Archive of Our Own

For Jensen, it's love at first sight.

As he's about to leave his hotel, he looks up into the gray, clouded sky that promises the typical drizzling rain, and clutches his folded umbrella a bit tighter in his hand. The marine breeze is that bit too cold when it wafts under his coat, so Jensen pulls it closer around himself.

That's the point where he kind of misses Texas. But only kind of, he thinks as he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and starts to walk down the street. The weather here might depress him, but Jensen wouldn't feel any different if he sat in his apartment, alone, as he had during the past three weeks.

And he definitely needs a change.

Plus, the city itself makes up for the climate. The skyline frames the lakes throughout the city and the harbor divides the city from the Sound. Old warehouses and small office buildings built from red brick stand in the shadow of the taller, newer skyscrapers. The mix of old and new, the charm of a city that’s as much Gold Rush as new tech makes Jensen fall in love with it instantly. He can't wait to explore it in detail once he lives here.

That is, if he gets this job, which is more unlikely than he cares to think, considering the job market for lawyers is a nightmare at the moment. Despite his overall very good résumé, he spent the last five months looking for a job, first in and around Dallas, but later in other states as well. Companies today can afford to be choosy, as they select only one lawyer out of a hundred applicants. Jensen is a good contract and intellectual property lawyer, and he knows it, but if he doesn't fit the company's requirements to a T, they won't care about his experience. He's been kicked out of the race before.

It's been kind of devastating, seeing your efforts vanish into thin air like that.

This time, he wants it to be different. Needs it to be different.

This vacancy doesn't fit his bill either, not by a long shot, but that he even got invited for this interview is a chance that he can't let go to waste.

Jensen stops when he reaches the intersection, and squints down the street. His GPS says this is the one he's looking for. Historic buildings line the side street, together with small, three- and four-story office buildings with tiny shops at street level. The trees he admired yesterday when he went to the shopping district are nowhere to be seen here.

A trolley passes him as he walks down the length of the street, and Jensen follows its path to the next stop. Lost in thought, he sidesteps one of many guys who rushes down the sidewalk with a phone pressed to his ear, talking frantically into the speaker while balancing a cup of coffee in the other hand. The picture is familiar, and it makes him quirk a smile. Not too long ago, he was just like that.

Jensen quickly pulls himself out of that train of thought and takes out his phone to quickly check his location.

His phone, though, says that he's already exactly where he wants to be. Looking up, Jensen finds an old, five-story, red brick building to his left, and a sign beside a second floor window says Ferris & Gamble Publishing in green and orange letters. He's definitely in the right spot.

The sign, centered over the entrance, says Perkatory, with letters bent over a stylized coffee cup, and it makes Jensen raise an eyebrow. He pushes open the door and walks into the coffee shop. He has enough time left for a cup before the long hours of interviews start.

Inside, the walls are made of more exposed red brick, giving the place a warm, comfortable feeling. Jensen looks around, breathes in the delicious smell of freshly roasted and brewed coffee, of steaming milk and pastries cooling beside the oven. He wallows in the fragrance as he takes the last steps towards the end of the line in front of the counter.

He's still busy studying one of the paintings decorating the wall — displaying the devil with a tiny espresso mug in his hands, pinky outstretched as he takes a sip — when he notices from out of the corner of his eye the line he's approaching is moving forward a step. Jensen takes the last step towards the end of the row, without looking, and that turns out to be a rather bad idea.

Out of nowhere, there's a body right in front of him, and Jensen manages to smack squarely into some guy's broad, muscular back.

“Jesus!” the guy yells in surprise, and it's almost comical to see a tall guy like him flinch away in surprise.

“Whoa!” Jensen gasps at the same time, taking a step back and almost expecting the other guy to start shouting at him for not looking where he walks. It's the shock of surprise that leaves him speechless for a moment. They both straighten up to their full height, and Jensen hasn't felt so small in all his life. While he's not exactly short, Jensen still has to look up to the other man.

He wears sneakers, denim jeans, and a dark brown jacket over a blue plaid shirt, which seems like pretty light clothing to Jensen, considered that it's the middle of November. His hair is hidden under a black beanie, though, with only the tips of it sticking out at his neck. And, well, he's attractive, objectively speaking.

For a moment, they're just standing there, catching their breath, and looking at each other. Jensen steels himself for a snarky answer. He's so not in the mood for this. Not today. Not on a day like this, not when it's so important that this day turns out well. Please, Jensen begs silently to the higher powers that might be.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, hands held up in a defensive pose. He's also, may be a bit impressed by the guy. With his height, he looks instantly intimidating.

Well, until a wide grin spreads across his lips, his slanted eyes glittering friendly. “Don't worry, dude. Happens,” he chuckles, and it's like the sun just rose in front of Jensen or something like that.

The guy could probably melt a stone with that grin. And it definitely melts the last bit of worry lodged in Jensen's chest.

“Yeah, I just wasn't looking,” Jensen manages and smiles back, his usual self-confidence returning.

“Are you good?” the guy asks, and one hand outstretched towards Jensen.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

Other guy's smile widens to a grin again. “So, um, I was just about to get some coffee,” he nods to their left, where the counter is. “Can I get you something? I have a few minutes to spare before work, and I'd definitely appreciate some company,” he adds with an open smile and his hands buried in his jeans pockets. For a guy his size, he manages the pleading puppy dog eyes really well.

Jensen also doesn't fail to notice how the guy's eyes travel up and down his body, checking him out subtly, and how one edge of his lips raises.

“Oh, um, no, thank you,” Jensen stutters, completely taken by surprise, “I kind of have someplace to be, actually.”

“Right,” tall, dark and handsome says, and the disappointment is obvious in his voice. “Then, just... have a nice day. And sorry.”

“You too. And, you know, sorry, again.” Jensen scratches the back of his neck nervously. This whole thing is weird in ways he never even imagined.

“Watch where you step,” the guy says as he awkwardly turns around again and shoots a teasing wink over his shoulder.

Jesus.

Did he just get hit on by a guy?

Well, there’s a first time for everything.

Shaking off the strange feeling, Jensen straightens out his clothes: a classic black suit and dark green tie that he wears under his knee-length double-breasted coat. The tie had been a gift from his ex-girlfriend for his last birthday. Jensen can still hear her saying it brings out his eyes. Whatever, he just likes it.

For a meeting like this, he definitely needs to wear something that makes him feel comfortable. That it reminds him of his ex is unfortunate, but it also reminds him of why he really needs that new start. If he sits on his ass any longer, he'll go crazy.

While the barista – a sturdily built man with dark, short hair and a beard covering his cheeks – is preparing what looks like a cappuccino with lots of milk and syrup for the guy in front of him, Jensen quickly checks out the menu on the slates up on the wall. Doodles of steaming coffee cups and cookies with smiling faces frame the extensive list of coffee roasts the shop offers, and the headline reads “Perkatory – the perk of sinfully good coffee”. It makes Jensen wonder if the guy is the one who doodles those little pictures up there himself.

Black coffee will do as long as it's strong, Jensen decides, and he pulls out his notes from his coat pocket, skimming over them once again while he waits, as if he didn't already know them by heart. Admittedly, his thoughts drift off somewhere in the middle of the second line, with the milk frother whirring in the background.

“Seattle?” he hears his mother ask in disbelief, and sees her face fall into a grimace. “What do you want in Seattle?”

“There's an interesting job opening, Mom,” he had explained.

“But it's so far away, what will you do up there alone? You don't know anybody there!” she objected.

“Well, I'll get to know people. I'm 34, mom, I'm able to live on my own.”

“But... Back me up here, Alan,” she threw a desperate glance over her shoulder, where his dad glared disapprovingly over the top of his newspaper.

“You know that Jackson & Partner law firm downtown, why don't you call there and ask if they're hiring?” Alan added to his wife's concerns.

“Dad,” Jensen sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's not the 60s anymore, you know. Also, that's the same work I've done for Sandover for years now, and I wouldn't have quit my job there if that's what I still wanted to do.”

“Honey, are you sure this isn't just some... radical decision you're making because of Joanna?” his mom asked, a worried furrow between her brows.

That got Jensen angry quickly, but he held in his temper. “Maybe it is, but maybe it's the right thing to do. Anyway, the flight is already booked and the interview is scheduled, so... I'll ask Josh to take me to the airport.”

“Hey,” a deep voice with a friendly tone pulls him out of his thoughts. “What can I get you?”

Jensen jerks up from his notes to find the barista looking at him with an open smile. “Good morning,” he answers, collecting his thoughts. “I'll have a tall drip, please. For here.”

The barista nods, then lets his eyes trail down Jensen's suit and tie quickly, eventually focusing on his notes. “Which kind of roast?”

“As long as it's strong, I don't care,” Jensen smiles back.

Sizing him up for a short moment, the barista turns around and gets to work. “I have pretty good dark house roast here, if I may say so. Promise you'll like it. Do you want room?”

“No, thank you.”

Jensen listens to the light tune the barista whistles as he waits.

“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” the man asks as he puts down the cup at the end of the counter, where sugar and milk, among various other things, are available for self-service.

Jensen raises an eyebrow, but shakes his head no, confused.

“Could it be that you're on your way to the guys upstairs? Ferris & Gamble?”

“Yes, but how do you know?” Jensen raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Well, I know for a fact that they're looking for someone and-” he waves at Jensen's suit and his notes, “I kinda figured.”

Jensen manages a lopsided grin. “Figured right.”

He still smiles in a friendly way at Jensen as he leans against the counter. “That’ll be two-sixty, then.”

Jensen quickly thanks him while pulling out his wallet to count off the bills, and he throws some change into the tip jar. When he looks back up, he finds the barista with an additional plate in his hand, sliding it onto the counter in front of him.

“On the house,” he winks as he takes the money from Jensen's hands. “For good luck. And, you know, the guys upstairs are pretty cool, so no need to be nervous,” he continues, a bit quieter so the other patrons don't hear it, and chuckles.

Swallowing heavily around the sudden lump in his throat, Jensen forces out a breathy laugh and looks down at the muffin. Apple and cinnamon.

“Thanks,” he manages, and feels stupid for getting emotional over a damn muffin. But the truth is that a lot of crap happened during the past months, and this is pretty nice coming from a virtual stranger. “Aren't you... I mean, I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“Nah,” the barista says. “I'm the owner of this place, so I can hand out freebies as much as I like. The name's Ty, by the way.”

“Jensen.”

Ty nods, first in response to Jensen, and then at the muffin. “Enjoy,” he says with another warm smile, before he turns to his next customer.

Thoughtfully, Jensen steps aside and sits down at one of the tables near the counter. He breaks off a part of the muffin's crust and pops it into his mouth. It's just the right amount of sweet and buttery, and he's reminded of how little he actually had for breakfast this morning. He washes it down with a sip from the delicious, strong roast of coffee, and sighs contentedly. Somehow, all of this makes him hope things are looking up for once.

He almost manages to not think about the upcoming interview or his mom's nagging until he's done with both the muffin and the coffee. When he looks at his watch, ten minutes later, he knows it's time to get moving.

“Um, excuse me,” Jensen waves at Ty as he returns his empty cup and plate to the cart at the end of the counter.

The other man is busy wiping down the counter beside his coffee machines, but quickly comes over. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to ask where the stairs to the second floor are.”

“Ah,” Ty nods, smiling yet again. “It's time, huh? Follow me.”

Jensen rounds the counter to join Ty at the other side and follows him to an old freight elevator whose entrance has been closed off with a steel trellis. The elevator itself is nowhere to be seen, and Ty hits an old copper button on the side to call it.

The rattling sound of the wires announces the arrival of the elevator long before it actually comes into sight. Jensen's eyes widen in surprise when he notices it's not empty, but is carrying a woman with short, brown hair, who smiles widely as soon as she notices him, too.

Ty quickly pulls the gate aside as the elevator comes to a halt, and she thanks him before turning to Jensen.

“Good morning,” she greets him with a smile. “You must be Jensen?”

“Good morning, and yes,” Jensen answers, smiling back.

“I'm Kim Rhodes, HR manager of Ferris & Gamble publishing,” she introduces herself, and holds her hand out. Jensen shakes it with a firm grip. “Looks like you found your way to us just fine.”

“I did, yes. Beautiful building you got here, I have to say.” Jensen looks around to emphasize his words. “Loved it at first sight.”

She chuckles. “Just wait until we get upstairs,” and with that, she steps back into the elevator and waves goodbye to Ty.

Ty waves back and smiles brightly. “Good luck, Jensen,” he adds, then turns back to his counter.

Jensen returns the smile and nods gratefully.

He steps into the elevator and pulls the trellis closed as Kim presses the button for the second floor. The elevator comes to life with a creaking sound, which doesn't make Jensen trust it any better than he did previously.

“Relax, we have it checked on a regular basis,” Kim grins, obviously noticing his discomfort. “It might be from the early 20s, but it has a much newer engine.”

When they're up and entering a huge room with a high ceiling, Jensen needs a second to take it all in. The open space includes several desks in the center, and there are several single offices to the sides, but their doors are mostly opened wide. The floor-to-ceiling windows around the hall would let enough sunlight in, but since today is particularly cloudy, the long fluorescent tubes that hang low from the ceiling bathe the offices in artificial light.

“Wow,” is all Jensen is able to say.

“It's an old coffee warehouse,” Kim explains, leading the way to one of the single offices. “We restored and converted it to an office building a couple years ago.”

“It's a pretty cool idea,” Jensen nods, when his eyes land on an old machine to their right. “What's this?” he adds, pointing at the shiny metal, obviously kept neat and clean. It looks kind of like an oven, if not for the round barrel with the circular opening in the front and the open chute leading down to a tray.

“An old coffee roaster. It was still in here when we bought the building, so we decided to keep it,” Kim smiles, not faltering in her step.

Impressed at this point, Jensen can only nod.

Kim leads him into a small conference room with a meeting table and closes the door behind them. “Have a seat,” she says as she offers one of the chairs to Jensen, and sits down opposite him.

Jensen takes a deep breath. His last interview was more than ten years ago. The job they've posted is that of General Counsel. Since they are a small publisher, they didn't have a Chief Legal Officer or General Counsel before, and, from what Jensen gathered, their current Chief Financial Officer took care of contracts until now. It's a change from his last position, and he'd have to build up the position here from scratch. They have no reason whatsoever to hire him because it's not a field he's experienced in, but, if he's learned one thing in court, it's confidence. So he's going to rock this interview, and he's going to get this job. Period.

***

The day flies by way too quickly with the interview with Kim, lunch with Samantha Ferris (“Call me Sam”), the CEO, and the afternoon is spent in lengthier interviews with Sam and with Sera Gamble, the silent partner of the company. Not that Jensen minds, since they're both really nice, and they get along well from the start.

There's no awkwardness until the evening, where Jensen is invited to dinner at an Italian place downtown, together with the complete C-level staff of Ferris & Gamble.

When Kim says, “Let me introduce you to Jared,” and waves at someone behind Jensen's back, her next words, “our CFO,” almost don't register with Jensen. As soon as he turns and sees the man behind him, he's admittedly speechless.

Jensen heard an old German saying once that you always meet twice.

For a moment, they stare at each other, and Jensen notices that the guy —Jared's— eyes are an interesting mix of blue and gray.

“You— you're—” Jared gets out. Interesting enough, he seems pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah,” Jensen huffs out a laugh, glad for the cue.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Kim asks in disbelief, looking from Jensen to Jared and back.

“Kind of,” Jensen says, at the same time that Jared answers, “Sort of.” The sheer ridiculous awkwardness of the situation makes them both chuckle.

“I bumped into him this morning,” Jared explains to Kim as he gets up and steps around the table.

Jensen doesn't see her reaction, because Jared stands right in front of him, and for the second time that day, he has to look up at him.

“So, I'm Jared Padalecki, resident CFO,” he offers his hand and Jensen notices that the wide grin he recognizes from earlier is confidently in place.

“Jensen Ackles, hopefully soon-to-be General Counsel,” Jensen replies with an equally wide smile and grabs the huge palm, squeezing it firmly.

They are still busy sizing each other up when Kim clears her throat. “Glad we got that out of the way.” An amused tone accompanies her teasing words.

Jared grins.

“Right,” he says before meeting Jensen's eyes again, and, for the first time, Jensen sees something like uncertainty there. Jensen tries to dispel it with a reassuring smile and a slight curl to his lips, which Jared immediately returns.

Their first meeting might have been a bit unusual, but that doesn't mean Jensen can't appreciate some harmless flirting, even from someone of the same sex.

“Glad to meet you again,” Jared nods, sits back down, and pulls out the chair beside him. With an inviting smile, he waits for Jensen to take a seat.

“Thanks,” Jensen smiles right back as he accepts the offer.

Jesus, even sitting, Jared is taller than him.

The woman opposite of Jensen has long, auburn hair and a friendly smile. “Amanda Tapping,” she introduces herself, and as Jensen shakes her hand, he thinks that if she was a bit younger, she'd totally be his type. Kim adds, “Our head of management and production.”

“Let's just say that I'm the one who keeps everyone in check and makes sure nobody messes up the schedule.” Amanda laughs as she shakes Jensen's hand.

“Have you seen Misha, by the way?” Kim asks, after a short chuckle.

“He came here with me, so he's gotta be around somewhere.”

That's when a man with short, brown hair, a black shirt and bright red floral print wrap-around skirt comes to a halt in front of their table with a bright smile. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

Jensen thanks God that the man wasn't speaking specifically to him, since he's too busy gaping at the skirt. It's just... an uncommon sight.

“Oh, you must be the new guy,” Misha eventually turns fully towards Jensen and sits down next to Amanda.

“Yes, not quite yet, but I'm trying. I'm Jensen. Ackles.”

For the millionth time that day, Jensen shakes hands, and the guy says, “I'm Misha Collins, Editor in Chief.”

***

Later, the group scatters, a few head home – including Kim – and Jensen finds himself at the table with only Jared beside him, feeling awkward.

Since Misha is deep in conversation with Amanda on the other side of the table, they are momentarily alone.

No matter their earlier exchange, Jensen knows that they need to talk about this morning in some way. Just to get it out of the way.

However, while he's still trying to find the right words, Jared beats him to it.

Jared leans forward, elbows resting on the table before him, and the smile on his lips dims a bit. “Hey, um... about this morning. I didn't— I mean...” he avoids Jensen's eyes.

Jensen waves him off. “Don't worry about it. You couldn't have known.”

“Still. I hope it's not a problem.”

“It isn't,” Jensen reassures him honestly.

“You wouldn't believe the horror scenarios I had running through my mind already,” Jared huffs, relieved, and leans back into his chair, seeming a lot more relaxed. “Kim mentioned that the applicant for General Counsel would be from Texas and... well, that only gave me more concerns about what you would think about it.”

Think about what, exactly? About the fact that Jared hit on him or that he was gay? Or bi? Or just somehow into men?

He’s certainly not going to ask Jared. It's not a problem in any case, so Jensen quickly shakes his head, dismissing Jared's thoughts with a bright smile. “Just because I'm from Texas... we're not all backwards rednecks, you know.”

“Don't get me wrong, I'm from Texas myself, so...” Jared lets the sentence remain unfinished, the meaning of it hanging between them.

Surprise makes Jensen's eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. Pleasant surprise, that is. “Really? Where from?”

“Born 'n' raised in San Antonio,” Jared answers, a lopsided grin on his lips and a slight twang in his words. That hint of home in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by Jensen, who feels warmth spread in his chest. That he finds a fellow Texan here, of all places. How surprising.

“Funny coincidence that we meet up here. What brought you to Seattle, then?” Jensen grins right back.

Jared scrunches up his nose. “That's a long story for another day. Let's just say, me and my folks had a little disagreement. I'm sure you can imagine why.”

“Oh,” Jensen nods in understanding, his smile falling. So that's... oh.

“And wow, now we're knee-deep in depressing stuff. Sorry,” Jared huffs, scratching the back of his neck, and his shaggy brown hair falls into his face.

Jensen waves it off. “Don't worry about it.”

That, at least, gets Jared laughing. The crystal clear, amused laughter make Jensen smile again, too, and it breaks the spell between them.

“Wow, I throw one thing after the other at you today and you just... wow,” Jared grins. “Nothing shakes a good ol' Texas boy, I guess.”

“Not even getting invited to coffee by a man,” Jensen adds on a whim, and quickly tries to back it up with, “Gotta say, that never happened to me back home, but I'll take it as a compliment,” he winks at Jared, only to have him dissolve into laughter again.

“You're something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jensen smirks, and then remembers he should clear that crucial thing between them up once and for all and states, “I'm straight, though.”

A second's hesitation later, Jared clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Damn, just my luck,” he mutters under his breath, but he's still smiling.

For a moment, they sit in silence, only watching each other. The air between them is definitely cleared, and a huge load is lifted from Jensen's mind.

“So,” Jared eventually begins. “You feel ready to take on the stuff I did on the side? Don't think I'd mind.”

***

When Jensen gets to the airport by lunchtime on Wednesday, he has a good feeling about the interview. He got along with pretty much everyone immediately, and he's sure that he left a lasting, positive impression.

Jared also gave him his e-mail and phone number and promised to keep in touch when Jensen went back to the office building for a short breakfast meeting.

“When did they say they'll let you know?” Jared asked when he accompanied Jensen downstairs to the coffee shop to say goodbye.

“In about a week. They need to check references and confer about salary and benefits, the usual.”

“I don't think you need to be worried,” Jared grinned, and that huge smile had almost taken all of Jensen's remaining doubts away. “They like you. And believe me, because I've seen the way they are when they don’t like someone.”

“Thanks,” Jensen nodded gratefully. “I'm actually glad to hear that.”

“And if they say yes and you need some help hunting for apartments, I'd be glad to help out,” was Jared's last offer.

“I think I'm gonna take you up on that,” Jensen replied, and then they parted.

So Jensen still has a big smile on his face when he boards his flight. He sleeps through most of the four hours as best as he can, and when he finally arrives back home in Dallas, the good feeling is only slightly dimmed when he reaches his empty apartment in downtown Dallas.

Admittedly, Jensen hadn't been home a lot in the last few months, as 14-hour days at the office were standard in his position. But when he got home, Joanna had always been waiting for him with dinner and a smile.

Now, her drawers in the dresser they shared are empty. He never realized how little space his clothes took up in their closet until the hangers full of Joanna's jeans and blouses and dresses were gone.

He needs to get out of here, and soon.

***

He gets the call on Wednesday of the following week.

The salary and benefits are not what he had at Sandover, but that was always going to be part of the deal and not a reason for Jensen to go back to being the unhappy person he was. After some negotiating, they're quickly on the same page, and it's done and signed.

Starting in January, Jensen will have a new job as the General Counsel of Ferris & Gamble publishing. After some persuasion from Sam, he also signed a confidentiality agreement and a contract for a small consulting fee so he can get started and up to speed while he deals with his move.

So Jensen picks up the phone to make all the calls he needs – to his bank, his cable and internet company, to the utilities. It's all answering machines and automated calls, which is not only a chore, but also kind of depressing.

The last number he calls is his parents', and, as he calls, he realizes there's really not much holding him back here in Dallas. His career and extensive work hours have cost him a lot over the last few years, including his friends. It's kind of pathetic that his family members are the only real people he needs to tell about his move to Seattle.

It takes him some time to reassure his mother that he won't drop off the face of the earth, that she'll still see him, and that he’ll be able to survive on his own.

Afterwards, Jensen flops down on the couch with an exhausted sigh; he boots up his laptop to look for apartments in Seattle and to send an e-mail to Jared – only to see that Jared had beat him to it.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

Hey Jensen,

just heard the great news! I'm really glad they said 'yes'. You're gonna fit in here perfectly.

So, without further ado, I thought it'd be handy for you to have an overview of our regular writers and the kinds of books they're submitting. So I made a chart that you'll get with this email. A copy of our standard contract is also attached. I'll make sure to keep you up on speed what's happening over here so you don't have to work it out all on your own once you start in January.

As always, I'm here to answer any questions you might have.

It was great to meet you and I'm looking forward to working with you.

And check out this site for apartments in Seattle.

– Jared

Jensen smiles to himself as he starts typing up an answer.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

Hey Jared,

I'm really glad, too! Thanks for the spreadsheet, it looks very useful. I'll take a closer look tomorrow.

As for the apartment hunt - I'll call you tomorrow to talk details, alright?

Jensen

***

“I like it,” Jensen says, two weeks later, looking around the small, but partially furnished apartment in Fremont.

“Me too,” Jared nods. “Plus, you'll have the bus stop right around the corner and only have a short commute to work. And you can take the same bus line as me, so we can go to work together, if you want.”

“That's perfect,” Jensen smiles, then turns to Jared. “Where do you live, by the way?”

