The Consultant (for spn_reversebang)
Nov. 16th, 2010 09:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raeschaeTitle: The Consultant
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raeschae
Wordcount: 15K
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Summary: When Jared heads to Las Vegas to research a role that could launch his career, he isn't anticipating the lessons that reformed con artist, Jensen Ackles, will teach him. Jensen isn't as reformed as he claims to be, though, and Jared is about to learn the art of the con the hard way.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_reversebang. Thanks to transfixeddream for looking it over for me. And special thanks to tinkabell007 for the super-cool art that inspired this fic. Martina, you've been so encouraging of this idea from the beginning. I hope you feel this story does your art justice!
There are a lot of things Jared loves about his job but, as he stretches out against the soft sheets and firm mattress of the gigantic hotel bed, he decides that studio-paid “research” trips are at the top of the list. If he could move his arms and legs, he would definitely text his brother to make sure he knows that acting is definitely cooler than saving lives as a surgeon. Instead, he stretches as far as he can and onto his stomach to fill in the vacant place at his side.
He has this reputation back in Hollywood for being the guy who dates a new up-and-coming starlet every other week. His publicist, Katie, says that it's best to just to show up, do his work and let the tabloids make up whatever story they want. America loves a party boy with a heart of gold, apparently, more than they would love the guy who hasn't gotten laid since his boyfriend left him for a tennis instructor eight months ago.
Smiling, he scratches blunt nails over his chest and thinks that he can't complain about that anymore. He has, in fact, been laid since Kwan left. He wasn't planning it or anything – this was supposed to be like any other business trip – but the guy at the bar was cool, not to mention ridiculously good-looking and totally interested in buying Jared drinks. He didn't expect him to be here this morning but it feels good to be back on the horse again, so to speak.
Nearly drifting back to sleep, Jared bolts upright when the door of his room slams open and Katie comes charging toward the bed. “What the fuck did I tell you?” She tosses what appears to be a newspaper onto the bed and rests her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed and more angry than Jared has ever seen them. “I cannot fucking believe that you are so monumentally fucking stupid!”
It's not the first time that she's been pissed at Jared but it's the first time she's called him stupid while sounding like she'd also like to rip his head off of his shoulders. He doesn't even bother looking down, just rakes his fingers through his hair and shifts the sheets around his hips to keep from exposing anymore of himself to the woman who's already seen it all. “I feel like I should apologize,” he smiles feebily.
When Katie growls under her breath, Jared looks down and promptly feels like he might throw up. “No way,” he shakes his head in disbelief. This isn't even possible.
Staring back at him is a picture of himself, pressed up against the door of what looks like his hotel with the hot guy from last night's thigh wedge between his legs. Jared's got one hand on the back of the guy's head and the other dipping into the back of his pants. Sure, he remembers kissing the guy when they got into the room but he had a hell of a lot more to drink than he thought if he was making out with him like this in the hallway.
“But I didn't,” he starts and then stops, scrubbing a hand over his face again. “How is this even out yet?” His eyes dart to the bedside table, the angry red number glowing back at him with what feels like their own brand of disapproval. “We didn't even come back here until after midnight.” It's only seven thirty – no paper prints up that fast, does it?
For a long time, Katie paces the foot of the bed, hands on the top of her head as she opens her mouth and then snaps it shut again. “You said you didn't want to come out publicly and I respected that. I thought we had a plan, Jared!”
“We did!” he snaps back, starting to stand before he remembers that the sheet needs to come with him. “We do. I mean, this isn't the end of the world, right? We can work this out.” He tells himself that he sounds more rugged and masculine, less scared and six years old.
With a sigh, she throws her hands out and nods. “I'll think of something. Take a shower. You're meeting with that consultant at eight.”
Jared stumbles into the shower, mind reeling along with the floor under his feet. Last night was amazing and the guy... Oh, fuck, the guy. He's about to get a crash course in what it means to fuck a celebrity and Jared doesn't have his number to warn him. At least, he doesn't think he has it. They didn't talk about exchanging them. Outside of vague and random chatter in the bar, they didn't talk much at all.
By the time he climbs out of the shower and manages to dress himself, Jared has gone back and forth between 'end of the world' and 'not that big of a deal' at least four times. Katie's damn good at what she does and this movie is going to be a blockbuster summer release. He can rise above it. He can bounce back.
When he steps back into the bedroom, Katie is perched on the edge of the bed, talking to a guy in jeans and a fitted leather jacket who's holding the tabloid in his hands. At first, Jared thinks this must be someone Katie called for damage control, but when the guy turns and smiles, Jared stops dead in his tracks.
“How'd you find him?” Jared asks Katie, though he's still looking directly at the hot guy from last night. The guy whose name he doesn't remember and whose number he doesn't know.
Smile tweaking the corner of her lips, Katie stands and nods over her shoulder. “Jared, meet Jensen Ackles. Your con-sultant.”
He's in Vegas to meet with a con man cum studio consultant – a guy brought in by the production company to help the authenticity of the script and performances. “You played me,” Jared states when Jensen stands and tosses the tabloid onto the dresser. “You knew who I was and you.” He stops and rests his hand on the back of his neck. “Fuck.”
“Welcome to lesson one, Jared,” Jensen grins, as though he has no remorse for conning Jared into bed last night. He turns to Katie and then nods toward Jared again. “Can we get a minute alone?”
She pats Jared's shoulder softly as she brushes past him, excusing herself into the hall.
It's quiet for awhile, Jared trying to wrap his head around what he's learned. He feels violated and manipulated. Dirty. He hasn't felt dirty in a long time. “The fuck is wrong with you, huh?”
Jensen smirks again, cool and collected. “First of all, the only part of last night that was a planned was picking you up in the bar and getting the picture in the hall. Everything that happened after that had nothing to do with business.”
Eyes narrowed, Jared crosses his arms over his chest. He's not much of a fighter, but he doesn't usually have to be. His size is usually intimidating enough on its own. “Why in the hell would I believe that?”
"You shouldn't,” Jensen shrugs, resting his hands comfortably in his pockets. “A good con rests on the confidence of the artist. Trust no one but your own instincts. And you trust those implicitly.” Stepping binto Jared's personal space, Jensen studies his face a little too closely and then asks, “What do your instincts say about last night?”
He swallows hard because having Jensen this close is bringing back memories his dick does not need to be remembering right now. He's pissed off, has good reason to be, and he does need the smell or the feeling of Jensen's breath against his throat making him forget that. “You sure it doesn't rely on the conniving of its mastermind?” he asks – in his head, it sounds reasonably intelligent.
This time, Jensen chuckles a little as he steps even closer, his chest brushing Jared's and his lips ghosting over the junction of his neck and shoulder. “A con man does whatever he has to do to pull off his job.” His nose bumps against Jared's jaw. “An artist believes in it enough not to regret anything.”
Taking a broad step back, Jared shakes his head. He can feel his eyebrow raising. “You had to know that this was gonna piss me off,” he tries to reason. He doesn't even know this guy and he certainly doesn't like him nearly as much as he did last night.
"Sure.” Hating him would be easier if Jensen's smile wasn't so electrifying. “I was thinking about that at first. But once a con is done, you put it out of your head and you move on. I was done with it by the time we stepped through the door.”
"Can you stop being my consultant for five minutes and talk to me like a regular person?” He stops short of saying 'like the guy you were last night' when he realizes that the guy Jensen was last night is probably not who he is. This whole thing is giving him a confusing headache.
Finally, Jensen takes a step back and crosses his arms, leather pulling tight across his shoulders. “It was unprofessional of me to let things go so far, I admit that. I'm usually really good at separating my business from my pleasure, but I'm still human. And you have really great hands.”
Rolling his eyes, Jared feels his shoulders relaxing. Maybe Jensen is full of shit but Jared didn't get into acting for the love of the craft. That may be why he keeps doing it but the love of attention has at least a little bit do with it. Every actor has an ego that needs stroking and Jensen is damn good with the stroking.
"Alright, fine,” he concedes. He's definitely been in situations where he's gotten carried away before, so he can give Jensen that much. It's still disconcerting. “At least tell me what the point was. I mean, how was any of that necessary?”
"Wanted you to see how smoothly a good con can go, and how elaborate it can be in a really short period of time,” Jensen explains with a shrug. “If you're good at what you do, you can make things happen like that,” he says with a snap of his fingers.
If Jared is trusting this gut, then Jensen is full of it. “You sure it wasn't just to see me freak out?” Jensen just quirks a small smile and shakes his head. “Look, man, I'm sure you're very good at what you do but I don't think this is gonna work. I think I'm just gonna do my own research.”
"How? You gonna watch Ocean's Eleven a few times? Maybe download some White Collar?” Jensen huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry, okay? I let things go too far and I shouldn't have, but the studio's payin' me to show you the ropes. You strike out on your own and I'm out of a job here.”
Jared waivers between punching him and just telling him to fuck off. Instead, he says, “I'm so sorry for you,” in the most sarcastic tone he can muster.
"Jared, I was one of the best in the game. Never got caught. Retired on my own. I can teach you everything you need to know to nail this role.” He tilts his head, expression serious for the first time since he walked into the room. “You gotta decide if your can check your emotions long enough to let me do that. Personal feelings can't factor into this.”
