Chapter Text
Jared doesn’t close the coffee shop often these days. After all, he is the owner of Café Lilou, and after seven years of working more than sixty hours a week, he can allow himself to have the evenings free and leave the coffee shop to one of his employees. But with Christmas coming, the mid-terms exams, and a worker who’s on medical leave because of mononucleosis, Jared has trouble filling the schedule.
He doesn’t really mind, though. It’s a Sunday evening, and for the past couple of hours the only clients Jared has had were a group of college students. The shop closes at nine, and come eight thirty it’s empty. Jared has taken the opportunity to start some of the tasks that are usually done once the place is closed, while making sure everything he needs to serve his clients is still working. If everything goes well he should be able to leave before ten thirty. He’s had a long day, and all he wants is to relax and drink a beer while channel surfing before going to bed.
Jared serves himself another coffee with a lot of sugar in it. He looks around and sighs. For him, knowing that he owns this small but successful business never gets old. It’s his place, his life. He'd bought the empty premises located in downtown Pawnee after he had finished college, with a little financial aid from his father. A lot of people thought he’d been crazy, opening a coffee shop two streets away from a Starbucks, with a McDonalds just down the block, but Jared had worked hard to distinguish himself. He serves good coffee, only fair trade grains that are ground using the traditional method. The large centennial coffee grinder is located in the shop, and his patrons get to watch the baristas using it to compose an array of blends.
Jared also sells different products, all locally made: candies and paintings, wood sculptures, even poetry books and cd’s. He wants to encourage the local economy –the only things that aren’t produced in Pawnee or its surroundings are his coffee beans. When he had opened Café Lilou, he had a very distinct vision, and he had known there was a potential clientele for it.
He’d been right, although it had taken almost three years before he started to make a profit. He'd made some sacrifices. He’s almost thirty, but he still lives in the small bachelor apartment he moved into when he started college, and has been single most of those seven years, his longest relationship having lasted eight months. He doesn’t regret it. Well, most of the time he’s fine with it. It is true that sometimes he thinks he’d like to wake up with someone by his side, but he’s still young, and now that the coffee shop is well established, he can make more time for himself. He’s learning to “let go”, as his friend Tahmoh would say. Sometimes, Tahmoh jokes that Jared fears the Café Lilou will vanish into thin air if he stays away from it for too long.
Maybe Tam is not that far from the truth -figuratively, of course.
Jared takes a sip of coffee and goes into the storage room to get the mop. When he’s back, pushing the large rolling bucket, he realizes it’s already nine. No one in sight on this cold night. Jared walks to the door, turns the sign from “open” to “closed”, and gets his keys to lock up. He’s still rummaging in his pocket when a silhouette approach rapidly, cutting through the rapidly falling snow. It’s a man, wrapped in a heavy winter coat, with a hat shoved on his head almost hiding his eyes, and a scarf that covers his mouth and nose.
The man says something that is muffled by his scarf and the glass door, and Jared has to guess that he’s asking if the shop is closed.
He nods, shrugging with a “sorry” expression.
The man lowers his scarf. He’s doing this little funny dance, jumping on his heels without his feet leaving the ground. “Please, man, I have to use the bathroom.”
Jared is naturally a trusting kind of guy –which, he thinks, might have something to do with his shape: being six feet four with wide shoulders often gives away the impression that he could beat up someone quite easily, even though he’s the biggest klutz in town. Long story short: he’s not scared easily, and there is something desperate in the man’s voice that isn’t fake –well, at least, Jared doesn’t think it is.
Jared opens the door and make way for the stranger in need of the bathroom.
The guy runs –well, it’s more little jumping dance than anything else- straight inside. He’s already taking his mittens, hat and scarf off and doesn’t even slow down to look at Jared. He drops his stuff on a table then freezes so suddenly that Jared feels he’s going to fall forward. Either his coat is really strangely designed, or the guy is carrying some serious extra poundage, all located in front.
