saone | J2 Killer Romance Fic: Vengence 1/1

Title: Vengeance (Is a Dish Best Served by Someone's Mother)
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:

saone77
Summary: AU. Jensen has a rotten day, Jared tries to help, and everyone else makes bets on the effectiveness of Misha's ability to make nefarious plans.
Characters: J2, some Losers, and a Chad
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 1927
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: I've got about three Killer Romance fics in various stages of completion - yes, including the much asked about origin story which I hope to get finished in time for the first anniversary of the original fic - but this kind of snuck up on me and wouldn't let me go until I had finished it.

"Why does everybody think I'm a whore?!"

Jared, along with Chad and the Security Team, look up in surprise at Jensen's very un-Jensen-like entrance.

"Seriously!" His arms are waving and his breath is coming in pants.

Chris opens his mouth and abruptly closes it again when Oscar's fingers dig into his forearm.

The Spaniard shakes his head sharply. "No."

"It's probably because of your mouth," Chad says. "Motherfuck!" he exclaims, wincing, as one of Jared's huge paws clips him upside his head.

Jared shakes out his stinging hand - he always forgets how hard Chad's skull is - and rounds his desk to offer a consoling hug to his boyfriend. "What's the matter, baby? Did someone make a disparaging remark? Do you want me to kill them?" He pets Jensen's hair. "I could maim them. I'm really good at maiming."

Jensen sighs and lets his head rest on Jared's broad shoulder for just a moment. "Thanks for the offer, but no." he says, pulling away. "It was Misha's partner, the indomitable and incorruptible Agent Whitfield. He grabbed me coming out of the spa, and I spent the past four hours at the Federal Building listening to all the reasons I should turn states evidence."

Columbus scowls. "I hate when that happens."

"I know, right?" Jensen sinks into one of the over-sized chairs that sit opposite Jared's desk. He looks towards his boyfriend. "Evidently, you're only using me for my body, and once I start showing my age you'll drop my sagging ass for a younger model."

"That bastard! I'm gonna love you no matter how much your ass sags." Jared blinks a few times. "Not that I think it's sagging now. Or that I really expect it to in the future. You have a great ass. Very firm." He makes a cupping motion with his hands. "And round. I like it. A lot."

"Nice save, boss," Chris says in a stage whisper. Chad mimes sticking a finger down his throat, while Idris looks even more disgusted than he normally does, and Jeff and Columbus look kind of like they would greatly appreciate having the floor swallow them whole. Oscar simply crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head at the whole sad, sorry lot of them.

Jensen pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm just going to take that in the spirit it was offered and say thank you."

"Anyway," Jared says loudly, "I think it might be time to send Agent Whitfield a little message." He frowns. "Nobody messes with what's mine"

"While the whole possessive thing does get me all a' tingle," Jensen says with a smirk, "Misha said he'll take care of it. Whitfield won't know it's in retaliation for what he did to me, but the next few weeks of his life are gonna be torture."

"Oooh, what's he gonna do?" Chris asks with blatant and unholy glee. He, like everyone else who had met the turncoat Fed - except for Idris, the disgruntled bastard - was absolutely enamored by Misha's unique brand of batshit insanity. The guy was just as nutty as the rest of them, but because he had to keep it bottled up while walking the straight and narrow line of law enforcement, his psychosis had fermented in new and interesting ways.

"He called Whitfield's mother and hinted that her son was feeling extra stressed and might need some quality coddling for while."

Jared scowls. "That sounds incredibly lame."

"True," Jensen says, "and if anyone else had come up with it, I'd agree with you. But, it's Misha. There has to be something evil about it." Jensen moves to Jared's side and plasters himself against the big man. He cranes his neck and plants a soft kiss on the side of Jared's mouth. "Have faith."

One of Jared's hands automatically gravitates to Jensen's very not-saggy behind. "Fine. But if it's not suitably horrific I reserve the right to have Idris practice his carving skills."

Idris perks up.

"A hundred bucks on Misha coming through," Chris says. Idris gives him a truly impressive stink-eye, and the blonde quickly ducks behind a still unimpressed Oscar.

"Two hundred says he won't," Chad says. "And I'm not just betting that way because I think Idris is a scary motherfucker who needs kills like some people need Prozac." Chad's grins. Idris glowers. Chad whimpers.

"Oh, no," Jeff says, "we are not starting another betting pool. Or am I the only one who remembers what happened after March Madness? There are sore losers, and then there are sore losers with an unlimited access to lethal weapons and little to no moral code."

Columbus side-eyes Oscar then jerks his head towards Idris. Oscar shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to draw a little 'M' in the air.

Jeff throws his hands up. "Fine. Whatever. But don't come to me if any of you need stitches."

"Awesome," Jared says distractedly. He's not sure when his hand went from simply resting on Jensen's ass to rhythmically squeezing it, but the firm, denim encased flesh is giving him ideas. Granted, just about everything of Jensen's gives him ideas. Hell, even the guy's toes are hot; how does that make sense? "I have no idea what any of you are talking about, but I'm about to sex up my boyfriend, so y'all might want to take your leave now."

Jensen's giving him the come-hitherest of come-hithery looks and if the others don't exit the room posthaste, they're gonna get one hell of a show.

"What?!"

"Oh, man."

