Exhibition (Part 1)

[raeschae]

Morning Coffee Break
Lust

While it's not exactly everything he ever wanted in a career, Jared doesn't really mind the way his life has turned out. This coffee shop is the hub of community activity, so he stays up-to-date on what's going on while being able to interact with pretty much everyone who lives in, or passes through, town.

It's pretty cool to be the guy who hands out that first, precious shot of caffeine in the morning, or the one who helps sober them up before they head home on Saturday night. Yeah, he works a lot, but he has a lot of student loans and credit card debt to pay down while he's looking for a real job. Sam, the owner of the coffee shop, goes way back with his mom and she's letting Jared live upstairs for free. She also lets him use his employee discount at the deli she owns next door, so food doesn't cost much when he's not raiding his parents' fridge for groceries.

Aside from the upkeep on his truck – already paid off as a gift for his college graduation – Jared dedicates the majority of his paychecks to the loans and he should be debt free in a couple of years. Some people would probably see it as charity, or even a hand-out, but Jared is grateful for everything Sam has done for him since he moved back home a few months ago.

“Are we late?”

With an amused smile, Jared shakes his head and finishes rinsing the blender from his last order while Sophia and Danneel situate their chairs near the front window of the shop. At least Danneel brought her laptop this time; they usually make no excuses for the staring and ogling they do every morning between nine thirty and ten o'clock.

Jared isn't naïve enough to believe that the coffee is why they come in every morning, and he knows it's not his charming personality, either.

At nine twenty-eight, Sam comes out of her office and slides behind the counter with Jared. “Did I miss anything?”

Rolling his eyes, he pulls Sam's iced vanilla chai latte from the refrigerator and tries not to look fidgety. It's not like he's not waiting for the same damn thing, but if they add many more spectators to this peanut gallery, it's going to start looking suspicious. Well, more suspicious than three grown women and an over-gown man staring out the window for thirty minutes every morning already is.

See, there's this art gallery across the street. More accurately, there is this studio above the art gallery across the street. Even more to the point, there's this artist who rents the studio above the art gallery across the street. His name is Jensen, and when he steps in front of the window at nine thirty sharp and peels his white tee shirt over his head, there's a definite smirk on his lips. There is no doubt in Jared's mind that he knows they're all watching in rapt attention down here.

Sophia lets out a low, appreciative whistle when Jensen stretches his arms above his head and starts nodding his head to whatever music he listens to while he works. Danneel bounces in her seat and growls. While Sam doesn't say anything at Jared's side, she does shake her head and catch her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Sweet Jesus, that body is not fair,” Danneel sighs, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

Sophia nods and tips over, her head on Danneel's shoulder. “That ass alone should be illegal.”

Jared is too busy trying not to drool all over himself to join in the conversation. He's not sure where Jensen gets those jeans that ride so low on his hips they're nearly obscene, but he's sure as fuck glad he finds them somewhere. Sophia is not wrong; Jensen's ass is out of control. Just like his shoulders, his back, and that tan line on his hips when he stretches his arms and his jeans slip down ever so slightly.

Okay, so maybe Jared stares a little more intently than he likes to let on. And maybe he thinks about delivering Jensen a complimentary cup of coffee to the studio some day so he can watch the roll of Jensen's muscles as he sculpts a mound of clay or – if God is smiling on him – works with a blow torch and scrap metal. He might also lie in his bed at night, thinking about sliding those threadbare jeans over Jensen's narrow hips and perfect ass while he pins those toned arms over his head against that window.

The conversation during 'Jensen Watch' is always minimal. On a good day, like today, there are no customers and they can all whimper freely when Jensen pivots at his waist, wipes a forearm over his face, and then shifts back in a continuous, fluid motion. That is, if Jared was the kind of guy who whimpered. Which he's totally not.

At ten on the nose, Sam slaps her hand against the counter, causing Sophia, Danneel, and Jared to jump a little. “Alright. Back to work, kids.”

Sophia and Danneel shuffle out the door, back to their offices across the street. When he's alone, Jared pretends to wipe the table down while he moves closer to the window. This is his favorite part of the morning. This is the part that sends him over the edge most nights. This is the part where Jensen looks up, like he's been waiting for ten o'clock all along, and runs his fingers through his hair. His lean muscles stretch, his body on sinful display, and he winks like the whole ritual is some big inside joke between the two of them.

One Hundred Degrees in the Shade
Heat

This isn't the way Jensen planned on meeting the hot coffee guy across the street. He's had a lot of time to think about it, but none of the scenarios ever involve him pissed off and sweating with his tee shirt sticking to his back because the damned air conditioner in the studio broke and won't be fixed until tomorrow. Still, he needs ice and this is the closest place to find a quick cool down.

The bell over the door dings when he steps inside and he sighs when the frigid air hits the moisture on his skin. “Fuck,” he moans, glad there's no one in here to hear him groaning like a porn star over cold air.

He runs his hand over the back of his neck, taking a second to enjoy the air conditioning on the hottest day of the summer. When he looks up, Hot Coffee Guy is smiling tightly and trying to pretend that he's not watching Jensen from the corner of his eye, like he hasn't been watching him work for weeks. His dark hair falls into his eyes, his hands sure and steady against the cup he's holding as he swirls whipped cream onto the top of an iced concoction.

“What can I get ya?”

Jensen startles a little at the sound of the voice, but he shakes it off easily. This is not the first hot guy he's ever talked to so there's no reason he should be feeling kind of jittery inside. “Uh, ice?”

