In This Hell of a Season 2/2

[dugindeep]

Previous





“What the hell you doin’ here so early?”

Jared slowly brings his head up from his computer screen to find Beaver glaring at him. “Uh, working?”

“You lose a partner recently?” Beaver asks, glances at Jensen’s empty desk.

He takes a deep breath, trying to not relive the morning he’s had. “No, he’ll be here …” Jared wisely leaves the some time or after he washes his one-night stand away unsaid.

“I’m here,” Jensen says a second later. He’s sliding his suit jacket across the back of his chair and easing into the seat, eyes catching Jared’s every few seconds like he’s checking on him.

Jared gives a tight smirk to Beaver and points at Jensen. “See, he’s here.”

Beaver rolls his eyes. “Alright, no reason to be a shit. What’ve you guys got?”

Just so he doesn’t have to look at Jensen, Jared goes ahead. “Ferris says the heart attack was caused by a shot of heroin laced with arsenic.” At Beaver’s skeptical look, Jared chuckles. “Yeah, I know. Who the hell does that? Fuck if I know. Except this guy that I do know from a few years back gave me a couple names for dealers in Aguilera’s neighborhood.”

“Any of them a scientist?” Jensen asks quietly, seeming like he’s trying to tease yet is extremely cautious.

“Not that I can tell from the names,” Jared replies. “But I do recognize a few. One used to hang over by Kelly High School and deal to kids.”

Jensen seems interested in that, even if his voice is still tentative to lay blame. “Maybe deal to Chris?”

Jared shrugs. “Not a far leap. It’s all in the same neighborhood.”

“Alright,” Beaver says firmly, knocking at their desk. “Go run it down and close this thing.”

Jared flings off a two-finger salute and resolutely ignores the fact that Jensen’s still watching him. He hears Jensen clear his throat and pause. Jared just closes down the database on his screen and a few other windows so they can start their day.

“Hey, about this morning-” Jensen starts.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jared insists as he rises and grabs his jacket. “Let’s get down to Kelly and see what Chris’s story is. Maybe he’s gotten into trouble at school before.”

Jensen’s startled with Jared’s abruptness, for sure, but he stands as well and brings his jacket with him as they walk through the bullpen. “It’s the middle of August,” he points out.

Jared steps quickly to keep ahead of Jensen, wanting to do anything but look at him right now for fear his stomach will bottom out once again to see the strange guilt set on Jensen’s face. “Administration’s gotta be in there for summer school and the upcoming semester.”





“Chris Aguilera?” the Dean, a Mrs. Katherine Cole, asks slowly.

Jared can feel his energy drain down his face, through his chest and legs, and out his toes as if it’s literally leaving him and about to pool on the cheap carpeting of the Dean’s Office. Every minute feels worse than the one before and he needs sleep and some space where he can just not think about the fact that he’s only had a 30-minute nap, had to watch Jensen see a one-night stand off, and now has the displeasure of asking a sweet, elder, high school dean if there is a heroin problem in her school.

Dean Cole types at the keyboard on the counter she’s standing behind, eyes watching the screen as she searches files. “Name doesn’t ring a bell,” she says after a bit, “But yeah, he’s one of ours. Junior starting in two weeks. Three-point-eight GPA. Gold honor roll last semester. No sports or extracurricular activities.”

Jared lifts an eyebrow at that grade point average. Somehow, he’d expected something really low in response to Jesse’s mistreatment. Instead, he feels a little spark come up in his question. “Three-point-eight and it doesn’t ring a bell in this school? A kid like that stands out, don’t you think?”

She straightens her shoulders and stands tall, bristling. “Detective, we see a whole lot of bad in this school, especially in this office. It’s probably a real good thing I don’t know who he is.”

“So, you didn’t know he was being abused at home then I’d guess?”

“Excuse me,” she asks sharply. “Like I could do anything about that anyway?”

“We’ll never know now,” he says airily.

“Alright,” Jensen murmurs as he reaches for Jared’s shoulder and tries to nudge him to the side. The second Jensen’s touching him, Jared wrenches away and shakes his head and shoulders out, trying to calm himself down. He knows he’s out of line already, but it’s not like he can take it back, and Jensen stepping in isn’t helping.

Jensen shoots him an oddly look as he steps up to the counter, but when he speaks calmly to the dean, he’s almost sadly smiling. “Forgive my partner. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s nine in the morning,” she replies flatly.

He shrugs and smirks a little. “Yeah, well, we don’t sleep much on the job, so …”

Dean Cole sighs and lets her shoulders drop, appearing way less intimidating or offended. “So, Chris Aguilera. He was abused at home?”

