Paper Faces | Part Five

Jensen was remarkably comfortable. He stretched lazily, arms reaching above his head as the down comforter inched down his body. The stretch reminded him that he’d had sex last night – rough, demanding sex that had left him completely spent and exhausted next to Jared, who’d plied him with slow, incongruously sweet kisses until Jensen fell asleep next to him.

God, the sex had been amazing. The Jared that Jensen had thought he knew had left the building entirely, leaving behind a dominant, masterful Jared that Jensen would let bend him over any available surface in a moment’s notice. The confidence that Jared had exuded had been a huge turn on, and Jensen’s morning wood was getting a little insistent the more Jensen thought about last night.

Jensen had driven as fast as he could back to Jared’s apartment, Jared’s hand curled possessively around his the entire way. Jensen had kept stealing glances at Jared and every time he saw that Jared was nearly staring at him with a dark, intense look that made Jensen’s skin quiver in anticipation.

There’d been no question that Jensen was getting topped last night – none at all. Of course the second they’d gotten through Jared’s door they’d been greeted furiously by Jared’s dogs, which Jensen hadn’t expected.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Jared had apologized, tugging the dogs away from Jensen by their collars. “They love new people.” He’d turned to the dogs. “You have very bad manners. Yes you do. Come here, you’re going in the kitchen behind the gate.”

“I don’t mind,” Jensen had said, crouching down and petting them. “They seem sweet.”

“They scared my sister half to death the first time she visited,” Jared had replied as he released the hounds. They wiggled in circles around Jared and Jensen as they embraced once more, and when the two men started kissing the dogs went off to find something more interesting do.

Jensen glanced over to his left and noticed his bedmate was missing. If he listened he could hear Jared humming in what was probably his kitchen, if the sounds of pots and pans banging around were any indication. Judging from the light streaming through the window, Jared had allowed Jensen to sleep in. That was sweet of him.

Jensen’s hips lifted slightly as he reached under the covers to grasp himself. If Jared was busy cooking breakfast, Jensen might have just enough time to bring himself off before he had to get out of bed and start the day. His eyes shut as he stroked himself, remembering more and more details from last night – how Jared had pushed him firmly yet gently on the bed after divesting Jensen of his clothing, how he’d slid into Jensen in one long stroke that was almost too much.

Jensen gasped and increased his rhythm.

“Oh hey, Jensen, you’re awake,” Jared said, coming into the bedroom, spatula in hand. “I made break- oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—“Jared’s face was growing redder and redder. Jared was dressed in a soft-looking pair of worn denim jeans. There was a hole over one knee and they were too loose, riding low on his hips, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Jensen let his eyes trail across the expanse of golden skin of Jared’s chest and realized that he’d been so distracted the night before that he hadn’t taken time to appreciate just how built Jared really was.

Jensen could see that while Jared was embarrassed, he wasn’t looking away. The growing tent in Jared’s pants was definitely interested in what was going on in the room.

Jensen relaxed his grip on himself and pushed the covers aside, unashamedly standing up and taking the few steps separating him from Jared.

“Will breakfast keep?” Jensen asked, his voice husky. Jared just stared at him, wide-eyed, and nodded. Jensen leaned in for a kiss which Jared wasn’t shy at all about returning, and then Jensen sank to his knees, unbuttoning and drawing down the waistband of Jared’s pants as he did so.

Jensen kept his eyes open as he took Jared’s length into his mouth. He wanted to see Jared’s face; he wanted to see his expression as Jared came undone.

“Oh, holy shit, Jensen,” Jared breathed. His mouth had gone a little slack, as if what Jensen was doing was so good that Jared had forgotten how to function. Jensen chuckled a little around his mouthful and increased his efforts – he wanted to make this the best damn blowjob that Jared had ever received.

Now Jared was leaning back against the wall for support, still clutching that silly spatula while his other hand splayed against the wallpaper. His hips were undulating in a slow, almost sultry back and forth motion, but Jensen could tell that Jared was doing his best to hold still. Their eyes were still locked together, and while Jensen tended to Jared’s needs with his mouth and hand, he let his other hand trail downwards and curl around his own arousal, stroking just enough to tease himself, but not to come.

Jensen never really liked to swallow, though, so when he saw that Jared was getting close he gave Jared one final, slow, long lick and used his hand to finish the job. Jared’s breath came in little puff of breaths, the muscles on his stomach started to quiver ever so slightly, and with a cry Jared came. His eyes closed and his head shot back, and Jensen felt a little bad for him because it sounded like a solid thunk.

Jared didn’t seem to care, if the way he reached down and tugged Jensen up was any indication. Jensen went willingly, his mouth meeting Jared’s and Jared groaned as he tasted himself on Jensen’s tongue. Jared manhandled Jensen back towards the bed and Jensen found himself sitting on the edge of the mattress while Jared went to his knees to return the favor.