“Where?” he asks Jared, looking around like a deer caught in the headlights.
Jared stays silent for a second, having no idea what the guy wants to know. Then, he remembers and points toward the left.
“There, first door to-“
“Thanks,” the man cuts him off and disappears at the end of the hallway.
Jared wonders if he could have a medical condition. He hasn’t had the time to see him properly. His voice had sounded young, and his skin is pale, but that’s about it.
Jared waits next to the pile of winter items left on the table, still a little shocked by the whole thing. He doesn’t have to stare into emptiness, a little confused, for too long, because soon enough, the man comes back from the bathroom, a huge smile on his face. Jared figures immediately why he had seemed to have this strange, misshapen body, so large in the front, because the winter coat is open, and it’s obvious that the guy is pregnant, his huge belly sticking out, looking like it's stretching the cotton shirt that covers it to the max.
As Pregnant Stanger gets closer, Jared realizes another thing: he’s astonishingly beautiful: his face is round, but it’s subtle, like all the weight he had put on has gone strictly to the belly. The features are delicate and perfectly defined: full, red lips, a straight nose with well-shaped nostrils, big, expressive eyes that are… in a second or two Jared will be able to tell. Green, yes, and when they blink, Jared admires the long and dark, curly lashes brushing against the pale skin.
Pregnant Gorgeous Stranger is now only a foot away from Jared, who is still frozen in place –like, really frozen, he’s convinced that if he tries to move, his feet will stay planted on the ground and he'll collapse like a broken statue.
The man's hair is mussed, of an undefined light brown that looks blonder under the light. He has freckles on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose, and Jared can’t resist freckles –he never could. He looks to be in his mid-twenties. He’s tall -not as tall as Jared, but what else is new? Now that he has used the bathroom, he's no longer dancing from one foot to the other, although his stance is a little uncertain, and his legs are parted in a way that suggests bowlegs, but it might only be because of the weight he carries in front.
Pretty Enough To Be A Model Pregnant Stranger is talking, Jared realizes. He tries to snap out of his reverie.
“… so sorry about this, thank you so much, you saved my life. The kid’s favorite sport is to riverdance on my bladder, and like… I have to pee every ten minutes, and I was taking a walk, because my doctor says I’m not doing enough exercise, and of course I peed before I left my place, but then ten minutes later I needed to go. You can’t believe how unbearable it is. One second I’m fine, and the next I feel like I just drank a freaking pool of water, and it hurts, and that’s not the worst –I knew that if I didn’t find a bathroom soon I would have peed myself and… oh. god.”
The man blushes as suddenly as he had stopped talking. He scratches the back of his head and snorts. It’s adorable.
Jared figures he should say something, and he’s about to do it when the guy goes on. “Sorry, I talk a lot. I've got no filter, and it’s worst when I’m nervous, and now, I am nervous because I just exposed my peeing habits to a perfect stranger and… See? There I go again. I should shut up. I’m shutting up.”
“I’m Jared Padalecki,” is all Jared can think of saying, because, suddenly, it seems very important to him to learn the man’s name. He stretches a hand.
“Jensen. Jensen Ackles,” Jensen Ackles answers, grabbing Jared’s hand and shaking it vigorously.
Jensen.
Jensen. It’s a pretty name. Jared likes it. A lot.
“I’m glad I could be of service, Jensen.”
“My god, you totally were!” Jensen explains, patting his belly.
He seems a little short of breath, and Jared doesn’t want him to go, not now.
“Would you like to sit for five minutes? You look a little tired. Or maybe you should call your husband, so he can come and get you.”
Jensen doesn’t hesitate. He drags a chair out and sits on it, careful to hold onto the back as he lowers himself slowly, hissing between his teeth. “Maybe I should wait a couple of minutes before heading back. I live like… ten minutes away from here, and I don’t have anyone to come and get me so… Wait. That sounded pathetic. What I meant to say is that I’m single, it’s just me and this little dancer,” he points at his bulge, smiling. He has the brightest smile Jared has ever seen. It makes the corner of his eyes crinkle.
