Behold and See





Art by aqualillium

A while ago, lazy_daze wrote a story - We'll Walk There As The Sun Goes Down - in which she took Sam and Dean out of their normal setting of back-country America and dropped them into London. She talked about how writing what you know is a lot of fun, not only for you as the author but also for people reading it. I've noticed it a lot in other people's writing, and have for a long time wondered what I can write that I 'know' in the SPN/RPS universe.

Then, not too long ago, I took part in a performance of Handel's Messiah, one of the great classical choral works. I talked in my journal about the conductor, about how he was tall and flaily and awesome, and balefully planted in my mind the idea of Jared as a conductor and Jensen as the tenor soloist. The story grew from that tiny seed, becoming bigger and bigger until there was an entire cast of characters and a story that wouldn't stop. I filled half a notebook with notes while I was at work (being paid to write fic, go me!) and have spent the past month or so writing this story. A story set in a world that I know, the world of classical music and performance.

Disclaimer: I have never been a conductor, nor a soloist. I have never sung in an opera and have never attended a professional orchestra rehearsal. I do not know what it is like at Juilliard, or Covent Garden, or any of the other places I mention. I do not know what the procedure is for soloists singing in a performance of a choral work like the Messiah. For all I know, they arrive the day before the performance and get two rehearsals total before they're performing. Any liberties I take are for the sake of the storyline and should not be construed as fact. I have sung in a choir for many years. I have played in an orchestra. I know people who have done solo work. I have listened to the Messiah so many times I could sing it in my sleep. And I love a good romance story with extra servings of schmoop. :) I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Additional disclaimer: I do not actually think Danneel Harris is a bitch, a diva, or a horrible nasty person in any way. I have no opinions regarding her personality, because I have never met her. Her character is The Bad Guy in this story simply because she worked the best in that role.

I have several people to thank for this. First of all, jamesinboots and eireinn for reading it over for me and reassuring me that it's good. balefully for her amazing beta skills, her ability to push me harder and make me a better writer and picking up on every single thing that didn't quite work. Thank you so much!! And finally to tastyeyeliner who sat with me through almost the entire story and pushed me and tugged me and helped me out whenever I was struggling with a plot point. ♥!!!!!

On with the story...

***

It's two weeks before the performance, and the soloists have just arrived in town. Chad's busy arranging their accommodation and transport while Jared tears his hair out trying to get the chorus to sing "And He Shall Purify" without too many mistakes on the runs. The basses are driving him absolutely insane; they bury their noses in their books and refuse to look at him, even though they know the fucking music, they must, most of them are in their sixties and have been singing this music for more years than Jared's lived. Half the sopranos should really be singing alto, and half the altos should really not be singing, but how is he supposed to tell a woman who has been singing the same part in a choir for the past thirty years that she has to change or quit?

It's times like these when Jared really feels his age, or lack thereof.

The orchestra is doing okay; they're professionals whose paychecks depend on them being good, so they're all pulling their weight. Even Chris, who missed three rehearsals this month, and who Jared is pretty sure turned up stoned to the last one, is getting his act together. It's hard to be a disciplinarian since Jared's the new conductor, especially when faced with someone who's been in the orchestra as long as Chris has, and consequently, Jared's been too damned lenient on him. But the guy's cellphone actually rang during the previous rehearsal, and Jared finally laid down the law - one more incident like that, if Chris misses one more rehearsal or turns up late or stoned again, he's out and the second oboe player can take his place. Handel's Messiah only requires a chamber orchestra, after all. Chris had looked at him like he was crazy, but Jared stood his ground and Chris ended up nodding and looking abashed. Discipline problems aside, Jared's a little worried about Steve's debut as Concertmaster. This is his first concert in that role, and he's been quite nervous lately despite sitting next to the old Concertmaster for fifteen years. He knows his way around this orchestra better than Jared does, though, and hopefully he'll be confident in no time.

Probably the only constant in the orchestra is the lead trumpet, Michael. Despite professing to hate the entire work, along with Handel and the fools who spawned him, Mike's played in the Messiah a good twenty times at least and never fails to nail the trumpet solo. Jared's glad to have him, and is quite willing to put up with the crass jokes, pranks, and shiny bald head in exchange for some truly wonderful trumpet playing.

Jared has to confess he's a bit scared of his upcoming meeting with the soloists. Sandy's not going to be much of a problem; they've known each other since they were in their early twenties, and if she can get over her nerves, she'll do a great job. It's Jensen, Danneel and Tom who worry him the most. Jensen recently debuted at Covent Garden, and his Juilliard credentials make him in demand all over the United States. Jared honestly isn't sure how Chad managed to score such a high-profile tenor for the performance, and he suspects that letters from powerful people reminding the man of his roots may have been involved. Chad also warned him about Danneel - apparently she's quite the diva. Jeffrey down in San Antonio had experienced problems with her a few years back and told Chad all about them in excruciating detail, but Jensen's fee was so high that Danneel was the only soprano the orchestra could afford. Also, Chad doesn't think Jared knows, but there were some fairly pointed letters from Danneel's agent, trying to secure the job for her. As for Tom, Jared's heard a lot of good things about him, but he's also heard that Tom's getting a bit absent-minded, and he hopes that he's still able to give a good performance. All in all, the only people Jared can really count on at the moment are himself and Chad.

~~~

Jared gets a call on his cell at seven in the morning on the day the soloists all arrive, and he stumbles out of bed, his hair in his eyes, to rummage through his pants to find it. It's Chad, and Jared wonders what the fuck he's doing up so early on a Saturday.

"Oh god," Chad moans as soon as Jared picks up, "she's a fucking diva."

"Huh?" Jared mumbles.

"Fucking Harris, man. I wish I'd listened to Jeffrey, god, she insists on having her own dressing room, fresh Evian water and roses every day, the fucking works!"

"Not my fault you spent so much on getting Ackles here," Jared grumbles. "And remind me again why you're complaining to me about this? I'm the conductor, not the manager. And who's the manager? Oh, that's right, you're the manager!"

He clicks his phone shut, ignoring Chad's wail, and goes back to bed. Rehearsal's not for another three hours, which means he can get another two and a half hours of sleep.

~~~

Jensen arrives in Dallas the morning of the first rehearsal and goes straight to the hotel he's booked into. It's one of the nicer ones in the city, which is a relief considering some of the dives Jensen stayed in when times were harder for him. He grins to himself and thinks that finally, finally, he's gonna get a bit of the respect he's damn well earned. He just hopes that his manager had the wisdom to have a quiet word to Murray about putting Danneel in a different hotel; he doesn't know if he'll be able to stand being around her more than is absolutely necessary. Next time, he's going to get his manager to check who the other soloists are before he accepts a performance.

As he checks his bags in and catches the elevator up to his room, he idly wonders what the new musical director of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and Chorus is like. Apparently he's young, but good. Jensen purses his lips and once again pulls Jared Padalecki's profile out of his pocket to read. It's got a picture, which Jensen assumes is fairly out of date, because the guy looks about twenty in it. Jensen's gotta admit, Jared's qualifications are pretty damned good - along with his masters degree in music from Oxford University, Jared's got his LTCL in three instruments, and Jensen can't help but be impressed by that.

He hopes the room is spacious; Blake's arriving in two days and he doesn't want to be stuck in some pokey little room with him for the next three weeks.

~~~

Danneel can't believe she's in Dallas. Fucking Dallas. She likes to tell anyone who will listen that she used to sing for the Royal College in England, but doesn't like to mention that that was a good fifteen years ago, when she was in her prime. Her recent career hasn't really been worth mentioning, unfortunately - it's been one bad review after another, and much as she hates it here, Danneel really needs this entire thing in Dallas to go well to give her a boost. She ponders briefly blaming her current ill fortune on Jensen again, but she can't quite manage to place him in the center of it this time. She grumbles quietly to herself when she sees the hotel - could be worse, but could also be better - and the moment she gets to her room, she calls her manager to complain about the lack of Evian water and roses. She's fucking Danneel Harris, if she wants Evian water and roses, she'll damn well get them even if she has to shriek in a most unbecoming way.

~~~

Sandy isn't nervous at all. Not in the slightest. How could she be nervous? She's a good singer - a great one, even - she has a scholarship to attend the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music, and they don't let just anyone in. The fact that this is her first big solo performance isn't important, really. Jared's going to be there with her all the way, and Chad's been nothing but supportive. She just has to wonder whether they only gave her the alto solo because she's their friend, especially considering the fact that Jensen Ackles is going to be singing the tenor solo. Jensen Ackles! When she'd found that out, Sandy had needed to go and throw up for a while. The man is an absolute star, one of the most wonderful singers she's ever heard. She practically idolizes him (there may or may not be a few pictures of him on her wall), and now? She's going to be singing a duet with him in two weeks.

Fifteen minutes before she has to leave for the first rehearsal, Sandy's nerves have gotten the best of her and she's back in the bathroom again, throwing up her meager breakfast.

~~~

It's a little awkward when the soloists arrive in Jared's music room at his home. They trickle in one by one, and Jared is forced to make slightly stilted conversation with Tom Welling, who's the first to arrive, until Sandy turns up and the tension vanishes. Jared leaves the two of them talking while he goes to get a jug of water and some glasses, and he's just returning with them when Jensen arrives.

Jared almost drops the jug. Suddenly, he's very aware of the fact that he hasn't combed his hair today, he's wearing yesterday's creased shirt and pants, and his feet are bare. Jensen's dressed in freshly-ironed slacks and a dress shirt, with a pair of wire-frame glasses on his lightly freckled nose. His hair is dark blond with hints of grey at the temples and is neatly combed, giving Jared an insistent urge to ruffle it, to mess it up.

Jensen glances around the room a little nervously, and Jared hastily wipes his hands on his pants and goes to greet him.

"Jensen Ackles, right?" he says stupidly, as if Jensen could be anyone else. Jensen nods and smiles, and Jared's stomach turns over. He grins and holds out his hand for Jensen to shake; Jensen, with a look of baffled amusement, takes it.

Several uncomfortable seconds pass before Jared realizes he hasn't let go. He quickly drops Jensen's hand and tries to act normal. Tom introduces himself quietly, and Jared can tell when Sandy says hello that she's trying desperately not to show how excited she is.

"Hope I'm not late," Jensen says, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Nah, Danneel's not here yet," Jared replies, and thinks huh to himself when Jensen smirks briefly.

"We can get started without her, right?" Jensen asks. "I mean, the soprano doesn't come in 'til later in the work."

Jared nods. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna let you guys get warmed up, I'll be down in a minute." He leaves the room without waiting for acknowledgment, and stands in the hallway outside for a few moments, listening to his soloists singing scales and running vocal exercises. God, he is so screwed.

Jared spends a few minutes pacing around his bedroom and repeating the quiet mantra Don't fuck the soloist!. He checks himself out in the mirror and runs a comb through his hair as well as changing his shirt and pants before going back downstairs. When he walks back into the room, Jensen doesn't even seem to notice the changes, and Jared's vaguely disappointed. Sandy doesn't miss it; she grins at him and looks pointedly at the shoes he just put on.

"Okay," Jared says, ignoring her and sitting down at the piano, "Danneel still isn't here, but Jensen's right, we can start without her. You guys warmed up enough?" There are nods all around, and Jared flexes his fingers. "We'll start from the beginning, unless anyone has any objections?"

Jared nods at Jensen and starts the introduction to the first tenor accompagnato.

Jared's heard a lot of singers in his time. He's conducted myriad choirs, some very successfully, and has a pretty good idea of what's good.

Jensen's rendition of Comfort Ye leaves him shaken. It soars and aches, high notes swell and send shivers down his spine, and when he gets to the end, Jared finds himself almost tearing up, wondering how he managed to get through the accompaniment without making any mistakes. Jensen really is as good as people say; no, he's better.

"What?" Jensen says impatiently, and Jared realizes he's still just staring.

"Um. Not bad," Jared replies, making sure his voice doesn't shake too much. "Try for a little more strength on 'saith your God', though. And the start is a little strong; can you try to make it a little softer, leave room to grow? And the passage at the end - it needs to be more forceful to lead into the aria."

Jensen frowns, purses his lips like he doesn't like what Jared's said, but he makes a few notes in his music and indicates that they should do it again.

It's even better the second time, and Jared glances around to see Sandy surreptitiously wiping a tear away. Even Tom looks slightly damp-eyed beneath all the hair, and Jared grins.

"Better?" Jensen asks, a look of surprise on his face, like he can't believe Jared actually gave him good advice.

"Fantastic," Jared says, completely truthfully. "Shall we continue?"

Jensen nods, and looks like he is almost vibrating with eagerness to sing the aria following his recitative. Jared's certainly keen to hear how Jensen handles the runs and trills. It's everything he expected; Jensen's voice rises effortlessly up to the high notes, slides easily through the runs, and he has no problems holding the notes for as long as he needs to. His ad lib at the end is impressive, and Jared thinks it might be the first time since he started conducting nearly ten years ago that he hasn't needed to give any advice at all.

Despite the lack of Danneel, Jared counts the entire rehearsal a success. Sandy manages to break through the burst of nerves that stifled her at first, and seems inordinately pleased when Jensen insists that they rehearse the duet at the end. Tom's got a good solid voice, with impressive volume in the lower registers, and Jared can't see any reason to think he'll have difficulties.

Jensen and Tom head off at lunchtime, leaving Sandy and Jared alone.

"God, I'm in love," Jared groans, flopping down on the sofa in the music room once he's checked that Jensen has indeed left and isn't lurking outside the door.

"You and me both," Sandy sighs, sitting down next to him. "Don't tell my fiancé, though; I don't think he'd understand."

Jared sits up. "This is going to be bad," he says. "I can't have a crush on one of the soloists, it'll be distracting. Also, I don't want to go down in history as that conductor who had a boner all through the Messiah."

"Then fuck him and get him out of your system," Sandy says logically.

"Mmmm," Jared sighs, his eyes glazing over thinking about it. Sandy pokes him in the side, distracting him from his rather nice fantasy of bending Jensen over the piano, messing up his hair and stripping off his neatly-pressed clothes to see what's underneath.

"I thought I was supposed to be the silly fangirl," she says, and Jared shrugs.

"Can't blame me, can you? He's incredible. And Jesus Christ, his voice is amazing."

"Yeah," Sandy agrees. "But Jared, I gotta say... he doesn't strike me as very, you know... gay."

Jared ignores her, glances at the clock on the wall, and curses. "Fuck, I gotta call Chad and find out why the hell Danneel didn't show," he grumbles. "I wish we'd been able to get a better soprano. She's gonna be kind of a nightmare."

"I'll leave you to it," Sandy says, getting up and letting herself out.

~~~

Danneel hadn't gone to the morning rehearsal; her stupid manager neglected to tell her about it, and then had the balls to get angry with her for forgetting. She has half a mind to fire him, but he managed to negotiate a good fee for her doing this concert, so she supposes he can stay a little longer. He got the water and roses for her room, at least, although she's been told she will be sharing a dressing room with the alto because there are only two available and they can't very well put a woman in with two men. Danneel snorts to herself; men indeed. Jensen's about as manly as a twelve year old girl, and she seriously doubts Tom knows what to do with his dick besides pissing.

"I think Padalecki's angry with you," her manager snipes at her over the phone when she gets into the cab outside her hotel. "You knew about this rehearsal, I told you a thousand times, sent you a dozen emails, and you chose not to remember. I refuse to take any blame for this."

"Well, fuck you too," she says archly, and hangs up on him. Perhaps she will fire the arrogant prick.

Apparently the rehearsal starts at seven PM; Danneel figured that was when the orchestra was supposed to arrive and do their tuning, and the soloists wouldn't be starting for a while. She's surprised to walk in the door of the rehearsal room at the Meyerson Symphony Center to discover the rehearsal in full swing already. The door slams behind her, and the orchestra grinds to a halt.

"I- I'm sorry," she stutters, suddenly feeling abashed at having every single eye on her. There's a tall man with floppy hair and a rumpled shirt standing in front of the orchestra; he must be the great Padalecki everyone keeps raving about. He's just a boy!

He puts his baton down and walks over to her, a big smile on his face. "Danneel Harris, I'm guessing?" he says, holding out his hand for her to shake. She takes it and isn't surprised to find it sweaty, and manages to resist the urge to wipe her own hand on her pants when she lets go.

"And you must be Jared Padalecki," she purrs, turning on the charm. She knows she's got a great smile, and she uses it to her advantage as often as possible. Jared blinks at her and smiles back half-heartedly, before pointing over to where the other soloists are.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you. Although I think probably you know some of them already."

"Unfortunately so," Danneel mutters quietly. She finally gets up the nerve to look Jensen in the eye, and is not surprised in the least to see a stoic, unresponsive expression on his face.

"Danneel," he says carefully, disinterestedly, and she nods in return. No point raising hell here and now; they have to sing in the same concert no matter what their feelings on the matter are, and Danneel, for once, doesn't want to make a scene.

Tom hasn't changed a bit since she last saw him a year or two ago, except he's put on a little weight and she's sure he's even hairier than he used to be. He offers his hand to shake and Danneel cringes when she takes it, trying not to touch the dark hair creeping up to the backs of his hands.

"And this is Sandra McCoy," Jared says. The alto soloist he indicates is some tiny local girl, no doubt excited just to be asked to perform with someone like Danneel, to finally get her big break. The girl smiles widely at Danneel, eyes all crinkled up unattractively and too-big teeth shining, and Danneel nods briefly back. She can't believe she's doing this.

~~~

Sandy never felt instant hatred for anyone before she met Danneel Harris.

