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You Knock Me Off My Feet

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 Jensen's always almost in a hurry. It's part of the parcel that comes with being an in-demand business consultant. There's always clients to please and money to be made. There's always phone calls, emails and occasionally, letters. It's a constant merry-go-round but Jensen doesn't have the time to dwell on it.  

Not when there are new clients to be made, new opportunities to take advantage of.  

On this particular day, he's running late and not really paying attention to anything that's happening. He's too busy trying to reply to his emails (all thirty of them, all marked with URGENT!) and texts. He can hear the distant sound of traffic but it's secondary to him. Cars will stop, cyclists probably won't but screw them anyway, they can fucking wait.  

Of course, just as he's thinking that, a huge force barrels into him and sends him flying. He lands on his ass and lets out an inelegant yelp. Pain shoots up it's arm but it disappears before he can even dwell on it. There's a distinct sound of a bell ringing and he looks up to see a bicycle collapsed onto the floor. He then looks a little to the left and notices that his phone is beside said bicycle. He practically scrambles towards it and almost screams when he sees that the screen is cracked.  

Calm down, he tells himself, it's fixable. Just as long as the phone is working it's still usable.  

He taps at the screen but there's no response. Just a cracked black display staring back at him.  

"No, no, no, no," he cries. He shakes it pointlessly but the sinking feeling is already settling in his gut. He's not going to finish the evaluation that he's supposed to and he's definitely not going to reply to all of those urgent emails.  

He's so busy worrying about his career going up in flames that he doesn't even remember that he knocked into someone until he hears a pained grunt.  

"Are you done crying over your phone yet?" The deep voice sounds angry and Jensen looks over to see that there's a man lying next to the collapsed bicycle. While he's not proud of his actions, he needs someone to blame for his smashed phone and this guy seems like the appropriate target.  

"No, I'm not," he snaps furiously. "Thanks to you, I'm not going to be able to call ahead and tell my clients that I won't be available for our meeting." 

The guy, who is actually kind of cute in a 'I-wish-you-hadn't-knocked-me-over' kind of way, simply rolls his eyes and says, "Thanks to you, I have a broken wrist." 

"What?" Jensen says, with his eyes widening in shock. "Are you serious? Well do you need to go to a hospital or something?" 

Jensen isn't completely heartless. 

"That's standard procedure when you think you might have a broken bone," the guys replies in a deeply unimpressed tone. And fair enough, he's in pain and Jensen did sort of cause their collision, but still. He's not come out of this unscathed too. His phone is broken! However, this guy needs medical attention and Jensen is good at solving problems. They are well and truly in his domain now and he's totally got this.  

"Okay, so, how do we get you to a hospital?" he asks. Ideally, he'd use his phone to call a cab and look up the proximity of the nearest hospital but his domain is now lacking a vital ingredient.  

Jensen's not surprised when the guy merely stares at him like he thinks Jensen is the biggest idiot on the planet.  

The guy looks away and mutters, "I think we might want to get out of the middle of the street first." 

Only then does the sound of the street filter back into Jensen's ears. There are angry horns blaring and the sound of loud chatter above them. There's even an asshole filming everyone on his cell phone like this is the most interesting part of his day.  

"Uh, sure," he says hurriedly. "I'll help you up and then call – or hail - you a cab. Unless you need an ambulance?" With the way the traffic is, there's almost no point in calling for one. Hell a cab will probably be useless, but it's not like the guy is about to cycle to the hospital.  

 
"You know what, it's like, a five minute walk from here," the guy says. He cradles his left wrist with his right hand and eases himself up slowly. His longish brown hair falls in his eyes as he moves and Jensen finds himself wanting to brush it away. And that's ridiculous because he's not the kind of person that crushes on other guys. He doesn't have time for that. Still, in any other circumstance, he wouldn't exactly turn this guy down. He sighs to himself and puts this down as yet another missed opportunity.  