And Jared feels that warm sensation deep inside his belly, hearing that Jensen is single. What the hell is happening to him? It’s like he’s fallen in love sometime between opening the shop’s door and looking at Jensen Ackles carefully taking a seat.
It’s not… like. He is. Falling in love. Having the most intense crush in the history of crushes. Jared has loved before, but he’s never been instantly carried away by the feeling. He should feel sorry for Jensen, being single and pregnant, not opening an imaginary bottle of champagne.
“Do you want something to drink? Water? A coffee? It’s on the house.”
Jensen groans. “Don’t offer me coffee, please. It’s been nine months since I drank my last cup, and I still miss it every fucking day. The smell in here… it’s maddening. I’m an addict, no hope of ever being cured. When the baby’s finally born, I’ll ask for a freaking coffee pot and suck it all down with a straw.”
Jared smiles. “Water, then? Milk? Hot chocolate?”
He can see Jensen’s eyes lighten up at the mention of chocolate. Then he licks his lips. Jared has to take a deep breath to get his libido under control. “Hot chocolate it is.”
“With whipped cream on top?” Jensen asks hopefully. “And a little bit of cinnamon sprinkled on the- wait. No. You were closing. I’m holding you here. I’ll just have water and then-“
“Hot chocolate it is,” Jared repeats, clapping his hand together. “Look, it’s my pleasure. I’m the owner of the place, I can do whatever I want.”
He’s so concentrated on making the damn best hot chocolate in the world he doesn’t hear Jensen standing up and walking to the counter.
“Really? This shop is all yours?”
Jared jumps and turns on his heels. Jensen has taken his winter coat off and is leaning against the counter, staring at a pile of brownies under the cake bell next to the cash register.
“Yes. It’s going to be seven years in March.
“So, tell me Jared, how do you pronounce the name of your place? Café like in French, I get it, but… Lilou?”
It sounds like Lyle –loo. Jared is used to it.
“Leeloo,” he corrects, dropping a huge spoon of whipped cream on the top of the warm chocolate. “It’s a French name for girls. I though it sounded… distinguished, when I choose it. I knew a Lilou in college. She was from France. The name, that’s the French way to write it, but the pronunciation is the same, more or less.”
“Lee-loo,” Jensen says in a low voice, a little scratchy and sexy as hell. “That girl must have been important to you if you named your coffee shop after her.”
Jensen winks, but he doesn’t seem sincere in his teasing –or maybe Jared is just imagining things. He answers quickly, eagerly. “She was a good friend, but I’m gay so…” He shrugs.
Jensen has a quirked up smile, and Jared must be crazy, because he’s almost sure he saw relief in Jensen's eyes. He concentrates on the plate he’s filling with the chocolate, a couple of brownies and a glass of milk for him, then invites Jensen to sit back at the table.
“Those are for me, right?” Jensen has already a plastic fork in his hand, and he points it at the brownies.
“Of course,” Jared agrees. He was about to take one for himself, but Jensen has already dragged the plate toward him. Jared suppresses a laugh.
“I never saw you around here, even though you said you love coffee and live pretty close.”
“Maybe I prefer the Starbuck down the street,” Jensen says, then smiles wickedly. “Naw. I moved here five months ago, so I’m new to the area, and I do my best to avoid coffee shops. It’s too tempting. Don’t you worry, I’ll be a very regular customer as soon as the baby’s born. You’ll get tired soon enough of my stupid face.”
Jared has the sudden need to compose an ode to Jensen’s totally not stupid face. He clears his throat. “It seems like it will be pretty soon. When is your due date?”
“First of January. And I already look like I’m about to explode. I don’t know how I’m going to get through three more weeks of swollen feet and gastric reflux and peeing every five minute, not being able to find a comfortable position to sleep, or to sleep at all for that matter. And hemorrhoids are, literally, a pain in the ass.”
