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When he sees the shitty apartment block Jensen's living in for himself, Jared's actually appalled. And kind of hurt. Jensen would prefer to live here, with rattling plumbing and weird smells, than with Jared. Jeff told him it was bad, but Jared didn't understand how bad 'bad' was until he's standing outside it in person, taking it in, in all its dilapidated, health-code violating glory.
If Jensen hadn't been too proud to ask, Jared would have paid for him to have better.
That's a lie, of course. If Jensen had asked, Jared would have wanted to know what he wanted the money for, and if Jensen had told him, Jared would never have let him go.
Jeff's waiting by the car, hands tucked in his pockets and the collar of his overcoat turned up against the chill fall breeze.
"I won't be long," Jared says, and Jeff rolls his eyes and smirks but he's too well disciplined to outright laugh in Jared's face. They go way back, further back even than Jared and Jensen, but Jeff never forgets that Jared is his boss's son.
Inside the block is every bit as bad as the exterior promised. The elevator isn't working, naturally, so Jared takes the stairs at a brisk jog. It's quiet, at least, he supposes. No thundering bass line or muffled domestic disputes to disturb Jensen's studying. Jensen gets especially irritable when he's not allowed to concentrate. It's just too bad for him that Jared's planning on being a pretty big interruption.
Jared raps lightly on the door and waits. Jensen pulls the door open on chain, and his first instinct when he sees Jared is to smile, just like always. Jared sees that smile, knows it proves him right on everything, and then Jensen realizes why Jared showing up on his doorstep is nothing to smile about. A frown takes the smile's place.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Jared wedges his foot against the door and pushes, just to test the strength of the chain. Then he lazily raises an eyebrow. "Don't you mean 'how the hell did you find me'? 'Cause you did a good job of running. You were pretty damn thorough in hiding yourself."
He watches the roll of Jensen's throat as he swallows, follows the flick of his tongue over his lips and his eyes narrow, linger a moment on Jensen's mouth.
"No," says Jensen, careful and slow and pissed off. "I mean, what the hell are you doing here? 'Cause I know you're smart enough to figure out that if I didn't tell you where I was going, it meant I didn't want you coming after me."
Jared's smirk is tight and pointed. "That hurts, sweetheart," he says, and manages to pass it off as a joke, as nothing but teasing. He rattles the door. "Let me in," he says briskly. "We gotta talk."
"How about no?" says Jensen, not budging an inch. "I got an essay to write and three chapters to get through."
"It's about your boyfriend."
Jensen's eyes go flat. With a disgusted huff of breath, Jensen shakes his head, like he's as pissed with himself as he is with Jared. "Oh fuck off, Jared." The words are barely said before the door's shut in Jared's face.
Jared eyes the closed door. He runs a fingertip down its surface thoughtfully. "It's important, Jensen," he calls out, cocks his head to the door to hear Jensen's response.
"Go to hell, fuckface." Jensen's moved away from the door, but not walked away altogether.
Satisfied, Jared smiles, then slams his shoulder hard into the door. The force of it splinters the wood easily and, as it gives, Jared stumbles into the apartment. While Jensen stares at him, horrified, Jared dusts his shoulder off and pushes what's left of the door to behind him.
"Jared! You broke my door!" Jensen sounds more surprised than angry.
"Like I said, we gotta talk."
"You broke my door, you fucker!" Now Jensen sounds angry.
"I'll get it fixed," Jared insists. "It's only a door, Jen. I'll send someone around this afternoon."
Jensen holds up a hand. "No. No, I don't want you 'sending someone around'. I'll find someone to fix it, you'll fucking pay for it."
"Whatever you want," Jared agrees soothingly. He puts his hands up in surrender. "But we have to talk."
Jensen folds his arms over his chest. He's smaller than Jared, and the sweatpants he's wearing hang low enough that Jared can see the jutting cut of his hipbones. Jared could take him down with one hand tied behind his back, could take him down and get his dick in that sweet little ass, fuck it until Jensen was wriggling and screaming, all lovely and bare. They play-wrestled often enough as kids for Jared to be sure of it.
But Jensen's never had to rely on greater strength or body weight to make Jared do what he wants.
"We're not talking about Dane," says Jensen.
"We have to."
Jared examines Jensen's apartment. It's kept as clean and tidy as you can keep a shithole. There are textbooks on the kitchen counter; one of them is lying open beside a half-empty cup of coffee. Through an open door, Jared can make out the corner of Jensen's bed, before Jensen moves to stand in front of him, smoothly blocking his view.
