Luck, Don’t Fail Me Now

Categories:  Sundownverse, CW RPS

Pairing: Jensen/Jared, implied Jensen/other
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, prostitution, language, some schmoop
Word Count: 5500

The shadowed figure at the end of the hall is heading Jared’s way and there’s not an empty room on either side he can duck into. His lips tighten into an unhappy line and his fists clench. Then, Jared makes a conscious effort to relax his fingers, wiggling them a bit at his side. He wonders if he will be able to smell Jensen on the man as they pass.

Deep breath and he continues his side trip to the kitchen for a piece of Philomenè’s incredible apple pie. After having three produce deliveries hijacked before reaching the gates of the Compound, a truckload of apples and pears finally arrived late last night and the whole house has smelled like an orchard since early this morning.

Jared wonders where Jensen is now that he’s obviously “off shift,” which sounds better than “done whoring my ass for the night.” He’s about to pass the client who’s been Jensen’s sole customer for the last ten days, barring time off.

“Jared.” As he passes, the client—and that’s how Jared has to think of him now—nods his head at Jared. The lazy, low-pitched voice makes his hands involuntarily ball back into fists. The voice of the person now getting as much of Jensen as Jared does. Sometimes more.

Jared knows he’s not being fair, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to shove the client up against the dark paneled walls and growl a warning for him to stay away from Jensen. He has no idea what sort of game this is, but Jared’s as pissed at himself as he is at anything or anyone else. He thought he knew this man. Had once called him friend, even. Jared’s momma would have said he was “good people.”

So, instead of giving in to the desire to do violence, Jared ignores the pseudo-greeting and just keeps walking without sparing the client a sidelong glance. He doesn’t trust himself to be civil and it’s his ass in Claudia’s office if he punches out one of La Hacienda’s guests.

By the time Jared enters the kitchen, he’s lost his appetite. He feels nothing but a sick twist in his gut when he looks at the blackboard that lists the next evening’s guests and sees a familiar name scrawled in chalk — again.


Jared surveys his handiwork. Oh yeah, Jensen’s gonna be pissed. Well, that makes two of them.

Part of him wants to just leave the overturned chair, busted mirror and shattered lamp where they lay. Let Jensen see the visible signs of his rage. Jared didn’t realize how much it was eating at him, seething and ready to explode. After having to deal with seeing Jensen’s client on the way out yesterday, the capper was Jensen being called unexpectedly to have dinner with the man. At that, Jared couldn’t contain it any longer and it’d all come spewing out like putrefaction from a festering wound.

But, the rational part — the part he hates listening to — knows he’s being childish, selfish and unreasonable. Jensen shouldn’t be punished because Jared’s jealous. Another unfamiliar emotion. Of course, he’d never had to share his lovers with other people, either.

So, he tilts the chair back to an upright position and drags the garbage can from the bathroom and starts filling it with broken glass, mirror shards and porcelain. A thought occurs to him; Great. Claudia will probably take it out of our pay credits.

The sitting room door opens. He wasn’t expected Jensen back so soon.

“Hey! Guess what, I’m off…” Jensen’s cheery voice comes to a halt and Jared sets the plastic can down and turns in time to see the welcoming smile slide from Jensen’s face, replaced by a creased brow of confusion.

“Jared? Something you wanna tell me?”

Jared feels heat creeping up his face. He looks down, toeing at a shard of silver mirror stuck point down into the carpet. “Um. Not really,” he mumbles.

“What? I didn’t catch that?” Jensen doesn’t sound angry, exactly, but his voice has an edge that just cuts deeper into Jared’s guilt.

Jensen reaches down and picks up a piece from the mirror’s wooden frame and lays it carefully on the sofa in quiet commentary. Jared rakes a hand through his hair and sighs audibly.

“I was sort of pissed.”