~~~

Tom greets Danneel without much interest. They know each other a little, and he can't really say he cares for her much. Also, Tom can't take his eyes off the guy playing the lead trumpet. He's as bald as Tom is hairy, and wow, he has the sexiest eyes and mouth. Suddenly, Tom feels nervous for the first time since arriving in Dallas.

~~~

Jared's torn between relief and frustration when Danneel walks in half an hour late. He tries his best to be nice and welcoming, but the disdain on her face when she looks around the rehearsal room makes him irrationally angry, and he quickly turns back to the orchestra before he can say something nasty.

"Danneel, you can go and warm up in the choir room; we'll be doing your first solo soon," he says, glancing briefly at her, relieved when she nods and leaves. "Alright, guys, from the start of 'For Behold' again. Keep it as steady as possible, and don't rush Tom. Tom, try not to get out of time with the orchestra."

Tom looks slightly abashed when Jared says that, but nods, and this time he manages to stay mostly in time. The first run-through, Jared had been forced to continually slow down the orchestra so they didn't sound completely out of sync. He's pleased when they're finished, and he tells Tom so.

Next up is Danneel's recitative, and Jared is about to send the second trumpet to go find her when she reappears. She takes her place at the front of the orchestra, looking confident, and Jared really hopes she's good, because two weeks from the performance is not much time to find a replacement if she's useless. He sits down at the harpsichord to accompany her recitative, and she looks down her nose at him.

"You're going to play that while you're conducting?" she asks, shock coloring her voice.

Jared blinks owlishly at her, confused. He's always done this, and he can do it; why would she have a problem with it? "Yes," he replies succinctly, "I am."

Danneel frowns, but doesn't comment further, and they finally get going. She's not too bad, Jared concedes. He's heard better, but he's also heard worse. He cuts the orchestra off before 'Glory to God'.

"The last line of that recitative; can you make it a little stronger? The orchestra's going to be coming in forte for the next chorus, and your voice really needs to rise above it." Jared thinks he says it quite nicely, and is unprepared for Danneel's reaction.

"I'm sorry," she says venomously, "I've been singing the Messiah for fifteen years. You have been conducting it for maybe fifteen days. I think I know the volume I need to sing, thank you."

Jared stares at her, lost for words. The orchestra mutters angrily behind him, and Jared's about to say something when he sees Jensen out of the corner of his eye. He's rolling his eyes heavenward, a look of resignation on his face. He adjusts his collar and clears his throat, and Danneel turns to look at him.

"Don't you dare fuck with him," he says, just loud enough for Danneel and Jared to hear, but quietly enough that hardly anyone else could have. It's over within a second, but gives Jared time to find his feet.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Jared says to Danneel. "However, since I'm the one conducting this performance, we'll do things my way, even if it's not what you're used to. From the start again, please?"

When he turns back to the orchestra, they're all grinning at him, and Mike gives him two thumbs up.

~~~

By the time the practice is over, Jared's exhausted. It's nearing eleven o'clock, but fortunately it's Sunday tomorrow and he has nothing urgent he needs to do. He's looking forward to collapsing on his bed and sleeping until noon, maybe get some takeout for lunch and sit on the couch all day watching DVDs and eating.

The rehearsal room quickly empties; Danneel was the first to leave, her face pinched and ugly. It's not long before it's just Jared, putting away his music stand and shoving the harpsichord back to its corner.

"You need a hand with that?" a voice says, startling Jared enough that he trips over his feet and falls flat on his face on the floor.

"Ow," he says faintly, thinking that maybe he'll just stay here for a minute or so until the pain goes away a little.

"Crap, you okay?" Jared lifts his head, his vision clearing enough for him to see the worried face of Jensen staring at him. Jensen puts his hand out to help Jared up, and Jared takes it, getting back on his feet and dusting himself off.

"Wow. Heh. Sorry about that," Jensen says, looking faintly amused. Jared feels himself redden; he's clumsy, but he'd been hoping for Jensen not to find that out quite so soon.

"Um. I, uh, I thought everyone had left," Jared says, stumbling over his words like he's an awkward teenager again. "But yeah, now that you mention it, I could do with a hand."

Jensen grins and nods, going to the other side of the harpsichord.

"Thanks for earlier," Jared says quietly, his face still flaming. He hates Danneel, hates her for trying to undermine his authority, for making him feel like a little boy, hates that Jensen had had to come to his aid. But at the same time, he's also stupidly pleased that Jensen hadn't hesitated to speak up for him.

"It was nothing," Jensen says, helping Jared push the harpsichord to the side of the room. "We, uh, me and Danneel have a history of sorts."

Jared nods and wipes his hands off on his pants before stretching his arms above his head, popping his back and sighing in relief. "Yeah, I picked up on something like that," he says, heart sinking as Jensen all but confirms his straightness. "Can I ask what happened?"

Jensen's face closes up. "I'd rather you didn't, not right now," he says softly. He frowns and looks a little flustered, turning away and taking his glasses off to clean them on the hem of his shirt.

Jared shrugs. "That's cool," he says lightly. "Hey, you need a ride back to your hotel?"

Jensen turns back to him and Jared gets a flash of green eyes and long lashes before Jensen puts his glasses back on. He looks genuinely regretful when he says, "Thanks, but I just called a cab a few minutes ago and it's probably already here."

"No problem, another time maybe," Jared replies, hiding his disappointment by going to the front of the room to turn the lights off.

They walk out together, and Jensen's cab is indeed waiting for him.

"Good practice," Jensen says abruptly, clapping Jared on the back. "Next one's Tuesday, right?"

"Y-yeah," Jared stutters, the heat from Jensen's palm soaking through his jacket. "Um, is ten in the morning okay for you? My place? It'll just be you; I'm doing individual rehearsals this week."

Jensen grins widely, his face lighting up, and nods. "Sounds good. See you later."

Jared feels like a bit of a dork when he waves to Jensen as the cab pulls away. His heart is pounding and he feels almost feverish. Tuesday can't come fast enough, and in the meantime, Jared's going to do a little digging.

~~~

Some of the younger members of the orchestra head out for a few drinks after the rehearsal, both to unwind and also to discuss recent events. Mike hates the word 'gossip', but readily accepts that he's worse than an old biddy when it comes to spreading and loving it. Tonight, however, he's not in very good form, which is particularly surprising given what went on at the practice. He finds himself sipping his beer slowly, staring at the air above Chris' head, and almost spills his drink when Steve nudges him.

"Dude, wake up!" Steve says with a laugh.

"What?" Mike snaps, a little grumpily, his vision of thick, dark hair and piercing blue eyes rudely interrupted.

"Steve's gonna spill the beans about Danneel," Chris says, leaning close, and Mike's eyes light up.

"You know her?" he asks Steve disbelievingly.

"Kinda," Steve says. "More like I know Jensen. We went to high school together and kept in touch when he went to Juilliard."

Lauren and Katie, two of the cellists, stop chatting and lean in close.

"It's not exactly a secret," Steve admits, "but Jensen doesn't really like to talk about it."

He lowers his voice, and the other members of the orchestra crowd around to hear the story.

~~~

Chad is going to have nightmares about this for the rest of his life. He clicks his cellphone shut, wishing there was a way to slam it down violently. He doesn't care what the repercussions are, he's going to call and email everyone in the business and blacklist Danneel to ensure no one ever hires her again. He frantically leafs through his notebook filled with the names of Dallas singers, just in case there's someone he can get in to replace Danneel at short notice.

His eyes fall on one name - she's a recent graduate from Dallas University, with good marks in vocal performance. Older, less experienced, probably won't get far from Dallas with her singing, but she's a definite possibility. Chad looks at the clock and decides that it's never too late to call someone when you're this desperate. Hopefully she can do it, and then Chad can have the distinct pleasure of calling Danneel's manager and telling him he's breaking the contract even if he has to pay her the fee anyway. He really doesn't care at this stage; the amount of money Jensen will bring in should more than make up for the loss.

~~~

Jared spends a little time on the computer when he gets home, trying to find out anything he can about Jensen. Unfortunately, the man has succeeded in keeping any information about his private life completely private, and Jared curses softly. He calls Chad, hoping to get more info, but Chad's line is busy. He'll just have to get Jensen to tell Jared himself, and Jared's pretty sure he'll be able to accomplish that eventually. He can be damned charming when he puts his mind to it.

Lying in bed, Jared can't help thinking of Jensen's bright green eyes, his wide smile, and his hands all over Jared's body. He wonders what Jensen looks like under his neatly pressed clothes, imagines shoving a hand into that nicely combed hair and messing it up. Thinks about licking down the long line of his neck, Jensen shivering and pliant under his tongue, Jared drawing out sounds of pleasure and want.

Jared rolls over and buries his face in his pillows. God, this is so wrong. He ignores his insistent dick, resisting the urge to hump his mattress until he comes in his boxers. He's still achingly hard when he finally falls asleep; his dreams are full of Jensen, and he wakes in the morning to find his shorts and sheets sticky with come.

~~~

It's late when Steve gets back to the apartment he shares with Chris. Chris is almost falling over drunk, and Steve struggles to keep him from tumbling down the steps while he fumbles for his key, his own head swimming with beer. Eventually he gets inside, deposits Chris on his bed with a strategically placed bucket, and goes to try to wash off the drunken guilt he's feeling for telling people about Jensen's past.

~~~

Despite his plans to laze around his house the next day, Jared finds himself showered and dressed by ten o'clock. He putters aimlessly around for a while, wandering in and out of rooms, sitting down at the piano for a few minutes to play something before getting bored and moving on. Eventually, he grabs his score of the Messiah and his mp3 player and heads into town. There's a small, out-of-the-way cafe just down the road from the symphony center, and Jared manages to score a small table on the footpath where he can sip a coffee and peruse the score while listening to the music. The waitress knows him by now, and he doesn't even need to ask for his usual order of eggs, home fries, sausages and tomatoes with plenty of ketchup.

It's a warm day, not too hot yet, and the awning on the cafe is keeping most of the sun off Jared's face. He eats his food and reads through his score, humming along with the music and occasionally conducting an imaginary orchestra with his knife and fork, completely oblivious to any and all puzzled stares he receives. Every so often he spills a little ketchup on his score, the tablecloth or his shirt, but he's lost in the music and barely even notices the stains.

He's muttering along with 'But Who May Abide' when a shadow falls across the table, and he squints up into the bright light to see Jensen standing next to him, a look of faint amusement on his face. Jared makes an undignified noise and drops his knife and fork on his plate, splattering ketchup all over the table and Jensen's white shirt.

"Shit! Fuck!" Jared yelps, tearing his headphones off and grabbing for his napkin. He hurriedly dips it in his glass of water and starts dabbing at the ketchup on Jensen's shirt, cursing himself for being so damned clumsy. "God, I'm sorry, man, you startled me," he babbles, frantically trying to get rid of the bright red splodges.

He suddenly becomes aware of what he's doing; Jensen's shirt is white, and the water Jared's just soaked it with has made it almost completely see-through. He can see Jensen's nipples through the fabric, small and tight from the cool dampness, and suddenly Jared feels overly warm and flushed. He cringes and pulls away.

All through the drama, Jensen hasn't said a word; Jared looks up at him, a little terrified of seeing what will no doubt be an expression of frustration with Jared's idiocy. He's surprised to see that Jensen's struggling not to burst out laughing, and he sits back, chucking the ketchup-stained napkin down on the table.

"Sit down," he sighs, indicating the empty chairs at the table next to him. Jensen drags a chair across and sits down opposite Jared, his face still creased up in open amusement.

"Good morning to you too," he says, taking off his glasses and wiping them clean with Jared's napkin. God, there's still ketchup on him, but now it's spread out and faint from the water.

"I am so sorry," Jared says again. "I, uh, I can wash that for you."

Jensen dismisses the offer with a wave of his hand. "Nah, I'll just toss it in the laundry at the hotel. They'll get the stains out; I imagine they've dealt with worse."

"I swear, I do try not to be a total klutz," Jared says earnestly.

"Actually, I think conductors are supposed to be kinda clumsy," Jensen says thoughtfully. "It goes with the wild arm-waving and general air of disheveled genius."

"Yeah, I got the disheveled part down pat," Jared sighs. "I crumple clothes just by looking at them." He glances down at his shirt and pants, which were clean and ironed when he put them on less than an hour ago. Now they're covered in small dots of ketchup and are so rumpled he might as well have pulled them out of his laundry pile.

The waitress stops by to see if Jensen wants anything, and looks a little shocked at the state of the table. Jared blushes bright red with shame and buries his face in his hands while Jensen orders a plate of pancakes.

"You're from Dallas, right?" Jared says after a few moments of somewhat uncomfortable silence. He already knows most of Jensen's professional profile, but it's something to talk about.

"Yeah," Jensen says, smiling a little. "I used to come to this cafe a lot before I went to New York."

"Oh man," Jared sighs, sitting back in his chair and stretching his arms, feeling the muscles lengthen. "New York... you know, I've never been to New York. Been most everywhere else, but never there."

"You're lucky," Jensen grunts. He thanks the waitress, who's just left him a cup of coffee, and lifts it to his lips. Jared's eyes fix on Jensen's large hands, looking almost comically huge around the tiny cup, and he finds himself watching Jensen swallow, his Adam's apple shifting.

"Lucky?" Jared parrots, not really paying attention. There's a small droplet of coffee on Jensen's upper lip, and he lifts a thumb to wipe it away, seemingly unaware of Jared's unwavering gaze.

"Dude, I'm from Dallas," Jensen explains. "New York? It's like a completely different country."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "You've been to England, right? That is a different country, man. Christ, it took me two years just to understand them when they spoke."

"I've been wanting to ask you - why Oxford?" Jensen asks, sounding interested. "There's plenty of good schools here, y'know. You probably coulda gone to Juilliard with your skills."

Jared shrugs. "We went to the UK for a holiday when I was a teenager. My dad's all into education, so he dragged me around all the universities - Oxford, Cambridge, UCL, King's , the works. Seemed to think it was the best place in the world to be educated. And I, uh, I got a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford after I'd done my undergraduate degree down at UTSA."

"Wow," Jensen says, sounding impressed. "Rhodes, eh?"

Jared grins in what he hopes is a cute and self-effacing sort of way. "Yeah. I ain't as stupid as I act." He winks, and Jensen laughs.

"Anyone ever tell you you got a weird accent?" he says thoughtfully.

Jared frowns. "Weird how?" Weird can be good, he tells himself. Or off-putting and repellent. He doesn't even consider those options.

"I dunno," Jensen says. "It's like, you've got this one hundred percent pure Texas accent, but every so often you'll say something that sounds a bit British and I'll do a double take. It's kinda cool."

"Yeah, that's what three years at Oxford will do to you, I s'pose," Jared says. "Just you wait 'til you've been singing at Covent Garden a few years, you'll be the same."

"Yeah, Covent Garden," Jensen sighs.

"You didn't like it?" Jared asks, surprised.

"Did... when you were at Oxford, did you feel like some stupid country hick at first?" Jensen's frowning a little.

"Only for the first two years," Jared reassures him. "It got better. Why, did they give you shit roles or something?"

"No, not really. They gave me Don Ottavio, from Don Giovanni, and that was pretty amazing. I just never felt like I really belonged there. Most people were awesome, and I made some good friends, but every so often some diva with this fancy British accent would look down their nose at me when they heard me talk, Juilliard credentials and references notwithstanding. Kinda didn't like it much and I'm not entirely looking forward to going back right now."

"Do you have to?"

Jensen sighs. "Yeah, when I'm done here I gotta go back for Faust; I'm the understudy for the lead role and rehearsals start in three weeks. After that, though?" He shrugs. "I guess I could do what I want, as long as people want to hear me singing."

"I know I do," Jared says under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Come back here when you're done," Jared says with a grin. "We're doing Bach's St Matthew Passion in about six months. You could be the Evangelist. You'd be amazing."

Jensen leans back in his chair and smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up and making Jared's heart leap in his chest. "I do have good reason to settle down," he admits.

"Yeah? Got someone special I don't know about?" Jared asks lightheartedly, hoping to get a no and terrified of hearing a yes.

"Sort of," Jensen says evasively. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, and Jared's sure he's about to see a picture of Jensen's pretty blonde girlfriend. Instead, he's shown a picture of a young man in his late teens, with dark blond hair and green eyes.

"That's my son," Jensen says quietly.

Jared takes the picture with shaky fingers, careful not to smear the front of it. "Your... your son?" he says stupidly, staring at the boy.

"Blake. His name's Blake."

"How old is he?" Jared asks.

"Turned seventeen a month ago," Jensen says. He looks proud. "He... he got a scholarship to UT Dallas. Full ride."

"But... you're only, you must have had him when you were..."

"Nineteen," Jensen confirms, looking a little sad.

"Wow," Jared breathes. "I had no idea. He- wow. He looks so much like you." It's true; Blake has Jensen's piercingly green eyes and his hair, although he doesn't smooth it down like his father. Once again, Jared has to resist the urge to mess Jensen up a little.

"Looks like his mother too," Jensen says grimly, and Jared looks at him unblinkingly. He's not gonna ask, but he doesn't have to. "His- his mother, it's Danneel."

Ah.

"That explains a lot," Jared says carefully, hoping his implied go on is subtly obvious.

"Yeah," Jensen replies, "it does." He doesn't elaborate, and Jared doesn't push. He shrugs and drains the last dregs of his cold coffee, and orders another cup for both of them when the waitress arrives with Jensen's pancakes.

"Hey, sorry to ruin the mood," Jensen apologizes, picking up his knife and fork. "You gotta tell me some of your secrets now. Got a girlfriend? Wife? Illegitimate child?"

Jared shakes his head. "Nah. I dated Sandy, once. But it really didn't work out."

Jensen laughs a little. "Too much woman for you, I bet."

Jared nods. "Exactly the problem."

It takes a moment for Jensen to realize what Jared's just said, and he sits back, surprise on his face.

"You..." he flounders.

"Yeah," Jared finishes, taking advantage of Jensen's surprise to steal a blueberry from his plate.

"Huh." Jensen swipes his finger through the leftover foam on his coffee cup, and sucks it into his mouth. Jared's eyes follow the movement, and Jensen winks at him. "So. Got a boyfriend?"

Jared gives Jensen a half-smile. "Haven't really met anyone who lives up to my standards," he confesses.

"And what standards are those?" Jensen sounds genuinely interested, and Jared leans forward on the table as if to confide a secret.

"Tall. Gorgeous. Beautiful eyes, a blinding grin. Hair that I can get my fingers caught in and mess up. Talented, passionate about music. Willing to put up with my messiness and clumsiness. Smart. Successful. Caring and loving. Easy to talk to." He leans back a little and looks Jensen right in the eye, a huge grin on his face. "And a nice ass really helps, too." He feels relieved that his awkwardness from earlier has faded; Jensen's surprisingly easy to talk to, and has managed to put Jared at his ease.

Jensen nods and smiles slyly. "I dunno, man. You've got pretty high standards. You might need to drop them a little."

Jared shrugs. "I'll find him one day." He glances away and taps his fingers on the table. "Who knows, I mighta met him already."

He turns back to see a faint smile on Jensen's face. "You never know," Jensen agrees.

Their new cups of coffee arrive, and they sit quietly in the increasingly hot sun finishing their breakfast. It's not awkward at all, and Jared feels a warmth in his belly that has nothing to do with the coffee.

