Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Summary: In high school, Jensen had it all. A popular star quarterback with straight A's and the raw talent to get offered a full football scholarship to Cornell Law school. His beautiful high school sweetheart, now fiancée, was the head of the cheer squad. Jensen was on top of the world. He also had an envious teammate who savagely beat him and left him for dead.

This was how Jensen became a man of few words.

14 ½ years ago

"Another fumble on the play and the ball is intercepted! Great pick-up by the home team defense linebacker Stephen Amell. This is his second interception for the Ogdenville Werecats tonight. And Mel, this kid's got the moves and the muscle because, dang, every time they let this guy out, he plows down the field."

"That's right, Hank, Amell's the middle linebacker and built like a battle tank. And now, they're handing the ball back to the offense, and QB, Jensen Ackles, takes the field again at the end of the fourth quarter. Talk about moves on the field, this boy definitely has what it takes to make it in the big league. He hasn't missed a single opportunity to stick it to the rivaling Pine Ridge Rough Riders. He's a very consistent, very talented player."

"Yup. He's been scouted and offered a full ride to play NCAA football for Cornell's Big Red. I guess an all-expense paid scholarship, to one of the most prestigious IV league collages in the world, is worth the hell of the Ithica winters."

"You can say that again, Hank."

"No contest! Not even close!" Gabe shouted in the locker room. "Thirty-eight to nine, I can hear the fucking Rough Riders crying on their bus from here."

"Rough Riders my ass," Amell said, cocking his hip to the right. "I gave all their asses a rough ride tonight." He spit on the floor. "Fucking Pine Ridge Pansies."

Jamal pulled his helmet off and fist pumped the air. "With Ackels on offense and Amell on defense, we are un-fucking-stoppable."

"Fucking A!"

Stephen Amell knew how well Jensen Ackles performed on the field, but he was not as impressed with him as everyone else was. He had played defense every year Ackles played offense, and, sure, he could call a play and keep his team together, but without Stephen's brute force and ruthless take-no-prisoners defense, all those brilliant calls were worth fucking shit.

Amell sniffed the locker room stink and scowled. While fucking Ackles was living the good life, what did Stephen, the best goddam middle linebacker Ogdenville had seen in twenty years, get out of it? Not fucking Cornell, that's for sure. The best he could get was a partial scholarship to a state school.

It wasn't his fault he didn't test well.

But fucking pretty boy Ackles walked on water. They were all about to graduate, and that scholarship to Cornell would set him up for life. The whole fucking town had a hard-on for their star quarterback.

Not only that, Ackles had the adoration of the girl of his dreams.

Danneel was the most beautiful girl Stephen had ever seen. He worshipped her from afar, but she only had eyes for Jensen. Ackles got it all.

Just then, Jensen sauntered up to the locker room door, lingering while deeply kissing his gorgeous cheerleader/fiancée Danneel. A couple of Werecats wolf whistled when Jensen finally gave her a sexy smile, let her go and made his entrance. Stephen shook his head and muttered "fucking show-off."

"We've done it again, Werecats!" Jensen raised a fist in the air. "We. Are. Number. One!"

"Number One! Number One!" The Werecats chanted.

"We're the best there is." Jensen looked at his team and beamed. "And we couldn't have done it without each and every one of us!"

"Werecats! Werecats! Werecats!" The team stomped their feet and clapped their hands, and Stephen Amell walked out the back door.

"I've been looking into off-campus housing for us," Danni hummed as she burrowed her head into Jensen's chest. "Mom and dad will pay the rent because they want something nice for us."

Jensen kissed the top of her head and hugged her close, fingering the diamond engagement ring on her left hand.

"It's like a dream, Danni. A perfect, wonderful dream. I'm going to law school and you're gonna marry me. I going to buy you a big house with some land and maybe a few horses. And we'll have lots of kids."

"I can't wait, Jense. You're going to be my husband and a lawyer. You'll be presenting courtroom cases in front of a judge and jury. It's like watching a movie with a very handsome football star as the lead." She blinked her pretty eyes and kissed him. "We're so lucky, we have the rest of our lives to make our dreams come true." Her eyes sparkled. "Because you are the boy of my dreams and I love you so, so much."

Jensen kissed her back and sighed happily. "Even though most corporate law is handled outside the court room, I can't wait to run my plays in front of a judge." Jensen blushed. "I mean make my case in front of a judge. I know I sound like an old cliché, but I'm going into law as one of the good guys, to see that the system works fairly for everybody."

"And," she sucked a mark into Jensen's neck, "with your silver tongue, you will never have a problem stating your case."

"My silver tongue, huh?" Jensen said, playfully. "I'll show you how well I can use my silver tongue."

They made out lazily on the couch. Deep kisses, shallow kisses, deep, bruising kisses. Danni always tasted fresh and sweet and wild, and Jensen would never tire of it. He was the luckiest guy in the world.

"Love you so much, Danni. Love you so much."

When they came up for air she breathed, "Dad says that corporate law pays really well and he should know. After you graduate, he said he'll set it up so that one of his companies will be your first client."

"Your dad is awesome." He bared his neck to her as his hand came around to gently squeeze her right breast. "Our life is awesome."

She moaned while she worked on marking Jensen's collarbone. Her cool fingers skimmed down his stomach, reaching for his belt buckle.

Jensen bucked his crotch into her hand. "Getting paid well is a nice fringe benefit, but you know what else is a nice fringe benefit?"

He rolled her over onto her back and worked her buttons loose.

She pulled her panties down and spread her legs. "Yeah," she purred. "I do."

If Stephen Amell was built like a battle tank. Stephen's quasi-friend Moe Preston, an offensive lineman from the opposing Pine Ridge team, was built like a four-door refrigerator freezer. Moe wasn't happy about the way Ackles decimated his beloved Rough Riders, so Stephen invited him out to the barn for some home-made 150 proof lightning. And hot dogs.

"Fucking Ackles," Stephen slurred. "He's the golden boy of Ogdenville. He thinks his shit don't stink." He took another swig. "The whole town thinks his shit don't stink." He sighed. "Danni thinks his shit don't stink."

Moe lay on his back with red, glazed eyes, chomping on his fifth hot dog. "He killed us out there. No respect for his fellow teams. You don't gotta win by thirty fucking points. Thass dis-respeckfill. No 'spect at all. The fucking 'spectless fucker." He tried, unsuccessfully, to lick the yellow mustard off his cheek.