Oh, it was good. Jensen was glad he wasn’t standing for this, because before too long Jared had him lying back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge at the knees while Jared gave as good as he’d gotten. Probably better, Jensen thought. He tried to keep his hips still but Jared seemed to like it when he lost control. Before too long Jared’s hands were both clenched around the globes of Jensen’s derrière, almost treading like a cat while he swallowed Jensen to his root.

Jensen tried to think, but couldn’t. His world was reduced to where he was joined with Jared – where Jared was swallowing around Jensen as if it were the most natural thing in the world, almost as if Jared’s throat was dancing.

Dancing. Wait.

Jensen’s eyes shot open and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at Jared. He struggled to form any coherent thoughts, but it was very hard to do when this gorgeous man was slowly breaking him apart inch by inch.

But then Jared made a low noise in his throat, almost like a growl, and coherency came rushing back so fast that Jensen almost felt assaulted by it.

Jared dancing in the club, his body moving so fluidly and sensually that Jensen had barely believed this was the same shy man that had entered the club with him.

Masquerade on the stage, moving in nearly the exact way as Jared had in the club last night.

Jared’s growl as he deep-throated him, forcing Jensen to thrust deeper, and the way Masquerade had done the exact same thing in the alley.

It wasn’t possible.

Was it?

“Hey, Jensen, is everything okay?” Jensen heard Jared asked, drawing Jensen back into the present. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Jared stared up at him with concerned eyes. It caused an adorable little wrinkle between his brows, but Jensen didn’t like to see Jared distressed. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that, despite Jared’s talented mouth, his erection had begun to flag.

Looking down now, though, and seeing Jared’s mouth reddened and spit-slick, hovering just over the tip of Jensen’s cock caused it to stir and fill again.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Jared,” Jensen said. “Sorry, guess I’m still a little sleepy. Please, continue.” Jensen smiled down at Jared and made a sweeping gesture with his right hand, inviting him to carry on with what he’d been doing.

Jared smiled back, all signs of distress wiped away in that instant and Jensen felt something besides lust, something big and a little terrifying, start to churn deep in his belly – something that felt a bit like the first stirrings of love, and something Jensen hadn’t felt in a very long time.

All of that fled though, when Jared took him back into his mouth, and Jensen allowed himself to be swept along by the sensation.

Breakfast was pancakes which Jared simply microwaved to reheat, with orange juice from concentrate. Jensen made a joke about Jared cooking breakfast for all his conquests, at which point Jared clammed up a bit and explained haltingly that he didn’t really have conquests.

Jensen smirked and made a big show out of being Jared’s first conquest. Jared laughed and stared at the floor until Jensen distracted him with a kiss, which turned into about twenty kisses, which turned into them making out on the couch until they were both breathless. Between make-out sessions they flipped through television shows, not finding anything interesting to watch until Jared stopped it on a dancing competition.

Jensen turned on the couch and stared at Jared, his thoughts once more comparing him to Masquerade. The thought that these two could be one in the same was mind-boggling. Masquerade hadn’t been shy at all; he’d been the very picture of confidence, taking what he wanted without apology, dancing sensually and showing off that stunning, hard body.

That stunning, hard body that he shared with Jared.

Oh my God. They are the same person, Jensen realized. But if that were the case, why did Jared chase him off the second time Jensen had come to watch him dance? Jensen mulled all this and more over as he turned to watch the dancers on the television. Jared was staring, rapt.

“Is this a tango?” Jensen asked, more interested in Jared than the show.

“Oh, yeah,” Jared answered without hesitation. “This is an Argentine Tango.” Jared went off on a long spiel about why Argentine Tango varied from other types of Tango.

Bingo! Jensen thought. One more point in the Jared/Masquerade conspiracy theory. Jared obviously knows a lot about dance.

Not all that invested in the differences in the dancing styles, Jensen distracted Jared by kissing him again. As before, the kissing grew hot and heavy, the dancing on the television forgotten – and Jensen decided to risk it.

He pulled Jared’s lower lip between his teeth and nibbled on it a bit, a move he’d learned last night that Jared really, really liked. Jared reacted as Jensen hoped, becoming more aggressive and taking over control of the kiss.

God, but Jensen loved Jared’s dominant side. He’d have to find new and exciting ways to make Jared go all cave-man on him. He wanted to see Jared dance for him the way he had in the club, all sex-appeal and self-assured, pulling Jensen against his taller, broader body and rubbing against him like an animal claiming its territory, and Jensen couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.

"Jared," Jensen breathed. “Are you Masquerade?”

Jared reeled backwards, and Jensen mourned the loss of Jared’s lips so close to his. Jared’s eyes were wide, and to Jensen’s horror, he looked scared.

“How do you - how did you-" Jared stopped for a moment to catch his breath, his face pale. "Did you know this whole time?" Jared demanded to know. His hands were shaking and the words were forced and breathless.

Tact, Jensen admonished himself. Jesus. Look it up, Ackles. Guilt flooded Jensen and he reached out a hand to Jared, but Jared backed away from it like it would bite.

