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saoneTitle: The Exception
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saone77
Summary: AU. It's really all Jensen's fault.
Pairings: J2, with appearances from the cast of The Losers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 2216
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: This is what happens when you're trying to write two Losers fic while this series is always lurking in the background.
Chris has always known that, considering his career choice, there was a good chance his end would be violent and bloody. He had even given some thought as to how it might all go down, from the mundane - your standard shoot-em-up gunfight gone bad - to the awesome - sacrificing himself to save the lives of all of his teammates. And a school bus full of orphans. And kittens.
But he had never, not once, thought that the last sight he'd see in the world would be the very pissed off face of his boss, whose huge hand is wrapped like an iron band around Chris' throat. Chris' own hands are scraping desperately at Jared's and his feet are kicking out because, holy shit, he's actually been lifted off the floor.
Jared mad. Jared smash.
Chris is pretty sure he can hear Columbus, Idris, and Jeff yelling, but between the throbbing in his veins and the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, it's taking everything he's got to just stay conscious.
He'd been having such a nice morning, too. Happily munching on a pumpkin muffin, and joking with Columbus, he'd entered the situation room for the morning meeting where, instead of Jared's usually smiling countenance, Chris had encountered a brewing storm which seemed to get worse the more he opened his mouth. Chris had toned down his natural sarcasm, and began to only respond when spoken to, but that didn't seem to help Jared's mood. Then, in the middle of Jeff talking about Jensen's latest antics with that FBI guy, Jared had snapped, and Chris suddenly had six and a half feet and over two hundred pounds of muscle coming across the table towards him.
Some small, and probably oxygen-deprived part of Chris' brain is inordinately pleased he didn't pee himself, though, the morning is still young.
"Jared!" Jensen's voice is like a gunshot, cracking through the increasing haze in Chris' brain. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Jared releases his grip and Chris falls to the floor like a busted marionette. He feels hands under each arm and the reassuring solidity of Columbus and Idris haul him to his feet. He manages to raise his head and what he sees makes him kind of wish he had given in and blacked out when he had the chance.
Jared and Jensen are facing each other. Chris can't see Jared's face, but Jensen's expression of cold, barely restrained fury is enough to fuel nightmares - even Oscar, who must have fetched the ex-assassin, is backing away slowly. Chris isn't sure what's going on, or why he was targeted, but he does know that if those two go at it nothing, including the house, would be left standing.
"Get him out of here," Jensen says, and Chris' escorts start to move him.
"He's not going anywere," Jared practically growls.
Jensen cocks his head to one side. "We gonna tussle, Jay? Over this?" His eyes flick to someone beyond Chris' field of vision. "Take care of him."
Before Jared can say anything else, Chris is out the door and being moved swiftly towards Jeff's office.
"The fuck did you do?" Columbus whispers in his ear.
As the sounds of shouts and broken glass follow them down the hallway, Chris can't help but think that was a very good question.
***
"Ow," Chris croaks. "Ow. Ow. Fucking OW, dammit."
Idris finishes palpating Chris' throat, gives him a dispassionate look, and says, "he'll live."
"For now," Jeff says darkly. "So, Evans, any idea why the very, very bad man we work for just tried to pop your head like a champagne cork?"
Chris grimaces as he gingerly touches his neck. "Not a fucking clue," he says with complete honesty.
"Think, man," Columbus says, "there's got to be something."
"Dude, I haven't done anything! I swear. I haven't even tried sneaking any of his rainbow stripes since that time he caught me and broke my pinkie." Chris hates the slight whine that's creeped into his voice, but he can't help it. He's scared out of his mind.
Jeff gives him a hard stare, then nods. "All right. Here's what we're gonna do. Idris and I are gonna run interference while you go to your room and get a bag together. Pack essentials and fuck sentimentality because I want you ready to move out in under two minutes, clear?"
Chris nods.
"I've got a safehouse you can go to. Columbus and Oscar can take you there and then-"
"I'm staying with him," Oscar says.
"You don't have-" Chris swallows the rest of that sentence as Oscar pins him with a no-nonsense look.
"If the big boss is out for your blood, you're not going anywhere without someone watching your back," Oscar says. "¿Entienda?"
"Yeah. Thanks, man."
"All right," Jeff says, "let's move people."
They're ready to head out, Chris still leaning heavily on Columbus, when the door opens. Everyone tenses, but it's Jensen, not Jared, who walks in.
Without preamble he immediately walks over and does his own inspection of Chris' neck. "Jesus," he says softly, "Jay sure did a number on you. So fucking sorry about that, man. It will not happen again."