He side-steps and passes Jared without so much as a brush of their shoulders. Jared lets him go without a word because, really, what is he going to say? He's still pissed, feels used like he hasn't since high school, and all he wants to do is crawl back into bed. Fuck this movie and fuck Jensen Ackles. It's just acting – Jared can fake it on his own. He doesn't need this.
*~*~*
"I can't believe you were in on this!”
Katie stares back at Jared from the edge of his bed, legs crossed while he paces back and forth with little aim or purpose. Every time he thinks that his anger toward Jensen is starting to ebb a little bit, it flows right back over again and he wants to punch something. Hard.
With a non-committal shrug, Katie's eyes grow wider. “What do you want me to say? He's very convincing!”
If he wasn't, they wouldn't be having this conversation but that doesn't make Jared feel any better. “Well, it's good to know that you can be bought with a smile and a fifty,” he shoots back, fingers tearing through his hair.
"It was five hundred,” Katie holds a finger up, like she's offended that Jared would think so little of her. “And I don't so much see as you have room to judge, Mr. Slutty Pants.” Jared raises an eyebrow in response and Katie rolls her eyes. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't know, somewhere deep down in the place that is capable of thinking beyond your own hurt feelings, that you need this.”
"He conned me into sleeping with him!”
Even as the words roll out of his mouth, Jared knows they're not entirely true. Jensen's good, no doubt, but it's not like he got Jared so wasted that he couldn't say 'no.' If he's really honest with himself, he wanted to sleep with the guy before he ever sank to that bar stool at Jared's side, but that doesn't make him feel any better about the entire situation, either, so he chooses not to think about it.
Standing, Katie squares her shoulders and levels him with one of those 'I'm tired of fucking around with you' looks she's notorious for around Hollywood. “Lemme be real honest with you, Jared. You're twenty-eight years old. The days of playing high school jocks and college frat boys are about over for you and if you wanna keep working, if you want some roles that don't rest on the credibility of your bare torso, you're gonna have to start ponying up with some projects that have some weight. This one has a shit ton of award buzz and respectability. You're at a crossroads.” She points over Jared's shoulder. “This part is over there, with a lot more lined up behind it.” Pointing over the other, she adds, “Piss it away because of some personal grudge and your obscurity awaits you over there, with a bag of Cheetos and an apartment you share with what's his name Murray.”
"Dammit,” Jared stamps his foot like the kid he's apparently not supposed to be anymore. “Katie, I can't work with him.”
"You're only here for three more days. I'm not asking you to sleep with him again. I'm not asking you to be his best friend or spend that much time with him. Just one more meeting, listen to what he has to say, take a few notes. Do it for your career, and I will take you out later and get you so plastered you forget all about the rest of this.” Giving him her best pouty face, she steps into his personal space and actually bats her eyelashes. “C'mon, Jared. Please? For me?”
If he had an ounce of resistance toward her, he would hold his ground. Of course, he never would have made that teen angst movie four years ago and would still be living in virtual obscurity if he could say no to her, so maybe Katie has earned the right to boss him around a little.
"Okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. Clearing his throat, he says, “Set up a meeting later, not in the room where we -,” he trails off and waves vaguely at the bed. “Just, tell him he's payin' for dinner.”
Like the drama queen that he can sometimes be, Jared storms out of the room and slams the door. It's not much, but it makes him feel a little bit better.
*~*~*
By the time he's had a drink at the hotel bar, Jared is feeling a little bit more relaxed. He spent most of the day walking around, just off the strip, trying to blend in and sort out his thoughts. He desperately wants to hang on to his anger, not to mention the hurt that's fueling it, but Katie's right. He needs this role if he's going to move forward in his career. He'll kick himself forever if he lets one indiscretion derail that.
He's starting on his second Manhattan when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder. Turning, he sees Jensen raise a hand to the bartender and then nods toward Jared's hand. “Hi,” he grins, white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. “Hope you haven't been waiting too long.”
His first reaction is to shrug Jensen's touch away but he's going to school his emotions if it kills him. They were supposed to meet at eight; it's going on eight forty-five. “You're late,” he points out as Jensen eases onto the bench at his side.
With an easy shrug, Jensen gives the bartender another bright smile as he accepts his own drink. Angling his body toward Jared's, he gives a slight nod of concession. “Sorry about that. I was in the middle of something else.”
There are a million biting retorts on the tip of his tongue so Jared is pretty proud of the way he mimicks Jensen cool demeanor and takes a drink of his own. “We have reservations at nine,” is all he says, standing with half-wave to the bartender before he leaves, never bothering to see if Jensen is following him.
The valet brings his car around and Jensen snatches the keys with another bright smile. “Pretty sure I know this town better than you do.”
"It's my car!”
Jensen doesn't seem to care as he walks easily around to the driver's side and waits for Jared to join him. “If you don't come with me, it's just gonna look like I'm stealing it.” Jared raises an eyebrow; honestly, getting Jensen arrested for grand theft auto doesn't sound like the worst idea right now. “Man, I will have this thing sold off, stripped down, and virtually unrecognizable before you finish the police report. Come on.”
They head to the restaurant in relative silence, Jensen's singing with the radio the only sound between them. It's hard not to notice his onyx cuff links or the perfect fit of the suit he's wearing. The scent of his cologne is awesome, too, so that's not making Jared any more comfortable. It'd be nice if he'd at least sing off-key.
It's not until they're seated and Jensen has ordered for both of them that Jared speaks. “Let's just make this really simple, okay? Tell me what I need to know and let's just call it a day.”
"Man, you would make a terrible con man.” Jensen chuckles as he shakes his head, tipping his wine glass to his lips.
Shifting in his seat, Jared leans forward, elbows on the table. “You do know you're not actually training me to be a real con man, right? I'm an actor.”
"I love this moral superiority you have,” Jensen just angles his head and holds Jared's eye before his smile fades. “You pretend to be something you're not for money, Jared. How is that different than what I do?”
With a huff, Jared asks, “Are you kidding?” Jensen doesn't laugh. “I don't do it for real!”
"Don't you?” Jensen asks, leaning in across the table. “Last night, you were balls deep in my ass and loving it. Last week, you were on the cover of three magazines with three different women hanging off your arms. And you're gonna tell me that you don't pretend for real?”
Not for the first time in his life, Jared wishes that he could at least claim to be bisexual. With a heavy sigh, he falls back in his chair and shakes his head. “You know that's not the same thing.”
Playful grin back in place, Jensen mirrors Jared's pose by crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back. “Is it not? You do it, I'm assuming, because it's easier to get work if your sexuality isn't an issue, yes?” Jared barely shrugs, though he'd rather not let Jensen think he's on to something. “Getting work means getting paid, right?”
Though his head is still telling him that Jensen is full of shit, a tiny voice in the back of Jared's head is telling him that Jensen is right. “But what I'm doing isn't hurting anybody,” he fights back.
"Some would argue that it's hurting thousands of gay kids who are never going to have enough role models in their lives. Also, I could tell you that I don't take anything from anyone who can't afford to lose it,” Jensen shoots back automatically, with a broad smirk. He's clearly thought this discussion over before tonight and is enjoying the fact that he finally gets to see how it plays out in reality.
Because he knows he has no argument left – at least not one Jensen isn’t going to have a neatly packaged, well considered answer for – Jared just shakes his head and lets himself study Jensen’s face for a minute before he speaks. “You really can rationalize anything, can’t you?”
Jensen barely shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, but that doesn’t make me an asshole. That makes me human.”
It occurs to Jared in this moment, apropos of absolutely nothing, exactly what makes Jensen so infuriating. He is one hundred percent comfortable in his skin, completely confident and worried for nothing. Jared can’t counter his arguments because Jensen has no doubt in himself; he genuinely believes that he is right about everything and everyone. It’s the confidence that draws Jared in and pisses him off at the same time.
Feeling like he’s cracked the code – even though it really changes nothing – goes a long way in relaxing Jared. “I get it,” he announces, shoulders slumping forward in relief.
Jensen’s smile freezes, head tilting just a little bit in confusion. “You do, huh?”
With a knowing nod, Jared says, “It’s not about convincing someone else that you’re telling the truth. It’s about believing it yourself.”
Jensen points his knife in Jared’s directly and nods, looking somewhat impressed. “You figure that out all by yourself, Sherlock?”
"More than just a pretty face, I guess,” Jared shrugs easily, winking at the waitress when she delivers their plates to the table.
Dinner isn't exactly comfortable, but Jensen gives him tips about specific plot points and answers Jared's questions in what seems like a pretty straight-forward way so Jared tries his best to push everything else out of his mind. Once in awhile, Jensen will roll his eyes and moan a little, gushing about the food he's eating, and Jared will have a hint of a flashback but it's mostly a relatively easy business dinner.
Once they've finished and Jensen has covered the check, Jared feels looser than he has since yesterday. Jensen's not terrible company as long as Jared remembers not to trust him with any important information or anything.