“A few miles north, in Green Lake,” Jared points vaguely in the mentioned direction. “I have a house up there, not far from the lake itself. Gotta show you sometime, the park has a great walkway around the lake where I run my dogs. But living near downtown sure has its advantages. I'd take this place if I were you.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

***

At the end of December, after Jensen clears out and sells his apartment – either storing things or shipping his stuff to Seattle – and spends a rather melancholic Christmas with his parents, he flies up to Seattle for the third time in two months. This time, for good.

When he arrives in Seattle, it's Jared who picks him up from the airport. The other man grins brightly when he sees Jensen walk towards him, and greets him with a handshake and one arm wrapped quickly around his shoulders.

“So, I gotta keep you this time around?” Jared asks mirthfully.

“Yep,” Jensen confirms as he pulls back, but he leaves Jared's arm still in place. For a moment, they just smile at each other, and Jensen notices that Jared has dimples. And a mole beside his nose. Plus, he smells like aftershave, some scent Jensen had always liked. He wonders why he notices that now, but has no idea.

They had quickly gotten comfortable with each other, during Jensen's apartment hunt and all the phone calls concerning his move.

And it's almost too easy with Jared. He’s a middle child from Texas, like himself, a genuinely nice and friendly guy with a contagious laughter, and someone Jensen would like to be friends with. And that's the other point, he hasn't had time for friends in a long while now, so he enjoys spending time with Jared, and the other man certainly doesn't seem to mind.

Jensen turns around to grab the handle of his huge suitcase, which holds the last of his clothes and personal stuff that hadn't been shipped to his new address already.

“Let's get you home, then,” Jared says, and takes the suitcase from Jensen's hands.

“Hey!” Jensen protests.

“You go and carry your duffel bag,” Jared nods at the heavy bag hanging from Jensen's shoulder. “I'm just being the gentleman who helps the lady with her suitcase,” he teases.

Jensen punches Jared's shoulder lightly and grins.

***

Of course Jensen doesn't have any plans for New Year's, so when Jared says he's going to spend it at Misha's place and he might as well join them, Jensen accepts.

Misha is a weird sort of guy. Nice, but weird. Jensen has no idea what to think of him at first. From their discussions at Jensen's interview dinner, he knows that Misha is married to his high school sweetheart and they have a son.

Jensen kind of envies Misha for that. While he's just a few years older than Jensen, Misha has already achieved everything that Jensen wants – a house, a wife, a kid.

The hardest part is that Jensen thought he'd already had it all: a well-paying job, his student loans paid back, a girlfriend he had been going steady with for four years. A girlfriend he could imagine marrying and having kids with. But after he had decided his job should be more to him than well-paying and quit it, it had all gone downhill. Joanna couldn't accept his decision, and Jensen now suspects his job was most of the reason she stayed with him in the first place.

Jensen is pulled out of his thoughts by Misha opening the door for him and Jared. He greets them with a wide grin, as his son is perched on his hip. Misha is yet again in a wrap-around skirt, a blue one this time.

“Westy, say hello,” Misha says to the little boy, who waves dutifully at them and mumbles a small, “Hello,” towards Jensen. Then he recognizes Jared and lets out a joyful laugh, stretching his arms out towards the tall man. “Uncle Jared!”

And then something magical happens. Jared, who Jensen has only seen as the very capable, professional CFO, goes into full-on cooing mode, and picks the boy up from Misha's hands. “Hey, little man, how you doing? How is my favorite godson?”

Misha watches with a grin as his son starts babbling to Jared excitedly, Westy's little arms wrapping around Jared's neck. Then Misha invites them in with a wave, not interrupting Jared as he heads straight for the living room, talking to the kid.

“How old is he?” Jensen asks as he toes off his shoes.

“West's almost two and a half,” Misha answers with a smile. “And you can tell that Jared helped babysit him when he was younger. They're sweet, aren't they?”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, and follows Misha into the living room, where Jared is already sitting on the sofa with West on his lap.

A dark-haired woman joins them, and is introduced to Jensen as Vicky, Misha's wife. And Jensen immediately gets why those two fit together so well – while Misha is snarky and full of energy, Vicky has the wit to counter his ideas and to ground him. And when it comes to West, they're the perfect team, letting him get away with the things kids do, but being absolutely united when it comes to any behavior that is not okay.

Jensen tries to not compare them to Joanna and himself, but fails. He and Joanna were a team alright, but they were always... more serious. Misha and Vicky just have a lot of fun with each other, playing on each other's jokes and throwing quick-witted sentences back and forth so fast even Jared admits to not being able to follow them.

And as small as their group is, as soon as Jensen finds his place within it, they get along great. During dinner and playing simple family games on the Wii, West gets used to Jensen quickly, ends up sitting beside him on the couch and leans into him. Jensen has always been good with kids, and West is easy to play and have fun with, and he's sweet when he wants to be. Right now, he's just tired after getting tickled by Jared, and Jensen finds himself watching the boy with a smile as West's eyes fall closed again and again.

“Alright, little man, I think it's time for bed for you,” Misha laughs and gets up.

Without a second thought, Jensen picks West up and watches in awe as the boy with the blond locks rests his head against his shoulder and snuggles into Jensen's neck, eyes firmly closed now. He doesn't even protest when Jensen transfers him to Misha's arms.

He finds both Jared and Vicky watching them with a wide smile. “What?” he asks amused as soon as Misha is out of earshot.

“Looks like he already likes you,” Vicky smiles.

“It was kind of adorable,” Jared adds, which makes Jensen grab his beer quickly to avoid his eyes. He doesn't know why that makes him uneasy, but it does. He's never been good at taking compliments.

Misha returns just in time for the countdown to start on TV, and kisses Vicky when the ball drops on Times Square.

Jensen busies himself with the bottle of champagne, filling the four glasses Jared hands to him, and they clink glasses.

“I think it's time for us to head for the balcony,” Vicky grins after they drank and gets up.

“The balcony?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah, you have a perfect view of the Space Needle from their balcony,” Jared explains. “And the fireworks they do there are always amazing. Also, remind me to take you sightseeing.”

“I will,” Jensen says, with a smile to Jared, and follows Vicky.

When the fireworks start, Misha slings an arm around her.

It's the first New Years in five years that Jensen doesn't spend with Joanna, so he feels a bit melancholy seeing that.

“What's going on in that head of yours?” Jared asks when he notices, nudging Jensen with his elbow.

Jensen sighs. “It's just that I... well, to be honest, it's been two months since my ex broke up with me and I kind of miss her.”

“If she broke up with you, she doesn't know what she's missing,” Jared says, and then wordlessly wraps an arm around Jensen's shoulders and pulls him close.

“I'd say so, too,” Misha adds from the side, smiling gently.

Later they end up on the couch, all four sprawling out lazily watching TV. It's kind of amazing that he had so little time for friends back home in Dallas, but since arriving in a new place, new city, and a new state, he immediately finds people to connect with.

He tells them as much, and after a moment of smiling at each other quietly, Vicky says, “Well, Jared is already kind of part of the family. And you're more than welcome to join us again, Jensen.”

“In our community, you find your own family,” Jared says thoughtfully. “And I'm glad I found you guys.”

“Oh, are we already in the sentimental stage of the evening?” Misha throws in.

“I guess,” Jared shrugs.

“What did you mean with 'our community'?” Jensen follows it up.

“Well, the gay community.”

“Or, for the record, the LGBTQ community,” Misha adds, “since I'm not gay, but queer.”

“Oh,” Jensen manages, but does a double take. “But you're... married?”

“Yes, I am,” Misha smiles and pulls Vicky closer, who adds, “And we are polyamorous and living in an open marriage.”

“Wait—What?”

“We are polyamorous and living in an open marriage,” Misha repeats to Jensen's stunned face.

“Yeah, I got that part. And that means what exactly?” It's not like Jensen ever thought about these things; hell, he never had to.

Misha smiles easily. “It means my wife and I are committed to each other, and living with each other, but we don't limit our relationship to ourselves.”

It takes Jensen a moment to process that. He hasn't had that much to drink, but it's a bit late—or early—for things like this. “So you have threesomes,” he blurts out, immediately realizing how inappropriate it is. “Sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, no, it's okay. Common misconception, actually. Polyamorous means more than threesomes. It means you can fall in love with more than one person. This plus the fact that I identify as queer means that I don't limit that to female or male either,” Misha explains like it wasn’t the first time. “That is, if you want to think that gender is binary, which it isn't.”

“Is that the reason for the skirts?” Jensen tries to ease the seriousness of the situation, smiling openly so that Misha won't take it as an insult, which it definitely isn't meant to be.

“Nah, I just like the freedom for my junk,” Misha grins, then adds, “Honestly, it's great that I can fuck with people and their expectations of what kind of clothing defines gender, when it's exactly the other way around. Gender is non-binary and as fluid as sexuality; it's not limited to male and female, and it's certainly not defined by the clothes you're wearing. So if I want to wear skirts, I do it.”

“Wow,” Jensen says. “Honestly, I never thought about these things.”

“Of course not, you're a cisgendered, heterosexual male,” Jared says from the side.

Jensen just looks at him speechless, having no idea what Jared had just said.

“It means you've been born in the body of a male and identify as male, and you're straight, which is probably the lowest difficulty setting for sexuality.”

“Probably, yeah,” Jensen agrees. And yes, he's had it easy, not only in that. “I gotta say, I admire how easily you all deal with this stuff.”

“It's a completely normal thing to talk about,” Vicky adds. “I'm bisexual, for that matter. I just had the luck and the privilege to find my perfect match in high school. Which doesn't mean everything from there on was easy, but we built on everything that was thrown at us.”

Misha grins at her and quickly places a peck on her lips.

“And now you've got a house and a kid,” Jensen mumbles absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Misha answers, and they quietly sit around the table, sipping their drinks.

“What about you, if I may ask?” Vicky breaks the silence after a short while. “Do you want a family and kids?”

“I do,” Jensen sighs. “But after my ex broke up with me, I guess that's gotta wait for a while.”

When he looks to his side and finds Jared watching him with a sad frown on his face. “It's pretty much the same with me, although my last break-up was over a year ago.”

“You want kids, too?” Jensen asks, curious.

“Actually, yes. Adoptive or surrogate, I don't know. But I want a family.”

They share a heartfelt smile that's only broken by Misha clapping. “Alright, you two, enough with the pity party. I've got us some good bourbon that I waited to break out all evening.”

***

After crashing on Misha's couch, Jensen is woken the next morning by a familiar voice.

“Jensen?”

Jensen grumbles out a nonverbal reply to tell Jared he's awake, and he slowly opens his eyes. His sight is still blurry, and his eyeballs are scratchy from his contacts.

Jared’s standing beside the couch, naked except for a pair of blue plaid boxers. With a grunt, Jensen sits up to face him. His head is aching, but it could be a lot worse.

“Huh?” he asks eloquently.

Jared chuckles. “No offense, but you look like hell.”

After a quick glance at Jared's rumpled, slightly askew boxers and the sleep creases on his chest and cheeks, plus the epic mess that is his hair, Jensen chuckles, too. No matter how much it worsens his headache. “You're one to talk.”

Smirking, Jared shifts on his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. “Be nice, or I won't make you coffee.”

The thought of coffee—of a cup of the hot, strong beverage in his hands, and the smell of it when it's freshly brewed—makes Jensen's mouth water. “Ugh, God, coffee,” is what he gets out, with a touch of desperation. “Yes, please.”

“Help me make breakfast for our hosts?”

“That'd involve getting up,” Jensen protests and falls back with a groan.

The floorboards creak, and then there's Jared with a wide grin leaning over him and extending a hand to help him up. Jensen has an unobstructed view of strong, muscular arms with thick veins running along them, trained abs on Jared's stomach, and of his defined chest muscles. A five o'clock shadow darkens Jared’s cheeks while his bangs fall into his eyes.

There are women who would pass out at this view, Jensen knows. But that's not his problem. It's not like he hasn't seen a guy naked before.

His problem—and the reason why he's postponing getting up— is not only his headache, but the fact that morning wood doesn't care about hangovers and whether or not it will make things awkward when you spend the night at your co-worker's place.

And he can't just say, 'Sorry, boner alert,' to make Jared back off.

However, he'll have to make due somehow. If the long years of puberty taught him anything, it's how to hide inappropriate boners.

So Jensen accepts Jared's hand and lets himself get pulled to his feet. With a quick turn away and a sneaky shove of his palm, he manages to adjust himself in his boxer briefs, and he heads for the kitchen.

If Jared notices anything, he doesn't let it show. But he keeps a bit of distance from Jensen as he follows him.

It's not like Jensen isn't fully aware that he's A) good looking, B) has a great ass, bowlegs notwithstanding, and C) Jared is gay and is probably enjoying the view. But if Jared wants to go window-shopping, Jensen is not about to stop him.

If he has to deal with inappropriate boners, Jared can do that, too.

***

Jensen's first day at work starts off with a meeting of all staff in the boardroom. It’s pretty relaxed, as far as first meetings go. The C-level staff is familiar anyway, and the rest of the guys are very nice, even though Jensen is sure he'll have to ask for their names again later.

In the afternoon, he has a lot of paperwork to take care of with Kim, and he doesn't get to sit down at his own desk until it's almost time to go home.

Not half an hour later, Jared stands in front of him with his backpack in hand. “You ready to head home?”

“Almost. Give me five minutes?”

And so their habit of taking the bus to and from work together starts.

***

On Jensen's third day at work, they get sandwiches from the deli down the street for lunch, and when they take them back to the office Jared pushes the button for the fifth floor with a perfidious smirk.

After they step out of the old freight elevator, Jared leads them up a flight of stairs, and Jensen follows him without thinking twice. They get to a heavy metal fire door, which Jared pushes open with his shoulder, and Jensen finds himself out on the roof.

The sky is clear for once, only a few fluffy clouds dotting it here and there, and the sun shines down mostly unhindered. It's a decently warm day for winter in the Pacific Northwest. Jensen blinks up into the rays of sunlight, relishing what little warmth they grant at this time of the year.

Then he notices that they're standing in a roof top garden. To the side, there's a roofed-over corner with benches and a table, and the huge flower pots around are occupied by robust plants, from bushes to small trees. In summer, it's probably beautiful up here, but the cold and the constant rain of winter have made the plants soggy and leafless.

Still, Jared is beside him, and the skyline of Seattle surrounds them. The sound of cars honking and driving down the road fills the air; the city’s pulse is beneath them.

It's kind of breathtaking.

Jared is smiling beside him, and Jensen can't help it; he smiles right back. “Wow.”

“Right?” Jared grins, then walks down the short flight of stairs, heads for a table, and places the take-out bag on it.

Jensen follows, sits down on the bench beside him, and squints into the sun.

“So, you come up here often?” He takes another look around before meeting Jared's eyes again, which are sparkling and amused.

“Misha and I do—for coffee breaks,” he nods. “You should see this in summer.”

“I figured, yeah,” Jensen replies, staring into space. “It must be beautiful.”

“Oh, it is,” Jared smiles.

They sit in companionable silence, eating their sandwiches, without saying a word, and it's comfortable between them, as always.

“By the way, since you did your law degree in Texas, do you have to take the bar exam over here, too?” Jared asks when he's finished.

“Luckily, no. I'll just have to do 4 hours of pre-admission continuing legal education and go through a background investigation, and then take the oath of attorney.”

“Okay,” Jared nods. “So, if you don't need to study, how about sightseeing next weekend? I'd really like to show you the library, and the monorail, and the Needle.”

Jensen looks at him thoughtfully, and then smiles. “I guess we can squeeze that in.”

***

Working at Ferris & Gamble Publishing does wonders for Jensen's mood. He had felt way too out of place back home in Dallas. Not only does he now like the work he is doing, but now that he's here, in a new city with a new life, he realizes he's rarely felt so comfortable in his own skin as he does when he's watching the Super Bowl with Jared, Misha and Vicky. Or when they spend the day roaming around town. Jared showed him all the places they need go to dinner, because, “That's the most delicious Thai food you'll ever have, promise!”. They go sightseeing, go to the Space Needle Jensen had only seen from afar, they attend the book readings at the Seattle public library, and they visit the farmer's market to pick up ingredients for a home-cooked dinner.

When Jensen doesn't have to work late or attend business dinners, he spends the evenings at Jared's place more often than not – in a house too big for just one man and his two dogs.

“I bought it together with my ex-boyfriend, when we thought we would start a family soon. And I didn't want to sell it after he left. I loved the place too much to do that,” Jared explains one Saturday. “Covering the mortgage isn't always easy, but the bank helped me out with that.”

“Why did he leave you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“He left me for someone else. For a woman.”

“Oh.”

Jared waves him off.

***

On one of their rare Saturdays off, Jared invites Jensen to accompany him to the Seattle public library. There's the 'It's about time writers' reading series' with readings and open mikes, involving two authors whose books are published by Ferris & Gamble. Misha has had an eye on it for weeks now.

Since books by Ferris & Gamble often feature LGBTQ themes, Jensen finds himself sitting beside Jared, listening to people reading from books that tell the story of a 67-year-old and how she found out she was bisexual, and the story of a teenager dealing with his dad coming out as gay to him and getting divorced from his mom.

It's undoubtedly interesting; it's a topic Jensen never had to think about and never thought about. Simply because he hasn't been affected or concerned by these matters, and it's new to hear it from another person's point of view.

Afterwards, he's still kind of in a daze as Misha and Jared discuss the authors, and only snaps out of it when Jared sidesteps him to hug a stranger. “Hey, Paul!” he greets him cheerfully.

“Jared! Knew I'd meet you here,” Paul laughs, and then turns to Jensen as soon as Jared unwraps his arm from his shoulders.

“Jensen, this is Paul, head of our LGBTQ support group at the community center in Capitol Hill. Paul, my friend and co-worker Jensen,” Jared introduces them.

“Nice to meet you,” Jensen says as he shakes Paul's hand, quickly takes note of the jeans and a plaid shirt and of Paul's shaggy, light brown hair. He can't be much younger than Jared.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Paul smiles, then shoots a teasing grin at Jared. “I'm surprised I haven't heard about you from Jared yet. Which is a miracle in itself, since he usually can't shut up for two minutes.”

“Hey!” Jared protests meekly. “Don't blame me. We haven’t had much time to talk lately andwe need to catch up some time soon.”

“Yeah, I know. Will you be there the Sunday after next?” Paul asks.

“Definitely.”

“Cool! And hey, you're invited, too,” he adds towards Jensen, who eyes him confused. “We're having an event for supporting the local LGBTQ youth, basically giving advice on coming out and other topics concerning teenagers. We do that every other week,” Paul elaborates.

“I'm usually there for the 'dealing with your parents' part,” Jared says, not without pride.

“Oh, I don't—” Jensen scratches the back of his neck. “I think this is a misunderstanding. I don't think I'd exactly fit in there.”

“Jensen, you don't need to be gay to be able to take part in this,” Jared adds.

Jensen feels kind of trapped with his hand in the cookie jar.

Paul whistles to himself right then. “Ah, I see. Jared is right, though. Everybody is welcome. Oh, and speaking of— Do you know if Ty is gonna be there?”

“If he doesn't want to, I'll promise to drag him to it,” Jared smiles.

“Great,” Paul says and practically beams.

After a short goodbye, Jensen is still wondering. “Does that mean that Ty is active at the community, too?”

“Well, yeah,” Jared nods and quickly checks that Paul is out of earshot before he continues, “Paul has a bit of a crush on him, but it's really sweet. I don't think Ty has noticed anything yet, since Paul is very shy about it. Sometimes you just want to knock their heads together. If I'm sure of one thing, it's that Paul is exactly Ty's type.”

“Wait,” Jensen looks up at his friend. “What? Ty's gay?”

“Yeah?”

“Wow. I didn't notice that,” Jensen says surprised.

“Well now you know,” Jared winks and laughs when Jensen's confused glance doesn't change.

“The things I learn about you guys,” Jensen mumbles, more to himself.

***

When it's 6 p.m. and the event at the community center is winding down, Jensen stands at the sidelines and waits for Jared. He's still busy talking to Paul.

“Had fun?” Ty's appears beside him, a glass of coke in his hands.

“Yeah, it was pretty interesting,” Jensen answers. “And, you know, I don't have much experience with the topic, but it's good that there's people like you out there, helping these teenagers.”

Ty nods simply. “Someone's gotta. There's still too many out there who are too afraid to come out to their parents, and it's hard for a lot of them. You know, it's events like these that make me grateful for being long over that phase. I'm glad I can live the life I want and I'm glad to be out and proud.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, swallowing heavily.

His eyes drift over to Jared, who's just laughing unabashed at something Paul said, head thrown back and the curve of his neck on display. Jensen smiles at the picture, and like he somehow noticed, Jared turns to look at him. Their eyes meet over the distance and Jared smiles widely, leaving Jensen with warmth spreading in his chest.

“Thanks for helping out with the equipment, by the way,” Ty adds, effectively making Jensen snap out of it.

“That little bit with the microphones? Sure—was no problem,” Jensen smiles.

For a moment, they stand there in silence, watching Jared and Paul saying goodbye.

“Guess that's my cue, too,” Ty says, and Jensen can hear something new in his voice. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Are you gonna head out with Paul?”

“We're getting dinner, yes.”

When Jensen turns to Ty, he has a secretive smile on his face and his eyes focused on Paul. “Have fun,” he says, heartfelt.

“Thanks, we will,” Ty slaps his shoulder lightly and waves at Jared as the other man passes by.

Jared waves back and nods towards Jensen. “Ready to go?”

“Ready to go where? Dinner?” Jensen gives him a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, I know a great place right around the corner,” Jared grins. “If you're interested.”

With a shrug, Jensen starts walking towards the exit.

***

They end up getting dinner together that night, some delicious Thai food at a restaurant down by the harbor. If Jensen is a bit too deep in thought during the meal and lets Jared do the talking – which the other man does gladly– then that has most definitely something to do with meeting Paul and learning about Ty, plus the book reading the other day. Hearing about someone discovering their sexual identity while they were already retired, or married with kids, had made him ponder. And three of the men he works or spends time with on a daily basis have surprised him with their sexuality.

Well, never judge a book by its cover.

Because looking at Jared now – in jeans, white and blue plaid shirt with a white v-neck peeking out from the open buttons on his collar, drinking beer – he couldn't be more different from how Jensen has always pictured gay men. He isn't wearing anything sparkly or in rainbow colors, and he's as far from flamboyant as he'll ever get. And Ty? Ty even ups Jared in being down-to-earth, being Johnny Everyman. And Misha is just Misha—but Misha is married.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jensen asks after a particularly long pause, when they're done with their meals. He swirls the last of his RedHook beer in the glass before draining it.

“Shoot,” Jared prompts.

“When did you realize that you were gay?”

A smirk tugs at the edges of Jared's lips. “When Gary Smith kissed me in the locker room in high school. I was... sixteen, I think. Needless to say it wasn't serious, but we were seeing each other for a while.”

“Hm,” Jensen comments, because he's kind of at a loss. “Just... like that?”

“Nah. I mulled it over for weeks, since I couldn't accept it right away. For the record, I have yet to meet a guy who could do that so easily. And I never thought I'd be that guy, you know. That queer kid. But, as horrible as that identity crisis was, the kiss got me thinking,” Jared sighs. When he looks up at Jensen, who just stares at him speechlessly – well, not at Jared, but at Jared's lips – Jared grins. “Sometimes you need a reason to start that thinking process.”

“Yeah, I totally get that,” Jensen answers, and avoids Jared's eyes in favor of turning to the light rain falling down at the other side of the window, to wonder some more.

Luckily, he's saved by the waitress, who suddenly arrives at their table. Jared asks for the check and, when she's gone, he turns back to Jensen.

“So, you never thought about it?”

“About what?”

“What it's like to be with a man,” Jared says. “If the kissing or the sex would be different.”

“Not really, no,” Jensen huffs, and peels at the label of his beer before he slowly turns towards his friend. “I never had a reason to. Except lately, there's... Well.”

For a moment, Jared just looks at him in surprise, then chuckles. “Lately there's what?”

“Nothing,” Jensen quickly returns. He is so not ready for this.

And Jared, the saint that he is, lets him go. Just watches him a bit more closely for the rest of the evening.

***

Two weeks later, it's already past 9 p.m. when Jensen stumbles through Jared's front door, feeling hungry and prissy and dead on his feet.

"Dude," Jared shoots him a surprised look, "Don't think I’m not happy to see you, but didn't you want to head home after work?"

"Yeah, I did. I also wanted to work through lunch so I could get this done quickly, but it didn't really work out that way," Jensen sighs heavily, toeing off his shoes behind the door. "Also, sorry for ditching you at lunch like that."

Jared waves him off. "'s okay. You want a beer?"

"If there's some left of that microbrew you had last weekend, yes."

While Jared hurries off, barefoot and in his sweatpants, Jensen sighs again. It's one of those days where he worked his ass off and still got nowhere, and he's more than glad that it's over. And he just had to come see Jared, because now, at his place, alone, he would've lost his mind.

