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The End of the Tunnel, 1/1, R, J2
Title: The End of The Tunnel
Author:Vamphile
Pairing:J2
Rating: R
Word Count: 4300 +/-
Summary Jared's kinda a stalker, Jensen doesn’t particularly mind
A/N: I have no idea where this came from.
Graphics by:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
brianslave68
The End of The Tunnel
Jared considered his options while keeping a semi-interested expression on his face. There were pills, but that was iffy at best, although he thought his combination of sedatives and muscle relaxants would do the trick. There was good old fashioned wrist slitting but that hurt, plus being found naked in a tub full of blood was a little melodramatic for his tastes. There was throwing himself off a building but he was afraid of a) pussying out and b) one of those very special moments when a cop tried to talk him down. In the end he came to the same conclusion he always did. Bullet to the brain. He had the gun, he’d tasted the barrel he just hadn’t pulled the trigger yet.
He was thinking about why again when he realized that the three other men at the table were looking to him. He smiled and faked his way through the rest of the meeting. Yeah, a bullet to the brain had to be better than strategizing how to get corn flakes on an endcap in supermarkets. Were there people who didn’t know what cornflakes were? He poured himself another cup of coffee before disappearing back into his office, hopefully to remain alone with his thoughts and PowerPoint presentations for the rest of the day. It was eleven am.
Jensen loved his job. He wasn’t supposed to. He knew that. No one liked working in the mailroom. That’s the crap job you use to pay your dues, but he liked it. He liked sorting things, he like that when he filled his cart to deliver the mail no one bothered him, no one even noticed him, and most of the time, he was just delivering them to other boxes, not even cubicles. If he timed it right he could go the whole day without talking to anyone and if he went the whole week with zero employee interaction, he called it a win. He needed the money; he liked the time to think. He didn’t expect or desire to be friends with any of them. His life was all about ten pm to two am. What he did here was just a means to an end.
Some of the larger offices had boxes on the door for incoming mail. J. Padalecki was one of those offices. Jensen dropped the mail in the box and checked for outgoing correspondence. There wasn’t any.
He moved on.
On Wednesday Jared was stuck in a meeting again. Strategizing about cake frosting, and the term icing vs. frosting in different regions of the country. He suggested they create a label that says frosting on one side and icing on the other and let the stores decide which side faced out.
Everyone thought he was brilliant. He thinks there’s something fundamentally stupid about them and their serious concern over cans of flavored sugar.
Back in his office he was creating a graph depicting the significant bump in sales experienced by stores who make his company’s brand of popcorn a featured item. There is no significant bump, but he made the scale in tens rather than hundreds and suddenly the jump is noticeable and attractive.
He heard a cheerful whistle just before the sound of someone messing with his inbox. Through the small glass panels on either side of his office door he saw a man, good shoulders and a comfortable smile that seems to always be there. He wonders, uncharitably if he’s possibly retarded, or in some other way deficient. No one can work here and be that happy. He opened the door and reached for his mail, staring at the mail clerk’s receding figure. Huh.
Jensen was looking forward to tonight, so much that he didn’t bother to think about being quiet and keeping a low profile. He hummed and whistled, returned automatic smiles with a real one. He had found a new club last night and tonight, he was going to dance until someone made him an offer he didn’t want to refuse. Tonight he’d have his pick of hot guys he’d never met and may never meet again. He didn’t notice Jared noticing him, but his mind wasn’t on J. Padalecki. He’s already delivered his mail. He moved on to the fifth floor.
Jared had been watching Jensen for two weeks now. Casually observing him around the office. He didn’t usually whistle and smile. That had apparently been an anomaly. He was for the most part, silent. Not stealthy, not obviously avoidant but clearly not a social butterfly. He avoided any group of people, not matter how small, took the long way around the floor if the cubicle dwellers had assembled to bitch about the company, or spouses, or whatever the fuck they bitched about.
Jensen was almost graceful about it. He clearly found it a challenge more than anything. Jared had graduated, after a week of watching him circle the fourth floor, to casually getting coffee on the second floor, declaring the copier the best on the third floor and finding some petty reason to be on the fifth floor. Yeah, he’d taken to following Jensen but it wasn’t enough.
He went home and sat, watching mindless television and holding the gun in his hand, flipping it over and over, staring at the glint of aquatic light from the television on the barrel. He pressed the barrel under his jaw, felt the cold metal against his skin, closed his eyes and imagined it all going away. He considered his empty useless existence. He ensured the increased sale of cheerios. He had given up, years ago, on making a relationship work and now, he has an empty, ugly one bedroom apartment and a generic office space in a pointless job to show for all his work to get through college.
Or maybe this is how everyone lived and it just bothered him more.
Didn’t matter. He was gonna… and then he put the gun down, because images of Jensen. That was his name; Jensen Ackles, flashed and he remembered that there was one bright light in this dimly lit life. There was Jensen.
Jensen was aware that J. Padalecki (Jared, the J stood for Jared), was watching him, like hardcore; almost stalking him. He did some checking. Jared couldn’t fire him, and would have to go to great pains to get him fired. Jared didn’t seem to want him to go though. The way he looked at Jensen. Jensen knew that look; he just usually got it when he was in his club gear. Ripped jeans, tight t-shirt that ended up tucked into the back of his jeans within an hour, product in his hair and a smudge of eyeliner just to remind the guys at the club that he was more than a hot ass, he was also a pretty face.