“Ice?” Hot Coffee Guy runs his tongue along his lower lip. Dammit, Jensen was just starting to cool off and now his temperature is spiking again. It's a good tongue. Then the guy smiles, bright and wide. There are dimples. Jensen almost believes in spontaneous combustion. “You want it maybe blended into a smoothie or somethin'?”

Cursing himself for looking like an awkward teenage girl, Jensen steps up to the counter and taps his fingers against the smooth top, forcing himself to meet Hot Coffee Guy's eyes. “A/C broke across the street. I just need somethin' cold as soon as possible. I'll leave it up to your expertise.”

The bell over the door dings again and an older gentleman in a suit strides toward the carafes at the end of the counter. “Mornin' Jared,” he greets with a wave, and Hot Coffee Guy – Jared – waves back with the clear plastic cup in his hand.

“Here.” Jensen looks up when Jared hands him an ice cube. “To hold ya over.” When he winks, Jensen has the overwhelming urge to stuff the cube down the front of his pants.

He's not sure, but he thinks he hears a soft groan when he tips his head to the side and runs the ice cube over his neck and throat. “Jesus Christ, it's hot,” he says, even though it's the lamest attempt at a conversation ever.

Jared huffs out a laugh. “Can say that again,” he mumbles. The tips of his ears turn pink and Jensen is tempted to offer him what's left of the wet ice cube to cool them. It might be kind of fun to watch him squirm a little.

Of course, that thought evokes another of Jared squirming in a far less public setting. If Jensen doesn't stop letting his mind wander, the heat outside is not going to be his only concern. “So, uh, you worked here long?” he asks when the businessman lays a dollar on the counter and waves good-bye a quickly as he entered.

Surprised, Jared shakes his head. “Since May,” he answers before returning his attention to the syrup bottle in his hand. “Owner's a family friend.” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead sets a cup onto the counter. “Lemon Ice. See whatcha think.”

Jensen grabs the spoon and shovels a creamy bite into his mouth. “Damn,” he nods, smiling around the ice on his tongue. It's cold, which is enough for him, but also really fucking good. “Thanks, man.”

With a shrug, Jared turns to clean his station and if Jensen didn't know better, he'd think the guy was trying to avoid his eye. “You mind if I hang out for a minute?” It's a stupid question – this is a coffee shop, after all – but Jensen can't bring himself to step back into the summer humidity just yet. Flustering Jared a little bit more seems like as good a way as any to waste some time.

Jared surprises him by turning abruptly, his hands planted on the counter as he aims a full-on, dimpled smile in Jensen's direction. “You can stay as long as you want, Jensen.”

“You know my name.” He doesn't know why it surprises him.

Offering no explanation, Jared nods. “Yeah.” He looks like he might start working again, but stops himself to say, “I'm glad you came over here.”

He wants to make some quip, to come off sounding witty and charming. Jared's still grinning, though, so Jensen's brain goes a little blank. Lifting his cup, he settles back into the chair Jared was watching him from this morning and says, “Me, too,” with the same knowing wink he gave from the studio earlier.

Look, but You Can't Touch
Covet

Jared certainly understands that serving coffee to someone doesn't give him any kind of claim over that person. He also gets that flirting with someone doesn't mean that they're going to get married and live happily-ever-after. Just because Jensen has stopped in the coffee shop three more times since the incident with the studio air conditioner four days ago, that doesn't mean that the winks, smiles, and lingering looks mean anything.

Also, he knows that he's being creepy as all hell right now. After closing the shop at eleven, he made his way up the stairs and practically collapsed against the shower wall. He had every intention of drifting off to sleep, so he doesn't think he can be blamed entirely for this. If Jensen wasn't working at midnight, Jared wouldn't be standing in the shadow of his living room to watch it happen. At least, that's what he tells himself.

He also tells himself there is no reason to be jealous of the guy who is standing behind Jensen, watching him form the clay he's working with and occasionally brushing against his bare back with intimate touches and kisses. To Jensen, Jared is just the dude who serves him coffee. There's no reason he shouldn't be fucking around with someone else.

Still, Jared watches him throw his head back at something that this other guy says, his shoulders shaking with the laughter, and he can't help but want it for himself. This crush is getting out of control, especially since it's got him standing at his window in the dark like some perverted voyeur. He knows he should just go to bed and forget he ever saw anything, but his feet just won't move.

Jensen's date slides a hand around his waist, resting his hand flat against Jensen's stomach and whispers something into Jensen's ear that makes him twist and catch the guy's lips with his own. It feels like a knife twisting in Jared's gut, which is stupid but painful, nonetheless. Jensen's just supposed to be this hot guy that he likes to watch in the mornings. Eye candy, nothing more.

But Jared knows what that laughter sounds like, when his eyes go wide and he gives a surprised ha because Jared said something he wasn't expecting. He's seen the way Jensen looks at him when he's amused and trying to hide it. It's nothing to build a relationship on or anything, but it's enough to tell Jared that he wants more.

He desperately wants what that guy over there has: Jensen's hands in his hair while his fingers toy with the tattered waistband of those dangerously sexy jeans Jensen's wearing, Jared's teeth raking over his throat while they totally forget that Jensen was just in the middle of something else. He wants to be the one Jensen is pressing himself up against, the one making him look so wanton and desperate like that.

His telephone rings, and Jared nearly jumps out of his skin. The first thing he does after figuring out if his heart is still beating is check to make sure the ringing telephone didn't give him away, even though Jensen is across the street, in another building, and clearly too busy having his ass groped to hear a goddamn telephone in Jared's apartment.

“Hello?” he hisses a whispered greeting while rushing away from the window.

“Why are we whispering? Did I catch you jerking off again?”

