Maybe it's one of those residual things from his past, his inability to trust anyone with what's most important to him. Or maybe it's just that Jensen is the hottest man ever created, and he works his ass off, has more money than God, and genuinely cares about people. Whether Jensen realizes it or not, that makes him sort of fuckable.
The door swings open a few minutes later, just in time for Jared to see ESPN put a hand on Jensen's shoulder. Danneel clamps a fist over Jared's wrist, but he just pulls away and stands up to his full six and a half feet. If he flexes a little, it's not . . . actually, it is totally on purpose.
“So I'll have our lawyers draw up the contract and Fed Ex it,” the guy is saying.
Jensen, on the other hand, seems to lose interest the minute his eyes find Jared standing next to Danneel at the counter. “Hey, you. Do you remember Wilson Chambers, from ESPN?”
Jared nods and extends his free hand. He can be courteous, when he has to be. And when the guy's name is fucking Wilson Chambers. “What's up?”
Wilson blanches a little at the firm grip of Jared's hand, but his fake ass smile doesn't waver. “You're Jensen's,” he trails off, like saying the word is beneath him or something.
“Boyfriend,” Jensen supplies, and the look in his eye when he turns back to Jared is enough to calm the jealousy a little. Still, it turns another crank and Jared's pretty sure that Jensen needs to see Wilson to the fucking door as soon as is humanly possible. “We talked about him earlier, remember?”
Wilson nods and shakes Jensen's hand again, drools some more, and then heads out the door. Jared mutters something under his breath, but smiles when Jensen turns back. “You wanna grab some lunch?”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “You're kinda cute when you're jealous for no reason, ya know that?”
“Cute? I'm not cute,” Jared insists.
“You are. Like a little junior high girl. It's adorable.”
“Do I mock you when you're freakin' out over, I don't know . . . Brock Kelley?”
Jensen's eyes darken immediately with the mention of that name. “Not the same thing, and you know it. He's totally trying to sleep with you.”
“And Wilson's not trying to sleep with you? Are you fucking blind?”
“Only to anyone who's not you, Love Muffin,” is Tom's response from the counter behind them.
“Oh, fuck you, Welling,” Jensen flips him off and shakes his head. “You want food? Or do you wanna grab a quickie in the storage closet?”
“Seriously? You're not even trying to hide it anymore?” Danneel questions.
Jared just shoots her a shit-eating grin and grabs Jensen's wrist in one hand. “Takin' a cue from you.”
A few minutes later, while Jensen is pulling at his hair and writhing against a shelf of whatever the hell he actually stores in here, Jared decides that jealousy's not so bad. At least it helps him remember what he's got, and how badly he doesn't want to lose it. Ever.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-04-08 10:53 am (UTC)The door swings open a few minutes later, just in time for Jared to see ESPN put a hand on Jensen's shoulder. Danneel clamps a fist over Jared's wrist, but he just pulls away and stands up to his full six and a half feet. If he flexes a little, it's not . . . actually, it is totally on purpose.
“So I'll have our lawyers draw up the contract and Fed Ex it,” the guy is saying.
Jensen, on the other hand, seems to lose interest the minute his eyes find Jared standing next to Danneel at the counter. “Hey, you. Do you remember Wilson Chambers, from ESPN?”
Jared nods and extends his free hand. He can be courteous, when he has to be. And when the guy's name is fucking Wilson Chambers. “What's up?”
Wilson blanches a little at the firm grip of Jared's hand, but his fake ass smile doesn't waver. “You're Jensen's,” he trails off, like saying the word is beneath him or something.
“Boyfriend,” Jensen supplies, and the look in his eye when he turns back to Jared is enough to calm the jealousy a little. Still, it turns another crank and Jared's pretty sure that Jensen needs to see Wilson to the fucking door as soon as is humanly possible. “We talked about him earlier, remember?”
Wilson nods and shakes Jensen's hand again, drools some more, and then heads out the door. Jared mutters something under his breath, but smiles when Jensen turns back. “You wanna grab some lunch?”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “You're kinda cute when you're jealous for no reason, ya know that?”
“Cute? I'm not cute,” Jared insists.
“You are. Like a little junior high girl. It's adorable.”
“Do I mock you when you're freakin' out over, I don't know . . . Brock Kelley?”
Jensen's eyes darken immediately with the mention of that name. “Not the same thing, and you know it. He's totally trying to sleep with you.”
“And Wilson's not trying to sleep with you? Are you fucking blind?”
“Only to anyone who's not you, Love Muffin,” is Tom's response from the counter behind them.
“Oh, fuck you, Welling,” Jensen flips him off and shakes his head. “You want food? Or do you wanna grab a quickie in the storage closet?”
“Seriously? You're not even trying to hide it anymore?” Danneel questions.
Jared just shoots her a shit-eating grin and grabs Jensen's wrist in one hand. “Takin' a cue from you.”
A few minutes later, while Jensen is pulling at his hair and writhing against a shelf of whatever the hell he actually stores in here, Jared decides that jealousy's not so bad. At least it helps him remember what he's got, and how badly he doesn't want to lose it. Ever.