 
"I'll come with you," he says after he stands himself. He doesn't even wait for the guy to reply before he's pulling the bicycle out of the street, pausing only to flip the bird at an irate taxi driver who calls out a few choice words when he's finally out of the way.  

The guy shakes his head frantically. "It's fine. I'm sure you have somewhere more important to be. If you can't look where you're going, I doubt you have the time to walk me to the hospital." 

Jensen can't help frowning. "Are you always this rude or is this some kind of side effect of the pain?" 

The guy stares at him incredulously before muttering something under his breath.  

"What was that?" Jensen asks loudly. He knows that he's being a dick but it's an unfortunate side effect of a. missing his meeting and b. being somewhat attracted to this guy. 

"I said that you're lucky that you're pretty," the guys says. "And that I can't punch you in the face." 

Jensen rears his head back. "Dude, I'm hot not pretty. There's a difference." 

"You're also mind-blowingly arrogant but to you, that's probably a compliment." 

Jensen's never been one for witty comebacks so he stands there and does his best fish impression. Eventually the guy takes pity on him and begins to walk away quickly. Considering that the guy's in pain, Jensen hurries after him. He's heard stories aboutpeople being knocked over and then dying the next day and he doesn't want that on his conscience.  

"Hey, man, wait up," he calls. The guy doesn't respond but he does slow down. "Let me take a look at your wrist."  

Jensen doesn't know the first thing about first aid but still, he's not a complete asshole.  

"Look, you walked into me, spent more time being concerned over your phone and you've been a dick for the entire five minutes that I've known you," the guys says. "How about you just go and attend to your urgent business?"  

Jensen can see the way that the guy's face is pale, and the way the lines around his eyes are tight and he forces himself not to make another rude comment. The best thing he can do is distract the guy from his pain somehow.  

"You forgot the part about me being pretty," he jokes. He watches the guy closely because truth be told, Jensen doesn't have the best humor. His best man's speech at his brother's wedding went down like a lead balloon. Even his grandfather interrupted fifteen minutes in to tell him to 'shut the fuck up' and get to the part where he says nice things.  

However, the guy actually shakes his head and laughs. It's not a full on belly laugh but Jensen takes it as a win nonetheless. And then he realizes that the guys hand is a sickening shade of red and he swears out loud.  

"I'm really sorry for not looking where I was going," he apologizes, grimacing sympathetically at the sight of the rapidly swelling wrist. "Are you sure you don't want me to call you a cab?" 

The guy smiles at him a little. "It's okay. I was going too fast. Again. It was probably about time I knocked into a guy that loves his cell phone a little more than he does humanity. I've learned my lesson. And I have a friend who works in the ER, so, I can walk. It's not too far from here." 

Jensen nods and then because his brain appears to have left the station and reached Stupidville early he says, "You're pretty too, by the way." 

The guy snorts at him and Jensen silently starts to question the smooth Casanova impression that he's always had of himself.  It's clear that he's just an idiot who babbles unless he's in a high-stakes business meeting.  

The guy's response is quick: "I guess that makes us Pretty Squared."  

Jensen chuckles but he doesn't respond for fear of saying something entirely stupid. He hums under his breath and tries to keep an eye on the guy as the walk at a moderate pace.  He's watching so attentively that he's there to catch the guy when he stumbles and almost topples over.  

"My hero," the guy murmurs, and even with the pale, clammy skin, Jensen swears that he can see a mocking twinkle in the guy's eyes.  

"I think you need to see a doctor right away," Jensen says in lieu of a response.  

Jensen manages to get the guy to the hospital within a few minutes and he watches as they direct the guy to the waiting area.  He contemplates leaving but decides to join the guy when he glances at his watch and sees that it's 15:35. His meeting was at three, so that's fucked now. He contemplates asking the guy for his phone but he doesn't want to seem rude. Or, well, ruder than he has already.  

"You can go you know," the guys says rather defensively. "Chad's going to come and grab me in a minute."  