Jensen snorts at that, but doesn’t look very amused. “Looks more like you had a tantrum.” He walks to the sofa, removes the piece of splintered frame and sits, patting the space beside him. “Come ‘ere.”

Jared sits gingerly next to Jensen and thinks the next seven year’s bad luck he just bought them can’t be too much worse than what they’ve got right now.

He keeps his hands clasped between his legs, trying to calm the pounding in his heart. Between that and his churning stomach, Jared just wants to go curl up on their bed. He settles for turning his body slightly away from Jensen.

“Is he gone?”

Jensen’s silent at first and Jared’s afraid Jensen didn’t hear him and he’ll have to repeat the question. But, after a long moment, Jensen leans toward him, wraps an arm tightly around Jared’s shoulder, and pulls Jared into his space.

“Yeah. He’s gone, Jay. I’m off the rest of the night.” Jared hears the worry, the regret, in Jensen’s voice and knows he’s been and is being a totally irrational ass. But that hadn’t stopped his swinging arm earlier and it doesn’t stop his mouth now.

“Till tomorrow night?” Jared sneers, then bites his lip. He squirms on the couch because the fire in his belly isn’t burnt out yet.

“Look, I know it’s crazy and I have no right whatsoever to get all twisted up, but fuck it, Jen, I hate knowing he’s down there … touching you, kissing you…” Jared scrubs his face and then through his hair, unable to complete the sentence. Say the other things Jensen does with his new regular client.

Unable to hold still any longer, Jared stands. “I think I hate the idea of you with him more than I do with total strangers.”

Jensen’s quiet, calm, like he’s waiting for this latest storm to run its course. And maybe he is. Jared feels the anger bleeding away, but continues to hang on to the last thread of self-righteous pain.

“God, I can’t get the picture of the two of you together out of my head. I know it’s fucked up and I know — I know you love me –” Jared’s pacing takes him to the window on the far side of the room. He looks down and watches Gina play with the puppies—Yin and Yang–on the lawn below. The little shits are so damned ugly they’re cute and the sight soothes Jared enough that he can walk back and sit across from Jensen on the last remaining whole chair.

Jensen’s still looking at him with that same quiet, waiting patience. He knows as well as Jared does that Jared will eventually settle down so they can really discuss things.

Yeah, Jared thinks, he knows me that well. Right now, that thought isn’t as satisfying as usual.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Jensen just nods. They’ve been over this a thousand times since last week. Jensen tells him—begs him to believe—it’s just business. He’s tried to spin it, tell Jared they’re actually pretty damn lucky Jensen caught his new patron’s attention like he has. As long as Jensen stays in his client’s good graces as he has, he doesn’t have to fuck or be fucked by anyone else; the client’s been paying for exclusivity. Jared doesn’t know why that doesn’t bring him more comfort. Why nothing does.

Jared shrugs and leans down to pick up the last of the glass. There’s nothing he can do about how he feels and there sure as hell isn’t anything he can do about Jensen’s situation. He’ll suck it up, the way he’s had to with every other change in their circumstances. It’s better than not having Jensen at all.

Jensen’s hand touches him in the small of his back, small circles, warm, inquiring. Jared straightens and takes a deep breath before he finally turns into Jensen’s arms and nods. “I know.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. It’s my fault we’re here. My stupid immune system.” The bitterness in his voice burns his throat but Jared can’t call it back.

“Hey.” Jensen holds Jared’s chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. “I call bullshit. I choose to be here and you or no one else is forcing me to stay.

Lemme grab a shower and we’re going to bed. I have something to show you.” Jensen does his best leer—which is really kind of hilarious–and Jared can’t help but laugh. He kicks the trashcan out of the way and follows Jensen into the bathroom. Maybe he’d like his back scrubbed.


He knows they’ve overslept as soon as he opens his eyes.

Jared always tries to wake Jensen himself rather than waiting for the inevitable, spiteful pound at their door as Michelle passes on her way downstairs. There’s no doubt in Jared’s mind that she totally gets off on pissing in Jensen’s corn flakes at every opportunity. Really, her and Michael? The perfect pair, as far as he’s concerned.