"Yeah," Stephen agreed vigorously. "An' you know what he said in the locker room after wiping the field with you guys?" He smacked his chest and belched. "No offense."

"Wha? What did the fucker say 'bout us?"

"He said, an' I quote," Stephen stared at the hay loft for a few seconds, then blinked, "he said, an' I quote, "Rough Riders my ass. I showed them a rough ride all over their asses."

"He said that?" Moe growled.

"Yeaa, then he called y'all fuckin' pansies."

"He said that?" Moe sputtered.

"In the locker room." Stephen burped again.

"The fucker said that? In the locker room?"

"Yep, he said he rode all y'alls asses. An' he bragged about it to the rest of the team."

"Well, that ain't right." Moe grit his teeth and reached for the mason jar holding the moonshine. Stephen had re-filled it at least three times. Maybe four?

"Nope, it ain't. I left after he said it." Stephen waved his half-full flask around for emphasis.

"That ain't sportsman-like."

"Nope, and the fucker got a sports scholarship." Stephen clenched his fists.

"He gives sports a bad name." Moe took a swig and then rose to his unsteady feet. "He shoun't get 'way with that." He pointed his mostly empty jar at Stephen. "Not if he's a sportsman."

"He gives sports a bad name," Stephen repeated.

"We need to give him a piece of my mind. Uh, minds." Moe dropped the jar, reached down, and hauled Stephen to his feet.

They steadied one another for a few seconds. Moe shook Stephen's shoulders. "Where is the fucker now?"

Stephen smiled and some drool slipped down his chin. "I bet I know where t' find him. He's always with his girlfriend 'til late, but he never stays over. We'll just wait 'till he goes home."

"She's real pretty." Moe stumbled, but up-righted himself.

Stephen hummed. "Maybe after we get done with Ackles, she'll have a new 'preciation for muscles and strength over fancy talking."

"Wazzat mean?"

"It means we wait for him to get home and then we bury him."

"Bury him? Like bury him, bury him?" Moe was gleeful.

"Like I kill 'im and put 'im dead into the ground. I'll do it, too. You watch, I'll do it."

"Yeah?" Moe was impressed. "We gonna kill 'im?"

"Yup, but it's a secret." He put his finger to his lips. "Shh. Come with me. I know where he lives."

Moe snorted a boozy laugh and wobbled out of the barn.

There was a spring in Jensen's step as he walked home. It was close to 3:00 AM but because he lived with his parents, he made a point to always be home before sunrise. They were used to him staying out late with his girl, but they knew he would be home when they woke, so they slept like logs.

Jensen was flushed after celebrating the team's win with Danni.

Twice.

There was a bright red blush on his cheeks, bright red bite marks on his neck and chest, and, despite the chill in the air, sweat on his brow. It was a very celebratory night.

As he rounded the corner, he saw a lone figure swaying in the middle of the roadway. A very large, lone figure. He got closer and recognized him as one of the players from Pine Ridge. The guy was barely able to stand straight, but staggered over to the sidewalk in front of Jensen.

"Hey, man," Jensen said as he walked past him toward his house. "Out partying kind of late, aren't you?"

Moe crouched and charged him. Jensen easily sidestepped him and said, "What the fuck, man? Are you mad because we beat the pants off your team? You'd better get over it."

Moe charged again, falling on his ass after making a complete miss. This time he stayed sitting in the middle of the street with his legs splayed.

"No respeckt!" Moe yelled. "'Speckless fucker!"

"Jesus, guy. Go home and sleep it off, will ya?" Jensen was disgusted by the state and smell of him. He quickened his pace and hopped the six steps up to his front door. But his hand never reached the doorknob. His legs were swept out from under him, and Jensen went down hard on the brick landing.

"Ouch. Fuck." Jensen whipped his head around. "Amell, what the hell are you doing?" He pulled up on the doorknob and got to his feet, rubbing his hip where it hit the pavement. "Shit, that hurt, man. What was that for?"

"You're a pretty boy, fucker," Stephen drawled, moving close. "Everybody loves your ass. But not me."

"Fuck off, Steve. This isn't funny." Jensen stood and tested his hip. It held. He pointed to Moe. "Listen, go home with your boyfriend there and sleep it off." He rubbed his leg. "Fuck, that hurts. And, Jesus, you smell like an…"

Stephen pushed Jensen hard. "No, you listen to me, fucker."

"What the hell? What the fucking hell?" Jensen tripped down a step and his hip was not happy about it.

Moe teetered over and yelled, "You tell' em, Stevie. You tell him it ain't right. What he said. It ain't right."

"Look, guys," Jensen side-eyed them both. He wasn't afraid of them; he'd grown up with Stephen and knew that linebacker, Moe Something, from the high school games he won playing against him. He was mostly baffled by their hostility. Especially Amell. At least the other dude was on the losing team. "Get the hell outta my yard, go the fuck home and sober up. Hut hut."

"Imma kill you, Ackles." Stephen shook his fist in Jensen's face. "You and your fucking perfect life. Fuckin' perfect grades. Fuckin' perfect girlfriend. I'm gonna put you down dead. And you won't have nothin' left." He closed in on Jensen. His breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes blazed fury. "When you're gone, I'm gonna get her to love me."

"Oh, you are, are you? You're going to kill me and steal my girlfriend?" Jensen raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Seems to me you can't even put two syllables together, much less form a game plan for murder."

He laughed and rubbed his leg. "Go home. Both of you. Y'all are stinking up my lawn. Now, git." He turned his back.

Stephen growled and rushed him, place-kicking Jensen's left knee sideways. The pain was immediate and intense. Jensen felt the tendons pop and the ligaments tear as he staggered sideways and fell. His breath caught in his throat.

He vaguely made out Moe laughing, "Way to take 'im down, Stevie. Hut hut!"

Amell wasn't finished. Jensen tried to get up, but Stephen charged and jumped on him. Jensen flailed and skidded down a step on his back. His head cracked on the top corner of the brick landing. Jensen's breath punched out of his lungs, and the world went gray around the edges. Strong arms lifted him up and smashed his head into the bricks again and again until the world blazed red and then went black.

They said it was a mugging. Jensen knew it wasn't. He just couldn't tell anyone.

