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Jan. 23rd, 2009 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Title: I've Noticed You Around
Author:
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Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: R
Warnings: Strippers! Total lack of realism.
Word Count: 3200.
Summary: Jared is a stripper. Jensen keeps accidentally asking for Chad. Life is hard, in all senses of the word.
Notes: Title from "Would You" by Touch and Go, almost certainly the sexiest song ever written.
Disclaimer: Lies and untruths.
"Busy night," says Chad, slumping down next to Jared. Jared's busy getting his eyeliner on; he doesn't bother with it on nights he's stripping, but he's working the crowd tonight, so he wants to look good up close.
"Lip gloss, yes or no?" he asks Chad. Chad nods, and Jared roots through his bag. "Busy busy or Monday busy?"
"Kinda between," says Chad. "You're gonna be making some decent tips, anyway."
Jared smacks his lips together and starts buttoning his shirt. It's black, shiny, and it makes his shoulders look even broader than usual.
He doesn't mind working the crowd. He's a natural flirt, and he's got a knack for hooking up reluctant guys with the right man for them. Jeff's always been impressed by it, and it's not like Jared wants to work in the sex industry forever, but he likes hearing he's good at things anyway.
"See anyone out there you want me to hook you up with?" Jared asks Chad, sliding him a grin.
"Dude, guys are gross," says Chad.
"Gay stripper might not have been the right career choice for you."
"Whatever, just cuz I don't want them doesn't mean they don't want me. I'm fucking sexy, yo." Chad says this while running a finger down his chest. Jared's gay, and it's one of the least sexy things he's ever seen in his life. But one man's trash is another man's treasure, or something. One man's ugly stripper is another man's hot stripper?
Jared shakes his head. There's a reason he's not an English major.
*
"Treat yourself, man, it's on me," Chris had said. "Just figure out your stupid life crisis."
Jensen can't say it sounded like a good idea at the time. It sounded like a bad idea when Chris suggested it, a bad idea when Jensen agreed, a bad idea on the drive over, and now it seems like a bad idea sitting in the car, staring at the door of the club and not moving.
He's pretty sure he's gay. He hadn't given it a lot of thought to his sexuality before; he was raised in Texas, always figured he was a good ol' boy who'd marry a girl.
And then his girlfriends kept pissing him off. Some of them were legit--Mindy Brockston was a bitch, Polly Hillard was a ditz, Ilsa Krunning was kind of terrifying and nearly took his head off when he was late to a date--but some of them, like Danneel, were pretty much perfect, and Jensen hadn't been sure what his problem was.
"You're gay," Chris told him.
"I'm not gay," said Jensen, automatically. "Your mom's gay."
"Seriously, Jen. You ever thought about dudes?"
Jensen had, well
He thought everybody sometimes--
Maybe not.
And Chris had finally given him fifty bucks and told him the name of a gay strip club far enough from campus he wasn't likely to be seen. He was pretty glad Chris wasn't coming. He might be gay, but Chris is, well, Chris. He can't really think about getting hot while Chris is around.
The club is still in front of him, still intimidating.
He thinks about it--hot, sweaty guys, gyrating as they pulled their clothes off...
Okay, so. Yeah. He's going to do this.
In five minutes.
*
It's semi-busy, Chad was right. Jared's on his feet, making sure everyone has drinks, keeping occupied, getting some private attention if they desire it.
And then, the guy walks in.
Tommy's on stage, doing his Superman act. Jared doesn't personally think that stripping down to a red thong with an S on the front is that sexy, but it's not like the show is for him.
The guy is staring at Tommy, looking, well--he looks like a fish out of water. Jared normally loves those guys. He gets to take them under his wing, guide them through the new experience, find the perfect man for them. It all feels very heroic.
But Jared doesn't want to set this one up with the perfect guy. Or, he does, but he wants it to be him. Jared wants to go up and use ridiculous pickup lines, tell him he'll make him feel so good, get all over him.
That's not job tonight, though, so he heads over with a coy smile and says, "Evening."
The guy looks like he might jump out of his skin, but he's trying not to. He probably thinks he's being so smooth.
"Evening," says the guy, his voice barely shaking.
"So," Jared says, glancing around the room, "what can I do you for?"
The guy coughs. "I think that's my line."