“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “Likely by his step-dad.”

“No offense, detectives, but what does that have to do with my school?”

“His step-dad had a heart attack two days ago, assisted by an illegal substance.”

She eyes them both and Jared grits his teeth to keep from messing up what Jensen’s cleaned up so far. “And you wanna know if there’s a drug problem here?” When Jensen motions in question, she sighs. “I have 3200 kids, all from low to extremely low incomes, and the neighborhood has fallen apart in the last decade. We do what we can here to get kids an education, but there’s no way I can guarantee that there isn’t. They’re high school kids. They drink and smoke.”

“What about something harder?” Jared asks relatively calmly. “Can you think of anyone specifically with heroin?”

She takes a deep breath and suddenly her eyes are soft. “You think one of my students killed his step-dad with heroin?” When neither Jared nor Jensen reply and keep watching her, she sighs again. “I can’t think of one off the top of my head, but I can talk to my assistant dean and the drug task force.”

Jared and Jensen each slide a card across the counter and Jared nods slowly. “Anything you can find, it’s greatly appreciated.”

As they take the hallway out, Jensen asks, “Maybe we should check out Gage Park High. It’s not Chris’s school, but it’s not too far from here.”

He only shakes his head in reply, brain too foggy to figure out if that’s the best course of action. And if not, then what is?

Once they’re outside, Jensen puts his hand to Jared’s back, and starts to say, “Hey, you-” but Jared takes the front steps faster to break contact and gets in the car before Jensen can finish his sentence.

Jensen slides into the driver’s seat without doing anything else. He’s so obviously glaring at Jared, and Jared just keeps staring forward. “We ought to talk about this morning.”

“I’m just,” Jared says tightly then sighs. “I’m tired, running on a fucking nap, and feel like shit over this case.”

“I’m not feeling great about it either,” Jensen quickly complains.

Jared keeps looking forward. His breath comes hard and loud as he tries to will himself to calm down, though the heat inside the car only makes him more anxious and irritable.

He sighs to relax. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for him to start taking every minute between them so personally. They’re on a case; they have to focus on that.

After a few more awkward moments, Jensen huffs, turns forward, and starts the car up. As he pulls away, he spits out, “We were doing fine until this morning.”

Jared slips down a bit in the seat, rests his elbow on the inside window ledge of the door, and covers his face against the harsh August sun. “I just need some sleep or something.”

The car jerks as Jensen zips to the left and pulls a three-point turn. Jared glances over and Jensen sharply says, “Obviously you should just go home then,” before heading north on California instead of south towards Gage Park High School.

“What?” Jared squawks out.

“You’re not good to me like this. Besides, if you’re gonna be a dick about this morning, then I’d rather just go it alone for the rest of the day.”

Jared finally looks at Jensen, only getting his profile as he easily turns right onto the expressway to head back towards Jared’s apartment.





After a full afternoon of sleep, Jared had woken up fully refreshed, and headed to the station. Jensen was off on his own and it wasn’t until the next morning when Jared got a download of all that had gone on in his absence.

A trip back to the Aguileras’ yielded nothing – both Sofia and Chris denying the abuse or any involvement with Jesse’s death. A few neighbors at least verified that Chris was home the night before Jesse died.

But under Jensen’s masterful detective skills – even though Jared doesn’t yet have the full story – right now, they’re both sitting across from a 21-year-old who’d spent his formative years in and out of foster homes and the juvenile system and lately has seen his share of holding cells at 26th and California: Cook County Jail.

Steven Richardson has closely shorn hair and a barely there mustache that does little to age him. Jared’s amazed the jittery way the guy keeps tapping his feet hasn’t unsettled Jensen yet, but Jensen just keeps smiling at the guy like he has all the time in the world.

Beaver had said that Jensen had followed up on the names Jared’s contact had and around midnight, they’d shaken Richardson out of Kelly Park, a block from the Aguileras’ home. Their new suspect had a dozen dime bags of coke in his pocket and a stash of heroin twice the legal classification for intent to sell.

Just before they’d entered the Interrogation Room, Jensen had told Jared that he wasn’t excited about going after Chris for murder, but he’d be happy to nail this guy for everything he was carrying and then some. They both figure (hope, really) the District Attorney will go easy on Chris for the history of abuse and run after this dealer.

“Steven,” Jensen says smoothly. “Just admit it.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Richardson replies with his chin up high.

Jensen smirks and folds his hands together, thumb tapping the top of his other hand to the same nervous rhythm Richardson’s foot is making under the table.