Jensen covers his mouth with his hand. His cheeks are of a deep cherry color. Jared can’t help but snigger.
“See?” Jensen asks, uncovering his mouth so that he can attack the second brownie. “No filter. You didn’t need to know about my hemorrhoids. The thing is… well, I've made some friends since I moved here, like the awesome girl that lives next door in my building, but I’m used to… Back in Kansas, I have a huge family, and friends that I have known since kindergarten. It’s hard, sometimes, spending days without having a real conversation, that’s not over the phone or on Skype, and I’m used to talking a lot, so, yes, when I get the chance, the absence of filter is aggravated. Long story short, I say everything that pops into my mind.”
“Did you move here because of work?”
“Yes. Oh. Oh my god this is like… the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had,” Jensen moans through his mouthful. He has a layer of melted whipped cream on his upper lip and licks it clean.
Jared looks away, because damn it, he’s getting hard. Like a teenager. He feels like he could come just from watching Jensen making love to his hot chocolate.
“Thank you,” he finally squeaks.
“No, thank you,” Jensen says enthusiastically. “And my baby girl appreciates too. Gosh, she’s kicking so hard, just like when I eat ice cream.”
Jensen pulls back from the table to show his belly. Jared stares, fascinated. He’d never thought a baby kicking could actually be seen, but there it is, a series of waves distorting Jensen’s shirt. He finds himself laughing too and stretches a hand before realizing what he’s doing. He pulls back, blushing. Jensen surely doesn’t want a stranger’s big, clumsy hand touching his belly.
“No, what are you doing? Go on! You’re going to miss it,” Jensen says, grabbing Jared’s hand and pressing it on the top of his belly. It’s a little awkward because Jared has to lift himself a few inches from his chair and finds his stomach pressed against the table, but he forgets it immediately when he feels something pushing against his palm. Not once, but three times in a row, the warm tensed skin of Jensen’s belly stretching, then rippling, like a wave. Jared smiles so hard he’s afraid he’s going to pull a muscle.
“Wow. This is the first time I… Wow…”
Jared pulls his hand back. He feels his heart hammering against his chest. What the hell is happening to him tonight?
Jensen Ackles is happening to you, that’s what.
“Thank you, for letting me,” he murmurs, staring into Jensen’s eyes.
Jensen stares back, biting his bottom lip. Jared knows right then that he’s not the only one feeling… whatever the hell he’s feeling. Love. Can love really happen that fast?
“Yeah, I got a job offer,” Jensen says quickly, and it takes a few seconds before Jared understands what he’s talking about. “I’m a blogger, and I do freelance on the side for other websites, and there’s this really funny one called ‘Deconstructing the Net’, heard of it?”
Jared shakes his head, feeling way too much disappointed at himself for it to be rational.
“It’s still small, but it’s been growing in popularity over the past couple of years. It the kind of website that explores the internet, finds the flaws and the hidden treasures. Sometimes the tone is funny, sometimes it’s very socially engaged. They were looking for a new editor, and they thought of me, because, apparently, my writing style and my blog are in the spirit of the website. The head office –if you can call it that, is located here in Pawnee. I couldn’t say no. Being a blogger doesn’t exactly makes you wealthy, and there is some potential for ‘Deconstructing the Net.’ I studied journalism in college, and I’m very excited about the whole thing. It’s like I’ve finally got my first serious job. Of course, the timing could have been better, with the pregnancy, as I was supposed to be followed very closely by the research chair of Wichita State University –they got me pregnant in the first place after all and-“
“Wait, what? The Wichita state university got you pregnant?” Jared must have heard wrong. Jensen speaks very quickly, barely taking the time to breathe between two sentences. It’s like he doesn’t have the capacity to stop once he gets going.