Jensen sat at his desk at Morgan and Collins, LLC Attorneys at Law. He didn't get to Cornell, but even at his lowest, he never gave up on his ambition or his affection for the law. While he could never be a trial lawyer, he was able to buckle down and get his certificate as a paralegal. It suited him well and his research abilities, as well as his ability to assist the various attorneys and clients, made him an asset to the firm.

He had difficulty getting his first interview, much less his first job, but being J.D. Morgan's nephew had its advantages. JD gave him a job and a chance. Even though nepotism was involved in his hiring, he soon proved his worth and, now, nobody at M&C, doubted Jensen's abilities.

Most of his job consisted of research and compilation. Among his duties were: writing summaries of cases, preparing reports for attorneys, conducting research, investigating facts and developing legal arguments. He also drafted legal documents such as contracts, depositions and pleadings, prepared and filed documents with courts as well as organizing and archiving the documents related to completed or ongoing cases, while keeping track of changes and providing timely updates on these changes.

It was more than a full-time job, and right up Jensen's alley. He could do most of the work from his computer and rarely had to meet with others. When he did, it was by appointment only. Jensen was resourceful and had developed some very convincing tricks when communicating with the other lawyers and clients so that he almost came across as normal. He used his good looks, stunning smile and warm laugh all to his advantage. And they went a long way.

He was finishing picking apart a particularly contradictory set of depositions when Jeff unexpectedly knocked on his open door. Jensen startled, then smirked at him.

"Hey, Jensen. Sorry to drop in unannounced." Jeff smiled and sat. "Got a minute for me?"

"A minute?" Jensen exaggerated a look at his watch. "For you? Yeah, I got a minute."

"Since I'm your boss, that's a good thing."

Jensen grinned. "Yeah. Boss."

"Smart ass," Jeff grinned back.

He sat across from Jensen. "I know you're working on the Simpson v. Mid-Central Hospital case, oh, I see you're going through it now?"

Jensen nodded.

"As you know, Simpson is not only suing Mid-Central, but also co-suing the doctor associated with his allegedly unsuccessful gastric bypass."

Jensen shuffled through his documents and read, "Dr. Reginald Johnston."

"Right. We have the hospital as a client, but Dr. Johnston has retained the PDLK group to represent him."

Jensen glanced at his paperwork. "Yes. Joseph Padalecki is his head council."

"Well, he was, but Joe shifted that case over to his younger brother, Jared. You'll be meeting with Jared and not Joseph this afternoon to go over the discovery for the case. Will that be a problem for you?"

"I don't think so." Jensen meticulously wrote Jared Padalecki on his note pad. "So. You. Have you met young Jared? Younger Jared? I have met Joseph." Jensen twirled his finger. "Before."

"I met him briefly and that's why I kept you on this. He's the perfect lawyer for you to work with. He's smart, sharp and extremely chatty. All you'll have to do is listen, smile, and nod."

"The perfect lawyer for me? If all I'll have to do is listen and nod," Jensen smiled, "bring on young Jared P."

Jensen's meeting with Jared was at 3:30 that afternoon. It was a good day all around, and Jensen had all his facts, figures and buzz phrases all laid out on his desk. If Jared was as loquacious and gregarious as Jeff said, this meeting would be a piece of cake.

At exactly 3:30 there was a knock on his door—shave-and-a-haircut. From what Jensen could see through the frosted glass, a tall, dark and handsome man waited to be let in.

Jensen opened the door extended his hand and said, "Good afternoon. Jared Padalecki, I presume? I'm Jensen Ackles."

"You presume correctly!" Jared shook Jensen's hand. "I've heard you're a hell of a paralegal. My brother Joe and my sister Paige—she's a lawyer too, but you probably know that—have both worked with your firm at some time in the past and Joe says you're the guy with all the facts and numbers."

To buy a few seconds time, Jensen grinned, put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I am the guy with all those. Here, have a seat."

"Thanks. I've just started researching this case, you know, because Joe initially was the lead on it, but he handed it over to me, and I've already noticed some discrepancies in the depositions Simpson made during the course of this lawsuit."

"Yes," Jensen pulled out a folder, glanced at his notes, then showed it to Jared. "I noticed that as well. I underlined the contradictions from when the case was first filed, uh, when Simpson first made his complaint with his lawyers, Pellegrino & Sheppard." Jensen glanced down again. "Later, after your client, Dr. Johnston, retained PDLK, these changes in his, in Simpson's, statement occurred." Jensen showed Jared the phrases he highlighted. "These could help both our cases, should it ever come to trial."

Jared looked at the paperwork. "Yeah, I think Sheppard, himself, started out as his lead council, but when Mark saw the case circling the drain, he shuffled it off to one of his minions." Jared looked up and smiled. "Like my brother shuffled it off to me. I don't mind. From what I've seen, Simpson hasn't been able to keep his story straight. This is a slam-dunk for a dismissal for both your client and mine."

"I agree, a slam-dunk dismissal. But I'm not a lawyer, so I. Can't. Really. Say." Jensen cleared his throat. He looked at Jared and grinned. It wasn't hard at all to smile at this guy. He was happy, he was nice, and didn't seem to notice when Jensen's speech hesitated or that he repeated Jared's phrases. "I'll show you what else, there is, I found."

Jensen went through his crib notes and cheat sheets. And, even if he says so himself, he came across pretty well.

"Boy," Jared said. "You went all out on this. Is this how you research all your cases or are you just trying to impress me?" Jared moved into Jensen's space.

"Are you…?" Jensen stopped and willed his mind to come up with the word. For god's sake, Jared just said it.

"Am I what? Impressed? Hell yes, especially since…hey, can I ask you about something and you won't take it the wrong way?"

"Maybe." Jensen was relieved he found that word, then he tensed.

"My brother Joe, he's met with you before, and told me—when he knew you and I were meeting—that you did a great job, but I should be patient with you and wait if I needed to."

"He did?" Jensen actually thought it was nice that Joseph put it like that, rather than out him. When Jensen met with Joseph a couple of years ago, he was having a much harder time and hadn't fully figured out his system.

"Yes. Do you know why he said that? I mean, you had all the information at your fingertips, and I'm not usually an impatient person, especially when I know someone is doing the best they can, but I didn't need to tap into any of my patience for this meeting."

"I do know why he said that. But. It's okay because our meeting's over." Jensen gave a wide, happy smile. On the one hand, he was glad he pulled it off so well, but on the other, Jared was nice, and he wasn't ready for him to leave yet.