But if the battery-operated clock is anything to go by, Michelle is either dead or the world has truly and finally come to an end. When he lifts up onto an elbow, he sees saliva shining on Jensen’s shoulder. Guiltily, he wipes the spot and then his mouth. Then he pokes Jensen.

“Wha-?” Jensen’s eyes slit only a fraction of an inch and he peers owlishly up at Jared before closing them again and covering his face with a pillow. “Is it time?” Jared barely makes out the words beneath muffling layers of feathers and cloth.

Jared and a whole group of the others are being bussed down the coast to some millionaire’s “camp” for a weekend beach party. It’s pretty obvious what kind of party it’s going to be even before Jared snatched a glance at the passenger list. All the guys from the house except for Paul (who’s just been diagnosed with a secondary allergy that’s not responding well to treatment) and Jensen, who was already booked, are going. That most likely means the client list is all male, as well.

Jared never thought he’d wish for an allergy attack. Just a little one. But he’s getting extra pay for going off-site and the overtime and, though he hates to admit it, he’s almost looking forward to a couple of days of not having to watch Jensen go downstairs to meet Him again.

“Yeah, um, actually, I think it’s late.” Jared pulls back the curtain at the head of their bed and squints into the sunlight before he moans and drops the cloth. “Damn it. It’s gotta be close to noon. Michelle said the van’s leaving at ten.”

She probably made me miss it on purpose. He and Michelle had got into it last week, for once not over Jensen. She’s got a mouth like he’s never seen on another human being and one day he’s going to pop her one, woman or not. He just knows it.

He finally climbs out of bed and stretches, his fingers only inches short of the high ceiling, before he drags on his jeans to go downstairs and see what’s up.

“Wait a minute, I’ll go with,” Jensen mumbles sleepily and completely insincerely. He’s not a morning person and especially not before at least two cups of coffee.

Jared’s buttoning his pants when he sees the cream-colored envelope on the floor just inside their door. “Jen?” Jensen looks up at him and then follows Jared’s gaze to the envelope.

“What’s that?” Jensen throws back the sheet and gropes for his boxers.

Jared frowns and shakes his head. “I dunno. I was asking you?” Neither makes any move to get closer to the door. He realizes they’re both acting like it’s a snake about to strike. Rolling his eyes at himself, Jared takes the few steps necessary and leans down to pick up the expensive vellum that he immediately recognizes.

When he turns back, holding the envelope out to Jensen, his frown deepens. “Recognize this?”

“Yeah.” Jensen sits on the edge of the bed, his head tilted one way, then the other, in speculation. “Well, might as well open it. Maybe someone’s redeeming and you gotta stay here this weekend?” It’s a pleasant thought, but Jared can’t ignore the kink in Jensen’s theory; with his time already booked, Jensen won’t have time for Jared anyway.

Jared just grunts an and rips the envelope down the side. The heavy cardstock inside is what passes for a ‘gift certificate’ at La Hacienda. It’s becoming fashionable to purchase an entire evening with one of the workers as a gift, cultivating good will and favors. Both he and Jensen have done their share of honoring the certificates presented to them.

This one, however, is a little different.


Jared gets the feeling it’s not the first time Jensen’s called his name. He snaps to, shaking his head at what must be a really cruel joke or a horrendous mistake by Gina. He hands Jensen the card and watches for his reaction.

It only takes a few seconds for Jensen to read it. “You’re kidding.” He looks back down and scans it again. “Must be a mistake.”

“We should probably go see Claudia.” Jared finishes fastening his jeans and shoves his arms through a button down shirt, his feet into a pair of thong sandals, and waits for Jensen to finish dressing. “Jen, what do you think?”

