Jared had no idea how he'd gotten himself into this mess.
What did he really know, anyway? He was little more than a glorified payroll officer in a sea of hundreds of other more qualified workers. And it just so happened that said workers created software for banks and credit card companies, just as it was a complete fluke that Jared had been asked to oversee the CEO's personal books while his usual secretary-PA-whatever was on maternity leave. He could even imagine one of the higher-ups pointing their finger and going 'eenie meenie miney mo' and landing on his unfortunate ass, and then suddenly there he was on the second highest floor of a bajillion-storey building, sweating through his cheap business suit as he tried to keep up with the Boss's demands.
You would think a company all about providing money-managing programs would be better at employing people who knew how to manage money. Jared, however, for all his whizz-kid accounting abilities, lived in a shitty apartment, wore shitty clothes, and instead spent a good lot of his income on food and video games. But then, his lifestyle choices had never really bothered him until he'd found himself suddenly singled out and working in an office literally twenty paces from the goddamn Boss.
It had all been so innocent at first. Jared's bad luck was a chronic issue, to be sure, but it had never done him over to the point where he legitimately feared for his life. Adding up a few numbers for Jeff Morgan was nerve-wracking to the point of annoyance, but it wasn't as if his blood would be spilled over it. At least, that's what he'd thought before.
Until he'd gone and accidentally clicked the wrong thing one day. Seen things he shouldn't have. Accounts that shouldn't exist, eight-digit sums that shouldn't exist.
Maybe he'd have been better off keeping his mouth shut, leaving it well alone, but Jared had never been good at doing the wrong thing. His sister maintained that he had some sort of superhero complex, but Jared preferred to think of it as not letting bad people do bad things without being held accountable. It wasn't fair to the rest of them who were just trying to get by.
So what had he done? He'd gone to the fucking FBI, that's what.
They'd made him talk until his throat felt like sandpaper, but more importantly, they'd believed him. They had him carry on with his life as normal, except that he'd had to take photos for them with his phone, make copies of files onto a USB drive, make notes about who Mr Morgan made contact with, and then check-in with Special Agent Beaver each night on the phone. He could almost think he'd fallen into the middle of a corporate espionage action movie, except much longer and more boring than any he'd ever seen, and he'd seen more than his fair share.
So his (somewhat hijacked) life went on. Work, FBI crap, takeout food, the occasion push-up when he could be bothered, and weekends spent in front of his Playstation continued as normal. Until he suddenly got a call from Agent Beaver informing him that things were on a downward slide and Jared's safety was a potential risk. He was supposed to be going to Morgan's own place the next night for a Christmas celebration, complete with wires in his watch and under his clothes, but apparently a small team in a surveillance van down the block weren't going to be enough to ensure his protection.
Which is how he ended up taking a 'plus one' to a party for possibly the first time in his adult life.
Jared was in the only decent suit he owned (besides the tux he'd gotten for his brother's wedding) but he still looked like awkward, overgrown trash compared to the agent that had been tasked with being his arm candy for the night. Both of them were wired up, but Agent Ackles had the addition of an earpiece and some sort of camera hidden in the knot of his tie. Agent Beaver had given Jared the rundown of what was going to happen the day before, as well as asking him specifically what his preferences were – the man had grumbled at length about a previous job that had gotten them into trouble because they'd assumed their civilian plant was straight. Even so, Jared hadn't been expecting much. So when Ackles had arrived at his door, suited up, shoes polished, green eyes staring into his soul… Jared's voice relegated itself to a series of grunting and wheezing noises.
There was just no way anyone from his work would believe a total dork like Jared could score with the grossly perfect vision that was Jensen.
Still, the guy had brusquely pushed his way into Jared's apartment, hadn't mentioned the mess, assembled the wires without any fuss, and even fixed Jared's skewed clothes before it was time to leave. They'd worked out a story about Jensen being a budding actor (which was stupidly believable, as far as Jared was concerned) and how they'd bonded over a love of movies, and then suddenly there were walking into Jeff Morgan's lush penthouse apartment arm-in-arm.
Jared made introductions when needed, but let Jensen do most of the talking, which he was clearly adept at. Morgan barely acknowledged them, but Jared figured it was for the best if they could go about their business unnoticed. He still kept his eyes on the boss all the same, noting who he was talking to and how often he moved about the room, leaning in towards Jensen as he made his reports via the wire link. The only problem being that each time he did so he would catch a whiff of Jensen's cologne and would have to physically stop himself from getting any closer to the curve Jensen's neck.