Jared must have felt the same way because he said, "Ooh, you're being very cryptic, and I can never resist a good mystery."

"A good mystery, huh?" Jensen smiled. "A good mystery needs to be, uh, worked out."

Jared nodded, "And I'm just the guy. I'm all into solving puzzles."

Jensen went through the words in his head. "I've never been called a puzzle. Ever."

"You're puzzling in a good way." Jared laughed. "Hey, I'm going to say something else and I don't want you to get mad, okay?"

Jensen chuckled and shrugged. "Okay."

"I think you're really nice, and I think it might be fun to hang out together. I'm gonna tell you up front that I'm gay and I'm attracted to you but, even if you're not into guys, I think we could be good friends."

"You do?" Jensen was amused. "I do, too."

"You do? That's great!" Jared beamed. "So, can I ask? Are you gay?"

With a twinkle in his eye, Jensen shook his head no.

"Oh." Jared tried to not look disappointed. "So, straight, then?"

With that same twinkle, Jensen slowly shook his head, no, again.

Jared's cheeks pinked up and he grinned ear to ear. "So, you play for both teams! That means I have a shot, right?"

Jensen couldn't help his own blush. He had always been attracted to both sexes, but when he was a young high school quarterback, it made things easier to love women.

And Danni was so easy to love.

But, the days of his youth were behind him, and Jensen had always been drawn to the hard male physique. Not many words were ever needed for his male hook-ups because men talked far less than women—usually. Besides, he had needs, and a crazy one-nighter with this nice, mildly crazy and sexy young lawyer would do the trick.

Jensen could use some fun since he'd come off a very dry spell.

"Yes. You have a shot."

"Great! And I'm going to take that shot. What are you doing Saturday night? Around seven?"

Jensen cocked his head to the right. "Around seven on Saturday night?"

"Yeah." Jared's smile was wide and bright and deeply dimpled.

"I guess I'm giving you a shot."

Later, Jensen would recall how strongly that sentence impacted the rest of his life.

Jensen texted Jared later in the week and asked if they could meet at Collision Alley, one of the clubs on the east side of town. Jensen knew they blasted the music, and loud music was never conducive to long conversations. And conversation was not what Jensen had in mind for the evening.

Texting was always easier for Jensen, because it gave him time to come up with the words before he hit send. And no one on the receiving end could tell how long it actually took him to do that.

Jared agreed and at seven o'clock sharp, Jensen arrived by Uber to see Jared already waiting in line. Saturdays were popular at Collision Alley and, damn, Jared looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. He was dressed in tight, black jeans and a black button-down with sleeves rolled up mid forearm. By the toned skin and muscle visible through those three un-done top buttons, he knew Jared was ripped.

Jared lit up when Jensen stepped out of the car.

Jensen walked up close beside him. "Hey Jared. Thanks for meeting me here. You look …" Jensen trailed off, licked his lips and tilted his head to the side.

The music blared out the doorway so it was already getting tough to talk. "You look amazing, Jensen. Goddamn, I can't believe you agreed to go out with me."

Jensen beamed and pulled Jared inside by his elbow.

Jensen was no slouch, himself. Although he couldn't wear his jeans skin-tight, since he had to wear the brace on his left knee, especially if he wanted to dance, he still looked respectable with his ripped jeans and tight white pull-over. The tiny bit of kohl he used to accent his eyes didn't hurt, either.

Jared pulled him in to dance with hips swaying and arms barely touching. Jensen crowded up to him, but played it cool, matching Jared's dancing step for step. The music changed to a wild, booming beat and Jensen was glad to see that he could keep up with Jared's wild dancing style. As the music began winding down, Jared leaned in close and yelled into Jensen's ear, "Let's get a drink?"

Jensen winked, and they made their way to the bar.

Sweaty and happy, Jensen shouted to the bartender, "Beer." He made the gesture for pulling a tap and reached for his wallet. Jared stilled his hand and said, "I got this." He raised his voice to the bartender, "Gin and tonic, please."

Still catching his breath, Jensen downed half of his drink in one draught. He noticed how closely Jared watched him swallow. It made Jensen feel powerful. He leaned back against the bar, cocked his hip out to the side and stared unabashedly at his companion.

Sweat ran down Jared's face and his chest gleamed with it, giving him an almost other-worldly glow. Feeling brave, and carefully running the cheesy words he'd memorized over and over in his head, Jensen leaned in and said, "If I said you had a great body, would you hold it against me?"

Jared doubled over, laughing so hard he almost choked on his drink. When he got his breath back, his eyes were glittering. "I don't know, did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?"

Jensen took up the challenge mouthing the words to himself before saying, "Your lips look, uh, lonely. Would they like to," Jensen took a breath and forced out the rest of the horrible pick-up line, " would they like to meet mine?"

Jared threw his head back, clearly delighted. To Jensen it looked like the sun did just come out. Then Jared got a gleam in his eye and said, "Can I follow you home? Because my parents always told me to follow my dreams. But you'll have to lead because I'll get lost in your eyes."

Jensen shook his head and held his hands up in defeat. "Okay. You..." he snickered to buy a couple of seconds. "Win. You win."

"I win, do I?" Jared leaned in close, "What do I win?"

Jensen took the last long swallow. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned in. "You win me."

Jared's eyes grew wide, and his expression went feral. "If that's what I win, I'm one lucky bastard."

He downed his drink, held out his hand, and they hit the dance floor again.

They were both giggling when they emerged from the cab at Jared's townhouse. Jared paid the cabbie while Jensen tried to tuck his shirt in. There'd been some friskiness in the back seat, but the main event was about to happen at Jared's.

Jared slammed his front door open. "Voilà! Welcome to Chez Padalecki," He dragged Jensen in by the shirttail and shut the door behind him.

Jensen nuzzled into Jared's neck, took a big whiff and said, "Niiiice. You smell, so, so..."

"So, so?" Jared teased and he pulled Jensen into his arms.

"So, so," Jensen moaned as Jared kissed up his neck.

"Thanks," Jared licked into Jensen's ear. "It's something by Armani."

"Something by Armani?" Jensen bared his neck, urging him on. "Armani's good. But you feel, uh, so better." Jensen took in a breath and then turned and took Jared's tongue into his mouth. He was done talking tonight.