"You mind if I take you on a quick tour?” Jensen asks as he maneuvers the car out of the drive and turns the opposite direction of the hotel. “Nothin' fancy, just a few places I like around here.”
A small voice in the back of his head tells Jared it's a bad idea but he nods anyway. “I guess.” He's not sure how it's going to help with his research but he's too full and pleasantly buzzed on the expensive wine Jensen bought to argue.
*~*~*
"Why'd you quit?” Jared hears himself asking without really taking the time to think about the question. “I mean, you said you never got caught or arrested or whatever. It's pretty obvious that you liked it from the way you talk about it. So why'd you get out?”
When Jensen doesn't answer right away, Jared turns to see his face, half-lit by the occasional passing street light. He's been pretty jovial most of the night, charming smile never really slipping from his lips but now he's swallowing, brow furrowed in thought. “Most important thing I can tell you, Jared, is to know your limits. When the cost is higher than the payoff, it's time to pull the plug and walk away.”
"What happened?”
The smile is back, albeit a little dimmer and more forced, when Jensen turns into the hotel parking lot. “Lesson over,” he announces, pulling to a stop in front of the hotel and jumping out of the car before Jared can protest.
By the time he manages to shoulder out of the car, Jensen has given his keys to the valet and is walking into the hotel with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He doesn't turn when Jared calls his name, just keeps walking until he disappears around the corner in the direction of the casino.
Shrugging it off, Jared heads for the elevator and takes his phone from his pocket. He calls Katie and, when she answers, he says, “I'm ready to get trashed.”
*~*~*
"Hands!” Katie calls over the pulsating beat of the music in the club.
Normally, he's a perfect gentleman but when Jared drinks his hands have a tendency to do their own thing. It's totally not his fault that Katie's ass fits perfectly into them or that it's soft and just firm enough that his inebriated fingers want to squeeze it all night.
"Sorry,” he laughs, sliding his hands back up to her hips as they sway to the beat of some song he thinks he might recognize if it wasn't being remixed until it's barely more than a generic, synthetic beat.
The tabloids like to paint him as the quintessential party boy but Jared doesn't go out that much. When he does, he's careful not to let himself get carried away because he doesn't like losing control of his image. Sometimes he hates that he has to worry about it but he's been fighting to avoid shit like that stunt Jensen pulled this morning since he started acting. He can laugh it off if it's some made up story; he doesn't want to lend credibility to the elaborate tales they weave about him.
His legs are starting to burn from a solid hour of dancing and it might be his imagination but the thinks the floor might be rolling in a little bit of a wave. “Break?” he asks Katie, who just nods gratefully.
They're waiting for their drinks when Jared feels a hand on his back, firm between his shoulder blades. He turns, fully expecting some uncomfortable fan encounter that will probably end up on a blog somewhere, and finds himself face to face with a guy who looks strangely like one of his uncles on his mom's side.
"Can I help you?” he asks, taking the glass that Katie nudges into his hand while trying to figure out if he is, indeed, related to this guy or something.
"Make sure your boss gets this to the right people,” the guy says, stuffing a small, wooden box into Jared's hand.
"My boss?” He blinks and shakes his head, which only makes the room spin a little faster. “Dude, I think you have the wrong guy.” Turning to Katie, he laughs a little and she just shakes her head like this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to them. It's not, but he's drunk enough to feel like it might be right now.
Clapping his hand on Jared's shoulder, the guy winks and says, “Wouldn't hurt to remind him old debts don't die like people do.” With that cryptic piece of information, he disappears back into the crowd.
"What the fuck?” Katie asks, reaching for Jared's hand. “Vegas is crazy, man,” she chuckles, taking the box. There's a tiny padlock on the front and it doesn't open when she tries to pull on it. “What the fuck is this?”
Jared doesn't know and he doesn't so much care. Snatching the box back, he stuffs it into his pocket and drains half of his drink before grabbing Katie's wrist. “Come on,” he yells as another song starts pounding overhead. “I love this song.”
"You don't even know this song,” Katie calls back but it doesn't matter.
He's going to enjoy at least one night of this trip if it kills him.
*~*~*
It's after two by the time they wrap themselves around each other and stumble toward the back door. Jared's not a name dropper and he'd prefer not to take too many favors from people but there are times when it pays to be a celebrity. Being able to escape a club or restaurant in relative obscurity, especially when he's drunk enough to sway with each step toward the car, doesn't suck.
The driver is waiting, engine idling, when the door clangs loudly behind them. Vegas isn't exactly a city that sleeps quietly but it's definitely not as bustling as it was a few hours ago. The arid, moist humidity sticks to his skin in much the same way that his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, both causing him to laugh like some kind hilarious joke.
Katie leans further into his side and groans, “Tomorrow is gonna suck.”
"But tonight is awesome,” Jared laughs again, kissing the top of her head.
They're almost to the car when a couple of guys step into their path, looking like something out of a bad mob movie. “Hand it over,” one of them demands.
Squawking his laughter probably isn't the right answer, but it's the only one Jared's liquor-soaked brain can come up with right now. “You guys want an autograph?” he asks, the words slurring together in a way that is even funnier than their matching black jackets and haircuts.
Katie tenses at his side, a clear sign that she's a little less hammered than he is. “You guys wanna back up a little? You're blockin' our getaway car here.”
"Oh, you're not goin' anywhere until you hand it over, Sweetheart,” the other guy says.
Jared laughs again; he's never seen anyone call Katie 'sweetheart' without a trace of irony. “Dude, she's gonna castrate you for that,” he says on another chuckle, shaking his head a little bit while he waits for Katie to go off on this fool.
Katie doesn't say anything, though, because one of the guys steps up to Jared and growls. “Gimme the box 'fore I smash your fucking face.”
Jared doesn't know what he's talking about, but his breath stinks and things are starting to seem less funny to him. “This is ridiculous. Get the fuck off me.” He tries to shoulder the guy out of the way and finds himself pinned against the side of the waiting car. “Fucker,” he starts, only to be cut off by a forearm to the throat.
While he holds Jared down, the second goon roots around in his pocket for the wooden box that the dude at the bar gave him earlier. Jared doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he can hardly breathe and there are strange hands dangerously close to his junk. This is not the way he envisioned this night turning out.
"You make sure you tell your buddy Ackles that we haven’t forgotten. Let him know if he fucks with us again, he can kiss another member of his crew good-bye.”
With that, the men disappear, leaving Jared to crumple against Katie and nearly topple both of them to the gravel. “Come on,” Katie whispers in his ear, wedging her shoulder under his arm and staggering under Jared’s weight. “Let’s get back to the hotel, okay?”
The ride back isn’t long but it gives Jared plenty of time to cycle through a thousand scenarios concerning what might have happened tonight. It was bizarre, like something out of a movie that’s been poorly-written and even more poorly-edited. Nothing fits in his head but one thing does stand out with some clarity.
When they get up to his room, Katie asks if Jared needs anything but he shrugs her off. “Just get me another meeting with Jensen,” he orders, slamming the door before he collapses onto the bed.
*~*~*
Jared’s plan – and he has one, outside of pacing angrily like a caged animal in front of his hotel window – is to punch Jensen square in his perfect jaw when he walks into the room, all smug and cocky like Jared knows he will be. It probably won’t fix anything and there’s a good chance Jensen will hit him back, but logic isn’t exactly Jared’s strong suit when he’s all riled up like this.
Jensen, however, doesn’t look smug or arrogant. Mostly, he just looks confused when Katie glares daggers at his pretty face and lets him into the room. His hands rest easily in his pockets, thumbs hooked over the edges and his shoulders shrugged a little more than they were last night. If Jared didn’t know better, he might think that Jensen knows why he’s here.
"Gotta tell ya, man, I didn’t expect you to want another lesson so soon.” His mask is back in place when he meets Jared’s eye, but there are cracks now. Jared can see them all so much clearer than he did before. “You think of more questions?”
"Oh, I’ve got questions,” Jared tells him, shaking his head in the hopes it might rattle some of his thoughts into place. “Let’s start with why the fuck half the creepy population of Vegas seems to think I work for you now?”
Jensen’s stare is blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For a brief moment, Jared is tempted to believe him. He certainly seems genuine enough. “I’m talking about the guy who slipped me some weird box last night at the club and the two yahoos who tried to smash my moneymaker to get it back,” he explains, even though he’s pretty sure Jensen already knows what he’s talking about.
Spine suddenly ramrod straight, Jensen’s eyes nearly double in size. “Where’s the box?”
"Wherever the dude who wanted to break my face put it,” Jared hazards a guess, though he doesn’t much give a damn.
"Fuckin’ hell, Jared,” Jensen growls, standing from the bed to rake his fingers through his hair. “You just let ‘em have it?”
"When the other option was having my face rearranged, yeah, Jensen, I let ‘em have it.” Once again, punching him doesn’t seem like the world’s worst idea.
Jared isn't sure what else to say as Jensen paces the end of the bed and curses under his breath for the next few minutes. When he stops, it's so sudden that Jared startles a little. “I need my crew.”
"I'm sorry. Your what?” It sounds ridiculous, not something that normal people say in regular conversation and Jared can't help laughing.
