy, so familiar with each other when Misha's noticing things like the way Jensen's lips look, because that's Jared's job, Jared wants to notice those lips and Misha can just keep his grubby mitts off his man, damnit!

Wow, okay. That was a little bit insane, Jared realises that.

“Can I play?” Jared asks. Jensen chuckles a little, but reaches for the pen and paper and starts to draw out some spaces for letters to go in.

“Shoot,” he says.

After Jared's lost three rounds in a row he has to conclude that Misha was right; Jensen does cheat. Except it's not the way that Jensen's licking his lips that has Jared distracted, it's the way his fingers keep sliding up and down the length of the pen, how his nails dig softly into the squishy gel at the grip and how the tips slowly drag over the shaft.

Jared swallows and stutters and looks back to his nearly blank page, where Jensen is cheerily illustrating the hanged man's left hand. The game is over and Jared hadn't even realised.

“Told you,” Misha says. Jared blushes and Jensen smiles, laughs but if Jared's not entirely mistaken, there's a small flush creeping over his cheeks as well. Jensen puts the pen back down on top of the pad and takes another sip from his coffee and the way his lashes flutter when he looks down makes Jared's chest tickle.

Misha clears his throat and they both look up. “I think I'll head out.”

“Hang on,” Jensen tells him, patting his pockets, presumably to make sure he's got his wallet and keys. “I'll come with.”

“No need,” Misha says. “I'll catch up with you later.”

Jensen just shrugs, but he stands up anyway and Jared starts to panic, wants to tell Jensen no, stay, please because he hasn't even gotten a chance to really talk to him yet, to ask if and when and how often he can see him again. But Jensen doesn't leave.

“Yeah, okay. Later,” he says, then grabs his empty coffee mug when Misha walks away. “I need another though. You want?”

“Uh... sure, okay. Thanks.”

A minute later Jensen's back, with two mugs of coffee and a handful of sugar and creamer packets. Jensen drinks his coffee black, but Jared happily takes one cream and three sugars. Late at night, he likes it a little sweeter.

“Thanks,” he says again.

“No worries. Not working tonight?”

Jared shakes his head. “Afternoon today. What about you? I mean, are you working tonight?” Then it strikes him what that might sound like and his eyes go wide before he continues. “I didn't mean... I mean I'm not looking for... you know. That. I was just...” he breaks off lamely and waves his
hand around. “Making conversation.”

Jensen laughs again, that same infectious laugh that makes Jared's insides turn to jelly and he smiles, even if he feels like a bit of an idiot.

“I was,” Jensen tells him. “Figure I'm done for the night, though.”

“Cool,” Jared says, nodding. Then, “Listen do you, you know... date? At all?”

He sounds like a little kid asking for a pony, voice all full of nervous hope and guarded against the strong possibility of rejection. But while that possibility is strong, it isn't absolute, so Jared feels like he has to try.

Jensen lets out a soft sigh and he briefly closes his eyes. When he opens them again Jared's heart sinks.

“No,” Jensen says.

Jared nods, taking his lower lip between his teeth. He'd expected as much.

“I figured,” Jared says. He wonders if Jensen has a boss, if there are rules he needs to follow. He knows very little about prostitution besides what he's seen in Pretty Woman. “But why? Are you... not allowed to, or...?”

Jensen lets out a short burst of laughter, shaking his head.

“It's not like that. This isn't a sad movie. I don't have a pimp shaking me down at the end of the night for fifty percent or anything. This is... free enterprise. I can do whatever I want, but dating... Jared, it's not a good idea. It gets complicated.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience,” Jared points out, but Jensen doesn't answer.

“It's just a bad idea.”

No means no, Jared understands that. The last thing he wants to do is push, he doesn't want to pressure anybody into something they don't want to do, but damn, look at Jensen, sitting there all handsome and warm with those beautiful, beautiful eyes. Jared wants him. He wants to be with him any way he can, pay for now, if he has to and take advantage of any and all freebies Jensen's willing to throw his way and then maybe, somewhere down the road, Jensen will realise how perfect they are for each other and he'll fall in love with Jared and...