"I'll wait if that's okay," Jensen tells him. "We're Team Pretty Squared after all."  

And so help him God, he actually curves his hands together to make a heart-shape.  

The guy just cracks up and Jensen's stuck there as all eyes gravitate towards them. He moves to wipe a hand across his face when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and dammit, he can't afford to be injured right now. He tells himself that he'll get it checked later but the guy has the nerve to poke said shoulder.  

"Hey, are you, okay?" he asks, and hell, he even looks as concerned as he sounds.  

Jensen shrugs, recoils from the resulting pain and then winces when it slowly begins to subside. "I'm fine, I guess I just banged it up when we collided." 

The guy doesn't look convinced and Jensen's suspicions are confirmed when a doctor with bright blonde hair and squinty eyes appears in the waiting room. He beckons toward the guy who stands and then yanks Jensen up with his uninjured hand. Jensen protests all the way to the emergency room and doesn't stop until Jared hops onto the bed and the doctor whistles and says,  

"Who's this, Jared? New boyfriend?"  

Jensen practically coughs up a lung.  

The guy – Jared – shakes his head and says, "No, this is the asshole who knocked me over. But I've decided that I kind of like him, so when you're done with my arm, I need you to look over his shoulder." 

Now, Jensen gets that guy is trying to be nice and all but he doesn't need a damn pity referral.  

"Uh, no offence, man, but I really don't need to be looking over the douche that pushed my friend off his bike." 

The doctor squints angrily and Jensen decides that he doesn't like him.  

"You know what, my shoulder really does hurt," Jensen says sweetly. "And I'd hate for the hospital board to hear that you refused to treat me." 

"Chad," Jared says, and Jensen gets the sense that Jared's the only thing coming between him and a potential ass-kicking courtesy of the good doctor.  

Chad grunts angrily but he doesn't say anything.  

For the next hour, Jensen watches as on as Jared goes for scans and gets his wrist dressed up with clean, white bandages.  

"It's just a sprain," he confirms excitedly when Jensen asks about it. His grin is so enthusiastic and infectious that Jensen's still got a huge smile on his face when Chad's sourpuss ass comes over and demands to take a look at his shoulder before he finds something better to do.  

When Jensen manages to peel off his jacket and  perfectly fitted, blue Armani shirt, there's a nasty bruise on it, with the skin a purpley-red. He grimaces when he sees it and knows that it'll sting like a bitch during his tennis match the next day.  

Chad and Jared both burst out laughing when Jensen grumbles that under his breath and he pouts angrily until they stop.  

"You were right, man," Chad says. "He is ridiculous."  

The fact that they've spoken behind his back doesn't bother him. It was obvious when Chad wheeled Jared back into the side room after he took him to get his X-Rays. He's used to be talking about him and hey, his Momma always said that you weren't doing it right if no one was talking about it.  

Of course, he's never really understood the phrase but whatever, it's definitely applicable here.  

"Jensen's a weird name," Jared says randomly when Jensen's getting dressed. Jensen all but busted Jared checking him out when he was shirtless but the other man doesn't even seem fazed. If anything he's more amused than a guy with a sprained wrist ought to be. "Are you Danish?" 

Jensen pauses midway through straightening his shirt. "Do I look Danish to you?" 

"Well, you don't not look Danish?" Jared says, along with the lazy grin he seems to wear whenever he's being a smartass. Jensen can tell that he's trying to rile him up; he's been here before. There's always that one easy-breezy dick who wants to knock down the uptight businessman a peg or two. Jensen now considers himself to be immune to it.  

Mostly.  

"Look, now that you're okay and I'm mostly okay, I'm gonna go," Jensen announces. "I have to call this person to reschedule our meeting." 

The person in question is a young entrepreneur whose small bed-and-breakfast isn't breaking even. It's not his usual kind of gig but Jensen's hoping to score a better deal with the kid's uncle, who owns a successful chain of restaurants. He's probably going to have to do a lot of ass-licking if he doesn't reschedule today's meeting.  