"We're taking him out of the house," Jeff says, "can we count on you?"
"'Course. But that won't be necessary." Jensen pats Chris' shoulder. "You'll be fine now."
"How are you so sure?" Chris asks. "I thought I was fine before and then, WHAM. I still don't know what I did to incite the whole 'homicidal rage' thing."
Jensen grimaces and walks to the other side of the room. "You didn't do anything."
"Then who did?" Jeff peers at the ex-assassin. "Jensen?"
Jensen rubs at the back of his neck and gives them all a lackluster smile. "Funny story... Jay and I were eating breakfast, and he mentioned how much he was looking forward to the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and that Johnny Depp was at the top of his 'Exception List', and-"
"Wait," Oscar cocks his head, "what is an exception list?"
Columbus answers, "it's a list of celebrities your spouse or partner has to let you sleep with, even though it'll never happen. Like, Angelina Jolie is on my exception list."
"Ah." Oscar turns back to Jensen. "And what does that have to do with Jared going, ah, batshit?"
Jensen blushes. Actually blushes. "Well, when he asked me for my exception list he didn't specify the celebrity part."
It takes a moment for the words to sink in, and when they do all heads turn towards Chris.
"You're a dead man," Idris says simply.
"No, he's not," Jensen insists.
"Yes, I am!" Chris says. "How could you... why would you... I thought we were friends, and all this time you've been secretly lusting after me."
"I haven't been lusting-"
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I am flattered. And terrified. Mostly terrified."
Jensen rolls his eyes. "There's been no lusting. It's all hypothetical. Hypothetically, if I wasn't with Jay, you would be an acceptable substitute."
"Acceptable..." Chris nods. "And the flattery's gone leaving behind just the terror. Thanks."
"Well, I'm sorry!" Jensen throws his hands into the air. "I spent over ten years doing the whole killer-for-hire thing, excuse me if I'm not well-versed in cutesy relationship-type shit."
"That's just great," Chris says, "you're sorry, and I'm still dead. There are certain things of Jared's you don't fuck with; his organization, his family, the candy stash he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk, and you."
"I'm going to ignore my ranking on that list," Jensen says dryly.
"And, you didn't actually fuck with him," Columbus says to Chris, "he just wants you to."
Jensen glares at him. "It was hypo... nevermind. And like I said, you'll be fine now. I've taken care of it. Jared and I talked it out."
Jeff clears his throat. "Not that we don't trust you, and your obviously aweseome judgment on things-"
"But how do we know that lover-boy's assurances weren't just to placate you," Idris finishes.
"Because, by 'talked it out' I mean I put him on his back and threatened to dust off my toolkit if he didn't cut out all this jealous shit."
"Yikes," Columbus says. "That should do it."
"It'd better." Oscar glares darkly at Jensen.
"I told you we should have killed him," Idris mutters to Jeff.
"Well," Chris says with a brightness he absolutely does not feel, "I'm still terrified. But slightly reassured. And, in the future, if you could please leave me out of your freaky relationship discussions, it would be greatly appreciated. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to my room, lock the door, and sob hysterically for a little while." Chris nods and manages to make it across the room without any assistance. He stops by Jensen and gives him a long, considering look, lingering on the other man's mouth. "Ours is a forbidden love-"
"Shut the hell up."
***
Chris does go back to his room, but he doesn't go on a crying jag. Instead, he packs a light bag that will stay at the bottom of his closet. Just in case. After that he locks his door, shoves a chair under the doorknob, downs a couple of old pain pills, and settles on his bed for a nap.
A sharp, rapping sound brings him back to consciousness. A quick glance at his watch shows that he's been asleep for almost four hours. He thinks he should feel at least a little refreshed, but instead he just feels more run down than he did before. Nearly getting killed can really take a lot out of a person.
The rapping sound comes again, a little harder and faster this time. It's someone at the door, probably Columbus or Oscar coming to check on him.
"Coming," Chris says, dragging himself out of bed. He's smiling. While the situation sucks, he can't help but anticipate the extra attention he'll probably be getting from his teammates. He's definitely going to be up for some pampering over the next few days.
Hoping that whoever's waiting in the hall has brought a treat, preferably ice cream considering the state of his throat, Chris moves the chair, and opens the door. And then promptly shuts it again. Or, he tries to, at least, but it just bounces off Jared's foot.
Chris absolutely does not scream, or cry, or faint as a glowering Jared makes his way into the room. He does position himself next to his dresser and the stash of weapons hidden under his boxers. He's not reaching for any knives or guns just yet, though. The homicidal rage that was in Jared's eyes earlier is missing. Instead, there's a resigned expression on the larger man's face, and a thin, angry, red ligature mark around his throat.