Jensen flops down on Jared's sofa, sinks into the soft cushions and feels like he's in heaven, especially when Jared appears beside him with two bottles of beer in his hands.

"So, you wanna tell me what happened?" Jared asks and takes a sip.

"You don't wanna know," Jensen huffs, "but uh... there was a letter this morning. From Green Publishing."

Jared frowns at the mention of their competitor. Their huge, successful, big name competitor. "Okay."

"We got a letter from their lawyer in the Mail today. You remember Rosenbaum?"

"Mike? The one with the 'Homoeroticism in Video Games' book?"

"Exactly," Jensen nods and twists the bottle around in his hands. "I recently drew up a contract for an author who's been under contract with us for years, and noticed that you used a phrase in his contract that was unfortunately also used in Mike's. I cut it, for various reasons. It wasn't a big deal, but... well, you basically said in there that Ferris & Gamble has the right to publish the author’s older works, if other publishers have put it out of print."

There's a few moments where they sit in silence, then Jared says, "Yeah, I did. I thought it was a foregone conclusion, since the author always has the original rights to his story."

"Yes, he does. But the definition of 'put out of print' is individually set for each contract. Often the author has to follow a set procedure to get his or her rights reverted, usually by terminating the contract. And that's the problem. Green stopped printing and promoting Mike's book on their website five years ago, but they claim that in their contract there's a clause that won't make them lose their rights to publish the book until 10 years after putting it out of print. That is, if the contract isn't terminated, and apparently, Mike didn't terminate the contract."

"I always thought it would terminate without further notice after two years?"

"That's our common clause, yes. However, if they had an individual clause that Mike agreed to and we published that book – which we did - then we're stuck with copyright infringement and violation of a contract."

Jared swallows heavily when Jensen looks at him from the side. “We made a hefty amount of money off that book. It's one of our most popular ones.”

“I know. And that's what I'm gonna have to tell Sam tomorrow.”

“Shit,” Jared says. “I'm sorry. I didn't—”

“I know you didn't know, Jared. It's no excuse in law, but it is in my book, okay? I'm gonna fix this. That's my job, alright?”

They wallow in silence for a while, each nursing their beer.

“Sorry for ruining your evening,” Jensen eventually says meekly.

“No, don't,” Jared sighs. “But now that you're here, you want something to eat? I've still got some leftover chicken in the fridge.”

***

“So, what do we do?” Sam asks the next day, rubbing her temples.

“Schedule a meeting, and try to get them to agree to a mediation and to not sue us.”

“And you think that's gonna work?”

“I'm an optimist. And a skilful negotiator. At least, I like to think so.”

***

Jensen's 35th birthday isn't a big deal. For him.

But when he gets called to an “important meeting” at 3 p.m., the entire staff is waiting for him in the boardroom, and there's cake and they sing him Happy Birthday. No one at his old firm would've done something remotely close to that for him, and Jensen finds himself standing in front of his co-workers and his boss, speechless.

“I'm really happy that I applied for this job, you know,” he coughs, covering the fact that he's pretty touched, and his eyes involuntarily wander to Jared. “Thanks.”

“We're lucky to have you,” Sam says simply and smiles.

One after the other, they wish him a happy birthday, with hugs and handshakes, and a good-natured punch to the shoulder from Misha. The last one to congratulate him is Jared, and he embraces Jensen tightly and with so much force that it leaves him breathless. Jensen can't help but grin.

“Happy birthday, man,” he says in a fond tone.

“Thanks,” Jensen's voice breaks unexpectedly, but he covers it yet again by burying his face in Jared's shoulder. Jared has easily become one of his best friends, if not his best friend, over the course of the last few months.

He pulls away from the taller man, then, and Jared asks, “How about we have dinner tonight? At Jim's bar & grill?”

“Yeah, I'd love to,” Jensen grins.

***

“Thanks for the nice evening,” Jensen says later, when they arrive at his apartment and he lets them in.

The Talisker that Jared presented him with was good, but they aren't drunk, not after delicious grilled steaks that were so good they almost made Jensen homesick. Since it's Friday, they had all the time they wanted, and ended up talking through the evening with Misha and Ty, leaving Jim's bar at last call, and taking a cab to Jensen's apartment to crash there.

Jared's arm curls around his waist, squeezes him tight. “You're welcome.”

Jensen squeezes back before he turns to stand in front of his friend, his hand slipping to rest at Jared's waist.

That's when he meets Jared's eyes, and the words he intended to say are acutely forgotten. His mouth goes dry.

Jared's eyes are hooded, and his eyelids drop to half-mast as he watches Jensen with a warm, almost affectionate smile. They are way too close to each other, Jensen realizes, but he can't find it in himself to protest or shove Jared away. His body is warm and feels nice and solid under Jensen's hands. He hasn't felt anything like this in a while. So instead of breaking the moment, he takes in the fine lines of Jared's eyes and nose, down to the soft curve of his lips, which are full and slightly parted and huffing out short puffs of air. Jensen can feel them on his cheek.

He licks his lips in a fruitless attempt to distract himself from the sudden urges spiking up in him. He's felt them building for weeks, but right now, standing so close to Jared in his dark living room, the feeling is amplified beyond anything Jensen has ever wanted.

He wants to lean in, wants to feel Jared's lips against his, wants to know what he tastes like. If it's any different from kissing a girl. Because damn, Jared's lips look kissable, and the way his heart suddenly leaps in his chest makes Jensen breathless. And Jared is his friend, and he's gay, so he won't mind, right?

Fuck it.

Jensen curls his hand around Jared's neck and pulls him down, meeting him halfway in an experimental, quick kiss. Jared takes a second to catch up with what's going on, but then he's flicking his tongue over Jensen's bottom lip and kissing him back with passion Jensen didn't expect. Their lips lock, and while they share a quiet grin between them, Jensen nips and teases at Jared's lips playfully. There's stubble scratching along Jensen's cheeks, which is completely new.

But.

Jesus, he's kissing Jared, and it's kind of amazing.

And he doesn't really know if he should be shocked or freaked out or none of the above.

Until Jared pushes himself away with a jerk, hands falling to his sides, and asks, “Why are you kissing me?”

For a moment, Jensen blinks, but the answer is obvious. “Because I wanted to.”

Jared huffs, shakes his head. “I should probably go.”

“Dude, the couch is right there,” Jensen deadpans as he points at said piece of furniture, “and it's all yours.”

And who's the one freaking out now? Not Jensen. He can deal with this, whatever it is, in the morning. But that doesn't mean that Jared needs to take another cab when they purposefully shared one so Jared could sleep over at his place.

“No, no... I should definitely go,” Jared insists and raises both hands in defense.

“If you want to, but it's really okay if you stay.”

“But I... you... this wasn't supposed to—”

Jensen grabs both of Jared's shoulders, shaking him lightly to make him snap out of his thousand-yard stare. “It's okay. We can talk about it in the morning, alright? I don't know about you, but I'm too tired for that discussion now. I just... that was a gut reaction, okay? Let's go to sleep.”

With that, Jensen pushes a blanket into Jared's hands and goes to fetch a bottle of water from the fridge. “Fine,” Jared mumbles, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. He pulls off his shirt, shucks off his jeans, and then settles on the couch.

Jensen can't help but smile at the adorable picture of Jared-the-giant curled up on his couch under Jensen's favorite fluffy blanket. “Night, Jare.”

“G'night, Jen,” Jared mumbles, and Jensen thinks he already hears him snoring when he places the bottle on the table and heads for his own bedroom.

***

Jared is still asleep and snoring away on the couch when Jensen goes to fetch himself a drink in the morning. The blanket is halfway down Jared's legs and mostly piled up on the floor. His hair is a wild mop of brown strands, and his hand is curled under his head. And yes, Jensen is kind of standing beside him and staring.

It's also the moment that memory hits his sleep-clouded brain.

So, he kissed Jared last night.

Well, shit.

Jensen feels his heart picking up the pace, and he flees to the kitchen. The door of the fridge squeaks when he opens it, and Jensen winces when he grabs a bottle of water. He hasn't even gotten the chance to think about how to handle the situation when he hears a groan and footfalls on the wooden floor, and then there's Jared standing in the doorway of the kitchen in his boxers, hair disheveled, with a small smile on his face.

“Mornin',” he drawls, followed by a yawn.

Jensen mumbles a good morning to him and quickly turns to avoid Jared's eyes. “You want some coffee?” he asks, busying his hands with the coffee machine.

“Yeah, that'd be great.”

Awkward silence stretches between them, making Jensen jittery. Yesterday, he was so sure that he could talk about it, but things don't seem that easy in the harsh light of day.

When Jensen pours the water into the tank, he spills a bit of it— and Jared is quickly standing right beside him, towel in his hands to wipe it up. Jensen flinches and wants to turn away, when Jared rests his hand on his elbow.

“Listen,” he says seriously. “We don't need to talk about it, ever. But if you want to, I'm here. Otherwise, I'll pretend it never happened.”

And Jensen feels just as strange as Jared sounds. That's not Jared talking there, because Jensen is sure that Jared wants to talk about the kiss; he can see it in his face when he looks up.

“Seriously?” he asks back. “That's not what you want to do, and we both know it.”

Jared startles, but eventually huffs. “You're right, but I want to give you all the time you need.”

Jensen huffs, unable to understand why Jared goes so easy on him.

“You're too understanding for your own good.”

“Probably,” Jared sighs. “I also like you a lot, so if I can help in any way, let me know.”

“Help with what?” Jensen asks, confused for a second there.

“Well, in case you're wondering if you're straight or just curious—”

Jensen jerks away abruptly in shock. “I'm not—I'm not gay!”

Jared shrugs. “If you don't identify as gay, that's okay.”

“Just because that happened, I'm not—”

“Jensen,” Jared raises his voice slightly to cut through Jensen's rambling, grabs his shoulder firmly. “It's fine. I don't want to push anything. We're good.”

“We're good?” A deep sigh drops from Jensen's lips as he leans back.

“Yeah, of course,” Jared smiles, and the smile warms Jensen more than the cup of coffee that's currently brewing in the machine beside him will.

“I don't want to pretend that that... I mean, that the kiss never happened,” Jensen blurts out. It cost him a lot of courage to act on this urge of his in the first place.

“Me neither,” Jared admits, after a moment of hesitation.

When Jensen looks up at him, his eyes are immediately drawn to the pair of lips he kissed in that bold move yesterday. Jared's lips are full and reddened, as if he nibbled and bit down on his bottom lip a bit too much. “If anything...” Jensen starts, but trails off to clear his throat. “If anything, I'd like to do it again.”

“That so?” Jared asks, and his lips slowly spread into a grin. He steps closer, cups Jensen's cheek carefully with one hand, waiting.

“Yeah,” Jensen confirms, his voice breaking at that one small word.

Then he takes the chance he's offered and presses his lips firmly to Jared's. It's slow and languid, nothing like the rushed kiss yesterday. It's not about making contact, but savoring it. Jared follows the slow drag of Jensen's lips against his, lets him set the pace, and Jensen gets to explore unhurriedly. The stubble on Jared's cheek is longer now, scratching against Jensen's skin occasionally, but he doesn't really mind – especially not when Jared sighs blissfully in response to Jensen sucking his bottom lip between his.

When it gets too much, Jensen breaks the contact to catch his breath again. “Jesus,” he says on the exhale.

Jared grins, wide and goofy. “Good?”

“U-huh,” Jensen answers, returning the grin.

“So you're okay with it?”

“I don't know, but I— I want this, I know that much,” Jensen admits.

“As in, you want this repeatedly? Because I can provide that,” Jared chases him with a mischievous smirk.

Instead of answering his question, Jensen kisses him again, less tentative and more sure of it this time. But right when they border on crossing a line, when Jensen lets his lips go slack and allows the kiss to turn open-mouthed, they both quickly pull apart.

“I need a toothbrush,” Jared grimaces. “And then we need to continue this.”

His deadpan statement makes Jensen laugh out loud. “Also breakfast,” he reminds Jared.

“Right, food.”

Jared nips at Jensen's lips one last time before heading towards the bathroom, shouting, “Scrambled eggs?”

“On it!” Jensen shouts back, the joyful grin now permanently fixed to his face.

***

The kissing part is easy to get used to, and Jensen is hardly complaining about it. Much the opposite, in fact. It's been a while since Joanna, and having Jared around, stealing kisses and being happy about it, like a teenager, is uplifting.

The next week at work is rather uneventful. Jensen has practically every evening free to spend how he likes, and of course he spends them with Jared – sprawled out on the couch in front of the TV, at the park with his dogs, or having dinner.

Initially, Jensen was afraid that now that the kissing happened something between them would change.

It didn't.

Out there and at work, they're still colleagues and friends, and Jared purposefully holds himself back from kissing Jensen until they're inside his house.

But holy shit, when they're inside his house, sometimes, it makes Jensen straight-out dizzy, the way Jared kisses him, and a lot of times he ends up with his cock straining hard against the zipper of his jeans. However, it would've been a surprise if he didn't, because Jared is one hell of a kisser.

Still, Jensen is kind of afraid of the next step. Not because he can't imagine how it would work or if it would work, but because he wants it so damn bad that it scares him.

He's never wanted to have sex with a man before.

With Jared, though, he wants to. Really, really bad.

He feels like a hormone-driven teenager all over again, and that should not happen to a guy in his thirties.

And for the record, Jared is a saint.

Jensen kind of wishes he wasn't.

Because Jared is clearly holding back, breaking contact with Jensen when it gets too much and Jensen can tell from the way his breath hitches how aroused he really is. He can tell from the soft moans that Jared keeps well in check, but can't suppress, when Jensen runs his tongue along the inside of his upper lip. And because Jared carefully angles his crotch away every time one of their kisses ends in a situation like this.

If they keep going like this, Jensen will die of blue balls one of these days.

Jared too, obviously.

And then there are pictures, circling around Jensen's head —

Jared's huge palm, wrapped around his cock, strokes him until he comes helplessly all over himself. Jared is on his knees before him, with Jensen's dick in his mouth and a deep groan falling from his lips, and the vibrations make Jensen crazy. Jensen doesn't want to dwell on the third thing that regularly comes to mind, too, because he's definitely scared of that: both of them on Jared's bed, limbs tangled impossibly as one of them fucks the other one into the mattress. He can't decide who would be in which place, so it changes every time his thoughts wander that way. Which is mostly during his morning shower jerk-off session.

He comes, to the image of Jared's mouth going slack as he hits his climax, more often than he likes to count.

Jensen wants Jared, in every sense of the word, and he has no idea how to tell him.

***

The meeting with Green is scheduled for next Thursday, and Jensen already has a bad feeling about it. Still, that's no reason to doubt his ability to turn this around.

But Jensen is nervous.

“Dude, stop fidgeting,” Jared says over dinner, the day before the meeting, when Jensen is busy either pushing around the food on his plate—delicious chicken parmesan with steamed vegetables, made by Jared himself—or twisting his fingers into the hem of his shirt.

“I can't help it.”

“You can't also help the situation. And you're good; you're gonna make the best of it. Since when are you so self-conscious?” Jared asks.

“Since I know this case is pretty damn clear and I'm out of options.”

“How are you out of options?” Jared frowns.

Jensen grunts. “The copy of the contract they sent says ten years. The profits we made from that book are so high that we seriously need to worry about reparations. They'd be stupid to not sue the crap out of us, since that's basically a gold mine. It's what any good lawyer would do.”

With a sigh, Jared puts down his fork. “Okay, I know. Once again, I'm sorry—” Jared waves off the objection Jensen already had on his tongue, “but at least try to relax, and get your mind off these things. If you don't wanna eat, I won't be angry.”

“Nah, I'm actually hungry,” Jensen shakes his head, “Just... too lost in my mind. Can't relax at the moment.”

“I'll help you with that later.”

Jared makes good on his promise. When they're finished, he pulls Jensen easily up and guides him to the couch, where they flop down together—Jared with his back in the corner, Jensen sitting between his legs with his back towards him. Jared's arms are securely wrapped around his shoulder and waist, strong and grounding. And after a quick moment of feeling unsure, of doubting if it's okay, Jensen lets himself sink into Jared's arms, enjoying the warmth and the comfort.

“I know I can't do much,” Jared adds, when he leans forward, whispering into Jensen's ear. “But I can do this.”

Tipping Jensen's chin up and to the side, Jared kisses him quickly. “For good luck.”

Jensen is pretty speechless at that, but decides that the warmth spreading in his chest is definitely something enjoyable. Instead of saying anything, he returns the kiss quickly, captures Jared's lips in his.

They kiss slowly, without urgency, for god knows how long, and Jensen loses track of time, loses himself in the touch of his friend. Only when Jared finally breaks the kiss to gasp for air and whisper his name, short and breathless and so obviously aroused, does Jensen notices that it's the same with him. He's hard from just that kiss, but it's also the sheer need to get some relief, and the desire to let him have this, that makes him breathless.

Jensen looks at Jared. He takes in his flushed cheeks and parted, full lips, and the hungry, urgent gaze with which he's watching Jensen. Another wave of arousal washes over Jensen, and Jared's fucking lips, goddamn—

Before he knows what's happening, they're kissing again. Jared's tongue slips into his mouth smoothly, curling around his own and circling the tip, and Jensen can't help but moan deeply. No one has ever kissed him this way. The women before Jared had always kind-of expected him to take the lead, because he was the man in those relationships or something.

This is so much better, though.

Because Jared... Jared is different. Jared knows and takes and makes Jensen mindless with it.

So, when Jared doesn't retreat, just breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Jensen's temple, asking, with his lips brushing over Jensen's cheek because he's still way too close, “Jen, may I touch you?”

“Huh?” is Jensen's intelligent answer.

A shy smile appears on Jared's lips. “You know, here,” he adds in a low rumble, and he places his hand on Jensen's thigh, slowly running upwards to his crotch, and leaving Jensen plenty of time to protest or shove it away. “If you'd like that. It's just us, right?”

The thing is that Jared's big palm is right there, and despite how nervous it makes Jensen, it makes his stomach decide to do somersaults. That delicious curl and twist is both excitement and lust rolled up into a powerful cocktail of hormones. Jensen surrenders.

He grabs for Jared's neck, pulls him into a more desperate, passionate kiss this time. “Yes,” he moans against Jared's lips. “God, yes, please...”

Jared's hand presses against the bulge in Jensen's pants, cupping his erection through the thick fabric of his jeans, massaging it and getting used to the shape—and Jensen can only moan softly in response. If Jared keeps on rubbing his palm against him like that, it won't take long for him to—

“Jensen,” Jared whispers breathlessly. “Let me take care of this for you?”

It takes Jensen a moment to get what he means, with his brain hazy from arousal. The other man's lips are twisted into a playful smirk, and it basically makes Jensen melt.

“Yes,” he hisses again, right as Jared's lips nibble down the shell of his ear, making him shiver. “Finally,” Jensen utters to himself.

“You know that I'll stop immediately if you're not comfortable with it?” Jared adds then, worry and consideration in his voice.

“U-huh,” Jensen hums.

Jared raises an eyebrow, so Jensen just nods. “I'm comfortable,” he says, hoping that it would get the point across. Jensen shifts his weight so that their bodies slot smoothly together, and it's a surprisingly good fit. It's always been a shorter person in his arms, but never have any of those fit the way Jared's taller figure does.

The eyebrow sinks, and Jared's lips curl into another smile. “Still. Stop me if I'm going too far, okay?”

Jensen doesn't answer, because Jared's hand closes around the bulge once again, and he's momentarily rendered speechless. Again. A short gasp for air makes Jared smile even wider, before he gets back to work with both hands on Jensen's zipper and button. Next thing Jensen knows, his pants are down around his knees, and it's only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs separating Jared's hand from his cock.

Watching him carefully, Jared cups him through the underwear and applies pressure to his dick with long, skilled fingers, and Jensen sighs at the contact. Feels good, go on, is everything his brain can supply to the situation.

Jared is careful with his touches, and Jensen appreciates that, but the kiss from earlier left him pretty damn desperate. So he pushes his hips into Jared's hand, a demanding, slow roll of his pelvis. Jared's gaze wavers for a moment from Jensen's face down to his cock, and he raises a questioning eyebrow as he places both hands on Jensen's hips and slips his thumbs underneath the waistband. Jensen nods his silent consent, and the next second, he's met with cold air on his bare cock.

Jared, general tease that he is, pauses to appreciate the view. Jensen can clearly make out the movement of his Adam's apple bopping up and down before his palm is wrapped around Jensen's dick once again, this time without anything separating skin from skin. Closing his eyes quickly, Jensen leans back against Jared, so he doesn't have to look at him. It's too real, this—everything. No time to think about it.

A moan escapes Jensen's lips as Jared slowly works his hand up and down the shaft, teasing at the tip, with just the right amount of pressure and angle.

“Feels good?” Jared whispers from above him, his voice a deep growl.

“God, yes,” he moans in response.

He can safely say that he hasn't gotten a handjob like this in years. Jared is attentive and still watches him carefully, obviously takes note of every moan and sigh from Jensen. The strokes quickly become faster and more frantic, and Jensen feels how one wave of arousal after another washes over him, and takes him to the edge in no time. He finds himself moaning once more, but this time, it's Jared's name on his lips.

“I'm about to—” he warns, eyes flying open despite his struggle.

“Yeah, c'mon,” Jared drawls deeply, his warm Texan slang making Jensen's toes curl. He pushes Jensen's shirt up with his other hand. On Jensen's cock, his hand adds a twist on the upstroke, right across the head, and that's it.

Jensen's orgasm hits—not unexpected, but with unexpected force—and punches the air right out of his lungs as his body convulses and he groans out deeply, with his head thrown back against Jared's shoulder. He feels his come hitting his stomach, hot spurts and warm drops running down to his belly button. Jared chuckles huskily and lifts his hand to show it to Jensen. It's covered in Jensen's semen, and Jared grins when he licks over his thumb.

And subsequently scrunches up his nose.

Somewhere in the haze that Jensen's still in, he fears that it will be awkward between them afterwards. But, as it turns out, Jared's sour expression makes them both burst into laughter and every possible awkwardness is gone.

“Not really a fan of that,” Jared admits as he reaches for some tissues lying on the couch table.

“I thought that was, like, a requirement for the gay scene or something,” Jensen muses, still basking in the afterglow.

“You're confusing porn with reality. Ever tried your own come?” Jared shoots back, and pauses with his hand on a tissue.

Jensen shifts uncomfortably, having a “Who hasn't?” already on the tip of his tongue when suddenly there's Jared's come-covered hand in front of his face, the prompt clear in Jared's expression.

So instead of saying anything, Jensen lifts his head and licks a small stripe along Jared's index finger. The taste is bitter and slimy on his tongue, and he, too, scrunches up his face. “Hasn't gotten better over the years,” he admits with a wink.

Jared's bubbling laughter is worth it, though, and Jensen chuckles along while grabbing for a tissue himself and cleaning up his stomach. With a smile on his face, Jared wipes the jizz off his hand.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Jensen tucks himself back into his boxer briefs and pants, and watches Jared. “Uhm, should I—” he vaguely waves at Jared's crotch. You know, return the favor.

“Do you want to?”

“I... yes,” Jensen clears his throat, then turns around to kiss Jared. Surprisingly, he doesn't feel unsure about this. It's Jared, after all. And Jared had his dick in his hand just a minute ago. Actually, he can still taste a bit of himself on Jared's lips when he kisses him, which is all kinds of hot.

And when Jared moans, Jensen takes it as encouragement to lay him out flat on the couch and work his pants open. All the while, Jared watches him with his bottom lip between his teeth. As soon as Jensen has his boxers down, he takes a moment to look. Jared is definitely bigger than him, but that's to be expected, and he’s neatly cut like a good Texas boy. Not dwelling further on the thought, Jensen wraps his hand around Jared's dick, and Jared arches his back and groans.

“Good?” Jensen returns Jared's question from before.

Wordlessly, Jared nods, his eyes burning bright.

His cock is thick and heavy in Jensen's hand, and although Jensen only has experience with his own dick so far, there's not much of a difference, except for the angle. He notices that Jared loves it when he lightly strokes only the tip, and loves it even more when he places his thumb at the frenulum, and stimulates the tip just with his index finger.

“Tease,” Jared complains.

“You like it,” Jensen grins and chuckles when Jared just groans frustrated.

All told, it's not nearly the huge step that Jensen thought it would be. Sure, he hasn't seen Jared naked—or half-naked, in this case—before, and he hasn't ever jerked off a guy, but the equipment is familiar. And the rest is just like it was with every other new partner he's ever had sex with - explore and try and see what the other one likes.