Jared leans back and crosses his arms, letting Jensen take the lead. After all, Jensen’s the one who hauled him in; he deserves this.

“We picked you up a block from where Chris lives,” Jensen explains quickly. “You have a record of selling at the high school he goes to. And you had it on you. What part is supposed to say you didn’t do it?”

“The part where I don’t know the kid,” Richardson insists as he nods towards the picture on the table. It’s Chris’s sophomore class picture, the same one that is framed in the Aguilera’s home and had made Sofia smile warmly.

Jensen turns over another photo that’s been sitting at his elbow and slowly pushes it forward. It shows the whole family: Sofia, Chris, Rosa, and Jesse. Jared watches Richardson’s eyes widen for a second before he schools his face back to stubborn anger. Jensen taps at Jesse Aguilera’s head. “Chris took your juice, shot up his step-dad, and the next morning, this guy dropped dead in Grant Park. That’s all ‘cause you just had to make a buck, no matter that it was a 15-year-old you’re selling to.”

The guy’s face pales and he slowly shakes his head. “No, no, man. I didn’t sell to that kid. I didn’t kill no dad.”

When Jensen glances at Jared, it’s like a sign, and Jared leans forward on the table. “C’mon, Stevie,” Jared taunts. He grins when Richardson scowls at the name. “Even if you didn’t mean to kill anyone, you still made a buck off some high school kid. He had a 3.8 GPA and he still knew enough to come see you. That’s gotta up your reputation, eh?”

Richardson brings both elbows up to the table, hands still held together with cuffs, and covers his mouth with his fingers. “I didn’t sell to him.”

The nerves are so obvious that Jared goes a few more inches forward and eases his voice. “You know, the amount you were found with will put you away for a good, what?” he asks in Jensen’s direction. “Ten, maybe twenty years?”

“At least,” Jensen replies.

Jared smirks at Richardson. “And those’ll be hard decades while you fend off the label of selling to kids.” Even with his mouth still covered, it’s obvious the Richardson is affected by the threat, so Jared continues. “You say yes, you sold heroin and arsenic to Chris Aguilera, and we’ll talk to the D.A. about your sentence. Maybe even a transfer somewhere that’s a little less scary for a kid like you.”

Richardson seems to think on it, squirming in the hard metal chair, feet kicking around beneath the table as he adjusts his posture. “I didn’t sell to that kid,” he says softly.

“You sure?” Jared asks, nudging the family photo even closer. “You’re one of three dealers in a ten-mile radius who’s known for arsenic. I bet if I ask the other two, they’ll say it’s you.”

“And you know what that means?” Jensen asks.

“No deal,” Jared replies for him.

Richardson drops his hands a few inches, mouth showing before he mumbles, “I want a lawyer.”

Jared’s stomach twists with anger and he can hear Jensen’s small huff of disbelief. Just a few more minutes without that declaration, and they might’ve wrapped the whole thing up. He sits back, slaps his palms hard to the table, and relishes the way Richardson jumps at the noise.

It’s a small comfort to hold when he and Jensen leave the room and find Beaver and District Attorney Tom Welling on the other side of the two-way glass.

“Padalecki,” Welling sighs, though he looks pretty happy to be ragging on them. As always. “You used to be such a good narc. What is it – use it or lose it?”

“Fuck you,” Jared mutters, watching Richardson fidget on the other side of the glass.

Welling shakes his head and smirks. “You two always need me to sweep in and save the day in court.”

“Why don’t you go back to the farm and kiss your own ass some more, huh?” Jensen throws out.

“Someone’s got to,” Jared adds, smiling a little when he hears Jensen chuckle.

“Alright, put the rulers away,” Beaver grumbles. “Move Richardson to Room 4 and we’ll get Aguilera over here.”

“What?” Jared asks, in shock.

“Put Richardson into 4 while we wait for a public defender,” Beaver says slowly, obviously aggravated he has to explain it. “And then you can talk to Aguilera in here. You let ‘em cross paths and see who flinches first.”

“Since when is Chris here?” Jensen asks, sounding just as bothered by the situation.

“Since I told Hodge to bring him in,” Beaver replies. It’s obvious with his straight look that there’s no room for discussion.

Jared sighs, and he can tell Jensen’s tensing up, too. Neither is up for playing games with a kid who’s lived the last three years as a punching bag, but if they can get Chris to admit he bought from Richardson, at least the dealer will go down hard, without a deal.

“Alright, fine,” Jared allows.

Jensen jumps right in to insist, “I’ll talk to Chris.”