Jensen just shakes his head and shrugs, a beats the hell out of me look if Jared’s ever seen one. “Dunno. Might as well go ask the boss.”


They find Claudia in the kitchen with Gina and Philomenè, going over the abbreviated menu for the weekend since half the ‘entertainment’ staff isn’t on the premises. Jared looks at the clock, then notices Paul, Michelle, Charisma and Allie sitting at the employee’s table eating lunch. Allie smiles at them, Paul picks sullenly at his sandwich and Charisma picks at her arms. Michelle glares daggers. Same old same old.

Jensen leans in the doorway and Jared rolls his shoulders back against the corner wall, waiting for Claudia to be done with business so they can talk. When she turns around and sees them she doesn’t look surprised at all and her expression becomes carefully guarded. Her heels clack loudly on the tile as she heads out of the kitchen, passing them with a, “Come to my office, boys.”

Jared looks back at Alison who just shrugs. Michelle suddenly seems fascinated with the soup dripping from her spoon back into the bowl. Jensen and Jared exchange looks again and follow Claudia down the hall.

She’s already seated — actually leaning over looking down at the floor — when Jared and Jensen get there. She sits up quickly, closing the drawer and placing two small dog treats on her desk. The puppies must be in their basket beneath her desk. Claudia pretends that she only puts up with the dogs because she has to, but everyone knows better. Claudia does not pretend, however, not to know why they’re there. Jared’s glad they can always count on her, at least, not to play any games with them.

Jared hears a muffled grunt from the vicinity of Claudia’s feet, confirming his earlier suspicion, and glances at Jensen who’s biting his lip with the effort not to laugh. Jared never would have taken Jensen for a toy dog person, but he’s got a weakness for the puppies too.

“I suppose you’re confused.” Claudia spreads her hands and then folds them. “Well, seems like one of you has a benefactor, of sorts.” She pauses and her full lips curl into a rare smile. “Yes, that’s a gift certificate for La Hacienda in your hands. However, it is not for one of our guests, it’s from one. Someone who has requested anonymity, but has graciously purchased both of your time for the entire weekend…” Another pause and this time Jared thinks she’s doing it for effect, “…to spend together. He says you are to consider it a ‘tip’.”

Jared’s too stunned to speak and he’s pretty sure Jensen’s in the same boat. Then he feels Jensen’s hand reach over and squeeze his own. He squeezes back. They both know better than to question Claudia about their gifter’s identity.

“Please tell me this isn’t one of Michelle’s sick jokes,” Jensen murmurs.

“Much to Michelle’s dismay, no.” Claudia smiles at them and shakes her head, then smoothes her features back to her standard neutral expression and picks up some folders, shuffling them around and pulling out papers. “You have through Sunday night to spend as you please, as long as you remain on the grounds. I hope you appreciate what a generous gift this is.”

Jared nods his head hard.

“Fine. Jared — Jensen — enjoy your weekend at La Hacienda.” Claudia’s voice is warm, but they’re dismissed that quickly. Jensen stands and pulls Jared out of the room so fast Jared suspects he’s afraid Claudia will take it all back if they stay another second. Jared can’t say he blames him.

This feels like a dream come true.


Back in their suite, Jensen drops onto the small couch and Jared sits on the edge of the bed, propping the gift certificate on the nightstand and staring at it, like if he searches the paper long enough, he’ll figure out exactly what’s going on and why.

He doesn’t remember ever being this suspicious of a good deed. He wonders if that’s a sign of this place or the kind of person this place is turning him into. Either way, he doesn’t like it much.

“Who do you think it is?” Jensen’s voice cuts into his thoughts and Jared shoots him an incredulous look.

“Who do you think?”

Jensen sighs and moves to the bed with Jared, pulling him down to lay across its width, their feet dangling off the side. “Are you going to let this — him — ruin a whole weekend together? A weekend just for us? C’mon, Jay. Neither of us has to fuck or be fucked, unless it’s by each other.” Jensen’s thumb caresses down the side of Jared’s face before he curls his hand around behind Jared’s head, caressing and gentle.