"So," Jared says. "Nice room."
"Thanks?"
"I like the... colors."
Chris glances around. "Yeah."
"Blues are nice."
"I think so."
There's a very loud cough from the hallway just beyond the door frame.
"I'm getting to it!" Jared yells.
"Get to it quicker!" Jensen yells back.
Jared makes a very rude gesture towards the open doorway, then turns back to Chris. He clears his throat. "Uh, I'm... sorry... I tried to kill you earlier."
Chris nods. "I, um, okay." He waits, but Jared doesn't make any move to leave. "Thanks?" he says again.
"There's more," Jensen calls out.
Jared scowls. "I"m supposed to get to know you better," he says. "Jensen thinks if we," Jared crooks the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand and makes air quotes, "bond, I'll be less likely to want to slice your face off. Though, I have to say, I'm getting more and more okay with the thought of you taking him off my hands."
"I heard that!"
"You were supposed to!"
"Guys!" Chris winces and gingerly touches his throat. "Jared, thank you for not killing me, and I would appreciate if you could keep on not killing me in the future, but you don't have to worry about me coming between you and Jensen. Ever. I'm not stupid, or suicidal, and to try and come between the two of you I'd have to be both. You guys are... you're pretty awesome together."
"Oh." Jared's entire countenance changes, and that sunny smile Chris had missed at the meeting makes an appearance. "Gee, maybe you're not so bad."
"Told you," Jensen says, leaning through the doorway.
"Yeah, yeah." Jared claps Chris on the shoulder and nearly sends him careening into the wall. "Take the week off, okay? And when you come back we'll have a few beers, maybe catch a game or something. You a Cowboys fan?"
Chris can see Jensen frantically nodding in the background.
"Uh, yes?" Patriots forever, bitch.
"Awesome!" Jared beams at him. "So, again, you know, sorry about the whole..." Jared waves his hand in the general vicinity of Chris' neck, then sort of bounds out of the room.
Chris is left staring at Jensen "What the hell just happened?"
"Told you I'd take care of it."
"Yes, you did," Chris says. "I'll never doubt you again," he pauses and a devilish smirk forms on his face, "secret lover."
"Keep that up and I'll kill you myself."
"Sorry. Baby."
"Oh, shut up."
***
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:
saone77Summary: AU. It's really all Jensen's fault.
Pairings: J2, with appearances from the cast of The Losers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 2216
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: This is what happens when you're trying to write two Losers fic while this series is always lurking in the background.
Chris has always known that, considering his career choice, there was a good chance his end would be violent and bloody. He had even given some thought as to how it might all go down, from the mundane - your standard shoot-em-up gunfight gone bad - to the awesome - sacrificing himself to save the lives of all of his teammates. And a school bus full of orphans. And kittens.
But he had never, not once, thought that the last sight he'd see in the world would be the very pissed off face of his boss, whose huge hand is wrapped like an iron band around Chris' throat. Chris' own hands are scraping desperately at Jared's and his feet are kicking out because, holy shit, he's actually been lifted off the floor.
Jared mad. Jared smash.
Chris is pretty sure he can hear Columbus, Idris, and Jeff yelling, but between the throbbing in his veins and the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, it's taking everything he's got to just stay conscious.
He'd been having such a nice morning, too. Happily munching on a pumpkin muffin, and joking with Columbus, he'd entered the situation room for the morning meeting where, instead of Jared's usually smiling countenance, Chris had encountered a brewing storm which seemed to get worse the more he opened his mouth. Chris had toned down his natural sarcasm, and began to only respond when spoken to, but that didn't seem to help Jared's mood. Then, in the middle of Jeff talking about Jensen's latest antics with that FBI guy, Jared had snapped, and Chris suddenly had six and a half feet and over two hundred pounds of muscle coming across the table towards him.
Some small, and probably oxygen-deprived part of Chris' brain is inordinately pleased he didn't pee himself, though, the morning is still young.
"Jared!" Jensen's voice is like a gunshot, cracking through the increasing haze in Chris' brain. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Jared releases his grip and Chris falls to the floor like a busted marionette. He feels hands under each arm and the reassuring solidity of Columbus and Idris haul him to his feet. He manages to raise his head and what he sees makes him kind of wish he had given in and blacked out when he had the chance.
Jared and Jensen are facing each other. Chris can't see Jared's face, but Jensen's expression of cold, barely restrained fury is enough to fuel nightmares - even Oscar, who must have fetched the ex-assassin, is backing away slowly. Chris isn't sure what's going on, or why he was targeted, but he does know that if those two go at it nothing, including the house, would be left standing.