"Well?" When Jared doesn't speak immediately – is still thinking about Jensen's bed, and Jensen in it – Jensen huffs again. "Look, I don't have time for this, Jay. I told you, I've got an essay-"
"He's Vaughan's nephew," says Jared.
Jensen stops dead. The angry hunch of his shoulders drops uncertainly.
Jared presses on. "You know Vaughan. From the west coast. Drugs, hookers and protection rackets Vaughan. You remember him?"
Jensen's eyes have gone wide, and Jared revels in his aching vulnerability. He settles on the couch, legs an open sprawl, and watches Jensen.
"He came to the house summer before last to see Dad. You and me were in the pool, and he stood and watched us. And you made us go inside because you said he gave you the creeps." Jared idly examines the stack of unpaid bills on the arm of the couch, before he looks back up at Jensen with a poisonous smile. "That's his nephew you're letting dick you. You think about that next time he's fucking you stupid. That's who you're letting roll you around the sheets."
Jensen's jaw flickers. He grits his teeth. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Jared leans forward, fingers steepled and forearms resting on his thighs. "You're not sure, are you? He could be anyone. I mean, you wouldn't know, would you? It's not like you've told him who you are, now is it?"
"But I'm not anyone," Jensen protests in a murmur.
Jared's brows draw together in a frown. "Yeah, you are. You're mine. You're my best friend, Jensen."
The look on Jensen's face is a stunning combination of heartbreak and amusement. "You possessive bastard," he says finally. "He's not Vaughan's nephew, is he?"
Jared dimples at him. "No," he agrees. "Just a regular guy. But he could have been."
He gets to his feet, and Jensen stays where he is and lets Jared approach. He skims his knuckles along Jensen's cheekbone, still in awe after all these years at how sweetly pretty Jensen is. At Jared's touch, Jensen's face tilts imperceptibly towards him, his eyes going heavy-lidded. He's breathing a little faster; Jared can see the rise and fall of his chest beneath his soft cotton t-shirt.
Fascinated, Jared watches Jensen wet his lips and try to pull himself together while Jared keeps on touching him.
"Jared. I can’t. I've got a boyfriend now," Jensen says quietly, sounding almost helpless. Jared should take pity. He knows Jensen's asking him to be kind.
"I don't care," Jared tells him instead. He touches his lips to Jensen's, just brushes their mouths together, and when Jensen sways towards him, Jared puts his arm around his waist to catch him. "I'm gonna bend you over this couch and I'm gonna fuck you bare, Jensen. I wanna come inside you. That okay with you?"
Jensen ducks his head in a nod, apparently unable to take his eyes off Jared, not even to blink. There's a high pink flush along his cheeks and his eyes are a flecked dark green.
"You gonna use me hard, Jared? Gonna leave me all wet?"
Jared groans, puts their mouths together again and fucks his tongue in deep between Jensen's softly parted lips. Jensen grips his shoulder and arches up into him, opening up for him, just like he's going to spread it for Jared when he wants to get inside him.
It feels good holding onto Jensen again, feeling his hard, compact little body pressed up against Jared's. He walks them backwards, so he can bear Jensen down onto the couch under him. His cock is already hard between his legs, stiff and desperate, and Jared knows, with unquestionable certainty, that he's not in control of himself any more. There's no doubt in his mind that he's going to fuck Jensen, and he's going to keep on fucking him until Jensen's a tender little wreck beneath him. He's going to get him so well-fucked Jensen won't even be able to beg.
He grips the short crop of hair at the back of Jensen's head and uses the handhold to force Jensen down over the arm of the couch. Jensen cries out, but only in surprise; he goes down easily, lets Jared bend him so far over his face is buried in the cushions and his bare feet are up on tiptoes. He claws at the cushions desperately, turns his face to press his cheek down, and he's flushed and breathless and so fucking beautiful it hurts somewhere deep inside Jared's chest.
The first time they did this, they were awkward horny fifteen year olds, and Jared was too turned on to remember to be gentle and Jensen wanted him too much for it to even occur to him to tell Jared to slow down.
Jared feels the same now. His hands are shaking. His breath is thick, ragged panting and the noise that comes out of him when he jerks Jensen's sweats down and sees his tight, round ass isn't even human.
He palms the flesh hungrily, squeezing and manhandling, because he just wants to bite and to suck and to bruise. Jensen's moaning and gasping into the couch, one arm wrapped around a stray cushion as it sounds like he's trying to remember to breathe. He twitches as Jared spreads his cheeks apart and rubs a fingertip meaningfully over Jensen's tight little hole. Though it is only a twitch, it's too much like struggling for Jared, so he catches Jensen's narrow hips in his hands and hauls him back into place, yanking him clean off his feet for a second as he better positions him to be fucked.