“What? No! What?” Jared's heart is still racing a little too fast to worry about whether or not his friend, Genevieve, is making any sense. “Why are you calling me?”

“Never mind,” she laughs easily against his ear. “I'll call back when you finish.”

One time. She called one time when he was watching porn and he forgot to turn the volume down before he answered the phone, and now she'll never let it go. “I'm not,” he insists, forcing himself to raise his voice to a normal level as he sinks onto his couch and runs his hand over his face. As far as Jared is concerned, she caught him doing something far more naughty. “What's going on?”

“I met a guy.”

Jared is actually kind of impressed. Genevieve is the pickiest woman he's ever met when it comes to men, so if she's found someone she deems worthy of telling him about, it's an event. “Yeah?”

“Yep. Came into the bar, spent the whole night talkin' about stupid movies and great music, and then he asked for my number and tipped me a fifty.”

“He paid you fifty dollars for your phone number?” Jared snorts and shakes his head, starting to feel a little more normal. “Doesn't that kind of make you a prostitute?”

“Fuck you, Padalecki,” Genevieve fires back, but she's laughing so Jared knows she's not offended or anything. “If he calls me, I might even agree to go out with him.”

Genevieve is normally all confidence and swagger, so when her voice drops soft and hopeful, it jars Jared a little bit. “I'll keep my fingers crossed for ya,” he promises, because if anyone knows what it's like to really want something that seems a little too good to be true, it's Jared.

She lets out a wistful sigh. “Thanks. How're things goin' with the elusive artist?”

Pushing himself off of the couch, Jared makes his way back to the window. The lights in the studio are off now, Jensen and his friend gone for the evening. It bugs him more than he'll admit to Genevieve that he isn't the one who disappeared into the night with Jensen, but Jared isn't ready to give up the fight just yet. Hint of a smirk teasing the corner of his lip, he shrugs. “I'm staying optimistic.”

Around
Past

“You mind if I ask you a question, Jensen?”

He's been reading a magazine for the last twenty minutes, pretending that he gives a damn about whoever the hell the Twilight kids are fucking around with this week, while Jared serves the mid-afternoon crowd. He should be getting back to work, but he has this piece well in hand. Without a deadline hanging over his head, he can relax with whatever this dark chocolate raspberry thing Jared made for him is. The name is all sorts of froofy, but it tastes too damn good for Jensen to actually complain.

“I mean, if it's too personal or whatever, you don't have to answer,” Jared goes on and Jensen can't help smiling a little at the way Jared fumbles his question. Over the last week, he's learned that Jared is not at all shy, but he is a little awkward. It's kind of cute, actually.

Pushing the magazine away, he leans back in his chair and spreads his arms. “I'm an open book.” It's the furthest thing from the truth, but Jensen can't imagine Jared is the kind of guy who will ask anything invasive that he can't find a clever way around. He's been evading questions he doesn't want to answer for a long damn time now.

Jared opens his mouth and then shuts it again. His brow knits, eyes flicking to the cash register in front of him and then back up again. “Where you from?”

It's not the question Jared wants to ask him, Jensen can tell. With a raised eyebrow, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Around.”

Huffing a short laugh, Jared shakes his head and meets Jensen's eye. “Around? That's what you're gonna give me?” When Jensen shrugs, Jared laughs outright. “What does that even mean? Around where? Around here?”

If there's one lesson Jensen learned early in life it was to always keep people wanting more. Vague answers lend to his air of mystery, as does the whole 'roving artist' vibe he's been cultivating lately. It's been said that he's kind of an attention whore and Jensen won't deny that. He likes being the one they gather in front of the window to watch – he didn't always work without a shirt everyday - and he likes being the guy that Jared always wants to know more about. Tipping his hand too soon, revealing too much of his past, will end the game before Jensen's ready for it to be over.

Still, Jared's expression is so open that toying with him almost feels wrong somehow. So he tilts his head just a little and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. It's not like he's sharing his social security number or anything. “Yeah, around here.”

“But not here.” Jared leans forward, hands clasped in front of him on the counter. “Place isn't big enough, man. We woulda crossed paths in high school.”

With a smirk, Jensen asks, “How do you know we didn't?”

“Believe me, I would remember you.”

This is the kind of dichotomy that makes Jared so fucking interesting to Jensen's wandering attention. He bumbles a little and nearly trips over his own feet when Jensen walks through the front door, but then he'll smile with all the confidence in the world when he says something so blatantly flirtatious. It's kind of a turn on, quite frankly.

“I don't know,” Jensen responds playfully, mimicking Jared's pose by leaning forward at the table. “I've changed a lot since back then.”

Jared doesn't flinch when he says, “Unless you had a face transplant, I'm pretty damn sure I would remember.”

The shiver that runs down Jensen's spine is absolutely due to the door opening and closing behind the customer that just entered, and is not at all a result of the way Jared runs his tongue along his bottom lip. His eyes linger on Jensen for just a second before he turns to the girl in the tiniest shorts ever made, happily asking what he can do for her today.

Jensen will readily admit that he has made a lot of mistakes and bad decisions in his life. Watching Jared chat easily with the blond co-ed while he makes her Berry Blast smoothie, his eyes occasionally cutting to Jensen with amused half-smiles, he assures himself that coming into this coffee shop last week was not one of those historically bad calls.

Bring on the Rain
Wet

The rumbling thunder that woke Jared up this morning was probably a sign that he should have just stayed in bed and hid until tomorrow. If something doesn’t start going right soon, he’s going to call this one a wash and give up on today all together.