He didn’t mind Jared watching at work. He’ll admit he was disconcerted to find him at the club his eyes still only on Jensen until Jensen looked back. But even finding him at the club didn’t upset him. Jensen liked being watched. Maybe more than was healthy. His mother always accused him of wanting to be the center of attention. He never understood why that was a bad thing. He liked people to watch him, and yet most of the time, he felt invisible. He used to try to get his attention fix at work but lost too many jobs for bringing the wrong kind of attention down on his head, and now he knew to avoid everyone, act invisible and you become invisible. So he did, and it worked, except for Jared. Jared Padalecki couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him and Jensen figured that however fucked up it was, he was just fine with it. Jensen made brief eye contact with Jared.
Jensen was staring right at him. Jared wasn’t even sure what he was doing here. All he knew was that he’d become a bit of a stalker and for the first time in years he was comfortable with the role he’d created. He’d followed Jensen home from work, desperate to know what made him so content in his life, and five hours later Jensen had come out looking… not like Jensen. There was product in his hair, and tight jeans and the kid who delivered the mail was gone. This club rat was… okay, he was hot. Jared followed him to the club watched the way he moved to the beat even when he was showing his ID and paying the cover. Jared waited ten minutes before going in.
Jensen spotted him within minutes but Jared refused to make eye contact. Instead he just watched as Jensen danced with seemingly everybody, until one hand came out to claim him. Jensen smiled, looked up and then shook his head, pushing the guy away. Jared watched, fascinated as Jensen picked someone from the myriad of admirers and pulled him closer. What they did next was dancing, because their clothes were on, but that was really the only reason. He whispered in Jensen's ear and Jensen laughed but shook his head again.
Jared couldn’t stop watching as several good looking well built men made offers and Jensen shook his head.
One guy seemed to tower over Jensen, big hands pulling him forward and when he whispered in Jensen's ear, Jensen nodded and took his hand, leading him out of the club.
Jared ordered another drink and sighed. Jensen got what he wanted, was going to get more of what he wanted. He nodded to himself and went home.
Jensen had felt Jared's eyes on him but then there was the hot press of bodies and offers of a quickie in the alley, a blowjob in his Honda, none of them were what he wanted. He kept dancing, not wanting the night to end, and then, just a half hour before closing, a tall man with floppy brown hair and a big hands offered to take him home for the night and Jensen knew this was the one for tonight. He nodded and led the guy out,
They were back at the guy’s place, his name was Scott, and Jensen couldn’t care less. The kissed while Jensen was efficiently peeled of his clothes. Scott pushed him backwards onto the bed and Jensen smiled, perched on his elbows.
Scott grabbed the lube and condoms and tossed them next to Jensen. “Wanna get ready for me?”
Jensen shrugged and slicked two fingers getting himself wet but not stretching too much. He like that burn of entry, wanted to feel it. he was facing the headboard and then Scott was naked and behind him, pushing into him, rough and just right and Jensen let him push him down into the pillows, holding him there long enough to induce panic and then letting him go, fucking him hard, slapping his ass as he did, like the guy had learned to fuck in some bad porno.
Jensen moaned like he was in a bad porno and then everything was synced up. Jensen reached down, jerking himself to the rhythm of Scott’s thrusts and when Scott slapped his ass again, particularly hard, calling him a whore, Jensen came.
He spent, all told, less than 45 minutes in Scott’s apartment. Jensen had to admit he was a bit surprised that Jared was nowhere to be seen when he was on the street. He walked back to his car, maybe limping a little, feeling totally slimy and ready for a shower. Once he was in his car he locked the doors lit a cigarette and drove home.
The next day Jared was everywhere he was but he never did catch him directly looking at him.
Jared watched Jensen almost unapologetically at this point. He made up statistics for his meetings, no one cared if graham crackers did better in the winter than the summer, and it’s a no brainer that they did. Who makes s’mores in august? Jensen seemed to be his full time job, or possibly obsession. It was hard to tell. He still sat at home contemplating his gun, but only 'til nine thirty, then he was in front of Jensen's building, waiting to follow him to whichever den of gay hedonism he was headed. Tonight though… Jared's body was thrumming. He wasn’t going to leave once Jensen picked a guy, he was gonna be there, waiting, knowing what Jensen was doing, he willed his erection down, knowing he was crossing another line, not caring.
Jensen let the guy push him against the closed front door, rolling his hips into him and dry humping him. Jensen had the height advantage although this guy had a solid 20lbs of muscle on him, didn’t matter. Wall sex wasn’t gonna work. He ducked to the side. “Bedroom?”
The guy smiled, “oh hell yeah.’
Jensen smiled back and let himself be led to a large room done all in white. He waited to be pushed back on the bed but the guy didn’t seem to want to go the aggressive route. Instead he shucked himself of clothing and fell back on the bed, crooking a finger. “c’mon, you wanna fuck me?”
Jensen almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t really looking for this tonight but okay, this is where he was. He sat on the guy’s hips, holding most of the weight on his knees, rubbing his ass over the guy’s cock. “You sure you don’t wanna fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, making small circles with his hips.