When Jared moans out, “Yeah, just like that, just... faster,” and Jensen does as he's told, Jared doesn't last any longer. He locks eyes with Jensen, grins, and then the feeling of Jared's cock in his hand, twitching with his orgasm, makes Jensen stare in wonder. Because Jared is beautiful like this, throwing his head against the armrest with a grunt and arching his back slightly, as every muscle in his body goes taut.

***

Jensen genuinely hates Green's lawyer on first sight. He's way too smug and self-confident. Okay, so he's also, objectively speaking, pretty hot and he obviously knows it.

“Welling,” the other man introduces himself and holds out his hand for Jensen to shake. Jensen knows a bigheaded corporate lawyer when he sees one. He's been one himself long enough.

“Ackles,” Jensen returns with a firm handshake and a cold smile that says 'don't fuck with me'.

Welling, in return, checks him out blatantly; his deep blue eyes traveling unashamed over Jensen's body. Jensen lifts his eyebrow in disbelief.

Then again, it could be a plan to make him uncomfortable and make him nervous, so Jensen steels his nerves and asks, “Is there a problem, Mr. Welling?”

“Not at all,” Welling answers, eyes finally locking with Jensen's.

Welling watches him warily, but then turns around to sit down at the conference table without another word. The tension in the room is almost palpable. It makes Jensen's blood boil, but he wills himself to take a deep breath, and closes his eyes to refocus. Jared's kiss is what he thinks of, and the memory causes Jensen to smile.

He's gonna make it.

When he opens his eyes, Jared is sitting down beside him, smiling encouragingly. Across the table, Welling's eyes go squinty, and Jared shoots him a triumphant smirk.

***

Afterwards, they get their cup of coffee in silence and take it up to the roof top garden.

If Jensen leans against Jared, and chases the warmth he radiates under the crisp spring sun, then that's just how it is.

“Don't feel like this is your fault, because it isn't. You've basically wiped the floor with him and he didn't budge. I don't get it.”

Jensen huffs. “You don't blame yourself, either,” he says.

With a loud sigh, Jared shakes his head, and obviously forces himself to smile. "Nah. You wanna have dinner tonight if I'm cooking?"

"Yeah. But first, I gotta get through a debrief with Sam.”

***

“So, what's the plan now?” Sam asks later that afternoon, sitting down behind her desk.

“I'll talk to Mike. I have to meet up with him to discuss his latest contract anyway,” Jensen explains from the chair facing her. “We'll see if he remembers any specific negotiations concerning that part of the contract, and see if he still has his copy of the contract, while we’re at it. But I'm afraid they just brushed it off as a regular phrase. It was Mike's first contract, after all, and he didn't have an agent back then. I bet he didn't even notice.”

Sam nods, idly twisting the pen between her fingers, pondering. “And what are our options, since they didn't agree to a compensatory payment?”

“Either we offer them an even higher amount of compensation—but from what I've seen from them today, I hardly expect them to agree. In fact, they'd be stupid if they did, since they can sue for an even higher amount in court. Option two: offer them more money and a percentage of future profits from the book. Option three: wait for them to sue us, which, in the worst case, will put us into court. I'm used to that part from my former position, and I can legally represent us. That's not the problem here. However, I'd like to consult an external lawyer to take a look at this beforehand, if you agree.”

“I do.”

“Thank you.”

“Our chances of winning this case in court are pretty much non-existent, though, aren't they?” Sam mutters quietly after a few moments.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“I can't afford to lose the money or the client.”

“I know. But as it is, they're the big publishing house next to our small business, and they don't need to maintain a good business relationship with us. They can afford stepping on our toes,” Jensen sighs.

“Do you think they'd deliberately put us out of business like that? Because, at this point, that's not 'stepping on our toes' any more.”

“I don't know. They might,” Jensen shrugs. “There’s no way we can prove it, even if that’s the case.”

“So what do we do?” Sam sighs.

It's a rhetorical question, making them both sit there in silence for a minute or two.

“Do we know of any other publishers who had problems with Green in the past?” Jensen asks on a whim.

“Not really, no.”

***

After having a quiet, but relaxed dinner with Jared—steaks and mashed potatoes—they curl up on the couch together. Jensen is wiped from the day, and doesn't even care that he's still in his suit and tie; he just leans into the touch of Jared's arm around his shoulders and enjoys the comfort.

It's one of those days where he just wants to be quiet, watch some mindless TV without even listening to what the anchorman says, and not speak a word. He usually spends his evenings catching up on The Huffington Post, but he's too tired to even get his tablet out to read.

Without needing to be told, Jared got that part immediately. Instead of talking non-stop like he usually does, he strokes Jensen's arm absentmindedly as they watch the news, and provides a solid body for Jensen to lean against.

Somewhere during a rerun of Two and a Half Men, Jensen falls asleep on Jared's shoulder.

He's woken some time later by Jared's hand idly carding through his hair, and he blinks into the blurry light of the TV to adjust his vision. Jared smiles down at him fondly when he doesn't move one inch from his position.

“What is it,” Jensen mumbles, although it's not really a question.

“You snore.”

Jensen huffs. “Not always.”

“You drooled on my shirt.”

“Oh,” Jensen says, quickly lifting his head to find, indeed, a wet spot. He quickly wipes over his lips with the back of his hand. “I'm sorry.”

And Jared grins at him, shakes his head. “It was kind of adorable.”

“Shut up, I'm not adorable. I'm a grown-ass man,” Jensen grumbles.

“Trust me, I know,” Jared snickers at that. “Are you feeling better?”

“M-hm.”

“Great,” Jared says, and leans in to kiss Jensen on his lips. Just a short peck, quick and affectionate.

“How late is it, anyway?”

“11 p.m. - You wanna stay the night?” Jared offers.

Jensen is, admittedly, quite comfortable right where he is, at Jared's side, and he doesn't want to leave. Sure, he could still catch a bus, but, on a day like this, he'd probably fall asleep on the 10 minute ride and miss his stop. And, honestly, why not take Jared up on his offer?

So he nods, much to Jared's obvious joy, and they let the dogs out into the yard before they prepare for bed.

“I didn't really expect... well, this,” Jared says when they they're on their way up to the second floor. “So the guest room isn't prepared. You can have the couch if you want, or the other half of my bed.”

And well, said bed turns out to be king-sized and looks very inviting, and Jensen knows for a fact that he's too tall to stretch out on the couch anyway.

“I'll take the bed, if you don't mind.”

“As if I’d mind,” Jared huffs and shakes his head amused, then wraps his arms around Jensen's waist, pulling him flush against his body to kiss him. Soft, determined, gentle, happy. He's grinning against Jensen's lips, placing a series of short, playful nips and kisses on them as he starts to walk them into the room. Jensen has his back to the bed and is actually surprised when the edge of the mattress hits the backs of his shins. Instinctively, he lets himself fall backwards, and makes sure to pull Jared down with him.

The taller man ends up hovering over Jensen with his knees on both sides of Jensen's hips, and when their kiss breaks due to the impact, they stare at each other breathlessly.

Until Jared chuckles and lets one of his hands run down the row of buttons on Jensen's shirt. “Have I already told you how insanely hot you look in a suit?”

“No, you haven't,” Jensen smirks.

“Then, for the record, I could eat you alive,” Jared growls, then leans back down to lock their lips together, nibbles at Jensen's bottom lip with his teeth and subsequently runs his tongue over it. He flips open button after button, until Jensen's tie is the only thing that holds the shirt together at the collar.

Needless to say, Jensen is instantly fully awake from his nap and very much interested. That much is clear when Jared places his thigh between Jensen's legs, and leans forward to cover Jensen completely with his body. They're pressed against each other from head to toe, Jared's erection unmistakable against the jut of Jensen's hip.

Jared hums contently as he slips his tongue into Jensen's mouth, and at this point, Jensen is already turning to jello under Jared’s hands, which are busy pulling his tie loose and pushing his shirt aside. Having Jared on top of him like that is new, and it’s also sexy as fuck, and Jensen feels his heart racing and his dick hardening where it’s pressed against Jared’s. The long, thick line of it is prominently throbbing against him, and he hasn’t felt anything like it ever before.

At this point, he just wants to shove his hand down the front of Jared's pants - so he does.

“Oh,” Jared breaks the kiss to stare at him when Jensen's hand closes around his dick, stroking him in the narrow space that his pants provide. “So I guess I don't have to ask if you're in the mood, too?” he grins.

A chuckle drops from Jensen's lips. “Well, after a day like this, I could really do with some relaxation.”

“I think I've got just the right idea for that,” Jared grins, nibbles along Jensen's jaw, kisses his way down his chest and mouths at his stomach. When he reaches the waistband of Jensen’s suit pants, he buries his nose right beside his hard cock, and only a few layers of clothing are separating Jared’s mouth from it.

Jensen wordlessly opens his belt buckle and the button underneath. It takes Jared mere seconds to get with the program, and after opening Jensen's zipper, he lowers his mouth over the hard bulge in Jensen's boxer briefs. Playfully, he moves his mouth down the shaft, nipping at the soft cotton, and Jensen just wants.

“You okay with this?” Jared adds as an afterthought.

Jensen raises an eyebrow instead of answering Jared straight away, and simply pushes down his pants and underwear as far as possible. Jared takes care of it from there, pulling the clothes fully off, and Jensen watches, amused, as Jared's eyes go wide at the sight of his cock, curving up towards his belly.

“Jesus,” he groans, and dips his head to lick across and around the head, before engulfing Jensen's cock with his mouth.

It happens so fast that Jensen barely has time to react, but when he registers what's happening, all he can do is groan.

At first, Jensen tenses all over from the familiar, yet different sensation. Jared's five o'clock shadow rubs against his sensitive skin when he sucks Jensen balls deep into his throat, and Jensen moans helplessly underneath him.

Damn straight he's okay with this. Really, really okay with this.

Jared looks up from in-between his legs and winks, then starts bopping up and down on his dick, and Jensen watches in fascination. It's not his first blowjob, far from that.

But while Joanna wasn't exactly prude when it came to stuff they did in bed, she always refused to blow him. So when Jared's tight, wet mouth around him makes him groan yet again, Jensen seriously asks himself how he has managed to live this long without a blowjob.

As if he had read Jensen's thoughts, Jared looks up again as he slowly pulls off. “Love your cock,” he mumbles as he licks his way down the shaft until he reaches Jensen's balls. Carefully, he wraps his lips around Jensen's sack and sucks one testicle into his mouth, tongue grazing gently over the sensitive area. Which Jensen hasn't had done to him ever, taking him completely by surprise and almost making him come.

Jared retreats quickly and watches amused as Jensen's dick gives a few desperate twitches.

“Shut up,” Jensen grins down at him, and tries to catch his breath again.

“I didn't say anything,” Jared defends himself with sparkling eyes before he goes back down on Jensen.

And Jensen can't help but lose himself in the feeling of Jared's lips on him, hot and wet and perfect around the head of his dick, while the other man's fingers pump along the shaft simultaneously. The strokes alternate between gentle and teasing to quick and frantic, and Jensen finds himself way too close to coming yet again.

Jared looks up once more, grins around the cock between his lips when he notices Jensen's obviously flushed cheeks and gaping lips. He uses his palm to cup Jensen's balls, rolls them in his fingers carefully, sending another wave of pleasure through him.

Which, finally, is too much for Jensen to hold off his orgasm any longer.

“Jared,” he moans. “I'm gonna-”

Taking the warning, Jared manages to pull off just in time. His climax hits hard, come splattering all over Jared's hand and his own belly as waves of arousal wash over him repeatedly. Jensen is so gone, so lost in the force of his orgasm that he's not able to form one coherent thought right now.

Only after he has taken a few shaky breaths, does Jensen slowly opens his eyes to find Jared still kneeling between his spread legs, chin rested on his hip and watching him.

“You're insanely hot when you're coming,” Jared tells him, his voice wrecked. He straightens up so he's at eye level with Jensen, and Jensen doesn't hesitate for a second before leaning in and capturing those swollen lips between his. He can still taste himself on Jared's lips, and if Jensen hadn’t been so deeply sated and hadn't still felt the adrenaline from his orgasm pumping through his veins, he'd probably be ready for round two right now.

Jared moans desperately into his mouth, and Jensen realizes he's the only one who's had some relief so far. With a grin, Jensen covers Jared's hard, straining dick with his hand. He strokes the bulge firmly, uses his whole palm to create pressure, and meets the subsequent jerk of Jared's hips.

“Jensen,” Jared moans. “It's not—please.”

“Not what?” Jensen teases, as he slowly opens the zipper of Jared's jeans.

“Not enough,” Jared punctuates it with a kiss, whispering roughly against Jensen's lips, “Need something more. Your hand on me, just—anything. Please...” he trails off and latches his lips onto Jensen's once more.

Without a word, Jensen grins against his lips as he undoes the button. Then he slips his hand under the waistband of Jared's jeans and cups his cock firmly, muffling Jared's moan against his mouth.

It only takes a couple well-paced strokes and some licking against his lips for Jared to lean back and groan loudly, his head dropping heavily onto Jensen's shoulder as he comes. Jared's dick in Jensen's hand is pulsing, spilling come down onto Jensen's belly, where it mingles with his own.

And Jensen promptly finds he has to replace the hottest moment he's ever witnessed in his life.

“Wow,” he says afterwards. “Remind me to return that favor properly some time.”

“Oh, that was hot enough as it was,” Jared pants heavily.

Jensen grins at him, and then reaches out to card his fingers through Jared's floppy hair, brushing it away from his face gently. When he makes it to Jared's neck, Jensen pulls Jared into another kiss, a slow one this time.

***

There are a few things that still get Jensen's mind reeling, but for the moment, he tries to avoid them.

For one, there's the fact that once upon a time, he wanted to have a family at this point in his life – a wife, a house, a dog, and 2.4 kids. Instead, he's questioning his sexual identity at age 35, and has no idea how to deal with it, other than to spend a lot of time with his best friend, with whom he has a relationship that qualifies as something between friends with benefits and dating.

Scratch that, dating isn't an option at the moment. He's okay with friends with benefits.

Jensen would rather bury his head in work, working late and establishing regular business dinners with his clients than to go out and meet new people—read: women. And really, it's okay like that. It's not like he's got time for dating someone anyway.

Sexually speaking, regular handjobs from Jared are just as satisfying without the trouble of dating. There's the occasional blowjob happening in between, and Jensen finds out that while Jared is everything but submissive when it comes to sex, he loves having Jensen's hands in his hair, pushing him down onto his cock. Jensen doesn't complain, because it's hot as hell and no girl let him fuck her mouth, ever. Jared gets off on it, one time notably in his pants without one tiny bit of stimulation from Jensen's side.

There are a few things he finds out about himself, too. He likes it when Jared strips him completely naked, covers his body with his bulkier form, and rubs their cocks together. That move has something so innocent and yet so dirty that it almost makes Jensen come immediately the first time they do it. Jared surprised him yet again by wrapping his huge palm around both their dicks and stroking them together, and he doesn't last long after that.

So, sexually speaking and general confusion aside, Jensen is pretty content. He's not gay, but sex with Jared is awesome.

***

Michael Rosenbaum meets up with him at the beginning of May for a revision of his contract. It took Jensen and Sam some negotiations, but at this point, the contract is finally ready to sign. So Jensen heads down to Ty's coffee shop in the early afternoon of a rainy Wednesday to find the author sitting at the table in the quiet corner they prefer.

They met several times since the contract litigations started, and Jensen has gotten to know Mike as a balding, but confident man who has no problem announcing his bisexuality to the world at large. He's also a huge fan of video games, which resulted in both his first and his latest book.

“Mike,” Jensen greets him with a wide smile.

“Jensen,” Mike answers cheerfully, getting up to shake his hand and pull him into a half-armed hug. “How are you?”

“Good, really good,” Jensen smiles as he returns the greeting. “Anything I can get you?”

“Tall coffee, black, please?”

A short minute of Ty working his magic later, Jensen sits back down at the table, placing a cup of Ty's delicious house roasted coffee in front of Mike and a similar one in front of himself.

“So,” he starts without further ado. “First things first, about our issue with Green-”

Mike nods and sighs. “I know. Sorry, but I couldn't find the copy of the contract you asked me for. I guess it's somewhere in all the stuff I stored at my parent's place after my last move.”

Jensen rubs his temple with one hand, trying to ease the upcoming headache. “That's unfortunate. Could you maybe ask them to look through it?”

“Already did. But it's a lot and my mom doesn't know in which box to look. I don't have the time to fly back home at the moment, so I'll have to wait for her to find it.”

Jensen sighs, closes his eyes for a second.

“Sorry for not having better news for you,” Mike says, and Jensen feels guilty for making him look so crestfallen.

“Hey, no, it's okay. It's not like that'd change much about the clause that's causing the issue here, anyway,” Jensen shrugs.

“They didn't even discuss this with me back then, and I was just glad that I had a pretty fair deal for my first book. I always thought it was a standard writer.”

“I know you did, Mike. We'll see what we'll do, just let me know if that contract surfaces. Okay, so... I've got your contract, edited the way we agreed on last time, right here. Take note of this—and this clause that we changed.” His explanation is completed by pointing at the parts he's talking about, quickly filing through the document.

“I see,” Mike nods after a long while of studying the contract. “So about the royalties—”

Jensen raises his hands, smiles in a placating way. “You know that we really don't have an option here, like we discussed before.”

“Yes, I know,” Mike quickly backpedals, “but that wasn't what I was going to say.”

“Oh, sorry. What was it, then?” Jensen takes a sip of his coffee.

“I want the first one thousand dollar of royalties out of this book donated to the community center in Capitol Hill.”

“I think we can arrange that,” Jensen says as he quickly adds the sentence to the paragraph in question. He proceeds to offer the ballpoint pen for Mike to sign, but he waves it off.

“Good,” Mike says. “You know I was at that event not too long ago, and seeing you and your CFO there made me think about helping the members of this community. It's great to see that a publisher like Ferris & Gamble is actively pursuing the matter they're selling, too.”

“Oh,” says Jensen, watching surprised as Mike takes his own pen out of his pocket. “I was just a guest helping out. Jared's the one who's there regularly.”

“That's still admirable, you know. That you're both invested in this.”

“Well, it's for a good cause, so.”

“I bet it's also easier to cut down your time for a partner who shares your interests, one way or another,” Mike muses aloud as he recaps the pen after having signed the contract. “I'm still waiting for someone like that,” he sighs at the afterthought.

That's when Jensen finally registers more than the contract being handed over the table by Mike. “No, we're not, like... we're not a couple.”

For a moment, Mike's jaw drops, but he quickly catches himself, lips shifting to a smile. “Oh, well, that's... actually not too bad. Because since we're done here officially, I wanted to ask you if you want to get dinner with me sometime.”

“Dinner like a date?” Jensen asks cautiously, stalling his answer.

“If you want it to be one,” Mike smiles even wider and winks. “For the record, I'd definitely prefer it to be a date.”

Jensen still feels dumbfounded and puts away the contract with a strange feeling in his gut. “I'm sorry, but I... um,” Jensen stutters. “Don't get me wrong, but I don't think I-” - am in the set of mind for dating, have been single long enough, am gay - “I don't think it's the right time for that now.”

The smile on Mike's face falls, but he shrugs it off. “It's okay. I just thought I could always ask, you know, since you're... never mind.”

“I don't mind, I'll just take it as a compliment,” Jensen replies briefly, trying to ease the mood.

“Yeah, definitely,” Mike winks. “You're a great guy, if I might say so.”

“Thank you,” Jensen nods and feels his cheeks warm up. Jesus, he's not good at taking compliments. “You too, for the matter. But, you know...”

Mike looks at him ruefully for a few moments, with his smile frozen on his face. “Yeah, I know. Wrong time,” he sighs, but he's quickly back to his usual, cheerful self. “So. Caught up on any baseball lately, like I recommended?”

Jensen takes the out without hesitation. “A bit, yes. The Mariners look quite interesting. Jared and I actually talked about going to a game some time soon.”

Mike gives him another cryptic, thoughtful look, and sighs again. “You probably should. They'll hardly top last year's season, but they're fun to watch.”

And so they sit for another hour in the coffee shop, even getting a second round of coffee. By the time Mike bids his farewell, Jensen is sure that if he was a gay man, he would definitely be interested.

But as it is, there are enough variables in his life at the moment. He doesn't need another one.

***

“Mike asked you out?” Jared grins as they enter his house, right before he's tackled by his dogs.

“He did,” Jensen says, scratching behind Harley's ears.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And did you take him up on it?” Jared clarifies his question, then rises to his full height and shoos the dogs into the living room. His tone is indifferent - not concerned, just curious. And that's kind of rubbing Jensen the wrong way, for whatever reason.

“No, I didn't,” Jensen grimaces because that was the obvious thing to do and shrugs.

“Well, why not? Mike's a nice guy, isn't he?”

Jensen faces Jared, grumbling out, “Yes, he is. But I'm not an asshole pretending to be into guys when I'm not.”

It slips out, and Jensen immediately regrets it. Because it kind of is a lie and it kind of isn't.

It's been weeks. Weeks since that first handjob happened, and since a couple more happened. Plus, blowjobs. Mutually. And since they started kissing on a pretty regular basis.

Yet here he is, stating loud and clear that he's got no interest in men.

Jared looks away, avoids his gaze, but his stance changes. He crosses his arms in front of his chest to seem more solid, more in a defensive position, before he lets out a long breath. “You're not into guys,” he repeats, slowly, as he takes a step towards Jensen.

“No,” Jensen answers, because he might like having this... whatever it is with Jared, but he's not interested in other men. That much is clear.

Since he's standing right in front of Jensen, Jared barely has to lean down to kiss him. There's nothing soft or gentle about the kiss, it's demanding from the very start. Jared's hands have dropped to his sides, not reaching for Jensen's waist or neck like they usually do. It only makes Jensen more focused on the kiss itself, no distraction whatsoever keeping him from giving into Jared's touch. He kisses Jared back with all he has; just as unrelenting and hungry, not even second-guessing it.

Kissing Jared feels good, and so does touching Jared. And being kissed by Jared... holy shit.

Kissing is something they’ve been doing for a while now, kissing is something they know how to do, and it sweeps Jensen off his feet almost every time.

This time is no different, even though Jensen knows that Jared is trying to prove a point here.

And when the kiss turns really dirty, with Jensen slipping his tongue into Jared's mouth and across Jared's lips and along Jared's tongue, Jared groans heavily.

Which goes pretty much instantly to Jensen's cock.

Jesus, he wants to hear that sound, again and again.

He doesn't even think when he starts to push Jared towards the couch, quickly working his pants open and letting them pile up on the floor.

Jared's cock is a long, hard line, slightly curved to the right in his tight boxer briefs, and, for whatever reason, the sight makes Jensen's mouth water. He's seen Jared's dick before, and had it in his hands before, but the urge that's rising up in him now is new. He slowly eases his hands down the sides of Jared's hips, and slips them under the band of his briefs. Languidly, he pushes them down to enjoy the show of Jared's cock springing up as soon as its restriction is gone.

He wants to suck Jared's cock like nobody's business.

It's not only a new, but an overwhelming, thought. If he wants to suck guys, does that make him gay? What if it's just Jared he wants to suck? What if he still likes eating out girls after this?

Jensen mentally shrugs it off, decides that this is something he'd rather think about when not presented with Jared sprawled out on the sofa in front of him. The other man is watching him cautiously, waiting for his next action.

“I want to suck you,” Jensen says outright, his voice rough from arousal. “May I?”

Jared looks at him in wonder. “You don't need to feel obligated, you know.”

“I don't feel obligated. I just want to suck your cock,” Jensen smiles, leaning forward to kneel between Jared's spread legs.

“Then don't feel obligated to ask,” Jared grins back.

After one last look at him, Jensen focuses on the task at hand, namely, the question as to how he should get that huge cock inside his mouth.

“You're thinking too much already,” Jared chuckles, then curls his hand in Jensen's hair and runs it through the strands lightly. “It's not that hard-”

“Well, it kind of is-” Jensen objects in a playful tone and a nod to the member in front of him.

And Jared obviously can't help but laugh, but continues, “Just do what you know feels good to you. You'll notice pretty soon if I like that too, or not.”

“Okay, then,” Jensen says and swallows, remembers to wet his lips and cover his teeth before he takes Jared into his mouth.

Sucking cock is definitely something to get used to. Jensen finds that the tip nudges against the back of his throat pretty quickly, and even considering Jared's size, there’s not a lot he can actually get in. The taste is musky, the skin velvety against his tongue, and Jensen can hardly say he isn't very okay with it. Hearing Jared moan above him, little shivers running through his body, making his hips jerk ever so slightly, that's pretty encouraging – to know that he has that kind of power over Jared.

Jensen tries wrapping his hand around the part of the shaft that he doesn't reach with his mouth, simultaneously curling his tongue around the head of Jared's dick, circling it. It's a move he's always enjoyed when used by the girl he was dating before Joanna, and judging by Jared's suddenly sharp intake of breath, it has the same effect on him.