“I have no idea who it is, Jay. You have a couple of … favorites too, you know.” Jensen takes any sting out of his words with a kiss that leaves Jared breathless and wondering why he even cares who has given them this generous (and expensive) gift.

“Two whole days…” Jared pulls Jensen to him and they roll around on the bed, necking and laughing for a few minutes before Jensen pulls away and props himself up on an elbow.

“So, what do we do?”

Jared knows exactly what he wants to do. Their argument the night before — or Jared’s tantrum, really — is the last thing he wants to think about, and yet it still looms so big in his mind. He only knows one way to take both their minds completely off of everything except each other.

“I never took you for being so slow, Jen,” Jared murmurs as he shoves Jensen’s t-shirt up and begins a slow, mapping journey of kisses across Jensen’s stomach. When Jensen moans and squirms beneath him, Jared moves from kissing to biting and sucking. By the time he’s reached the top of the Jensen’s waistband, he’s managed to lightly mark the well-muscled flesh in four distinct places. Marks they both know have to be gone by Monday morning.

“I’ll show you slow, cowboy.” Jensen deftly flips them over and straddles Jared’s waist, knees digging into ribs. “On second thought, I’m gonna be the cowboy today.” Jared gasps as Jensen scrapes blunt nails down his sides, then back up to flick across Jared’s nipples. Jensen’s wearing that look that says you are mine and I’ve got the balls to prove it while nimble fingers unbutton Jared’s jeans. Jared’s dick is wrapped in the strong, warm hardness of Jensen’s hand between one breath and the next.

“Fuck yeah, Baby. Ride me.” Jared loves that he can drive Jensen crazy with simple words. Jensen loves dirty talk, especially when it’s directed at him. Jared loves to talk dirty to him.

Jared breathes out the things he wants Jensen to do to him. “Get the lube, Jen. I want your hot, slick fingers inside me, getting me ready for your dick. See how many you can get inside my ass. Don’t you want that?”

“Jesus, Jay, wanna be inside you.” Jensen’s words urge Jared on.

He’s really quite smug at the way those beloved green eyes widen, then dilate to full blown lust. Does he know Jensen or what? He continues the litany while rubbing flat palms across Jensen’s nipples, now dark and pebbled with excitement.

“We’re gonna get there. You’re going to bury your cock so deep inside I can taste it. How hard can you take me, baby? Show me. Come on, Jensen, fuck me!” That last is grunted out as Jensen proceeds to follow Jared’s very explicit instructions.


By the time they stumble down the stairs, freshly fucked and showered, it’s mid-afternoon. La Hacienda is eerily quiet, what with the guys gone and most of the others catching catnaps before their shift starts.

Jensen pulls Jared through the kitchen by the hand without stopping, out into the bright sunlight of the garden. Gardeners are trimming shrubs, Danny (and yes, of course The Compound would have a pool-boy) is just putting away the skimmer and the peaceful atmosphere is beyond deceiving. Jared can almost pretend they’re at some exclusive bed & breakfast in the country, sneaking away for much-needed alone time.

They turn the corner at the back of the main house and see Charisma, rocking on the stone bench that borders the entrance path. She holds a doll in her hands. Jared’s seen her with it before; from the look of it, it used to sport shiny auburn curls, but the fibers are grimy and stringy from months of clutching and crying over it. So much for paradise.

Jared wishes there was something he could do. Something he could say that would lift her out of her drugged apathy, even momentarily.

“There’s nothing we can do, Jay.” Jensen’s voice is almost a whisper, as if he’s also afraid to shatter both the wall Charisma’s built around herself and her fragile remaining grip on reality.

Jared sighs, louder than Jensen’s words. “I know.” An irrational flash of resentment follows closely on the heels of this sentiment. Abruptly, Jared just wants to get back to the weekend and his time with Jensen.