Sophia and Danneel didn’t even venture across the street for their daily coffee break this morning, but Jared can’t blame them. It’s not like they missed anything, being as the downpour makes it impossible to see Jensen’s studio anyway. When the power goes out around eleven, Jared throws his towel into the sink and his arms into the air.

“I give up,” he announces.

Sam just smiles and pats his shoulder as she punches a few numbers into her cell phone. She’ll spend the next few minutes investigating the source of the outage, and deciding whether or not to close for the next couple of hours or the rest of the day. Jared can’t really do anything but wait until then.

He absolutely does not jump when the bell over the door dings at the same time a nasty bolt of lightning splits the sky damn near in half. He doesn’t visibly gulp when he turns to see that Jensen is standing in the doorway, dripping water all over the floor with his white tee shirt molded to his skin and his hair is plastered to his face, either. No, Jared is nothing but manly when Jensen shakes his head and aims a bright smile in his direction.

“Lovely weather we’re havin’, huh?”

He wants to roll his eyes, maybe shoot something brilliant and clever back, but Jensen is soaked to the bone with little rivulets of rain running down his cheeks and throat. Also, he’s smiling so wide it nearly swallows his entire face. Jared’s brain isn’t exactly thinking clever thoughts right now. “You’re wet,” is what he manages to say.

Jensen just laughs with a nod. “Good eye, man.” When he winks, Jared just huffs. Jensen has this way of knocking him off balance, but he thinks he’s done a pretty good job of covering it for the most part. Well, at least, a little bit.

Before Jared can respond, Sam comes out of the back room with a flashlight in her hand. “Power’s out pretty much everywhere for the next couple hours. The generators should hold out for the refrigerator and the ice machine, so you can lock up and take your puppy upstairs or whatever.”

“His what?” Jensen laughs, but he looks skeptical as Sam blatantly checks him out. It’s almost funny, would probably be hilarious if Jared wasn’t also feeling a little pang of ‘keep your hands off.’

Sam pointedly ignores Jared’s narrowed gaze in favor of gesturing vaguely in Jensen’s direction. “You’re the one who came in shakin’ all over the place.”

She’s gone again before Jared really processes what Sam just suggested. He could invite Jensen up to his place, or they could hang out down here in the dark. The only option he thinks is completely unacceptable is the one where Jensen heads back to his studio alone. Still, inviting him upstairs seems a little presumptuous.

“Think I can make it to the bathroom without trippin' over somethin'?” Jensen asks, using a hand to brush more water out of his hair.

It's probably that tantalizing sight that prompts Jared to say, “Why don't you just use mine upstairs, man? I've got some dry clothes you can put on while we wait this out.”

Jensen isn't small by any stretch of the imagination, but Jared's clothes are probably still a little too big for him. It's not like anyone else is going to see it, though, and if Jared is a little bit giddy at the thought of Jensen swimming in one of his old tee shirts, that's not something he's willing to admit just yet.

Taking just a minute to remember if he left anything embarrassing on the coffee table before he left this morning, Jared shoulders his way into his apartment and steps aside to let Jensen enter. “Let me grab you some shorts or somethin' and I'll be right back.”

He leaves Jensen in his living room and runs off to the bedroom. Oh god, he left Jensen standing wet in his living room. This probably looks like some insane porno proposition or something. Jensen's going to think that Jared's some kind of opportunistic sexual predator or something.

With a pair of old basketball shorts in hand, Jared stops at the foot of his bed to take a deep breath. He's being ridiculous. If Jensen thought Jared was just luring him up here for sex, he wouldn't have followed. Unless , unless he wants to have sex with Jared, of course. Bat is not a possibility that Jared is ready to process just yet, he forces himself to swallow the neurosis before he steps out of the bedroom.

“Uh, I found shorts and a tee shirt,” he states, inwardly kicking himself for being an idiot. “Bathroom's right here,” he swings an arm out to smack the door to the left of his room. “Did you want a flashlight still?”

Finally, Jensen laughs, crossing the room now that he's finally been invited. His jeans are painted against his thighs, his tee shirt doing nothing to conceal the definition of his chest and stomach. He's not ripped, but dammit, he looks good.

Peeking his head into Jared's bathroom, he grins and peels his tee shirt off, standing close enough to hit Jared with a few of the droplets. “I think I can manage. You got towels in here?”

With a stupid nod, Jared points toward the linen closet and then turns his back as though Jensen's just going to whip it out and start peeing while he's still standing there. “Just ask if you need anything else.”

Keep Your Pants On
Skin

There's a decent-sized window in Jared's bathroom, but it's not exactly a sunny afternoon, so Jensen still has to squint a little to find the handle and flush the toilet. He can't thoroughly inspect Jared's medicine cabinet, or even snoop through his shower for shampoo and body wash information without the overhead light. It sucks; he's learned a lot about guys through their bathrooms over the years.

It feels good to get out of his heavy jeans and his cold, wet tee shirt. Jared's shorts are a little big, but they have a drawstring, so other than the fact that they fall nearly to his shins, they're pretty comfortable. It's about three hundred degrees without the electricity to run the air conditioner, so he leaves the tee shirt Jared offered on the counter.

Alright, so maybe he leaves the tee shirt on the counter because he likes the way Jared looks at him when he's not wearing one. The cold air does feel good on his damp skin, so he doesn't feel completely skeevy for stepping out of the bathroom half-naked.

“I hung my clothes over the shower curtain. That okay?”