“You sure?” Jared asks, and Jensen nods silently “You brought Richardson in. You don’t wanna stick with him?”

It’s obvious when Jensen swallows hard and even if his eyes won’t meet Jared’s, Jared can tell Jensen’s got something sticking to him here and that he really needs to be the one in that room with the kid.

Ten minutes later, Jensen’s talking to the Aguileras, motioning back towards Interrogation Room 1, and Jared’s leading Steven Richardson to 4. It’s noticeable when Richardson spots the family, arm tensing in Jared’s hold and feet stuttering. When Chris passes, the two boys share a look but it doesn’t last long enough to mean anything.

Jared sets Richardson in Room 4, locking another pair of cuffs between the chain of Richardson’s and the ring at the top of the table. He pats Richardson’s shoulder and smirks. “You stay put and I’m sure a lawyer will be here for you in a day or two.”

As Jared turns to the door, Richardson whines. “Man, c’mon, I gotta piss.”

Shrugging, Jared smiles again, and heads back to the observation room off of Room 1 to join Beaver and Welling. They watch Chris fidget at the table, tugging the collar of his t-shirt up on his neck as if that’ll cover the fading bruises they’d seen on Monday.

“Chris,” Jensen says softly as he sits across the table.

Chris twitches and won’t look at Jensen. “I already told you yesterday. I don’t know anything.”

Jensen tips his head to the side and breathes deep. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Licking his lips, Jensen takes his time and slowly lifts his hand up to point towards Chris’s neck. “That doesn’t look too good.”

“I told you. It was a fight at school.”

“You’re not in school right now.”

“It was near school,” Chris insists.

Jensen slowly taps his fingers at the tabletop then spreads his fingers and plants his palm in the space between them. His voice drops so low, Jared can barely hear it through the tiny speaker besides the glass and he steps closer to watch.

“When I was 13, my parents split up. My sister went with my dad and I went with my mom. Always wanted to go with my dad instead. You know, have the guy thing going for me …” he drifts off with a gentle smile. “But, my mom wanted to keep me in the same schools with my friends. My sister was young enough she could find new ones.”

Chris is finally looking right at Jensen. That is, until Jensen drops his voice and admits, “The next year, she had a new boyfriend. He didn’t care much for kids. Especially if they were someone else’s.”

When Jensen’s finished making the statement, Chris’s eyes are aimed at his lap and his shoulders are hunched in, obviously affected by Jensen’s story. Jared is, too, judging by the way his stomach tightens and heart beats a little faster.

He’d known Jensen didn’t have a great experience with his parents’ divorce, that both parents had moved on to remarry with plenty of drama, but this is entirely new and surprising.

“Some nights,” Jensen continues, “He’d come home after a few beers with his buddies and push me around to bring him some more. Sometimes just a light shove into the kitchen, other times a kick to the ribs if I wasn’t moving fast enough.”

In sympathy, Jared rests his arm across his chest, hand closing over his ribs. He’s so transfixed by Jensen’s words that he misses Beaver stepping out until the door snicks when pulled closed again.

Jared glances over his shoulder and Welling looks for a second before frowning at the glass. Jared turns back to the interrogation and catches the tears falling down Chris’s face. No matter how Jensen’s statements have opened the boy up, Chris is still shaking his head, mumbling, “I didn’t do anything. I swear, I didn’t.”

Jensen leans down towards the table, eyes searching for Chris’s. “There were times I would have loved to get the asshole. Sometimes I hate myself for never swinging back.”

Chris’s eyes slide closed and his shoulders pull in, but he’s still shaking his head and mouthing no.

Nothing else comes from the interview and Jensen comes back into the observation room and sighs heavily. He turns his head and twists his neck to stretch, and Jared can only stare at Jensen, trying to discern how many of those words are true and how much was Jensen just doing his job to get a confession. When Welling drops his hand to Jensen’s neck, squeezing a little and patting his shoulder, Jared’s startled to find Jensen looking at him oddly.

“What now?” Jared asks quietly.

Welling shrugs. “I’ve got a warrant going in front of Brickman. It should be done in a few hours and then you can get into the house for a full search.”

“So, Chris goes back to his mom and we keep Richardson here until a defender’s free,” Jared says.

“Yeah, alright,” Jensen agrees quietly.

Jensen leads Chris Aguilera from the room and back to his family with Jared trailing behind. At the same time, Hodge is escorting Richardson back to Room 4, likely from the bathroom he’d asked Jared for. The whole time, Richardson is glancing at Sofia and Rosa with the daughter looking right back.

