Panic sets in. "Is this about your shoe? Because I'm sorry-- well, I'm not sorry, but--"
Jensen laughs and passes a hand over his forehead. He's just come out of the shower and his hair is spiking where it's wet. "This isn't fair," he says.
"Huh?" The whole thing's so dreamlike.
"You've probably had my albums for years, you've seen me on a million interviews, you feel like you know me. So you've got a jillion expectations of me and I don't know what they are, because I just met you."
Jensen is talking nonsense. Jensen is talking to him, and Jared's eyes are on his arms, on the supple muscles he's seen on HDTV and actually run his hands over the screen and there they are --
"Can we skip that part?" Arms are coming closer, the whole body's coming closer, and HD had nothing on this. "I mean, can we pretend I've known you for years, too? Because just, I don't know, just for a moment there I thought I had. That's cheesy. I know."
Jared's jaw scrapes something that's probably very close to the floor. Jensen's hand scoops it back up.
"What's your name?" Jensen asks, and his voice rasps like the touch of rough cloth across Jared's ears.
"J-Jared."
"Jared," Jensen repeats, his hand still tucked under Jared's poor boneless jaw. "Look, I don't do this all the time."
Jared's eyes focus. "I know."
"Of course you know." Jensen laughs and shakes his head. "God, this is so awkward--" his eyes catch Jared's-- "I think you're hot. I saw you, and you touched me-- well, you grabbed my shoe-- but-- this must seem like such an entitled-rock-star thing to do but--"
"No." Jared's mind stopped working at hot. His mouth seems to have repaired itself, though. Bad combination. "No, it's not. I mean. It's not the kind of thing you do, I know, but um, are we going to kiss or something? You're very close to me, and I'm kind of afraid that if you stay this close as much as I respect your space I'm going to do something that you could sue me for assault for and--"
Jensen's lips dart in and peck at his. Small.
"Yeah," Jensen says, "yeah, we're going to kiss."
Jared exhales loudly. "Oh, good."
A soft laugh trails out of Jensen's mouth as Jared tilts his head down. Jensen meets him halfway, and their lips, both chapped, both trembling minutely, find each other. From there they slide into an embrace, and Jensen's arms are secure and firm and cradling around Jared's waist, hands sliding up his spine, playing his nervous system like a guitar. Jared's all bells and lights inside, clanging, flashing. Jensen's mouth is warm; beneath the parted roughness of his lips it's damp and beer-sweet. Jared's heart is throbbing painfully with the knowledge that this is a fantasy come true. But he's also meeting someone new, someone who doesn't know him, and all of the excitement of love at first sight is welling up in his gut along with the familiarity of the fantasy.
This might be a one-night stand, but it feels more like a first step, and that's the magic of it.
Re: 2/2
"Hi," says Jensen.
Panic sets in. "Is this about your shoe? Because I'm sorry-- well, I'm not sorry, but--"
Jensen laughs and passes a hand over his forehead. He's just come out of the shower and his hair is spiking where it's wet. "This isn't fair," he says.
"Huh?" The whole thing's so dreamlike.
"You've probably had my albums for years, you've seen me on a million interviews, you feel like you know me. So you've got a jillion expectations of me and I don't know what they are, because I just met you."
Jensen is talking nonsense. Jensen is talking to him, and Jared's eyes are on his arms, on the supple muscles he's seen on HDTV and actually run his hands over the screen and there they are --
"Can we skip that part?" Arms are coming closer, the whole body's coming closer, and HD had nothing on this. "I mean, can we pretend I've known you for years, too? Because just, I don't know, just for a moment there I thought I had. That's cheesy. I know."
Jared's jaw scrapes something that's probably very close to the floor. Jensen's hand scoops it back up.
"What's your name?" Jensen asks, and his voice rasps like the touch of rough cloth across Jared's ears.
"J-Jared."
"Jared," Jensen repeats, his hand still tucked under Jared's poor boneless jaw. "Look, I don't do this all the time."
Jared's eyes focus. "I know."
"Of course you know." Jensen laughs and shakes his head. "God, this is so awkward--" his eyes catch Jared's-- "I think you're hot. I saw you, and you touched me-- well, you grabbed my shoe-- but-- this must seem like such an entitled-rock-star thing to do but--"
"No." Jared's mind stopped working at hot. His mouth seems to have repaired itself, though. Bad combination. "No, it's not. I mean. It's not the kind of thing you do, I know, but um, are we going to kiss or something? You're very close to me, and I'm kind of afraid that if you stay this close as much as I respect your space I'm going to do something that you could sue me for assault for and--"
Jensen's lips dart in and peck at his. Small.
"Yeah," Jensen says, "yeah, we're going to kiss."
Jared exhales loudly. "Oh, good."
A soft laugh trails out of Jensen's mouth as Jared tilts his head down. Jensen meets him halfway, and their lips, both chapped, both trembling minutely, find each other. From there they slide into an embrace, and Jensen's arms are secure and firm and cradling around Jared's waist, hands sliding up his spine, playing his nervous system like a guitar. Jared's all bells and lights inside, clanging, flashing. Jensen's mouth is warm; beneath the parted roughness of his lips it's damp and beer-sweet. Jared's heart is throbbing painfully with the knowledge that this is a fantasy come true. But he's also meeting someone new, someone who doesn't know him, and all of the excitement of love at first sight is welling up in his gut along with the familiarity of the fantasy.
This might be a one-night stand, but it feels more like a first step, and that's the magic of it.