Shit, Chad was right. He needs to be careful.

“Fair enough,” he says. “But can I...” He pauses and picks up one of the empty sugar packets, crinkles the paper between his fingers. “If I have money, can we? You know...”

“Fuck?” Jensen offers, cracking a small smile.

Jared screws up his face.

“I was gonna say 'be together', but yeah, okay, maybe there'd be fucking. I don't have a lot of money, you know that, but if I do... if I save up again, or...”

“Jared...” Jensen starts, letting out a slow breath. It's not a yes. It's not a no, though so Jared keeps trying.

“I know, okay?” he says. “I know the money I gave you wasn’t enough. I don’t even know why you let me get away with it. But I know. So, tell me. How much do I need next time? I’ll get it. It might take a while, but I’ll get it.”

“Jared, don’t. You’ve got better things to spend your money on.”

“I get to choose how I spend my money, Jensen,” Jared tells him, and he says it with such a soft smile that Jensen smiles back.

“Fine,” Jensen answers. “You want to save up, waste your grocery money on a quick hand job in the alley, I'm not going to stop you.”

His words sting a little, but he's still smiling softly at Jared, trying to make it a joke so Jared jokes back.

“Just a hand job?”

“I'd be out of business in no time if I kept charging you the rates I did the other night. Hand job is all you can really afford.”

Yeah, probably not even that, Jared thinks. But he'll take it.

“Well...” Jensen adds, after some mock consideration. “Maybe a blow job.”

Jared's smile grows with the wink Jensen shoots his way and he wraps his fingers around his coffee mug to keep from reaching across the table to take Jensen's hand.

“Deal. I don't have any money right now, but when I do...”

“Come find me whenever you like, Jared. We’ll work it out. But if you’re interested, you don’t need money to be my friend.”

Jared nods and brings his mug up to lips, tips it back and finishes off his drink. He supposes he could take Jensen up on that offer. It would definitely get him closer to Jensen, give him the chance to spend more time with him, like this, drinking coffee and playing Hangman, maybe going out to see a movie or grabbing some pizza.

It might be nice. It would be nice. But it's also dangerous, puts him in the 'friend' zone and when he's there it's a lot harder to transition to what he really wants from Jensen. He gets that Jensen isn't really in a position to give more than that at the moment, but Jared's not really in a position to give less.

If he was Jensen's friend, all he'd be thinking about was the possibility of being Jensen's lawfully wedded husband and he doesn't want to start their (hopefully future long-term) relationship off on a lie.

He wants to be Jensen's boyfriend in the short term, stupid as that probably sounds. He's pretty sure he's in love with Jensen already, and he wants to be his boyfriend.

He hears what Jensen is saying to him, understands that he's guarded, jaded and there's probably a reason for that but in the end, Jared doesn't really care. He's in love. He's young and he's stupid and love right now is selfish and greedy but that doesn't change the fact that he really is in love with Jensen. He wants more than friendship, wants more than to sit next to him and pretend that he's okay with casual glances and sharing a box of donuts when Jared knows he'll do nothing but want more.

Jensen deserves the truth, deserves to know that Jared will accept nothing short of eventual commitment.

Sex is a big part of that. It fosters intimacy, deeper emotions. Jared's always had a hard time separating the two. He knows that Jensen probably doesn't have the same hang-ups, what with the whole sleeping with people for a living thing, but he already knows Jensen likes him so he's hoping to change his mind. Where Jared's concerned, at least.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Jensen,” he says, when he puts the cup back down. “I want to be so much more than that.”

***

Jensen's honestly surprised Jared holds out for as long as he does.