~~~

They end up sitting outside the cafe until after lunch, at which point Jensen expresses an interest in seeing the stage at the Meyerson Symphony Center. Jared grins, fishing his keys and access card out of his pocket, and before Jensen knows it Jared's unlocking the door to the backstage area and leading him through the labyrinthine passages to the stage.

He stands back, lets Jensen walk out onto the stage and stare into the dark hall. It's vast; pretty damned scary, actually with no lights on except the small stage light Jared flicked on.

"Not bad, huh?" Jared says from behind him. Jensen turns to see him leaning against the side wall, and smiles at him before going over to the piano and playing a note. He walks into the center of the stage, clears his throat, and begins to sing.

"Comfort ye.... comfort ye, my people."

Jensen feels like his voice should vanish into the dark, be swallowed up by the space, but it rings loud and clear, filling the space and reverberating around the hall. It's almost effortless to sing well here, to hit the notes truly and confidently. He doesn't hear Jared moving behind him; doesn't realize he's moved 'til he hears him start playing the piano, entering seamlessly and quietly to accompany him.

Jensen's voice continues to echo through the empty hall even when he's finished and fallen silent. He gazes around in awe, and turns back to Jared with a grin. "Awesome acoustics," he says, and Jared nods, a dreamy and unfocused look on his face.

"'s one of my favorite parts of the entire thing, that recitative," he eventually mumbles, closing his score.

"You and me both," Jensen says quietly, nudging Jared across the seat and sitting next to him. He opens up the score again, leafing through it until he finds 'But Thou didst not leave', another of his favorites. Jared doesn't hesitate to start playing, barely even looking at the keyboard. Jensen's always been in awe of people who can play the piano as easily as breathing; in awe and a little jealous. He inhales and starts singing, quietly and gently, not projecting like he normally would, feeling like he's performing just for Jared.

When the song ends, Jensen has a funny feeling in his stomach, and Jared isn't looking at him.

"Awesome," Jared says quietly, closing his score, and stands up. He doesn't seem to be able to look Jensen in the eye, and Jensen can't help but wonder if he screwed something up.

Jared locks the doors and turns out the lights when they leave, and when they get outside, they part ways with a brief goodbye.

Jensen heads back to his hotel, intending to call Steve and see if he's busy tonight. He feels the need to get drunk and isn't sure why; the music of the Messiah has never gotten to him before.

The moment Jared gets home, he's on the phone to Chad. He doesn't even bother trying to cover up why he's calling - Chad might be a social retard sometimes, but he's no idiot, and he's known Jared long enough to be able to see through all his bullshit.

"I need info on Jensen," Jared says abruptly when Chad picks up.

"Hello to you too," Chad bitches in return. "Info? What kind? I already gave you his profile."

"No, not professional stuff. What he's like. Who he's dated, what he does for fun, you know."

"Like, is he straight or gay?" Chad asks, hitting the nail on the head.

Jared sighs. "That too."

"Fuck, man," Chad complains, "ask him yourself. I'm having a fucking crisis at the moment and trying to sort out your love life is not in my fucking contract."

"Crisis?" Jared's interest is piqued.

"It's Danneel," Chad says, sounding incredibly pissed off. "Her manager called and said she's been complaining about you to him for something that happened at last night's rehearsal."

Jared blinks, puzzled. "What the hell? You mean that I told her that I'm the one in charge, not her?"

"Yeah," Chad sighs. "And it's fucked up cause I was there, and I wanted to fucking hit her for what she said."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've been talking to Fredric Lehne at the university; he's got a new grad who would be a good soprano. She's older and not very experienced but she spent the past year studying the fucking Messiah and I'm telling you man, I do not want that Harris bitch here anymore. I'll pay her the fucking fee if she'll just go away. Ackles is bringing in the crowds; we've had to open up the top two tiers which we weren't expecting, and we'll make enough to cover it and then some."

"So who's the new soprano?"

"Some chick called Samantha Smith. I'm gonna meet her and Fred in an hour, you wanna come?"

"Definitely," Jared asserts.

"Great. Meet me outside the Meyerson at three. Oh, and Jared? You want info on Jensen, you call Steve."

"Steve?"

"Steve Carlson? First violin, the Concertmaster? He's been friends with Jensen since they were in high school together here in Dallas. If anyone knows anything, it'll be him."

Jared clicks his phone shut and sighs. Getting information on Jensen might be more challenging than he suspected.

~~~

If this pans out, Chad is going to absolutely relish telling Danneel Harris that she's no longer required to sing. It'll be the high point of the entire fucking year.

~~~

It doesn't take much to get Steve to agree to go out for a drink. He drops by Jensen's hotel, and they head off together to one of Steve's favorite bars. He's a little surprised at how quickly Jensen starts knocking back the beers; for as long as he's known him, Jensen has been the one who carries Steve's drunken ass home, not the other way round.

"Dude," Steve finally says, after Jensen downs his third beer in half an hour and looks like he's about to go get another, "you okay?"

"Fine," Jensen says with a sigh. "It's just been a weird sorta day."

"Please tell me you didn't go and see Danneel," Steve groans.

"Fuck no!" Jensen says with a scowl. "God, I don't want to see any more of her than I have to. I don't think I'll ever forgive her for what she did to Blake." His face darkens with anger, and Steve sits back a little.

"That was over ten years ago, man," he says, trying to be reasonable.

"Yeah, I know," Jensen replies softly. "And I've never been able to bring myself to tell Blake the real reason he never sees his mother. "

"She's seriously fucked up, man," Steve asserts. "Just forget about her."

"I can drink to that," Jensen says with a grin, and goes to get them more beers. Steve watches his friend walk over to the bar, and wonders what's really going on. It's been years since Jensen allowed Danneel to get to him.

He eats a few peanuts from the bowl on the table, and thinks that maybe, just maybe, Jensen needs to get laid. Hell, it always makes him feel better when life's being a bitch.

Jensen gets steadily drunker as the evening progresses, and Steve can't stop him; eventually he gives up the idea of getting his best friend laid, and decides to concentrate on getting him home in one piece.

Unfortunately, getting Jensen out onto the street and towards a cab proves troublesome - his legs aren't working properly, and Steve's none too sober himself. He imagines they must look pretty comical, and they're almost to the cab when Jensen's legs give out completely and he falls, dragging Steve down with him.

"Holy crap," a new voice says from above them, "are you guys okay?"

Steve looks up and sees Jared and Chad staring down at him and Jensen, twin looks of amusement on their faces.

"I'm fine," Steve says, angry. "Dunno about this drunken ass, though." He stands up, trying to pull Jensen up with him, but his friend seems to have decided that the ground is a great place to be right now, and isn't helping.

"Here, let me," Jared says, and reaches down to help Steve haul Jensen to his feet. Once he's upright, Jensen sways and collapses against Jared's chest.

"Jesus," Steve mumbles. "Sorry, he's not usually like this."

"What the hell's wrong with him?" Chad asks, staring at Jared and Jensen with a funny look on his face. Jared's holding Jensen carefully, and looks surprised.

"Dunno," Steve says. "I thought it mighta been Danneel, but I'm not so sure anymore. I mean, it's years since their divorce, and he hasn't let her get to him for fucking ages."

"Steve?" Jared says carefully, "What happened between Jensen and Danneel?"

"Married at nineteen, had a kid seven months later, divorced three months after that. Danneel refused to have anything to with the kid, said she'd only gone through with the pregnancy and married Jensen because if she didn't she'd lose her inheritance. No bastards allowed in the Harris line; better to have a divorce and a kid who you don't want and never see because he reminds you of what a fuck-up you were seventeen years ago." Steve's almost surprised at how bitter he sounds; clearly, Jensen isn't the only one who still hasn't forgiven Danneel.

"Why does she hate Jensen so much?" Jared asks, his gaze piercing.

"Why do you think?" Steve snaps. "As if them having a drunken fuck and a kid in the bargain wasn't enough, they got hitched and then Jensen decided to come out. Can't believe the idiot didn't tell her before the fucking wedding. He knew she was crazy about him."

"Wait, Jensen's gay?" Chad says disbelievingly.

Steve suddenly realizes what he's said, and once again curses his inability to hold his tongue while drunk. "Fuck," he says quietly. "Don't tell Jensen I told you; he's paranoid that his career will be affected if people find out, especially here in Texas."

Chad shrugs. "Hey, I don't care who he fucks, as long as he sings well."

Steve looks at Jared, who smiles crookedly at him. "Be a bit of a hypocrite if I had a problem with that, wouldn't I?" he says, sounding amused. His fingers idly stroke the back of Jensen's neck, and Jensen, who seems to be half-asleep, mumbles softly and moves into the touch.

Steve eyes Jensen and Jared thoughtfully, a vague plan forming in his mind. "Don't suppose you're sober enough to drive?" he asks Jared. "I don't really wanna put him in a cab, he might not get back up to his room."

"I'll take him," Jared says softly. "Chad and I can celebrate another time."

"Celebrate?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, I fucking fired Danneel," Chad says happily, a huge grin on his face.

"Really?" Steve's surprised, but then, it's Jared and Chad who have had to put up with most of her shit, and he can't really blame them for getting rid of her. "Who's gonna do the soprano solo?"

Chad grins even wider. "Found a soprano by the name of Samantha Smith, new grad, voice like a fucking angel. And she's actually nice."

"Awesome," Steve says. "That might cheer Jensen up." Jared might be able to help there as well, he thinks.

"Speaking of," Jared says, "I better get him home before he passes out and I have to carry him."

"Good plan, thanks man," Steve says, and watches Jared help Jensen down the street to his truck, conveniently parked only a block away.

"Guess I'm celebrating alone," Chad mutters. "Unless you feel up to another round."

Steve shrugs; it's not like he has to get up early tomorrow. As they head back into the bar, Chad says, "Jared has a huge crush on Jensen. Just sayin'."

"Huh," Steve says. "Never woulda guessed."

~~~

Jensen wakes up in the morning with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as the fucking Sahara. From the taste, something must've died in there fairly recently. He rolls over and forces open his crusted-over eyes, spying a glass of water and two small white pills within reach. He pulls himself upright, downing the pills with as much water as he can stomach and collapses back onto the bed, hoping his queasiness won't come to anything. His last thought before he drifts off to sleep again is this doesn't look like my hotel room.

He wakes again what must be several hours later; the sun is doing its level best to shine through the thick curtains on the window. Jensen sits up and stares around, wondering where the hell he is, how he got here, and - looking under the covers - who undressed him. Fortunately, whoever it was at least left his underwear on.

The room is plainly decorated: just the bed, a bedside table and a small chest of drawers with a chair beside it. Jensen's clothes are nowhere in sight, and he's about to panic when he sees a dark blue bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. The entire place screams 'guest room', and Jensen thinks back to the night before, trying to remember what led up to him being here. He remembers being at the bar with Steve, drinking far too much for reasons he can't remember, and has a vague memory of seeing Jared and Chad. It's blank from there, and he hopes that someone is going to be able to fill in the gaps.

The same person who kindly put him to bed and left water and painkillers for him also left his glasses, and he's relieved to have the room spring into focus - he always feels nervous without them, like there's things going on that he can't be a part of. He drains the glass of water by the bed, feeling much better, but a shower and a good brushing of his teeth would go a long way towards making him feel like a person again. Pulling the robe on and keeping an eye out for his missing clothes, he opens the door and immediately realizes where he is - it's Jared's house.

"Crap," Jensen whispers to himself. Being taken home stinking drunk by the conductor? God, he's never going to live it down. He suddenly has the urgent need to find a bathroom, and is lucky enough that the first door he tries is the right one. He pisses for what feels like hours before washing his face, unsurprised at his hangdog and hungover appearance when he looks in the mirror. There's a tube of toothpaste on the sink, and Jensen squeezes a little onto his finger and swishes it around with a mouthful of water to try to get rid of the awful taste.

Venturing into the hall, Jensen smells what can only be bacon cooking. In the kitchen, he finds Jared standing at the stove, frying up bacon. He's wearing navy pajama bottoms, sitting low on his hips with the cuffs dragging on the floor, and a bright red apron. He isn't wearing a shirt, and Jensen briefly admires the tanned muscles of his back and arms. There's a plate of sausages steaming on the counter next to him, and Jensen's stomach rumbles loudly enough to be heard over the sizzling.

"Morning!" Jared says loudly, not turning around. "Was wondering when you'd surface." He flicks the bacon out of the pan, switches off the burner, and turns to face Jensen. His hair's a riot; tangled and messy and absolutely everywhere, but Jensen barely notices; he's too busy staring at the apron and trying not to laugh. There're kittens on it.

Jared gives him a mock glare. "Don't diss the kitten apron," he says, waving his spatula, "Chad gave it to me for Christmas!"

"I hope he gave you something else to make up for it," Jensen says, smirking and sitting down at the table.

Jared nods, putting a plate in front of Jensen and shoveling bacon and sausages onto it. He opens up the oven and pulls out a plate of pancakes, adding them to the pile on Jensen's plate. A jug of maple syrup and a bottle of ketchup complete the plate and Jensen can't think of a better breakfast right now.

"Yeah, he got me a PSP, too," Jared says, loading up his own plate and sitting down opposite Jensen. He pours an obscene amount of ketchup over his sausages, and Jensen realizes that Chad was pretty damned smart buying Jared a red apron.

They eat for a while, not saying much except 'pass the ketchup'. Jensen's honestly surprised at how good the food is, having not pegged Jared as the cooking type. The sausages are greasy enough to make his hangover fade, and even the pancakes taste good. He glances up at once point and sees Jared eating with what seems to be his usual gusto, elbows waving around and ketchup flying, and he hides a grin. It's not long before Jensen's feeling pleasantly full, and he sits back with his hands over his stomach and sighs happily. He wonders whether now is a good time to ask Jared what happened last night, but doesn't have a chance before Jared pipes up.

"So. Last night."

Jensen cringes; he still can't remember much beyond drinking with Steve and falling over outside the bar. "Um. You'll need to fill me in," he says nervously. Jesus, what if he did something stupid? He did wake up almost naked; stupid things are highly probable. He clenches his ass experimentally and is relieved to find that he's not aching in any strange places.

"I didn't take advantage of you, if that's what you're worried about," Jared reassures him, and Jensen exhales, feeling oddly disappointed. "Me and Chad were out and ran into you and Steve; you were kinda fucked up and Steve asked me to get you home. I was gonna drop you at your hotel but, uh, you were pretty wasted and I didn't want you to choke on your own vomit during the night or anything, so I brought you back here."

Jensen stares at him blankly. "You undressed me," he blurts out, and feels himself turn red.

Jared nods. "You puked. It was messy."

"Oh fuck," Jensen groans. "Please tell me it wasn't in your truck."

"Fortunately, you were able to hold it in 'til you were out of the truck," Jared says. "I practically carried you inside, then stripped you down and cleaned you up and put you to bed." He's clearly enjoying this, and Jensen's never drinking again, ever.

"I am so, so sorry," Jensen mumbles, burying his face in his hands, unable to look Jared in the eye. He's never been so ashamed in his life. "I- I don't even remember why I was so drunk, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"It usually does," Jared commiserates. "Hey, don't worry - it happens to the best of us. And I've got some news that might cheer you up - Chad fired Danneel yesterday. He'd had enough of her bitchiness and diva style. You want some coffee?"

"Oh god yes," Jensen blurts. Coffee, a shower, some clean clothes, and he'll be one hundred percent human again. Then he realizes what Jared just said. "Chad fired Danneel?" He doesn't even try to keep the glee out of his voice. "That's... that's the best news I've heard in a long time," he says with a huge grin on his face. "I'd go out and celebrate, but, uh, I think I wouldn't survive it."

Jared chuckles. "Well, there's one less thing to worry about." He stretches, popping his back, and Jensen watches the muscles on his arms tighten and flex.

"Thank God," Jensen says quietly. "Blake's arriving in Dallas today, and I'd been wondering how the hell to deal with it if he asked to see Danneel." He sighs in relief. "Hey, I actually wouldn't mind taking a shower before coffee - is that okay? I can still smell the alcohol on me."

Jared nods. "There's towels in the cupboard in the hall, knock yourself out."

Jensen gets up from his chair before he realizes something else. "Uh, what did you do with my clothes?"

"Threw them in the wash," Jared says. "I'll put 'em in the dryer in a bit, in the meantime you can borrow some of mine."

"Thanks," Jensen says quietly. He can't believe Jared's being so nice to him; even Steve, who's known him since he was ten, wouldn't have bothered doing so much for his drunken, hungover ass. "Um. Can you excuse me a minute? I gotta call Blake, have to be at the hotel to meet him."

Jared nods. "Sure. Your cell and wallet and stuff are on the table in the hall," he says, and Jensen goes to call his son.