“Yes,” Jensen answers seriously. “Kind of,” he adds, winking at Jared. “That, my friend, is a long story and-“
“I’m in no hurry,” Jared cuts him off, not wanting that evening to end –like, ever- but maybe Jensen is tired, he shouldn’t push him. “But you’re probably eager to get back home,” he adds reluctantly.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, “Jensen replies quickly. Then he frowns. “Unless you want to get out of here, which would be completely understandable given that-“
“Got no place I need to be, and now that you just told me a university got you pregnant, I want to hear the story.” Jared smiles what he believes is his most charming one, all dimples out.
“Okay, so, as I was saying, it’s a long story and I’m gonna need some fuel,” Jensen looks sheepish. And I saw that pecan pie on the counter so… I’m going to pay for everything, you know.”
Jared claps his hands together and stands up. “Want some ice cream with it?”
“God yes,” Jensen exclaims like he’s been starving for days. “And maybe a huge glass of milk.”
“Coming right up.”
“Great. I’m going to visit the bathroom meanwhile.”
Jensen has some trouble getting up. The table they’re sitting at isn’t the most solid furniture and it starts wobbling on its uneven feet when Jensen transfers his weight on it, trying to push himself up with both arms. Jared doesn’t ask, just takes his left elbow and helps him up. For a moment, they stand there, face to face, Jensen’s elbow still resting in Jared’s palm.
Jared doesn’t know what the other man is thinking, but he’s staring at him intensely. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “I gotta…”
Jensen points toward in the bathroom direction. He’s blushing.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Jared snorts in a very not sexy way and let go of his elbow. By the way his cheeks are burning, he’s sure he’s blushing too.
It’s impressive, seeing how quickly Jensen eats his slice of pie, dragging his spoon on the plate to get the last drops of melted ice cream. Jared is known for his appetite –his gluttony, his mother would say- but he can’t win against Jensen and has only managed to eat three mouthful of his apple pie so far.
Jensen sighs in contentment when he’s finished and downs his glass of milk. “That was a fantastic pie,” he says with passion before leaning back against his chair, one hand resting on his stomach. “So,” he says with a little smile. “The Wichita State University did get me pregnant. Through artificial insemination.”
“Well, I had already figured you weren’t saying it literally,” Jared states.
“You’re a wise guy,” Jensen jokes, and Jared laughs like an idiot, because apparently, that’s what Jensen does to him.
“It’s been a while since I knew I wanted a kid,” he says softly. “And with my biological clock ticking forward, I didn’t want to miss my chance.”
Jared doesn’t understand. “But you’re… You can’t be more than twenty-five. Your biological clock should have calmed down.
“Dude, I’m thirty one,” Jensen says, lifting an eyebrow.
“What? No! That would make you older than me.”
Jensen seems to find Jared’s reply highly amusing. “I’m a carrier, it’s a biology thing.”
Jared knows. He’s had his anatomy and biology classes in high-school. Carriers are a lot more different from men than they appear. Of course, their hormonal system differs greatly, but they also share common physical characteristics. They tend to have delicate features and most of them don’t have enough body hair to even grow a beard. The average age of puberty is two years later than other boys, and a lot of them have younger looking features. It seems to have a correlation with the fact that their life expectancy is longer –not much though, but a year is still a year.
And that’s about everything Jared can remember from his high school class. Like all the other boys, he had a blood sample analyzed when he had turned fourteen, revealing that he wasn’t a carrier, and he'd never had a boyfriend that was one. Carriers count for only fifteen percent of the general male population.
“Have I lost you?” Jensen asks, bringing Jared back to the here and now. “Trust me, I’m thirty one. “
“I believe you.”
Jensen shrugs then, and starts to play with his fork. It takes a few seconds before he starts talking. “You know, most boys, when they have their genetic test done, they’re relieved to learn they aren’t carriers. It’s strange, but understandable. At fourteen, not everybody is certain about his sexual orientation, and discovering that you’re a carrier when you still don’t know you’re gay can be traumatizing.”
It’s another fact. 95% of the carriers are gay. It’s like nature has figured that it wouldn’t lead anywhere to give men the ability to conceive a child if they were mostly heterosexuals.