It's easy to find a rhythm, bopping up and down on Jared's cock with his hand holding it in place. Jensen alters playful strokes of his tongue across the head with sucking Jared's length down hard, grins to himself when he makes Jared groan again, loud slurps and hurting cheeks notwithstanding. Although it's far from perfect and sloppy and he has to pull off a few times, licking up the saliva running down Jared's gorgeous cock, Jared doesn't particularly seem to mind.

No, he holds Jensen with one hand that's idly carding through his hair or gently caressing his neck, clearly appreciative of what Jensen does to him. As if that wasn't clear enough from his frequent groans and how he obviously has to keep his hips in cheek.

Jensen couldn't state that he loved sucking cock on his first try, but he can definitely say that he loves sucking Jared's cock.

And when Jared throws his head against the backrest of the couch and mumbles “Jen, Jen,” insistently while trying to shove him back by his shoulder, Jensen follows his push. And not a second too late, because when Jared's dick slips free from Jensen's lips with an obscene pop, it only takes one last stroke of Jensen's hand to make him come. His long, uncontrolled groan lingers in the room, and the air between them is positively crackling with pent-up energy and lust, smelling of semen. It's not pleasant, but Jensen can think of few things that make him feel better than he does right now.

Simply because Jared is still sprawled out in front of him, his belly, his trained abs covered in come, his hair a mess and the biggest, most blissful smile on his lips.

“Told ya I would return the favor properly,” Jensen grins back, lets his drawl lengthen the vocals.

Instead of answering, Jared leans upward, cups Jensen's cheek in his hand, his thumb running along the seam of Jensen's lips. “Jesus, I was that close to coming in your mouth,” Jared admits with a moan. “But no surprise there. I mean, Jesus, your fucking lips...”

Jensen kisses the thumb resting on his bottom lip, still grinning.

“I need a shower,” Jared states flatly.

“Guess you do,” Jensen replies with a grin, reaching out and drawing his finger through the mess on Jared's stomach.

“Wanna join me?” Jared asks right then, and his gaze lingers hungrily when he notices the erection tenting Jensen's jeans. “I think I can do a thing or two about that, too.”

***

A few days later, it still feels a bit unreal.

Jensen sucked cock and, surprisingly, life went on.

“Feel any more gay now?” Jared asked him jokingly in the shower, right before he wrapped his hand around Jensen's dick and started to jerk him off.

“Nah,” Jensen answered and kissed him, hard and demanding as the warm water ran down their bodies.

Jared gave an extra-hard tug at his cock, making Jensen groan into his mouth. “But you gotta admit that what we're doing is pretty gay.”

“I don't care,” Jensen said against Jared's lips, chasing them. “Feels good, that's all that counts.”

“If you say so,” Jared kissed him again, then let go of his cock in favor of running his hand around Jensen's hip, dipping his index finger into the crack of his ass.

Jensen gasped from the unexpected contact, but before he could protest, Jared interrupted him.

“Then let me show you some other things that feel good. Ever had a girl stuck her finger up your ass while blowing you?” His voice was a low rumble against the shell of Jensen's ear, and he shivered.

“Once, yeah,” Jensen answered, felt how Jared's dick hardened against his where they were pressed together.

“And, was it good?” Jared asked, his finger languidly circling Jensen's hole, his touch maddeningly intense.

Jensen grimaced. “More uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Jared moaned around a wide grin. “There's so much I gotta show you.”

With that, he dropped to his knees, trailed his finger back around Jensen and sucked him straight down. And well, Jensen wasn't opposed to the idea, so he spread his legs to ease the way for Jared's hand, took a deep breath when Jared's finger breached him slowly, only water easing the way.

“I know it takes a bit to get used to,” Jared pulled off, looking up at Jensen, and gently curved his finger forward to rub it against Jensen's prostate.

Slowly but surely, the pleasure of the stimulation overrode the uneasy feeling and Jensen relaxed into it. And by the time Jared had his cock in his mouth again, he was reduced to a panting mess, hands scrambling for purchase against the wet tiles of the shower wall as every stroke of Jared's finger sent more pleasure through him.

When he knew he couldn't last any longer, Jensen tried to shove Jared off by his shoulder, warning him. The other man just winked at him and slightly shook his head, then sucked him back down extra hard. He let Jensen come down his throat, but didn't swallow and instead spit it into the drain. Seeing his own jizz drip down Jared's lips in dirty white drops was hotter than Jensen ever thought it would be. Jared gently eased his finger out of Jensen's body, and got up to kiss him, open-mouthed and with a lot of tongue, letting Jensen taste himself.

The memory still makes Jensen hard, days later, when he's at work. Heading for Sam's office, he meets Jared in the hallway.

He's gonna wipe that smug smile off his face tonight, Jensen decides, and shoots Jared a mischievous wink.

However, he doesn't have time to dwell on the thought.

“They're suing,” Sam says by way of greeting, waving a letter at Jensen as he steps into her office.

Jensen just sighs. “Of course they are.”

He skips over the letter of the bench quickly, and takes in the familiar charge.

Sam just looks at him in anticipation.

“I'm going to write a statement. First of all, the value in dispute needs to be set, namely our profits. We can't get around acknowledging the fact that we indeed phrased the contract wrong. I suggest we make one last attempt at mediation, offer them 50 % of the profit we made from the book, and a smaller percentage from future sales.”

Sam whistles. “That's still a lot.”

“It's more than the compensation we offered at first. If money really is all they want out of this, we might get through without this case going to court in the end. And if this goes to court, I'm sure we'll lose a lot more money. I'll let Jared crunch the numbers on this. I know it's a lot, but I think we can afford it.”

“I hope you're right,” she sighs.

“I'll talk to Jared,” Jensen says.

“You do that, and then we'll decide how we approach the lawsuit. How long do we have to answer?”

“Four weeks.”

***

“And you're sure that is an option? I mean, what if they really take us up on this offer?” Jared frowns at his monitor, talking to Jensen while he works on his sheet.

“Then the court case is done.”

“And we are on the verge of bankruptcy,” Jared huffs.

“Yeah, on the verge of it and not actually bankrupt. Considering our situation, that's something.”

Jared looks up at him, and Jensen leans against the desk beside him, with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“This is not a good idea.”

“Do you have a better one?” Jensen deadpans.

“Not really, no,” Jared grumbles, and then adds on the exhale, “But when have my ideas ever turned out good.”

“Jared,” Jensen sighs, lets his head drop back as he rolls his eyes.

“What?” Jared snaps.

“I know you feel guilty, but you couldn't've known and it's okay. That's the way it is right now, and we're gonna work through this.”

Jared cups his head in both hands, rubs them over his eyes and through his hair. “You say that like it's that easy. There's a company and thirty jobs here that might get destroyed if Green succeeds. And it's my fault.”

It's Jensen turn to frown. “Trust me, I'm gonna fix this. It's my job, too, after all. And I did not move here just to see this company going down.”

“You said we're out of options already,” Jared objects, flopping back into his chair.

“Well, then I need to find new ones. First, there's the mediation. And second, I've worked court cases for the last six years. Judged by the value in litigation, this case might actually be discussed in court, not just in transactional law.”

“And?”

Jensen smiles, not without pride. “You should see me in court, Jay.”

Jared raises an eyebrow.

“There's a reason I gave this job up in the first place. It was too time-consuming and I tended to get too invested in my cases. I took my work home, mentally. So, just trust me when I say we're gonna fix this. When will you have the numbers ready?”

“Give me three days,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Jensen nods with a smile, and pushes himself away from the desk. “See you tonight.”

And with that, Jensen leaves Jared's office, stroking his hand across Jared's neck as he goes.

***

“Let's make a deal,” Jared suggests that night, when they're sitting on the couch beside each other, Jared's arm around Jensen's shoulder.

“About?” Jensen prompts, after he moves his feet out from under Harley because they're starting to fall asleep.

“You know how we don't talk about the sexual part of our relationship? Let's not talk about work, either. At least not about the Green part of it.”

“I think we can do that,” Jensen answers. “But now that you brought it up...” With a smirk, he pulls Jared down into a kiss, chaste and gentle at first, but soon hard and open-mouthed.

Jared falls onto his back, taking Jensen with him, hands already entangled in shirts and fingers working buttons open. It's easy like this, Jensen thinks. Almost too easy and satisfying, and Jensen is really happy with where they are.

***

Sam frowns, biting down on her bottom lip. “I don't like the amount of zeros on that number,” she huffs. “But let's try it.”

“It's more than just a fair deal. If they're really just on the make, they'll take it. If they don't take it, we know that there's something else behind it.”

“Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.”

***

Pride Month is a huge deal, especially in Capitol Hill, and of course Jared is knee-deep in the middle of it.

Come June, their first weekend is already occupied by The Clean Sweep and Gay Day of Service, since Jared is way too convincing when he unleashes the power of his puppy dog eyes on Jensen. “C'mon, it's fun! And it's for Pride Month. I know it's called Gay Day of Service, but it's for allies, too. Plus, there's free food.”

And Jensen said yes. He took that Saturday off from work and helped Jared and hundreds of other strangers clean up the neighborhood for the festivities. Ty was there as well, and Misha even showed up in a skirt and an apron— only a skirt and an apron— and Jared didn't promise too much when he said it would be fun.

A lot of events are held at the community center over the course of the week, and since Jensen is a good ally and an even better friend, he accompanies Jared more often than not. Also, the subjects are truly interesting, especially because Jensen never had a reason to face up to them.

Pride Month also takes a toll on Jensen, for that exact reason.

When Jared manages to get him into a meeting for and with LGBTQ parents one Wednesday evening, he feels suddenly very self-conscious. There are happy moms and dads in pairs each, often with toddlers and younger kids, and it's endearing to see.

“What's up?” Jared asks him when they took a seat.

“Nothing, it's just...” Jensen starts, but shakes his head.

“I thought you wanted kids, too?”

“I do, it's just... I guess I'm a bit jealous, to be honest,” Jensen admits quietly.

Jared sighs. “Yeah, me too.”

Their eyes meet, and they share a short smile. Jensen even goes so far as to gently nudge Jared's knee with his, and Jared reaches over to squeeze his hand.

Jensen freezes at the touch, quickly looks around. There's a lesbian couple sitting right beside them, holding hands and leaning into each other. In the row behind them, a gay couple is too busy playing with an adorable little boy sitting on one of his dads' laps to even notice them.

With sudden, shocking clarity, Jensen realizes what they look like right now, and that it's no big deal at all. These people around them, here, don't care if he's gay or not. They don't care if he and Jared are a couple. They wouldn't care if he kissed Jared right here.

“Hey, Jared,” he says on a whim, and Jared turns his head towards him. Jensen quickly leans up and kisses Jared squarely on the lips.

Jared looks dumbfounded and completely taken by surprise when Jensen retreats. “What was that for?”

Jensen shrugs. “Felt like a good time to do that.”

***

When they return home that evening, Jensen is a lot more relaxed. The meeting was elating in a lot of different ways, but mostly due to the realization that if this whatever he has with Jared should turn out to be more, there's still options to have a family.

The thought is a bit scary, but Jensen can't help it. It's always been one of his goals in life, if not the most important goal.

They don't talk about it. Most evenings, they meet after work, and at some point of the evening, Jensen ends up with Jared's dick in his mouth or with Jared's hand around his own, and he can't really say he doesn't like it. In fact, he feels a lot better since their friends-with-benefits thing started. When Jensen stays overnight, especially during the weekend, he tends to sleep in Jared's bed, each of them on their own side. Still, when he wakes up, he has Jared's arm around his waist more often than not, and there's hardly anything better than being woken up on a Sunday morning with a blowjob.

They walk the dogs, visit the library for events, go to the community center for meetings – they do everything friends do and it's really comfortable. It's almost like dating, except that Jensen still can't use the term and Jared doesn't ask or push.

They’re in this weird kind of relationship limbo, and Jensen is fine with it, since giving up this comfortable limbo would mean facing up to the fact that he's dated women all his life and now there's a man. A man who's his best friend, but also the only one he has sex with at the moment. Admitting to dating a man would make him gay, which he is very decidedly not.

“Are you alright?” Jared asks when he hangs up his jacket on the coat rack. His brows furrowed as he looks over his shoulder.

“Yeah, just... thinking a lot,” Jensen answers quietly.

“Hey,” Jared sighs, then steps towards him and places one hand on Jensen's waist to rub it gently up and down. “I'm sorry if it's all a bit too much at the moment. If I get to pushy or anything, tell me. It's just that I really like spending time with you, and this month is really important for the community, and I'd like you to see that.”

“Yeah, I do, that's... that's really not the problem. I like being there, and especially today, that was very helpful,” Jensen nods. He can't bring himself to look into Jared's eyes.

Jared seems to get what's bothering him, though, and he doesn't ask further. Instead, he wraps Jensen up in a bear hug, squeezes him tight, and runs his hands over Jensen's back.

The kiss that follows is languid and slow, and Jensen chases every move of Jared's lips, follows the tip of his tongue as he's licking at his bottom lip. He doesn't realize when they cross the line to downright dirty French kissing, but he becomes aware of how hard he is when Jared grabs his ass with both hands and shoves their cocks together. Moaning desperately, he pushes back, wanting more friction, wanting Jared's hand there, just wanting more.

Jared simply reaches lower, bends his knees, and lifts Jensen up by his thighs. Instinctively, Jensen wraps his legs around Jared's waist, but gasps in surprise.

“Jesus,” he manages breathlessly, and his heart picks up the pace at the sudden display of Jared's strength, which is hotter than he ever thought.

“Watch your head,” Jared chuckles, with a nod towards the door frame a few steps ahead, and carries him to the couch.

Jensen is pretty much ready to burst from desire by the time Jared straightens up to his full height. Without further ado, he reaches for Jared's belt buckle, unbuttons and unzips his jeans,, and yanks the piece of clothing down. Jared has already pulled his shirt over his head and is tugging at Jensen's, but he's having none of it. Grabbing Jared's hands, Jensen guides them to his boxer briefs, motioning for him to get them off.

Said boxer briefs aren't even fully off by the time Jensen has his hand around Jared's dick. Jared steps out of them quickly, standing in front of Jensen in all his naked glory, and that's just about everything Jensen needs right now. He shifts to the edge of the couch, leans forward to take Jared into his mouth, and sucks him the way he knows Jared loves. He's gotten better at it over time, and enjoys Jared like this - pleading and begging under his hands.

Today, though, is the first time that Jared pulls him off long before he's on the verge of his orgasm.

“Jen,” he pants, “I don't wanna come like this, not today.”

“Then how do you want to?” Jensen challenges him, as he rests his cheek on Jared's hip bone and licking over the crude pubic hair at the base of his cock.

“Well, I don't wanna... I mean, if you don't want to, that's totally fine, just say so and it's done,” Jared begins, and looks in anticipation at Jensen until he nods. Then he leans down, and it's just a stage whisper, there's no one here but them, but it's still maddeningly hot when Jared whispers into his ear. “I'd really like to come with your dick in my ass.”

The groan that leaves his lips is involuntary, but it's also the most honest response Jensen could give at this point. “I'm... yeah, I guess we can do that,” he stutters out, feeling like a 16-year-old virgin all over again.

“Did you ever—?” Jared asks as he pulls at Jensen's t-shirt, helping him strip out of it.

“Yeah, I did, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience,” Jensen admits with a shrug. “She was in a lot of pain and I felt like an asshole for suggesting it.”

“Don't worry, that gets better with experience,” Jared winks, hands now working at Jensen's jeans.

He barely squeezes once, over his briefs and along the hard line of Jensen's cock, before he turns around. “C'mon, off with 'em, I'm gonna get the supplies.”

Jensen is, admittedly, quite speechless when Jared wanders off, with his muscled back and naked ass on display, and his hips swinging gently from side to side.

He is going to fuck Jared.

And he could care less if that makes him gay or anything, because he'll be fucking a gorgeous guy like Jared and, right now, that is the hottest thing he can think of. Jensen gets to his feet, strips completely naked, and throws their clothing on the recliner.

Jared is quickly back, with a condom, lube and tissues in his one hand, and he pushes Jensen into a sitting position on the couch with the other. He places both knees on either side of Jensen's hips and settles in his lap, effectively surprising him.

“Like this?” Jensen asks in disbelief.

“Exactly like this,” Jared smiles and spreads some lube on his fingers.

Jensen is honestly two seconds away from coming from the visual alone: Jared, spread out on his lap, fingering himself open for Jensen. Although he doesn't see where Jared's fingers slip into his body, it's enough to send his mind reeling.

“Fuck,” he moans, presses his eyes shut to calm down.

“Hey,” Jared says, cupping his cheek with his spare hand, kisses Jensen until he opens his eyes again. “If I'm taking care of myself, you're taking care of this,” he adds with a grin, then grabs the condom and hands it to Jensen.

Jensen opens the package with shaky hands, takes a second to figure out which side is up, and rolls it on quickly.

“You good?” Jared asks when he's done.

“Yeah, just... god, please,” Jensen moans, looking up at Jared pleadingly. “Need you.”

Jared's eyes soften as he leans in to place a passionate kiss on his lips. “Need you, too,” he whispers, although Jensen doesn't think that it's intended to be a whisper.

Then Jared lets his hand slip free and uses the excess lube to slather Jensen's dick. He shifts forward and lines himself up. The tip nudges at his slick entrance, and Jensen feels his heart pump impossibly fast and hard.

He almost can't believe that this is happening, can't believe he's doing this. But when he looks up at Jared once again and sees his beautiful lips slack from pleasure and lust, he knows that there's nothing wrong with it. Every fiber of him, every part of him just wants, wants to feel Jared all around him.

They both moan loudly at the same time when the head of Jensen's cock breaches the inner rim, and tight walls close around him. Inch by inch, Jared takes him deeper, and Jensen feels like the feeling is amplified each second.

It's like a hot electric buzz makes his senses tingle where Jared touches him, where he's inside of Jared, for fuck's sake. All he can do at this point is hold on to Jared's hips and try not to forget to breathe. He feels like all the air is driven out of him when Jared slides the remaining length in faster, until he rests with his ass flat on Jensen's lap and pants desperately.

“Doesn't it hurt?” Jensen asks on a whim, over the sound of both of them catching their breath.

“Just a bit uncomfortable,” Jared mutters, shaking his head. “That'll change quickly, don't worry. It's just because I haven't done this for a while.”

He starts to move, slowly and with small shakes and shifts more than actual thrusts, but Jensen's already way too close to hitting his orgasm just from Jared rocking himself back and forth in his lap.

“Don't you come yet, Jen,” Jared warns with a teasing nip to his lips. “My turn first.”

Okay, maybe Jensen has a bit of a thing for Jared taking control. So he closes his eyes and concentrates, yet again, on calming down, and he feels how Jared's hand moves down to stroke his own cock.

“I'm good,” Jensen finally says, and Jared picks up the pace, this time really sliding up and down Jensen's cock, and it's amazing, breathtaking, and perfect. The light sheen of sweat highlights Jared's hard muscles that shift underneath tanned skin, and Jensen lets his hands travel all over Jared’s body, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

He tries to meet Jared's thrusts as best he can while steadying the other man with both hands on his hips. Soon, Jensen watches in awe as Jared's face twists into a grimace, and a beautiful, uncontrolled moan leaves his throat. Jared comes all over Jensen's stomach in hot, white spurts. His muscles clench and unclench around Jensen's dick, and it's too much, with Jared and his stupid sexy body and how he stimulates him in all the right ways.

So when Jared leans in and groans, “Now you are allowed to come,” into his ear, Jensen is gone within seconds. It's one of the most intense orgasms he's ever had, and it leaves him with wobbly knees and an awesome kind of twisted feeling in his guts.

After they regained their breath somewhat, Jared pulls off and leaves Jensen to deal with the condom.

“Did it fit?” Jared asks as an afterthought.

“Yeah, it did,” Jensen answers absent-mindedly as he inspects it, but it didn't break.

“Good. I simply took one of the regular sized ones and wasn't sure if it was—just, okay. Never mind. That's awesome.”

“So there's more where that came from?” Jensen grins.

“Obviously,” Jared grins back.

“Good. I think we can put them to good use.”

“So... you liked it?”

“Dude, how could I not like it,” Jensen laughs, as he stands up to kiss Jared gently. “You are one kinky son of a bitch, by the way.”

“You love it,” Jared grins.

“That I do.”

***

They end up in each other's beds three days in a row, and the fourth time Jensen buries himself balls-deep in Jared's ass, Jared groans uneasily.

“Did I hurt you?” Jensen asks immediately, preparing to pull back out gently.

“No, it's not that,” Jared chuckles, then laughs, “Actually, I'm sore.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Jensen grins, kisses him softly, and starts to move slowly. It's true, he wasn't too careful yesterday. They had been in a hurry, since they should've already been on their way to Capitol Hill. But they had both been horny ever since Jared had managed to massage Jensen's dick through his thin suit pants when they were on lunch break, up on the roof and alone. It had been a hustle to get each other's clothes off and to get to the bedroom without bumping into any furniture, and they skipped the prep part completely. Jared had been fine throughout all of it. Hell, he'd been the one riding Jensen into next Sunday.

“I haven't been sore in... forever,” Jared grins. “I'm not usually the one who bottoms. It's something I only do when I feel like it.”

Jensen nips at his lips, moves his mouth down his jaw and neck, enjoys the way Jared arches up into him. “Or when it's me?” he teases.

“Or when it's you,” Jared sighs when Jensen apparently manages to hit his prostate. “We could always switch, you know. One day, let me tell you, I wanna show you what this feels like.”

To cover his slight shock at Jared's words, Jensen groans and thrusts into him once again. “Nah, don't think so.”

Jared's hands run down his back, cup his ass cheeks firmly, guiding his moves. “You're missing out, Jen. C'mere.”

Jensen follows when Jared motions for him to lean down, and Jared leans his head against Jensen's when he whispers into his ear, “Should I tell you what this feels like? Being so full, having your prostate stimulated with every thrust? Being touched so deeply by someone you trust, being at his mercy? It's pretty damn awesome. And I know how great topping is, trust me. The only reason why I prefer to top is because I like having power over someone else, make them come helplessly with my dick up his ass.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jensen grins, and keeps up the rhythm that Jared's hands have created by yanking Jensen forward.. And that's just typical for Jared - not even wanting to be the more passive partner when he's fucked missionary style and pinned down by Jensen's hands.

“One day, Jen,” Jared moans, and lets his hands drop back. “One day you'll beg for my cock.”

Jensen swallows, wills down the wave of arousal Jared's words stir up within him. “We'll see.”

“Yeah. Now c'mon. I'm already sore, so fuck it. Fuck me,” Jared's breath is hot on Jensen's cheek, and it's pretty much the hottest sentence he's ever heard out of his friend.

Jensen smirks. “What was that?”

“I said fuck me,” Jared moans, voice raw and low, “Fuck me so long and so hard that I can't sit tomorrow.”

He doesn't need to say it a third time.

***

“What's the plan for Sunday?” Jensen asks one morning towards the end of June, after he let the dogs out into the yard.

“Dude. Pride parade,” Jared deadpans, spatula in hand as he's making pancakes. “You know where to find me.”

“Hm,” Jensen answers absentmindedly. Jared has a drop of pancake batter on his cheek, and he quickly swipes it off with his index finger and licks it clean.

For a few moments, Jared looks at him, completely speechless.

“What?”

“Nothing, just... gimme a second,” Jared says, flips the pancake in the frying pan, then turns to Jensen. He backs Jensen against the kitchen counter, and grabs his thighs just in time to heave him up onto the surface. He's only in his boxers, just like Jensen, because it's Saturday and they have the day off, so they only just got out of bed.

“You are fucking adorable,” Jared adds with a smirk, eyes traveling over Jensen's disheveled state. He kisses Jensen, quick and affectionately.

“'m not adorable,” Jensen grumbles against his lips.

“Don't even try to deny it.”

More kisses muffle Jensen's protests, until Jared leans back and looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Dude, the pancakes,” Jensen says reluctantly.

“Oh, right, almost forgot.”

Jared turns back around, flips the pancake once more and decides that it's ready to put it on the stack he's building on a nearby plate. Sadie trots into the kitchen and heads immediately for her and Harley's bowl of water, slurping some up and spilling the other half in a radius of a two feet around the bowl. Then she flops down on her side onto the doggie bed in the corner, snuggling into Harley, who's already there, sleeping.

However voluntary or involuntary the thought is, when Jensen looks back at Jared, to find him whistling as he pours enough batter for the next pancake into the pan, he sees something else entirely.

There's still Jared and him and the dogs, but there's a baby in his arms, sleeping with his or her tiny face mashed into Jensen's chest. There's a toddler, too, stumbling in from the hallway to smack into Jared's leg and wrap his little arms around it, asking when the pancakes are ready.