He kicks Jensen's legs wide apart, works his knee between Jensen's thighs and rubs while he gets his own fly undone. His free hand smoothes over the soft skin at the base of Jensen's spine, exposed where Jared's shoved up his t-shirt. He's only barely dressed, and Jared likes having him that way when he's still in suit and shirt, expensive pants pushed down just enough to get his big, thick dick out, already wet at the head.
He gets Jensen ready with nothing but spit and fingering, but Jensen's bucking back at him even before that minimal preparation is done.
"C'mon, Jay, don't screw around, put it in me already, just fuck me…"
Jared fucks his dick into Jensen's ass in slow, jerky thrusts that get Jensen outright sobbing into the cushion before he's even all the way in, because Jared's a big guy and even after all the times he's had Jensen like this, Jensen still takes it like a virgin, albeit a really hot, slutty one.
Jared thinks about the broken open door, about how anyone could look in and see him fucking Jensen's ass, his dick shoved into him and his hands on Jensen's hips to hold him down and make him take it. And they wouldn't know what it means, not really.
Unless they were a cop or a lawyer or a fellow lowlife, they probably wouldn't know who Jared is. And they almost certainly wouldn't know that the guy Jared's got pinned under him is the same quiet, publicly polite and privately wicked little boy that was Jared's best friend from the moment he was brought into the house.
This means the world to Jared. The whole damn world.
He ducks down, presses a kiss to the nape of Jensen's neck, before he grinds in punishingly, fucking his dick in deeper. He doesn't want Jensen able to walk straight after he's done with him. He wants Jensen to lie in bed and ache where Jared's been inside him.
Jared's dick slamming into Jensen's ass, the slap of his balls into the curve of flesh, sounds slick and intimate and dirty. He's driving breathy little grunts out of Jensen, like it's the only way Jensen's body can find space for how much of Jared's dick he's forcing into him. Jensen moves under him, writhing and twisting gracelessly, and all of it's to make it easier, better for Jared to ride him.
With his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest, Jared knows it's not going to be long. And he's so eager for it to happen. He wants to get Jensen soaked inside with his come, so that maybe the next time that pathetic, limp-dicked jerkoff that's goddamn blessed enough to be with Jensen gets inside him, he'll find Jensen still wet from what Jared's doing to him right now.
Jensen's crying out now, as Jared fucks him harder and faster, and Jared reaches under him, finds his cock stiff and hot pressed to the side of the couch. And when Jared touches him, takes him in his hand while he buries himself so deep in Jensen's ass, Jensen screams and shudders, and his come pulses over Jared's fingers.
He's so tight in that second, so tight that Jared's vision whites out for a second, at the heat of him and the bliss of being inside him. Then he comes, feels himself filling Jensen up with his load, so much of it that the slightest shift of Jared's hips, the slightest shift of his dick in Jensen's hole lets his come leak out down the back of Jensen's legs to drip wetly on the floor.
He's out of breath and still reeling, and he doesn't want to let go of Jensen. Neither of them moves. Jared's aware of Jensen under him, fingers flexing weakly against the cushion as he lies there, dazed. He's so perfect. So pretty and so smart and so fundamentally decent.
Jared combs his fingers through Jensen's hair, mindlessly affectionate, and kisses his neck again.
"Come home, Jensen," he says. "I could take care of you and you could be my better half and it'd all be awesome, just like it used to be. C'mon, come home. I don't want you to get hurt."
Jensen breathes until he sounds steady and even.
"If you don't want me to get hurt then maybe you shouldn't come back here again," he says into the silence.
He struggles a little, and, bewildered, Jared lets him up. Jensen curls in on himself almost immediately. He tugs his t-shirt down and drags his sweats up. Even as he's covering himself up, he's putting some distance between him and Jared.
"This… this can't happen again, you understand? I'm not part of that anymore. I can't take being part of it."
"Part of what?" Jared demands. "My life? Is that what you mean?"
Jensen shifts from one foot to the other, and Jared's gaze zeroes in immediately on where he knows his own come must be a sticky mess dribbling down Jensen's legs.
"You should go," says Jensen.
Jared does his fly up, sweeps his hair back off his face, but he's frowning, because Jensen won't look back at him. Jensen just stands there out of reach, eyes on the ground and his arms wrapped defensively around himself.
He knows better than to try touching Jensen but it still takes Jared a moment to make himself walk to the door.
He touches the splintered wood, then looks back up at Jensen, who is instantly looking somewhere else.