The guy, Warren, Walter, something with a W, gripped his biceps and flipped them over. “Oh yeah.”
Jensen smiled and let him inside, and when he’d come, and Walter had stripped the condom off in time to come all over his stomach and chest, he sighed contentedly. Ten minutes later he was dressed and back on the street. Ten blocks from his car. He had to admit he was surprised to see Jared there. Not upset, but surprised.
He walked back to his car and was not surprised this time when Jared's car was one of only four still in the lot.
He wanted to acknowledge him but that’s not the way this game worked.
And so it went. Jared watched Jensen during the day, and at night his focus was like a laser. He knew that some of the local crowd were aware that he was nothing more than a creepy stalker but he’d never so much as touched Jensen. There was no law against looking.
He sat in long meetings and rather than contemplating his own demise he wondered about Jensen, how he felt knowing he was so perfect, so wanted, so fucking hot. He wondered what it was like to have the kind of physical contact, not just the sex but the pre sex mauling that he saw on the dance floor. He knew others might judge Jensen for his choices but Jared thought he made brilliant choices. In his head he built scenarios of a future, an impossible future between himself and Jensen. A life where they ate together talked together and touched each other. He found himself picturing Jensen with light around him, a perfect being exuding a perfect light. It was the only light he could imagine in the darkness of his mind. That and gunfire.
Jared didn’t always follow Jensen to his tricks’, sometimes he went home, sometimes back to Jensen's car, most of the time he just went back to Jensen's apartment and waited for him to come home. Once he was safely inside Jared went home and slept contentedly knowing Jensen was fucked out and safely in his own bed.
It all went on for months. The both of them knowing but not talking about it. Jared finding a reason every evening not to pull the trigger and more often than not, it was that Jensen was waiting for him.
Jensen smiled and bit at the guy’s earlobe. “Or maybe, you wanna fuck me.”
The guy, Clint, Clay, something like that, pushed him away. “Or maybe you should just do what I tell you.”
Jensen's already hard cock got harder. “Yes sir.”
“This ain’t a game little boy.”
“No sir.” Jensen smiled up at… Clint, he was pretty sure it was Clint.
“Little slut on the dance floor then you’re gonna start calling the shots?”
“No sir.”
The guy back handed him and Jensen winced. fuck
“So get on the fucking bed and stop acting like you got a say in this.”
Jensen didn’t say anything but it didn’t prevent the next punch to land on his side. The guy, Clint, rode his cock while he held his thumbs over Jensen's windpipe. “Wanna have the best orgasm of your life?”
Jensen tried to nod but he couldn’t move his head or breathe. Eventually Clint let go, finished with him. And Jensen came with relief as his lungs gloried in the long restricted oxygen. He left the building quickly and was relieved Jared wasn’t there. He was probably waiting at his building. Jensen kept his face in shadow and iced down his bruises as soon as he was safely inside.
The next day he kept his head down and his collar buttoned.
Jared was stuck in a meeting all morning, because what could possibly be more important than yellow cake mix and the projected need to host a recipe contest featuring the item to remind people that yellow cake mix is versatile.
He barely made it to his office before Jensen delivered his mail.
He hadn’t planned to ever talk to Jensen but when he saw him with a bruise on that perfect face he pulled Jensen into his office and shut the door.
“Wha… Jared, what are you…” Jensen looked terrified
Jared didn’t care he moved in closer stroking the bruise and suddenly pulling at the collar of his shirt, opening it to his waist looking at the thumbprints on his neck, on the knuckle marks on his abdomen.
Jensen glared at Jared. “You can be my creepy stalker but that means hands off.”
“Hands off? Is that what you told Clint last night? Because if so, he’s got a problem with directions.”
“What’s it to you?”
Jared felt utterly confused. what was it to him? he sat down on one of the chairs across from his desk. “You’re Jensen.”
“I know that.”
“You’re … perfect. I need you to be perfect.”
“You… you … what?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair “I need you to be okay.”
“That’s not what you said.” Jensen was standing as if he’d been glued to the door, his shirt still hanging open, his hands pressed against the fake wood. “You said perfect. What if I’m not perfect? What if I’m just a club slut?”
“Don’t say that about yourself!” Jared roared it and Jensen stared at him.
“Cool it man, someone’s gonna come in here.” He started buttoning up his shirt. “I like when you watch. You can watch from up close if you want. I’ll find a guy who’s willing to let you be there too. But you gotta calm down, but don’t act like you know me”
Jared was looking right at him. “Jensen Ross Ackles, born on March 1, 1985, in Dallas, Texas, to actor Alan Ackles and Donna Shaffer. He grew up in Richardson, Texas, together with his older brother, Joshua, and a younger sister, Mackenzie.
Jensen graduated from Dartmouth Elementary School in 1997, he graduated from Apollo Junior High School in 2000, and LV Berkner High School in 2003. Attended Collin County Community College 2004-2006, Associates of Arts in Business Management
Mail room clerk, Tandine Corp, 7/2006 – 10/2006
Copier Technician, Jules and Crockett, Inc. 11/2006 – 3/2007
Dispatcher, Brentwood Courier Svcs. LLC. 5/2007 – 9/2007
Document router, Mireware, Inc. 11/2007 – 3/2008
Employed here 6/2008 in the Mailroom…”
“Dude, did you memorize my employee file?”