~~~

After Jensen heads off to make his phone call and take a shower, Jared exhales loudly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he mutters to himself, rushing round the kitchen cleaning everything up to try and keep his mind off of Jensen. It doesn't work, and the moment he hears the shower going, the vision of Jensen, naked and wet and glistening, rises in his mind.

"God," Jared groans, unable to stop himself; he rips off the apron, leans against the counter and yanks his pajama pants down, wrapping his hands around his erection. He'd barely managed to keep it under control during breakfast; Jensen looking tousled and sleepy-eyed sitting at his table in a bathrobe with his glasses sitting crookedly on his nose had been a sight for sore eyes. He fists himself firmly, quickly, the head of his cock slipping through his palm and slicking his hand. He thinks about untying Jensen's bathrobe, finding him naked underneath, his cock hard and wanting, his body open and spread out for Jared. It's only moments before he moans, thrusts his hips and comes all over his hand with a muffled grunt.

He cleans himself up, puts his apron back on, and finishes tidying the kitchen before going to put Jensen's clothes in the dryer. Jensen's still in the shower, and Jared rummages through his drawers to find some pants and a shirt that might fit. At the last minute, he grabs a pair of boxers too; they're fairly new and he's only worn them once or twice. He folds the clothes neatly and leaves them just outside the bathroom door before going and taking a shower in his ensuite bathroom, trying not to think about Jensen wearing his underwear.

~~~

Danneel leaves town that morning, her manager in tow. A small part of her wants to blame him for everything, along with stupid Chad Michael Murray and stupid Jared Padalecki and most of all, stupid fucking Jensen Ackles, but by far the larger part is telling her over and over that it's her own damned fault she lost this.

~~~

Jensen leaves Jared's house not long after he's had a cup of coffee; he looks uncomfortable and worried. He thanks Jared profusely for all his help, and Jared brushes it off, trying desperately not to grab Jensen and rip Jared's clothes off of him, exposing the gorgeous body that Jared now knows is under there. It doesn't help that whenever Jensen lifts his arms up to scratch his nose or adjust his glasses, Jared can see the top of his boxers poking out of his pants. Jared would be quite happy to ask Jensen to hang around for the rest of the day, but unfortunately Samantha is coming over after lunch for some heavy-duty rehearsals, and right now that's more important than mooning over Jensen. Plenty of time for that during the next week and a half.

Samantha arrives right on time, and Jared's as impressed by her today as he was yesterday. She's in her forties, a latecomer to choral music, but she brought a passion to her art which got her excellent grades on her finals. They go through some warmups quickly before getting right down to business. Jared's pleasantly surprised by her voice; she's confident and graceful, pure in the high register and not sharp or penetrating. Her voice rises and falls effortlessly, and by the end of the rehearsal, Jared's definitely pleased with her singing. This performance is going to kick ass.

~~~

Jared feels like he's walking on air. The orchestra has never played better, the choir is actually watching him during most of the choruses, and his soloists are sounding amazing. There's still a week until the concert, and whenever he sees Jensen he gets warm all over. It's been several days since Jared took Jensen back to his place, several days of Jared being happier than he can ever remember feeling. It's been so damned long since he had a crush, and he'd forgotten how much fun they can be. Not to mention crushes that have the distinct possibility of turning into something else - Jared's heart leaped into his throat when Steve blurted out that Jensen's gay, and unless he's mistaken, Jensen maybe likes him, as well.

He keeps telling himself to just wait until after the concert. Starting something now would only distract him.

It's just a pity that Jensen seems so clueless when it comes to Jared's attempts to gently seduce him. One of these days, Jared is going to have to do something drastic.

~~~

One week before the concert, Jensen has a chance to catch up with Steve again. He's very careful not to do anything involving too much alcohol, and they eventually settle on crashing at Steve's apartment, watching basketball and eating nachos.

"You left Blake at the hotel?" Steve asks curiously, popping open a beer and passing it to Jensen.

"Nah, he's got friends in town, and he didn't want to hang out with his dad. I'm not cool anymore," Jensen sighs.

Steve laughs.

"Uh, sorry about last time," Jensen says suddenly. He still feels like a huge idiot for the way he acted, and even a week later, he can't put his finger on why he drank so much.

"'s cool," Steve says, not looking away from the television. "I get why you did it."

"Really?" Jensen says, surprised. "Care to enlighten me?"

Steve turns to him and frowns. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

Jensen blinks at him and purses his lips thoughtfully. "Nope," he says with a small shake of his head.

"Christ," Steve mutters. "You are the most clueless son of a bitch I have ever met." He gets off the couch and heads into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a couple more bottles of beer. He tosses one to Jensen and sits back down, twisting his own bottle open and taking a swig.

"Dude," Jensen snaps. "If you'd care to share with the class?"

Steve sighs. "It's Jared, you idiot."

"Jared?" Jensen feels a little uncomfortable, like something's wriggling around in his belly. He's been feeling that a lot lately. "What about him?"

"Your giant gay crush on him, maybe?"

Jensen stares at Steve in bemusement. "Crush? Dude, I know what a crush feels like, and this isn't a crush."

Steve turns to Jensen with a look of disbelief on his face. "If it's not a crush, then you're in love with him or something. What, you've never been in love with someone before?"

Jensen thinks about it for a while, and eventually shakes his head. "No... can't say I have."

"Figure it out," Steve snaps. "Either get over him or get on him, you're driving me and everybody else fucking nuts."

They watch the rest of the game in silence, but Jensen doesn't even notice which team wins. He's thinking too hard about what Steve said; about Jared. His stomach churns again, feelings of excitement running up and down his body, and he flushes hot all over just thinking about the man. He almost drops his beer when he realizes that Steve's right.

~~~

"Have you figured out what to do about your Jensen problem?" Sandy asks, taking a sip of her coffee and looking up at Jared quizzically.

"What Jensen problem?" Jared replies absently, concentrating on reading the menu and trying to decide between the steak and the chicken. Sandy reaches out and pushes his menu down.

"Get the steak," she says. "Jensen. What are you going to do about him?"

Jared looks at her, a frown on his face. "I hadn't really thought it through."

"Think it through," Sandy says. "He'll be leaving Dallas when the concert is over, which is less than a week away, or had you forgotten?"

Jared sits back and rubs the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. "I dunno, okay? He's ... he's so fucking oblivious. Hell, I practically walked around half-naked in front of him. I undressed him. It took me half an hour to get my hair to look like it did that morning! I cooked him breakfast! Sandy, I cooked something that wasn't a grilled cheese sandwich! Anyone with half a brain can see that I like him. Except, of course, Jensen can't see it at all."

Sandy grins. "Oh, he knows. He's just shy, I think."

"So what do I do? Seduce him slowly? Flowers and chocolates? Push him into a broom closet and fuck him? What?" Jared's frustrated; an entire week of thinking about hardly anything except Jensen and the upcoming concert has put him on edge.

Sandy looks thoughtful. "You might just have to tell him. Say that you like him, that you'd like to take him out. If that doesn't clue him in, I don't know what will."

"You and your logic," Jared grumbles. "Better to wait 'til after the concert, though," he suggests. "Otherwise I'll never get through it."

Sandy shrugs. "Or you could go ask him out as soon as possible, and get some of the horniness out of your system before the concert."

Jared purses his lips thoughtfully. "You make a good point."

"Of course I do," Sandy smirks. "That's why I'm the smart one in this relationship."

~~~

Tom has nightmares about fucking up 'The Trumpet Shall Sound', and Mike looking at him with disappointment and pity in his eyes. He wakes up in a cold sweat and it takes him a long time to get back to sleep.

~~~

It's Wednesday night, the final rehearsal with just the orchestra and soloists. There's one more rehearsal on Friday night with the choir, and then it's the performance on Saturday. Jared still hasn't done anything about Jensen, despite his conversation with Sandy the day before; he's been trying to put it out of his mind and concentrate on the Messiah. It's easy to do that during rehearsals - he's playing the harpsichord for large amounts of the performance and his attention is completely occupied with that and conducting. It doesn't mean he's not painfully aware of Jensen's presence, and every time he glances to the side, Jensen's staring at him with a contemplative look on his face.

In the second half, Jared's distracted from Jensen by Tom, who has developed some fairly significant problems with his aria, 'The Trumpet Shall Sound.' Jared tries to advise him the best he can, but it's got to the point where Tom knows what he's doing wrong, and it's up to him to fix it. Eventually Jared calls a break for twenty minutes, and Tom vanishes immediately. To where, Jared doesn't really care. It's the only bad part of the entire evening so far, and he's not going to let that worry him. Samantha's obviously been working her ass off the past week and a half, and she and Sandy both sound amazing.

Listening to Jensen sing makes Jared want to fall to his knees and worship him.

During the break, Jared's at the water cooler getting a drink when Steve comes up to him.

"Got a second?" he asks, looking nervous.

"Sure," Jared shrugs, and they go into one of the smaller rehearsal rooms, closing the door behind them.

"Everything okay?" Jared asks. Steve looks a little worried, and Jared hopes that he's not having last-minute issues with his role as Concertmaster.

"Jensen's stupidly in love with you," Steve blurts out.

"Uh, what?"

Steve glares at him. "I said..."

"I heard you," Jared says quickly. "Um. Are you sure?" He realizes that he sounds like a teenage girl, asking the best friend of a boy she likes if he likes her back, but he doesn't care. The mixed signals Jensen's been sending have been driving him crazy.

Steve sits down. "Dude, I know Jensen. There's no doubt."

"Oh," Jared says, his heart pounding. "Um. Thanks, I guess."

"He's never been in a real relationship," Steve says. "If you wanna start something, you better know that if you hurt him, you'll seriously hurt him."

Jared smiles slightly. "Not planning on it."

"Good," Steve says, and abruptly leaves. Jared stays in the room alone for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to get his pulse to slow down. Eventually he's settled enough to head back into the main room, trying not to look at Jensen because he knows that the moment he does, he'll probably jump him right there, or something equally crass.

He's about to start the rehearsal again when he notices that Tom's missing, and when he looks around at the orchestra, Mike's not there, either. He's a little frustrated, wanting to do Tom's aria with Mike again, and is about to send Chris to find them when they both reappear, looking slightly disheveled and flushed.

Jared's a little nonplussed. He's about to ask where they've been when he notices their matching silly grins, and something clicks. He rolls his eyes and tells Tom they're doing his aria again, and Tom looks pleased.

By the end of it, Jared wonders what exactly Mike did to Tom; he's never heard him sing so well.

~~~

On Thursday afternoon, Jensen heads over to Jared's for a brief rehearsal - he's recently been having a few small problems with 'Thou shalt break them', and is determined to fix them. They sit at the piano together, Jared playing the accompaniment slowly while Jensen attempts for what feels like the hundredth time to get one particularly tricky passage right. It's the only part of the entire Messiah he's uncertain of, and with the performance in two days time, he's starting to get nervous.

"Fuck!" he curses when he messes up yet again. He stands up and strides over to the window, angry with himself. He knows this part, he fucking knows it!

"Okay, slowing it down more, try again," Jared says calmly. He's been pushing Jensen so damned hard this rehearsal, and Jensen is getting more and more frustrated as it goes on. Jared's inhuman patience is just making it worse.

He tries it again, painfully slowly, placing each note carefully and deliberately, finally getting it right. Jared rewards him with a grin.

"Good," he says. "Now let's start to speed it up." He plays the lead in again, a little faster, and Jensen once again nails it. Again, again, each time faster than the the last, until it's up to speed and he's got it perfect.

"Oh thank God," Jensen murmurs, worn out from the stress. He sits down next to Jared on the piano stool, their sides pressed together, and leans his head on Jared's shoulder.

"Nice work," Jared says quietly, turning his head and nuzzling Jensen's hair. Jensen's surprised; he raises his head and looks at Jared, so close he can see the flecks of gold and blue in his eyes.

Jensen is shaking a little, whether from exhaustion or from Jared, he doesn't know. His heart is thumping wildly; this close, he can smell the heady, warm scent of Jared, and his presence is almost overwhelming him. In a haze of stunned amazement, Jensen suddenly feels like a veil has been lifted, and he's seeing Jared clearly for the first time. Jared's eyes darken, penetrating, and Jensen can feel his quickening breath against his mouth.

"Jared," Jensen gasps, and kisses him.

Jared's mouth is surprisingly soft and sweet, pressed up against Jensen's lips, and Jensen feels like he's hitting the ground after a long fall. He's dizzy and spinning, Jared against him, Jared's thigh tight alongside his, his hand gently touching the small of Jensen's back, holding him close. The soft ends of his hair are tickling Jensen's cheek, and Jensen's glasses are digging into his nose.

They sit like that for what seems like hours, kissing chastely and warmly, simply enjoying the feel of each other's bodies pressed close. Then Jared shifts, tilts his head a little, lets out a contented hum, and the kiss turns hungry. Jensen's mouth falls open on a moan, and Jared surges forward, stroking Jensen's lips and teeth and inside of his mouth with his tongue. He claims and controls, and Jensen tangles his fingers in Jared's hair to tug him closer, deeper.

Jensen can't breathe properly; his lungs are seared with heat from Jared's mouth, his hands, his body. He pulls away, gasping for breath, and Jared moves his focus from Jensen's mouth to his jaw and neck, tilting Jensen's head back with a large hand, gently biting and sucking the sensitive skin down the line of his throat. He nibbles Jensen's earlobe, darts his tongue into his ear, his hands constantly roaming over Jensen's back, his neck, his waist. Jensen is soaring on pure sensation, the utter pleasure of being claimed and wanted so desperately.

"Oh my," a voice says, sounding impressed. Jared abruptly pulls away; it's like someone's thrown a bucket of water over them. Jensen's almost afraid to turn around, and his already-red face turns even redder when Jared says, in a tone of relief, "Sandy!"

Jensen looks around and sees Sandy standing in the doorway of Jared's music room, a huge grin on her face.

"Sorry I'm early," she says, not sounding sorry at all.

"No problem," Jared says, as if she hadn't just waked in on him making out with Jensen. "Uh, go make yourself a drink or something, Jensen and I are just finishing up here."

"Yeah, I bet," Sandy smirks, and leaves them alone.

"You can sneak out if you really want to," Jared murmurs low in Jensen's ear, his lips brushing over sensitive skin, "but I'd love for you to hang around."

Jensen shifts, uncertain, but his mind is made up when Jared kisses his neck just below his ear. "I'll stay," he gasps, trying to regain his equilibrium. "We gotta rehearse the duet, after all."