Jared jumps a little and turns from his place on the couch, thumb between his teeth as he looks Jensen over. Yeah, there's definitely a look in Jared's eyes, one that absolutely makes Jensen's skin tingle a little bit. “Yeah, it's fine,” he says when he finally pulls his thumb out of his mouth. “You want something to drink. I just bought beer. Wouldn't want it to go bad.”

As much as Jensen likes the way Jared sometimes loses his train of thought when Jensen enters a room, it's not nearly as hot as the way he smirks when he regains his composure. “Yeah, why not?”

There's sweat pooling at the hollow of Jared's throat when he turns to hand Jensen one of the bottles. He suddenly thinks this objectification thing has been very one-sided. He takes a drink of his beer and blatantly rakes his eyes over Jared's chest before dragging them back to his face. “Dude, you're burnin' up,” he says, voice dropped low with intent.

“I'm kinda sweaty by nature,” Jared shrugs, making his way back into the living room to drop onto the couch. Jensen's about to knock his head against the door frame when Jared sets his beer on the end table and pulls his shirt over his head. “Wouldn't want you to be the only one,” he winks while settling back into the cushions again.

Jensen tries to look smooth as he walks over to the chair opposite Jared, but goddamn that is a good chest. His shoulders and arms aren't so shabby, either. Golden, summer tanned skin that seems to go on forever makes Jensen want to crawl across the floor and position himself squarely between Jared's knees.

“You okay over there?” Jared's tone is amused when he takes another drink.

Clearing his throat, Jensen shifts in his seat and forces himself to drag his eyes away from Jared's throat. “So, this is your place, huh?” When Jared shrugs easily, Jensen chuckles. “Gotta tell ya, I didn't think it was gonna be a power outage that got me up here, man.”

If he's thrown, Jared does a good job of hiding it. “Your boyfriend gonna be okay with you hangin' up here all naked and stuff?”

Jensen's brow knits. He hasn't had a boyfriend in… Well, he's never really had a boyfriend. Maybe once, on a technicality, but that was 'ears ago now. “Yours gonna mind you havin' me up here all naked and stuff?”

“I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Neither do I,” Jensen says around the lip of his beer bottle. They may be across the room from each other and still wearing shorts, but there is some serious fucking of the eye variety going on here.

Jared is the first to look away, dropping his head back to expose his long, distracting throat. There's nothing Jensen wants more than to drag his tongue across that sweat-moistened expanse of skin. “I saw you the other night, Jensen. In your studio. With that guy.”

That guy? Jensen squints as he racks his brain to figure out what the hell Jared is talking about. Oh. “Ian?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Dude, I wouldn't. He's not. Oh, Jesus, were you watching us?” Jared has the decency to look guilty, but doesn't answer. “Not really into serious relationships or whatever. But Ian's a good time, so we hook up sometimes.” When Jared doesn't really respond, Jensen adds, “And it's cool, man. We don't mind bein' watched.”

“I didn't watch,” Jared rolls his eyes like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard, but the deep red taking over the tips of his ears kind of contradicts his point. “I saw. There's a difference.”

Jensen chuckles again, feeling like he has the upper hand in their conversation for the first time since Jared stripped out of his shirt. “So,” he says when the silence stretches just this side of awkward. “You work out?”

With a quirk of his lip, Jared nods. “Little bit, yeah.” And then he fucking flexes his pecs in this way that nearly knocks Jensen out of his chair.

This is supposed to be a fairly innocent little flirtation thing he has going with the guy who makes him good coffee, but there is nothing innocent about the thoughts he's having right now.

“You hungry?” Jared stands as he asks the question, stretching his arms over his head. There has to be a mile and a half of warm, naked skin right there, just begging to be marked up and licked clean.

Yeah, Jensen's in some serious trouble here.

Turnabout Is Fair Play
Slick

Jared has always liked his guys a little rough around the edges, casual and relaxed. He prefers diners to expensive restaurants, and wants to chill with someone who's more comfortable in a dive bar than some fancy cigar lounge. That's probably why he's never pursued the relationship his parents wish he would with Tom, the curator of a small local history museum a few blocks away from the coffee shop.

With all the subtlety of a frying pan to the side of the head, his dad invited Tom to join them for dinner during Jared's first week back home and made it none too obvious that he thought this was the kind of guy Jared would be interested in now that he wasn't some frivolous frat boy anymore. Tom's not a bad guy or anything, but he's not exactly the kind of man Jared sees enjoying beer and nachos during Monday Night Football.

Still, Tom's easy on the eyes. Coupled with the way he sucks cock like a pro, and added to the fact that there aren't exactly a lot of openly gay men in a town this size, Jared doesn't mind having dinner with him on occasion. This occasion happens to be that Jared is so sexually frustrated he thinks he might explode, but Tom doesn't need to know that.

Earlier today, he and Jensen made no apologies for the way they blatantly hit on each other. As soon as the power flickered back on, Jensen was talking about needing to get back to work and Jared couldn't get back downstairs to check on the damn ice machine fast enough. Another hour of sweating it out on Jared's living room floor could have yielded interesting results, but Jared's pretty sure he'll never know now.

Maybe that dictum Sophia’s always spouting is true: Too much foreplay spoils the main event. It's not conscious or anything – Jared's not an idiot – but the theory does carry some weight. He and Jensen have spent so much time dancing around each other; he's starting to worry that the main event will never live up to the opening act.

Jared is sprawled out on the couch, Tom's mouth hot against his throat, when he realizes he should absolutely not be thinking about Jensen right now. In fact, the whole reason that he brought Tom back to his place was so that he could forget about that guy across the street for a few hours and find some relief from all this tension that is stretching thinner by the minute. He rolls his head against the arm of the couch as Tom's teeth scrape his collarbone, because that's when Jared sees the light on in Jensen's studio. The mouth against his sternum, trailing slowly down his stomach, feels good and all, but Jensen is solely focused on the face of the figure he's sculpting, and it's suddenly far more interesting than the way Tom is working his pants open in this room.