A full month goes by before Jared approaches him for anything other than polite small talk. They've passed by each other on the street, smiled and waved and Jared sometimes stops to chat on his way to work or when he's on break, but never for very long. Jared usually has somewhere to be and when he doesn't, Jensen does.

Jensen's not disappointed exactly, except... yeah, okay, he's a little disappointed. He knows what he told Jared, about dating not being a good idea and he'd meant it. It's a really very spectacularly bad idea. He'd also meant what he'd said about being friends, though. He likes Jared, he wouldn't mind spending a little more time with Jared but he can't get serious right now.

And that kid has 'committed, long-term relationship' written all over him.

He can ignore that tiny spark of excitement, that low burn of possibility when Jared stops to ask if he's tried the new hot dog vendor a few streets over or tell Jensen about some cheesy old movie he watched at work. He can ignore the sting of defeat when Jared walks away again, without propositioning him.

The more time he spends with Jared, the more he likes him. There's a spark there, undeniable and it was lit months ago. It keeps getting bigger every time they talk, every time Jared smiles and blushes and tells him a story about high school basketball or summers spent camping with his family or a the drunk guy who always pisses out the window of the number 41 bus.

Jensen's not short on friends, he doesn't really need another but he finds himself looking forward to those stray few minutes with Jared every other day. Finds himself hoping each time that it'll turn into more than that.

So yeah, Jensen's maybe a little disappointed but it's probably for the best. He wasn't lying when he said that Jared has better things to spend his money on. Better things than Jensen, and better things than sex. He knows where Jared lives. He’s seen the kid go into his building a few times, and he’s noticed that Jared only seems to have one pair of jeans. Not that Jensen’s been paying attention to that sort of thing.

And Jensen would accuse Jared of playing it a little too cool, except for the fact that Jared watches, the same as he's always watched. He watches Jensen walk away with people, he watches him get in and out of cars, watches him smoke and laugh and pass a flask back and forth with Misha and Matt and sometimes the girls.

He can feel Jared's eyes on him every time, same as before. He likes it, he does but it's not really enough.

Wednesdays are what really get him through, though.

Every Wednesday, same as before, Jared takes his break at ten-thirty and peeks through the back window of the convenience store, to the alley behind.

Jared watches Jensen stand and wait and Jensen watches him right back. Jared watches as Jake shows up, watches the kid smile and toe at the ground and they both watch Jake sink to his knees and swallow Jensen down. Jensen watches Jared's eyes grow hooded as Jensen's hips snap forward, watches Jared lick his lips when Jensen's hands grab Jake's head to hold it still as he fucks into it slow and easy, the way he knows Jake loves.

Jared watches Jensen watch him right back and when Jensen comes down Jake's throat, it's Jared's name on his lips, even if no sound comes out.

Jared watches that, too.

It's been five weeks since they slept together, since Jensen gave into the crazy impulse to let his heart make the decisions and he spent the night with someone he was genuinely attracted to. Since he took Jared home, for fun masquerading as work. It's five weeks until Jared comes to him again, looking just as nervous and unsure as the first time, even though he already knows the answer.

It's a Friday. He knows Jared works until midnight at the video store on Fridays (and no, he's not stalking Jared, it just came up in conversation is all) and since it's the third Friday of the month Jensen's planning on calling it an early night. The third Friday of the month is usually when he has his monthly date with city councilman Mark Sheppard. Or more accurately, councilman Sheppard's wife.

He gets picked up about nine, like usual. And like usual, he's dropped back off on the corner by eleven and after that pay day he really doesn't need to stick around for any possible foot traffic. It's usually pretty dead after midnight or so anyway.

He waits and watches for Sheppard's limo to pull around the corner and out of sight before he kisses Genevieve on the cheek and tells her to keep an eye on Katie. Katie tells him to fuck off, she can take care of herself and she ambles her seven month pregnant body up off the front stoop of a real estate agent's office. She punches him in the arm. It hurts and he winces and then kisses her as well before he starts toward the twenty-four hour grocery store a block and a half down.