As the night wore on and the alcohol loosened a few inhibitions, Jensen dragged him off elsewhere in the apartment, pulling them both into what looked like Morgan's home office. Jensen dug around in the computer while Jared kept watch, and it was just as Jensen acquired what they needed that Jared heard someone coming their way. He whispered the urgency and then Jensen was pushing him against the bookshelf in a hurry, shelves poking him in the spine and the back of his thighs.
He tried desperately not to let Jensen's proximity get the better of his body, but the more seconds that passed, the harder he failed. Then Jensen opened his mouth.
"Put your hands on me."
And his ability for rational thought pulled a Trekkie and teleported the fuck outta there.
Jensen had no idea how he'd gotten himself into this mess.
He was a goal-oriented agent slowly climbing his way up the FBI ranks and eager to impress his superiors. People judged him for the way he looked, and still occasionally for his sexuality, but he knew how to use it to his advantage when he had to – all he really wanted to do was get the job done. So he'd jumped at the chance when SSA Beaver offered him an undercover role, however brief the job might be. The operation against Morgan seemed straightforward enough, and Jensen had a practically spotless background record for good reason, so he knew he was more than capable of closing the deal. But then Beaver had taken him aside to offer him a warning – he'd be meeting Padalecki the next day, sorting out their story as a 'couple', but apparently Jensen would 'need to keep his head on straight'. Beaver had winked at him before walking away.
He hadn't known what to make of the warning until he'd finally arrived at Jared's front door. Then suddenly it had all made sense.
Jared was a slob – that much was obvious – but, fuck, Jensen had never in his life set eyes on such a fucking gorgeous slob before. He was tall, fox-eyed, and seriously built. Moreso than a numbers geek with a desk job had any right to be. But what really reeled him in was Jared's awkward shyness. It was all so adorable it made Jensen want to puke rainbows.
Had Jensen not had the skills to put his game-face on in even the most difficult of situations, the two of them probably would still have been standing on Jared's front stoop hours after the fact. Thankfully he'd been able to get them both inside, get Jared wired up without cutting himself on his abs, then get them both to Morgan's all in good time. He'd even hashed out a whole backstory of coupledom with Jared, which had turned out to be almost wholly unnecessary thanks to all the self-involved snobs at the party, but Jensen decided he secretly enjoyed the little tale they'd come up with (maybe even a little too much) and filed it away for later.
As if all that wasn't enough, then Jared had started doing this thing every time he leant down to say something. Jensen decided that Jared was subtly trying to sniff him, except that it was almost ridiculously obvious. If it wouldn't have been inappropriate, he might have chanced pulling Jared down on top of him in the hope that he would sniff him fucking properly already.
"Cleared and ready to receive."
Eventually he got the go-ahead through his earpiece, which shocked him out of the moment entirely, and suddenly he was thinking like an agent again. He waited until no one was looking and then dragged Jared down the hallway to where the blueprints had suggested Morgan's office to be. And they were right. He appointed Jared as lookout, then stuck the pen drive into Morgan's computer and waited. The search program commenced, and their hacking expert sitting in a van somewhere down the block was able to take control. He watched as the files and images flashed over the screen, heading offsite and into an FBI server somewhere. Really, Morgan should have been more careful.
"Files received. Thank you, agent."
Jared's warning got him moving again. He pulled the drive out and slipped it into his jacket, then initiated what he considered to be the perfect excuse for their presence in Morgan's office. Perhaps it was a slightly selfish excuse – only slightly – but it was also the most effective.
"Put your hands on me," he ordered as he pushed Jared back against the bookshelf.
Hands curled tentatively around his waist, and he figured it would have to do. Jensen pulled their mouths together at the same moment he heard a nearby footstep in the hallway, and he squeezed Jared's shoulders as he attempted to coax him into reciprocating Jensen's kiss. It took a few moments, but eventually Jared seemed to surmount his surprise or fear or whatever it was, and finally there was some suction, the tip of a tongue licking at the seam of his lips.
