Jared was a pretty lucky guy. He was young, sure, but he'd done his fair share of travelling, and liked to think that there wasn't all that much that could take him by surprise.

Then enter exhibit A.

When he'd first met Jensen, he been pretty well behaved. Instead of saying something stupid, something along the lines of 'wow, you're kinda pretty,' he'd poked fun at Days of Our Lives instead. Far safer to ask just how many tropical islands there were between Massachusetts and Paris than as to whether or not Jensen would be agreeable to oh, say, sex in the nearest men's room. He liked to think that time had somewhat dulled the edges of Jensen's appeal. He'd seen the guy drunk, coffee deprived and puking for the US. He should be past teenage crushes.

Then Jensen just had to go pair that shirt with pants that were illegal in all fifty states. "Jesus, dude. Trying to impress someone?" Jared whistled, sat on the arm of the couch as Jensen descended the stairs looking like the seven deadly sins all rolled into one center fold model.

Jensen blinked, his infamously bemused smile taking the edge off the seduction he wore like a cloak. He stepped into Jared's space, settling under his arm as if his body was made for it, peering up through thick, heavy lashes.

Jared swallowed and slid of the couch. Just what he needed. If Jensen wanted to get laid, fine, but common courtesy demanded that he spare Jared the full on blast of his coy flirtation. Asshole.

He squeezed Jensen's shoulders and peeled himself away before he groped where friends should not grope. "Lemme put down some more kibble." He called over his shoulder, heading into the kitchen.

Sadie and Harley weren't their usual playful selves. They hadn't been since Jared had made it home. Maybe they were just unsettled, he wasn't sure, but he worried. Neither of them were sick. Harley still ate more than a dog his size ever should, and Sadie hadn't lost that 'I'm far smarter than you are, human' gleam in her eyes. They were just quiet.

Jensen suggested taking them to the vet, and Jared was more than willing to follow advice. He freaked out easily where his babies were concerned. If they weren't on better form by the weekend, he was taking them to see a specialist.

"You behave." He said needlessly, pouring two bowls of kibble and replacing their water before bestowing a loving ear scratch for each of them. "Don't wait up."

Harley licked his fingers and Sadie shot him a sad, soulful pout.

May God see fit to never give him children. They'd have him wrapped around their little fingers.

"Cab's here." Jensen called from the front room.

Jared scratched Harley's ears one last time before snatching his keys and killing the kitchen light.

Jensen was waiting with their jackets, his sun bleached hair soft and spiky, more Dean's style than his own.

"Alright," He grinned, throwing his jacket over one shoulder, "let's go."

________________________________________

It had been Mike's idea to get together for a night out once they were all back in town. They hit Gotham, ploughing through thick, juicy steaks and shooting the shit. Mike had grown a few degrees crazier over the summer, and Tom a few inches taller. They both had the usual suitcase full of crazy stories. Tom had taken a nice, relaxing cruise that had somehow ended up detouring through the Gulf, and Mike had done some crazy shit down in Mexico that Jared didn't really think he should be repeating.

"Last season," Mike lamented woefully, holding a beer high as their plates were cleared from the table.

Jensen had been drinking bottles down like they were water, and hung half over Mike's shoulder, laughing drunkenly. "Next stop, Celebrity Ballroom Dancing."

"Shut the fuck up, Dallas." Mike crowed, clanking his glass against Jensen's. Tom shook his head and surreptitiously asked for the check. He shook Jared off when he tried to cover his and Jensen's bill.

"You can get the first round." He grinned, tipping his head towards Jensen and Mike, who were bickering back and forth like children. Jared groaned, and grinned, before hauling Jensen out of his seat.

"Come on, Frackles, I thought you wanted to party."

There was a sudden devilish gleam to Jensen's eyes. He grinned dangerously and ran his palm up Jared's thigh, slow, slower, until he reached Jared's hip and pushed him away, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Mike tackled him from behind. "Man, what the fuck did you feed him over the summer?" he sniggered in Jared's ear.

Jared grunted inarticulately and tried to will down his hard on.

Good fucking question.

________________________________________



The majority of Vancouver's clubs were Downtown, and there were enough of them on Howe to keep a body entertained all night. Mike put in his votes for The Penthouse, swiftly vetoed by Tom, who swore flat out that he'd be facing a divorce if word got back to his wife.

Jensen sniggered as he walked backwards down the street, mocking Tom playfully when he wasn't flashing Jared his most seductive smiles.

There were butterflies in Jared's belly. Either Jensen was more drunk than Jared had ever seen him before, which, given that he'd seen Jensen after one of Chad's shindigs figured pretty unlikely, or he had been replaced by an alien impersonator.

Stranger things had happened!

They loaded into The Plaza, the loud, impersonal type of club that Mike loved and Jared tolerated. He bought the first round, then spent the half an hour that followed trying not to embarrass himself as Jensen practically rubbed up against him.

"More drinks!" Jared croaked, his voice breaking as the liquid fire in Jensen's eyes washed over him in devastating waves.

Jensen smiled and nodded, melting into the crowds as Jared made a hasty retreat to safety.

It took almost thirty minutes just to get served, and by the time he was in possession of a pitcher, Jensen was nowhere in sight.

Jared wasn't sure if he was relived or not.

"Hey!" Jared shouted over the noise, heading over to the table where Tom and Mike were holding court. "You seen Jen?" Tom shook his head slowly, looking around and seeing nothing but the pack of bodies on either side.

Mike simply laughed. "Probably out back getting his dick sucked." He turned back to the pair of girls he was flirting with and left Jared staring at the back of his head.

Okay fine, so Jensen had come out looking like sex on legs, but he wasn't the nightclub hook up type. His standards were a little more up market, and damn near impossible sometimes. Dean might have fucked anything that moved, but Jensen was a whole lot more picky.

Bathroom, then. He dumped the pitcher by Mike's elbow and shook off Tom's concern. "I'll go haul his ass back."

Elbowing his way through the crowds, Jared took advantage of the fact that he was almost a head taller than most people there to try and scan through the masses.

The bathroom wasn't hard to find, and he followed the smell of smoke and piss towards the back stalls. It was dark there, the type of place people liked to fuck, or be fucked.

Jared froze.

Someone, a so soon to be fucking dead someone, had Jensen up against the wall, arm around his throat. Jensen's fingers scratched the tiles, small, hurt little sounds escaping his lips. His pants were around his ankles, and he...he...

Something hot and red rose inside of Jared, lashing out before he could recognize the fury for what it was. The guy was face down on the floor, but that didn't stop Jared landing a boot in his ribs. Once. Twice. Again. Nobody...nobody got to touch Jensen like that. Nobody got to hurt him. Nobody...

He stopped kicking only when Jensen's laughter broke through the red haze. Fuck, Jared thought, Jensen was hysterical. He was in shock. What the fuck had that sonofabitch done?

"Jen?" He looked up, hands held out soothingly, not knowing how to even start.

Jensen's pants were around his ankles, and there was blood on his lips. Bruises in his skin bloomed dark already, and something painful wrapped around Jared's chest. God.

Jensen was still laughing when he took a step closer, his hands pressed flat over Jared's rapid, bunny fast heart. He smelled like blood and sex, hot and violent. "Don't worry baby." He whispered, his voice rough with whiskey and pain. He leaned up, tugged Jared's lip between his teeth, and didn't pull back until blood bloomed between them. "I just closed my eyes and pretended he was you."

He took a step back and winked, pulling his pants up and buckling them. "Next time I might let you go first."

Then he just left, leaving Jared with his jaw on the floor, blood in his mouth, and some poor fuck broken at his feet.