Can't you see we're meant to be: Frankie the Turtle strikes again 3/7
“Awesome,” Jared says happily. “I’m so glad you said yes, Jensen.”
"I’m just glad we’re on the same page,” Jensen says, relief making him a little giddy. “Listen, I know the perfect place. I’ll pick you up--7:30 tomorrow night, does that sound good? I can get us reservations at this great restaurant I know downtown. Amazing food, great music, and better wine. You'll love it, I promise." Jensen knows he’s babbling, but holy shit, Jared said yes. That warrants a little babbling.
Jared barely hesitates. “I can’t wait,” he says warmly, and his eyes drop to Jensen’s lips again before he licks his own. Jensen has a moment of hope, but he’s not too disappointed when Jared bites his lip and steps back. Jared’s interest is clear now, so clear that Jensen doesn’t know why he was so nervous this morning. He should have known Jared would at least give him a chance.
Over the past months, Jensen has seen Jared work his hardest to make sure every single animal in the shelter has felt some kind of love, even if that particular animal hated him or was afraid of him. They always came around. Every. Single. Time. And each one he cared for was soon adopted by someone who could love and care for them just as he did. Jared is a goddamn miracle, and there's no one on this earth that Jensen would rather spend his time with than him. He just hopes that he’s not Jared’s latest project, that this is the start of something real.
"7:30 it is," says Jared, interrupting Jensen’s self-doubts. "I look forward to it.” He cocks his head slyly. “Can I interest you in a hotdog to tide us over?"
Jensen laughs, nodding. "Sure, why not. But this time I’m buying."
Jared nonchalantly grasps Jensen's hand, and they walk down the street together in companionable silence that Jensen's mind quickly fills with every single thing that could possibly go wrong between now and tomorrow night. What if Jared hates the restaurant? What if he hates Jensen for picking the wrong restaurant? What if-- Jared senses that something’s wrong as Jensen’s steps slow, so he stops, tugging on Jensen’s hand to get his attention.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Jared sounds so sincere, but how can Jensen be sure?
Jensen frowns, hesitates. "Is this... Is tomorrow gonna be a...date?"
The question catches Jared off guard. He blinks before his pretty pink lips curl up into that beautiful grin yet again.
"Yeah, sure!" Jared regards him curiously. "Why not?"
Jensen sweats, nervous. "I was just--well. I don’t even know if you’re gay, and we’ve been just friends so far so--"
"You're being too serious,” Jared tells him firmly. “So let's do something fun. Race you to the hot dog stand?"
"Jared, I--"
"Loser has to pay! Ready?"
There's no arguing as Jared drops Jensen's hand and starts a ridiculously exaggerated series of stretches, smiling and laughing the whole time, dragging a reluctant laugh out of Jensen as well. Jensen does a few warmups as well so that Jared isn’t being silly alone, and before long a few others stop and join them. One of Jensen’s favorite things about Austin is the stay weird mentality, and he’s suddenly grateful for the chance that brought him here from Dallas.
Jensen’s yanked from his thoughts as Jared begins an exaggerated count down from 5, and then all bets are off. They both bolt forward, cheered on by their warm up companions, dodging the few people still out on the street at this time of the evening.
A quick glance shows Jared right beside him, neck and neck. His legs are longer, and that gives him an advantage that he seems quite sure will net him a win. Too bad Jensen’s never mentioned that he was on the track team in college, and has kept up his running ever since. He smirks at Jared and puts on a sudden burst of speed, passing Jared and beating him to the stand by a good ten seconds.
For just a second, Jared looks mildly miffed before grabbing Jensen into a hug and keeping his arm around Jensen’s shoulders the whole time they order. He makes a huge show of paying for both hotdogs, loudly declaring this their first date since he’s paying. The hotdog vendor mutters something like about time under her breath, but smiles at their antics and leaves them to enjoy their dinner in peace.
****
Tonight is the night.
Jensen checks his watch for the 23rd time, sees that it's still only 7:27, and swears under his breath that time must be standing still. He's at the restaurant, patiently waiting for Jared to make an appearance since he’d begged off having Jensen pick him up. Jensen has already spoken with the hostess, double checking their reservation and making sure they’ve got a corner table so that Jared has plenty of room for his absurdly long legs. He’d seen that the restaurant isn’t too busy tonight, which helped settle his nerves. At least if Jared rejects him there will be fewer people to witness his embarrassment, which was why Jensen had chosen to come here during the week instead of the weekend.