Jared stops. His feet won’t move and he can’t take his eyes off the 12-year-old girl standing stock still next to her mother and staring at Richardson with her face white as a ghost.

It all crashes on him at once in the most horrifying suspicion that it wasn’t Chris who stabbed his father with a needle full of heroin and arsenic.

He can’t do more than watch the family join together, Sofia wrapping an arm around each of her children and walking them out of the bullpen.

Jensen stands next to Jared, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jay?” he asks oddly, pulling Jared from his thoughts.

Jared shakes his head and feels foggy from then on, until Welling grins at them with a warrant in hand a few hours later.

It’s worse when they’re in the Aguilera’s home. A hypodermic is found stashed in the back of Rosa’s closet, and the 12-year-old admits she did it not only to stop Chris’s abuse, but her own as well. Apparently, Jesse Aguilera had better aim for the young girl; she’s got bruises along her ribs and heavier marks on her back.





Jared enters the small, neighborhood bar and finds Jensen at the end of the bar, leaning on the counter with his hands clamped around a glass of amber liquor.

Jensen doesn’t move for the half minute Jared watches him. He does flinch, however, when Jared sits on the stool next to him. He barely grants Jared a glance then drinks and sighs when he sets the glass back down.

The bartender approaches, announcing last call, and Jared orders them two more glasses of what is likely scotch.

Jared pays the bartender, takes a sip, and carefully puts the glass down. With his eyes aimed across the bar, he asks, “So, how much was true?”

“About what?” Jensen asks slowly.

“What you told Chris Aguilera.”

Jensen wastes time finishing the rest of the drink he had when Jared first came in, then takes another sip from the new glass. “You already know my parents are divorced and remarried.”

It takes all the courage Jared has to specifically ask, “What about that first boyfriend your mom had?”

As if he’s trying to show all the bravado he’s got, Jensen tips his chin up and clears his throat, but still won’t look over. “Some of it.”

“Some?”

“Most of it,” he admits.

“I never knew,” Jared says softly.

Jensen angrily laughs to himself. “And I never knew you were a homophobic asshole.”

As if the morning he’d seen the guy at Jensen’s place wasn’t hard enough on his insides, now they feel like they’re curling up beneath his skin at Jensen’s words. “I’m a what?”

“You were fine with all the jokes until you saw it for yourself, huh?” Jensen asks with a harsh look.

Jared huffs an unbelievable laugh. “I am not homophobic.”

“Then what’s your problem?” He finally turns toward Jared, still angry. “Ever since you saw me with that guy, you’ve been all,” and he motions irritably.

Never in his life has Jared had such a hard time just saying that he’s gay. It was difficult with his parents and family, sure, but they were open and understanding. Now, he keeps it to himself and doesn’t bother to defend or deny. He struggles with the words and manages to say, “Yeah, ‘cause it was you.”

“So, you’re fine with fags as long as your partner’s not one.”

The lights flicker on above them and Jared is distracted with watching the small crowd around them finish up their evenings and head out with the bar closing.

Jensen’s rising from his seat and dropping a few bills on the bar, Jared rises as well, offering, “You wanna get another drink at my place?”

It’s a long stare until Jensen shakes his head and says, “No, not really.”

Even though Jared wants to convince Jensen to say yes, he sighs and lets the invitation drop.

On the way out the bar, Jensen mumbles a goodbye and Jared thinks maybe the weekend will give them the chance to both calm down and they can have the conversation once the stress of this week whittled away.





Jared sits at the edge of his bed after pulling off his now-wrinkled suit pants and shirt. It’s still hot as hell with the AC still broken, but there’s a small oscillating fan working from the corner of his bedroom that brings him a bit of relief every few seconds.

His phone buzzes from where it lays near his pillows, and he reaches back to grab it. It’s Jensen, and Jared drops down to the mattress, wincing at the way the warm sheets instantly stick to his back.

“Yeah,” Jared says in greeting.

There’s silence, enough that Jared figures Jensen misdialed. Jared’s about to hang up when there’s the soft noise of Jensen clearing his throat.

“I’m outside.”

Jared twists towards the window that looks out on his street. He pulls the edge of his curtain away to see Jensen on the sidewalk holding his cell to his ear. His suit jacket is gone, the tie, too, with the sleeves of his white suit shirt folded up to his elbows. Suddenly, Jared doesn’t think Jensen’s ever looked more gorgeous.

“You still want that drink?” Jared tries.

He watches Jensen scratch through his hair, messing it up. “In that sauna? No thank you.”