But Jensen's face is anything but humored as he heads for the door and points toward Jared and Katie. “Do not leave this room until you hear from me. Do you understand?”
Rolling his eyes in response, Jared flops back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. When he hears the door click shut, he throws an arm over his face and groans. “Remind me again how much I need this movie?”
*~*~*
Jensen's crew, as it turns out, consists of a petite little thing named Danneel who enjoys touching everything in Jared's room and a wild-eyed guy, Misha, who barely looks up long enough to plop down at the desk and unpacking his laptop. Jensen's not here yet and Jared can't help wondering how in the hell he ended up babysitting a couple of con artists on the last full day of his vacation.
Katie is trying to make small talk with Danneel – it's kind of painful to watch – and Jared is studiously ignoring them all from his seat in the corner when Jensen comes into the room without bothering to knock. He's wearing that leather jacket from the first day and Jared hates that he still finds the guy so attractive after everything that has happened.
"Where's Tom?” Jensen asks and Danneel just shrugs in response.
Misha finally looks up from his computer to say, “Uh, he's not coming,” and then goes right back to typing.
Jensen doesn't seem thrilled with this news. “Why the fuck not? I need him for recon.”
Pushing his chair back, Misha turns and kicks his feet up. “I don't know, boss,” he answers and even Jared can hear the sarcasm in his voice. “I'm gonna guess, though, that it has something to do with the way he barely made it out alive last time.”
Danneel flips her hair over her shoulder and adds, “I think he meant it when he said you should never try to contact him again.” Jensen glares at her but she just shoots him a smile and goes back to rubbing her fingers over the pillows on the opposite side of Jared's bed.
"We need him for this,” Jensen seethes, hand brushing over his hair in what Jared is learning is one of his few nervous gestures. The other night, Jensen taught him that it was called a 'tell' and that even the best in the business have one. Jared's kind of proud that he found Jensen's, even though he'll never be able to use it for anything.
Misha looks over his shoulder and then back at his leader. “He's about the same size.”
Laughing, Jensen shakes his head. “We'll revamp. He's a little high profile for this.”
"Obviously, he's not,” Danneel interrupts. “I mean, they clearly already think he's on board.”
Jared isn't a fan of being discussed as though he's not even in the room. “I'm not a part of this,” he reminds Jensen, who just waves him off. “I mean it, Jensen. I don't want anything to do with any of whatever this is.”
"I know,” Jensen snaps. “I'm not askin' you to do shit. Just shut the hell up and let me think.”
Doing as he's told, Jared sinks back and watches Katie ease onto the bed beside him. “I thought he was retired,” Jared says to her. Though he keeps his voice low, Jensen shoots him a dirty look and keeps pacing.
With a shrug, Katie settles back and rests her head on Jared's shoulder. “I think he's being forced out.”
"D'you run into this guy the other night, Jared?” Misha asks, flipping his computer around to show Jared a picture.
Jared leans forward a little and nods. “He's the one that stuffed the box in my pocket.”
Before Jensen can respond, Danneel's eyebrow shoots up. “Isn't he one of Fuller's men?” Hands on her hips, she narrows her eyes. “When'd you start fencin' for Fuller again?”
"I'm not,” Jensen insists. “He must have seen me at dinner the other night or something. I haven't talked to anyone.”
"What about this guy, Jared?” Misha asks, hitting a few keys to bring up another picture.
"He was one of the guys that stole it,” Katie nods, filling in the blanks where Jared was too drunk to remember.
Jensen stops short and grips his short hair in two hands. “That's. Oh, fuck.”
"What the hell does Pellegrino's crew want with an ancient Romanian artifiact?” Misha asks.
"My guess?” Danneel interjects, sinking to the end of Jared's bed. “Not a damn thing. He just wants to screw Jensen.”
Misha sounds bitter when he asks, “What? One body's not enough for him?”
"Whoa, wait, what?” Jared thinks he's been doing pretty good at keeping his mouth shut but now they're not talking about stealing, they're talking about bodies.
"Eight months ago, we were workin' a job out here,” Danneel starts, only to be cut off by Jensen's voice, high and angry.
"Dani, shut up!”
She's unfazed. “Jensen, they already made him. He's in this, whether he wants to be or not.”
He wants to argue but Jensen meets his eye and says, “I'm sorry.” It's the first thing Jared's really believed since he met Jensen. “Guys, can you give me a second alone with Jared?”
Danneel, Misha, and Katie file out of the room and Jared watches wordlessly as Jensen watches the door click shut. His posture drops, the cocky facade Jared has known for the last few days melting away.
"Lesson?” He gives Jared a small smile and a shrug. “Confident is success. Cocky is failure. The line between them is way too easy to blur. You forget it for a second and people die.”
He's almost afraid to ask but Jared hears himself asking, “What happened?”
"I fucked up,” Jensen tells him, face open and vulnerable. “I sent Aldis in unprotected. Next thing I know, there's a knock on the back door and we open it up to find him lying there, two bullet holes in his chest and nobody else in sight.” He scrubs a hand over his face and meets Jared's eye. “I can't prove it was Pellegrino, but he's never really denied it, either.”
Jared doesn't really know what to say. The truth is that he's always been better with someone else writing his words for him. “Jensen,” he starts and then snaps his mouth shut again. It's obvious that his crew isn't just a few people he pulls together and works with on occasion. He's really messed up over this Aldis guy and whatever he meant to this family of criminals.
"I shouldn't have come back here,” he says, hand going to the back of his neck again. “I damn sure shouldn't have called them back here and you,” he stops and shakes his head, eyes serious when they meet Jared's. “Man, I'm sorry I brought this down on you.”
A small voice in the back of Jared’s head says to watch his step, that Jensen has lied to him before and could easily be doing it again. It whispers that this is what Jensen does, he lures people in however he can and then drops giant bombs on their heads that they never saw coming.
It’s not logical, though. If anyone knows that Jared isn’t cut out for this con thing yet, it’s Jensen. Maybe he’ll be able to pull it off on screen in a few months but there’s no way in hell he could do it for real. He figures tugging on his emotions to rope him into something like this is stupid and Jensen wouldn’t take that kind of a chance.
None of it makes sense, he doesn’t know what to believe anymore, so he just nods his head and says, “Don’t worry about me.”
"For what it’s worth,” Jensen answers, his voice dropping low in the limited space between them, “I’m not sorry for the other night. Pretty much everything that’s happened since but not for that.”
He probably shouldn’t close the distance between them, run his thumb over Jensen’s bottom lip or lean in to trace the same path with his tongue; Jared does it anyway. He doesn’t know what kind of technique Jensen has used with other marks in the past but this is the one that hooked him. The other night, before he knew Jensen was an ass with a dangerous past, he was a really cool guy with awesome hands and the best lips Jared had ever kissed. He was fun to talk to, interesting and laid back. He was the kind of guy that Jared thought he’d remember pretty fondly for awhile, mostly when he was in the shower or alone at night.
Jensen slides his fingers up the back of Jared’s neck and into his hair, holding him in place while he slips his tongue into Jared’s mouth and runs his other hand down his chest. His fingers skim the skin above Jared's waistband and, even though he knows it's stupid, Jared doesn't stop him. Instead, he grabs the back of Jensen's head and guides him back toward the bed. Now isn't really the time for this but it's starting to feel like this is the only thing that matters.
Heavy breath ghosts against his ear and Jared fumbles with the buckle on Jensen's belt. Dropping his hand a little, he squeezes over Jensen's hardening cock and smiles against his jaw when Jensen groans and rolls his hips up into Jared's hand. “Yeah,” he pants, fingers tightening in Jared's hair. “God, yeah, Jared. Do it,” he begs.
He gets the belt open and starts on Jensen's zipper when a hard knock pops the bubble around them. It's probably for the best but Jared doesn't like it. It makes him feel better to know that Jensen doesn't seem any less overjoyed at the prospect of being interrupted.
Struggling to sit under Jared's weight, Jensen gives him a soft smile and rests on his elbows. “Come in,” he calls out and Jared rolls over to let him straighten his clothes back out again.
Danneel and Katie roll their eyes and Misha just shakes his head when they see Jared and Jensen sprawled out on the bed.
"Dude, really?” Katie is the first to speak, her eyebrow arched in condescension.
With a shrug, Jared combs his fingers through his hair and tries to look more nonplussed than he feels. “No time like the present, right?”
"I don't really care if you two lock yourselves in here and fuck like bunnies when this shit's over but for now, we gotta figure out how to get the box back and quick.” Danneel looked flakey and downright crazy when she walked in the first time. Now she's kind of scary in that she's totally focused, eyes narrowed at Jensen. “I'm goin' to talk to Fuller,” she announces. “Tell him you have the box but you're not delivering it for him. I can convince him that you decided you wanna keep the take for yourself,” she explains.
"How the hell would you know that if I'm not working with you anymore?” Jensen pokes a hole in her nefarious scheme.
But Danneel just laughs like she can't believe Jensen could be so stupid. “Sweetie, Fuller's smart and he's slick but he's still a man,” she winks, hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them once for effect. “You let me worry about him. Now,” she looks at Jared in a way that makes him not at all comfortable. “I hear you're an actor, Mr. Padalecki.”