The sun is shining through the window as Jensen blinks a few times and finds himself back in reality. The realization of what his vivid daydream suggests hits him hard, and leaves him with warmth and affection for Jared, as well as a churning feeling of confusion in his chest. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

Jesus, yes, it would fit so well, and yet...

“You could always come with me, you know,” Jared says, oblivious to how spaced-out Jensen is.

“I don't think I’d fit in, sorry,” Jensen shakes his head, “Unless they have a '30-plus and still confused' group in the Pride parade, that's not for me.”

“You could walk with the allies. Or, hell, I could get you a wig from somewhere and we put you in a pretty sparkly dress and you can walk with the drag queens. Bet you'd look really good with cherry red lip stick,” Jared muses aloud, obviously teasing him.

Jensen hops down from the counter, grabs Jared firmly around the waist and kisses him, then grins. “Bet you'd look really pretty in lip stick and a dress, too, and hey—we wouldn't even need a wig.”

“Oh fuck you, Ackles,” Jared tries to look offended, but fails miserably with his way too adorable pout.

“You wish, big guy.”

“Don't make me turn off the stove,” Jared warns, pulling Jensen into a hard kiss while pushing their hips together, and their cocks harden against each other's.

“Nah. I'd starve, I'm hungry as hell.”

“Good,” Jared smiles, then adds, “You know, I get that it's not easy for you at the moment, and there's no non-selfish way to put this, but... it'd mean a lot to me if you would be there tomorrow, any way you wish.”

“Is there a group of the Capitol Hill guys?”

“Yes, there is. It's actually where I'll be, too, and there's other allies as well.”

Jared leaves it at that, and Jensen doesn't ask anything further until the pancakes are done and they're sitting out on the porch, with two cups of coffee and a bottle of syrup between them.

“So what does one wear at a pride parade? Because I don't have anything in rainbow colors or anything sparkly.”

Jared studies him for a second. “Anything you like. We usually have t-shirts that we give out to the participants.”

“Okay, then.”

It's not the big deal it had seemed to be at first, but Jared looks at him, even stops eating for a few moments, and breaks into a huge, toothy grin. Jared opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again and swallows the piece of pancake he was chewing.

The blowjob Jensen gets later that day says it all, though.

***

“They rejected the offer,” Sam says on a hot day in early July, after Jensen stepped into her office. She sighs.

Jensen sighs, too, and takes a seat. “Like we thought they would.”

Sam just leans back in her chair and watches him in anticipation.

“Dragging this to court come hell or high water is saying a lot, though. It's a lot of paperwork and a lot of effort to do this, so if they were just interested in the money, they would've taken the offer. They wouldn't have been happy about it, since it's an affront that we so successfully sold a book they had the rights to when they couldn't.”

“So you think that's their motive?”

“Come to think of it, it makes sense, right? Ruining us, the small publisher, for ruining their reputation.”

Sam shakes her head. “There's no way we can prove it, and to just imply that without evidence is defamation.”

“But it's a start,” Jensen objects. “How much time do we have until the hearing? I assume there's gonna be a hearing.”

“It's gonna be on September 27th.”

“Alright. I think that gives me enough time to do some research.”

“On?”

“Preparing a defensive speech like you wouldn't believe,” Jensen grins.

“Well, for someone who said they didn't like their former job because of all the litigation work and preparation and taking care of court cases, you seem pretty enthusiastic about this,” Sam grins right back. “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”

“You know, at this point, it's a matter of honor for me, too,” Jensen explains. “Although, I’ve gotta ask something from you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Since there won't be much happening during August, Jared and I would like to take two weeks off, if you're okay with that. I promise that it won't affect the preparation of this case.”

“Jensen, that's completely fine. I trust you on this. You need some time off some time, too, so go ahead. Recharge your batteries,” Sam says, a lot softer than before. “Do you and Jared have plans, if I may ask?”

“Not really, no. This year has been busy enough for me, with the move and all, so I'm glad to stay a few days at home,” Jensen explains.

Sam looks at him cryptically, and smiles.

***

The work days get longer for Jensen, since the Green case takes up pretty much all of his time.

Mike still hasn't found the contract.

“I'm sorry. It doesn't seem to be in any of the boxes. I'm currently looking through all of the stuff I've got here again, but it's not there,” he told Jensen on the phone two days ago, and Jensen has honestly come to peace with the fact that he'll have to make do without Mike's copy of the contract.

When Jensen brings up the case to Misha a few days before Jared's birthday, Misha actually perks up. “Why haven't I heard of this before?”

“I don't know, I guess we never came to talk about it,” Jensen shrugs.

“Okay,” Misha nods. “You would've worked on the case this afternoon anyway, right?”

“Yes?”

“Good. You, me, coffee, now. We need to talk,” Misha states firmly, grabs Jensen's wrist, and pulls him towards the elevator.

Five minutes later, they're sitting in Ty's coffee shop, each with a cup of fair trade organic Sumatran roast in front of them. “Seriously?” Jensen asks when Misha reaches for the soy milk.

“Yes, seriously,” Misha deadpans. “Now. Does the name Kripke publishing ring any bells?”

Jensen takes a sip from his coffee, surprised to find that he likes its taste a lot. “Hey, that's actually pretty good,” he comments. “And no, to answer your question. Should it?”

Misha sighs. “Probably not. But here's the story. I've worked in publishing pretty much all my life. I've lived in Seattle for a long while, long before Sam and Sera opened their publishing firm here. And I had worked for Kripke for years before I started here.”

“So, who is this Kripke?”

“At the moment? Just a regular freelance editor who works for us. His publishing business had to file for bankruptcy—after Green sued him for too much money for a completely ridiculous lawsuit. Sound familiar?”

“What are you implying?” Jensen asks, raising both eyebrows.

“Well, as you might have noticed, Green doesn't have the best PR, and Editorial and Production management. They're relying on their reputation to sell their books, and are too stingy to hire a good ad agency. It's what their president's policy has been for years; I've got some... acquaintances working there. They don't get good staff for the departments that matter.”

“Okay,” Jensen nods, frowning. “So you think they wipe off smaller publishers to get to their personnel?”

“Maybe. I think part of it is just a blatant money-grab, and revenge for being out-smarted by a small business that hasn’t got the resources they have, but manages to make a well-sold book out of one of their leftovers. But yeah, I think there's a system. This all sounds so fishy. Wwho would let a contract run for another 10 years if there's no termination? I know they legally can do that, but it's so uncommon that this stinks to high heaven.”

“But it looks like they actually made that agreement.”

Misha huffs. “Honestly, I don't believe it.”

“We can't prove anything, so what are we going to do?”

“Find more former clients of Green, more former small publishers going bankrupt because of them. I always wondered why small presses never get bigger around here. Either Green keeps them small or they sue them until they're done for. With Kripke, we couldn't find anything against them because we didn't have any evidence. It's been almost seven years, and I hardly even remember what the lawsuit was about; I do, however, know that it was just as ridiculous as this one. So if you can find anything against Green, you might do the world a great favor.”

Jensen chuckles sarcastically. “I can do that, after I save our own ass. That's huge, you know that, right? That's something for a law firm, not for me, general in-house counsel for a small publisher.”

“Don't sell yourself short. I looked a bit into the kind of cases you did before you started here, and you and I both know there have been cases way more hopeless than this one. You've got , charm and self-confidence and charisma, so if anyone can do this, it's you.” Misha smiles at him, honest and wide, then reaches over the table to clap his hand on Jensen's shoulder encouragingly.

“Wow, um... thank you, Mish,” Jensen replies, otherwise speechless.

“Now, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

Misha doesn't answer and instead waves Ty over to their table. It's a rather slow afternoon, and Ty hands them a plate full of rainbow-sprinkled cookies when he sits down beside them. “Hey guys,” he greets them warmly. “Here, have some Pride cookies.”

“Thanks,” Misha mumbles, already reaching for a first cookie. “So, what are we getting Jared for his birthday?”

***

The weeks fly by way too quickly; Jared's birthday comes and goes, and the few meetings with Kripke brings forward less information than Jensen had hoped for. At least Kripke can name a few other companies in similar situations. While he's at peace with not running a publishing company any more, Kripke is helpful in getting background information on Green.

But solid evidence is still nowhere to be seen by the time Jared and Jensen go on holiday for two weeks.

It's quiet and enjoyable, and they spend most of their time at Jared's house, with the dogs, with the TV, with Jared's Xbox, and with sex. A lot of sex. Jensen brought a suitcase filled with clothes over when it became clear he wouldn't sleep much at his apartment.

Jensen tried to take Jared golfing, but they quickly found out that this wasn't Jared's cup of tea. Jensen couldn’t explain to Jared how golf was relaxing when most of the time he was shouting either at the ball or at the golf club. Jared didn't even manage to hit the ball. After three drives, Jared had wordlessly given back the golf club and declared himself a hopeless case.

That night, Jensen made up for it with a slow, lazy fuck, until Jared was so gone that he didn't even mind the wasted day. And Jensen got to sleep with his head on Jared's shoulder.

All in all, it's pretty much perfect, until somewhere during their second week off. They've just had very satisfying morning sex—really, Jensen could get used to this frequency: he hasn't been this sexually satisfied in months before Jared happened—when Jared starts the very last discussion Jensen wants to have during post-coital, naked cuddling.

“Hey, Jen,” he says softly, as the fingers of his right hair play with Jensen's short strands of hair, “can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Jensen hums lazily in reply.

Jared takes a deep breath, which is about all the warning Jensen gets that something uncomfortable might come up.

“How exactly would you identify now? Straight, gay, bi, whatever? I mean, after those couple months and all. I'm just curious. You don't need to answer if you don't want to.”

Raising his head so he can rest his chin right on Jared's left chest muscle, Jensen ponders. “I haven't really thought about it, to be honest.” Which is, he's aware, the lamest excuse he could've come up with, but it also isn't technically a lie.

“But... you're questioning if you're straight, right?”

That one has long since flown out of the window, Jensen thinks and huffs. “Is it enough to say that I'm questioning it?” he asks back carefully.

Jared smiles gently. “Of course. You know, it's a big step, accepting who you are and—”

“What exactly are you implying?” Jensen asks, and presses his lips into a tight line. He feels that old, familiar anger well up in his chest, even though part of him knows that Jared shouldn’t be his target. But the thoughts have been there for a while were only pushed closer and closer to the surface with time.

“Nothing, I'm implying exactly nothing. That's something you have to find out for yourself.”

“And yet, you think you can decide it for me,” Jensen comments, and the wave of anger surprises him with its intensity. He rises up to lean on his elbow.

“I'm not—Jensen, I'm not deciding anything for you.”

Maybe they've spent a bit too much time with each other over the past weeks. They haven't fought in all the months they've known each other, but Jensen feels too troubled and upset to discuss this calmly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but that sounded a whole lot like, 'Heh, you're gay, you just don't know it yet' and if you think that, you can fuck right off,” Jensen spits. He sits up completely and looks down at Jared, still sprawled out on the bed with the duvet up to his hips.

Jared's mouth snaps shut in a split second and his eyes turn cold. The warm spark and the relaxing glow of post-sex cuddling are gone. “What the hell is your problem? What's so horrible about being gay?” His voice is deep, boiling with suppressed anger, too.

“Nothing!” Jensen gestures widely as his voice booms through the room. “Exactly nothing. It's just that I'm not gay, is all.”

“But you're not straight either!” Jared objects, still obviously trying to sound calm, when the way he's fisting his hand into the sheets, and the way every muscle around his mouth and brows has tensed, tells Jensen otherwise.

“Yeah, so what? You know, nobody needs boxes anyway. Boxes are stupid and I don't need them, I can be what I want. And, you know, until right now, I had thought we were happy with how things are.”

Jared's face twists in disbelief again. “Seriously? What is your problem? I just asked, quiet and simple, what you're identifying as. If you would've said that you don't want to put yourself into one box, why didn't you just say so?”

“Because you were the one who immediately stuffed me into one!” Jensen yells back, this time leaping up from the mattress. A hot rage roared up inside him, accompanied by images of old shame.

“I didn't—look I didn't mean it like that,” Jared tries to calm him down. He sits up, too, and scoots over to Jensen's side of the bed, watching patiently.

Jensen can see his efforts, but he's barely able to hear him over the rush of adrenaline that his fury sends through him. His blood is pounding in his ears, and he's aware that he's panting and balling his hands to fists.

Trying to reach out to him, Jared lifts his hand to one of Jensen's fists, but Jensen quickly pulls it out of his grip. “Don't touch me,” he growls with venom.

“Jesus, touchy,” Jared's eyes are wide now as he looks up at Jensen. “Is there something I missed? Something I should know?”

Jensen presses his eyes shut, wills the images to go away, but they don't obey. There is something Jared should know, but he's way too angry right now to form one coherent sentence.

Instead of an answer, Jensen quickly grabs the next pair of boxers on the floor and steps into them. “You have a punch bag in the basement, right?”

“Uhm, yeah?”.

“Let's go there before I say something I'll regret later.” It's not Jared he wants to hurt, after all.

With that, Jensen turns around and heads for the door. He takes the steps downstairs two at a time, and it takes Jared a few moments to catch up with him.

The punch bag is waiting for him, hanging idle from the ceiling, when Jensen opens the door to Jared's workout room. He quickly bandages his hands and slips into Jared's slightly too big boxing gloves, and finally he's able to punch his right fist into the bag as hard as he can.

Jared quickly rounds him and the bag, just to come to a halt behind it, holding it for Jensen. “C'mon, gimme your best,” he says.

Jensen doesn't need to be told twice, and he buries his fists relentlessly into the hard sand; he almost enjoys the cracking of his fingers and joints under the impact, and the burn in his knuckles. God, he's angry. Stupid—

“Stupid fucking jerk,” he grinds out, hitting the bag yet again with a well-placed uppercut, and Jared has to duck behind it in order to not get Jensen's gloved fist into his shoulder.

“Yeah, that was a nice Shoryuken,” Jared perks up from behind the punch bag. “But where's your Hadoken?”

“Fuck you,” Jensen spits again and starts a series of left and right punches that leave him breathless.

“Again, c'mon,” Jared spurs him on.

Jensen kicks his bare foot against the leather, the slap loud in his ears over his panting, and he's sure that this one will hurt like a bitch tomorrow morning.

“Guh!” he yells out loud and slams his fist one last time into the bag.

And, that's it.

He hasn't got any energy left. All the anger and rage oozes out of him, and makes him slump down on the bench press. The gloves are suddenly way too heavy on his hands. He peels them off, lets them hit the floor with a dull thump.

Jared comes over, sits down beside him, and only now does Jensen notice that he's also panting hard. “Must've been one son of a bitch to deserve all these punches,” he says with a tight-lipped smile.

Jensen takes a deep breath, still in the process of calming down. At his side, Jared waits patiently.

“Well, you just met Tommy Barnes from my old high school. And believe me when I say, he deserved worse than that,” Jensen finds himself answering, and suddenly the words just flow. “He was a grade-A douchebag. From the moment he saw me as a freshman, he decided I had to be gay because I looked like a girl. Which, you know, made sense in the parallel universe he and his friends were living in. Point is, they made my high school life hell. Complete with spray-painting my locker pink, stuffing pink cotton candy into my bag, calling me a faggot each time they saw me. The school, even though my mom practically tore the headmaster a new one, couldn't or wouldn't do shit. So yeah, there you've got my explanation.”

Jared looks at him with wide, sympathetic eyes, his lips opening and closing without finding the right words to say. “I'm sorry,” is what he ends up with, almost too quiet to hear, and he wraps Jensen up in his strong, muscular arms without hesitating. “I'm sorry for... I didn't mean to pressure you or anything. I know how it can be. And I'm sorry if I wanted to make you fit into a box you don't want to be fitted into.”

“Just... give me some time, okay? I'll figure it out,” Jensen answers wearily with his face buried in the crook of Jared's neck. “Not that I wouldn't be fine with the no-boxes concept, but I'm... that only works for so long. Truth be told, I'm one of those guys who need to know where they are. In life, you know. I need stability and something to build on. All of this has been throwing me for a loop, pretty much all this time. I don't even know what to think any more.”

“Hey,” Jared pulls back to look into Jensen's eyes, fixing him with an earnest stare. “Hey. We can stop that... this, whatever we're doing, anytime, if it helps you.”

It takes only a few seconds for Jensen to make his decision about that. “No, I don't want this to stop.”

“Good,” Jared breathes out, obviously deeply relieved, “I wouldn't want that, either. No matter what you figure out about yourself.”

In silent gratefulness, Jensen bumps his forehead against Jared's and closes his eyes. They sit like this for a long while, just calming down and catching their breath, breathing in each other's air. Jared still smells like come and sex and condoms, which isn't particularly turning Jensen on right now, but there's also the subtle fruity-fresh smell of his shampoo, of his aftershave, and of that bit that's completely and simply Jared. This has all become home for Jensen.

“So, we're good?” Jensen eventually asks. His voice rough and almost gives out at the end.

“Yeah, we're good,” Jared answers, and, without opening his eyes, Jensen can hear the smile in his tone.

This time it's Jensen who leans up to kiss Jared, placing gentle, quick kisses on his full lips. Unable to suppress it, Jensen smiles into the kiss, and meets Jared's already persistent grin as they fall into an easy push and pull of lips with short licks in-between.

It's all over way too soon, but Jensen openly shivers now. He leans back and breaks the kiss.

They're in a chilly basement, wearing only boxers, and it's morning. Plus, the unplanned workout left them sweaty and even more exposed to the chill of the AC.

That's when Jensen notices something else. “Hey, you're wearing my underwear,” he chuckles. “Which is... yeah, kinda nice.”

“It was the only pair still lying around,” Jared counters with a grin. “Since you took mine.”

Quietly, Jensen starts to laugh, and Jared soon joins him.

“C'mon, let's go upstairs. Hot shower together?”

“Sounds perfect,” Jensen sighs and allows Jared to pull him to his feet and lead him up the stairs, all the while holding onto his hand.

And though he didn't plan on spilling his guts to Jared, it sure helped clear a few things up, which is, all in all, not a bad thing.

***

Despite their talk, Jared starts to get quieter, acting completely different than he usually does. Jensen hopes it's just cabin fever that'll pass when they return to work, since they spent practically every minute with each other over the past two weeks.

But, no. A week passes and Jensen still know what's up with Jared. Jared won't answer when Jensen asks, and only retreats more into his shell, a shell Jensen never knew he even had in the first place.

Jensen asks him for a weekend apart, for some time on his own, thinking that it'll help both of them. Jared apparently needs some distance, and Jensen has a plan.

He has to prove something to himself, although he isn't sure how well that will turn out. Jared seems disappointed, but insists that Jensen take some time for himself if he needs it.

That is how Jensen ends up alone in a bar one late, mild August night, feeling a bit lost and missing Jared.

But loneliness isn't why he's here.

***

Her name is Tammi and she has great tits.

That's about all Jensen knows about her.

This, he's sure, is going to help him either get over the whole Jared thing or accept it. He just needs to know if he still can enjoy beautiful women and hetero sex or if Jared has ruined him for anybody else.

Jensen is pretty sure that hasn't happened, as he's looks her up and down in the dim light of her bedroom. Jensen takes a mental note that, while she's doesn’t make the list of the most beautiful women that he's ever slept with, she is still cute, and he likes the gentle curve of her hips. Plus, she makes up for the rest with enthusiasm and charm, and with really damn hot underwear.

The moment she had walked into the bar, Jensen had felt her eyes on him. When he offered to buy her a drink, she had been more than happy to take him up on the offer. Cut to half-hearted making out in the restroom hallway and her hushed “Wanna get out of here?” So, she'd been decent looking, not drunk – not from the one beer he'd bought her, that she didn't even finish, and she didn't smell like booze when he had kissed her – and more than consenting.

But when she looks at him all sweet and seductive, her eyes lack the particular urgency and desire that he's become used to these days.

When her hands wrap around his dick, stroking him a bit awkwardly due to the strange angle, all Jensen can think about is that they are too small, that her fingers are too delicate. That there's another palm which stroked him only days ago with just the right amount of pressure and rhythm, making him desperate and ready to come just from that simple motion.

When she closes her lips around his dick, sucking him down until the head hits the back of her throat, Jensen barely sighs. There's none of those deep, rolling groans dropping from his lips, the ones he thought he would never be able to hold back any more.

Overall, the blowjob isn't bad. She certainly has skill, and if his situation were any different, Jensen would most definitely enjoy it. However, he can't help but wish for floppy brown hair he that could entangle his fingers, as he holds the strands back from falling into a certain someone's eyes and guides said the head down onto him.

Tammi has long, blonde locks, and they're gathered in a ponytail, so there's nowhere for Jensen to place his hands. If he'd lay them on her head, she might probably fear he was about to shove his dick down her throat, make her choke on it, whether she likes it or not. And that is so not what Jensen would do. If she trusted him – which she doesn't, of course, since they just met an hour ago – she'd know that he wouldn't do that and he could put his hands there anyway.

So Jensen gently places one hand on her shoulder, and uses the other arm to cover his eyes.

And when he's unable to see the difference, Jensen feels it even more. Tammi tries to deep-throat him, to impress him, but promptly makes herself choke.

“Hey, hey,” Jensen's eyes fly open as he soothes her softly, stroking his hand over her shoulder, “you don't need to.”

“Sorry,” she says, again with that sweet, seductive smile that lacks the right amount of heat.

When she goes back down on him, and her small fingers wrap around the base of his cock, holding it in place while her tiny, soft body rocks against his, Jensen can't deny it any more.

That's not Jared's hand on his cock, not Jared's mouth wrapped around its head, not Jared's broad shoulders with miles of muscles flexing underneath toned skin. The trademark, self-confident smile and the burning heat in his eyes as they bore into Jensen's are nowhere to be seen.

Tammi might have enthusiasm, but there's no passion in it.

He doesn't love her. He realizes with shocking clarity he doesn't even care if she gets something out of tonight or not.

Who is he kidding, anyway?

“Sorry,” Jensen whispers harshly, and Tammi stops to shoot a confused look at him, pulling her mouth off his cock.

“I can't. I'm sorry, and it's not your fault, but it's better if I... I better go.”

Without answering her repeated questions to explain what's up, Jensen collects his clothing that is scattered all over the floor of the bedroom and slips everything back on.

“I'm sorry,” is all he says, and, “Bye.”

Then he leaves, without looking back, feeling guilty and confused and ready to punch his fist into the next inanimate object.

He can't even bring himself to jerk off at home, too frustrated with the world to even get it up. Instead, he lays in bed and thinks. About women, and about Jared, and about how much he sucks for being an asshole to Tammi.

***

His meeting with Kripke the following Wednesday is as fruitless as the ones before. It's been a few years, and the blonde, balding man had gotten rid of most of his stuff from the publishing company he once owned.

“I couldn't do anything,” is all had been able to tell Jensen when they met first. “They had me by the balls, and I don't even know why exactly that was. Just that they left me no chance, and didn't want to negotiate or discuss anything. They just sued me until it was inevitable that I filed for bankruptcy.”

Jensen hummed in understanding, tapped his pen against his note pad. “Do you know any other publisher who had problems of this sort with Green?”

“Yes, I actually do. There's Jeremy Carver and Ben Edlund. I'm still in touch with them and can give you their numbers. They both lost their companies to Green's lawsuits. Also, there's Thompson and Glass. They're a couple who runs a publishing company together, but they're barely in business these days. They lost their second lawsuit against Green just a few weeks ago.”

Jensen scribbled the information quickly on his pad. “That is actually more than helpful, Eric. Thank you so much.”

Several phone calls with said people and a very enjoyable lunch with Robbie Thompson and his partner Adam Glass later, Jensen still hasn't gotten anywhere. Except that they recognized each other immediately from a LGBTQ meeting at the Capitol Hill community center.

But, as he had said to Robbie earlier, “The plot thickens.”

No one has ever managed to prove that Green manipulated certain contract parts, but all of the people Jensen has talked to so far think the notion is very plausible.

Unfortunately, the law firm that is helping Jensen with this case can't find any new leads either.

At this point, he's pretty sure that Mike’s contract was forged by Green, but without evidence, who could he convince?

***

A week before the hearing, the tension between Jared and Jensen skyrockets, and all because Jensen can't let go of a simple question.

They are in bed, after two delicious rounds of fucking, and Jensen flops down into the sheets beside a once-again post-orgasmic Jared. They're breathless and spent and absolutely satisfied. And it would be perfect if it wasn't for the fact that they've barely spoken over the last couple days. The only thing they did was have sex, a lot.

Jared leans over the edge of the bed to grab the bottle of water he'd placed on the floor, hoping to avoid any questions. It's been like that for days now, and it puts Jensen's patience to a test. Jared still doesn't say what's wrong, he would rather slam Jensen up against the wall, kiss him breathless, and bend over the next horizontal surface for him.