Jared must have been too, because he manhandled Jensen up the stairs and into his master bedroom.

Jensen undid the rest of the buttons on Jared’s shirt and confirmed that he was right. Jared was well and truly ripped. Jensen did away with the shirt and began on Jared's belt buckle.

Jared returned the favor and undid the button and fly on Jensen's jeans. When they fell to the floor, Jensen's black knee brace was the only thing he was wearing. Commando was always more convenient.

Unfortunately, Jared slowed his moves and his eyes became concerned.

"Oh, you have a hurt knee?" His speech was adorably slurred.

Jensen smiled, shook his head and removed the brace saying, "Football thing."

Jared got a dreamy look in his eye. "Old football injury, huh? Were you the team's quarterback? Did you get all the cute cheerleaders?"

Jensen sobered slightly, but kept his smile in place. He gave a thumbs up and pulled Jared's black silk boxers all the way off. The brace promptly forgotten.

Jared threw Jensen down on his back, none too gently, onto the soft mattress. This was why Jensen loved the stronger sex. Jared crawled on all fours up Jensen's body taking licks and nips as he went.

Jensen was all the way hard, now, and thrust his hips up in search of friction. Jared snickered, got the hint, licked his hand and took Jensen's cock, stroking in a slow up and down motion.

Jensen moaned and clutched the comforter in both fists.

"So," Jared's hot breath whispered against his neck. "The way I figure it, sexually speaking, you've had the best of both worlds." Jared bent down and licked up Jensen's shaft, adding more saliva to his fist. He looked up at Jensen through his lashes. "While I have had the very best of only one."

Lube came from somewhere and now Jared's hand was gliding effortlessly up and down Jensen's hard-on. Jensen writhed and thrusted until Jared slowed his hand. "So," Jared teased the head of Jensen's cock, "that means you get to pick how you want me."

Jensen moaned, and damn, he didn't need any words for that.

"Do you want me on top?" Jared shifted so his hard cock pushed between Jensen's legs up under his balls with increasing force.

"Or the bottom?" Jared moved fluidly to straddle Jensen's hips and nudge Jensen's cock with his ass.

Jensen was panting in earnest and, literally, speechless. He opened his mouth and groaned, "You…" then thrashed his head side to side on the pillow.

"Jesus Christ, Jensen. You look like a porno come to life on my sheets. I'm gonna choose. I want you in me. I want to give you the ride of your life."

Jensen moaned again and gave the okay sign. He bent his knees while Jared shifted above him. Jensen was glad he didn't have to choose because he wanted it all. And he wanted it right the hell now.

Wherever Jared got the lube from, more appeared and he handed one small bottle to Jensen. "I'll start, you finish."

And with that, Jared proceeded to open himself up in front of Jensen. Jensen gasped, grabbed and held onto the base of his cock so he wouldn't explode all over the room because Jared? Was Hot As Hell.

Remembering what Jared had just said, Jensen chanted, "Jesus Christ, Jared. Jesus, Jared. Jared. Christ." Jared was sweating in earnest now, and suddenly turned around, leaning over for Jensen to finish the job. Two of Jensen's trembling fingers entered Jared and found a nice, lose tightness. It didn't require much work for Jensen to complete the task by adding a third finger and spreading them. He repeated with a little more pressure, scissored them and spread them again.

Jared took no time in taking a condom, ripping the foil packet and rolling it onto Jensen's cock. Jared raised up, and slowly lowered himself down and down. Jensen's breath wheezed out of him as he grabbed his hard-on at the base. He didn't want it over too soon.

Jared was gorgeous. His body shone with sweat and sex. His eyes were half-mast, and he was concentrating on his mission to get to the bottom. Inch by glorious inch, he descended until fully seated.

All Jensen could do was look up in awe. He said the first word he could find. "Voilà!"

Jared chuckled, grabbed his own cock and panted, "Welcome to Chez Padalecki."

Jensen laughed, thrust his pelvis up and groaned. Jared used his muscled thighs, bore down and set the pace.

"God, Jensen, you feel so good. You look so hot. Jesus." Jared began rambling as he stroked himself, riding Jensen for all he was worth.

Jensen babbled nonsense sounds and grabbed Jared by the hips, matching the pace Jared had set. He held his breath, thrashed his head side to side again and said, "Jared. Jared. I…"

"Go for it." Jared was breathless. "I know I am." And with one, two, three strokes Jared arched back on Jensen's cock and came all over Jensen's chest and neck.

And fuck, Jensen had never seen anything so sexy in his goddam life. He shot off like a rocket, squeezing his eyes shut and going along for the ride. Probably leaving bruises on Jared's hips as he went. "Fuck. Christ. Jared. So..so…"

With the electricity zinging throughout his mind and body, it was a miracle that even those few words surfaced. The pleasure caused Jensen to white out for a moment.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Jared carefully lifted off, hissing as Jensen's softening dick slipped free. He bounced on the bed next to him heaving in huge breaths of air.

Jensen fumbled with the condom, sloppily tying it off before dropping it to the floor. He turned fully toward Jared and was only able to say, "Wow."

"Wow? That's all you've got to say?" Jared panted a chuckle. " Because I say, Bravo! To both of us. "

"Bravo," Jensen gasped.

Jared kissed him softly and burrowed into Jensen's chest.

Jensen stroked Jared's face and neck. He brushed a lock of hair behind Jared's ear. Jared really was beautiful. He was fun. He was nice. He was sexy, and Jensen's heart broke a little because he would probably never see him like this again. So, he took his time and kissed Jared soundly with the lingering taste of gin and beer still on their lips.

Jared looked startled at first, but then pleased and quickly got with the program. His warm tongue invaded all the nooks and ridges in Jensen's mouth, his big hands holding onto Jensen's face and exploring.

After a few minutes, Jensen put up a wait finger. He found the bathroom and came back with a warm wash-cloth and wiped Jared down. Then, used his tongue to taste all the places on Jared that he just washed.

Jensen was surprised by how easily Jared's name came to him, so he used it over and over. "Jared, you, you're so…" and he kissed another stripe up his chest. "Jared."

Jared had a gleam in his eye as he lay back and spread his legs. Jensen didn't need to be asked twice as he crawled up, kissing those strong legs. Those strong legs that just rode him like he was a stallion in the Preakness.