Jared snorts and smiles a little. “I got a fan in the bedroom, ain’t so bad.”

Jensen glances up at the building, not immediately finding Jared’s window, but when he does, he stalls and gives a shaky wave.

When Jensen stays quiet, Jared can only prompt, “So …”

“So, we’ve both kind of been assholes lately, huh?”

“We really gonna do it like this? You down there and me up here watching you like a creeper?”

Jensen looks away, but Jared can hear a soft laugh through the phone. “Move the fan to the living room and pour me a drink.”

“Alright,” Jared says a bit happier than he’d meant to.

Jared doesn’t bother putting pants on, though he does pull a shirt on before letting Jensen inside. As requested, the round fan is slowly turning in the corner of the living room and aimed towards the couch, and Jared puts two glasses of Johnny Walker on the coffee table as Jensen drops onto the couch.

It takes a few quiet drinks over the next five minutes for Jensen to speak.

“Not everything I said was true.” When Jared looks over, Jensen adds, “About my mom’s boyfriend.”

“I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with that,” Jared says with a slow nod as he stares down at his glass.

“He was a little rough, mostly on my little sister. I knocked him good a few times for her, but he didn’t stick around once my mom saw it.” Jensen tips his head just enough to look at Jared from the corner of his eye. “I’m kinda proud of that girl for protecting her older brother.”

Jared nods and figures he can add to Jensen’s confession. “Me, too.”

Jensen nods, too, and drinks a little more.

“Hopefully family court isn’t too hard on her.”

“Yeah,” Jensen breathes out.

After a few more beats of silence, Jared summons the will to say, “I wasn’t bothered by the guy at your place because it means you’re into guys.” When he’s got Jensen’s full attention, Jared feels his nerves run off on him and he chuckles nervously. “I mean, it’s stupid that I would be.”

Jensen’s eyes flick over Jared’s face and they’re left just staring at each other.

Like yanking a band-aid, Jared spits out, “I can’t be homophobic when I’m gay.”

Next he knows, his drink is spilling over his knee, there’s a press of hot weight against his side, and Jensen’s hand is clamped around the back of his neck. They’re staring at each other and Jensen’s warm breath is wafting over Jared’s lips.

Jared slowly brings his hand over Jensen’s hip, and he sees how Jensen’s long eyelashes flutter when he closes his hand over Jensen’s side. Then he just takes it, leaning forward to smash their mouths together, snaking his hand around Jensen’s back, and pulling him closer.

He can hear and feel Jensen’s short moan when their lips adjust and open together, tongues slipping a second later and swiping hot and wet. The touch of Jensen’s tongue, the heat of his mouth, the taste of him, is more than Jared had ever imagined, and he groans as he shifts to the side so Jensen can settle against him. Their legs slip together, hips pressing just right, and Jared has to groan again.

Jensen slides his hand over the side of Jared’s thigh and under, pulling Jared’s leg up to rock down, and Jared has no clue when he’ll stop embarrassing himself by all the deep noises coming from his chest.

Jared grabs at the back of Jensen’s shirt, already damp with sweat and matching Jared’s own tee, and immediately he wants to tear both of their shirts off. He tugs hard on Jensen’s, pulling it out from Jensen’s belt so he can get his hands underneath, fingers sliding in the sweat across Jensen’s smooth back. When he does, Jensen pushes down hard into Jared’s groin, and Jared shoves up so quickly they turn over the side of the couch and drop to the floor hard.

He looks down to Jensen in shock and then they smirk at each other and he drops down to kiss widely. As Jensen drags Jared’s shirt up, Jared shifts back and tries to catch his breath and think for a second. They’re finally - finally - on the same page, after two years of joking and flirting and dancing around each other, and Jared so wants to take this further.

“Bedroom?” Jared suggests between harsh breaths.

“It’s fucking hot in there, ain’t it?”

They’re both covered in sweat and Jensen’s face is pink and glowing, hair mussed up worse than when he first showed up. Jared laughs and smiles at Jensen. “It’s hot in here, too.”

Jensen pulls on the middle of Jared’s shirt, brings him down so he can say at his lips, “Bring the fan then.”

Jared laughs again; it’s unlikely that will do them any good, but what the hell. He gets up and over to the other side of the room to unplug the fan, and when he turns back, Jensen’s sitting up and staring at him, eyes roaming his whole body, always returning to Jared’s obvious bulge. His dick is painfully hard in his cotton boxer briefs, and Jensen’s long look isn’t helping at all.

A second later, Jensen smiles a little and it lights up his face. Jared feels feeling the warmth of it in his chest.