“And it’s not only that. Some people still consider us as freaks, even though it’s been more than two hundred years since the first documented case of male pregnancy.”
“I don’t,” Jared says quickly, because it seems crucial to him to let Jensen know.
“I can see that,” Jensen smiles, but his tone remain calm, more serious than it’s been since the beginning of their conversation. “Anyway, I didn’t feel that way. Don’t ask me why. When the results came back I felt… proud. Lucky, even, to have a body that would allow me to have a kid of my own. Like winning the lottery. I’ve always known it was something I wanted to do. It was in the back of my mind. But my love life hasn’t exactly been fulfilling. Longest relationship I ever had lasted eight… maybe ten months.”
Jared wants to lift his hand and say “high-five! Me too,” but he keeps silent, seeing how serious Jensen is suddenly.
“And you know, male carriers aren’t like women. There are very few pregnancies past thirty five years old. Seeing my thirties coming, the need to have a child got stronger, and I knew I would be running out of time. I told myself: screw it, and I decided to try artificial insemination. I didn’t want to miss my chance, you know?”
Jared has never felt the need to be a father. He wonders if it’s a hormonal thing, or a heterosexual thing, or if he’s just been too busy to have any personal life. The three options all seem valid.
“I heard artificial insemination is harder with guys than with women, like… the success rate is really low.”
“Ah! This is where the Wichita University comes in,” Jensen says, his eyes getting brighter. “There is a medical faculty there that specializes in research about male fertilization. They have developed new techniques –nothing freaky, frankenstein style, or cloning, or experimental drugs that would give you a kid with two heads. It’s safe –the worst that might happen would be not succeeding. They were looking for volunteers, and I decided to try –it was my only option anyway, because I never could have afforded a private fertilization clinic. The Medical Faculty doesn’t charge anything, but you have to agree to fill out never ending surveys and to be followed very closely by the batch of doctors that are working on the program. I was lucky. It worked on the second try.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, looking down at his belly and smiling, which is cute and adorable, and Jared feels hot all over. “Except that I got the job offer at the end of my first trimester, and they weren’t happy about it.”
“Well, you’re not a lab rat,” Jared replies, feeling a completely disproportionate anger at a bunch of doctors he never met.
“Exactly!” Jensen snaps his fingers. “In the end, we found a solution. They found an androcologist here that would collaborate with them, so I still have to fill out huge piles of paperwork and visit him once a week. And I have the job I wanted. It’s a tiny office on Peach Street, and the guys that are working there are awesome. They didn’t seemed bothered by my pregnancy. It’s a small team: four people, including me, and they can run the website without me for a couple of months.”
Jensen takes a deep breath and sighs. “…And I just now realized I practically told you the story of my life.”
“Naw, I don’t even know if you have any siblings, what’s your favorite meal, were you into sports in high school…” Jared jokes.
“One sister. Steak and no,” Jensen replies immediately.
They burst out laughing at the same time. Jared doesn’t want the evening to end, but he has the feeling it’s going to be the case soon. “Plus,” he says when his laugh has died down, “now you need to know everything about me, so that we’re even.”
“You are right,” Jensen says in an amused voice. “Let’s start with your name. Padalecki. It’s polish, right?”
“Yep. Third generation immigrant,” Jared says, pointing at his chest. “So I know basically nothing about Poland.”
“Is everyone in your family as huge as you are?”
There is something that could be lust, or at least desire, in Jensen’s eyes. That, or Jared’s imagination has gone crazy.
“My older brother is taller than me.”
“Really?”
“Six feet seven inches. Three more than me.”
“You’re still a giant,” Jensen declares, then adds quickly: “I mean that as a compliment. It’s… you’re tall, I like tall guys, but not –okay, time to shut up now.”
Jensen is red from his neck to the tip of his ears. If Jared is honest with himself, he kind of wants to know more about how he has a thing for tall guys, but he takes pity.