He can already tell this is going to end very, very badly.
Part 2
Author:
raeschaeWordcount: 15K
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Summary: When Jared heads to Las Vegas to research a role that could launch his career, he isn't anticipating the lessons that reformed con artist, Jensen Ackles, will teach him. Jensen isn't as reformed as he claims to be, though, and Jared is about to learn the art of the con the hard way.
Notes: Written for
spn_reversebang. Thanks to transfixeddream for looking it over for me. And special thanks to tinkabell007 for the super-cool art that inspired this fic. Martina, you've been so encouraging of this idea from the beginning. I hope you feel this story does your art justice! There are a lot of things Jared loves about his job but, as he stretches out against the soft sheets and firm mattress of the gigantic hotel bed, he decides that studio-paid “research” trips are at the top of the list. If he could move his arms and legs, he would definitely text his brother to make sure he knows that acting is definitely cooler than saving lives as a surgeon. Instead, he stretches as far as he can and onto his stomach to fill in the vacant place at his side.
He has this reputation back in Hollywood for being the guy who dates a new up-and-coming starlet every other week. His publicist, Katie, says that it's best to just to show up, do his work and let the tabloids make up whatever story they want. America loves a party boy with a heart of gold, apparently, more than they would love the guy who hasn't gotten laid since his boyfriend left him for a tennis instructor eight months ago.
Smiling, he scratches blunt nails over his chest and thinks that he can't complain about that anymore. He has, in fact, been laid since Kwan left. He wasn't planning it or anything – this was supposed to be like any other business trip – but the guy at the bar was cool, not to mention ridiculously good-looking and totally interested in buying Jared drinks. He didn't expect him to be here this morning but it feels good to be back on the horse again, so to speak.
Nearly drifting back to sleep, Jared bolts upright when the door of his room slams open and Katie comes charging toward the bed. “What the fuck did I tell you?” She tosses what appears to be a newspaper onto the bed and rests her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed and more angry than Jared has ever seen them. “I cannot fucking believe that you are so monumentally fucking stupid!”
It's not the first time that she's been pissed at Jared but it's the first time she's called him stupid while sounding like she'd also like to rip his head off of his shoulders. He doesn't even bother looking down, just rakes his fingers through his hair and shifts the sheets around his hips to keep from exposing anymore of himself to the woman who's already seen it all. “I feel like I should apologize,” he smiles feebily.
When Katie growls under her breath, Jared looks down and promptly feels like he might throw up. “No way,” he shakes his head in disbelief. This isn't even possible.
Staring back at him is a picture of himself, pressed up against the door of what looks like his hotel with the hot guy from last night's thigh wedge between his legs. Jared's got one hand on the back of the guy's head and the other dipping into the back of his pants. Sure, he remembers kissing the guy when they got into the room but he had a hell of a lot more to drink than he thought if he was making out with him like this in the hallway.
“But I didn't,” he starts and then stops, scrubbing a hand over his face again. “How is this even out yet?” His eyes dart to the bedside table, the angry red number glowing back at him with what feels like their own brand of disapproval. “We didn't even come back here until after midnight.” It's only seven thirty – no paper prints up that fast, does it?
For a long time, Katie paces the foot of the bed, hands on the top of her head as she opens her mouth and then snaps it shut again. “You said you didn't want to come out publicly and I respected that. I thought we had a plan, Jared!”
“We did!” he snaps back, starting to stand before he remembers that the sheet needs to come with him. “We do. I mean, this isn't the end of the world, right? We can work this out.” He tells himself that he sounds more rugged and masculine, less scared and six years old.
With a sigh, she throws her hands out and nods. “I'll think of something. Take a shower. You're meeting with that consultant at eight.”
Jared stumbles into the shower, mind reeling along with the floor under his feet. Last night was amazing and the guy... Oh, fuck, the guy. He's about to get a crash course in what it means to fuck a celebrity and Jared doesn't have his number to warn him. At least, he doesn't think he has it. They didn't talk about exchanging them. Outside of vague and random chatter in the bar, they didn't talk much at all.
By the time he climbs out of the shower and manages to dress himself, Jared has gone back and forth between 'end of the world' and 'not that big of a deal' at least four times. Katie's damn good at what she does and this movie is going to be a blockbuster summer release. He can rise above it. He can bounce back.
When he steps back into the bedroom, Katie is perched on the edge of the bed, talking to a guy in jeans and a fitted leather jacket who's holding the tabloid in his hands. At first, Jared thinks this must be someone Katie called for damage control, but when the guy turns and smiles, Jared stops dead in his tracks.
“How'd you find him?” Jared asks Katie, though he's still looking directly at the hot guy from last night. The guy whose name he doesn't remember and whose number he doesn't know.
Smile tweaking the corner of her lips, Katie stands and nods over her shoulder. “Jared, meet Jensen Ackles. Your con-sultant.”
He's in Vegas to meet with a con man cum studio consultant – a guy brought in by the production company to help the authenticity of the script and performances. “You played me,” Jared states when Jensen stands and tosses the tabloid onto the dresser. “You knew who I was and you.” He stops and rests his hand on the back of his neck. “Fuck.”
“Welcome to lesson one, Jared,” Jensen grins, as though he has no remorse for conning Jared into bed last night. He turns to Katie and then nods toward Jared again. “Can we get a minute alone?”
She pats Jared's shoulder softly as she brushes past him, excusing herself into the hall.
It's quiet for awhile, Jared trying to wrap his head around what he's learned. He feels violated and manipulated. Dirty. He hasn't felt dirty in a long time. “The fuck is wrong with you, huh?”
Jensen smirks again, cool and collected. “First of all, the only part of last night that was a planned was picking you up in the bar and getting the picture in the hall. Everything that happened after that had nothing to do with business.”
Eyes narrowed, Jared crosses his arms over his chest. He's not much of a fighter, but he doesn't usually have to be. His size is usually intimidating enough on its own. “Why in the hell would I believe that?”
"You shouldn't,” Jensen shrugs, resting his hands comfortably in his pockets. “A good con rests on the confidence of the artist. Trust no one but your own instincts. And you trust those implicitly.” Stepping binto Jared's personal space, Jensen studies his face a little too closely and then asks, “What do your instincts say about last night?”
He swallows hard because having Jensen this close is bringing back memories his dick does not need to be remembering right now. He's pissed off, has good reason to be, and he does need the smell or the feeling of Jensen's breath against his throat making him forget that. “You sure it doesn't rely on the conniving of its mastermind?” he asks – in his head, it sounds reasonably intelligent.
This time, Jensen chuckles a little as he steps even closer, his chest brushing Jared's and his lips ghosting over the junction of his neck and shoulder. “A con man does whatever he has to do to pull off his job.” His nose bumps against Jared's jaw. “An artist believes in it enough not to regret anything.”
Taking a broad step back, Jared shakes his head. He can feel his eyebrow raising. “You had to know that this was gonna piss me off,” he tries to reason. He doesn't even know this guy and he certainly doesn't like him nearly as much as he did last night.
"Sure.” Hating him would be easier if Jensen's smile wasn't so electrifying. “I was thinking about that at first. But once a con is done, you put it out of your head and you move on. I was done with it by the time we stepped through the door.”
"Can you stop being my consultant for five minutes and talk to me like a regular person?” He stops short of saying 'like the guy you were last night' when he realizes that the guy Jensen was last night is probably not who he is. This whole thing is giving him a confusing headache.
Finally, Jensen takes a step back and crosses his arms, leather pulling tight across his shoulders. “It was unprofessional of me to let things go so far, I admit that. I'm usually really good at separating my business from my pleasure, but I'm still human. And you have really great hands.”
Rolling his eyes, Jared feels his shoulders relaxing. Maybe Jensen is full of shit but Jared didn't get into acting for the love of the craft. That may be why he keeps doing it but the love of attention has at least a little bit do with it. Every actor has an ego that needs stroking and Jensen is damn good with the stroking.
"Alright, fine,” he concedes. He's definitely been in situations where he's gotten carried away before, so he can give Jensen that much. It's still disconcerting. “At least tell me what the point was. I mean, how was any of that necessary?”
"Wanted you to see how smoothly a good con can go, and how elaborate it can be in a really short period of time,” Jensen explains with a shrug. “If you're good at what you do, you can make things happen like that,” he says with a snap of his fingers.
If Jared is trusting this gut, then Jensen is full of it. “You sure it wasn't just to see me freak out?” Jensen just quirks a small smile and shakes his head. “Look, man, I'm sure you're very good at what you do but I don't think this is gonna work. I think I'm just gonna do my own research.”
"How? You gonna watch Ocean's Eleven a few times? Maybe download some White Collar?” Jensen huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry, okay? I let things go too far and I shouldn't have, but the studio's payin' me to show you the ropes. You strike out on your own and I'm out of a job here.”
Jared waivers between punching him and just telling him to fuck off. Instead, he says, “I'm so sorry for you,” in the most sarcastic tone he can muster.
"Jared, I was one of the best in the game. Never got caught. Retired on my own. I can teach you everything you need to know to nail this role.” He tilts his head, expression serious for the first time since he walked into the room. “You gotta decide if your can check your emotions long enough to let me do that. Personal feelings can't factor into this.”