The restaurant he’d chosen is usually bustling on Friday and Saturday nights, popular with couples celebrating anniversaries and business men and women trying to impress clients. And, as Jensen well knows, with men trying to impress their dates. One of Jensen’s ex-boyfriends, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, had brought him here frequently early on, trying to wow him with his money and taste. And it had worked, to a certain extent--not only had Jensen fallen readily into Jeff’s bed, he’d worked even harder for him, doing anything necessary to earn the older man's approval. His history with this place had almost convinced him to bring Jared somewhere else, but in the end he’d decided it was time to make new memories instead, memories he and Jared can look back on fondly over the years. Besides, he knows the head waiter, the chef and the wine concierge personally, and those friendships had allowed him to guarantee a meal Jared would never forget.
Jensen glances down at his watch again, trying to shake off thoughts of Jeff and his brand new wife, living in New York on the proceeds of Jensen’s hard work. Jensen doesn’t regret buying the company from Jeff even one little bit, but he does resent the years he’d spent turning the business around and driving up the value, only to pay for it all in the end.
Dammit. He needs to loosen up a bit. Jeff is the last person he wants to be thinking about while he’s waiting for Jared--or worse yet, while he’s with Jared.
"What would Jared do?" He asks himself as happy couples slip past him, laughing and smiling. That’s going to be him and Jared if he has to kidnap Jared and instigate Stockholm Syndrome.
"There’s a view that never gets old.” Jared’s voice, behind him. Jensen blushes when he realizes what Jared means, that he’s looking at Jensen’s ass appreciatively and doesn’t care who knows.
But when Jensen turns around, he barely recognizes the man in front of him, because Jared isn't dressed in jeans and sneakers the way Jensen had half expected. No button down plaid, or cozy sweater to match Jensen’s. Oh, no, sir.
No, Jared looks immaculate, dressed head to toe in perfection. An all black suit with a crisp, clean, white button up shirt and matching black Jimmy Choos that probably cost more than Jensen’s up to the minute smart phone. Speechless, Jensen turns his eyes to Jared’s face and his gorgeously styled hair--no more man bun or beanie, just beautiful caramel waves framing his face and highlighting every feature to perfection.
Jared blushes at Jensen’s open admiration, even the tip of his nose turning adorably pink when Jensen says, breathless, “You look amazing.”
"Not as good as you do,” Jared demurs, and Jensen glances down at himself--black jeans, soft green sweater, his best boots.
"Next to you I look like a kid playing dress up," Jensen says wryly. “Where did you find that suit?” Jensen fingers the soft material of Jared’s sleeve in something akin to awe. “I’m pretty sure this costs more than my yearly salary.”
"It was just something I had around,” Jared says, blushing again. “I brought you something for later,” he adds, clearly hoping to distract Jensen.
Jensen allows himself to be distracted, not wanting to make Jared uncomfortable. He takes Jared’s arm a little shyly as they approach the hostess desk. “Reservation for Tristackles,” he tells her, just to hear Jared laugh.
It works, and the strange moment is broken, though Jensen’s curiosity remains. How did a man who spends all his time in ragged shorts and t-shirts afford a suit like that? He pushes the thought aside to pull Jared’s chair out for him. Jared smiles down at him in surprise, that sweet flush rising up his cheeks again as Jensen sits down across from him. Jared sits the white bag on the table carefully, and Jensen raises an eyebrow, letting his curiosity show.
Jared follows his gaze, grinning. "Yeah. I picked up a little something along the way. My Uber driver was kind enough to let me do a little shopping. My car shit the bed this morning; it's in the shop right now."
"Oh, okay. So...what's in the bag there?"
"You'll just have to wait and see," Jared replies mysteriously, winking at him. “Maybe for dessert.”
Their waiter arrives shortly, and Jensen asks for the wine he'd requested for their meal. It's a rarer vintage, but to his surprise Jared immediately perks up, asking the waiter for a specific year. The waiter’s smile widens, and he assures Jared that they do indeed have a single bottle in the cellar, reserved specifically for the Tristackles party. While the waiter goes to get their drinks Jared, Jared looks around in surprise, noticing for the first time that there are no menus on their table.
"Looks like they forgot to bring us menus," he comments, looking around to catch a nearby waiter's eye.