"You don't have to call anyone," Jared says. "We can have our meeting here. Or over dinner tonight?" 

Jensen is momentarily confused because Jared just asked him out but... he said 'our meeting'. He stares down at Jared's frayed t-shirt, tan board shorts and beat up Vans and tries hard not to judge. He really does.  

"Don't worry, I would have changed before the meeting," Jared says before Jensen can even make sense of anything. "My uncle Derek warned me about you." 

Jensen's torn between telling Jared to fuck off and enquiring about what Derek said.  

He chooses neither.  

"So, you're just asking me for a business dinner and not dinner dinner?" Jensen ignores the fact that his mouth appears to be set to teenage girl mode.  

This is a serious question.  

"We'll see," is all Jared says, along with that smug smirk that Jensen's starting to not-hate. Although, he's sure that it'll get old really fast. 

"How did you know who I was?" he asks because this seems like an odd coincidence and seriously, if they do go onto become boyfriends (or at least have smoking hot sex), he's going to have to rewrite their 'How We Met' story so that it isn't a meet-cute.  

He has a reputation to uphold.  

Jared laughs softly. "I figured that the Jensen I crashed into was probably the same Jensen Ackles that I was supposed to meet. Unless you happen to have a twin who has the exact same name as you?" 

"No, no twin," Jensen says quickly, as if Jared will suddenly discover a twin and want to maybe date him instead. "Just me." 

"Well then, I look forward to getting to know you during dinner," Jared says. "Meet me at the B&B at seven pm." He looks kind of hopeful, and Jensen finally sees the façade for what it is. He might be a complete idiot in general, but Jensen's always been good at reading people.  

"I'd like that," he replies. "Although, I don't have the address – everything was on my phone." 

He lets out a whimper because he's missed at least three hours worth of emails, calls, texts and a million Snapchat stories that he won't view.  

And then he stops because not being glued to his phone has actually been nice. Even though most of that time has been spent under the glare of Jared's teasing eyes, actually talking to someone else about non-work related matters has been kind of fun.  

Still.  

"I'm gonna go and get my phone replaced," he tells Jared, because fun and human interaction aside, his mortgage isn't going to pay itself and his designer clothes won't buy themselves. "But maybe I could take your number?" 

Jared shakes his head but he shuffles around on the hospital bed and uses his uninjured hand to wriggle around in his shorts pocket.  He looks absolutely ridiculous and it's a near-miracle that he doesn't topple off the bed.  Finally, he pulls out a business card and hands it over to Jensen.  

"So...I'll see you at seven?" Jared says, like he's hesitant that Jensen will actually turn up.  

Jensen brushes his thumb against the card and can't help smiling a little. "Yes. You will." 

Before he leaves, he leans over and presses a chaste kiss to Jared's forehead. He then ruins what could have been a sweet moment by running out of the room because he kissed a forehead. The only person he's seen do that is his grandma and well, she's old.  

Later when he's got his new phone set up and he's packing the box away, he saves Jared's number before he even starts restoring his back up. He tells himself that he's just double checking that Jared doesn't think he's completely pathetic but his face practically splits in two because of the huge grin on it.  

Hope we're still on for tonight, he texts.  

He waits for a few seconds, even glancing at his watch because he's one of those people that needs a reply instantly.  

You're lucky that I hurt my left hand, Jared writes back. Before sending another that says, Yes.  

Jensen finds himself resting his head on his hand and sighing dreamily but he doesn't even focus on it. He's only human – he's allowed one girly moment.  

His phone buzzes again. Try not to knock over anyone on your way over. There's only room for two people in Pretty Squared. 

The message catches Jensen by surprise and he guffaws loudly, shaking so hard that his shoulder twinges and he almost drops the phone. He texts back with something stupid, some silly retort that Jared will probably mock him for later.  

It takes Jared a while to respond, but for once, Jensen doesn't mind waiting. He has a feeling that today marks the day that his life will change forever.