He side-steps and passes Jared without so much as a brush of their shoulders. Jared lets him go without a word because, really, what is he going to say? He's still pissed, feels used like he hasn't since high school, and all he wants to do is crawl back into bed. Fuck this movie and fuck Jensen Ackles. It's just acting – Jared can fake it on his own. He doesn't need this.
"I can't believe you were in on this!”
Katie stares back at Jared from the edge of his bed, legs crossed while he paces back and forth with little aim or purpose. Every time he thinks that his anger toward Jensen is starting to ebb a little bit, it flows right back over again and he wants to punch something. Hard.
With a non-committal shrug, Katie's eyes grow wider. “What do you want me to say? He's very convincing!”
If he wasn't, they wouldn't be having this conversation but that doesn't make Jared feel any better. “Well, it's good to know that you can be bought with a smile and a fifty,” he shoots back, fingers tearing through his hair.
"It was five hundred,” Katie holds a finger up, like she's offended that Jared would think so little of her. “And I don't so much see as you have room to judge, Mr. Slutty Pants.” Jared raises an eyebrow in response and Katie rolls her eyes. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't know, somewhere deep down in the place that is capable of thinking beyond your own hurt feelings, that you need this.”
"He conned me into sleeping with him!”
Even as the words roll out of his mouth, Jared knows they're not entirely true. Jensen's good, no doubt, but it's not like he got Jared so wasted that he couldn't say 'no.' If he's really honest with himself, he wanted to sleep with the guy before he ever sank to that bar stool at Jared's side, but that doesn't make him feel any better about the entire situation, either, so he chooses not to think about it.
Standing, Katie squares her shoulders and levels him with one of those 'I'm tired of fucking around with you' looks she's notorious for around Hollywood. “Lemme be real honest with you, Jared. You're twenty-eight years old. The days of playing high school jocks and college frat boys are about over for you and if you wanna keep working, if you want some roles that don't rest on the credibility of your bare torso, you're gonna have to start ponying up with some projects that have some weight. This one has a shit ton of award buzz and respectability. You're at a crossroads.” She points over Jared's shoulder. “This part is over there, with a lot more lined up behind it.” Pointing over the other, she adds, “Piss it away because of some personal grudge and your obscurity awaits you over there, with a bag of Cheetos and an apartment you share with what's his name Murray.”
"Dammit,” Jared stamps his foot like the kid he's apparently not supposed to be anymore. “Katie, I can't work with him.”
"You're only here for three more days. I'm not asking you to sleep with him again. I'm not asking you to be his best friend or spend that much time with him. Just one more meeting, listen to what he has to say, take a few notes. Do it for your career, and I will take you out later and get you so plastered you forget all about the rest of this.” Giving him her best pouty face, she steps into his personal space and actually bats her eyelashes. “C'mon, Jared. Please? For me?”
If he had an ounce of resistance toward her, he would hold his ground. Of course, he never would have made that teen angst movie four years ago and would still be living in virtual obscurity if he could say no to her, so maybe Katie has earned the right to boss him around a little.
"Okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. Clearing his throat, he says, “Set up a meeting later, not in the room where we -,” he trails off and waves vaguely at the bed. “Just, tell him he's payin' for dinner.”
Like the drama queen that he can sometimes be, Jared storms out of the room and slams the door. It's not much, but it makes him feel a little bit better.
By the time he's had a drink at the hotel bar, Jared is feeling a little bit more relaxed. He spent most of the day walking around, just off the strip, trying to blend in and sort out his thoughts. He desperately wants to hang on to his anger, not to mention the hurt that's fueling it, but Katie's right. He needs this role if he's going to move forward in his career. He'll kick himself forever if he lets one indiscretion derail that.
He's starting on his second Manhattan when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder. Turning, he sees Jensen raise a hand to the bartender and then nods toward Jared's hand. “Hi,” he grins, white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. “Hope you haven't been waiting too long.”
His first reaction is to shrug Jensen's touch away but he's going to school his emotions if it kills him. They were supposed to meet at eight; it's going on eight forty-five. “You're late,” he points out as Jensen eases onto the bench at his side.
With an easy shrug, Jensen gives the bartender another bright smile as he accepts his own drink. Angling his body toward Jared's, he gives a slight nod of concession. “Sorry about that. I was in the middle of something else.”
There are a million biting retorts on the tip of his tongue so Jared is pretty proud of the way he mimicks Jensen cool demeanor and takes a drink of his own. “We have reservations at nine,” is all he says, standing with half-wave to the bartender before he leaves, never bothering to see if Jensen is following him.
The valet brings his car around and Jensen snatches the keys with another bright smile. “Pretty sure I know this town better than you do.”
"It's my car!”
Jensen doesn't seem to care as he walks easily around to the driver's side and waits for Jared to join him. “If you don't come with me, it's just gonna look like I'm stealing it.” Jared raises an eyebrow; honestly, getting Jensen arrested for grand theft auto doesn't sound like the worst idea right now. “Man, I will have this thing sold off, stripped down, and virtually unrecognizable before you finish the police report. Come on.”
They head to the restaurant in relative silence, Jensen's singing with the radio the only sound between them. It's hard not to notice his onyx cuff links or the perfect fit of the suit he's wearing. The scent of his cologne is awesome, too, so that's not making Jared any more comfortable. It'd be nice if he'd at least sing off-key.
It's not until they're seated and Jensen has ordered for both of them that Jared speaks. “Let's just make this really simple, okay? Tell me what I need to know and let's just call it a day.”
"Man, you would make a terrible con man.” Jensen chuckles as he shakes his head, tipping his wine glass to his lips.
Shifting in his seat, Jared leans forward, elbows on the table. “You do know you're not actually training me to be a real con man, right? I'm an actor.”
"I love this moral superiority you have,” Jensen just angles his head and holds Jared's eye before his smile fades. “You pretend to be something you're not for money, Jared. How is that different than what I do?”
With a huff, Jared asks, “Are you kidding?” Jensen doesn't laugh. “I don't do it for real!”
"Don't you?” Jensen asks, leaning in across the table. “Last night, you were balls deep in my ass and loving it. Last week, you were on the cover of three magazines with three different women hanging off your arms. And you're gonna tell me that you don't pretend for real?”
Not for the first time in his life, Jared wishes that he could at least claim to be bisexual. With a heavy sigh, he falls back in his chair and shakes his head. “You know that's not the same thing.”
Playful grin back in place, Jensen mirrors Jared's pose by crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back. “Is it not? You do it, I'm assuming, because it's easier to get work if your sexuality isn't an issue, yes?” Jared barely shrugs, though he'd rather not let Jensen think he's on to something. “Getting work means getting paid, right?”
Though his head is still telling him that Jensen is full of shit, a tiny voice in the back of Jared's head is telling him that Jensen is right. “But what I'm doing isn't hurting anybody,” he fights back.
"Some would argue that it's hurting thousands of gay kids who are never going to have enough role models in their lives. Also, I could tell you that I don't take anything from anyone who can't afford to lose it,” Jensen shoots back automatically, with a broad smirk. He's clearly thought this discussion over before tonight and is enjoying the fact that he finally gets to see how it plays out in reality.
Because he knows he has no argument left – at least not one Jensen isn’t going to have a neatly packaged, well considered answer for – Jared just shakes his head and lets himself study Jensen’s face for a minute before he speaks. “You really can rationalize anything, can’t you?”
Jensen barely shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, but that doesn’t make me an asshole. That makes me human.”
It occurs to Jared in this moment, apropos of absolutely nothing, exactly what makes Jensen so infuriating. He is one hundred percent comfortable in his skin, completely confident and worried for nothing. Jared can’t counter his arguments because Jensen has no doubt in himself; he genuinely believes that he is right about everything and everyone. It’s the confidence that draws Jared in and pisses him off at the same time.
Feeling like he’s cracked the code – even though it really changes nothing – goes a long way in relaxing Jared. “I get it,” he announces, shoulders slumping forward in relief.
Jensen’s smile freezes, head tilting just a little bit in confusion. “You do, huh?”
With a knowing nod, Jared says, “It’s not about convincing someone else that you’re telling the truth. It’s about believing it yourself.”
Jensen points his knife in Jared’s directly and nods, looking somewhat impressed. “You figure that out all by yourself, Sherlock?”
"More than just a pretty face, I guess,” Jared shrugs easily, winking at the waitress when she delivers their plates to the table.
Dinner isn't exactly comfortable, but Jensen gives him tips about specific plot points and answers Jared's questions in what seems like a pretty straight-forward way so Jared tries his best to push everything else out of his mind. Once in awhile, Jensen will roll his eyes and moan a little, gushing about the food he's eating, and Jared will have a hint of a flashback but it's mostly a relatively easy business dinner.
Once they've finished and Jensen has covered the check, Jared feels looser than he has since yesterday. Jensen's not terrible company as long as Jared remembers not to trust him with any important information or anything.
"You mind if I take you on a quick tour?” Jensen asks as he maneuvers the car out of the drive and turns the opposite direction of the hotel. “Nothin' fancy, just a few places I like around here.”