Jared nodded.
“You are messed up.”
Jared nodded again.
Jensen tilted his head and seemed to be considering Jared from some new angle. There was a knock at the door. “Look, I have mail to deliver, after work, we could… have dinner?”
Jared nodded, his thumbs burning where they’d touched Jensen's skin. “Yeah, okay.”
Jensen tucked his shirt back in and let himself out of the office. One of his colleagues came in but Jared was having difficulty concentrating. Finally he excused himself and went to the men’s room to splash some cold water on his face.
Jensen's heart was racing, he was breathing hard and sweating. Holy fuck, Jared had talked to him. Jared had touched him. Jared was fucking crazy.
He had no idea what had brought on the dinner invitation. He didn’t want to fuck Jared, He didn’t. What they had, this thing they had, it was fragile and he didn’t want sex to get in the way. It was nice, feeling like he had someone looking at him. it was a little nice to think someone noticed the bruises, even if Jared's primary concern was that someone broke his toy. The day flew by in a rush or speculation and anxiety.
They met at Jensen's car. “So, dinner?”
“I can cook for you.”
“I don’t know if that’s… I’m not sure…”
“I won’t touch you.” Jared pointed at the marks on Jensen's body. “I’d never do… that to you.”
“Okay, so, dinner.”
Jared's apartment was no nicer than Jensen's. The neighborhood might have been a little safer, but only a little. Jared didn’t touch him. He moved straight to the small galley kitchen when they got inside and started pulling out ingredients. Jensen stopped cold. “Jared.”
“Hmmm?” He was putting chicken into a bowl pouring olive oil and something else onto it.
“There’s a gun on your coffee table.”
“Don’t touch it. It’s loaded.”
Jensen started to back towards the door. “I’m not really hungry, maybe we should just…”
Jared looked up and smiled in amusement. “It’s not for you. I wouldn’t shoot you.”
“Who would you shoot?” Jensen had no idea why he was still in the apartment.
“No one anyone will miss. Gonna fix the problems I made.”
Jensen had a sick feeling in his stomach. “What problems?”
Jared was staring at the chicken as he added salt pepper and spices to the marinade; his voice was low, almost hard to hear. “I built a life, built it wrong. Gonna, stop it before it’s wrong and long.”
“What?”
Jared looked up and smiled. “Gonna fix it, as soon as I can get the courage. Takes more than you’d think, ya know?” he shrugged.
“You. You’re gonna use it on yourself.”
“I only know two people. Me and you. And I’m not using it on you.”
And it all came crashing down. How much happier he’d been since this started, how much he needed Jared watching him, and now, how much Jared needed to watch.
“You’re the only light I have. So bright I can read by you. Bright and perfect. Gonna make sure you stay perfect. Not gonna let that…” Jared stopped chopping vegetables and gestured with the knife towards Jensen. “Not gonna let that happen again.”
And Jensen felt warm and thrilled and ignored how wrong it might be. Jared didn’t want to own him, like so many of the tricks who wanted “more” for him. He just wanted to make sure he was safe while still doing what he did. Living how he lived.
“You wanna watch out for me?”
“Yeah”
“But without the gun.”
“Gun’s not for you, or them. It’s mine.”
Jensen would, one day, address that, because it was wrong, but he had a feeling that as long as he let Jared in, just a little, he could share that light.
“I’m not crazy you know.”
Jensen smiled as Jared put the onions and red and green peppers into a sauté pan. They sizzled and Jared didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer.
Jensen answered him anyway. “I know. Not crazy, just maybe a little lost.”
“Sometimes it feels suffocating in here.”
“The apartment.”
“My head.”
“Yeah, but you know what makes that feeling go away?”
Jared nodded. “Loud music, watered down drinks and you, laughing and grinding up against some guy.”
“Do you wanna be that guy?” Jensen moved a little closer as Jared continued to stir the vegetables.
“Sometimes, but mostly, I want you to have that light. Don’t want to give you darkness.”
“You can’t, it’s not contagious.”
“Is, I’ve had boyfriends. They leave because of the dark.”
“I won’t leave.”
Jared turned and met Jensen’s eyes. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Well that’ll work out then, huh.”
“Yeah. Don’t have you; can’t lose you.”
Jared was getting used to the new schedule. He had two hours after work and then Jensen came over. They had dinner and went out to whatever club Jensen wanted. Sometimes Jared watched while some guy fucked Jensen against a wall or a dumpster, or Jensen blew someone in the bathroom and Jared could see the halo of light around the both of them when Jensen was working some guy’s cock, and sometimes, Jensen would come over after dancing with a guy. “He wants you to watch.” And Jared paid both their tabs and followed in Jensen's car. He watched Jensen get fucked in twenty different positions, and felt his heart beat faster with love, with ideas that weren’t about ways to make it stop beating.
Some nights he’d fall asleep in Jensen's bed waiting for him to finish showering and wake up in the morning with Jensen curled around him, and surprisingly the light didn’t diminish. Jared's dark wasn’t as strong as Jensen's light.