There are usually several taxis in the parking lot and Jensen doesn't feel like waiting around the apartment to call for one.

He doesn't quite make it there though, when he runs into Jared. Well, more like Jared runs into him. Literally runs, right into him.

“Shit, sorry!” he says. “Jensen, hi. I mean... I was just coming to... I got off work early. Somebody shot through the window, so the cops came by and shut the place down for the night. It was crazy, man. Anyway. I thought I'd try to catch you, before you went home. Uh... are you? Going home?”

Jared looks to Jensen and then in the direction of the apartment Jensen had taken him to, the opposite direction to which he's walking. Jensen's not ready to have that conversation yet so he doesn't answer at all.

“Why?” he asks, with an overly seductive smirk. “Lookin' for a date, hot stuff?”

Jared frowns. “Don't...” He stops and lets out a breath, then the lines around his eyes smooth out. “I guess I am, yeah. Do you want to... go to your place, or... or we could go to mine? I mean, if you're not busy. If you're not... off duty, or whatever.”

Jensen's smile turns from come-hither to honest in a heartbeat. Fuck, Jared's earnestness is contagious and Jensen still thinks this whole thing is an epically fucking stupid idea, but Jesus Christ, Jared's face. He's so damn beautiful it's really not fair.

If Jensen was a romantic man, he’d have said that he’d fallen hopelessly for Jared that first day they talked, when Jared commented on the weather. He’s not, thank God, so he’s just going to blame his poor decision making on the fact that Jared is gorgeous and goofy and makes him feel like a person instead of a cock-for-hire.

“Let's go to my place,” Jensen says.

“I don't have much,” Jared tells him.

Jensen steps closer, reaches out and takes Jared's chin between his thumb and finger. He tilts Jared's face down a little and leans up to kiss him, a soft, brief peck and then he pulls back, grinning.

“Let's go to my place.”

When they get there, after Jensen shuts and locks the door behind them, he backs Jared up against it, leans in close. His face hovers over Jared's for a moment and Jensen pauses to enjoy the way Jared's heart is hammering in his chest, beating against Jensen's, the way Jared breathes in rapid and shallow and the way he licks his lips, nervous anticipation.

Jared likes it when Jensen takes control, he learned that last time. Probably because he wants every opportunity he can get to pretend that he's not paying Jensen for it. If Jensen's the pursuer, if he's the one coming after Jared and taking what he wants, then Jared can pretend this is something else, something it's not.

And Jensen is very good at his job, but he's not that good. When he cups the side of Jared's face in his hand, when he leans in and takes Jared's bottom lip between his teeth, when he pulls back with a soft chuckle and rubs his nose back and forth across Jared's before he breaks it off and steps away, laughing – he means it.

Jared groans at the loss, at the tease, whimpering a little as he leans forward to chase after Jensen, but he's laughing, too so Jensen doesn't feel too bad about it.

“What do you want?” Jensen asks him, reminding them both that this is business. Supposed to be business.

“Uh. What can I get for...” He reaches into his pocket and comes out with a measly fist full of crumpled up bills and some loose change. “Forty-six fifty?”

Jensen laughs. He gives in to the urge to kiss the embarrassed look right off Jared's face and he laughs. He takes the money Jared offers him and tosses it down on the kitchen table.

“A back rub,” he tells Jared. Honestly, any clients that get back rubs out of Jensen are usually paying him a whole lot of money. Jared doesn't need to know that, though.

“I'll take it,” Jared says, immediately. “That sounds pretty amazing, actually.”

Now that Jensen's really listening for it, Jared does sound a little tired, a little worn down. The poor kid works sixty hours a week and he's on his feet for all of them.

Whereas Jensen works about fifteen hours a week and he spends most of them in bed.

“Come on,” Jensen says, gesturing toward the bed. “Strip. Lie down.”