Jensen took Jared's cock in his mouth and sucked him to full hardness. Jared's hands were surprisingly tender as he stroked Jensen's hair. Jensen used his tongue and just the right amount of suction because Jared had started panting in earnest. Jensen could tell that he was trying not to thrust down his throat.

So, Jensen opened his throat and bobbed forward. The groans Jared made were angel music to Jensen's ears.

Now it was Jared's turn to chant, "Jensen. Jensen, so, so good."

When Jensen reached down and cupped Jared's balls and stroked, Jared started pulling back, eyes wild. Jensen closed his eyes and held Jared fast. Jared came hard down his throat with a surprised whoosh of exhaled air.

Jensen wiped his lips on the inside of Jared's thighs, giving a quick nip as he came to lay beside him.

Jared had some trouble catching his breath, but finally said, "Wow."

Jensen said, "See?"

"Yep, you were right."

They both lay there, catching their breath and sharing flirtatious smiles.

Jensen sighed and looked at his watch. Jared grabbed his wrist. "Do you have to go?"

Jensen looked at Jared wistfully. He nodded, but instead of getting his clothes, which was what he intended to do, he rolled into Jared and kissed him again. His eyes, his cheeks, his lips. The post sex haze surrounding Jared made him irresistible. Jensen only wanted a few more minutes of this little piece of heaven before it was all over.

Jared was not put off as he returned each kiss with one of his own. It didn't feel like sex anymore. It felt different. And for a minute, Jensen let himself pretend and feel it. It had been a long, long fifteen years.

Jared wiped his thumbs under Jensen's eyes, and he was surprised to see they came away wet. Well, that was awkward.

"I can't…" Jensen cleared his throat and smiled. "Stay."

"Can I see you again?" Jared kissed his temple. "No, I'm not going to ask that. I'm going to tell you. I am going to see you again."

"I…" Jensen shook his head and smiled. He got up and located he clothes.

Jared rushed on, "In fact I know I'm going to see you again. On Monday we have a meeting to do an autopsy on the case. The judge dismissed it today. So, technically," he looked at his watch, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh," Jensen's eyes went wide. "I wasn't..."

"That's okay, isn't it?" Jared had a slight pout that made him look adorable and way younger than his years.

Jensen sighed, smiling. "That's okay." He couldn't help it; he leaned in and took Jared's lips in a full, heated kiss. Just one more time, he thought.

Jared watched languidly as Jensen dressed in front of him. "Jesus, Jensen. You have no idea how hot you are, do you? No idea."

Jensen shot him a sly smile and winked.

Jared burst out a surprised laugh.

Jensen texted for an Uber and smiled shyly. "Thanks. For tonight."

"You're welcome." Jared brushed his hair back with his hand. "For tonight. We should do it again. Like, a lot."

He stood up naked in front of Jensen who was now fully braced and clothed. "You know, I just now realized that my taste in men has changed. I thought I liked the funny, outgoing laugh-a-minute kinda guy. But guess what? Now I'm turned on by the strong, silent type." Jared touched his finger to Jensen's lips. "That's good, right?"

Jensen whispered into his finger, "You have no idea."

Jensen had miscalculated that whole date with Jared. What on earth was he thinking?

It was supposed to be a one-off. A single hook up with a hot guy. One great night of drinks, dancing and fun sex. But, goddammit, Jared was nice and funny and he liked Jensen. He said he wanted to see him again.

Jensen didn't tell him no. In fact, Jensen said okay. Okay? For God's sake, he has to work with the guy.

Why didn't he tell him no? What was he thinking? Because now that meant he would have to come clean. And that, Jensen did not want to do. He wanted to remain the mysterious, strong, silent type that Jared just discovered turned him on.

Fuck.

Jensen knew how to use his looks, his smile and his charm to get consenting partners into bed. That part was easy. But relationships were not, and Jensen avoided them at all costs.

Jared said he wanted to see him again, but he didn't know the real Jensen. He only saw what Jensen wanted him to see. It was obvious that they liked one another and the sex was hot. However, in order to have a relationship, even a friendship, he needed to be honest. Jensen simply could not keep up the charade of normalcy indefinitely.

Especially today, because today he was dead in the water.

That black, bottomless pit in his brain, opened up and sucked all the words he ever knew down into it. Maybe it was caused by the anxiety of knowing he'd see Jared again, or it could have been a dragonfly flitting in his neighbor's garden. There was no way Jensen had ever been able to predict when the bad days would happen, and now, all his words were inaccessible, submerged deep in the well of Jensen's damaged brain.

It was so bad he couldn't go into work, and he couldn't even text Jared, even to cancel their meeting. You need words for that. In his mind, he knew what he wanted to convey, but he couldn't dredge up the terminology to express it. So, his thumbs hovered silently over the keyboard waiting for a word to appear so he could type it. He could read and repeat, but repeating Jared's texts back to him would be weird.

He wandered around his apartment trying to calm himself and do mundane chores and routine household tasks. He put his laundry away, unloaded the dishwasher, and retrieved his mail. He couldn't assemble words right now, but he could read them.

Among the bills and advertisements, was an invitation. Jensen almost tossed it, but instead he opened it and realized that it was an invitation to Ogdenville's fifteen-year high school reunion.

If his words were out of reach before, the thought of his high school days sent them into lock-down. He stifled a sob and held his head that was beginning to throb.

There was a soft knock on the door. Shave-and-a-haircut.

Shit.

Jared didn't have a communication problem, and when he found out Jensen had called in sick, he texted and called. Over the course of the day, his messages became more and more frantic, asking if he had done anything wrong. So, it wasn't a big surprise when there was another knock on his apartment door.

At first Jensen thought to ignore it, but it might cause Jared to panic, and Jensen did not want Jared calling 911, so he heaved a sigh, looked around at his living space and opened the door a crack.

"Jensen! Hey." Jared was breathless.

Jensen gave him a wan smile and said, "Hey."

"Are you okay? They said you called in sick."

Jensen shook his head, sadly. He looked at the floor as he couldn't look Jared in the eye.

"Oh." Jared stopped and looked Jensen up and down. "Oh. Is it me?"

With more effort than it should have taken for such a small word, Jensen said, "No."

"Good." Jared relaxed a little. "I was hoping it wasn't me. I thought on Saturday that we were on the same page. We were texting and getting along, right? I didn't read us wrong, did I?"

Jensen looked up and, like the cheesy pick-up line, got lost in Jared's eyes. Good God. What had he done?