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Author:Vamphile
Pairing:J2
Rating: R
Word Count: 4300 +/-
Summary Jared's kinda a stalker, Jensen doesn’t particularly mind
A/N: I have no idea where this came from.
Graphics by:
brianslave68 The End of The Tunnel
Jared considered his options while keeping a semi-interested expression on his face. There were pills, but that was iffy at best, although he thought his combination of sedatives and muscle relaxants would do the trick. There was good old fashioned wrist slitting but that hurt, plus being found naked in a tub full of blood was a little melodramatic for his tastes. There was throwing himself off a building but he was afraid of a) pussying out and b) one of those very special moments when a cop tried to talk him down. In the end he came to the same conclusion he always did. Bullet to the brain. He had the gun, he’d tasted the barrel he just hadn’t pulled the trigger yet.
He was thinking about why again when he realized that the three other men at the table were looking to him. He smiled and faked his way through the rest of the meeting. Yeah, a bullet to the brain had to be better than strategizing how to get corn flakes on an endcap in supermarkets. Were there people who didn’t know what cornflakes were? He poured himself another cup of coffee before disappearing back into his office, hopefully to remain alone with his thoughts and PowerPoint presentations for the rest of the day. It was eleven am.
Jensen loved his job. He wasn’t supposed to. He knew that. No one liked working in the mailroom. That’s the crap job you use to pay your dues, but he liked it. He liked sorting things, he like that when he filled his cart to deliver the mail no one bothered him, no one even noticed him, and most of the time, he was just delivering them to other boxes, not even cubicles. If he timed it right he could go the whole day without talking to anyone and if he went the whole week with zero employee interaction, he called it a win. He needed the money; he liked the time to think. He didn’t expect or desire to be friends with any of them. His life was all about ten pm to two am. What he did here was just a means to an end.
Some of the larger offices had boxes on the door for incoming mail. J. Padalecki was one of those offices. Jensen dropped the mail in the box and checked for outgoing correspondence. There wasn’t any.
He moved on.
On Wednesday Jared was stuck in a meeting again. Strategizing about cake frosting, and the term icing vs. frosting in different regions of the country. He suggested they create a label that says frosting on one side and icing on the other and let the stores decide which side faced out.
Everyone thought he was brilliant. He thinks there’s something fundamentally stupid about them and their serious concern over cans of flavored sugar.
Back in his office he was creating a graph depicting the significant bump in sales experienced by stores who make his company’s brand of popcorn a featured item. There is no significant bump, but he made the scale in tens rather than hundreds and suddenly the jump is noticeable and attractive.
He heard a cheerful whistle just before the sound of someone messing with his inbox. Through the small glass panels on either side of his office door he saw a man, good shoulders and a comfortable smile that seems to always be there. He wonders, uncharitably if he’s possibly retarded, or in some other way deficient. No one can work here and be that happy. He opened the door and reached for his mail, staring at the mail clerk’s receding figure. Huh.
Jensen was looking forward to tonight, so much that he didn’t bother to think about being quiet and keeping a low profile. He hummed and whistled, returned automatic smiles with a real one. He had found a new club last night and tonight, he was going to dance until someone made him an offer he didn’t want to refuse. Tonight he’d have his pick of hot guys he’d never met and may never meet again. He didn’t notice Jared noticing him, but his mind wasn’t on J. Padalecki. He’s already delivered his mail. He moved on to the fifth floor.
Jared had been watching Jensen for two weeks now. Casually observing him around the office. He didn’t usually whistle and smile. That had apparently been an anomaly. He was for the most part, silent. Not stealthy, not obviously avoidant but clearly not a social butterfly. He avoided any group of people, not matter how small, took the long way around the floor if the cubicle dwellers had assembled to bitch about the company, or spouses, or whatever the fuck they bitched about.
Jensen was almost graceful about it. He clearly found it a challenge more than anything. Jared had graduated, after a week of watching him circle the fourth floor, to casually getting coffee on the second floor, declaring the copier the best on the third floor and finding some petty reason to be on the fifth floor. Yeah, he’d taken to following Jensen but it wasn’t enough.
He went home and sat, watching mindless television and holding the gun in his hand, flipping it over and over, staring at the glint of aquatic light from the television on the barrel. He pressed the barrel under his jaw, felt the cold metal against his skin, closed his eyes and imagined it all going away. He considered his empty useless existence. He ensured the increased sale of cheerios. He had given up, years ago, on making a relationship work and now, he has an empty, ugly one bedroom apartment and a generic office space in a pointless job to show for all his work to get through college.
Or maybe this is how everyone lived and it just bothered him more.
Didn’t matter. He was gonna… and then he put the gun down, because images of Jensen. That was his name; Jensen Ackles, flashed and he remembered that there was one bright light in this dimly lit life. There was Jensen.
Jensen was aware that J. Padalecki (Jared, the J stood for Jared), was watching him, like hardcore; almost stalking him. He did some checking. Jared couldn’t fire him, and would have to go to great pains to get him fired. Jared didn’t seem to want him to go though. The way he looked at Jensen. Jensen knew that look; he just usually got it when he was in his club gear. Ripped jeans, tight t-shirt that ended up tucked into the back of his jeans within an hour, product in his hair and a smudge of eyeliner just to remind the guys at the club that he was more than a hot ass, he was also a pretty face.