“Here, wait,” Jared threads his fingers through Tom's hair and pulls on his head a little bit. “Just let me,” he grunts and struggles to sit. It's a douche move, Jared is aware of that, but Jensen's hands smoothing so gently over that clay are too irresistible. He tells himself what Tom doesn't know won't hurt him, and sinks back on the couch to get a better view of the studio. Tom is looking a little skeptical from his place on the floor between Jared's spread thighs, so Jared reaches for the back of his neck and smiles as fondly as he can. “Wanna be able to see everything.” It's not a total lie.

This has got to be some kind of sign. His crush on Jensen is bordering on a weird obsession now, but Jared can't, or doesn't want to, find the will to stop it. There's something about Jensen that he hasn't felt since college, when it was perfectly acceptable to tease someone for hours at a party before taking them home to follow through on the promises he'd been making all night. It was fun back then, and it's fun with Jensen now.

He's loose and unpredictable, intriguing and exciting. There's an honesty in the way that he looks at Jared that Jared is never going to find with someone like Tom, – all rigid, polished and too concerned about what other people see when they look at him. That's not the guy Jared is ready to be with yet.

Tom swallows him down at the exact moment Jensen turns his head in the direction of Jared's apartment. The slick feeling of Tom's tongue combined with the way Jensen tilts his head and then steps closer to the window nearly sends Jared over the edge in less than a second. He really has no way of knowing if Jensen can even see him – the only light on in Jared's place is the lamp on the end table – but when Jensen abandons his work all together to step fully to the window, Jared has a pretty good idea.

A part of him wants to be embarrassed, but Tom is making the most obscene noises as he works Jared's cock with his mouth and his hand, and Jensen is watching like this is a movie he paid nine fifty to see. It's hotter than it has any right to be, and when Jensen lowers his hand to his jeans and shifts his hips, Jared can't hold back anymore.

Throwing his head back, he comes so hard the edges of his vision go dark, his breath ragged and loud in the otherwise silent apartment. When he opens his eyes again, Tom is climbing onto the couch at his side and Jensen is still staring at him from across the street.

Jared's moral line is blurring faster by the second, but if Jensen wants to watch him return Tom's favor, Jared certainly isn't in any condition to stop him.

Less Talk, More Action
Kiss

The opening of his latest show at the gallery isn’t exactly the world’s biggest deal or anything. If the owner, Jeff, needs to fill some space, he’ll let Jensen show a few pieces. While none of his showings have yielded lucrative results, they have provided a lot of valuable exposure. And for that alone, Jensen is grateful.

He expected his friends – Ian, Misha, Alona, and Katie – to show up, because they're always here to show their support. What he doesn’t expect, however, is to turn from a conversation with a prospective buyer and nearly trip over one of Jared’s giant feet.

“Hey,” he startles and shakes his head to come up with something smarter to say. “You’re not working.” He doesn’t succeed.

“No, I’m not.” He smirks and adds, “I do get off occasionally.”

It’s not exactly his smoothest moment when Jensen nearly drops his champagne flute onto his own foot at the implication in Jared’s words. He wasn’t exactly trying to be covert the other night, but given Jared’s reaction to Jensen’s own window display, he kind of figured Jared's would go unaddressed.

The way Jared casually puts it out there is hotter than Jensen expects it to be. He has to remind himself that they are in public and; trying to climb Jared like a tree is not acceptable. “So what brings my favorite exhibitionist over here?”

For a second, he worries that he might be pushing it just a little, but Jared’s eyes are amused when he asks, “Exhibitionist, huh?” Taking another drink, he keeps his eyes laser-focused on Jensen. “Don’t forget who started it.”

Jensen doesn’t have a chance to retaliate before a long, thin arm drapes across his shoulder as a warm body curls against his side. “Who’s your friend, Jenny?” Pausing, she rakes her eyes from Jared’s head to his feet and back again. “And is he single?”

With a roll of his eyes for Jared’s benefit, Jensen says, “Katie, this is Jared. Yes, he’s single, but you are nowhere near man enough for him, Sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Katie says, lips puffing into a disappointed pout. “Are you man enough, Jen? I mean, it'd be a shame to let all of this,” she gestures in Jared’s general direction, “go to waste.” Katie has the biggest heart of anyone he knows and she has been one of his most loyal defenders for a long time now, but she can be a little intimidating at first.

Of course, Jared handles her with even greater ease than he does Jensen. “Definitely looks like he could be, Katie,” he smiles, nodding in her direction before hitting Jensen with another one of those penetrating gazes that make his entire body feel like it’s catching fire. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

With another wink, he slips away to join his friends and Jensen is left to wonder what the hell just happened. He feels like the tables have turned and he’s suddenly been ejected from the driver’s seat or some other crazy mixed metaphor. It’s seems Jared thinks he can change the rules of this game while Jensen isn’t looking.

Around ten, Ian introduces Jensen to Sophia and Danneel, who blush a little but share a conspiratorial smile when Jensen says he believes they’re already acquainted. Sophia explains that Jared left early to go grab a coffee. If you ask Jensen, he handles the disappointing news rather well.

And okay, yeah, it's a little unprofessional to leave his own damn show in the middle, but Jared came to support him and Jensen barely said three words to him while he was here. That just seems rude.

