don't be dull, be fannish

So when Jensen comes back from his mandatory five day nondenominational holiday break and finds the door to the office adjoining his decorated with cut outs from a sea otter calendar, a bunch of dog photos, and a copy of some new age version of the scientific method, he knows the introductory lab students are totally fucked. It's just common sense.

Even though they're sharing an office door – one that Jensen makes sure to keep locked – Jensen doesn't see the new lab instructor for the next four days. Every time he goes to get a cup of coffee or to check on the frogs in the lab, though, the sea otters have increased in number. On Monday, the day before classes start, they're joined by a dolphin, a tiger, and a plush bat, thumb-tacked to the door through one wing. Jensen's very tempted to liberate it into the trash can. He doesn't.

"What do you seek?" he asks the pilgrim of the day. One of the ducks quacks irritably at him, which doesn't really help the wisdom-of-the-ages routine.

"I need advice," says the pilgrim.

"Tell me of your troubles," says Jensen. He feels like a douche, but people expect monks to be dignified.

Of course, the ducks are still pecking him, so it's not really an ideal situation for dignity.

Jared has been in love with Jensen Ackles ever since he saw him in the fall musical. They did Kiss Me, Kate and Jensen was pretty much the best thing Jared had ever seen. He feels like a stupid high school cliche, the freshman in love with the popular senior. It's not like Jensen is the captain of the football team or anything (although the football captain actually is dating a freshman, so maybe he'd be better off that way), but he's got a lot of friends, and there are all these girls who go to all his performances and cheer really loud for his bows. Jared does too, but he cheers really loud for everyone and is just generally enthusiastic, so no one's really noticed that he spends about 90% of his day trying to figure out a way to make Jensen Ackles love him.

Jared shoves their beds back together the next day.

"I've got to already be infected," he points out. "Plus, you're going to class and infecting everyone else. You're the little plague monkey that could."

It's he and Jensen alone in the room, the soft whir of the mainframe the only sound. Jensen's standing there rapt, ensnared, face turned up ... and when Jared focuses he can see the code stream over him like a waterfall.

Jensen's code. His own code, where his hand rests on Jensen's neck. Twining together.

That got Jensen looking up at him, and the look in his eyes hit Jared right in the heart, making his breath catch in his throat and his blood pulse hard through his body. Only he'd seen that look directed at him from Jensen before, seen it hundreds of times before but never really understood it.

"Oh god," he whispered. "How long have you been in love with me?"

And now this guy, who really doesn’t act like any hooker Jared’s ever fucked around with, is making Jared stay in bed while he calls the kitchen and demands soup and juice. He’s pretty sure he heard Jensen ordering the concierge to keep the hallway clear of noise and guests so that Jared could get some uninterrupted sleep. It’s possible that Jensen isn’t real at all. That he’s some kind of angel. And that Jared’s meant to marry him.

Of course, he’d have to stop being a hooker for Jared to marry him. He has standards, after all. Or, rather, his mother does. It wouldn’t be that hard to get Jensen to quit, though, he figures. He’s a good guy, and he seems to like Jared. He could propose, over dinner, that Jensen leave his current pimp, or handler, or whatever the fuck he calls the guy who books his appointments. He could offer to buy out Jensen’s contract, all romantic-comedy, grand-gesture style, and then rip it up symbolically, just before sweeping Jensen up in his arms and carrying him over the threshold of the house that once felt too empty, and is now full of Jensen and love.

"You know, there's a guy lying in your hallway. Right in the middle. I thought maybe he was dead at first."

"That's Chad," Jared says.

"Oh," Jensen replies, like that's some kind of explanation, like everyone has a Chad.

Then Jensen's laughing like an escaped mental patient, straddling him for a better angle and shoving the pillow at him so hard Jared maybe almost starts to worry about his own safety, in between bouts of laughing his ass off. He gets one stalky mouthful of feathers through cloth before wrestling the murder weapon away and tossing it across the room, where it bounces off the wall and lands on a pile of old laundry.