The silence between them grows, and only the sound of both of them catching their breath fills the room.

Jensen falls back into the pillow that's been his ever since he first slept over. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, he thinks aloud and asks quietly, “What the hell are we even doing, man?”

“Don't,” Jared answers just as low. Jensen sees him shaking his head from the corner of his eyes.

“What?”

“Just... don't ask that.”

“Why?”

“Because that is a can of worms I'm sure you don't want to open,” Jared explains simply.

“So you still won’t tell me what's bothering you?”

“Nope.”

“Jared, work is stressful enough at the moment. I don't really want to have to worry about my best friend, too. So would you please just tell me? Is it because of Green?”

“Nah,” Jared shrugs, but Jensen can see the obvious lie and only raises an eyebrow. “Well, okay. Maybe it's because of Green.”

“Didn't I tell you I'll make this right?” Jensen replies sharply. “That you shouldn't feel guilty, especially now that it's pretty much clear that they're manipulating contracts?”

“You did. But you can hardly tell me that we have a good outlook, theories aside.”

Jensen shrugs. “Not at the moment, no, but I'm working at a kick-ass defense speech.”

“I'm sure you are, and I'm sure you're gonna knock it out of the park. But this... this is so huge, Jensen. If it goes wrong, and you know I'm generally an optimist, this will forever be my fault.”

“It's not gonna get that far,” Jensen states firmly. “You'll see.”

Jared huffs, but doesn't answer.

“There's more, though, isn't it?” Jensen asks tentatively, carding his fingers through Jared's hair soothingly.

“Yes,” Jared admits. “But I really don't know if I can talk about it.”

“Is it because of us?”

“Yes.”

“This... whatever we have—”

“Well, that's the point, Jen. What is 'this' to you? Who are we to each other?” Jared challenges him with a firm look, giving Jensen the feeling that some kind of dam just broke.

“Friends with benefits,” Jensen shrugs and looks over to Jared, only to find his friend's face crumble into a grimace. “What?”

Jared looks at the floor and runs his fingers absentmindedly over the sheets. “You don't see it, do you.” It's not a question.

“You gotta give me some hint here, Jared. I have no idea what you're talking about,” Jensen replies. However, the truth is that he feels panic rising up in his chest, fear of what Jared's about to say.

Huffing out a bitter laugh, Jared answers, “I couldn't possibly give you any more hints. I've asked you out on dates, spent practically my whole holiday in bed with you. I've made it pretty clear how much I want to be with you. Jensen, as much as I love sex with you, I don't want to be your fuckbuddy or your bootycall forever. I want a relationship, a partner, someone to start a family with.”

Jared's unabashed honesty leaves him speechless.

“I've wanted more than just sex for quite some time now,” Jared adds with a sidelong glance at Jensen. “So, there it is: the can of worms I was sure you wouldn't want to touch. Take it or leave it.”

Jensen swallows around the lump in his throat. “I'm... I'm sorry, Jay. But I told you, quite a while ago, that I'm not...”

“What? Gay?” Jared sneers, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Yeah, I know. God knows, I know. And how could I possibly assume that that would change overtime. You know, what with you sleeping with me—a man—all the time.”

“That doesn't—”

For the first time, Jared interrupts him angrily. “That doesn't what? Doesn't mean anything because you're 'not that guy'? Because I'll always be your dirty little secret and you can't stand up for who you are?”

“I am who I am!” Jensen firmly argues back, his voice raised as well.

“You are so deep in the closet, Jensen. And I won't follow you back in there; that you can believe,” Jared snarls.

“I'm not—why would I be in the closet?” Jensen stutters helplessly. It's not like he's dating Jared, right?

“Oh, you know, because you're fucking a guy? And you refuse to acknowledge it in any way?”

Jared is pissed now, obviously, but Jensen can't really blame him. His expectations had been unrealistic from the start. “And that makes me gay, just because I'm fucking a guy? I still like girls, too.”

Until I miss your hands and your mouth on me too much.

“Yeah, well, then you're something, but not straight. Personally, I honestly don't care for boxes. All I ever hoped for was that one day you'd see what's happening between us,” Jared yells.

It only riles Jensen up even more and makes him sit up straight on the mattress to frown at the other man. “So, what is it that's happening between us? Apparently, I'm blind and deaf and dumb. So please, feel free to enlighten me,” Jensen shouts back, and though his anger is fading, he can still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Jared slaps his hand over his eyes. “I'm in love with you, you fucking moron,” his voice is soft and almost too quiet for Jensen to hear.

Once again, Jensen finds himself speechless.

“So you know what?” Jared continues and drops his hand heavily onto his thigh. “I hate doing this. I hate pretending I don't care for you as more than a friend. I hate pretending that we're just colleagues who spend a fuck-ton of time with each other, and most of it in bed. I hate it like you wouldn't believe.”

“Okay,” Jensen coughs, but Jared keeps going.

“And I never, ever will pressure you to come out against your will or beliefs or whatever is that's going on in your head right now. I would never do that to anyone.”

“There's a 'but' coming, isn't there?” Jensen asks quickly.

Without looking at him, Jared answers the question. “But... If that's the way it's gonna be, then I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. If this isn't who you are, if there aren't any feelings involved on your part, then I'm this is gonna be it. We can be friends, but without the benefits part - because that part is killing me right now,” Jared admits with a heavy sigh. “So, do you have anything to say to that?”

Swallowing again around the lump in his throat, Jensen says meekly, “I really do... did see us as friends with benefits only, honestly. Nothing more. I'm not... I mean, I can't imagine being in a relationship with another man.” The sex is not the problem, Jensen knows, too well; the problem is telling people about how his child has two daddies, or walking down the street and getting the stink eye from people for no other reason than because he's with his partner. He's just not that guy.

“Why?” Jared cries out in frustration now, and the outburst startles Jensen. “Why not? I don't get it! We work perfectly, we are a good team, the sex is fucking mind-blowing, and you can't have a relationship with me because I'm a man? Is this really still about the gay thing?” His eyes notably well up with unshed tears at that, and Jensen feels horrible seeing that.

Wordlessly, Jensen shakes his head and notices how he chokes up with tears, too. Because he may or may not be wrong about himself here, but seeing Jared so hurt is affecting him, too.

“Then what is it?”

“I'm scared,” Jensen blurts out awkwardly, on a whim. In that brief moment, he isonfident that he should simply say the truth and get it over with. “I'm thirty-fucking-five, Jared. I can't just jump into a relationship head-first anymore. Not when I'm still so unsure about myself, so unreliable. I mean, even if I don't know if I'm into guys, I know I like you. A whole damn fucking lot, okay?”

Jared's eyes go big and sad at that, and the picture tugs at Jensen's heartstrings painfully, so he continues quickly.

“But listen, and I hope you can understand... I want a family, I want a house and one-point-four kids and the whole white picket fence. And I'm not getting younger. And before I have figured out myself, and found my own identity, how can I be a good partner to anyone, really? If I'm doing this, I'm doing it right, and at this point, I don't think I'm able to do it right.”

“Really? That's your excuse?” Jared asks in disbelief and rubs his hand over his eyes. “Wanting commitment, but not willing to commit?”

“No, I'm not, I mean... I've lived in serious, committed relationships before. I know what I'm in for. But I'm afraid of working through all this just to disappoint you.”

“Of working through all the coming-out trouble and the being-seen-with-another-guy trouble and the whole, you know, accepting-yourself-for-who-you-are trouble. That's what you mean, right? So you’d rather seek the path of least resistance. Back to women, because I'm too much trouble. That's... that's great, really,” Jared spits angrily, then gets up to throw his clothes back on.

“Oh no, don't you dare spin this on me like that,” Jensen protests. “I said I don't want to disappoint you, because you don't deserve a partner who's not completely at peace with himself. You deserve better than me.”

“First, is that supposed to make me feel better?” Jared hisses bitterly. “And second, now you're twisting this around on me.”

For a moment, they just stare at each other in silence, both breathing heavily and trying to calm down. Jensen feels drained already, the argument making his stomach sicker than a punch to the gut.

“And what about... I mean, we're still friends, right? It’s worked all this time, hasn't it?” he asks tentatively.

“Friends who hang around with each other and fuck each other, just... without feelings?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry, but the 'without feelings' part is long since over. And I'm sure we're still friends, but I can't actually stand being around you at the moment,” Jared admits, quieter now, as he pulls up his sweat pants.

Jensen presses his lips shut, swallowing down all the ugly things he'd like to say right now, as he turns around to collect his own clothing.

When he's dressed, Jared stands a few feet away from him, arms crossed in front of his chest and a hard look in his eyes. “You want to know how I felt these last few months? Since you asked: no, I wasn't happy about it most of the time. I'm sick and tired of not being able to go out there and say 'Hey, that's my boyfriend'.”

Jensen swallows at that. “I guess I never saw how unhappy you were, and for that I'm sorry.”

That, at least, takes a bit of the wind out of Jared's sails. He deflates visibly and takes a deep breath. “Were you happy?” he asks on the exhale.

“Actually, I was. You know how that thing with Joanna ended. And I didn't look for a relationship or any attachment.”

“So you just saw me as a rebound?”

Jensen sighs. “Honestly? Never. I hope you can believe me. But the point is, I always thought there were no feelings involved here. I mean,—”

“Yeah, that's right, Jen. There are obviously no feelings whatsoever involved here,” Jared snaps sarcastically, and throws his arms up in an overacted shrug. “Because that's why we end up in each other's beds all the time. Because you're not the first guy I fucked, exclusively and on a regular basis, for years.”

“Jared, I—”

“Don't strain yourself; I get it. No feelings involved here, at least from your side. Well, good for you. Then it totally won't hurt or affect you in any way if I walk outta here right now. I expect you to be out of the house when I get back. See you at work, Jensen.”

And with that, Jared leaves, and slams the door shut in his wake.

Heaving out a long sigh, Jensen drops down on the bed and cradles his face in both hands. Did he just lose his best friend? Or worse, someone he could've possibly lived with happily for the rest of his life?

Could Jared really be more to him? Could he even be The One?

The thought leaves him feeling empty and troubled. His chest feels restrained and his heart clenches painfully; Jensen feels as if he can't breathe for a moment. He wants to take back his initial question, he wants to have Jared here, wants to hug him and be with him, and forget about this whole conversation.

And it hurts like shit to have Jared storm out of his life like this.

He doesn't want to think about the consequences of it all.

***

The atmosphere at work is glacial between them, and even Sam notices, but they manage to work together with a lot of professional distance.

It's hard, seeing Jared like this, crestfallen and sad. Most of the time, Jensen just wants to hug him or kiss it better. Something.

It's the Monday before the hearing, and Jensen gets thrown off his train of thought by his phone ringing.

It's Mike.

“We found the contract,” he says.

“Where was it?” Jensen asks immediately.

“In my contracts file, funny enough. And you won't believe what's printed on there.”

***

Long hours and a bad working environment are the reasons why Jensen quit his old job in the first place. His workload these days is a harsh reminder of that time.

He doesn't like coming home after 10 p.m. every day. He doesn't like spending his free time with worrying if the case will be lost or won. He doesn't like the mental ballast weighing him down constantly. He especially doesn't like the prep work.

Back then, they always had a sufficient amount of time to prepare their cases—this time, Jensen has exactly four days. The time-consuming, long conferences with the law firm that is engaged to help him with the lawsuit aren't making things any easier, and he barely sees his own office from the inside, much less his apartment.

He and Jared still don't talk, but it's kind of easier this way.

It's not like Jensen has any time to run after him, nor does he want to. Well, maybe a bit. He hasn't even gotten around to telling him the news about the contract.

Coming home after 10 p.m. also means that Jensen doesn't have the time or the motivation to do much of anything. He sits on his too-uncomfortable couch with a beer in his hand, alone, and watches the news. There's no one around to tell about his day. There's no dog laying on his feet until they fall asleep.

If Jensen is honest with himself, he misses Jared. Not in the missing-your-best-friend way. He misses how Jared would always be on board with snuggling on the couch. He misses Jared’s easy, warm laughter after a long day at work. He misses Jared's kisses, that range from affectionate to downright dirty, but always perfect.

No matter how long Jensen stares at Jared's contact information on his cell, he can't bring himself to message Jared. Jared probably doesn't even want to talk to him, seeing as he has been avoiding Jensen all week. It's understandable; Jensen can’t deny that.

Instead, he scrolls down a bit and calls a different contact.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Misha. You got a minute?" Jensen asks. His voice is rough from not having talked in hours, and he quickly clears his throat. "I know it's late, so sorry if—"

"Oh, no problem at all. West has this phase, you know, where he thinks only daddy can keep the monsters from crawling out of his closet, so I'm actually on monster-watch."

"I don't want him to wake up or anything."

"He's out like a light, don't worry," Misha chuckles. "So, anything else you need for tomorrow? Something we haven't talked about yet?"

"Um, I... no, this is not about Green. It's personal," Jensen mumbles into the speaker. Usually, he would talk to Jared about stuff like this, but that's clearly not happening.

Misha tsks at the other end of the line. "So it's about Jared."

"It is. How did you know?"

"Why would you discuss anything with me that you could discuss with him, if it wasn't about him?" Misha laughs again softly.

"Uh..."

"I don't mind. So. Trouble in paradise, I guess?"

Jensen shouldn't be surprised anymore, because Misha is damn perceptive when he wants to be. "Well, we... had a fight."

"That happens."

"He won't talk to me. For a week now, and I'm... it gets to me, you know," Jensen admits. He doesn't know how much Misha knows about his and Jared's situation—it's not like they had been sworn to secrecy, but they haven't talked openly about it either.

And that one kiss at the community center is, to this date, their only public display.

"Okay," Misha says on the exhale. "First things first. How long has it been?"

"A week, like I said."

"No, I mean since you've been dating. Or sleeping with each other. Haven't figured out which it is yet,” Misha deadpans.

“I—what?” Jensen gapes. “Did he tell you that or...?”

The eye roll in Misha's answer is practically audible. “I have eyes, you know. You two are not as subtle as you think, not when one knows where to look. And for the record, Jared hasn't told me jack squat.”

And Jensen doesn't know if he should be relieved that he doesn't need to explain or if he should be shocked that they'd been so obvious.

“About half a year,” Jensen sighs. “Since we started sleeping with each other.”

What he hears reminds Jensen of a whoop and a fist pump.

“Misha?”

“You've just won me ten dollars.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes. Ty said it was less than three months.”

Jensen groans, pinches the bridge of his nose.

“So, you were saying,” Misha continues, “that you've been sleeping with each other. So what's the problem?”

“Jared told me he's in love with me, but I'm not even sure I'm gay,” Jensen simply summarizes. “And I tried to not think in boxes, but I just can't do that. I need... you know, something.”

“Living without labels is great, I can tell you that. But involuntary or not, most people label you anyway. Being able to just say which label you prefer instead of letting different people label you in different ways is often much easier to deal with. We are strange in the way that we need labels to know how to think not only about other people, but mostly about ourselves”

“Okay.”

“You know, I usually say I'm queer, since that's the easiest way to put it, but honestly, I don't care if I fall in love with a man, woman, transwoman, transman, or anything in between. Or even if I just want into their pants. The correct term for that would be pansexual, but hardly anyone knows what it means. So I'm queer, and that's fine,” Misha pauses for effect, then continues. “Just think about it. You don't need to tell me. Just try to be honest with yourself.”

Jensen rubs his spare hand over his eyes, ponders for a second as he shuffles and buries himself deeper in the cushions of the sofa. Then he sighs. “I've been straight all my life and never had any reason to question it—I like women, okay. But when I went out with a girl not too long ago, I just... I couldn't do it, you know. I wanted to sleep with her, and I couldn't, but not, like, physically. Mentally. All I could think about was Jared.”

Misha just waits on the line, giving noncommittal, vague hums only.

“And I'm not attracted to other guys. Well, generally. Sometimes I think about it, but that's like having a girlfriend and looking at another woman at the mall. It means nothing. But there’s Jared, so... I’m not straight.”

He stops for a few moments.

He doesn't do this for Misha. He does it for himself. And, logically speaking, it's pretty clear, and what reason is there to lie to himself any longer?

I'm bisexual, Jensen mouths to himself, silently tries the way the words feel on his tongue. I'm attracted to men and women.

At least to that one, special man.

“I'm bisexual,” Jensen states, still dazed and still zoned out. And suddenly, more relieved than he’d ever thought.

“And that's exactly what I thought, too. Congratulations.”

“Don't say I won you another ten bucks,” Jensen groans.

He hears Misha's chuckle travel across the line. “No, we didn't bet on that. I probably should have.”

***

Jensen goes to bed not half an hour later, right after finishing off his beer, without sending a text to Jared. He jerks off when he's in bed, to the image of him and Jared having sex.

Only when he comes – not nearly as intense as usual – he has one finger in his ass, and the accompanying image is of Jared fucking him, Jensen on all fours in front of him, and he moans into the pillow in both his fantasy and in reality.

***

“You ready?” Misha asks from the door to his office that Friday.

“Just a second,” Jensen answers, and collects his notes and the folders he means to bring, when additional footfalls make him look up and at the door. “Jared,” he says surprised.

Which is the moment Misha bows out.

“Listen, before we get going and I don't have an opportunity to say this anymore... Good luck, man. Knock 'em dead,” Jared says as he enters the room, his voice a warm, welcome flow that's instantly comforting.

Jensen smiles at him, notices how the bags under his eyes have darkened and his skin is paler than usual.

“Thanks.”

When Jared smiles back, it's forced and tense, and Jared swallows heavily.

Jensen takes a step towards him, raises his hand to slowly reach for his hip, place it there. Jared doesn’t flinch, just looks a bit baffled. “Are you alright?”

“Not so much,” Jared admits, the tired smile falling as he sighs.

“Me neither,” Jensen says quietly. “And I'm not talking about the lawsuit.”

Jared startles, fixes him with a hopeful gaze. “What then?”

“I miss you, man,” Jensen looks down at where his hand is rubbing over Jared's side.

“Yeah, I... you too,” Jared stutters.

This is the side of Jared that Jensen misses the most. He isn't acting like he is fine; he isn't pretending. Before, Jensen had only seen Jared put on his act a couple times, and never for him. Until last week, Jared had never been anyone but himself for Jensen.

For Jensen, he's vulnerable.

Jensen looks up, meets Jared's troubled blue-grey eyes, and strokes his cheek. He watches in awe when Jared leans into the touch.

He can barely stand seeing Jared miserable. It's not like Jared is fishing for support, because Jared doesn't do that; however, Jensen has the overwhelming urge to just wrap him up in his arms until he feels better.

“Can we talk, after all of this is over?” Jensen asks softly.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Jensen answers, before he pulls Jared into a bone-crushing hug. “It's gonna be alright.”

***

“Ferris & Gamble Ltd. will be represented by attorney Jensen Ackles,” the judge announces, and Jensen dutifully steps up to the middle of the court room.

After the usual questions, the judge asks wearily. “So, Mr. Ackles. We heard the charge, so let’s start with the witnesses.”

“I summon Michael Rosenbaum, the author of the book in question.” Jensen nods at Mike, and waits until he has taken his seat and has confirmed his personal data to the judge.

He’s obviously nervous, so Jensen smiles at him calmly. “Mr. Rosenbaum, your first book, ‘Homoerotic Readings in Video Games’, was published by Green Publishing in 2004, right?”

“Correct,” Mike nods.

“It wasn’t very successful, though, and they put it out of print after three years, in 2007.”

“Also correct.”

“So when your next book was ready to publish, you searched for a new publisher. Why is that exactly?” Jensen paces up and down in front of the judge, calm and confident. The way he knows will catch people’s eyes.

“Well, I know it was my first book, but I really expected more promotion for it from Green. I still believe that their lack of advertisement is part of the reason why it wasn’t successful. Of course, since I put a lot of time and effort into this book, I was disappointed.”

“Understandably so,” Jensen says. “So in 2010, you found Ferris & Gamble publishing and signed a contract for your latest book. It included a clause stipulating that Ferris & Gamble had the right to re-publish your first book, assuming that, because it had been out of print since 2007, the initial contract with Green would have been terminated due to the effluxion of time.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s very common among publishers to have the contract terminated without further notice if the book is out of print for two years. However, in this contract,“ Jensen points at the document, which is promptly brought over to Mike, “you signed that it would be ten years, not two, before the contract runs out.”

Jensen makes a dramatic pause for effect, and then opens his suitcase to pull out Mike’s original contract. “But this contract—your copy of the document you signed—says otherwise.”

The judge raises an eyebrow.

“Your honor,” Jensen addresses him. “This is the original contract. You can easily tell by the yellowed edges that this one has been lying on a windowsill for a while. And because Mr. Rosenbaum signed it in blue ink.”

“Hand it to me,” the judge says, and Jensen immediately does as he’s told.

“And if you look for the clause in question, there’s two years, not ten.”

“True,” the judge nods, and his brow furrows.

Jensen shoots a triumphant smile in the direction of Green and his lawyer, Welling. The smug bastard had turned very pale during the last minute. Perhaps Jensen's gloating is unbecoming, but he feels no sympathy when Welling has risked his degree to ruin smaller publishers.

“Mr. Rosenbaum.” The judge turns to him, pondering. “Is it possible that you didn’t sign the contract Mr. Green handed me?”

“That’s exactly the case, and I can easily tell you why,” Mike smiles and pulls out a pen from his pocket. “I have this fountain pen. It's a family heirloom; my grandfather gave it to me. And honestly, I'm a bit superstitious. I only sign my contracts with that pen. And it's always filled with blue, inerasable ink. I haven't made one single exception from this rule since I started writing. The signature on this contract is black. This is not my signature.”

“So you say it's been forged,” the judge concludes.

“Yes,” Mike confirms, and Jensen swallows. This could be it.

“Bring me Anderson, he should take a look at these contracts,” the judge orders.

“Can I add a few more things while we wait?” Jensen asks.

“Go on, then.”

“I know we can’t prove anything, but I’d like to point out a few other things that I came across during my investigations. There are actually not many small presses or publishers around here, and I began to wonder why. There’s Thompson & Glass, who were fairly successful—at least that’s what they told me when I met them last month—until the lawsuit from Green & Partner, that left them barely able to survive after the reparations payment. I also talked to Eric Kripke, a freelance editor of ours, who owned a publishing business a few years back. He also was sued by Green, and was forced to file for bankruptcy subsequently. In all of these cases—ours, Thompson & Glass’, Kripke’s—there wasn’t any evidence against Green. But I think it’s kind of suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, Mr. Ackles, but you are making serious assumptions here. I’m sure you’re aware that these are, if at all, to be discussed separately.”

“I’m aware, your honor, but since these lawsuits have little to no chance of being re-opened, I needed to point this out. For the record.”

That’s when a man in a long, white coat steps into the court room. “Ah, Anderson,” the judge greets him, and then steps towards him to explain the situation. The contract is handed to Anderson, and after a few moments of looking at it and running his fingertips over the sheet of paper, he starts to whisper to the judge excitedly.

Jensen waits patiently for them to finish talking, and it’s like everyone in the whole court room holds their breath until the judge returns to his seat.

“Any more questions for Mr. Rosenbaum?”

“Not at the moment, your honor.”

“Okay, then I summon William Anderson to tell us about the signatures on these contracts.”

Anderson takes Mike’s seat and clears his throat. “I—yes. Your honor, as you know, I work at the police department’s lab, and I took a quick look at this contract.”

He pauses, looks around, then states, “You see, with a signature made in ink, the ink spreads in various thicknesses over the page, depending on how fast the writer signs and how firmly he presses the pen to the paper; you can easily tell a fake that was made with a photocopier. The ink tells clearly how the person signs. Pressure on the pen is visible from the ink. If you take the shape of the signature, copy it in black instead of blue, and trace it with the right accentuation on certain letters with the pin of a blunt instrument like a thick needle, you could easily recreate how the signature would look if it had been done in ballpoint. Which, I think, is exactly what has been done here.”

Everyone in the room seems to take a deep breath, and Jensen steals a glance over his shoulder, to where Jared sits. He looks just about ready to pass out from nerves, and Jensen smiles at him, wide and happy. Told you.

“Your honor, I'd like to talk to my client in private,” Welling suddenly breaks the silence.

The judge nods. “Everyone, we will break for ten minutes. Then Mr. Welling will fully explain this matter before the court,” he adds, and slams his hammer down.

Jared, Jensen and Sam step outside for a short minute, too, just to get some fresh air. Jensen smiles brightly, and so does Sam.

“Let’s not jinx it.” Jensen points at them. “This isn't over yet.”

“But we are at a pretty good point there,” Sam says, unable to keep from grinning.

“They might still deny any knowledge of what was going on. They might find a loophole around all this.”

“Yeah, but at least the charges against us sure must be dropped?” Jared asks.