A small voice in the back of his head tells Jared it's a bad idea but he nods anyway. “I guess.” He's not sure how it's going to help with his research but he's too full and pleasantly buzzed on the expensive wine Jensen bought to argue.
"Why'd you quit?” Jared hears himself asking without really taking the time to think about the question. “I mean, you said you never got caught or arrested or whatever. It's pretty obvious that you liked it from the way you talk about it. So why'd you get out?”
When Jensen doesn't answer right away, Jared turns to see his face, half-lit by the occasional passing street light. He's been pretty jovial most of the night, charming smile never really slipping from his lips but now he's swallowing, brow furrowed in thought. “Most important thing I can tell you, Jared, is to know your limits. When the cost is higher than the payoff, it's time to pull the plug and walk away.”
"What happened?”
The smile is back, albeit a little dimmer and more forced, when Jensen turns into the hotel parking lot. “Lesson over,” he announces, pulling to a stop in front of the hotel and jumping out of the car before Jared can protest.
By the time he manages to shoulder out of the car, Jensen has given his keys to the valet and is walking into the hotel with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He doesn't turn when Jared calls his name, just keeps walking until he disappears around the corner in the direction of the casino.
Shrugging it off, Jared heads for the elevator and takes his phone from his pocket. He calls Katie and, when she answers, he says, “I'm ready to get trashed.”
"Hands!” Katie calls over the pulsating beat of the music in the club.
Normally, he's a perfect gentleman but when Jared drinks his hands have a tendency to do their own thing. It's totally not his fault that Katie's ass fits perfectly into them or that it's soft and just firm enough that his inebriated fingers want to squeeze it all night.
"Sorry,” he laughs, sliding his hands back up to her hips as they sway to the beat of some song he thinks he might recognize if it wasn't being remixed until it's barely more than a generic, synthetic beat.
The tabloids like to paint him as the quintessential party boy but Jared doesn't go out that much. When he does, he's careful not to let himself get carried away because he doesn't like losing control of his image. Sometimes he hates that he has to worry about it but he's been fighting to avoid shit like that stunt Jensen pulled this morning since he started acting. He can laugh it off if it's some made up story; he doesn't want to lend credibility to the elaborate tales they weave about him.
His legs are starting to burn from a solid hour of dancing and it might be his imagination but the thinks the floor might be rolling in a little bit of a wave. “Break?” he asks Katie, who just nods gratefully.
They're waiting for their drinks when Jared feels a hand on his back, firm between his shoulder blades. He turns, fully expecting some uncomfortable fan encounter that will probably end up on a blog somewhere, and finds himself face to face with a guy who looks strangely like one of his uncles on his mom's side.
"Can I help you?” he asks, taking the glass that Katie nudges into his hand while trying to figure out if he is, indeed, related to this guy or something.
"Make sure your boss gets this to the right people,” the guy says, stuffing a small, wooden box into Jared's hand.
"My boss?” He blinks and shakes his head, which only makes the room spin a little faster. “Dude, I think you have the wrong guy.” Turning to Katie, he laughs a little and she just shakes her head like this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to them. It's not, but he's drunk enough to feel like it might be right now.
Clapping his hand on Jared's shoulder, the guy winks and says, “Wouldn't hurt to remind him old debts don't die like people do.” With that cryptic piece of information, he disappears back into the crowd.
"What the fuck?” Katie asks, reaching for Jared's hand. “Vegas is crazy, man,” she chuckles, taking the box. There's a tiny padlock on the front and it doesn't open when she tries to pull on it. “What the fuck is this?”
Jared doesn't know and he doesn't so much care. Snatching the box back, he stuffs it into his pocket and drains half of his drink before grabbing Katie's wrist. “Come on,” he yells as another song starts pounding overhead. “I love this song.”
"You don't even know this song,” Katie calls back but it doesn't matter.
He's going to enjoy at least one night of this trip if it kills him.
It's after two by the time they wrap themselves around each other and stumble toward the back door. Jared's not a name dropper and he'd prefer not to take too many favors from people but there are times when it pays to be a celebrity. Being able to escape a club or restaurant in relative obscurity, especially when he's drunk enough to sway with each step toward the car, doesn't suck.
The driver is waiting, engine idling, when the door clangs loudly behind them. Vegas isn't exactly a city that sleeps quietly but it's definitely not as bustling as it was a few hours ago. The arid, moist humidity sticks to his skin in much the same way that his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, both causing him to laugh like some kind hilarious joke.
Katie leans further into his side and groans, “Tomorrow is gonna suck.”
"But tonight is awesome,” Jared laughs again, kissing the top of her head.
They're almost to the car when a couple of guys step into their path, looking like something out of a bad mob movie. “Hand it over,” one of them demands.
Squawking his laughter probably isn't the right answer, but it's the only one Jared's liquor-soaked brain can come up with right now. “You guys want an autograph?” he asks, the words slurring together in a way that is even funnier than their matching black jackets and haircuts.
Katie tenses at his side, a clear sign that she's a little less hammered than he is. “You guys wanna back up a little? You're blockin' our getaway car here.”
"Oh, you're not goin' anywhere until you hand it over, Sweetheart,” the other guy says.
Jared laughs again; he's never seen anyone call Katie 'sweetheart' without a trace of irony. “Dude, she's gonna castrate you for that,” he says on another chuckle, shaking his head a little bit while he waits for Katie to go off on this fool.
Katie doesn't say anything, though, because one of the guys steps up to Jared and growls. “Gimme the box 'fore I smash your fucking face.”
Jared doesn't know what he's talking about, but his breath stinks and things are starting to seem less funny to him. “This is ridiculous. Get the fuck off me.” He tries to shoulder the guy out of the way and finds himself pinned against the side of the waiting car. “Fucker,” he starts, only to be cut off by a forearm to the throat.
While he holds Jared down, the second goon roots around in his pocket for the wooden box that the dude at the bar gave him earlier. Jared doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he can hardly breathe and there are strange hands dangerously close to his junk. This is not the way he envisioned this night turning out.
"You make sure you tell your buddy Ackles that we haven’t forgotten. Let him know if he fucks with us again, he can kiss another member of his crew good-bye.”
With that, the men disappear, leaving Jared to crumple against Katie and nearly topple both of them to the gravel. “Come on,” Katie whispers in his ear, wedging her shoulder under his arm and staggering under Jared’s weight. “Let’s get back to the hotel, okay?”
The ride back isn’t long but it gives Jared plenty of time to cycle through a thousand scenarios concerning what might have happened tonight. It was bizarre, like something out of a movie that’s been poorly-written and even more poorly-edited. Nothing fits in his head but one thing does stand out with some clarity.
When they get up to his room, Katie asks if Jared needs anything but he shrugs her off. “Just get me another meeting with Jensen,” he orders, slamming the door before he collapses onto the bed.
Jared’s plan – and he has one, outside of pacing angrily like a caged animal in front of his hotel window – is to punch Jensen square in his perfect jaw when he walks into the room, all smug and cocky like Jared knows he will be. It probably won’t fix anything and there’s a good chance Jensen will hit him back, but logic isn’t exactly Jared’s strong suit when he’s all riled up like this.
Jensen, however, doesn’t look smug or arrogant. Mostly, he just looks confused when Katie glares daggers at his pretty face and lets him into the room. His hands rest easily in his pockets, thumbs hooked over the edges and his shoulders shrugged a little more than they were last night. If Jared didn’t know better, he might think that Jensen knows why he’s here.
"Gotta tell ya, man, I didn’t expect you to want another lesson so soon.” His mask is back in place when he meets Jared’s eye, but there are cracks now. Jared can see them all so much clearer than he did before. “You think of more questions?”
"Oh, I’ve got questions,” Jared tells him, shaking his head in the hopes it might rattle some of his thoughts into place. “Let’s start with why the fuck half the creepy population of Vegas seems to think I work for you now?”
Jensen’s stare is blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For a brief moment, Jared is tempted to believe him. He certainly seems genuine enough. “I’m talking about the guy who slipped me some weird box last night at the club and the two yahoos who tried to smash my moneymaker to get it back,” he explains, even though he’s pretty sure Jensen already knows what he’s talking about.
Spine suddenly ramrod straight, Jensen’s eyes nearly double in size. “Where’s the box?”
"Wherever the dude who wanted to break my face put it,” Jared hazards a guess, though he doesn’t much give a damn.
"Fuckin’ hell, Jared,” Jensen growls, standing from the bed to rake his fingers through his hair. “You just let ‘em have it?”
"When the other option was having my face rearranged, yeah, Jensen, I let ‘em have it.” Once again, punching him doesn’t seem like the world’s worst idea.
Jared isn't sure what else to say as Jensen paces the end of the bed and curses under his breath for the next few minutes. When he stops, it's so sudden that Jared startles a little. “I need my crew.”
"I'm sorry. Your what?” It sounds ridiculous, not something that normal people say in regular conversation and Jared can't help laughing.
But Jensen's face is anything but humored as he heads for the door and points toward Jared and Katie. “Do not leave this room until you hear from me. Do you understand?”