He didn’t mind Jared watching at work. He’ll admit he was disconcerted to find him at the club his eyes still only on Jensen until Jensen looked back. But even finding him at the club didn’t upset him. Jensen liked being watched. Maybe more than was healthy. His mother always accused him of wanting to be the center of attention. He never understood why that was a bad thing. He liked people to watch him, and yet most of the time, he felt invisible. He used to try to get his attention fix at work but lost too many jobs for bringing the wrong kind of attention down on his head, and now he knew to avoid everyone, act invisible and you become invisible. So he did, and it worked, except for Jared. Jared Padalecki couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him and Jensen figured that however fucked up it was, he was just fine with it. Jensen made brief eye contact with Jared.
Jensen was staring right at him. Jared wasn’t even sure what he was doing here. All he knew was that he’d become a bit of a stalker and for the first time in years he was comfortable with the role he’d created. He’d followed Jensen home from work, desperate to know what made him so content in his life, and five hours later Jensen had come out looking… not like Jensen. There was product in his hair, and tight jeans and the kid who delivered the mail was gone. This club rat was… okay, he was hot. Jared followed him to the club watched the way he moved to the beat even when he was showing his ID and paying the cover. Jared waited ten minutes before going in.
Jensen spotted him within minutes but Jared refused to make eye contact. Instead he just watched as Jensen danced with seemingly everybody, until one hand came out to claim him. Jensen smiled, looked up and then shook his head, pushing the guy away. Jared watched, fascinated as Jensen picked someone from the myriad of admirers and pulled him closer. What they did next was dancing, because their clothes were on, but that was really the only reason. He whispered in Jensen's ear and Jensen laughed but shook his head again.
Jared couldn’t stop watching as several good looking well built men made offers and Jensen shook his head.
One guy seemed to tower over Jensen, big hands pulling him forward and when he whispered in Jensen's ear, Jensen nodded and took his hand, leading him out of the club.
Jared ordered another drink and sighed. Jensen got what he wanted, was going to get more of what he wanted. He nodded to himself and went home.
Jensen had felt Jared's eyes on him but then there was the hot press of bodies and offers of a quickie in the alley, a blowjob in his Honda, none of them were what he wanted. He kept dancing, not wanting the night to end, and then, just a half hour before closing, a tall man with floppy brown hair and a big hands offered to take him home for the night and Jensen knew this was the one for tonight. He nodded and led the guy out,
They were back at the guy’s place, his name was Scott, and Jensen couldn’t care less. The kissed while Jensen was efficiently peeled of his clothes. Scott pushed him backwards onto the bed and Jensen smiled, perched on his elbows.
Scott grabbed the lube and condoms and tossed them next to Jensen. “Wanna get ready for me?”
Jensen shrugged and slicked two fingers getting himself wet but not stretching too much. He like that burn of entry, wanted to feel it. he was facing the headboard and then Scott was naked and behind him, pushing into him, rough and just right and Jensen let him push him down into the pillows, holding him there long enough to induce panic and then letting him go, fucking him hard, slapping his ass as he did, like the guy had learned to fuck in some bad porno.
Jensen moaned like he was in a bad porno and then everything was synced up. Jensen reached down, jerking himself to the rhythm of Scott’s thrusts and when Scott slapped his ass again, particularly hard, calling him a whore, Jensen came.
He spent, all told, less than 45 minutes in Scott’s apartment. Jensen had to admit he was a bit surprised that Jared was nowhere to be seen when he was on the street. He walked back to his car, maybe limping a little, feeling totally slimy and ready for a shower. Once he was in his car he locked the doors lit a cigarette and drove home.
The next day Jared was everywhere he was but he never did catch him directly looking at him.
Jared watched Jensen almost unapologetically at this point. He made up statistics for his meetings, no one cared if graham crackers did better in the winter than the summer, and it’s a no brainer that they did. Who makes s’mores in august? Jensen seemed to be his full time job, or possibly obsession. It was hard to tell. He still sat at home contemplating his gun, but only 'til nine thirty, then he was in front of Jensen's building, waiting to follow him to whichever den of gay hedonism he was headed. Tonight though… Jared's body was thrumming. He wasn’t going to leave once Jensen picked a guy, he was gonna be there, waiting, knowing what Jensen was doing, he willed his erection down, knowing he was crossing another line, not caring.
Jensen let the guy push him against the closed front door, rolling his hips into him and dry humping him. Jensen had the height advantage although this guy had a solid 20lbs of muscle on him, didn’t matter. Wall sex wasn’t gonna work. He ducked to the side. “Bedroom?”
The guy smiled, “oh hell yeah.’
Jensen smiled back and let himself be led to a large room done all in white. He waited to be pushed back on the bed but the guy didn’t seem to want to go the aggressive route. Instead he shucked himself of clothing and fell back on the bed, crooking a finger. “c’mon, you wanna fuck me?”
Jensen almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t really looking for this tonight but okay, this is where he was. He sat on the guy’s hips, holding most of the weight on his knees, rubbing his ass over the guy’s cock. “You sure you don’t wanna fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, making small circles with his hips.