He doesn't bother telling anyone he's leaving as he heads out of the gallery and across the street. Through the window, he can see Jared sitting at one of the tables toward the front of the half-empty shop, talking animatedly with the tiny brunette behind the counter. He doesn't even know what he's going to say when he gets inside, but he's operating more on adrenaline than logic right now.

The bell rings over the door and Jared looks up, a bright smile spreading slow and easily on his lips. He’s changed clothes, kicked back in jeans and a tee shirt instead of those dress pants that made his ass look so damn good earlier. “Hey,” he offers half a wave in greeting.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Jensen asks, walking in the direction of the stairwell before Jared can stop him.

He's gabbing at Jared's shirt, shoving him up against the wall before the door shuts all the way. “Thought we were gonna talk,” Jared smiles, though he's looking a little freaked out by the way Jensen's manhandling him.

Jensen just shakes his head and surges forward. “Shut up. Just,” he huffs a laugh and gets distracted by Jared's mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, man.”

If he was the kind of guy who sat around thinking about first kisses, this wouldn't be the way he imagined it going. Jared is resistant at first, his mouth pulled tight and his hands almost pushing at Jensen's hips. That doesn't stop Jensen from licking along the line of his lips and moving one hand to Jared's hair.

Simultaneously, Jared pulls him in and opens his mouth, his tongue sliding against Jensen's even as he grunts a little and clutches the back of Jensen's neck. There's nothing sweet or soft about it, but Jensen will gladly take rough and dirty from Jared.

When he pulls back, Jared still seems a little shell-shocked by the evening's turn of events. “What the hell was that?”

“Jared. Dude.” Jensen is having a hard time catching his breath with Jared's thumb on his jaw like it is. “Less talking, man.”

Bumps and Bruises
Ache

Jared manages to knock his shins against the stairs no less than four times en route to his apartment door. If anyone had asked him how this night was going to end, he sure as hell wouldn't have said with Jensen attached to his lips while they stumbled toward his bed. His answer would have been far less awesome earlier tonight.

It was easier to forget that Jared is the bigger of them when Jensen was shoving him up against the wall, but by the time they finish the clumsy fumble up the stairs he's starting to think he should be controlling this thing. At least that way, his legs wouldn't be bruised and aching when he shoulders into the dark apartment and nearly lands on his ass under Jensen's weight.

He shuts and locks the door, and when he turns back, Jensen is laughing. “What?” he asks, backing Jensen up as he stalks him in the general direction of his bedroom.

“Nothing,” Jensen shakes his head, tripping over the leg of the coffee table to fall back on the couch with an 'oomph.' “Fuckin' OW!”

Now Jared is laughing, too, because this is the most ridiculous night of his life in more ways than one. Until now, things have been easy and, in Jared's opinion, they've both come off pretty smooth. Maybe it was inevitable that it all turned into a clusterfuck the second they tried to turn it into something more than it already is. If it's not funny, it's incredibly tragic, so Jared decides it's kind of hilarious.

With a roll of his eyes, Jensen pushes up off the couch and bends to rub his ankle. Looking up, he hitches a thumb over his shoulder and growls, “Get your ass on the bed before we kill ourselves.”

Jared just grabs his arm and pulls until Jensen is standing in front of him. Hands on his shoulders, he pushes Jensen toward the bedroom, taking the opportunity to nip at the skin just above his collar. “Sure you wanna risk it?”

Jensen doesn't try to bite his groan back before he answers, “Fuck yeah,” in that gruff tone that zings right to Jared's dick.

They make it across the threshold before Jensen turns on him, hunger obvious in his eyes, and rips Jared's shirt over his head. It snags on his ears, but Jared doesn't complain when Jensen leans forward to suck on one of his nipples. “Shit, Jensen.”

Jensen implied that they might kill themselves if they didn't get on the bed, but Jared thinks he might die now that they're here. He's only really been watching Jensen for a few months, but it feels like it’s taken a lifetime to get here. When he pops the button on Jensen's jeans, he ignores the fact that his fingers are shaking a little.

“I'd ask if it's been awhile, but I already know the answer to that,” Jensen says, lips quirked in that sexy smirk that seems even hotter now that they're here. When Jared doesn't respond, Jensen shoves his own pants over his hips and lets them pool to the floor at his feet. “Man, don't zone out on me yet.”

“Not,” Jared shakes his head, even though it's obviously a lie. He can't help that he wants to take his time; Jensen doesn't do relationships and Jared is well-aware this may be the only chance he gets. He doesn't want to miss anything.

Jensen circles him, hands sliding up over his chest. “Fuckin' want you so bad,” he says against Jared's shoulder, teeth scraping against his muscle while his fingers deftly unbutton Jared's jeans. “Watched you with that guy,” he goes on, hand sliding over Jared's underwear to squeeze at his rapidly hardening cock. “Fuck, Jared.”

The combination of Jensen's hand and his cock against Jared's ass is going to be the end of him, so he shoves his jeans over his hips and covers Jensen's hand. “Was thinkin' about you that night, man,” he hears himself say, though the echo of rushing blood is loud in his ears.

Jensen tucks his thumbs into Jared's underwear and drags them to the floor, following to his knees. “I know,” is his response to Jared's confession, just before his teeth sink into the firm muscle of Jared's ass.

“Fucker,” Jared flinches, not because it hurts, but because he certainly wasn't expecting Jensen to start there. “You haven't bruised me enough?” he plays it off, but he doesn't mean that he wants Jensen to stop. Far from it.

The chuckle that vibrates against his skin is downright filthy. “Jared?” When Jared mumbles a response, Jensen nips at his tailbone. “You gonna shut up and let me play or you wanna keep whinin' for awhile?” He punctuates his question by sliding his hand over Jared's hip and wrapping it around the base of his cock.