Jensen moaned as Jared got with the program. His hands started to wander underneath Jensen's suit jacket, fingertips pulling at his shirt and digging into his back all at once. Their bodies were the closest they'd been yet, friction building where their hips pressed together, the hard line of Jared's cock nudging against the zipper of his pants. Jensen wanted to get his hand or (better yet) his mouth on that thing so goddamn bad – because if his clothed hip was any judge, Jared was definitely packing – but in a mark's house with audio wires taped under their shirts, putting themselves at risk in such a way was an absolute no-no.
"Christ, Jared, just—"
Something rattled the doorknob, and at the last second it occurred to Jensen that his ear with the comm unit tucked inside it was facing the door. It wasn't immediately visible, but if someone was looking for it they would likely spot it, so in one smooth move he swivelled the two of them around, putting his own back against the bookcase and pulling Jared over him. He sensed the door starting to open, but Jensen quickly got the feeling that Jared was too far gone to even notice what was going on around him anymore. Somewhere in the process of their change of position, Jared had assumed control, and so Jensen found himself at the mercy of Jared's will.
With a mouth full of tongue, fingers digging into his ass cheek, and his too-clothed cock getting a very pleasurable rub-down, Jensen failed to get a visual on whoever had walked in on them. Still, against everything he otherwise believed in, he found himself unable to give a shit. Jared had untucked his shirt and was running one of his over-large hands all over Jensen's back, and that one bit of skin-on-skin was drawing sounds from his throat that he really should have been embarrassed about. Their hips had a back-and-forth rhythm going that very nearly had him coming in his pants, and Jensen's clothes were beginning to cling to him with sweat (a feeling he generally loathed) but he couldn't bring himself to complain when he was just so fucking close.
He could smell the sweat on Jared, too. That humid, masculine scent that clung to his skin, and Jensen buried his nose against Jared's neck just to breathe it in. Things were getting desperate. He could feel his balls pulling tight, that edge drawing near, and Jared tumbled over it only moments before Jensen followed. His cock throbbed in the confines of his trousers, hot and damp and hating that it had been kept cooped up through the whole ordeal. Indeed Jensen regretted the missed opportunity to hold Jared's own sizable cock against him and have his come all over his skin, the smell of them intermingling… Yet something about having to hold back from such blatancy, keeping it all hidden beneath their clothes, had him tingling with arousal all over again.
Jared's breath was heavy as it landed on his collar in loud puffs.
Then a cough sounded directly into his ear and Jensen damn near jumped out of his skin.
"You, um… You're clear to withdraw from the premises, agent…"
Jensen pulled out the earpiece and stuffed it in his pocket with a hiss, noting that Jared was still too clouded with contentment to realise that the surveillance team had been listening to the whole thing. He grabbed his 'boyfriend's' hand and dragged him toward the door, coming to an abrupt stop when he found Morgan in the hallway. Jensen's heart leapt in his chest as he prepared himself for the worst, but the man only gave a sly grin and walked away, back toward the party. Amusing considering that once they prepared their new evidence, Morgan wouldn't be smiling much for a very long time.
Jared woke feeling disorientated, though he wasn't sure why since he didn't have a hangover and he was in his own bed.
He got to his feet, scratching his threatening beard, and saw the suit hanging over the back of his desk chair. Then it all came rushing back. And, fuck, he could feel the dried come pulling at his short-n-curlies.
Pulling open the bedroom door Jared came to a sudden standstill. As if the morning couldn't get any more weird, he found the lounge room cleaner than he'd seen it in months, all his things put away neatly, and there was a heavenly bacon smell coming from the kitchen. Did he even have any bacon in the house?
"Stop thinking so hard."
Jared gaped as Jensen appeared before him, the agent's eyes giving him a thorough look up and down. Then he licked his lips.
"Are you always this happy in the morning, or is that especially for me?"
Looking down, Jared saw the slowly thickening semi poking out from beneath his pyjama pants, and it jumped at the chance to be the centre of attention. Then Jared looked back up at Jensen's hungering eyes, and his brain functions shut down.
"I… um… you…?"
"Like I said, stop thinking so hard. I've got just the thing you need, so sit back and let me take care of that little problem of yours, okay?"
Jared felt the half-hearted protest die in his mouth as Jensen took his hand and led him to the (now very clean) couch, sat him down, and immediately situated himself between Jared's spread legs.
"I was dreaming of this all goddamn night last night. Hope you haven't got plans because I'm going to totally ruin you, Jay."
Wiping his eyes of sleep, Jared had no idea how he'd gotten himself into this mess.
But he was going to fucking enjoy it while it lasted.