In the bedroom, the fan does very little even when they’re stripping each other of their clothes and falling into bed. Their sweat makes it easier to slide, dicks pressing together as they rock. Jared runs his palm over Jensen’s hip, down the side, and gropes the meat of Jensen’s thigh, pulling it snug against his own. He goes further under, fingers gripping Jensen’s ass as Jensen wraps his arms tightly around Jared’s neck and forces a hard kiss.

When Jared’s fingers graze Jensen’s hole, Jensen arches and moans. “Oh, fuck, yeah,” he pants into Jared’s mouth.

It’s so uncoordinated as Jared hurries to the edge of the bed and grabs lube and a condom from his bedside table. Jensen goes with him, sucking along the column of Jared’s throat. He hits a spot just beneath Jared’s ear, and Jared can’t breathe with the tingle racing down his spine and making him shiver no matter how stuffy and hot it is in his bedroom.

Jared pushes at Jensen’s chest to force him to the mattress and closes his eyes for a second. “Alright, you can’t do that when I’m trying to focus.”

Jensen chuckles and reaches up to rub his thumb over that spot, smirking when Jared shivers again. “Always thought you looked good in suits, but you’re fucking amazing right now,” Jensen grounds out, voice wrecked and heated.

Swallowing hard, Jared nods in agreement, because the vision of Jensen’s slicked chest rising and falling and his wild eyes intent on Jared’s face are a fantastic sight, too.

He covers his fingers in lube and presses the tip of his index just inside Jensen, relishing the deep growl Jensen gives off as he tips his hips higher, encouraging Jared to push in further, and he does. He works his finger in and out, and when Jensen strokes Jared’s dick in the same rhythm, Jared works his second finger in.

As he watches Jensen’s hole stretch around both his fingers as they slide in and out, Jensen’s hand slows and squeezes on occasion as he ruts down on Jared’s hand.

Dear God, Jared’s mind spins. He wonders how much longer he’ll last with just the picture of Jensen moving on his fingers and Jensen’s hand wrapped tight around his dick. “This ain’t gonna last long,” Jared admits with a breathy laugh.

“We’ve waited long enough,” Jensen replies.

He nods and figures it’s about right and pulls his fingers out. He fumbles to get the condom on, hands wet with lube and sweat, but once he’s ready, he nudges his dick at Jensen’s hole and slowly presses in. Jensen’s groan matches Jared’s own, and Jared slides in so they’re hips to ass. Jensen hitches his hips up higher, keeping Jared in place, and Jared loses his balance and will stay upright, falling forward, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of Jensen’s head.

Jared keeps his eyes open and focused on Jensen’s bright green eyes. For another few long moments, he stays locked tight against Jensen just to savor the feeling.

There’s a sharp shock through his belly when Jensen rolls his hips, and Jared goes with it. He snaps his hips against Jensen’s ass, sweat making their skin smack together as he drives into Jensen over and over and over again.

“Fuck, yes, yes,” Jensen pants and grabs onto Jared’s sides, fingers constantly slipping through sweat.

His rhythm falters when he feels Jensen clenching around him, but it’s good anyway, because he feels heat flare up beneath his skin and settle low in his gut. His mind flips through the past two years of dark looks, innuendos, and random touches, and he can’t hold back any longer. He fucks Jensen hard and fast with Jensen’s hands tight around his hips, pulling him in just as fast, and then swears when Jensen comes over his own hand.

Jared rears back and pounds in hard, pulling whimpered curses from them both, and a few more times is all Jared needs until he comes buried deep inside Jensen.

His arms collapse and he drops his head beside Jensen’s. He breathes fast and hard with Jensen’s own harsh breaths in his ear. Their chests and hips are pressed tight together, damp with come and sweat, but Jared can’t drum up the energy to move just yet. He registers the warmth of Jensen beneath and around him for as long as he can before he slowly pulls out of Jensen, rolls over to his side, and gets rid of the condom in the wastebasket beside the bed.

After a long sigh, Jensen makes a soft noise as he runs his hand down his own chest. “God, I need a shower.”

“Gimme ten,” Jared mumbles.

“Minutes?”

“Hours. I can’t move.”

Jensen softly chuckles and Jared slowly smiles. Jared pushes errant hair off his damp forehead and looks up to find Jensen’s head angled towards him, eyes glazed over.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Jared murmurs.

“For 100-degree heat, not at all.”

Jared turns his face into the mattress and groans. He smiles, though, when he can smell sweat and sex and Jensen in the sheets. “You’re never gonna stop giving me shit over the AC, are you?”