Jared smirks at him. "I'm not on the menu until two. But we've got a lot of other options."
"Right," says the guy. "Um. I like--blonds?"
Jared gives him a small, real smile, encouraging. "Let me take you to my friend Donovan."
Jared personally thinks that Donovan is maybe, possibly, the most retarded stripper name in the world. Chad thinks it's mysterious and sexy. Jared thinks it sounds like Chad's had a few too many hits to the head. Which he probably has.
Jared takes the guy to a seat in Chad's section and sets him down.
"Want a drink?"
"Uh--whiskey," he says.
Jared winks. "Coming right up."
He doesn't glance back at the guy at the table, even if he wants to. He drops off the order at the bar and then whispers, "Take good care of the guy at fifteen, he's new," to Chad.
Chad glances over and snorts. "Obviously."
Jared glances back too. Spiky hair, pouty lips, nervous, bright eyes--man. He'd better be around at two. Jared will definitely show him a thing or two. Or, like, a billion.
*
Jensen lets out a shaky breath, leaning his head against the wall of the club and taking a long drag of his cigarette.
It hadn't been bad. It had been pretty hot, honestly, the guy had ground against him til he was crazy with it, then whispered in his ear to just let go, and Jensen had come in his pants thinking about that stupid tall guy with the floppy hair and killer smile.
Seriously, he said he liked blonds? Jensen could kick himself.
"Hey, can I bum one?"
Jensen looks up, and there's tall and floppy--bad nickname--giving him a small smile. It's totally different from the flirty smirk he had going inside the bar; he looks friendly and almost shy.
Jensen holds out the cigarettes and the guy takes one.
"Light?" he asks.
Jensen would have expected him to just lean in and touch their cigarettes together--it seems like a stripper move. Jensen shouldn't judge.
He holds out his lighter and the guy leans in.
He takes a long, appreciative smoke. Jensen does the best to ignore the way his cheeks hollow around it. It's a bad place to go.
"So, how was your first time?"
Jensen glares. "It wasn't my first time," he lies.
The guy smiles. "Course not." He takes another smoke.
"But it was, uh--good?"
He laughs. "Donovan's the best, man. Taught me everything I know."
Jensen wants to ask what exactly the guy knows, but he's not that guy. He doesn't work like that.
The guy puts out his cigarette on the wall. "Thanks for the smoke, uh, ...?"
"Jensen," says Jensen.
The guy grins back, something genuine and amazing in his eyes. "Jared," he says. "See you around."
It's a bitch, but Jensen knows he will.
*
"How'd you do?" asks Chad when Jared gets home.
"Decent tips. You?"
"Awesome," says Chad. "That newbie you hooked me up with? Fucking amazing tipper."
Jared feels a twinge of anger. "Yeah?"
Chad slants him a glance. "Dude, don't get a crush on a customer."
"I'm not!"
But Chad keeps staring. Jared's so busted.
*
Jensen somehow ends up a regular. The first night Jared's actually doing lap dances, Jensen trips over his tongue too much to actually ask for him, and the second time he feels too awkward to do it. He's resigned himself to never actually getting any attention from Jared, but he can't give up seeing him. It's pathetic.
And then, he walks into his drawing class on Wednesday, and Jared is standing naked in the middle of the room.
Jensen trips over his feet and hits an easel.
He recovers, pretends it's nothing, and catches the concerned-if-amused grin Jared shoots him. Cheeks blazing, he gets to spend an entire class staring at Jared and trying to capture the lighting on his--really, really big--cock.
Jensen is definitely, completely, 100% gay.
After class, Jared wraps a blanket around himself and Jensen putters around with his stuff until most everyone is gone. Then, he goes to Jared.
"Hey," says Jared, grinning.
"Hi. Are you--do you--hi."
Jared laughs. "I go here," he says. "I just have a job on the side."
Jensen tries to come up with something to say, but he doesn't know. He knows he should say something. It's not like he and Jared know each other or anything. They just--they see each other once a week when Jensen gets lap dances. And Jensen has a crush. What's he supposed to say?
Jared's grin finally falters, and he says, "I'll just--"
"I was gonna go get some coffee and study for my Art History midterm," says Jensen in a rush. "Want to come?"
The smile returns, blinding and real. "Sure."