Jared pulls back and grins at him, his face flushed and open. "Good point," he says, and winks at Jensen.

~~~

Sandy comes back a few minutes later to find Jensen standing by the window and Jared seated at the piano, feeling stupidly pleased with himself. She grins at him, and he blushes. He's riding high, buoyed up from the kissing, and he can't see himself coming down anytime soon.

The duet goes surprisingly well, considering the distraction of Jensen's hand resting lightly on Jared's shoulder. He manages to get through the music without too many mistakes, but he's not the only one whose mind isn't one hundred percent focused on the music. Eventually he gives up, closing the score and sitting back.

"I don't know why we're even bothering," he says with a grin. "You guys can sing this, I've heard you do it perfectly a hundred times."

There's a general agreement from Jensen and Sandy, but Jared's a little surprised when Jensen says, "I'd better head off then, see you at the dress rehearsal tomorrow." His heart sinks when Jensen grabs his jacket and leaves the room, wondering what exactly happened in the time between them kissing and Jensen leaving so suddenly.

"Idiot," Sandy says, whacking him on the shoulder. "Go after him!"

Jensen's almost at the door when Jared catches up to him. "Wait," he says, and Jensen turns around, a look of mild panic on his face. Jared moves in close, his hands resting lightly on Jensen's hips, their mouths almost touching. "Stay," he whispers. "Stay the night."

Jensen takes a deep breath, moving into Jared's touch, and kisses him briefly. "Can't," he says quietly. "I promised Blake I'd have dinner with him."

"Then come over tomorrow," Jared coerces. "Rehearsal starts at six, come over after lunch, we can... we can talk about things."

Jensen nods quickly, a crooked smile on his face, and Jared can't help but pull him in and kiss him again, open and deep and so fucking good Jared thinks he might melt. Then Jensen's gone, the feel of his body pressed up against Jared's lingering briefly. Jared closes the door and leans against it, breathing heavily.

"Wow," Sandy says. "You guys are in it deep."

Jared looks at her. "Excuse me," he says with a cheeky grin. "I need to go jerk off for a few hours."

"Gross!" Sandy yelps, and Jared laughs, pinching her on the ass as he passes her on the way to the bathroom.

Over a dinner of takeout Chinese, Jensen ponders how to tell Blake about Jared, whom Jensen only met about two weeks ago. How does he explain to his son that he's more sure about the thing between him and and a man he's only just met than he has been about anything for a very long time? Blake's not paying attention to him; he's completely focused on the television, on which two Survivor contestants are duking it out.

"Blake?" Jensen says tentatively, setting his half-eaten dinner aside.

"Hmm?" Blake shoves another mouthful of sweet and sour pork into his mouth and doesn't look around.

"Um, I. I think I mighta met someone," Jensen mutters. He rubs his sweaty palms on his pants, wondering why he's feeling so shy telling his son about Jared.

"Oh yeah?" Blake glances at him briefly. "A guy someone?"

Jensen blinks, nonplussed. "Yeah, a guy someone. Obviously." He distinctly remembers having the 'Dad likes other men' talk with Blake; at the time he'd been surprised by his son's reaction of vague indifference, and wonders now whether Blake had really been paying attention.

"Is it serious?" Blake asks. "Like, am I gonna have to start calling him Daddy?"

"N-no!" Jensen says. "Look, if you're not okay with this, if you meet him and hate him, you gotta tell me, and I'll... um..."

"You'll what, dump him? Don't be stupid, Dad. Go get laid or whatever. I was starting to think you were asexual."

Jensen's surprised. "I've had relationships!" he says defensively. He cringes inwardly; he's defending his lack of love life to his son. This is pretty damned tragic.

"No, you haven't," Blake points out. "You haven't been on a date for as long as I can remember."

Jensen thinks for a minute. "Christ, you're right," he mumbles. "Oh god. I'm going to see him tomorrow. What the hell do I wear?"

Blake rolls his eyes. "You're letting down the team, Dad," he says, amused. Jensen laughs, giving him a good-natured clip across the ear, and settles in to finish eating dinner with his son.

~~~

Jared's not sure what time Jensen's going to arrive the next day; consequently, he gets up horribly early to prepare. He's nervous, although he keeps telling himself that he doesn't have any reason to feel that way - he and Jensen kissed yesterday, Jensen's obviously into him, and today they're going to kiss some more, maybe even have sex. Jared's dick perks up at the idea, and he has no problem with stopping in the middle of eating his breakfast to get it out and jerk off right there at the kitchen table. He cleans up quickly with some paper towels, and goes to take a shower.

Two hours later, he's frantically cleaning up his bedroom. He's one of the messiest people he knows, reasoning that since he lives alone, the only person who's going to be bothered by the mess is him, which means he doesn't ever have to clean unless he really wants to. Or, apparently, unless a really hot guy who he thinks he might be madly in love with is coming over, and Jared is kind of hoping that activities will end up in the bedroom. He doesn't want Jensen tripping over Jared's shoes on the way to the bed and ending up with a broken nose or something. That would kill the mood completely. He finds seven socks under his bed, all completely different and none of them recognizable, and it's then that he realizes that perhaps he should clean more often.

It's when he's scrubbing the wall behind the toilet that he thinks maybe, just maybe, he's overreacting right now. Jensen's not going to care about the small spots of mold on his wall. He quits the cleaning binge and goes to wash his hands - the cookies he has in the oven should be ready now, anyway. He can smell them baking, the sweet chocolaty smell filling the house, and he opens the oven door to find, to his consternation, that they have all flattened, spread out, and become one giant cookie on the baking tray.

Jared sighs, takes them out of the oven, and gets a large knife to cut the cookie up.

~~~

Just after noon, there's a knock on the door, and Jared almost leaps out of his skin. He breathes deeply, makes sure his hair isn't a tangled mess and that his fly isn't open, and goes to answer it.

Jensen's looking even hotter than normal - he's done something to his hair, making it stick up instead of flattening it down like he usually does. He's dressed casually but nicely - smart jeans, a well-fitting black t-shirt, and an olive green casual jacket over the top.

"Wow," Jared blurts out. "You look nice."

Jensen grins. "You can thank Blake for that." He sniffs the air, and his grin widens. "You baked?"

Jared nods enthusiastically. "Yeah honey, I did." Jensen laughs, and Jared ushers him inside and points him towards the kitchen. He puts the plate of flat, odd-looking cookies on the table, and Jensen stifles a laugh.

"Shut up," Jared grumbles. "Your son dressed you for a date, you can't insult my cookies."

Jensen bursts out laughing, and something quietly explodes inside Jared. God, he's insanely in love - how the hell did that happen in less than two weeks?

They make small talk over the cookies, but there's tension in the air, heightened every time Jensen licks chocolate off of his fingers. Jared wants, he wants so badly, but he's worried about scaring Jensen off. Eventually he falls silent and just stares at Jensen, whose cheeks flush under the scrutiny. He looks both nervous and excited, and Jared's about to reassure him when Jensen reaches out and swipes a finger through some of the melted chocolate left on the plate.

Jensen holds his finger out towards Jared, who gets dizzy from the speed at which all the blood in his body rushes south. He takes hold of Jensen's hand, his thumb stroking over the sensitive skin of his palm, and tugs it closer until he can suck Jensen's chocolate-covered finger into his mouth.

"Oh fuck," Jensen says softly but distinctly, when Jared's tongue curls around his finger, lapping up every trace of chocolate, and his eyes darken.

"Jensen?" Jared says quietly between licks.

"Mmm?" Jensen's languid, his eyes closed and his body leaning forward into Jared's touch.

"Can I ask a favor?"

Jensen opens his eyes and pulls his hand away, stroking over Jared's cheek with his finger before nodding.

Jared stands up and takes Jensen's hand, leading him into the music room. He sits at the piano, Jensen snug against him on the stool, and opens the music on the stand.

"Do you know 'Nessun Dorma'?" he asks, glancing across at Jensen.

"Yeah, I do," Jensen replies, smiling. "You're such a cliché, Jared."

Jared blushes, and Jensen laughs, standing up and indicating for Jared to start playing. Jared knows it's sappy and silly of him, but he's been dying to hear Jensen sing this, one of the most well-known tenor arias ever written.

He's not disappointed. Jensen's range is impressive, and he nails the top notes stunningly well, with such strength it sends shivers down Jared's spine. The buildup to the final burst is incredible, and on that final Vincerò!, Jensen's voice echoes around the music room, the high ceilings providing surprisingly good acoustics for such a small space. Jensen comes to stand behind him and puts his hands on Jared's shoulders, pressing his body against Jared's back.

"Live up to your expectations?" he whispers, bending down to kiss Jared's ear.

"You can hold a B," Jared mumbles.

"Yeah," Jensen says quietly. "Only once a year, though."

"I am unbelievably horny right now," Jared confesses. He turns around, shifting his legs so he's sitting on the seat facing Jensen, and pulls him down so he's straddling his thighs.

"Good," Jensen breathes, shifting on Jared's lap, "cause I'd been starting to think you invited me over with pure intentions, semi-pornographic cookie eating aside."

"Oh fuck no," Jared says. He shifts, putting his hands on Jensen's thighs and pulling him closer until he can feel the hard line of Jensen's cock pressed against his stomach. He's tingling all over, his entire body sensitive, and Jensen's weight on his legs makes him shiver and pant.

Jensen leans down to kiss him, and it's like something snaps in Jared. He fumbles behind him and knocks the lid of the piano; it falls down with a crash, startling them both, and Jared quickly stands up, easily lifting Jensen's legs to wrap around his hips. He turns, almost stumbling, and presses Jensen backwards onto the lid of the grand piano, not letting go of his mouth and getting dizzy from the noises Jensen's making as well as the feel of his body.

Jared fumbles desperately with Jensen's clothing, tugging and pulling his shirt off until he's got him laid almost bare beneath him. He takes a step back to admire the view; Jensen's freckled skin is flushed and warm, and he's panting with need. His chest is smooth and lightly muscled, and Jared leans in to take a nipple in his mouth while he toys with Jensen's belt buckle. Jensen grabs his head, holding him in place and groaning softly as Jared kisses and sucks on it.

Jensen is writhing underneath him; Jared moans loudly and kisses him harder, tugging his belt open and unzipping his pants. He palms Jensen's dick, hard and straining at his boxers, and Jensen purrs and thrusts up into the touch.

"Been a while," Jensen pants, and Jared grins, wrapping an arm around Jensen's waist to support his back while he slips his hand inside his boxers. Jensen groans and his head falls back, hitting the lid of the piano with a soft clunk as Jared slowly jerks him off, his hand slipping up and down the shaft and occasionally sliding over the head.

"Oh god, oh god," Jensen murmurs, repeating it under his breath as he arches his back and holds onto Jared's arms for dear life. Jared nuzzles his neck, kissing and licking the warm skin, basking in the sensation of Jensen falling apart under him. His own cock is near bursting out of his pants, a damp spot forming on the front, and he ruts against Jensen's hip, unable to stop himself.

"Wanna fuck you," Jared rumbles, and Jensen nods feverishly, frantically.

"You got stuff?" he asks in a low, shaky voice, reaching down to undo Jared's pants. Jared nearly groans in relief when Jensen's hands touch his dick, and manages to nod.

"Back in two seconds, don't move," he says, and hitches his pants up before rushing out of the room. He's in his bedroom in a record amount of time, flinging open the bedside drawers and hunting feverishly for the lube and condoms he keeps in there. He's back in the music room almost immediately, and groans softly when he sees Jensen leaning over the piano, his pants in a heap on the floor next to him and his legs spread. Jensen looks at him and smirks, and Jared wonders how he ever thought Jensen was shy.

~~~

Jensen's heart is pounding from lust and nerves; he's not sure which is stronger. Jared's eyes darken when he sees how Jensen's displayed, and two long strides bring him up right behind him. Jared's presence there is strong, almost frightening, but he's surprisingly gentle when he starts working his fingers into Jensen, stretching him slowly and carefully while he kisses the back of his neck and strokes his cock.

God, it's been ages; Jensen can barely even remember the last time he was with someone. Jared floods his senses, surrounding him, covering him, and Jensen shivers underneath him, his hands sliding on the smooth wood of the piano lid. He feels overwhelmed, like he's floating, his entire body tingling and needy. Jared's fingers twist inside him, finding and pressing down on his prostate, and Jensen groans and jerks, his cock spilling clear precome over Jared's fingers and dripping down onto the piano.

"God, please," Jensen moans, flushing red all over to hear himself beg like that. Jared shifts, holding him tight, and slips his fingers out, replacing them with his cock, and holy God Jared isn't kidding around with that thing. Jensen feels like he's being split in two, the burning press inside him an unstoppable force. He bites back a groan, feeling his cock soften a little in Jared's hand, and it seems like forever before Jared's hips are pressed firmly up against him, balls-deep inside Jensen's body.

"Okay?" Jared murmurs, his hips twitching with the desire to move. He holds Jensen carefully around the waist, letting go of his cock to take hold of his hand and grip it firmly. Jensen squeezes it tight, the pain starting to ebb away and become bearable. Eventually he feels like he's not going to break if he moves, and tries an experimental shift of his hips. Jared groans, nuzzling the back of his neck, and starts moving himself, just a little, his cock sliding out a little and back in again.

"H-harder," Jensen mumbles, pressing back hard against Jared, his body loose and relaxed now that he's used to it. God, he loves this, bent over and wide open with a cock up his ass, and he wonders why he hasn't done it more often in the past fifteen years or so. He can hear Jared whimpering behind him, quiet words of need and lust, the low thrum of his voice searing through Jensen. He's hot all over, his cock hard against the piano, and his glasses are slipping down his nose from the sweat beading all over his face.

"Wait," Jared says quietly, pausing his thrusts. Jensen moans softly, trying to buck his hips to get more of that delicious friction inside of him, but Jared pulls away, the head of his cock slipping out of Jensen.

"What-"

"Turn around," Jared growls, low in his ear. Jensen stiffens, his cock twitching and his body trembling, and turns around. Jared's panting, his hair sweaty and his face flushed, and Jensen's eye is drawn down his body to his cock, hard and wet and still straining. Jared grins at him, sitting on the piano stool just behind him and pulling Jensen close by his hips. He doesn't have time to ask or object before Jared licks the head of his cock, tongue swirling over the slit and lapping up the wetness slicking the head. Jensen groans and Jared swallows, Jensen's dick bumping against the back of his throat.

"Oh, fuck," Jensen breathes, stroking Jared's hair and face, feeling the shape of his cock in Jared's mouth, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips. Jared moans around him, the vibrations sending shivers up and down Jensen's body, and it's just getting really awesome when Jared pulls off. Jensen whimpers, his hands kneading at Jared's head and shoulders, and Jared grins.

"Want you to ride me," he says, and Jensen doesn't need any more hints. He quickly straddles Jared, taking hold of his dick and slowly lowering himself onto it until he's completely seated. It's better this way; he can see Jared, can see how his movements make Jared's eyes widen and his face crease up. He rides his dick slowly, smoothly, tightening his body and arching his back, and Jared takes hold of his cock, pulling it slowly and tightly, his huge palm slipping over the head. Jensen whimpers and fucks Jared harder, faster, bucking his hips into Jared's hand and then back onto his cock. Jared presses his hips up as hard as he can, his eyes rolling back in his head and a strangled groan spilling from his mouth, his cock twitching and jerking inside Jensen as he comes. Jensen grins and strokes Jared's face with a finger, trailing it down the hot, sweaty skin.

"C'mon," Jared encourages, his face clouded with lust. He wraps a hand around the back of Jensen's neck, pulling him in for a kiss, and Jensen grunts, fucks up into Jared's fist, and comes, his cock spurting over Jared's hand. Jared kisses him firmly, deeply, and Jensen slowly comes down, his body relaxing and collapsing against Jared's.

They kiss for a while, then move to the bathroom, where they kiss some more in Jared's huge shower, the water pounding down on them. Jensen grins and presses himself up against Jared; it's going to be a good afternoon.

~~~

The dress rehearsal on stage in the Meyerson Symphony Center is interminably long for Jensen; his ass is aching pleasantly, and every time he catches Jared's eye, he can feel himself grinning. He's sure that anyone watching him and Jared must be able to see what's going on, but he can't bring himself to care. During the times he's not singing, all he can think about is Jared's long fingers, all over him, inside him; Jared's mouth on his, on his neck, his chest, his cock. Jared's cock pressed up against him, nudging at him, sliding slowly into him.

Fuck, they haven't even finished the first half, and Jensen's already so horny he thinks he could burst.

The rehearsal doesn't finish until almost eleven o'clock, and Jensen can tell Jared is exhausted. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his hair is hanging in his eyes, and his entire body is drooping. That doesn't stop him from sneaking into Jensen's dressing room after Tom leaves, though. He corners Jensen, pressing him against the wall with his entire body and kissing him slowly, deeply. Jensen groans and spreads his legs, and Jared shamelessly ruts against him, the feel of Jensen's cock hardening alongside his own driving him crazy.

"God, I want you so bad," he pants into Jensen's ear, sliding their bodies together, his cock a hard line against Jensen's hip.

"Likewise," Jensen murmurs, squeezing Jared's ass in both hands and enjoying the whimper Jared makes. "But I'm exhausted and you're gonna fall over soon." He pushes Jared back a little. "Go home, sleep for twelve hours, and I'll see you at the concert tomorrow night."

Jared leans his head tiredly on Jensen's shoulder, nuzzling into him like a cat. "Will you come home with me afterwards?" he asks.

"Definitely," Jensen replies.

~~~

When he gets back to the hotel, Blake's still up, playing Playstation.

"How'd it go?" he asks, putting the controller down.

"The rehearsal? Good," Jensen says, shrugging his jacket off and flopping onto the couch.

"Not the rehearsal," Blake says meaningfully.

Jensen feels himself redden and, unbidden, a smile forms on his face. Blake's eyes widen.

"You got laid!" he says, his voice full of glee.