Jared does, while Jensen grabs some of the body oil from the cabinet in the kitchen. When he crosses the room again to the bed, Jared's naked and half-lying awkwardly on his side, looking up at Jensen expectantly.

Jensen smiles and bends down, kisses Jared once and then puts a hand on his shoulder, gently turning him so he's face down.

He straddles Jared and pours some oil onto his hands, rubs them together to warm it up and then starts to work on Jared's shoulders. Jared lets out a long, drawn out moan and he slumps, like any lingering apprehension leaves his body all at once.

“Fuuuuck yeah,” he says, almost a low whisper and Jensen rubs him harder, longer strokes of his thumb up under and around his shoulder blades and across the outsides of his ribs. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Jensen can't help but lean down to kiss the soft skin along Jared's spine as he works his way down, over the tense muscles of his lower back and further. He works the stiffness out of Jared's entire back and over his ass and then starts down his legs. By the time he gets to Jared's feet nearly an hour later, Jared's a whimpering, floppy mess.

Jensen works his way back up Jared's body, quicker this time and he hovers overs over Jared's body with his weight braced on his arms so he can whisper into Jared's ear, “How's that?”

“Mmmm,” is Jared's answer and Jensen takes it as a compliment.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Jensen's voice is pitched low, a soft, seductive grumble that tickles the back of Jared's neck.

The tenor of Jared's groan changes then, less lazy satisfaction, more desire. His hips buck forward into the mattress and Jensen smiles and kisses behind Jared's ear.

“Last call. Anything else, Jared?”

“Mmmm. Really?” Jared sounds surprised. Or, as surprised as he's capable of, when he's boneless and relaxed like this.

“Really,” Jensen smiles. “But you gotta tell me what you want. This is your dime, remember. And I can't read your mind.”

Jared's hips buck forward again and Jensen eases off of him, sits on the edge of the bed with his hand resting on Jared's hip. He'd like to have sex with Jared. He honestly would like to but he's not going to start anything he's not absolutely sure Jared wants. Like he said, it's Jared's dime, he gets to make the calls.

Jared rolls slightly, almost to his side but then he gives up, flops back down onto this front. He lifts one leg though, bends it at the knee to spread himself open as far as he can manage.

“Like this,” he says, gasping when he rolls his hips once more, his cock pushing against Jensen's blanket. It's smooth, silky, feels good against your skin and Jared's cock is probably hard by now, but he can't see. He lets his hand drag over Jared's ass between his legs, slides his palm over Jared's heavy balls and lets his fingers wander forward, up along the base of Jared's indeed very hard shaft.

“You want me to fuck you?” Jensen needs Jared to be clear on this.

“Mmhmm,” Jared says, mostly into the pillow. “Like this. I don't think I can move, so you're gonna have to do all the work.”

Jensen lets out a low chuckle and grabs a condom from the table.

“Just relax,” he tells Jared. “I think I can handle that.”

He rolls the condom down over his cock, spreads some of the body oil onto his fingers and works them into Jared's hole, stretches him as slow and easy as he'd worked over Jared's entire body and when he finally slides inside Jensen's so revved up that he has to recite baseball box scores in his head to keep from coming right away.

It's been a damn long time since he's had that particular problem at work.

Jensen still doesn't last very long, but neither does Jared, so he doesn't feel too bad about it. Jensen finds Jared's prostate and keeps on nailing it, hoping to take him as close to the edge as Jensen is. It works a little too well. Jared's orgasm seems to take them both by surprise. He comes, gasping and screaming and all over Jensen's bed, without Jensen ever once touching his cock and Jensen follows shortly after.

Jensen takes a few deep breaths and eases out slowly, manages to successfully roll a completely fucked out Jared onto his back, so he can look him over.

He's sweaty and exhausted and his dick is still hard and wet from his orgasm. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at Jensen, gives him a lazy, sated smile.

It's the most beautiful thing Jensen's ever seen in his life.