“Never.”

When the mattress shifts, Jared glances up to find Jensen getting out of bed and hunting down his clothes. He’s not happy that Jensen’s leaving so soon, though he’ll admit the clear view of Jensen’s tight ass and the strong lines of his back are a great sight, muscles bulging when he uses an errant towel from Jared’s floor to clean himself off.

As Jensen tugs his boxers up his legs and over his hips, Jared shifts up with his elbow on the mattress and cheek in his hand. “What’s up?” he asks as level as possible.

Jensen slides his white, still-damp undershirt over his head and gives Jared a tired look. “Seriously? Your apartment is hot as hell.”

Jared snorts. “So why’re you putting your clothes back on?”

“Going home to my air conditioning,” he replies as he finds his pants and shakes them out. He gets them up to his waist and his eyes slowly slide up Jared’s body, meeting Jared’s gaze with a sly look. “You coming?”

He doesn’t think he rushes to get out of bed, but Jensen’s laughing, so he probably did, and it’s likely not scaring Jensen that he’s anxious to keep this up. Especially somewhere cooler.

On his way to the bathroom, Jared smacks Jensen’s ass and grins. “I will be coming as often as possible.”

Jensen barks a laugh then snatches Jared’s wrist and pulls him back in. “I’m counting on it,” he murmurs before he kisses Jared soundly.

Jared holds Jensen’s neck with his thumbs sliding over his jaw and deepens the kiss. He hums as he pulls away and stares at Jensen’s soft look. It’s the exact look he’s been dying for two years to have from Jensen.

Suddenly, he thinks about work and begins to worry how it’ll manage to happen.

The Force isn’t exactly open to working relationships, especially between partners, and Jared knows a number of guys he’s gone through the ranks with who won’t take kindly to Jared or Jensen being gay.

“Gonna have to set a few ground rules,” Jared says slowly. “For work and whatever.”

Jensen’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you seriously gonna ruin this by talking?”

Jared laughs, but still admits, “I don’t have sex while on a case.”

Taking a short step back, Jensen breaks their contact. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It seems like Jensen’s not entirely offended, just shocked in a somewhat amused way. “My brain’s sharper when I’m not worried about getting laid.”

“You are insane.”

“I’m serious.”

Jensen huffs, sort of laughing really, as he zips and buttons his slacks up. Then he shakes his head. “Alright, whatever, still insane.”

“And no one should know.” Jensen looks up at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. “I mean, we can’t go around having people know we’re doing …” Jared motions nervously between them, because he’s not sure how Jensen would react to labels, though he feels pretty sure Jensen’s not thinking this is a one-night stand for them either. “Whatever this is.”

Taking a deep breath, Jensen adjusts his stance and suddenly he seems more like Detective than someone who was utterly debauched with hot sex. “We have like a day, maybe, until we’ll get called in for another case. Can we just have a grace period where we’re not worrying about the job?”

Jared sighs and runs a hand through his hair, lightly cupping the back of his warm, damp neck. He’s suddenly extremely aware that Jensen is back to clothed and he’s still standing there completely naked while trying to have this conversation. There’s no point in fighting it right now, and Jensen is entirely too right. Their careers are tiresome and demanding, and he and Jensen are both extremely dedicated to the job. But they deserve a break once in a while to just be themselves, too.

Nonetheless, he has to admit, “If this is a one-time thing, we can’t really talk about it.” Jensen’s eyes narrow a little and his face is pinched, as if he’s affected by Jared’s words but isn’t ready to respond. Jared’s pretty sure he’s at least got this look down, and it’s kind of good news that Jensen isn’t agreeing with him on the one-time thing factor. “Just, with some boundaries, I think we can make something work.”

“Yeah, alright, I agree with that,” Jensen says slowly before tugging on Jared’s hips to bring him back in. “But we’re not talking about this. We’re gonna go back to my icebox, fuck around some more, then we’ll sort it all out.”

Jared grins and sucks a kiss into the edge of Jensen’s jaw. “I can definitely go for some more fucking around.”

Jensen leans into him, squeezing Jared’s waist, and then pushes him away. “Get dressed. We’re leaving this sauna. Now.”

“Alright,” Jared concedes with a smile.

“And I’m not coming back here until you get the air fixed.”

Now Jared can’t stop his grin. “Fine,” he nods. And then softly runs his hand across Jensen’s dick as he steps away.

“Asshole,” Jensen mutters, slapping Jared’s hand away.

Jared doesn’t give a shit what Jensen calls him. Not when they’ve got a break and time to waste together.