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Make A Good First Impression

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The first time they meet, it's not much of anything.

"Hey! Are you here for the pilot meeting?" Jensen glances up from his phone to see a tall, kind of goofy-looking kid with his hands shoved in his pockets. "For Supernatural?" he prompts uncertainly.

"Yeah, sorry, you're in the right place," Jensen says. "Jensen Ackles." He offers his hand, which the guy shakes way too enthusiastically. Jensen hopes he's not a fan-turned-actor.

"I'm Jared," the guy—Jared—drawls. He looks up and down the empty hall outside the office. "Where's everybody else?"

Jensen shrugs and goes back to checking his texts. "Dunno. I haven't seen anyone. You up for Dean or Sam?"

"Sam," Jared says. "What about you?"

Jensen suddenly remembers why the name Jared sounds familiar. "So you're the guy my agent was talking about. He said they wanted me to read for Dean instead because they liked you so much better."

"Sorry?" Jared tries. "Like, I didn't mean to, or whatever. Um. Please don't be pissed at me for snaking your part?"

People always seem to think Jensen is pissed at them, and he's not really sure why. He gives Jared a quick smile. "Nah, it's fine. Dean's a much cooler part, anyway."

Jared has just enough time to look affronted before a girl holding a clipboard comes out of the office. "Jared and Jensen? They're ready for you."


The first time they kiss, it's an accident.

It's three in the morning, and they're so tired and emotionally drained from shooting that they're having trouble staying upright and mobile. Jensen doesn't quite trip and land on Jared's lips, but it's a near thing, and he feels his mouth graze the side of Jared's face.

"Careful," Jared murmurs, catching Jensen by the shoulders and hauling him back up. "You'll never be a WB teen idol if you bust your pretty face on the concrete."

Jensen groans. "Fuck this schedule in the ass, man. Why did I leave Smallville? I could be home asleep right now."

"On Smallville, you were in a love triangle involving Tom Welling," Jared points out. "And then you went evil and died. I don't know, Jen. I think you might actually be better off now."

Jensen decides not to point out that Jared just admitted to watching Smallville. They're both so exhausted that he doubts they'll remember any of this, and he's definitely guilty of catching a few episodes of Gilmore Girls for research purposes. Instead, he says, "You called me Jen."

"Is that okay?" Jared asks, strangely earnest. "It just kinda slipped out." He yawns widely, which, for some reason, requires him to stretch his arms above his head. Jensen doesn't realize how much Jared was holding him up until he stumbles on the sidewalk.

When Jared catches him this time, they're facing, and there's an odd moment of closeness. "It's cool," Jensen says. Jared gives him a quizzical look. "No one's ever called me that before, so I guess I was surprised."

Jared lets him go, brushing his fingers along the side of Jensen's neck. "Okay, Jen." Then he leans in and kisses Jensen, just a brush of lips on lips. "Sorry. Tired. Don't know why I did that." He pulls away, his hands flailing as he talks.

"It's cool," Jensen repeats, and he leans in again.


The first time they fuck, it's a disaster.

They went out to dinner that night, just them. Jared was sending all the right signals, and Jensen felt good from the wine and warmth and good company, and he just thought—why not?

He hasn't spent a lot of time thinking about what it might be like with Jared, but while he never thought they'd just fit together effortlessly, he thought they'd at least be compatible. Apparently, he was wrong.

"Ow," Jensen grumbles as he lands face first on the bed, his good jeans still tangled around his legs.

They're at Jared's hotel, the dogs safely shut in the living room of Jared's suite, and Jared takes advantage of Jensen sprawled across his bed. He practically covers Jensen, nipping and kissing at Jensen's skin as he undresses him the rest of the way, and it's really nice until—

"Fuck, not so hard." Jensen pulls slightly away from Jared's sharp teeth. "You're gonna make me bruise."

"Sorry, man," Jared murmurs. He kisses Jensen's neck, and Jensen relaxes a little. He flips over when Jared pulls away to undress himself, watching him reveal smooth, lean muscle. Jared's cock is huge, and Jensen gets a little nervous about being able to take the whole thing.

Then Jared starts fumbling in his nightstand for the lube and condoms. It takes him a couple of minutes, but his grin of triumph is almost worth it. "Found 'em!" he declares, brandishing the condom like it's a sword. Jensen can't help it; he has to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Jared demands, moving to crouch over him.

"Nothing. You," Jensen admits. "You're cute when you're horny and determined." Jared looks like he can't decide whether that's a good thing, so Jensen pulls him down and kisses him, hitching his legs up around Jared's waist to try and get them both back in the mood.

After a minute, Jared uncaps the lube and starts working his fingers into Jensen's ass. He uses way too much, though, and Jensen feels uncomfortably slick. There's lube all over his thighs, the sheets, and even some in Jared's hair from where he forgot and brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

And then, when Jared moves to put the condom on, he manages to slip and fall off the bed. Probably because he spilled lube all over the place.

"Fuck, my head," Jared moans.

Jensen leans over the side of the bed. "Normally, I'd offer to blow you right now, but at the rate we're going, that would probably fall under high-risk activities." He offers Jared a hand up.

They try again in a few days. It gets better.