“I'd feel better if they'd get more than that. I mean, what they did was forging of a signature and false testimony at least,” Sam adds.

“Basically, yeah, but we'll have to wait and see,” Jensen nods.

About ten minutes later, they're called back into the court room.

***

“In the name of the people I render the following verdict: Charges against Ferris & Gamble will be dropped. The plaintiff, Green Publishing, after confessing to an illegal alteration of the contract held with Michael Rosenbaum, is financially liable for the defendant’s expenditures. Furthermore, there will be a separate trial for fraud, false testimony, and forging of a signature against Green & Partner, which is yet to be announced.”

***

“You were absolutely brilliant,” Sam says proudly, as she places her hand on Jensen's shoulder.

“Thank you,” Jensen smiles around the glass of champagne in his hand, and takes a sip from it.

They're celebrating the end of the trial, and all staff have gathered around the conference table in the board room. Someone sent Kevin, their intern, for champagne and some pastries from Ty's shop. The elation in the room is almost palpable.

For a celebration, it's still quiet – it's still sinking in that the trial is over, that they've made it.

But when Jared comes over and leans against the table beside Jensen, a happy grin on his face, it's clear as day how much they both needed this.

Jensen smiles back and leans against Jared's shoulder.

“Talk later?” Jared asks quietly.

“At home,” Jensen nods.

“My place?”

It doesn't take as long for that realization to sink in. “Yes, that's what I meant,” Jensen answers. Because his apartment might be his apartment, but it's a few rooms with furniture that isn't even his. It's a bed he only slept in a few nights per week, while he spent his weekends at Jared's place, in his bed. Home is where Jared and his dogs are.

Jared seems to have that same realization right then, and his grin is blinding.

***

Sam sends them home at about four in the afternoon, when it's clear nothing more is going to happen in the office that day.

Jensen is pleasantly buzzed on champagne, and Jared is practically glowing beside him on the bus.

When they're home and have taken care of the dogs, they stand awkwardly in the kitchen. Neither of them is sure how to begin.

“So, the talk,” Jared eventually says, clapping his hands.

“Yeah, I,” Jensen takes a deep breath. “I kinda had a revelation last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Jared's smile widens.

With a nod, Jensen looks away. “It's– I can't believe I'm saying this, but...” He finds Jared's eyes again, and then states as firmly as his nervousness lets him, “I'm bisexual.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jared grins. “I'm glad you see it now, though.”

“Yeah, I... me too. I mean, it's pretty obvious in hindsight. I don't know why I didn't want to see that sooner.”

Jared shrugs. “It's an uncomfortable thing to admit to, and it means trouble. Believe me, I know.”

Jensen nods quietly, and bites his lip. “You know,” he starts, and feels how his heart picks up the pace. “It means trouble alright, but... you're worth the trouble. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't.”

“So you're saying you want to come out? Official and all?” Jared asks hesitantly.

“I... pretty much, yeah,” Jensen nods. “I have no idea where to start or what to do, but I guess I'm not the first one who has to bite the bullet. And you... if you're still interested, I really want to try this.”

“This—as in us, a relationship, being with me, everything?”

“All of it,” Jensen smiles.

“Okay, then.” The smile slowly returns to Jared's face as he pulls Jensen into his arms, squeezes him tightly, and finally kisses him on the lips. It's still soft and gentle, but it sweeps Jensen off his feet, makes his heart race and his hands shake. He clutches them into Jared's shirt, pulls him even closer.

When they break apart for air, they can't wipe the huge grins off their faces. Jensen leans his forehead against Jared's, and bumps their noses together. Still, there's one more matter he needs to address.

“My only condition is that my big plan still stands. You know, the house/husband/kids kind of plan?”

“I remember,” Jared smiles. “Count me in.”

For a few moments, all they do is stand in front of each other and smile. The picture of West crawling all over Jared, his tiny arms wrapped around Jared's neck, is back stronger than ever, and Jensen wants it sooner rather than later.

But then again, what if...

“There's something still bothering you, isn't it?”

With a long sigh, Jensen nods. “Jared, I... I suck at relationships, you know.”

Jared wiggles his eyebrows. “I know for a fact that you do, in fact, suck pretty good.”

Breaking into a heartfelt laugh – the first in the last week – Jensen feels the last remnant of the tension falling off of him. “You know what I mean, though,” he continues, “I don't want to mess this up. It's too important to me.”

“We are two adults, Jen. We can talk it out if there's a problem. Hell, we're talking a problem out right now, aren't we? And we did so before, too.”

“But we weren't dating at the time,” Jensen objects.

Jared raises both of his eyebrows as he huffs, “Seriously? Have you met us during the past six months? And you still call that not dating?”

In hindsight, it makes sense. There were weekends spent entirely with each other, dinner in fancy Italian restaurants, and a two week holiday that they practically spent in each other's pocket.

“Holy shit, was I blind,” Jensen states. His eyes are wide open when he looks up at Jared and for the first time, he doesn't see his friend or his fuckbuddy.

He sees Jared, with his floppy brown hair and his dimpled grin and his beautiful eyes and for the first time, he sees him as the one person he couldn't ever live without again.

“Fuck, I've been in love with you all this time, haven't I?” he adds breathlessly.

“Took you some time to figure that out,” Jared teases, his grin turning smug, but Jensen can't help but reciprocate it.

Their lips crash together, passionate, desperate. Jensen presses into Jared, and backs him up against the counter as he licks into Jared's mouth. Jared's hands are on his hips, and his thigh slots between Jensen's, rubbing against the bulge there. A deep moan wrings its way out of Jensen and gets muffled against Jared's lips, and Jensen is surprised by yet another revelation.

“Jay,” Jensen groans in-between heated kisses. “Jay, I want you to fuck me.”

Jared leans back, watching him carefully. “Are you sure?”

Nodding solemnly, Jensen smiles. “As sure as I'll ever be.”

Strong hands travel up the underside of his thighs until they reach Jensen's ass, and grip it tightly to rock him gently against Jared's crotch. The line of Jared’s hard cock, trapped in black slacks, rubs against Jensen's, and the thin fabric of his own suit pants doesn't disguise his enthusiasm.

“Fucking finally,” Jared growls deeply. The rough tone of his voice goes straight to Jensen's cock. Then he's pulled towards the bedroom and kissed with an urgency he never expected. He thought he knew Jared, got to know him over the course of these months, but the man before him is nothing like the guy who once offered to bottom so they could have anal sex at all.

Within a split second, Jensen is met with a Jared who's all too confident in every single one of his moves. He sits down on the bed and pulls Jensen into his lap by his tie. Jared uses it to hold him in place while he snaps the buttons of his shirt open with his other hand, shoves both pieces of clothing out of the way, and, while he's at it, flips them both over. A hot trail of kisses is planted down Jensen's back, along his spine, until Jared's lips are right at the small of his back, hands running down over the swell of his ass.

“Up,” Jared orders softly, slapping one hand gently down on Jensen's ass.

Dutifully, and not without a chuckle, Jensen lifts his hips and squirms when Jared's fingers hit a ticklish spot on his hipbones on their way to his front.

“Sorry,” Jared's voice breaks as he fumbles with Jensen's belt buckle. As soon as it's open, Jensen finds his pants and underwear tugged down to his knees. Jared's large palm is splayed on the small of his back once again, and it pushes him down onto the bed so Jared can pull off the remaining clothes.

With a grin, Jensen reaches for the bottle of lube that they always hide between the two mattresses and subsequently hands it over to Jared. He's ready for this. Really, he is. It's just that for the first time, he is not the one in control here. Sure, he knows about the technicalities, he knows the logistics, and he's had Jared's lubed finger inside of him more than once. But this is still new, and he's admittedly nervous.

The bottle of lube snaps open, and after a few moments, Jensen feels the wetness on his sensitive entrance. This part is familiar, and so is Jared's finger, shoving in to the second knuckle in one go.

Jensen breathes out slowly, willing his body to relax and accept the intrusion. It did get easier and less uncomfortable with every time they did this, so he's optimistic. However, Jensen doesn't start to moan until the fingertip of Jared's index finger rubs over his prostate. It’s tentative and careful at first, but soon Jared works his finger in and out of him steadily.

“C'mon, one more,” Jensen manages to groan when it seems like Jared is just trying to make him rut into the mattress with every stroke.

“Sorry, Jen, but I'm calling the shots today,” Jared practically purrs behind him, his voice is malicious and seductive, and it’s doing nothing to lessen Jensen's arousal.

He gets a second finger after a few more encouraging thrusts of his ass into Jared's touch. He can still remember how one finger felt: like something that wasn't supposed to be there, yet was giving him so much pleasure. The second finger in his ass feels like his body is stretched impossibly and unnaturally to something that's simply too much to take. He jerks forward in surprise, away from Jared's fingers.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Jared immediately asks, sounding worried.

“No... no, just. It's a bit much,” Jensen manages to cough out as he feels warmth spreading on his cheeks. Fuck, he's blushing. And with his cheek pressed into the pillow, Jared surely notices.

Jared smiles as he shamelessly resumes his ministrations on Jensen's asshole, with only one finger this time, running along the rim, dipping the fingertip in every so often, and thrusting in barely to the second ring of muscle before retreating. And he still manages to talk during that. “It's gonna be okay, Jen. Just relax. Think about how good it's going to feel once we're done with the foreplay and get to the actual fucking. You do still want to do this, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Because I'll stop the moment you say you changed your mind. No hard feelings, I promise.”

“Just an epic set of blue balls on your side.”

Jared levels him with a firm look and stops even the movement of his finger for a moment. “I'm serious.”

“I know,” Jensen sighs. “So get on with it.”

Because honestly, Jensen can't wait. He wants to feel Jared inside of him, and not just his finger.

“Stop being so impatient,” Jared scolds, leaning down to playfully nibble at Jensen's neck. “The journey's the fun part, remember? Enjoy it.” He punctuates every word with a stroke of his finger, as deep into Jensen's body as it's physically possible, and Jensen feels how the muscles accept it more and more with every thrust. “This part is all about you, the next will be about me having my way with you.”

At that, Jensen groans deeply, both at Jared's words and because Jared just worked his middle finger in alongside his index finger without Jensen even noticing. And it doesn't hurt, it just feels a bit uncomfortable. Jared takes his time, starting with slow, short strokes that give Jensen all the time he needs to adjust to the feeling of being so full.

“Think you can take a third one?” Jared asks after a while, and how he's still able to sound so calm and collected, Jensen has no idea. He's never had to take so much time to prepare Jared, especially during the last couple of weeks. Jensen knows he'd go crazy if he were in Jared's place right now.

“Yeah, do it. Better safe than sorry,” Jensen answers anyway. “I've seen your cock, after all.”

Chuckling in that deep sex-voice that never fails to amaze Jensen, Jared replies, “And just think about what it's going to feel like inside of you. My thick cock stretching you, filling you up so good. Oh, you're gonna love it. You know how it feels when you fuck me? I promise you this is going to be even better.”

“Promises, promises,” Jensen smiles and shakes his head teasingly, only to clutch the sheets under his hands the second after. Third finger, right there, agonizingly slowly sliding in along the other two. It's okay, mostly, so Jensen breathes in and out quickly and works through the initial, slight burn.

“You okay?” Jared asks again when he's fully in.

“Yeah.”

“Feels good?”

“Doesn't feel bad?” Jensen supplies, and wriggles his hips backwards, trying to shove Jared's fingers further into him experimentally.

“Hey, easy. I said I'm calling the shots, didn't I?”

Jensen grumbles, but stays still for a few maddening seconds. Then Jared starts moving, gentle, steady thrusts into his body, again and again, until Jensen is a writhing mess on the bed. At various stages his mouth has dropped Jared's name, , more or less involuntarily, starting as a sigh and a whisper, and ending up not far from being a loud, frustrated groan.

“God, just-” Jensen breaks off mid-sentence, unable to form one coherent thought. At this point, he's painfully hard, craving his release, and his heart racing in his chest. “Just do it,” he says eventually, at a loss for words.

“Still so bossy,” Jared comments, but pulls his fingers out.

When Jensen looks over his shoulders to watch Jared, he notices that the other man is still fully dressed. Right, that was the thing he forgot.

Jensen rolls over onto his back, just to help Jared get undressed, pulling his shirt off his broad, perfect shoulders, running his hands down his trained torso, tracing his abs and the jut of his hipbones with his fingers on his way to the belt and zipper.

While Jared is busy getting rid of his pants and rolling on a condom, Jensen grabs the lube to spread a generous amount on his own palm.

Jared eyes him confused. “Huh?”

“C'mere,” Jensen drawls, and that's all Jared needed to crawl back into bed with him.

Jensen opens his legs and beckons Jared between them, reaching down to wrap his lube-covered hand around Jared's hard dick. That move elicits an immediate, blissful sigh from Jared's lips, and Jensen enjoys that he can make him sound like that when Jared asks, “Don't you wanna ride me? You'd have all the control over every move.”

“I trust you,” Jensen says simply. “And I can relax better like this.”

Jensen guides Jared forward with one hand on his cock, towards Jensen's ass. It takes them a few tries until the fit is perfect, and they're trying to cover it with awkward laughter and giggling.

But as soon as the head of Jared's cock is in place and pushing in, slipping into Jensen’s ass, past the first muscle, he's done with the laughing.

Because holy fucking shit.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I... yeah. I'm good.”

Once again, Jared moves slowly, but steadily, and by the time he's buried, balls-deep, into Jensen's body, Jensen is about to go crazy. Not only because the pain is absolutely minimal—Jared's excessive prep spared him that—but because it feels amazing.

Jared falls forward to rest both elbows beside Jensen's head, and, without moving, he kisses Jensen passionately. Jensen tries to kiss back, but, considering that Jensen was already a panting, breathless mess when Jared was still pushing in, he's too distracted and too out of air. Jared doesn't seem to mind, judged by the smile on his lips.

Sometime mid-kiss, Jared starts to pull out, just an inch or two. Then he pushes equally slowly back in, not hurrying along even though Jensen knows how good it feels, and how much Jared must crave to fuck him through the mattress right now, yet he's so sweet and considerate about it.

“I won't break,” he reassures Jared, lips still resting on his. “Promise. I'm good.”

With a broken moan, Jared finally thrusts firmly. He pushes in and out confidently, and Jensen acutely feels like the air is punched out of his lungs, because —

Oh, god, he's so very gay.

“How did I ever think I was the top in this relationship?” he groans. “God, this is good. Don't stop. Please.”

Jared laughs and leans back to watch Jensen with a fond smile.

“I'm so in love with you,” Jared whispers between two moans, again fully sheathed in Jensen's body.

“Me too,” Jensen adds softly, reaching up to stroke Jared's cheek.

From then on, there's no holding back. Jared's thrusts become faster and are clearly meant to drive Jensen to climax. Every move makes Jared's cockhead stroke over Jensen's prostate, driving him mad with arousal.

His orgasm slams into him after a set of perfectly timed thrusts, and makes him suck in a deep breath that shudders through his whole body as he comes across his own belly. Jensen vaguely is aware that his hands are on Jared's ass, pushing him rhythmically into his body while Jared sucks a mark onto his neck, and that Jared's coming only a few moments after him. And then they're just resting, Jared still within him, both breathless and fucked-out and grinning like morons as they trade frantic kisses.

After catching their breath and cleaning up, they fall back onto the bed, naked and happy and content as ever, when Jensen says casually, “Can I stay at your place after tonight's celebratory dinner?”

And Jared, sleepy and obviously still feeling hazy after his orgasm, answers, “As far as I'm concerned, you could move in.”

For a moment, Jensen just stares at him.

That's when it's dawning on Jared what he just said, his eyes widening in shock. “I'm... I mean, you've been living here practically, anyway, right? And the house was never meant for me alone, it was meant for... two. Or, you know, more, later. A place to start a family.”

Jensen swallows. “So what you're saying is—”

“Move in with me?” Jared finishes with a hopeful, tiny smile.

And honestly, thinking about spending one more week in his too-empty, too-impersonal apartment, is enough for Jensen to make his decision. “Okay.”

Jared kisses him breathless once more.

***

Jensen wakes up the next morning with a slight headache, but, with Jared spooned around him and dropping little kisses on his neck, he can't help but smile. “Morning,” he mumbles lazily.

“Morning,” Jared answers roughly, with his lips still resting against Jensen's skin and making the little hairs on his neck rise up. “Any preferences for breakfast?”

“Coffee,” Jensen yawns.

“Nothing else?”

“Well, sex would be nice,” he adds with a smirk.

Jared rolls over and drapes himself all over Jensen, captures his lips in a passionate kiss, and Jensen is so on board with this plan that he's already moaning and slowly grinding his hips into Jared's within two seconds flat.

But Jared breaks the kiss way too quickly and leans back, watching Jensen with a grin as he groans, frustrated. “Later,” Jared promises. “I'm starving.”

“You're always starving,” Jensen mumbles. “And hey, I hear protein is good for breakfast?”

Jared all but gapes at him. “You did not just say that.”

Wordlessly, Jensen grins some more.

“For that alone, you won't get lucky until after breakfast,” Jared scolds back playfully and goes to stand up.

“Really?” Jensen complains, but the grin is still persistent on his lips. “That's deceptive advertising, you know. All these months we had sex practically every waking minute, and now that we're boyfriends—”

Jared is back at his side right then to interrupt him, his face having turned serious. “Now that we're boyfriends, I don't need to be afraid of you being gone by next weekend,” he says quietly.

That makes Jensen swallow heavily, but then he grabs Jared's neck to place the most loving, reassuring kiss on his lips that he can manage. “I'm not going anywhere,” he says afterwards, his voice breathy but sure.

“Good,” Jared sighs in relief, then lies back down beside Jensen to bury his face in the crook of his neck, holding him close.

Only then does Jensen fully realize what their relationship limbo has done to poor Jared in all these months.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers quietly, running his hands through Jared's messy bed-head, smoothing the strands and brushing them back so they don't tickle his nose.

“It's okay,” Jared mumbles into his skin. “We're here now, aren't we?”

“And I'm not going anywhere,” Jensen repeats firmly with his hands wrapped tightly around Jared's torso. “Don't think I'll ever let you go again.”

It's been a day like any other.

At least it had been when Jared got up this morning and kissed Jensen awake. For all his other treats, Jensen has never been and never will be a morning person. But today, he didn't even complain as much as usual during their morning run with the dogs. He even managed a smile before he'd had his first cup of coffee, which was a miracle by itself.

So, all in all, it had been an enjoyable morning, but Jared can't shake the feeling that something's up with his boyfriend. Two years together— two and a half, if you count that half year that they spent tiptoeing around each other and fucking like bunnies. Not that the second part changed over time.

Jared doesn't see much of Jensen while they're at work, but that isn't unusual either.

Only, when lunch time rolls around and he's about to ask Jensen if he should get him a sandwich from the deli down the street, Jensen declines. It makes Jared frown and ask, “What the hell is up with you today?”

“What? Nothing,” Jensen is quick to say with an innocent shake of his head. Too quick, almost.

“You sure you want nothing to eat?” Jared chases, because not even a huge pile of work has ever kept Jensen away from having lunch. Sure, it's been lunch at his desk a couple times, but he never skipped it.

For a moment, Jensen seems to ponder, then says, “Okay, maybe... my usual, but only half a foot-long?”

“Will do,” Jared smiles, but doesn't let on just how much Jensen's behavior is still confusing him.

He wonders, all the way to the deli and back, but he can't for the life of him think of anything that had been different during the past few days. They've had their problems, sure, but it's not like any outstanding, difficult arguments had happened. After their rather rough start, with Jensen's whole pre-midlife crisis, and them finally getting together, things hadn't always been easy. But if they’ve learned one thing, it’s that talking about stuff like this is important. Something is definitely up, so why Jensen hasn't said anything is a mystery to Jared.

When he returns to the office and immediately heads to Jensen's room to bring him his sandwich, he finds the desk empty. A look into Misha's office down the hall shows it to be empty, too. Generally speaking, all the office rooms are all eerily quiet.

Well, that settles it.

“Where is everybody?” Jared mumbles to himself, eventually heading for Jensen's chair.

There's a post-it note stuck to the monitor.

Meet me on the roof. - J.

So, lunch on the roof it is. Again, it's not uncommon for them, but why Jensen didn't tell him before... huh. With a shrug, Jared takes the elevator up to the top floor, and walks up the stairs to the roof.

The sun is shining bright, and in that gleaming ray of light, there's Jensen, standing right in their usual spot in the corner of the roof. When he hears the gravel crunching underneath Jared's feet as he approaches, Jensen turns around. The picture of him never ceases to leave Jared breathless, especially with a gentle smile like this and the sunlight sparkling in his deep green eyes, highlighting the freckles that were Jared's doom from the moment he met Jensen.

“Hey,” Jared leans down to place a short peck on his lips.

“Hey,” Jensen answers, sounding like he's been on a different planet just seconds ago.

“Why didn't you say we were having lunch on the roof?”

Jensen's hands are buried in his pockets and he stares into space above the buildings of downtown Seattle as he says simply, “This was the first place you showed me when I started working here. I guess that was the day I realized that we were friends. And... I just wanted to do this here.”

Shaking his head in confusion, Jared blinks into the sun. “What are you talking about?”

That's when Jensen goes down on one knee in front of him, his hands finally leaving his pockets to reveal a small, blue box. And only now does Jared notice how Jensen's hands are shaking slightly. Jensen clumsily opens the box to show the ring that rests inside.

“I wanted to ask you if you want to marry me,” Jensen's voice breaks mid-sentence as he half-asks, half bursts out the question, and together with the hopeful, nervous smile on his lips, it's all too adorable.

Jared grins. “So I don't get a big speech about how much you love me? Just... straight to the point?” he teases as he places the sandwich bag on the table beside him.

“Do you know how nervous I've been for the whole day? I'm glad I even got the question out without dying from a heart attack,” Jensen protests. “And you know that I love you,” he adds in a softer tone.

“Yeah, I know,” Jared replies nonchalantly, deciding Jensen, left hanging, is adorable to look at, and he doesn’t want to stop it just yet. Jared shakes his head again, this time in disbelief. “You're crazy.”

“For wanting to marry you? Damn right I am, for kneeling in the gravel while you beat around the bush,” Jensen raises an eyebrow. “I’ve probably ruined my favorite suit for this.”

“Right, your favorite... my favorite,” Jared grins, as he remembers having once said that Jensen's ass, in that particular suit, was worth being worshiped.

For a moment, they just smile at each other, before Jensen clears his throat. “So? Gravel is not exactly the most comfortable ground to kneel on, you know.”

Jared goes down on one knee, too, but only to wrap his arms around Jensen's waist and get him upright. Then he takes a close look at the ring, a plain, silver band without any fancy ornaments or carvings, without a stone. And yet, it's perfect.

“Am I so obviously the woman in this relationship that I'm the one who gets to wear the engagement ring?” Jared laughs, never mind that he's generally the one who tops between them nowadays.

“Actually,” Jensen says, digging into his other pocket and coming up with a second box, “I read that it's most common here for the woman to wear the engagement ring, but in other countries, like most of the countries in Europe, both partners wear a matching ring. So, I thought...” wordlessly, he opens the second box to show another ring to Jared, a copy to the first one, but a bit smaller.

And while teasing Jensen was all fun and dandy, Jared can't help it any more. He takes the second box from Jensen and plucks the ring from the foam material. “Which hand is it supposed to go, then?”

“Left,” Jensen answers, but then his lips curl into an amused smirk. “You still haven't answered my question, though.”

Jared grins. “Oh. Could you just repeat it for me?”

“Do you want to be my husband, asshole?” Jensen grins right back.

“Yes, jerkface,” Jared answers, pulls Jensen into his arms and kisses him senseless.

Somewhere in-between the kisses, they manage to get the rings onto their left ring fingers, and it's almost pathetic how much they're grinning and just can't stop, not even during more kisses.

That is, until everything around them erupts into claps and cheers and whooping. As they break apart, Jared notices that they're surrounded by all their co-workers and their boss— scratch that, surrounded by their friends, and it's perfect.

After a round of congratulations and the promise of champagne once they're back in their office, Jared and Jensen are once again alone on the rooftop.

“Holy shit, I've got a fiancé,” Jared realizes aloud.

Jensen doubles over in laughter. “Only noticed it now?”

“Hey, I noticed it sooner than you noticed you were totally gay for me,” Jared shoots back.

It had been a sensitive topic for a while, but they've long since moved past that. Nowadays, it's mostly used by Jared to tease Jensen.

“Yeah, well, you try living over thirty years of your life with a principle that gets thrown overboard within a few months of meeting someone,” Jensen grins. “I honestly always thought I was straight.”

“And I called bullshit.”

“Thank god for that,” Jensen answers, and kisses him again.

Jensen was so sure that he'd need to find a wife to be happy.

Then, along came Jared.

THE END.