"Your door," says Jared. "I'll get it fixed."
Jensen shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."
"I'll pay for it," Jared insists.
"I said don't worry about it. Just go."
Jensen doesn't look at him again before he leaves. He just stands there in his sweats and t-shirt, wet and pretty and freshly-fucked, and refuses to look at Jared.
Jared takes the stairs down at a slow, measured pace, and by the time he reaches Jeff and the car, he thinks he's got it figured out.
Jeff looks him over and huffs a laugh. "I guess Jensen was pleased to see you then?" He shakes his head, laughing again to himself, and opens the rear car door for Jared to climb in. "How's he doing?"
Jared shrugs discontentedly and doesn't answer. Jeff doesn't push, just gets in behind the wheel and starts the engine. He flicks a backwards glance over his shoulder that doesn't quite reach Jared.
"You ready to go home?"
Jared shakes his head. "No," he says thoughtfully. "Take me to see the boyfriend. Dane or whoever."
There's a hesitation, Jeff's gaze flicking up to the rear view mirror. "Your father expects me to keep you outta trouble. He's not gonna be thrilled about you running the risk of bringing a murder rap down on your head just 'cause you don't like Jensen having a mind of his own."
"Nobody's gonna get murdered," says Jared, while he's straightening the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "Not this visit, anyway."
Jeff doesn't like it. That much is clear even in the roll of his deep sigh. Jared doesn't care. It's not Jeff's job to approve, just to do as he's told. He pulls out onto the street and Jared resists the urge to look back at the block, in case Jensen's watching him go.
Dane works a few afternoons a week at a coffee house downtime, because college is expensive and he's not rich, not like Jared is. Jensen's probably impressed by his work ethic, Jared thinks sourly.
They sit in the car and watch the people coming and going for a while, neither of them speaking.
Then Jeff looks back at him again. "You sure you wanna do this?"
Jared nods, and Jeff inclines his head towards a guy in the side alley and says, "Then that's him, taking the trash out."
Dane is tall, and built, and not completely unlike Jared, though Jared's never had to wear anything like the green and white striped apron Dane's got on. Jared studies him, tries to keep cool and calm, but all he can think about is that guy on top of Jensen, that guy in Jensen's bed, that guy kissing Jensen.
His hands are fists before he realises it. He takes an angrily shuddering breath and jerks the car door open. He doesn't have to look back to know Jeff is following close behind. Implacable and unmoveable, Jeff will take up the perfect spot to shield Jared's business from passers-by and to cut Dane off from any escape route.
"Hey! Dane, right?" Jared calls out, his long legs carrying him fast towards Dane. He's smiling but it's mean and Dane recognises it as such, because he tries backing up. But Jared's too quick, and he's too fucking pissed off and hurt to play games.
Jared gets him by the throat and the scruff of his neck, and hauls him up against the wall. A trashcan rattles at the scuffle, and Jeff clears his throat in mild rebuke to remind Jared not to cause too loud a scene.
Dane tries to shove him away but he's not like Jared – and maybe that's why Jensen picked him, a surface resemblance without any of the same substance below. Dane's probably never once in his life thrown a punch with the intention of having it connect. Not like Jared.
"What do you want, man?" Dane demands. There's a vein of anger there but it's too watered down by fear to be effective. For a moment, Jared is transfixed. How the hell could Jensen have thought to replace him with a guy like this?
"You know Jensen Ackles?" Jared says. And when Dane nods tremulously, Jared answers with a shake of his head. "Not anymore you don't. You don't call him, you don't speak to him. You see him walking towards you, you turn and walk in the other direction. You come so much as in shouting distance to him, and I'll know it. And I'll come back and I'll take your goddamn balls. You understand?"
Dane is staring at him, cringing, and Jared has to shake him to get an answer.
"Yeah! Yeah, I get it!"
"Good," says Jared, and lets him go. He thought he could manage without, that this would be enough, but it turns out he's not able to bring himself to leave without punching the guy in the face, just once but hard enough that he hopes that's his cheekbone he heard shatter.
While Dane collapses to the ground, crying and clutching his face, Jared shakes his aching hand out and drops in beside Jeff.
"Jensen's not stupid," Jeff says. He opens the car door, holds it open as he looks Jared in the eye and says, "He's gonna know this was you. And he's not gonna let it pass without some kind of comment, you know."
Jared is all smiles as he slides into the car. "That's the point, Jeff. That's the point."
As Jeff starts the car up once more to head to home, Jared pulls his cellphone out of his jacket pocket and waits for Jensen to call.