"Well, no, not at first," Jensen tried to explain, hoping to calm Jared down. “But then after last night, seeing you dancing in the bar, and then this morning and the alley that night that we met, I kind of figured it out. Then of course there was Masquerade, who is just about the hottest thing I've ever seen. And wouldn't you know it, but the Masquerade has the same skin tone as you, the same ripped abs, and the same mole right next to your nose. I'm not Lois Lane, Jared. It might have taken me a while, but eventually I did put two and two together." He moved into Jared's space again. "Dance for me, Jared? Please? Without the mask?"

Jensen expected Jared to be a little reticent, but he did not expect what happened next. Jared pushed away and grabbed a hoodie from the back of the couch, putting it on haphazardly and frantically. At the same time Jared’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if Jared was struggling with being able to talk at all.

“Jared, where are you going?"

Jared’s hand flew to his head and fisted in his own hair. Looking at Jared, Jensen noticed that Jared’s eyes were threatening to spill over with unshed tears. Jared blinked furiously to get it under control.

“Jared, I’m sorry,” Jensen tried, growing desperate. Jared growled in frustration and his hand went to his throat, sliding up the length of it before moving his hand in the air as if he had a sock puppet, shaking his head back and forth the entire time. Scowling, Jared stormed over to his computer desk and grabbed a piece of unopened mail and a pencil.

I have to go, Jared wrote before thrusting the envelope at Jensen, his face flushed with either anger or embarrassment, Jensen couldn't be sure.

"Jared, please don't go. I'm sorry - I didn't mean to upset you, please?" Jensen was aware that it sounded like he was begging. “Maybe I should go?”

Jared scrawled more on the envelope and then handed it to Jensen.

No, please, stay. Just let me take the dogs on a short walk. I’ll be back and then we’ll talk. Please don’t go.

“Okay,” Jensen said, figuring he’d just let Jared do what he needed to do calm himself down and find his words again. Suddenly he remembered something Jared had said to him during their first date, that sometimes he lost his words when he was too stressed out, and Jensen felt a fresh wave of guilt that he’d been the cause of it this time.

Jared walked to the door, rattled the leashes until his dogs came prancing over excitedly, and then Jensen watched him walk out the door.




Jensen waited, restless on the couch. Jared had to come back; this was his apartment after all. The television was still stuck on that stupid dancing show.

Jensen changed the channel and then fell back against the cushions with a sigh. He should have let Jared come to him with his secret. The thing was, Jensen was sure that if Jared kept something like that a secret that he’d have a good reason for it.

No wonder Jared had been out of sorts when Jensen had sneaked back stage at his performance that last time. He was probably scared of Jensen figuring it out.

Time passed. Jensen considered leaving, but then he looked down at the envelope with Jared’s scrawled handwriting on it that he’d thrown onto the coffee table after Jared had left.

Please don’t go.

Jensen stayed. After a while he heard the doorknob turn and the front door opened. Jared was back with the dogs; color high in his cheeks from the exercise. Jensen stood up to greet him.

“Jared,” Jensen breathed Jared’s name like it was a prayer, almost, relieved that Jared had come back. Jared didn’t say anything, just reached down and unhooked the dogs’ leashes. They promptly found resting places on the living room floor and watched Jensen as if they too were curious as to what was going to happen.

“J-Jensen,” Jared responded with Jensen’s own name, and Jensen felt a flood of emotion roar through him that Jared was talking.

“Look, Jared, I shouldn’t have said—“

Jared strode determinedly over to Jensen and kissed him. Jensen blinked in surprise, but returned the kiss nonetheless.

“Let’s sit and talk, okay?” Jared said.

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen said.

“So, I owe you an apology,” Jared said. Jensen’s head jerked up and he opened his mouth to argue, but Jared held up one long finger and Jensen was silent, almost as if Jared had stolen his words. “I should have just told you who I was, but I—I’ve had some bad experiences that I’ll tell you about someday, and my ex actually dumped me when he found out I danced. I didn’t want that to happen again.”

Jensen arched an eyebrow. Anyone who’d dump someone like Jared over the kind of dancing he did was an idiot.

“Yeah, well, I was unforgivably rude to you last time you came to see me dance, and I’m sorry,” Jared had managed to make himself look almost small, sitting across the couch from Jensen with his shoulders hunched and his face down.

“Jared,” Jensen said. “Look at me? I’m a grown man; I can take it if someone is a little mean to me. I mean, yeah, I was confused about it but I think Masquerade’s – no, I think your dancing is super hot, and you should be proud of it. I’m not leaving just because you dance. If anything, I’d like to see more of it, and I’d be proud to say that my boyfriend is a dancer. Especially if that dancer is you.”

“Boyfriend?” Jared asked, looking up at Jensen with the beginning of a cheeky smile. Jensen smiled back. Leave it to Jared to fixate on that one word over all the rest.

“Yes, Jay, boyfriend,” Jensen said, trying the nickname out, letting it roll across his tongue and hoping he’d become familiar with it.

In the next moment he had Jared practically in his lap, kissing him senseless.

Jensen thought he could get used this whole boyfriend thing.