"Oh, shut up," Jensen mumbles.

~~~

The day of the concert, Jared's nervous and twitchy. He's conducted concerts before, but never one on this scale, and he finds himself constantly flicking through his score to check on passages that he's still not one hundred percent sure of. He's barely even able to think about Jensen, and the minutes fly by at a terrifying rate; suddenly, it's time for Jared to put on his evening suit and comb his hair.

When he arrives at the Symphony Center, Jared's found the calm place he goes to before performances. He's less nervous about this than he was before his LTCL in piano so many years ago, and figures that it's probably the calming influence of Jensen in the forefront of his mind. He shuts himself in his small office, making last-minute adjustments to his clothing and hair and then just sits down for a few minutes, breathing deeply and slowly.

There's a knock on the door, and Jared opens it to find Jensen on the other side. He's impeccably dressed in his suit and bow tie, and there isn't a single hair out of place on his head. He smiles, but Jared notices he's shaking a little.

"Nervous?" he asks, waving his hand at the other chair. Jensen sits down and sighs, fiddling with his bow tie and collar.

"Before a concert? Always." He pours himself a glass of water from the jug on Jared's desk and drains it in one go.

"God, me too," Jared says, standing up. He's fidgety and can't keep still, just starting to pace when Jensen moves behind him and pushes him back into his seat. He starts kneading the tense muscles in Jared's shoulders, and Jared sighs in relief, leaning his head back against Jensen's stomach. It's bliss; the ache that has been lingering in Jared's neck and shoulders for the past few days starts to melt away, and he feels like he could fall asleep right here.

"Hey, none of that," Jensen says, stroking the side of his face. Jared's sprawled in his seat, legs stretched out in front of him and his arms hanging loosely, and Jensen has to give his arm a yank to get him upright again.

"Time?" Jared mumbles, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

"Twenty minutes," Jensen replies, dusting off Jared's shoulders and straightening his hair.

"Better go warm up the choir," Jared says.

"See you soon," Jensen murmurs, and kisses Jared lightly on the lips.

~~~

The chorus is excited, chatty, and Jared sneaks into the back of the choir room just in time to see Joyce bark an order for quiet. She's one of the older members, someone who's been in the choir for almost thirty years, and Jared's impressed by how she's able to get instant quiet from the disorganized mob. She spends a few minutes going over the seating plan and making sure everyone knows exactly how to get on stage, and follows it up with a dire warning about talking while the orchestra is tuning up.

When she's finished, Jared comes forward to start the warmups, thinking she must be a teacher.

After the choir's warmed up, Jared checks on the orchestra and then the soloists. Sandy's nervous and pacing, but Samantha is doing a pretty good job of concealing her own fear under a thin veneer of confidence. He does his best to reassure them and pretend that he's not nauseated with fear before going to see Jensen and Tom, who are surprisingly relaxed and convivial.

"You guys want a minute alone?" Tom asks, winking lewdly at Jared and grinning.

Jared raises an eyebrow at Jensen, who shrugs. "I didn't tell him," he says.

"It's obvious," Tom says, looking amused. "And I'm gonna give you a minute anyway, cause I wanna go wish Mike luck." He gives a cocky little wave before leaving the room, and Jared stares at the door thoughtfully.

"He's changed," he observes.

"Apparently all that trumpet playing has given Mike very well-developed jaw muscles," Jensen says.

Unbidden, a crystal clear image pops into Jared's mind. "I hate you," he mumbles, and Jensen laughs.

They're interrupted by Chad knocking on the door to ask if they're ready. Jared nods and takes a deep breath.

~~~

It's hot on stage; the lights are beaming down on him and Jared is starting to sweat before the orchestra's even finished the introduction. It's difficult conducting with one hand and playing the harpsichord with the other, but he's confident enough with the music to play it in his sleep.

There's also the added bonus that he gets to sit down occasionally, which cannot be overrated.

He's unaccountably nervous when Jensen stands up for his first solo, and forces himself to put all thoughts of anything but the music out of his mind. The orchestra plays the slow, steady introduction, and Jared doesn't breathe until Jensen's sung the first note perfectly.

Jensen's one of the easiest people Jared's ever had to accompany - he never pushes too hard, and it's almost a team effort between them, with the orchestra providing the background. He sings with all his heart, his voice filling the packed hall, echoing and reverberating. Jared's almost sad when it's over, but then they're into 'Ev'ry Valley' and once again it goes off without a hitch.

Jared can tell the audience wants to applaud when Jensen's finished; there's a few shuffles and hushed claps from some people, but he ignores it, keeping his baton raised and looking up to the chorus for 'And the glory of the lord.'

Playing the harpsichord while conducting the chorus is not an option, and Jared has sometimes wondered whether he really needs to go to the gym considering the workout he always gets during choir rehearsals. Every part of him is concentrating on making sure everyone comes in in the right places, that the basses actually watch him, that the altos don't screw up their entry, and myriad other concerns. He's just glad the orchestra knows the music almost by heart and is extremely skilled at playing well with the least amount of guidance.

All told, the first half is amazing. Jared's panting, sweaty, his clothes rumpled and his arms tired, and when he turns to the audience and bows, the roar of applause almost knocks him down. He follows the soloists offstage, relieved to be in the cool darkness of the backstage area, and heads straight for his office to have a drink and change his shirt.

Jensen comes in just as he's slipping his clean shirt on, and laughs.

"Good timing," he says, and Jared grins at him.

"I sweat," he points out, and Jensen nods.

"I'd noticed," he says quietly, coming up behind Jared and wrapping his arms around Jared's waist. Jared's trapped in his shirt, unable to stop Jensen sliding his palms over Jared's chest and stomach, tracing the shape of the muscles and flesh. His breath is hot on the back of Jared's neck, and Jared's pulse races.

"Mmm," he sighs quietly, letting Jensen do what he wants. There's twenty minutes until he has to be back out there, more than enough time to-

"Mmm, stop," Jared says, pushing away and turning to face Jensen, trying to get his shirt buttoned. Jensen looks wounded.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

"God no," Jared says, fiddling with his cuff links and bow tie. "There's nothing I'd like more than to get on my knees and suck you, but then you'd be useless for the second half.

Jensen thinks for a moment, pursing his lips. "Yeah, you're right," he says sadly. He helps Jared with his bow tie, straightening it and tugging his collar to remove the creases, before pushing him against the wall. Jared hits it with an "Oof!" and Jensen presses firmly up against him.

"Doesn't mean we can't make out for a while," Jensen whispers huskily, biting Jared's ear. "Just don't touch the hair."

"Ten minutes," Jared gasps, and lowers his mouth to Jensen's.

~~~

The start of the second half is quite busy for Jensen; he has several recitatives and a couple of arias, not to mention his duet with Sandy at the end. The success of the first half relaxed him, and he's feeling very confident.

He watches Jared closely; this is one of the most tiring parts of the entire work for the conductor - three choruses one after the other, none of them very easy. He's sweating already, beads of it rolling down his face and soaking into his collar. Jensen wonders idly whether Jared has ever considered cutting his hair to make it easier to see through the sweat-soaked mass, then remembers clutching that hair while they fucked and abruptly changes his mind. Jared really needs to keep it long.

Jensen shifts in his seat and forces himself to forget about Jared and think very hard about the fact that he has to sing again in less than a minute.

~~~

It's all going nicely until Jensen stands up to sing the lead-in to 'Thou shalt break them' near the end and remembers that this was the aria he had been rehearsing just before he kissed Jared. It distracts him, knocks him, and he almost misses his entry to the aria before he mentally shakes himself and tries to concentrate on the music. He sees Jared watching him closely, conducting almost woodenly, and he realizes that he's slightly out of sync with the orchestra, forcing Jared to give them the most precise guidance he can without any of his usual fluid grace. He takes a deep breath during one of his breaks in the music and gets himself back in the game. This is his last solo aria, and to fuck it up would be disastrous.

He's relieved to finish and take a deep breath before the entire audience stands for the Hallelujah Chorus. He can't remember the last time he let something like that affect his singing; he's a professional, not some kid at his first school play, and he's a little shaken. He settles back to enjoy the rest of the concert, not at all worried about his duet with Sandy. He was surprised at how well their voices melded when they first sang together, and he's enjoyed rehearsing with her.

Tom's aria with Mike is stunning, one of the best performances of 'The trumpet shall sound' Jensen's ever heard. He smiles a little to himself when he sees the meaningful look pass between the two of them, and Tom looks more pleased with himself than Jensen can ever remember. After that, it's his turn to stand with Sandy for the duet.

The duet with the alto and tenor is one of the most beautiful arias in the Messiah, and it's a shame it's so short. The only accompaniment is a single cello and the harpsichord, and the fugal lines interweave with expert precision. Jensen thoroughly enjoys every moment of it, and he's almost sad when they finish and the chorus comes in. He remains standing until the end and gives Sandy a brief bow and a smile before sitting.

It's all downhill to the end; Samantha sings her final aria amazingly well, and then it's time for the final chorus. The chorus sings as well as Jensen's ever heard them sing, and the basses don't screw up once, not even when singing 'Blessings', which Jared has spent a large amount of energy trying to prevent from sounding too sibilant. Jared's at the top of his game, and every single eye is on him, following every shift and arm-wave he makes. By the time the final 'Amen' is sung, Jared's soaked in sweat, red-faced and worn out, his entire body looking like it might fold up at any moment. He looks happy, so incredibly happy Jensen wants to go to him and kiss him right there.

The applause starts the moment Jared lowers his baton, and Jensen looks out to the audience, a huge smile on his face as they cheer and stomp their feet. He turns to Jared and finds him staring, eyes shining with excitement and a look of absolute glee on his face.

~~~

Jared comes to Jensen's dressing room, his bow tie undone and his shirt untucked. He looks ecstatic as he shakes Tom's hand and congratulates him. Then, without even bothering to wait for Tom to leave, he grabs Jensen and pulls him flush against his body. Jensen makes an undignified noise when Jared's arms tighten around his back and suddenly he's being lifted up and spun around by an excited Jared. The breath is knocked out of him, and he grunts softly, clinging to Jared's shoulders and grinning uncontrollably.

"Jesus Christ," he huffs when Jared puts him down. He's feeling dizzy and stupid, and he grabs Jared's face and tugs him down. Jared responds with enthusiasm, groaning a little and pressing Jensen's mouth open for a deep, toe-curling kiss. Jensen loses himself in it, closing his eyes and holding Jared tight, the fabric of his shirt sweat-damp against his fingers, Jared's lips soft and warm against his own. He's breathless, shaking, and would be quite happy to let Jared's wandering hands wander into his pants, but the thought is interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

It's only then that Jensen remembers that Tom is still in the room. He grimaces, pulling away from Jared, and turns to confront Tom's wide grin.

"Don't forget drinks in the foyer," he says, vast amusement coloring his voice. He gives Jared a cocky salute and leaves, closing the door firmly behind him. Jared buries his nose in Jensen's neck, his body shaking with laughter.

"I completely forgot he was here," he confesses.

"You're not the only one," Jensen replies.

~~~

The after-concert reception in the foyer is interminably long. Jared can't help glancing over at Jensen every few seconds, and he barely listens to what people are saying to him. Everyone wants to congratulate him, up to and including the mayor, and Jared has to force himself to snap out of it so he doesn't accidentally snub anyone important. Eventually he has a few moments to talk to Sandy, who's giddy and laughing.

"Was it good?" she demands the moment she has Jared to herself.

"Not bad," Jared says, taking a sip of his drink and winking at her.

"Asshole," she says, punching him on the shoulder. "It was awesome."

Jared grimaces in mock-hurt, and is about to hit her back when he sees Jensen talking to a young man who has to be his son. His surprise must be showing on his face, because Sandy turns to see what he's looking at.

"Is that Blake?" she asks.

"I think it might be," Jared replies.

"You gonna go say hello?"

Jared drinks half a glass of champagne in one go, and shakes his head. "Too early to meet the family, I think," he says. Jensen seems to think the same thing; he isn't making any move to bring his son over to introduce him to Jared. He hands Blake something, pats him on the back, and walks outside with him briefly before coming back in alone. He sees Jared almost immediately, and comes over to join him and Sandy.

"That Blake?" Jared asks nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Jensen says. "He got a cab back to the hotel. Um, hope you don't mind I didn't introduce you."

"A bit early, maybe," Jared says, finishing off his champagne and looking around for another.

"You'll meet him," Jensen reassures him, and laughs when Jared looks scared.

"Shit, I think I drank too much," Jared groans, stumbling slightly beside Jensen when they leave the Symphony Center after what seems like hours of polite conversation. When they get to Jared's truck, Jensen pushes him face-first against it and slides his hands into Jared's pockets. Jared gasps, pressing his heated face against the cold metal, and rubs his ass back against Jensen, arousal searing through him when he feels Jensen harden in response. Jensen's hands stroke his thighs through his pockets, and they're just starting to get somewhere interesting when Jensen says, "Ah ha!" and withdraws, Jared's keys held triumphantly in one hand.

"Dude," Jared complains.

"You said it yourself - you had too much to drink," Jensen says. "You ain't driving." Jared glares at him before climbing into the passenger seat.

"That was sneaky and underhanded," he informs Jensen, who just tosses a grin at him and closes the door on Jared.

It's a twenty minute drive to Jared's place, and he spends every single one of those minutes touching Jensen. He spends a while just stroking the silky hairs on the back of his neck, rubbing the soft skin and making Jensen purr. Then he moves his hand to Jensen's thigh, grinning to himself when Jensen tosses a look of frustration at him and shifts in his seat. By the time he puts his hand over Jensen's dick, it's almost completely hard, and Jensen lets out a bitten-off groan when Jared cups it and rubs his thumb along the length.

"Gonna get us killed," he says breathlessly.

"Nah," Jared replies, leaning in close and kissing Jensen's ear. "I reckon you're a good driver." He rubs harder, feeling the cock under his hand twitch, and squeezes the head.

"Oh god," Jensen whimpers, spreading his legs and letting Jared do what he wants. There's a bead of sweat rolling down his face, the first one all night, and Jared licks it up with a soft moan. God, he's been hard himself for what seems like the entire evening, and feeling Jensen start to fall apart under his hands is enough to make him want to tell Jensen to just pull over and they can go at it in the car.

He's never been so relieved to see his driveway. Jensen's twitching and grunting, his hips jerking and pressing against Jared's hand, a warm dampness spreading. He's desperate to come, and Jared intends to make that happen as many times as he can tonight.

It's a long walk from the car to the door, made longer by the way Jensen wraps himself around Jared and doesn't let go. They stop every few paces to kiss, hands sliding under clothes, tweaking nipples and stroking warm skin. Jared's achingly hard, his dick straining at his pants, and when Jensen unzips him and slips his hand inside to wrap around him, Jared almost comes on the spot. He humps desperately against Jensen's hand, the slick head of his cock sliding over his wrist as Jensen loosely fists him, keeping him right on the edge.

Eventually they make it to the door, and Jared barely manages to tear himself away from Jensen long enough to fumble his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door. The moment the door's shut behind them, Jensen's on him, tugging at his pants until they're wrapped around his thighs.

"I want..." Jensen mumbles in his ear, his hand still stroking Jared's dick.

"What?" Jared asks, uncertain of his ability to deny Jensen anything.

"Wanna suck you," Jensen says even more quietly, his face burning red against Jared's cheek.

"Oh fuck yes," Jared gasps out. He's been wanting to tangle his fingers in Jensen's hair and pull it this way and that, and when Jensen drops to his knees, he finally gets his chance. He can feel the cool metal of Jensen's glasses against the soft skin of his stomach when Jensen pushes his shirt out the way and kisses him. Jensen mouths the head of Jared's cock through his briefs, tonguing at the salty wetness before tugging them down with nimble fingers. Jared can hear himself breathing loudly, his breaths interspersed with moans and pants and all he can do is clutch Jensen's head and whimper when Jensen gets his cock free.

The first touch of Jensen's tongue to the tip of his cock has Jared twitching and biting his lip to stifle his cries. Jensen licks around the head, lapping up droplets of salty sweat and precome, holding Jared's hips still with both hands.

"Fuck, your mouth," Jared mumbles, finally giving in and looking down at Jensen. It's every bit as incredible as he'd imagined; Jensen's face is flushed and damp with sweat, his eyes wide and dark and staring up at Jared while he slowly, so slowly, slides his mouth over Jared's cock until he's almost all the way in. Jensen hums happily, the vibrations going straight to Jared's balls, and it's only because Jensen wraps his hand quickly around the base of Jared's cock that he doesn't come immediately.

"Tastes good," Jensen growls, his voice harsh and rough from Jared's cock bruising his throat. He stands up, ignoring Jared's broken whimper of disappointment at the loss of his mouth.

"I want to fuck," Jensen says low in Jared's ear, idly stroking his cock, "and I don't want to fuck in the hallway."

"Nngh," Jared manages. He feels drunk on Jensen, his scent, his presence, his body, and it takes a moment for what Jensen said to penetrate. "God. Yes. Bedroom..." Jared points, and Jensen grabs his arm and almost drags him there. They trip over shoes, books, clothes, old music scores, and Jared's wondering if they'll ever make it to the bed when he bumps into it in the dark. He collapses back onto it, pulling Jensen on top of him, and groans when their bodies press and rub together.

"Want... where's the..." Jensen says, shifting around and reaching out for something, and Jared's about to ask him what the hell he's doing when his bedside light clicks on and now he can see Jensen, can see his flushed, wide-eyed face, his wet swollen lips, the damp streaks of precome from Jared's dick on his face and glasses.

"Oh g-God," Jared stutters, dragging his thumbs over Jensen's cheeks, wiping the wetness away and pulling him down for a kiss. He tastes salty, bittersweet, and Jared groans and spreads his legs as much as he can, letting Jensen nestle between them and press up against his cock. His clothes are in the way; too hot, too constricting, and he yanks Jensen's shirt and pants, wanting to feel him naked and warm against him. Jensen reciprocates, sitting up so he's straddling Jared and almost tearing his shirt open. There's a frantic fumble to get pants and underwear off, and Jared groans when they're finally without a stitch of clothing between them.

It's incredible; Jared's eyes roll back in his head and he clutches at Jensen's body, wanting to touch all of him at once, amazed at having him completely naked in his bed, begging to be fucked. He feels lightheaded and overheated, and when Jensen shifts his hips so their cocks are pressed together, he can't wait much longer. He hooks his leg over Jensen and rolls them over, covering Jensen with his body and pushing his legs apart. Jensen spreads them without even hesitating, and Jared's cock nudges against his balls and lower down.

"You got..." Jensen mumbles, humping desperately up against Jared, his cock wet and leaking on his stomach.

"Yeah," Jared replies, digging around under the pillow until he finds the condoms and lube he put there this morning in the hopes that he would need them tonight. He gently presses Jensen's legs further apart, pushing his knee up towards his chest, and crouches between them, looking closely at Jensen's cock and ass. Jensen flushes red and tries to close his legs, but Jared shakes his head.

"Wanna see," he says quietly, and Jensen squirms, his cock twitching on his belly. Jared traces a finger down the hard line of his cock, grinning to himself when Jensen moans and writhes. He cups his balls, stroking them gently, and moves his hand further down, caressing the curve of his ass. Jensen bites out a "Jesus Christ, Jared" and reaches down to grab his cock, giving it a hard tug.

"I want, I have to... I..." Jared whimpers at the sight, and swiftly slicks up his fingers. Jensen nods feverishly and his back arches when Jared slides the first finger into him, swiftly followed by another. He leans over Jensen's body, covering him and kissing him searingly while he works his fingers inside him, loving the way Jensen responds to him, begging for more. Moments later, Jensen's tearing the condom open, rolling it onto Jared's cock, and Jared slides in like he belongs.

They move together like a polyphonic melody, a fugue; interweaving parts melding together to make music. Jared can feel Jensen's heels pressed into his ass, his legs spread wide as he tries to pull Jared in deeper, harder, his glasses slipping up his nose from the sweat rolling down his forehead. His arms are tight around Jared's back, nails scoring faint lines on his skin as Jared thrusts and fucks, Jensen's tight body and stifled groans sending him spiraling.

"Fuck, you feel, ah fuck, there," Jensen groans, and Jared presses in harder, further, panting into Jensen's mouth. Jensen's cock is a hard, hot pressure against Jared's stomach, and he can feel it slick with precome. He sits back on his heels, and pulls Jensen up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Jensen's body and pressing his dick into him. Jensen groans, his head tilted back, and Jensen licks sweat off of the long line of his throat. He rocks his hips gently at first, then faster, thrusting up into Jensen's body, relishing the tight grip on his cock, the slick slip-slide of their sweat-drenched skin.

Jensen plants his knees on the bed and his hands on Jared's shoulders, forcing Jared to stay still as he takes control, sliding up and then down again, fucking himself on Jared's cock, and Jared's never seen anything so hot as a flushed, aroused Jensen Ackles riding his dick with unfettered groans and pants. He grips Jensen's hair, tugging him down for a kiss, and Jensen shudders, open-mouthed and panting, rutting his hard cock against Jared's stomach.

"So hot, so fucking hot," Jared says, the words broken up with choked moans. He's so close, the clench of Jensen's ass around his cock and the feel of him driving him crazy, and he reaches between them to slide his hand over Jensen's dick, letting him fuck his fist. Jensen tightens, arches, his mouth open and soundless words coming out as he comes, covering Jared's hand and their stomachs. Jared follows moments later, fucking up into him once, twice, riding out the last of Jensen's orgasm and letting go himself, his entire body tensing and jerking as he buries his face in Jensen's neck and moans.

They don't move for several minutes, both of them unwilling to separate from the other. Eventually Jensen shifts a little uncomfortably and lifts himself off Jared, incapable of doing more than collapse backwards onto the bed. Jared quickly disposes of the condom and joins him, meaning to go grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom but unable to stop himself curling up around Jensen's body and tugging the covers over them both. Jensen's asleep almost immediately, and Jared carefully takes his glasses off him and turns off the light before wrapping his arm around Jensen and closing his eyes.