Fuck, he's in trouble.

***

Two weeks later he's standing on the corner with Matt and Julie, in the middle of a rousing game of twenty questions when Jared walks right up to him and smiles. It's Thursday, which means there's a good chance Lauren is going to come looking for him. She has her weekly meetings with her witch of a boss on Thursdays and by the end of the day she's usually wound pretty tight. Jensen's very, very good at taking care of that.

Lauren's a little twisted, in some of the ways that Jensen likes, but she doesn't pay as well as some of his customers and he'd much rather spend some time with Jared anyway, if he's got the option.

“Lonely tonight, sweetie?” Julie asks, stepping out from under Jensen's arm and reaching out to touch the side of Jared's face.

Julie kind of creeps Jensen out sometimes, if he's being honest. She's a great girl, but she doesn't play this the way most hookers do. The things she says are crude, but the way she says them is anything but. She's looking up at Jared, thumb stroking over his cheekbone like she's sorry for him, like she's honestly sorry that Jared might be feeling lonely and she'd like to help him out with that.

She'd make a better shrink than a hooker, really. If only she could afford college.

Hell, her and Misha should start their own business. They could go legit easy.

Jared seems caught up in her spell at first – they all do, once Julie gets her hands on them – but he shakes it off after only a few seconds and smiles at her, apologetically.

Fuck, Jared feels guilty for turning down a hooker. Has Jensen mentioned how fucking adorable he is lately?

“No, I... Well, yeah. But...” He blushes (Jensen will never get tired of that, not ever) and looks over at Jensen. “Could we... do you think...?”

“How much you got?” Jensen asks, smirking slightly as he leans forward and snakes a finger into Jared's pocket.

Jared's blush deepens and he glances at Matt and Julie before he looks back to Jensen, uncertain.

“Right,” Jensen says. “Let's talk details.”

He throws an arm over Jared's shoulders and leads him away, hears Matt say something about 'new boyfriend' to Julie and he frowns at that, but shakes it off.

Jared tells him he has twenty seven dollars and Jensen fucks him in the bathroom of Jared's convenience store.

He's back on the corner in time to meet Lauren, half an hour later.

***

A week later Jared hands Jensen eleven bucks and Jensen blows him in the alley out back.

***

A week after that Jared presses nineteen dollars into Jensen's fist and asks Jensen to take him home.

It's kind of forward, Jared knows that. He's not sure how Jensen's going to react, given the past two times they were together it seemed like Jensen was trying to put a little bit of distance between them, but Jared knows what he wants and he knows the only way to get it is to ask for it.

Jensen looks uncertain at first, just for a second but then he nods and smiles and stuffs the money into his pocket.

“We won't be long,” he says, turning to look at Misha, who's standing next to him. Misha looks at Jensen with a smile, his eyes are laughing and Jared really, unreasonably doesn't like him.

“No, of course not,” Misha agrees. “It's nice to see you, Jared.”

Jared blinks and frowns and he opens his mouth to answer, but Jensen must be paying attention because he turns Jared before he can, takes his hand and kisses it and leads Jared away.

When they get back to Jensen's apartment, Jared's in a bad mood.

He doesn't know why, not really. Sure, Misha always seems like he's a little too interested in Jensen, but Jensen is a hooker, a lot of people are too interested in Jensen for Jared's comfort.

Jared knows all this, Jared's really pretty fine with all this, usually. Today though, it's bothering him, gnawing at him and turning his mood dark.

“I don't want to fuck,” Jared says, as Jensen locks the door.

Jensen turns on him slowly, brow raised.

“Nobody said you had to,” Jensen tells him. “But you're the one who shoved your spare change in my pocket.”

“It's not my...” Jared starts, even angrier now that Jensen's not just falling down at his feet and telling Jared how much he loves him. He knows that's a fucked up fantasy, he knows that but there's a part of him that wanted Jensen to turn around and punch Misha in the face, for... making fun of Jared, or whatever that was. “It's not spare. I don't have spare change. I have money that I'm not going to spend on groceries and long distance to my folks.”