“There is not much to say about my life, really. Grew up here. Always known I wanted to have a place, to work with people. I studied management and bought this place six months after I graduated, with a little help from my dad. I practically live here. No boyfriend, not even a dog. I’m a boring person, really.”
“You’re everything but boring,” Jensen says with intent, like he’s stating an important truth. “And tonight, you saved me.”
“Well, I let you use the bathroom.”
“I would have peed myself!” Jensen exclaims. “The humiliation you saved me from is almost like saving my life.”
Jensen smiles at him like Jared is the world’s seventh wonder, then starts to wiggle on his chair.
“My back is killing me,” he admits. “Not that I’m not enjoying myself, but I should head back home.”
It’s almost ten thirty. Jared knows better than to insist. It still feels like his heart is breaking in tiny pieces, like Jensen is his soulmate ready to go on a long trip from which he might never come back.
I’m going crazy, Jared thinks very rationally.
“You want me to drive you back?” He offers, seeing as how it’s still snowing heavily outside.
“Naw. Seeing as I ate enough sugar to fall into a diabetic coma, a short walk will do me good. Trust me, I live barely ten minutes away from here. I’m a big boy.”
“I know that.”
Jensen is already up, putting on his coat. “I should say a huge boy,” he corrects when the zipper of his jacket slides very slowly over his belly, the seams on each side stretched to their maximum capacity.”
“You’re not huge. It’s… It suits you. The pregnancy, I mean. Well, not that I ever saw you before but…”
Jared should shut up, and that’s what he does. Jensen is blushing again, head lowered, seemingly concentrating totally on putting his mittens on.
They walk side by side to the door. And suddenly, Jared feels like choking. He doesn’t want to let Jensen go. He doesn’t want for it to be the only time they’ll see each other, and to hell with the fact that he never takes the first steps in his relationships, or that he’s so nervous he might very well faint right there.
“We should…” He begins, shutting up when he hears his voice, way higher than usual. He tries again. “Would you… Would you like to go out sometime? With me?”
Of course with you, idiot, geez, way to go, Jared.
Jensen lift his head and looks at him straight in the eyes. He has a soft expression on his face. “You know what?”
“What?” Jared squeaks –yeah, he downright squeaks, there is no other term to qualify the noise that just came out of his mouth.
“Ask me again when I won’t be carrying a dancing baby inside,” Jensen murmurs, pointing at his stomach. His voice is low, full of affection. Jared thinks he might be floating.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“You have your cell phone with you?” Jensen asks.
Jared shoves his hand in the back pocket of his jeans and grabs his phone, showing it to Jensen like it’s a freaking treasure.
“Here’s my number, Jensen says, before telling him slowly while Jared types eagerly. You’ll text me yours. I’ll need it in case I’m in need of an urgent brownies home delivery.”
“We don’t...”
“I know, silly. Anyway, don’t look like someone just kicked your puppy, Jared. With the hot chocolate you made me tonight, I have the firm intention of coming back. Maybe even tomorrow. I told you. You’re not done with seeing my stupid face.”
“Your face isn’t stupid.”
“And yours is gorgeous,” Jensen whispers boldly.
He grabs Jared’s shoulder and raises himself up to the tips of his toes. His lips are on Jared’s before he knows what’s happening. They are soft and warm, their taste a little sugary. It only last a second before Jensen pulls away, but Jared is sweating and filled with the urge to laugh hysterically. He gets it under control, tries to play it cool and opens the door for Jensen.
“It was nice meeting you, Jensen,” he says calmly, smiling at him.
“Yes, it was,” Jensen trails off.
They stare at each other for a few seconds, then Jensen readjusts his beanie and waves at him before walking out, quickly disappearing into the night.
Jared stays there, leaning his back against the door, already reliving the evening in his head.
It takes him a long time to close the shop. He keeps stopping, too busy thinking about Jensen.
He’s definitely in love.