"Get him out of here," Jensen says, and Chris' escorts start to move him.
"He's not going anywere," Jared practically growls.
Jensen cocks his head to one side. "We gonna tussle, Jay? Over this?" His eyes flick to someone beyond Chris' field of vision. "Take care of him."
Before Jared can say anything else, Chris is out the door and being moved swiftly towards Jeff's office.
"The fuck did you do?" Columbus whispers in his ear.
As the sounds of shouts and broken glass follow them down the hallway, Chris can't help but think that was a very good question.
***
"Ow," Chris croaks. "Ow. Ow. Fucking OW, dammit."
Idris finishes palpating Chris' throat, gives him a dispassionate look, and says, "he'll live."
"For now," Jeff says darkly. "So, Evans, any idea why the very, very bad man we work for just tried to pop your head like a champagne cork?"
Chris grimaces as he gingerly touches his neck. "Not a fucking clue," he says with complete honesty.
"Think, man," Columbus says, "there's got to be something."
"Dude, I haven't done anything! I swear. I haven't even tried sneaking any of his rainbow stripes since that time he caught me and broke my pinkie." Chris hates the slight whine that's creeped into his voice, but he can't help it. He's scared out of his mind.
Jeff gives him a hard stare, then nods. "All right. Here's what we're gonna do. Idris and I are gonna run interference while you go to your room and get a bag together. Pack essentials and fuck sentimentality because I want you ready to move out in under two minutes, clear?"
Chris nods.
"I've got a safehouse you can go to. Columbus and Oscar can take you there and then-"
"I'm staying with him," Oscar says.
"You don't have-" Chris swallows the rest of that sentence as Oscar pins him with a no-nonsense look.
"If the big boss is out for your blood, you're not going anywhere without someone watching your back," Oscar says. "¿Entienda?"
"Yeah. Thanks, man."
"All right," Jeff says, "let's move people."
They're ready to head out, Chris still leaning heavily on Columbus, when the door opens. Everyone tenses, but it's Jensen, not Jared, who walks in.
Without preamble he immediately walks over and does his own inspection of Chris' neck. "Jesus," he says softly, "Jay sure did a number on you. So fucking sorry about that, man. It will not happen again."
"We're taking him out of the house," Jeff says, "can we count on you?"
"'Course. But that won't be necessary." Jensen pats Chris' shoulder. "You'll be fine now."
"How are you so sure?" Chris asks. "I thought I was fine before and then, WHAM. I still don't know what I did to incite the whole 'homicidal rage' thing."
Jensen grimaces and walks to the other side of the room. "You didn't do anything."
"Then who did?" Jeff peers at the ex-assassin. "Jensen?"
Jensen rubs at the back of his neck and gives them all a lackluster smile. "Funny story... Jay and I were eating breakfast, and he mentioned how much he was looking forward to the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and that Johnny Depp was at the top of his 'Exception List', and-"
"Wait," Oscar cocks his head, "what is an exception list?"
Columbus answers, "it's a list of celebrities your spouse or partner has to let you sleep with, even though it'll never happen. Like, Angelina Jolie is on my exception list."
"Ah." Oscar turns back to Jensen. "And what does that have to do with Jared going, ah, batshit?"
Jensen blushes. Actually blushes. "Well, when he asked me for my exception list he didn't specify the celebrity part."
It takes a moment for the words to sink in, and when they do all heads turn towards Chris.
"You're a dead man," Idris says simply.
"No, he's not," Jensen insists.
"Yes, I am!" Chris says. "How could you... why would you... I thought we were friends, and all this time you've been secretly lusting after me."
"I haven't been lusting-"
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I am flattered. And terrified. Mostly terrified."
Jensen rolls his eyes. "There's been no lusting. It's all hypothetical. Hypothetically, if I wasn't with Jay, you would be an acceptable substitute."
"Acceptable..." Chris nods. "And the flattery's gone leaving behind just the terror. Thanks."
"Well, I'm sorry!" Jensen throws his hands into the air. "I spent over ten years doing the whole killer-for-hire thing, excuse me if I'm not well-versed in cutesy relationship-type shit."
"That's just great," Chris says, "you're sorry, and I'm still dead. There are certain things of Jared's you don't fuck with; his organization, his family, the candy stash he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk, and you."
"I'm going to ignore my ranking on that list," Jensen says dryly.
"And, you didn't actually fuck with him," Columbus says to Chris, "he just wants you to."
Jensen glares at him. "It was hypo... nevermind. And like I said, you'll be fine now. I've taken care of it. Jared and I talked it out."