Jared watches Jensen's face pinch and immediately feels guilty. It's not Jensen's fault that Jared's throwing every spare cent Jensen's way. He'd like it to be, but it's not.

Jensen steps closer to Jared, cups his hand over Jared's ribs and Jared flinches and steps back.

“I'm sorry,” Jensen says. “I didn't...”

“Look, just forget it. I don't want to fuck, I don't... Maybe I should go.” He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to give up on Jensen and he hates himself for acting the way he is. Like a jealous boyfriend.

“You can do that, if you want. I won't stop you. I'll even give you your money back. But I'd like it if you'd stay.”

“Would you?” Jared challenges. “Would you really like that, or are you just hoping to get paid?”

God, what is wrong with him? He knows he's being stupid, being an asshole, but he's on edge and he can't shake it.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't say that,” Jensen says, taking Jared's hand and pulling him forward when Jared lets him. “Because I know you know how ridiculous that is. But it's up to you. We're already here, but it's up to you.”

Jared feels like a scolded school boy, knowing he's in the wrong but desperately clinging to his temper tantrum ideals.

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asks.

“Water,” Jensen says. Then he taps the side of the fridge. “Milk. Beer. Guava juice.”

That gets a smile out of Jared.

“Really?”

“No,” Jensen admits. “No, not really. But milk or beer, if you want.”

Jared doesn't even need to think about it.

“Beer,” he says. Then, “Please.”

Jensen opens the fridge, grabs two bottles and opens then both, passes one to Jared and takes a swig from the other.

Jared's twitchy, uncomfortable and he wants to leave but he doesn't want to. If he was in charge of his emotions, his desires, he'd walk right out the door and never think about a hooker named Jensen ever again. He can't do that, though. He's stuck on Jensen, can't shake loose. And if Jensen would just acknowledge that, would just admit that he knows how Jared feels, tell Jared he maybe feels a little of it back, Jared would be fine.

He wouldn't be jealous anymore, would let go of his irrational dislike toward Misha, because he'd know then. He'd know Jensen cared for him, that Jensen wanted to be with him. He'd be different than all those other guys.

Jared's finished half the bottle when Jensen takes it from him, places it on the table next to his own full one.

“So what do you want to do, then? You want to talk?”

“Not really,” Jared snaps.

Jensen nods like he understands.

“You want to join me on the bed? I think I need to sit for a while.”

Jensen doesn't wait for Jared's answer, just sprawls out on the bed with his back propped up against the headboard. He cocks his head in invitation and Jared crawls in beside him, tucks himself up under Jensen's arm.

“I like you,” Jared says, whispers the words into Jensen's chest. “I know what this is, I know what it isn't, but I like you.”

He holds his breath, waits for Jensen's answer.

“Logan's Run is my favourite movie,” Jensen tells him. It's not an answer, it's not what Jared was hoping to hear, but it's something. It's something personal and Jared smiles and buries his face into Jensen's chest.

“Okay,” Jared says. “Maybe I do want to fuck.”

Jensen kisses the top of his head and puts a hand on his chest.

“What do you want?”

Jared works his pants open, pulls the zipper down and places Jensen's hand on his cock. He's still not exactly in the mood, but touching Jensen always makes him feel better.

“This,” he says and he works his own hand down Jensen's pants, too. They pull, jerk and tug and slide until they're both gasping softly and making a mess. It's quiet, pleasant but underwhelming and then Jared falls asleep.

He wakes to Jensen nuzzling his neck and Jared moans, stretches into the touch and Jensen lets him shower before he kicks him out. Well, Jensen doesn't really kick him out, because Jensen goes with him, walks him all the way home at three in the morning and kisses him goodnight at the door to his building.

Part 2