“Come on, let’s go swimming. Race you to the pool.” If Jensen thinks Jared’s sudden change in mood is weird, he doesn’t say.

It’s only seconds after Jared leaves Jensen gawking after him before he hears the pounding slap of bare feet on concrete as Jensen races to catch up.

Jared dives in and lets the cool, refreshing water slide over his face and body, washing away any more maudlin thoughts. He’s going to make the most of this opportunity.


“I could get used to this,” Jared jokes, breaking the silence. After the initial giddiness of freedom, they’d gone inside to get out of their soaking clothes, had some lunch and come back out to sunbathe and read. A rare luxury, even on their days off.

The weather is perfect. It’s easy to lounge nude poolside, undisturbed and unselfconscious, reading and pretty much just pretending that their lives aren’t so totally fucked up beyond all comprehension — that they are…normal.

Jared rolls his head lazily to look at Jensen. Gold wire-rimmed glasses perch adorably on Jensen’s nose while he peruses the pages of Marcus Aurelius. God, it’s enough to make Jared spring a boner right there. He allows his gaze to slide along the sleek, tanned length of Jensen’s body and marvels at how healthy he looks, despite the life they lead. The love bites still visible along Jensen’s belly catch his eye and Jared can’t help smiling.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest and inhales the honeysuckle vines that twine in and out of the garden wall surrounding the pool.

“Yeah…’s nice.” Jensen’s voice is automatic as he turns a page. It’s not often he can read undisturbed and Jared loves that Jensen can be such a geek.

He closes his eyes and revels in the heat of the sun soaking into his skin, concentrates on the tickle of perspiration sliding in rivulets down his sides and back. Almost time for another dip to cool off. His lungs are clear and unrestricted and it’s been weeks since his last attack. It’s almost impossible to remember the last time he felt this good; it feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe what they had to trade to stay together and keep him healthy is worth … Jared stops, aghast that he could possibly even think such a thing. Nothing is worth having to watch Jensen leave their room each night to go downstairs… to whore himself for Jared’s wellbeing.

Jared doesn’t like the turn his thoughts have taken and climbs out of his own chair to straddle Jensen in his. He touches the arm that’s holding the book and can see Jensen trying to hide his smile while stubbornly refusing to look up.

There’s a gardener about fifty feet away pruning rose bushes but Jared’s pretty sure everyone who works at La Hacienda has seen it all by now. And, both he and Jensen have pretty much lost any modicum of modesty thanks to this new life they’re living. Well. Jared has and he can talk Jensen into it with enough cocksucking.

Finally, Jensen rests the book across his chest (Jared doesn’t like that) and looks over the tops of his glasses, eyebrow lifting in question. His lips are a little dry from the sun, but rosy and full and Jared just wants to suck on them.

“Don’t want you to read,” Jared declares. “Wanna lick the sweat off your chest.”

Which is exactly what he proceeds to do.

A few seconds later, the peace of the gardens is disturbed by the dull thud of Jensen’s book sliding to the stone patio and the wet, sucking sounds of Jared’s mouth as he takes Jensen’s dick to the back of his throat, then lets it slide out again, licking the puffy crown until Jensen pushes his head back down.

Jensen’s fingers curl into the damp mop of Jared’s hair as he moans softly. “I love you,” he says. “Love you so fucking much.”


Even though they can’t leave The Compound (and didn’t Jared call that one?), one of the benefits of living there is the space and freedom they’re given during off hours. Neither of them is much for tennis, but there are acres of land to walk across, a pond to fish—or just splash around—in, the pool they both love and a dozen places to go where Jared can maintain his little fantasy that they’re free, healthy and the world doesn’t suck.

Lazy Sundays. Jared remembers what it was like on the rare day they weren’t shooting the full weekend. Slowly stretching out every muscle beneath soft cotton sheets, knowing he didn’t have to be any particular place, and had all day to get there.