The guy, Warren, Walter, something with a W, gripped his biceps and flipped them over. “Oh yeah.”
Jensen smiled and let him inside, and when he’d come, and Walter had stripped the condom off in time to come all over his stomach and chest, he sighed contentedly. Ten minutes later he was dressed and back on the street. Ten blocks from his car. He had to admit he was surprised to see Jared there. Not upset, but surprised.
He walked back to his car and was not surprised this time when Jared's car was one of only four still in the lot.
He wanted to acknowledge him but that’s not the way this game worked.
And so it went. Jared watched Jensen during the day, and at night his focus was like a laser. He knew that some of the local crowd were aware that he was nothing more than a creepy stalker but he’d never so much as touched Jensen. There was no law against looking.
He sat in long meetings and rather than contemplating his own demise he wondered about Jensen, how he felt knowing he was so perfect, so wanted, so fucking hot. He wondered what it was like to have the kind of physical contact, not just the sex but the pre sex mauling that he saw on the dance floor. He knew others might judge Jensen for his choices but Jared thought he made brilliant choices. In his head he built scenarios of a future, an impossible future between himself and Jensen. A life where they ate together talked together and touched each other. He found himself picturing Jensen with light around him, a perfect being exuding a perfect light. It was the only light he could imagine in the darkness of his mind. That and gunfire.
Jared didn’t always follow Jensen to his tricks’, sometimes he went home, sometimes back to Jensen's car, most of the time he just went back to Jensen's apartment and waited for him to come home. Once he was safely inside Jared went home and slept contentedly knowing Jensen was fucked out and safely in his own bed.
It all went on for months. The both of them knowing but not talking about it. Jared finding a reason every evening not to pull the trigger and more often than not, it was that Jensen was waiting for him.
Jensen smiled and bit at the guy’s earlobe. “Or maybe, you wanna fuck me.”
The guy, Clint, Clay, something like that, pushed him away. “Or maybe you should just do what I tell you.”
Jensen's already hard cock got harder. “Yes sir.”
“This ain’t a game little boy.”
“No sir.” Jensen smiled up at… Clint, he was pretty sure it was Clint.
“Little slut on the dance floor then you’re gonna start calling the shots?”
“No sir.”
The guy back handed him and Jensen winced. fuck
“So get on the fucking bed and stop acting like you got a say in this.”
Jensen didn’t say anything but it didn’t prevent the next punch to land on his side. The guy, Clint, rode his cock while he held his thumbs over Jensen's windpipe. “Wanna have the best orgasm of your life?”
Jensen tried to nod but he couldn’t move his head or breathe. Eventually Clint let go, finished with him. And Jensen came with relief as his lungs gloried in the long restricted oxygen. He left the building quickly and was relieved Jared wasn’t there. He was probably waiting at his building. Jensen kept his face in shadow and iced down his bruises as soon as he was safely inside.
The next day he kept his head down and his collar buttoned.
Jared was stuck in a meeting all morning, because what could possibly be more important than yellow cake mix and the projected need to host a recipe contest featuring the item to remind people that yellow cake mix is versatile.
He barely made it to his office before Jensen delivered his mail.
He hadn’t planned to ever talk to Jensen but when he saw him with a bruise on that perfect face he pulled Jensen into his office and shut the door.
“Wha… Jared, what are you…” Jensen looked terrified
Jared didn’t care he moved in closer stroking the bruise and suddenly pulling at the collar of his shirt, opening it to his waist looking at the thumbprints on his neck, on the knuckle marks on his abdomen.
Jensen glared at Jared. “You can be my creepy stalker but that means hands off.”
“Hands off? Is that what you told Clint last night? Because if so, he’s got a problem with directions.”
“What’s it to you?”
Jared felt utterly confused. what was it to him? he sat down on one of the chairs across from his desk. “You’re Jensen.”
“I know that.”
“You’re … perfect. I need you to be perfect.”
“You… you … what?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair “I need you to be okay.”
“That’s not what you said.” Jensen was standing as if he’d been glued to the door, his shirt still hanging open, his hands pressed against the fake wood. “You said perfect. What if I’m not perfect? What if I’m just a club slut?”
“Don’t say that about yourself!” Jared roared it and Jensen stared at him.
“Cool it man, someone’s gonna come in here.” He started buttoning up his shirt. “I like when you watch. You can watch from up close if you want. I’ll find a guy who’s willing to let you be there too. But you gotta calm down, but don’t act like you know me”
Jared was looking right at him. “Jensen Ross Ackles, born on March 1, 1985, in Dallas, Texas, to actor Alan Ackles and Donna Shaffer. He grew up in Richardson, Texas, together with his older brother, Joshua, and a younger sister, Mackenzie.
Jensen graduated from Dartmouth Elementary School in 1997, he graduated from Apollo Junior High School in 2000, and LV Berkner High School in 2003. Attended Collin County Community College 2004-2006, Associates of Arts in Business Management
Mail room clerk, Tandine Corp, 7/2006 – 10/2006
Copier Technician, Jules and Crockett, Inc. 11/2006 – 3/2007
Dispatcher, Brentwood Courier Svcs. LLC. 5/2007 – 9/2007
Document router, Mireware, Inc. 11/2007 – 3/2008
Employed here 6/2008 in the Mailroom…”
“Dude, did you memorize my employee file?”