Rolling his eyes in response, Jared flops back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. When he hears the door click shut, he throws an arm over his face and groans. “Remind me again how much I need this movie?”
Jensen's crew, as it turns out, consists of a petite little thing named Danneel who enjoys touching everything in Jared's room and a wild-eyed guy, Misha, who barely looks up long enough to plop down at the desk and unpacking his laptop. Jensen's not here yet and Jared can't help wondering how in the hell he ended up babysitting a couple of con artists on the last full day of his vacation.
Katie is trying to make small talk with Danneel – it's kind of painful to watch – and Jared is studiously ignoring them all from his seat in the corner when Jensen comes into the room without bothering to knock. He's wearing that leather jacket from the first day and Jared hates that he still finds the guy so attractive after everything that has happened.
"Where's Tom?” Jensen asks and Danneel just shrugs in response.
Misha finally looks up from his computer to say, “Uh, he's not coming,” and then goes right back to typing.
Jensen doesn't seem thrilled with this news. “Why the fuck not? I need him for recon.”
Pushing his chair back, Misha turns and kicks his feet up. “I don't know, boss,” he answers and even Jared can hear the sarcasm in his voice. “I'm gonna guess, though, that it has something to do with the way he barely made it out alive last time.”
Danneel flips her hair over her shoulder and adds, “I think he meant it when he said you should never try to contact him again.” Jensen glares at her but she just shoots him a smile and goes back to rubbing her fingers over the pillows on the opposite side of Jared's bed.
"We need him for this,” Jensen seethes, hand brushing over his hair in what Jared is learning is one of his few nervous gestures. The other night, Jensen taught him that it was called a 'tell' and that even the best in the business have one. Jared's kind of proud that he found Jensen's, even though he'll never be able to use it for anything.
Misha looks over his shoulder and then back at his leader. “He's about the same size.”
Laughing, Jensen shakes his head. “We'll revamp. He's a little high profile for this.”
"Obviously, he's not,” Danneel interrupts. “I mean, they clearly already think he's on board.”
Jared isn't a fan of being discussed as though he's not even in the room. “I'm not a part of this,” he reminds Jensen, who just waves him off. “I mean it, Jensen. I don't want anything to do with any of whatever this is.”
"I know,” Jensen snaps. “I'm not askin' you to do shit. Just shut the hell up and let me think.”
Doing as he's told, Jared sinks back and watches Katie ease onto the bed beside him. “I thought he was retired,” Jared says to her. Though he keeps his voice low, Jensen shoots him a dirty look and keeps pacing.
With a shrug, Katie settles back and rests her head on Jared's shoulder. “I think he's being forced out.”
"D'you run into this guy the other night, Jared?” Misha asks, flipping his computer around to show Jared a picture.
Jared leans forward a little and nods. “He's the one that stuffed the box in my pocket.”
Before Jensen can respond, Danneel's eyebrow shoots up. “Isn't he one of Fuller's men?” Hands on her hips, she narrows her eyes. “When'd you start fencin' for Fuller again?”
"I'm not,” Jensen insists. “He must have seen me at dinner the other night or something. I haven't talked to anyone.”
"What about this guy, Jared?” Misha asks, hitting a few keys to bring up another picture.
"He was one of the guys that stole it,” Katie nods, filling in the blanks where Jared was too drunk to remember.
Jensen stops short and grips his short hair in two hands. “That's. Oh, fuck.”
"What the hell does Pellegrino's crew want with an ancient Romanian artifiact?” Misha asks.
"My guess?” Danneel interjects, sinking to the end of Jared's bed. “Not a damn thing. He just wants to screw Jensen.”
Misha sounds bitter when he asks, “What? One body's not enough for him?”
"Whoa, wait, what?” Jared thinks he's been doing pretty good at keeping his mouth shut but now they're not talking about stealing, they're talking about bodies.
"Eight months ago, we were workin' a job out here,” Danneel starts, only to be cut off by Jensen's voice, high and angry.
"Dani, shut up!”
She's unfazed. “Jensen, they already made him. He's in this, whether he wants to be or not.”
He wants to argue but Jensen meets his eye and says, “I'm sorry.” It's the first thing Jared's really believed since he met Jensen. “Guys, can you give me a second alone with Jared?”
Danneel, Misha, and Katie file out of the room and Jared watches wordlessly as Jensen watches the door click shut. His posture drops, the cocky facade Jared has known for the last few days melting away.
"Lesson?” He gives Jared a small smile and a shrug. “Confident is success. Cocky is failure. The line between them is way too easy to blur. You forget it for a second and people die.”
He's almost afraid to ask but Jared hears himself asking, “What happened?”
"I fucked up,” Jensen tells him, face open and vulnerable. “I sent Aldis in unprotected. Next thing I know, there's a knock on the back door and we open it up to find him lying there, two bullet holes in his chest and nobody else in sight.” He scrubs a hand over his face and meets Jared's eye. “I can't prove it was Pellegrino, but he's never really denied it, either.”
Jared doesn't really know what to say. The truth is that he's always been better with someone else writing his words for him. “Jensen,” he starts and then snaps his mouth shut again. It's obvious that his crew isn't just a few people he pulls together and works with on occasion. He's really messed up over this Aldis guy and whatever he meant to this family of criminals.
"I shouldn't have come back here,” he says, hand going to the back of his neck again. “I damn sure shouldn't have called them back here and you,” he stops and shakes his head, eyes serious when they meet Jared's. “Man, I'm sorry I brought this down on you.”
A small voice in the back of Jared’s head says to watch his step, that Jensen has lied to him before and could easily be doing it again. It whispers that this is what Jensen does, he lures people in however he can and then drops giant bombs on their heads that they never saw coming.
It’s not logical, though. If anyone knows that Jared isn’t cut out for this con thing yet, it’s Jensen. Maybe he’ll be able to pull it off on screen in a few months but there’s no way in hell he could do it for real. He figures tugging on his emotions to rope him into something like this is stupid and Jensen wouldn’t take that kind of a chance.
None of it makes sense, he doesn’t know what to believe anymore, so he just nods his head and says, “Don’t worry about me.”
"For what it’s worth,” Jensen answers, his voice dropping low in the limited space between them, “I’m not sorry for the other night. Pretty much everything that’s happened since but not for that.”
He probably shouldn’t close the distance between them, run his thumb over Jensen’s bottom lip or lean in to trace the same path with his tongue; Jared does it anyway. He doesn’t know what kind of technique Jensen has used with other marks in the past but this is the one that hooked him. The other night, before he knew Jensen was an ass with a dangerous past, he was a really cool guy with awesome hands and the best lips Jared had ever kissed. He was fun to talk to, interesting and laid back. He was the kind of guy that Jared thought he’d remember pretty fondly for awhile, mostly when he was in the shower or alone at night.
Jensen slides his fingers up the back of Jared’s neck and into his hair, holding him in place while he slips his tongue into Jared’s mouth and runs his other hand down his chest. His fingers skim the skin above Jared's waistband and, even though he knows it's stupid, Jared doesn't stop him. Instead, he grabs the back of Jensen's head and guides him back toward the bed. Now isn't really the time for this but it's starting to feel like this is the only thing that matters.
Heavy breath ghosts against his ear and Jared fumbles with the buckle on Jensen's belt. Dropping his hand a little, he squeezes over Jensen's hardening cock and smiles against his jaw when Jensen groans and rolls his hips up into Jared's hand. “Yeah,” he pants, fingers tightening in Jared's hair. “God, yeah, Jared. Do it,” he begs.
He gets the belt open and starts on Jensen's zipper when a hard knock pops the bubble around them. It's probably for the best but Jared doesn't like it. It makes him feel better to know that Jensen doesn't seem any less overjoyed at the prospect of being interrupted.
Struggling to sit under Jared's weight, Jensen gives him a soft smile and rests on his elbows. “Come in,” he calls out and Jared rolls over to let him straighten his clothes back out again.
Danneel and Katie roll their eyes and Misha just shakes his head when they see Jared and Jensen sprawled out on the bed.
"Dude, really?” Katie is the first to speak, her eyebrow arched in condescension.
With a shrug, Jared combs his fingers through his hair and tries to look more nonplussed than he feels. “No time like the present, right?”
"I don't really care if you two lock yourselves in here and fuck like bunnies when this shit's over but for now, we gotta figure out how to get the box back and quick.” Danneel looked flakey and downright crazy when she walked in the first time. Now she's kind of scary in that she's totally focused, eyes narrowed at Jensen. “I'm goin' to talk to Fuller,” she announces. “Tell him you have the box but you're not delivering it for him. I can convince him that you decided you wanna keep the take for yourself,” she explains.
"How the hell would you know that if I'm not working with you anymore?” Jensen pokes a hole in her nefarious scheme.
But Danneel just laughs like she can't believe Jensen could be so stupid. “Sweetie, Fuller's smart and he's slick but he's still a man,” she winks, hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them once for effect. “You let me worry about him. Now,” she looks at Jared in a way that makes him not at all comfortable. “I hear you're an actor, Mr. Padalecki.”
He can already tell this is going to end very, very badly.
Part 2