After sleeping late again, basking in the sheer bliss of knowing the day is their own, Jared plans to recreate just such a Sunday.

To feed the illusion of isolation, Jensen suggests they take all meals in their room or pack a picnic to take on the grounds. Jared wholeheartedly agrees. Especially after running into Charisma the day before, he’s all for having as little to do as possible with the other inhabitants.

They pretty much manage to avoid everyone through judicious use of the back stairs and spending most of their time outside. The only real reminders have been Alison’s high-pitched giggle and Eliza’s throaty laugh as the girls passed their suite after work Saturday night.

Jensen agrees to a detour to the kennels on their hike Sunday morning so Jared can spend quality time with the Rotts and Dobies used on the grounds.

“Now, these are real dogs.” Jared’s plays ‘bitey hands’ with Ceasar, the largest male red Doberman. He teases with fingers and thumb snapping together in the air around the dog’s nose and mouth. Ceasar’s lip curls back in mock rage as he growls.

“That thing’s gonna take your hand off at the wrist one day.” Jensen uneasy around the guard dogs unlike Jared, who was instantly welcomed by the kennel’s occupants, two and four-legged alike.

Jared rolls his eyes. “At least I don’t have to worry about my ankle being humped to death.”

He knows Jensen can’t really retort to that since Yang, the male of Claudia’s pair of Chinese Cresteds, just about breaks its neck to get to Jensen’s leg every time he sees him.

Jensen huffs out of the dog run to the echoes of Jared’s cheerful snickers. Even with his back turned, Jared knows Jensen’s body language enough to know he’s grinning like a loon.

Jensen’s relaxed. Probably more than he’s been since they had to leave Canada. Jared once more sends a silent prayer of thanks for what they have. And he hasn’t given up the dream of them ultimately getting to home and family in Texas. It’s just a little different now, with the added bonus of he and Jensen living happily ever after together.

After wearing himself out–though not the dogs–Jared’s more than ready to take their lunch out to the back of the estate’s lot and nap in the sun, preferably with his head in Jensen’s lap.

When he wakes, Jensen’s in a playful mood. One that involves lots of tickling and tussling and mock sparring. Jared didn’t think he’d ever feel so carefree within the confines of the Compound walls. As corny as it sounds in his head, he has the ridiculous urge to swing Jensen around until they both fall dizzy to the ground. Luckily, it passes quickly.

Whoever their generous tipper is has Jared’s undying gratitude. Even if it’s Him. He makes a mental note not to be such a dick next time their paths cross.


Toward sunset the House van rolls through the gates with the crew that had gone to the party.

“God, I’m so grateful you didn’t have to go with them.”

Jared joins Jensen at the window and they watch the men disembark. They’re all dragging ass and look like they’ve been rode hard and put up wet. Jared’s almost one hundred percent positive the first part is right.

Jason, Gary and Kevin head around the house toward the pool, probably to soak in the hot tub and just take some time to be after two days of non-stop service. Paul waits for Josh to step out of the van and the two of them wander off in the opposite direction, toward the small cultivated wood to the north of the driveway.

That could be he and Jensen so easily.

All that stands between them and that is one piece of paper. And next time, who knows?

Weekend’s not over yet, he thinks, pressing a little more firmly against Jensen and feeling Jensen push back. Plenty of time to think about that later.

As he pulls Jensen back to their bed, he notices a lone straggler stumble out the side door. He recognizes Taylor’s long, messy hair. The kid just joined the household last week and he’s having problems with the transition. Like Josh and the others who’d come to La Hacienda after them, Jared feels a pang of sorrow that this place is even necessary for people like him and Jensen, Taylor, Paul and the rest.

A gilded cage masquerading as a sanctuary for people with pretty faces and crappy luck. But, as long as he has Jensen, Jared figures his luck can’t be too bad.


On to Running Toward Nothing

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