"Great. There goes the meeting."

"I'm good here."

"Evans! Get your ass out that door. Goddammit, I have got to look into retirement."

The door has barely closed before Jensen is climbing Jared like a tree. Jared has a moment, as Jensen's legs wrap around his waist, to thank every pound he's ever benched because he keeps them upright even as Jensen latches onto that sweet spot on the side of his neck.

"Spent hours listening to Whitfield go on and on about how you're using me," Jensen says between licking and sucking on Jared's throat. "At first I was pissed, but then I started getting so hot, thinking about all the times you actually have used me. Misha caught me trying to hider a boner. He thought it was hilarious, the fucker."

Jared spins around and smoothly deposits Jensen on his desk. Jensen's legs stay locked around Jared's waist, keeping their hips snug together.

"Please, never use the words 'Misha' and 'boner' in the same sentence again," Jared says, fingers busy with buttons and zippers.

Jensen stretches his arms above his head and keeps them there. He looks so deliciously debauched, and he's not even half-way naked yet. "And if I do?" he asks, a challenge clear in his voice.

Jared's hopes there isn't any pressing business he needs to attend to, because he's pretty sure sating the absolutely wicked look in Jensen's eyes is going to take the rest of the day. And maybe the evening. And possibly into the night. Jared wonders how pissed Jensen would be if he ducked out for some energy bars.

_____________

"Ay, oou don ink eff eans 't ooo oou?"

Jensen pauses in his own pre-bedtime routine to frown at Jared. "Spit, then talk. And wipe down the mirror; you got flecks all over it."

Jared obeys and admires his pearly whites for a moment before he says again, "you don't think Jeff means it, do you? About retirement?"

"Nah," Jensen says, running a washcloth over his face, "if Jeff left us what would he have to bitch about?" He leans over the sink and peers at his reflection in the mirror. He makes a few odd faces then says, "I'm thinking about maybe growing a beard."

Jared starts. "You mean like on your face?" He rolls his eyes and resists the urge to smack himself in the head. "First, shut up. Second, why would you want to do that?"

Jensen snorts, then his face grows pensive. "I don't know, just... for something different. Maybe."

"But you look-" Oh. "Jen, Whitfield is a moron. A moron that you could kill with one hand tied behind your back using just a paperclip and a rubber band."

"Who needs paperclips," Jensen scoffs.

"Don't try and deflect," Jared says. "Please, please tell me you aren't thinking of changing how you look just because he thinks that you-"

"Charge by the hour?" Jensen says ruefully. "He's not the only one, though. Chad spent years thinking I was for rent. So did Jeff. For that matter, so did you when we first met."

"In my defense, you did show up in my hotel room while I was in the shower, looking all hot and sexy."

Jensen grins. "And then I kicked your ass."

Jared sighs fondly. "And then you kicked my ass." He takes one of Jensen's hands and lightly presses a kiss against the knuckles. "And then we fell in love."

"If you want to do the massively abridged version of how we got together, then yeah, that's exactly what happened."

"The whole story takes too long," Jared says. "It's late, and I'm tired. Somebody wore my ass out earlier today."

"Really?" Jensen raises one eyebrow. "Your ass got worn out?"

"Semantics," Jared says as he sidles up behind Jensen, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist and nuzzling into his neck. Jensen leans his head back against Jared's shoulder while his hands rest on Jared's forearms.

For a few long, blissful minutes they do nothing but hold each other and breathe.

While Jared dearly loves how they spent that afternoon and part of the evening, it's time like these that make his heart feel far to big for his chest.

The chime of Jensen's cell phone pulls them from their repose. Jensen extricates himself from Jared's arms and walks into the bedroom and to his nightstand. He slides his thumb across the touchscreen and raises his eyebrows. "It's a message from Misha," he says.

Jared looks at his alarm clock and frowns. "Does he know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Do you know how old you sound?" Jensen taps on the screen a few times then his eyes grow wide. "Oh, my God..."

Jared, concerned, starts to move towards him, but he stops when Jensen throws his head back and practically erupts with laughter. When Jared realizes no answers are forthcoming - Jensen's howling so hard he's wheezing - he makes a grab for Jensen's phone. There, on the screen, is an obviously clandestinely taken picture of Whitfield and an older woman at what looks to be some kind of theme restaurant.

Jared peers at the image. "Is she..."

"Cutting up his meat? Yes." Jensen manages to get out.

"And are those..."

"Bright pink lipstick marks on his forehead? Yes."

"And is he..."

"Looking like he wants nothing more than to stuff his gun in his mouth and end his misery? That would be another yes."

"Holy crap," Jared says. "Misha's an evil genius." Idris might have made Whitfield hurt and bleed, but this, this would draw out his suffering like nothing else.

"Chris and Oscar are gonna make some money," Jensen muses.

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Jensen cocks his head to one side. "My honor, for what it's worth, has been avenged, kind of, and not one drop of blood was spilt. That seems so wrong."

"Would you like me to find someone for you to kill?"

Jensen purses his lips. "Maybe."

Jared grins. "The things I do for love."

_____________

end

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From:

ymmy12.livejournal.com

i know its wrong but i love this murderous duo and their gang--once again too funny and sweet (in a serial killer type of way)

From:

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J2 Killer Romance Fic: Vengence 1/1

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