~~~

Jensen wakes in the morning to once again find himself in a strange bed. This time, however, he knows exactly how he got there, and he rolls over to find himself nose-to-nose with Jared. He's still asleep, snoring quietly with a small smile on his relaxed face, and Jensen grins. He carefully pushes the covers back and slides out of bed, wincing at the ache in his ass, warmth filling his chest when he remembers how he got it. There's a pair of Jared's pajama pants on the floor, and Jensen pulls them on to go to the bathroom. While he's in there, he looks closely at himself in the mirror, squinting to see through the blur and noting several reddish marks on his shoulders and chest. He touches them, pressing gently and feeling a slight ache, and his dick twitches.

He's tempted to just get it out and beat off in Jared's bathroom, but the prospect of saving it for when Jared wakes up is too much to resist, and he heads back into the bedroom.

Jared's sprawled on his back with his mouth wide open and the blankets puddled down around his waist. Jensen goes to get his glasses and checks the time; it's only nine, and he figures Jared's still pretty tired after last night. He goes quietly into the kitchen to see what he can find to make for breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, he's glaring at the burnt mess in the frying pan, which used to be bacon and eggs. He's just wondering how he's going scrape it off when Jared pads in, completely and shamelessly naked.

"Thought I smelled burning," he mutters sleepily, coming up behind Jensen and wrapping his arms around him, all sleepy warmth and tanned skin.

"I can't cook for shit," Jensen says mournfully, putting the pan in the sink and filling it with water to soak.

"Don't worry," Jared says, still wrapped around him, "I got frozen waffles and maple syrup. All you need is a toaster."

"Sounds good," Jensen replies, turning in Jared's arms and planting both hands on his ass. Jared squeaks a little when he squeezes, then leans in to kiss him. They stand there for a while, Jensen resting against the kitchen counter, Jared pressed close against him, kissing slowly and warmly. Jensen can feel Jared's dick against his own, separated by nothing but a thin layer of cotton, and they start shifting their hips a little, rubbing each other while they kiss.

"God, you look hot in my pants," Jared gasps into Jensen's mouth, not breaking the kiss. He pulls at the waistband, tugging them down a little so he can get Jensen's cock out. Jensen pants and whimpers, bracing himself against the counter when Jared wraps his hand around both their cocks, jerking them off with hard, fast strokes.

It feels like mere seconds before Jensen's toes curl and he comes all over Jared's stomach, gasping and clutching at Jared like he's a lifeline. Jared groans and follows suit, rubbing their come into Jensen's stomach and hip as he kisses him hard.

"Jesus Christ," Jensen pants.

"Mmm," Jared replies. He's fluid and languid against Jensen's body, nuzzling his neck and kissing his ear.

"Waffles?" Jensen says stupidly, his heart still racing. He's all sticky, but can't seem to care, and he tugs the pants back up when Jared peels himself away.

"Yeah," Jared replies, going to get the apron. Jensen looks askance at him, and Jared raises his eyebrows.

"Maple syrup is a bitch when you get it in your hair."

It's clear he's not talking about the hair on his head, and Jensen wonders what other strange habits Jared has developed from living alone.

Eventually, they manage to make and eat breakfast, and afterwards, they take a shower together to wash the maple syrup off. Jared's right, it is a bitch when you get it in your hair.

~~~

"I'm heading to England in less than a week," Jensen says quietly. He's lying on the couch, his head in Jared's lap, neither of them paying much attention to what's on the television.

"I know," Jared admits. He hasn't really enjoyed thinking about it. "You're coming back though, right?"

"You want me to?"

Jared's eyes widen, and he stares down at Jensen. "Uh. Yes," he says. "You have to, right? Blake's starting college here, and you need to settle down somewhere, right? And, um, it's not like you'd have to retire; you can still go sing anywhere you want, and you'd have a home to come back to. Which. Which would be good, right?" He's aware that he's babbling, but a slight edge of panic has taken hold of him, and he can't stop.

Jensen sits up and stares at the television for a few moments. "Yeah, I know. I just. Um. Look, we've only known each other for two weeks, Jared. It's going kinda fast, don't you think?"

"I'm not asking you to move in with me," Jared protests. "I'm just asking for a chance here."

"Yeah," Jensen says, biting his lip thoughtfully. He doesn't say anything else.

~~~

"You said you wanted to meet him," Jensen says baldly, pushing Jared through the doors to the foyer of his hotel, "and we're leaving in a couple of days."

"But..."

"No fucking buts," Jensen says. He grabs hold of Jared's arm when he tries to make a dash for it, and propels him into the elevator. "Why're you so scared, anyway? It's not like he's going to be giving you grades."

"Yeah, he is," Jared mumbles. "What if he hates me?"

"Jared, you're an idiot," Jensen says with a grin on his face, and ignores the way Jared screws his own face up in a grimace. They stand in silence while the elevator ascends, and Jared checks his appearance in the reflective doors to make sure he doesn't have anything stuck in his teeth and that his hair is not going every which way. He feels like he's going to a job interview, and wonders whether that would be more scary or less.

All too soon they're outside the door, and Jensen looks at Jared, a small frown on his face.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jared replies, exhaling loudly and calming himself down.

"Christ, Jared, it's just my son," Jensen says, rolling his eyes and grinning. He opens the door and ushers Jared inside.

It's a fairly nice hotel suite; small living area, corner kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. There's a boy on the couch playing what looks like Tony Hawk. The sound is up fairly high, and the boy doesn't seem to have noticed their arrival.

"Blake!" Jensen says loudly.

"Yeah?" the kid says, not turning around.

"Uh, can you pause it for a second?"

"Gimme a sec, Dad," Blake says, frantically mashing the buttons to perform some obscenely difficult trick involving burning tires. It doesn't look like he's going to succeed, and Jared nudges Jensen, who's obviously gearing up to speak a little more firmly.

"He'll crash in a sec," Jared murmurs, and sure enough, he's right. Blake tosses the controller down with a noise of disgust, and turns around.

"Uh, hi," Jared says, trying to smile. Blake bears a strong resemblance to Jensen, although he's stockier and his hair is darker. He blinks owlishly at Jared, looking slightly confused, and then looks at Jensen.

"This is Jared," Jensen says nervously. "He, uh, I told you about him."

Light dawns in Blake's eyes. "Oh," he says. "Hi." He smiles slightly, and an uncomfortable silence falls. Blake shifts on the couch and looks at Jensen. "So, uh, can I go back to my game?"

"You got a second controller?" Jared asks. Jensen looks at him in surprise, and Blake eyes him up before shrugging and indicating the space on the couch next to him.

Half an hour later, Jared finally feels vindicated for all the time he wastes at home playing Tony Hawk. He even lets Blake beat him a few times, just to be nice.

~~~

Jensen watches Jared and his son, and his heart clenches tightly. He doesn't even know if he'll be coming back to stay in three months; it could end up just being two days to get Blake settled into college before he heads somewhere else to sing. How can this possibly work? Would it be better to end it now, before he leaves, or live in hope that they've got something worth working for?

~~~

The day before Jensen leaves for England is spent sitting on the couch in Jared's living room watching all four Die Hard movies. Jensen's been quiet for most of the day, and Jared wonders whether he's sad about leaving, or whether it's something else. His stomach churns when he considers the 'something else' option, and he's almost afraid to ask. But when he pulls Jensen close for a kiss and Jensen resists slightly, he has to say something.

"What's going on?" he asks bluntly. They haven't talked about where this is going since that morning almost a week ago when Jensen burned the breakfast.

Jensen stops the DVD and turns to face Jared, a serious look on his face.

"Y-you..." Jared stutters. "You're going to end it, aren't you?"

"Not exactly," Jensen says evasively. "More like... look, three months is a long time. We've known each other three weeks. How can we know enough about each other to commit to something after such a short time, especially since I'm going away and won't be back 'til September? And I don't even know if I'll be back to stay, because I have no idea what could happen in the meantime. What if the Metropolitan Opera offers me a part? Or the Paris Opera? I have a career, Jared, and I'm in my prime. I... I can't throw that away on a hope."

Jared sits in silence. He knows Jensen's right, he fucking knows it. It doesn't make it hurt any less, though, and he doesn't know what to say.

"I-I don't want to end it," Jensen says, desperation coloring his voice. "I've never done anything like this, I've never had such a huge conflict of interest. I want to come back to Dallas in September, I have to, even if just for Blake's sake. I want to keep in touch. I want to see where this goes."

He looks so unhappy that Jared can't help but scoot over and pull him into a hug. Jensen's tense, and Jared rubs his back slowly to ease him.

"We'll keep in touch," he says quietly. "We-we'll email, and talk on the phone, and send inappropriate texts to each other at inappropriate moments. And... and if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. But there's no way in hell I'm not going to try."

"Yeah," Jensen says quietly. "Yeah, we gotta try." He takes hold of Jared's hand, interlacing their fingers and holding it almost too tight. Jared puts the DVD back on, and they don't talk much for the rest of the night. Jensen leaves before it gets too late; he's still got to pack, and the plane to England leaves at some ungodly hour of the morning.

They part with quiet promises and kisses, and when Jensen's gone, Jared goes and sits on his couch and doesn't think about anything at all.

~~~

got lost in the tube this morning

hahaha! im naked & cooking eggs

fuck off im working, dont need that image thanks

2day i threw my baton @ steve

wtf why?

he was being an ass duh

sounds fun 2day i got yelled @ in front of 50 people it wasn't fun

what'd u do wrong?

was 5 min late cause i spent 2 long in shower beating off thanks 2 u

i do that every day & im never late

jerk off

pot, kettle

~~~


They email almost every day; Jensen's surprisingly verbose when it comes to writing, and his messages are always filled with interesting stories about the opera. Jared replies in kind, telling him about how Chris has a new girlfriend and has miraculously stopped being late for rehearsal, how the preparations for Sandy's wedding in August are going, and how Jared's family will be visiting in late July. That's going to be a nightmare; he'll have to give up his king size bed to his parents and sleep in the spare room with his sister on a fold-out bed.

In early August, a little over five weeks before he's due to return and just after Sandy's wedding, Jensen stops returning Jared's emails and texts, and his phone starts going straight to voicemail.

~~~

whats going on

jen???

im assuming yr busy & cant email but itd be nice to say something

"Hey, it's me again... just wondering if everything's okay. Um. Call me?"

"For God's sake, Jensen, I'm not asking you to fucking marry me. And I know you're not too busy to talk. This isn't fair."

"Fuck you, man, have the guts to tell me if you want to end it, don't just fucking go silent on me."

"Please pick up, you have to be there. It's three in the morning, you are there, I know it. Just ... call me back? Please?"

~~~

Jensen listens to the latest message again and snaps his phone shut. He shoves it in his pocket and gets back to the rehearsal, putting Jared out of his mind completely. It's becoming easier as the days pass, easier to ignore Jared's increasingly-frantic emails and texts and voice messages at three in the morning asking Jensen to pick up, for the love of God. To make it worse, he feels so damned alone here in London. Making friends is difficult, and even after all this time there's no one here who Jensen can really count on for more than a few pints of beer at the pub.

There's only one person in England who he feels like he can talk to about this, even though he might not be able to give very good advice. When he gets home, Jensen picks up the phone to call Blake.

"Dad?"

"Hey. How's Manchester?"

"Uh, the same as it was yesterday, Dad."

Jensen sighs. "I..." he starts, and doesn't know how to continue.

"What?"

"Um. Do you..." Jensen clears his throat and tries again. Jesus Christ this shouldn't be so hard. "Do you have a minute?"

The background noise - Jensen can only assume it's the Playstation belonging to Blake's friend - fades, and he hears a door close. "Dad, what the hell is going on?"

"Uh, nothing," Jensen lies. "Just wanted to check you're set for coming back to London tomorrow. We need to get you all sorted for going to college."

"Yeah, I am," Blake says suspiciously. "If that's all you wanted, I'll go..."

"No!" Jensen yelps. "Wait. Wait, I. I was hoping you might be able to give me some..." He rubs over his eyes and sighs.

"For God's sake, Dad, spit it out."

"Need advice," Jensen mumbles.

There's a significant pause on the other end of the line. "Advice," Blake says carefully. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because," Jensen says sharply.

"Fine! What on?"

"I think I fucked up with Jared," Jensen says.

"Jared, the guy you wouldn't shut up about for the first few weeks we were in London?"

"Yeah."

"You do realize you're asking for relationship advice from someone who's only ever had one girlfriend, right? A relationship that lasted like, three weeks?"

"Yeah," Jensen admits. "I could do with a fresh perspective." It's funny; he can practically hear his son rolling his eyes. "I, uh, I haven't talked to him in almost a month."

"Why not? Hasn't he been home?"

"No. I-I've been ignoring him."

There's another silence from Blake. "Why?"

"I don't know," Jensen admits. "I just started thinking about how I don't know where I'm going to end up and that it's altogether possible that he'll meet someone else while I'm gone and that I should concentrate on my career and there isn't really space in that for a partner, especially not one who's tied down to one place. And, well, once I figured all that out I thought it would be best to just. Um. Stop. Not drag it out."

"Okay," Blake says, "let me get this straight. You're an idiot, and you're scared."

"What? I'm not!"

"Shut up. You're running away from him. Cause you're scared. And an idiot, did I mention that? I'm only seventeen and even I know you're an idiot. Everyone knows you don't just stop calling a girl, or guy, whatever, when you're not interested anymore. You tell them. Fucking hell, Dad!"