Ten minutes later, they're seated in a booth in the campus Starbucks, no books out yet. Jared's got one of those ridiculously sweet custom drinks with caramel and whipped cream, which is already all over his upper lip.
Jensen has never wanted anyone more in his entire life, and Jared is fully clothed. He's not even wearing eyeliner. Jensen thinks this has to be the true Jared, this guy he likes so much.
Well, assuming Jared is actually his name.
"It's not like I've got any modesty left," Jared is explaining. "So I figured I'd make some extra cash posing nude for the art classes."
"So you strip, you model..." Jensen clucks his tongue. "Your parents don't help at all?"
Jared traces around the rim of his coffee cup. "They disowned me," he says, carefully casual. "When I told them I was gay."
Jensen winces. "God, I'm sorry, I--"
Jared waves his hand in a practiced motion. "It happens."
That doesn't seem like much comfort.
"I just figured it out," Jensen says without meaning to. "That I'm gay. My parents don't know. Neither do my friends, really. They suspect. Except my roommate, he knows."
"Getting a coffee with a gay stripper might not be the best way to stay in," Jared comments.
Jensen finds he doesn't care much.
*
Jensen has an art history book out and Jared's got engineering, and they're mostly quiet. But Jared can't stop thinking. He's only been fantasizing about Jensen for weeks, and now he's sitting at a table with him like a normal person, not like a stripper and his john. And there's so much Jared wants to know.
He finally blurts out, "How come you don't have a boyfriend?"
Jensen looks up and raises his eyebrow. Jared is struck, for the millionth time, by how hot he is. There is no universe in which Jensen should have to pay for sex.
"Huh?" asks Jensen.
Jared blushes. "I just--you could get it free, you know. You probably don't have to keep paying for Chad to wriggle around on your dick."
"Chad?"
"Shit. Donovan. Don't stalk him, please? Because we live together, so you'd be stalking me, and it'd be weird."
"Oh. Uh. I won't," says Jensen, looking down into his coffee and blushing. A small, vindictive part of Jared wants to tell Jensen that Chad's straight, but he doesn't want to lose the income. "So," says Jensen awkwardly, "you two are...?"
"No!" Jared yelps. "God, no, we're just roommates. Uh. No. Jesus."
"Does he go to school here too?"
Jared snorts. "Chad? Like hell. He's a dumbfuck."
Jensen laughs. It's a great sound. Jared wishes he did it more often, but he guesses strip clubs aren't the funniest places around. "I'll keep that in mind."
*
Jared is stripping tonight. It's kind of like all Jensen's dreams are coming true, except they're not, because he mostly wants to punch every guy who's checking Jared out in the face. It's hot, sure--Jared goes by "Cowboy Sam" on stage and he's wearing chaps and a vest and boots and, well. Jensen is seriously only human, and Chad/Donovan is on his dick, and yeah. He's torn between annoyance and arousal and it's just giving him a headache.
"Hey," says Donovan into his ear, smooth, "I'm with you tonight, not Sam."
"Huh?" asks Jensen. Jared's twirling the hat around his head, preparing to throw it into the crowd. Jensen is distracted by his happy realization that Jared isn't a fake name. That and the stripping. He's really distractable tonight.
"Come on, you don't want him," Donovan whispers, low and seductive. "I'm your favorite. I'll let you do whatever you want. We can go out back--"
"Uh," says Jensen. He doesn't really know how to turn down a stripper. 'It's not you, it's me?' What does he say here?
"You don't want to?" asks Donovan, pouting.
"No?" says Jensen.
He must have seriously pissed the guy off, because the next thing he knows Donovan is off his lap and storming toward the stage. Jensen hopes he didn't just cause some sort of stripper-roommate grudge war or something. That would suck.
Then Donovan is pulling Jared down off the stage and pushing him onto Jensen, to the jeers and boos of the crowd.
"Keep your shirts on, I'm coming!" Donovan yells. "Jay, seriously, do something, I'm going nuts here," he hisses at Jared, and then gets on the stage and starts stripping himself.
Jared watches Chad go with total terror in his eyes, then he turns to Jensen.
He's shiny, probably oiled up or something. He's still got his vest and chaps on. He's miles and miles of shining, golden skin, on Jensen's lap.
"Um," he says. "Hi?"
"Hi," Jensen echoes. It's like confusing, homosexual Christmas.