Jared nodded.
“You are messed up.”
Jared nodded again.
Jensen tilted his head and seemed to be considering Jared from some new angle. There was a knock at the door. “Look, I have mail to deliver, after work, we could… have dinner?”
Jared nodded, his thumbs burning where they’d touched Jensen's skin. “Yeah, okay.”
Jensen tucked his shirt back in and let himself out of the office. One of his colleagues came in but Jared was having difficulty concentrating. Finally he excused himself and went to the men’s room to splash some cold water on his face.
Jensen's heart was racing, he was breathing hard and sweating. Holy fuck, Jared had talked to him. Jared had touched him. Jared was fucking crazy.
He had no idea what had brought on the dinner invitation. He didn’t want to fuck Jared, He didn’t. What they had, this thing they had, it was fragile and he didn’t want sex to get in the way. It was nice, feeling like he had someone looking at him. it was a little nice to think someone noticed the bruises, even if Jared's primary concern was that someone broke his toy. The day flew by in a rush or speculation and anxiety.
They met at Jensen's car. “So, dinner?”
“I can cook for you.”
“I don’t know if that’s… I’m not sure…”
“I won’t touch you.” Jared pointed at the marks on Jensen's body. “I’d never do… that to you.”
“Okay, so, dinner.”
Jared's apartment was no nicer than Jensen's. The neighborhood might have been a little safer, but only a little. Jared didn’t touch him. He moved straight to the small galley kitchen when they got inside and started pulling out ingredients. Jensen stopped cold. “Jared.”
“Hmmm?” He was putting chicken into a bowl pouring olive oil and something else onto it.
“There’s a gun on your coffee table.”
“Don’t touch it. It’s loaded.”
Jensen started to back towards the door. “I’m not really hungry, maybe we should just…”
Jared looked up and smiled in amusement. “It’s not for you. I wouldn’t shoot you.”
“Who would you shoot?” Jensen had no idea why he was still in the apartment.
“No one anyone will miss. Gonna fix the problems I made.”
Jensen had a sick feeling in his stomach. “What problems?”
Jared was staring at the chicken as he added salt pepper and spices to the marinade; his voice was low, almost hard to hear. “I built a life, built it wrong. Gonna, stop it before it’s wrong and long.”
“What?”
Jared looked up and smiled. “Gonna fix it, as soon as I can get the courage. Takes more than you’d think, ya know?” he shrugged.
“You. You’re gonna use it on yourself.”
“I only know two people. Me and you. And I’m not using it on you.”
And it all came crashing down. How much happier he’d been since this started, how much he needed Jared watching him, and now, how much Jared needed to watch.
“You’re the only light I have. So bright I can read by you. Bright and perfect. Gonna make sure you stay perfect. Not gonna let that…” Jared stopped chopping vegetables and gestured with the knife towards Jensen. “Not gonna let that happen again.”
And Jensen felt warm and thrilled and ignored how wrong it might be. Jared didn’t want to own him, like so many of the tricks who wanted “more” for him. He just wanted to make sure he was safe while still doing what he did. Living how he lived.
“You wanna watch out for me?”
“Yeah”
“But without the gun.”
“Gun’s not for you, or them. It’s mine.”
Jensen would, one day, address that, because it was wrong, but he had a feeling that as long as he let Jared in, just a little, he could share that light.
“I’m not crazy you know.”
Jensen smiled as Jared put the onions and red and green peppers into a sauté pan. They sizzled and Jared didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer.
Jensen answered him anyway. “I know. Not crazy, just maybe a little lost.”
“Sometimes it feels suffocating in here.”
“The apartment.”
“My head.”
“Yeah, but you know what makes that feeling go away?”
Jared nodded. “Loud music, watered down drinks and you, laughing and grinding up against some guy.”
“Do you wanna be that guy?” Jensen moved a little closer as Jared continued to stir the vegetables.
“Sometimes, but mostly, I want you to have that light. Don’t want to give you darkness.”
“You can’t, it’s not contagious.”
“Is, I’ve had boyfriends. They leave because of the dark.”
“I won’t leave.”
Jared turned and met Jensen’s eyes. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Well that’ll work out then, huh.”
“Yeah. Don’t have you; can’t lose you.”
Jared was getting used to the new schedule. He had two hours after work and then Jensen came over. They had dinner and went out to whatever club Jensen wanted. Sometimes Jared watched while some guy fucked Jensen against a wall or a dumpster, or Jensen blew someone in the bathroom and Jared could see the halo of light around the both of them when Jensen was working some guy’s cock, and sometimes, Jensen would come over after dancing with a guy. “He wants you to watch.” And Jared paid both their tabs and followed in Jensen's car. He watched Jensen get fucked in twenty different positions, and felt his heart beat faster with love, with ideas that weren’t about ways to make it stop beating.
Some nights he’d fall asleep in Jensen's bed waiting for him to finish showering and wake up in the morning with Jensen curled around him, and surprisingly the light didn’t diminish. Jared's dark wasn’t as strong as Jensen's light.
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