"No. I…no."

Jared had calmed down and literally scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. "Good. That's good. See, I got worried when you didn't get back to me today. Your office called to cancel our meeting. All I kept thinking was: Did I do something he didn't like? Because I like you and I thought you liked me too, and I'd feel horrible if I said or did anything to upset that. Did I say or do anything to upset you?"

Jensen sighed, "Jared."

"Can we talk? Please?"

Jensen huffed a sad, ironic chuckle. He opened his mouth but all that came out was, "I can't. Can't. Shit."

Jared tried to look inside, and Jensen closed the door another inch. Jensen was sure he had his mild panic face on because he did not want Jared to see inside.

"Hey," Jared whispered. "Is everything all right?"

When Jensen didn't answer right away, Jared looked concerned. "Jensen," he whispered, "are you safe? Is there someone inside?"

Jensen made the mistake of looking inside his apartment even though he knew nobody was in there. Jared took it to mean something else because he pulled Jensen half out the door and said, "Are you in danger and can't tell me?"

"Can't. Jared. Can't." Unbidden, tears came to his eyes. "Fuck."

"Okay, I'll call the police," he whispered, "But first, I'm going to pull you into the hallway and slam the door. Get ready to run. Okay, on three. One."

"Oh, hell…Jesus." Jensen pulled Jared inside by his elbow and left the door wide open, figuring that Jared would want to make a hasty retreat.

Jared went into a defensive crouch as he looked around the apartment. Jensen would have laughed if he hadn't been so mortified. This would probably be the last time he would ever see Jared again. He saw the exact moment when Jared noticed something wasn't quite right. Jensen plopped on the sofa and waited for it.

Jared stood and turned around. He looked bemused as his eyes touched on all the labels Jensen had in his home.

Refrigerator
Stove top
Sofa
Television or TV
CD Cabinet

Etcetera.

Most every item in Jensen's apartment was labeled.

"Why are there notes on all your furniture?"

Jensen nodded, closed the front door and sat, patting the seat next to him and said, "Sofa?"

Jared sat on the opposite side and stared at him. Jensen went through all the words he could find. "I can't…" He put up a wait finger. "I have trouble. With. Words. With finding words."

"No, you don't. We've had lengthy conversations. We were trading bad pick-up lines. We discussed the lawsuit together for Pete's sake. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Jensen said.

"Yeah."

"See, those were your. Words. Not my. Words."

"My words, not your words? What does that even mean?" Jared was getting angry.

Jensen understood.

"I can't," Jensen pressed his lips together and tried again. "It's bad today."

Jared must have seen how hard Jensen was trying because he took a calming breath before leaning back into the couch cushions. Jared's eyes scanned the apartment, reading all the labels. He frowned and squinted at Jensen. "You didn't know I was coming over, did you?"

Jensen shook his head.

"So, these note cards are up all the time?"

Jensen nodded. He had a glimmer of hope that Jared was catching on.

"You can repeat what I say."

"I can repeat what you say."

"But sometimes you can't find the actual words? Is that right?"

"Sometimes I can't find any words. Like now, today." Jensen held Jared's eyes with his. "But I can read. All the time."

"So, you label things so you can say the word for them?"

"Yes! That's yes." Jensen stood, walked around his apartment and clearly annunciated all the furniture in his house without a stammer or stutter.

Jared blinked. "You sound like you know the words."

"I always know the things. Don't always know the word. For the thing. To say them. Shit."

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to tear his hair out. He looked at Jared, who, to Jensen's surprise, hadn't walked out yet. "Can I show you? A thing?"

Jared still looked puzzled. "Okay."

Jensen went to his den and found the journal he was looking for. He folded over a page of the Science Direct Journal of Medicine to an article on Adult Anomic Aphasia and handed it to Jared. "Here. I have this."

Jared read aloud, "Anomic aphasia is the mildest of the aphasias, with relatively preserved speech and comprehension but difficulty in word finding."

Jensen watched Jared's reaction as he read the entire article and became more and more animated as he read. It was not what Jensen expected.

"You? You have this condition?"

Jensen nodded once.

"Wow. Until now, I couldn't tell. You handle it well. I mean, I did notice that you repeat sometimes, but I thought that was part of your charm. It's not only charming," he gave Jensen a small smile, "but it's also a way for you to communicate when you have trouble finding your own words. That's clever."

"Clever?"

"Yeah. And labeling your things so you don't have to come up with the words because all you have to do is read them. Am I right?"

"You are right. I can always read."

"You must prepare a whole hell of a lot before meeting someone the first time. Like me? Did you make a lot of notes?"

"Yes."

He looked at Jensen with something like awe. "That's so interesting. I've never met anyone with any kind of aphasia before. Please don't take this the wrong way or anything, but my mother was a special education teacher. She taught high functioning children in regular schools. I loved going into work with her. In fact, if becoming a lawyer wasn't expected of me, I would have followed in her footsteps. Kids with disabilities can have it rough, but teachers like my mom are dedicated to helping them become their independent best. But, I digress, I'm not bothering you by telling you this, am I?"

Jensen smiled, "Not even a little."

"Good, because I've always been fascinated by the different methods she used to teach her kids communication skills. She worked closely with Speech and Language Pathologists and adaptive equipment specialists. She did a lot of visual communication with her students. Did you ever use a communications board?"

"Yes. At first, it helped a little. I know the thing but can't find the word. It's called anomia." Jensen took a breath. "Some days are better, and more words, uh, come to the top. Today, they all sunk."

"So, your language is intact, but your speech comes and goes."

Jensen smiled. Jared had a way with words. "Understanding is always there, talking is for shit."

"Don't say that." Jared shook his head, indulgently. "Will it be better tomorrow?"

"Maybe?” Jensen shrugged. He blinked, put up his wait finger, and went back to his office. He came back and handed Jared a notebook. "Here. This is how I hide."

Jared took his notebook and read, "Hi, I'm Jensen Ackles. I'm Mr. Morgan's paralegal…"

Jensen took the notebook and read fluently, making eye contact where appropriate. "Hi, I'm Jensen Ackles, Mr. Morgan's paralegal. I have prepared a summary for your case, and we will go over it together this afternoon to ensure that all the facts I've stated are correct as we know them."

"Is that what you did when you knew I was coming to meet with you? Wrote a script?"