Jared shifts nervously, and he brushes his ass right over Jensen's dick. Jensen can't help it; he bucks and moans. "Jared."
When he opens his eyes, Jared is looking at him thoughtfully. Then, he smirks and grinds down on Jensen's dick.
"Jesus, Jared," Jensen manages, fitting his hands into the grooves of Jared's hips, anchoring him. He thrusts up again, and then they're suddenly moving together, fucking through their clothes in the middle of everyone. Not that Jensen cares or even notices much--the world other than him and Jared is a blur of lights and colors, a blur of things. It doesn't matter.
Jared leans down to mouth against Jensen's neck, wet, open-mouth kisses on his hot skin. Jensen shakes his head, takes his hands away from Jared's hips to position him for a real kiss. It's messy and uncoordinated--they're both breathing too hard to keep it up that well, so they end up mostly gasping into each other's mouths, but it's hands-down the hottest thing to have ever happened to Jensen in his life. He moves his hands down from Jared's face to grab his ass and shove their dicks together, loving the friction.
A distant part of his brain knows this is probably illegal; none of him cares.
He comes in his pants, wet and messy, and Jared shudders against him a minute later, slumping down against Jensen.
When he pulls his head up, his expression is unreadable.
"Um," says Jensen. "Can I buy you dinner? Or--breakfast? Whatever?"
Jared laughs, a little hollowly. "Jensen, part of the point of strippers is that you don't have to take them out."
Jensen swallows. He thought--well. He's an idiot, is what it boils down to. "God," he mutters, "I can't believe I'm that fucker who--never mind. Sorry. I'll, uh." He runs his hand through his hair, pushes slightly and Jared's off him in a flash. "Bye," he says, and flees.
*
"So you're the biggest dumbass in the state of Dumbassia," says Chad.
"He felt bad," says Jared, burying his face in the pillow. "I don't want his pity breakfast."
"Dude," says Chad. "I saw the guy looking at you. He was fucking gone for you. And not, like, stripper gone. He wants to have your babies gone."
"He does not."
"I shit you not! I know my shit, Jay, and trust me. That dude's into you. What'd he say after you turned him down?"
The fucker who, Jared thinks. He says, "Nothing, really. Just left."
"He didn't just want a lap dance, Jay," says Chad, looking serious for once. "Trust me. He wanted more."
Jared wants to believe him. He really does.
He's not sure if it's a good or bad sign when Jensen doesn't show up the next week.
*
Jensen is thinking, sort of abstractly, about dating. He thinks he should try. He knows he's gay, he knows he likes rubbing his dick against other men; he should stop being hung up on a stripper and get out into the world.
It's easier said than done.
He's brooding on this on Wednesday as he comes out of drawing.
"Hi," he hears, and looks up to see Jared. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt and a nervous expression.
He's still the best thing Jensen has ever seen.
"Hi," says Jensen, warily.
"So, um," Jared says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really--I can't stop--" he swallows. "What kind of fucker are you?"
Jensen boggles at him. "What?"
"I can't stop thinking about it! You said--you asked--please."
Jensen swallows. He knows he's bright red. He knows he's going to regret this. "The kind of fucker," he says, "who falls for his stripper." He looks away then, unable to see Jared's reaction. "Thinks there's something there that--"
"I'd love to get dinner," says Jared. Jensen looks up at that, and Jared is grinning and fond and everything he's ever wanted. Not that he knew about it. "Or breakfast. Or anything."
Jensen can't keep an answering grin off his own face. "Really?"
"Really," says Jared. He leans down and Jensen's sure he's about to get kissed, but he sees Jared look around at the other students and think better of it.
Fuck that.
Jensen gets his hand around the back of Jared's neck, pulls him down and presses their lips together.
It's nothing like the kiss at the bar--their mouths are closed for a long minute, and then Jared tentatively licks at Jensen's lips, and Jensen lets him in. It's a slow, searching kiss, and Jensen wants to do this pretty much forever.
When they pull back, Jared's still grinning, and Jensen knows he is too.
"I don't have to tip you any more, right?" asks Jensen. "Because I'm pretty broke after all those lapdances."
"Fuck you," says Jared, grinning.
"You mean it?"
"Not til at least the third date," Jared shoots back. "I don't want you thinking I'm easy."