Letting his head fall back, Jared can't help laughing at the overwhelming sensation of Jensen's fingers stroking painfully slow up his dick while his tongue traces along the cheek of his ass. “Do whatever you want, man.”

“Yeah, that's what I wanna hear,” he growls against Jared's skin before he takes another hard bite of his ass.

Leaning forward to brace his hands against the bed, Jared drops his head between his shoulders and lets every other thought go. It doesn't matter how long it takes, or how many bruises, aches, and pains he has in the morning. Right now, the only thing that matters is the way Jensen feels against him. The rest will work itself out later.

This Is Different
Lies

There are lies that Jensen tells other people, like "I don't want to be famous" and "The art is more important than the paycheck." "I don't do relationships, has practically become his catchphrase.

There are lies that he only tells himself, ones that he's been telling for so long that they're starting to feel like truth. "It's better this way,"and "Separating sex from attachment is easy," are his favorites.

Lately, he's finding a few of his lies harder to sell, at least to himself. With Ian, it's easy; it's comfortable, familiar, and not sleeping together just doesn't seem to occur to them or something.

Everything looks different in Jared's bedroom, though. It feels different to be laying here, sweaty and sated, without a thought of leaving. It's a little terrifying, but also pretty awesome. It's not just the super hot sex – Jensen can't remember the last time he came so hard from a fucking hand job – because with Jared, it's also a shitload of fun. It's been ages since he laughed so much, forgot everything else, and just lost himself in the moment with someone.

“It's okay, ya know?”

Rolling his head on the pillow, Jensen blinks at the heavily lidded, slightly amused look on Jared's face. “What?”

“Stickin' around's not really your thing. I get it.” The bed shifts just enough for Jensen to know that Jared is shrugging. “I mean, if you want to. Just. I don't know, man. Don't feel obligated.”

Jensen lifts himself onto one elbow and makes sure that Jared is looking at him when he says, “You're not wrong,” he chuckles a little. Maybe it's the tension that Jared manages to shake free in Jensen's shoulders or something, but he feels loose and happy. “But I don't usually head home until I'm done.” He lets his eyes travel the length of Jared's neck to the swell of his shoulder, the striation of the muscles evident beneath Jared's tanned skin. Damn but the man's body is impossibly perfect.

“Ah,” Jared nods, eyes opening and smile brightening a little. “And you're not done yet?”

Dropping a quick kiss on Jared's lips, he winks when he pulls back and lets his hand trail beneath the sheet that barely covers Jared's waist. “Man, I'm just gettin' started.”

It's such a cheesy line that they both laugh, but Jared's catches in his throat when Jensen's hand slides from the inside of his thigh to run his fingertips over Jared's balls. “That is so un-fucking-fair.” His dry chuckle is bitten off by the moan that rumbles through his chest.

“Yeah,” Jensen nods his agreement while half-rolling himself onto Jared's side and hooking his leg over Jared's to pull it further open. “I should probably stop, huh? Wouldn't wanna play dirty or anything.” He drags his open lips over Jared's throat when his fist closes around Jared's cock, smiling when it twitches in his hand.

Jared feels relaxed under Jensen's ministrations, so it's surprising when he gracefully flips to cover Jensen's body with his own. He's more than a little hard against Jensen's hip, and Jensen's not really sure how Jared got his arms pinned above his head like this. He's not really complaining, though.

“How's that for playin' dirty?” Jared challenges, eyebrow raised before he sucks Jensen's tongue into his mouth.

Dominance can fuck itself for all Jensen cares. He thrusts his hips against Jared's, getting more air than contact, while he whimpers at the idea of being manhandled so easily. Add another lie to the list: "I need to be in control." If letting go of it means that he gets this Jared, the perfect mixture of playfulness and intensity, he'll give it up willingly.

Jared lets go of his hands, but Jensen doesn't bother to lower them, instead, stretching his body under Jared's while gripping the headboard. There's a flash of something predatory in Jared's eyes, something that strokes Jensen's ego in exactly the right way. “You gonna fuck me, Jared?” he asks, voice pitched a little lower, and far more desperate, than he usually likes to sound.

He seems a little surprised by the question, but leans down to suck that spot just below Jensen's ear that drives him fucking insane. He's been doing that a lot since he found it earlier tonight. “That what you want, Jensen?” he asks, breath hot against Jensen's neck.

“Fuck yes,” he practically begs, bucking his hips instinctively.

It's almost painful when Jared leans over to grab the lube from the bedside table where Jensen left it earlier. He's a little too heavy to be laying his weight on Jensen, but Jensen will be damned if he's going to complain. Instead, he moves one hand from the headboard to slip it over the line of Jared's back.

A little discomfort be damned, Jensen almost wants to pout when Jared pulls away to sit back on his knees. Instead, he rubs his leg against Jared's hip and watches the way he stokes his own cock with lubed fingers.

“Damn you, Padalecki,” Jensen laughs when Jared looks at him and runs his tongue along his lower lip. “Such a fucking tease.”

Jared just shakes his head while he rolls the condom on and reaches for the lube bottle again. “Yeah, 'cause you got room to talk about teasing,” he shoots back with a grin. “How long'd you tongue my ass earlier?”

He doesn't give Jensen the time to respond, spreading his own knees to hold Jensen's legs open as he slowly runs slick fingers against Jensen's hole. His eyes never leave Jensen's, and that's when Jensen knows that he can lie to himself about a hell of a lot, but not about this.

Part 2