Jensen looked down. He felt so ashamed, but Jared hadn't run away screaming yet. "Yes." He looked up with a small grin. "Did it work?"

"You know it did."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You had me fooled."

Jensen felt the words slap him across his face.

Jared rushed to say, "I didn't mean it like that. Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it to sound like you were being deceptive. I meant that you did a good job masking your disability. I never suspected a thing. I hope it's okay to say disability. You do hide it and you do your job well. I'm impressed. Are you mad at me, now?"

"Not even a little."

Jared smiled, then a faraway look came to his face. He turned to Jensen and said, "So, is it like you're sitting here silently looking around, knowing what everything is, what everything does, how everything works, maybe even how it’s manufactured, but when you attempt to say what it is, to label it, sometimes the word doesn't appear?"

Jensen sat back and sighed in relief. "Yes. Exactly that."

Jared opened his mouth but snapped it back shut before saying, "That's why Joe said to be patient with you. He knew you had trouble with your speech."

"Yes. He did."

"I wonder why he didn't tell me. I guess he was protecting your privacy."

"I guess he was."

Jared turned fully towards Jensen. "Can I ask you something else and you won't get mad at me?"

"You can."

"How did it happen? It must have been a serious injury. Does it have anything to do with your knee? Do you mind telling me?"

Jensen stared at Jared and saw nothing but concern and interest. It had been a long time since he's been asked about this. And so kindly.

What's wrong with him, anyway?
Why can't he talk right?
Is he retarded?

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jensen had an easy way of explaining it.

"The knee? Yes. Stay, on the sofa," he smiled.

The newspaper article was almost fifteen years old, but he had it laminated to keep it readable. When he first read about himself in the paper, he wanted to destroy it. He's glad he took the opposite route and kept it. This way, in a small way, it reminded him that how he was, wasn't his fault. Sometimes it was his only consolation.

Popular Quarterback Attacked and Left for Dead

The promising career of Ogdenville's starting quarterback, Jensen Ackles, was cut short Saturday morning when he was found brutally attacked outside his home. Without additional evidence or information, the local police are calling it a mugging. Investigators are unable to question Mr. Ackles as he is currently in a coma at Westville General Hospital due to his extensive injuries. According to Coach James Beaver, Ackles had been awarded a full football scholarship to Cornell University and had been accepted into their School of Law. No suspects have been found and no witnesses have come forward.

Jared took several minutes to read this short paragraph, so Jensen figured he must have read it several times. Now that Jared was still here and talking to Jensen, the vise-grip the aphasia had on his speech was letting up a bit. More words were coming into focus.

"A free ride to Cornell?" Jared asked, sadly.

Jensen looked at the floor and nodded.

"Do you mind if I ask you another question or two? If it's too hard to talk about, or you don't want to that’s okay." Jared looked so sincere that Jensen couldn't deny him anything.

"Ask away. I can't change…it… and talking is. Okay." Jensen knew that people were curious about his aphasia. It was a rather rare medical condition, especially the severity of his case. He didn't want Jared to be careful around him and he thought this was a good way to let him know.

"Was it a mugging?"

Jensen was not expecting that question, and all the words that had started to surface dropped like rocks. He began to tremble, and his breaths came in short puffs.

Jared took Jensen's hand. "Jensen calm down, breathe with me. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. Here, breathe, just breathe."

Jensen took breath after breath and looked wide-eyed into Jared's eyes. He shook his head, no, no, no.

"Jensen, please calm…"

"No. Listen. Shit." Jensen stood and paced in wild circles. He pointed his finger at Jared. "You."

"Okay. I'm just going to sit here and wait. Take however long you need to settle whatever happened in your head just now. I'm waiting right here." He spoke gently. "Take your time, Jen."

After several minutes, he got his breathing under control and steadied himself. He took three deep breaths and sat next to Jared on the couch.

Jared turned to him and waited.

Jensen scooted a little closer, took another breath and let it out. Finally, he turned to Jared and said, "Jen?"

Jared snorted a laugh. "I thought it sounded cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah. I think you're cute. Jen's a cute name."

"Shit, Jared. I'm a mess. Not cute." Jensen tried again. "It was not a mugging. But you. Jared. You thought to ask that."

"Goddamn, Jensen. All this time everybody assumed it was a mugging gone bad and it wasn't? And nobody asked you about it?"

Jensen shrugged. "They had already decided it was a mugging. By the time I had enough words. To tell. Too much time had gone. No arrest could be made…for assault. Even for a mugging. And, there were things," Jensen stood and paced a few steps. "Other, other things. Important things why."

"There must have been some very important reasons for you not to report it," Jared said, gently. "Can you tell me?"

Jensen shook his head. "Later. Maybe. Later."

"Okay, maybe later." Jared smiled and let the matter drop for now. "So, three years is the statute of limitations on assault in this state. God, Jensen, does that mean it took you over three years to be able to communicate again?"

"Yes. I'm lucky. At least now, " Jensen began reading, "Refrigerator, sofa, television," and he pointed, "Jared."

"And I don't even have my name tag on."

"See, I'm getting good at this." Jensen stifled a yawn. All of a sudden, he was bone tired. He'd just been on an emotional roller coaster and was feeling the ups and downs.

"You are getting good at this. You're good at a lot of things." Jared waggled his eyebrows.

Jensen snorted. "Don't need words for that."

"Look, I know you weren't expecting company, and I figure you didn't think you'd be explaining your difficulty with word retrieval to the guy you went out with last weekend either."

"Not even a little," he agreed.

"But I like you. You're gorgeous, patient, and interesting. Do you suppose I could get you to go out with me again?" Jared asked.

Jensen made a startled gasp. He was surprised that Jared let the subjects of the mugging and the aphasia drop so quickly, but he was more shocked that Jared wanted to see him again.

"You want to go out with me again? Even though," Jensen waved his hands in the air, "you know?"

Jared smiled warmly, patted the seat next to him and waited for Jensen to sit. "I meant what I said," Jared said softly. "I think you're nice, and I like hanging out with you." Jared whispered into Jensen's ear, "And the sex was amazing."

Jensen blushed to the tips of his ears, but he wouldn't argue with that—even if he could.

"Well." Jensen said, "You should ask me out and see what I say."

"Let's see," Jared grinned. "I’m learning about important dates in history. Wanna be one of them?"

Jensen gave a longsuffering sigh. "Okay. You win. Again."