"It's not just that!" Jensen blurts out, trying not to be offended.

"What else is it?"

"I can't just go shacking up with some guy. I've got to think about you, you're my son, you're all young and impressionable and stuff, I have to put you first!"

"Jesus Christ," Blake mutters. "You're kidding, right? I'm almost eighteen, Dad. I know how sex works. Hell, I even know how gay sex works. I'm too old for this 'impressionable' stuff. You've protected me my entire life, even when I didn't need or want it, so don't you fucking dare screw up the rest of your life because of me."

"But..."

"And another thing - I know why mom left. Uncle Joshua told me when I was fifteen. I was old enough to deal with it then. I think I'm old enough to deal with you being happy for once in your life. And the whole singing thing? You know you can sing in the USA, right? They still want you there, you told me. Just... I dunno, work from home for a while. Get a contract in Texas or something. Work it out, and don't call me again 'til you've talked to Jared." He hangs up, and Jensen stares at his phone, the call ended message flashing bright.

"Fuck," he says quietly to himself.

~~~

The phone rings, and as usual Jared rushes over to check the caller display, his heart in his mouth. He sighs when he sees that it's Sandy, and flops down on the couch before picking it up.

"Oh good, you're up," she says sharply.

Jared glances at his watch. "It's four in the afternoon."

"I was going to just drop in but lately you've been..."

"Sleeping?"

"That's one way of putting it," Sandy mutters. "Get dressed, have a shower, shave, put on some clean clothes. You've got fifteen minutes before I get there."

"What, are we going out?"

"No, I'm just sick of staring at your smelly, unshaven ass whenever I come over." She hangs up, and Jared glares at the phone before putting it down and going to take a shower.

~~~

"It's been how long?"

"Almost four weeks," Jared says, staring into his coffee cup. It's not quite empty, but the dregs are a disgusting dark stain at the bottom, and he goes back into the kitchen for a refill.

"And you've called, emailed, texted, the works?"

"Yeah." Jared throws himself back down on the couch, ignoring the familiar creak of the springs.

"What was his last message again?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." Jared digs around in his pocket for his cell, and goes to the inbox, where Jensen's final message remains locked and still undeleted after four weeks.

i accidently wore odd socks 2day. 1 was red & 1 was grey. i fail at being gay

Sandy reads it and smiles briefly before handing the phone back. "And nothing since then."

"Nothing."

"Has anyone else heard from him?"

"Yeah," Jared says bitterly. "I asked Steve about it at rehearsal the other night, and he got a message from him just last week. So he's not too busy or anything."

Sandy frowns and bites her lip. "He must have panicked," she says.

"But why?" Jared demands. "What is it about me that's panic-worthy? It's not like I asked him to move in with me or run away to Massachusetts to get married!"

"I know, baby," Sandy says sadly, shifting closer and pulling Jared down so his head is on her lap. She strokes his hair, and Jared feels himself start to choke up like he's five years old and his mom is comforting him after he hurt himself.

"He'll, he'll be back in just over a week," Jared mumbles. "He has to be."

"Yeah, he will be," Sandy says, but there's a hint of doubt in her voice that she can't hide.

"I just wish he'd had the guts to break it off with me, not just go silent," Jared mumbles. He curls his knees up to his chest, knowing he must seem like a small boy instead of the thirty-two-year-old man he is.

"It was gutless," Sandy agrees. "There's nothing worse than breaking up with someone and not having the balls to tell them."

Jared nods and closes his eyes. They sit like that for several minutes, Sandy's small hands combing through Jared's hair and removing the tangles, Jared almost dozing off on her lap. The phone rings suddenly, jerking Jared out of his half-asleep state, and he sighs, closing his eyes again.

"I'm not answering it unless it's Jensen," he mutters petulantly. Sandy leans over to look at the display and hums softly. "Get your ass up, then," she says, and Jared's eyes fly open.

"What?" He sits up so fast his head spins, and climbs over Sandy to get to the phone, which is indeed flashing 'JENSEN' on the caller id display. "Fuck!" He grabs it and presses the button, clearing his throat as he does so.

"He-hello?" he says.

"Jared?"

"Yeah." He sits down, and Sandy mouths 'I'll be in the bedroom' to him before leaving the room.

"Um, it's Jensen."

"Yeah, I know."

There's a pause, and Jared wonders what he should say.

"How, uh, how have you been?" Jensen asks.

Jared's teeth clench. "Stop with the crap," he growls. "What the hell, Jen?"

"I..."

"It's been weeks," Jared says, his voice cracking a little. "Weeks with no word, and couldn't you have just had the courage to break it off with me if you wanted to? Instead of making me worry and wonder what the hell I'd-"

"I don't want to break it off!" Jensen interrupts.

Jared pauses in his tirade, standing by the window and staring at the dry grass in his yard. "Then... why the long silence?" he asks.

Jensen sighs; Jared can hear the sounds of leather furniture creaking over the line as Jensen sits down. "Panic, I guess. I panicked."

"What about?" Jared's honestly confused.

Jensen laughs bitterly. "I don't even know. God, I've been such an idiot. At first I thought it was just the career thing. Not knowing where I'm going to be. And then I talked to Blake and realized that I'm also worried about how he'll take it. How he'll cope with me having a boyfriend. It's possibly why I haven't had a relationship for such a long time. He, uh, he set me pretty damned straight on both scores."

"Smart kid," Jared mumbles.

"I've always put him first," Jensen says. "He's always been the person I have to think about before anyone else, including me, and I'm not used to the idea of doing something that might end up with me putting him second."

"I... I think I kinda understand," Jared says, scratching his head and screwing his face up. "Did he swear at you?"

"Yeah." Jensen chuckles briefly before turning serious again. "Look, I'm going to be back in Dallas in a little over a week. We've only got two more performances and I doubt I'll have to sing in either of them unless the lead tenor comes down with a sudden case of laryngitis tomorrow. And I haven't signed any more contracts for the next six months. And, well, I've been in touch with some opera houses in Texas, and they sounded kinda interested."

"So... you're coming back here to stay for a while?"

Jensen sighs. "A while ago you offered me a part in the St Matthew Passion. Don't suppose you still have an opening?"

Jared hums thoughtfully. "I'll have a word with Chad."

"Thanks," Jensen says quietly. "I'm so sorry, I really am. I wish I could have a do-over on this past month."

"I guess I kinda understand where you're coming from," Jared says, wondering if he really means it. "When do you get in? I'll pick you up from the airport if I'm not at work."

There's a rustle of papers, and then Jensen's voice returns. "A week on Tuesday, seven at night." He gives Jared the flight numbers, and Jared jots them down on the back of his hand.

"Awesome," Jared says. "Um. I'd invite you to stay, but. Uh. I think we might need to talk about some stuff first."

"Yeah, we do," Jensen sighs.

"So. I guess I'll see you on Tuesday," Jared says. He turns around and sees Sandy standing in the doorway, a smile on her face. He gives her a thumbs up and a huge grin, and she grins back and mouths thank God!

Jared puts the phone down with a sigh of relief, and collapses back onto the couch.

"Well?" Sandy asks.

Jared raises an eyebrow at her. "Like you weren't listening at the door."

Sandy doesn't look at all guilty, and shrugs. "I only heard your side of it, though. What'd he have to say for himself?"

"That he panicked. Mostly about how having a relationship would affect his son, and that his career tends to take him all over the world."

"Ah," Sandy says.

Jared glances at her and frowns. "What? Are those stupid reasons?"

"It's a hell of a lot better than some reasons I've heard," she says. "Like 'I'm not ready to commit' or some shit like that." She taps her chin thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but are they good enough reasons to forgive him?"

"Do you want to forgive him?"

Jared looks at his hands. "Yeah, I do," he says quietly, and smiles.

~~~

The week passes quickly, and Jensen is once again responding to Jared's emails and messages. He sends frequent emails talking about nothing much, and random texts throughout the day keep Jared smiling. There's not quite the ease of communication that there had been earlier; there's no more messages about sex, and Jared can sense Jensen's hesitation to broach the subject. He figures it'll be easy enough to work it out when Jensen gets back.

~~~

Dallas Fort Worth Airport is crowded when Jared arrives to pick Jensen and Blake up. He's nervous, his hands cold and sweaty on the steering wheel, and he starts to panic when he drives around for fifteen minutes and can't find a parking space. He eventually finds one with five minutes to spare before Jensen's flight gets in, and spends three of those minutes sitting in his truck trying to calm himself down.

Just as he's walking in the door of Terminal C, there's an announcement over the loudspeaker.

"Announcing the arrival of American Airlines Flight 2341 from Chicago O'Hare, at Gate C31."

Jared glances at a nearby map; of course it's the gate furthest from where he is right now. He sets off at a quick pace, hoping that Jensen will be one of the last people off the plane. When he reaches the gate, he immediately spots Jensen and Blake. They look exhausted from the long trip; Jensen's face is drawn and pale, his hair is uncharacteristically messy, and his clothes are rumpled and sweaty. Nevertheless, Jared's heart leaps in his chest and he strides over, a huge grin forming on his face and his nerves melting away.

Jensen turns and sees him, and his face lights up. "Jared!" he calls in relief, walking over to meet him. He look like he's about to grab Jared and pull him in for a kiss, but Jared stops him, instead just giving him a full-bodied hug.

"Texas, dude," he whispers in Jensen's ear. "We're not in London where guys can kiss on the street corners."

"Don't really care," Jensen mutters back, holding Jared tight. He doesn't smell very good, but he feels amazing, and Jared's about to say fuck it and kiss him anyway when Blake pointedly clears his throat behind him. They break apart, and Jared's pleased to see a warm flush coloring Jensen's cheeks.

"Luggage?" Jared asks.

Jensen nods and points towards the baggage claim not far away. "Blake, you wanna go get the bags?"

"But-"

"Just go get the bags, please," Jensen says firmly, not taking his eyes off of Jared. Blake grunts and does as he's told, and Jensen indicates a corridor not far away with a tilt of his head and a gleam in his eyes. Jared follows him without question, and they find a semi-private alcove hidden between a couple of vending machines, where Jensen yanks him in by his shirt and kisses him, the way Jared's been wanting to kiss him for the past three months. He tastes of sweat and airplane food and exhaustion, but Jared doesn't care; he holds him close and licks his mouth open, tongue darting in, relishing the little grunts and moans that Jensen makes under his hands.

"So fucking good to see you again," Jensen mumbles as Jared moves away from his mouth and kisses his neck, his jawline, his ear. Jared nods and shivers against him, pushing Jensen's legs apart with his thighs and settling between them. He'd been so uncertain of this, of how things would play out between them, but now that he's got Jensen here with him, he can't help but think it's going to be okay.

"Come stay with me," he says impulsively, nuzzling the soft skin of Jensen's neck.

There's a pause, and he lifts his head to look at Jensen. "For how long?" Jensen asks, a serious look on his face.

"As long as you want," Jared replies. Jensen grins and pulls Jared in for another kiss, and they're just getting into it again when there's a groan from behind them.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Blake grumbles. "Save it 'til you're somewhere more private!" He drops the bags at their feet in disgust and walks off, dragging his own suitcase behind him.

Jared and Jensen look at each other and burst out laughing.



Epilogue: Three months later

"Where are my black socks?" Jensen yells, rummaging through the laundry basket. All he can find are white ones and red ones and pink ones and striped ones and running ones and Christ, they're meant to be leaving in five minutes and he can't find any socks.

"Look under the bed!" Jared calls from the bathroom, where he's brushing his teeth and taming his hair. Jensen grumbles and gets down on his hands and knees to peer under the bed, and is unsurprised to find no less than seven black socks, all slightly dusty. He grabs two that look similar enough and shakes the worst of the dust off of them before giving them an experimental sniff. He winces as he does so; clearly he's been living with Jared for too long. A quick once-over with a clothes brush, and they're good to go.

By the time he's all dressed, Jared's finished in the bathroom, so Jensen goes in to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He adjusts his bow tie and checks to make sure there aren't any flecks of food left in his teeth, then goes to find Jared.

He's back in the kitchen, his apron tied over his dress shirt, trying to scrape the frying pan clean of the remains of what was supposed to be dinner. "I can't believe you still can't cook eggs," he gripes when Jensen walks in, and waves the scraper at him.

Jensen shrugs. "Only one of us needs to be able to cook, and you're getting better every day. Unlike me, who is getting worse."

Jared mutters darkly under his breath about how Jensen probably burns things on purpose so he doesn't have to cook, and gives up on the frying pan, filling it with water and washing his hands.

"Ready?" he asks. He dries his hands and takes the apron off, and Jensen nods.

~~~

The applause seems never-ending; Jensen's in a slight state of shock over how long it's been going on for. The crowd doesn't seem to want him to leave the stage, and whenever he does, the roar of applause and cheering swells even louder, drawing him back. Finally, it starts to die down and he's able to breathe properly again. He and the other soloists are about to leave the stage for the final time when he hears someone tap the microphone at the edge of the stage.

"Before you go, ladies and gentlemen..." It's Jared, and Jensen wonders what on earth he's doing. The crowd falls silent, waiting expectantly. "As you all know, our very own Jensen Ackles has been very successful abroad, most recently performing the role of Doctor Faust at the Royal Opera House in London." There's a smattering of cheers and applause, and Jensen blushes. "You might be happy to hear that after so many years away from home, Jensen has informed me that he is planning to stay here for the foreseeable future. He's already agreed to play the role of Ferrando in the Dallas Opera's performance of Così fan tutte next March."

The roar of the crowd almost knocks Jensen off of his feet. People are standing, cheering, stomping their feet, and he's stunned at the display. He takes a bow, his entire body shaking like a leaf, and feels like he might fall over. Jared's suddenly right next to him, clapping him on the back and squeezing his arm, and Jensen doesn't even hesitate to draw him into a hug. The noise of the crowd increases, and Jared whispers in his ear, "They love you more than they love me."

"Course they do," Jensen murmurs in reply. "You're from San Antonio."

Jared laughs and draws away briefly. "You love me despite that, right?"

Jensen pretends to think about it for a moment, and grins. "Yeah," he says. "I do love you."

END

---

Notes and explanations (some definitions from wikipedia)

The Messiah: George Frideric Handel's most famous creation and one of the most popular works in Western choral literature. It is based on the life of Christ.

Concertmaster: The leader of the first violin section of a symphony orchestra. The concertmaster makes decisions regarding bowing and other technical details of violin playing for the violins, and sometimes all of the string players; and is in charge of leading the orchestra in tuning before concerts and rehearsals and other technical aspects of orchestra management. The concertmaster will walk onto stage prior to performing, take a bow, and receive applause on behalf of the ensemble.

The trumpet role in the Messiah The trumpet only plays four times during the Messiah, conveniently spaced out through the entire thing so the trumpet players have to sit on the stage for the whole performance even though they are only playing four times. I have heard of trumpet players bringing magazines or books on stage with them, although that would be very unprofessional. There is only one time during the performance when the trumpet player has a solo role: the bass aria "The Trumpet Shall Sound".

Covent Garden: The location of the Royal Opera House in London. One of the foremost opera houses in the world. The building is often referred to as 'Covent Garden'.

LTCL: Licentiate of Trinity College London. Very high level of achievement in an instrument.

Accompagnato/Recitative: See wiki definition; in particular, the section on accompagnato.

Rhodes Scholarship: A prestigious international scholarship to take up postgraduate study at Oxford University. Approximately 90 people worldwide are selected each year.

Nessun Dorma: An aria from the final act of Giacomo Puccini's opera Turandot, and one of the best known arias in all opera. Pavarotti's recording of the song was used by the BBC for the 1990 FIFA World Cup in Italy. It became a sporting anthem and Pavarotti's signature song. He performed it during his final performance in 2006 and it was played at his funeral.

The final line - "Vincero!" (victory) - ends on a sustained B, one of the highest notes in the tenor range.

It's an amazing aria, but has in my opinion been over-used in the media, especially films, and as a result has become slightly cliché. That doesn't stop it being incredible, though. It sends shivers down my spine.

The Hallelujah Chorus: The most famous movement of the entire piece. In many parts of the world, it is customary for the audience to stand during this movement. This is thought to stem from a performance of the piece for King George II, who stood during the Hallelujah Chorus. Because it is protocol to stand when the monarch stands, everyone else stood as well. There are many theories as to why the King may have stood, ranging from him standing to acknowledge Christ as the king of kings, to him needing to relieve the discomfort of his gout.

*

Jared's role in this story is loosely based off the man who conducted the performance of the Messiah I took part in recently. He's tall and skinny, with flailing arms, a wicked sense of humour, and the ability to put everyone at ease. During the interval of the performance, he came into the choir room still buttoning his shirt up; either he had been having a tryst with someone or he was changing his shirt. I figured it was most likely the latter. ;) He has music qualifications out his ass and is perfectly capable of playing the harpsichord while conducting. It's quite impressive to watch when he's doing that; he conducts with his entire body, not just his arms.

One particular aspect of Jensen's role is loosely based upon a man who was brought up in my hometown, who went to a local high school and sang in local performances and conducted local choirs. He did extremely well for himself, and is currently in great demand in opera circles across the world. Despite this, he still finds time to occasionally come back here to sing, and never fails to fill the town hall and garner a huge amount of support from the people here. This is how I see the audience reacting when Jensen decides to stay in Dallas - he's theirs, and they're so damned proud of him doing well, and having him back to stay would be fantastic.

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