Jeff clears his throat. "Not that we don't trust you, and your obviously aweseome judgment on things-"
"But how do we know that lover-boy's assurances weren't just to placate you," Idris finishes.
"Because, by 'talked it out' I mean I put him on his back and threatened to dust off my toolkit if he didn't cut out all this jealous shit."
"Yikes," Columbus says. "That should do it."
"It'd better." Oscar glares darkly at Jensen.
"I told you we should have killed him," Idris mutters to Jeff.
"Well," Chris says with a brightness he absolutely does not feel, "I'm still terrified. But slightly reassured. And, in the future, if you could please leave me out of your freaky relationship discussions, it would be greatly appreciated. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to my room, lock the door, and sob hysterically for a little while." Chris nods and manages to make it across the room without any assistance. He stops by Jensen and gives him a long, considering look, lingering on the other man's mouth. "Ours is a forbidden love-"
"Shut the hell up."
***
Chris does go back to his room, but he doesn't go on a crying jag. Instead, he packs a light bag that will stay at the bottom of his closet. Just in case. After that he locks his door, shoves a chair under the doorknob, downs a couple of old pain pills, and settles on his bed for a nap.
A sharp, rapping sound brings him back to consciousness. A quick glance at his watch shows that he's been asleep for almost four hours. He thinks he should feel at least a little refreshed, but instead he just feels more run down than he did before. Nearly getting killed can really take a lot out of a person.
The rapping sound comes again, a little harder and faster this time. It's someone at the door, probably Columbus or Oscar coming to check on him.
"Coming," Chris says, dragging himself out of bed. He's smiling. While the situation sucks, he can't help but anticipate the extra attention he'll probably be getting from his teammates. He's definitely going to be up for some pampering over the next few days.
Hoping that whoever's waiting in the hall has brought a treat, preferably ice cream considering the state of his throat, Chris moves the chair, and opens the door. And then promptly shuts it again. Or, he tries to, at least, but it just bounces off Jared's foot.
Chris absolutely does not scream, or cry, or faint as a glowering Jared makes his way into the room. He does position himself next to his dresser and the stash of weapons hidden under his boxers. He's not reaching for any knives or guns just yet, though. The homicidal rage that was in Jared's eyes earlier is missing. Instead, there's a resigned expression on the larger man's face, and a thin, angry, red ligature mark around his throat.
"So," Jared says. "Nice room."
"Thanks?"
"I like the... colors."
Chris glances around. "Yeah."
"Blues are nice."
"I think so."
There's a very loud cough from the hallway just beyond the door frame.
"I'm getting to it!" Jared yells.
"Get to it quicker!" Jensen yells back.
Jared makes a very rude gesture towards the open doorway, then turns back to Chris. He clears his throat. "Uh, I'm... sorry... I tried to kill you earlier."
Chris nods. "I, um, okay." He waits, but Jared doesn't make any move to leave. "Thanks?" he says again.
"There's more," Jensen calls out.
Jared scowls. "I"m supposed to get to know you better," he says. "Jensen thinks if we," Jared crooks the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand and makes air quotes, "bond, I'll be less likely to want to slice your face off. Though, I have to say, I'm getting more and more okay with the thought of you taking him off my hands."
"I heard that!"
"You were supposed to!"
"Guys!" Chris winces and gingerly touches his throat. "Jared, thank you for not killing me, and I would appreciate if you could keep on not killing me in the future, but you don't have to worry about me coming between you and Jensen. Ever. I'm not stupid, or suicidal, and to try and come between the two of you I'd have to be both. You guys are... you're pretty awesome together."
"Oh." Jared's entire countenance changes, and that sunny smile Chris had missed at the meeting makes an appearance. "Gee, maybe you're not so bad."
"Told you," Jensen says, leaning through the doorway.
"Yeah, yeah." Jared claps Chris on the shoulder and nearly sends him careening into the wall. "Take the week off, okay? And when you come back we'll have a few beers, maybe catch a game or something. You a Cowboys fan?"
Chris can see Jensen frantically nodding in the background.
"Uh, yes?" Patriots forever, bitch.
"Awesome!" Jared beams at him. "So, again, you know, sorry about the whole..." Jared waves his hand in the general vicinity of Chris' neck, then sort of bounds out of the room.
Chris is left staring at Jensen "What the hell just happened?"
"Told you I'd take care of it."
"Yes, you did," Chris says. "I'll never doubt you again," he pauses and a devilish smirk forms on his face, "secret lover."
"Keep that up and I'll kill you myself."
"Sorry. Baby."
"Oh, shut up."
***