Chris always said that Jared had a PhD in Puppy and a Masters in Moron, and whilst that was more than a little insulting, after the fifth shot of tequila, he was ready to concede the point.

"You know there is a simple solution to this." Chris announced, deadly serious in a way that only the very drunk or the very boring could ever be. Steve sat beside him, swaying slightly in his seat, but nodding just as solemnly.

The meaning of life lay at the bottom of that bottle of tequila, and Jared was convinced it wasn't 42. He poured another shot, missing the glass entirely on his first two attempts. "There is?" He hummed absently, brow furrowed in concentration. How many muscles did it take to down a shot?

"Fuck her." Chris said with a melodramatic flourish of his arms. Fucking musicians.

"We talking figuratively here? Cos I think I covered that with the unavailable part." The fact that Chris assumed he was talking about a woman made little to no difference at all.

Steve shrugged for Chris, who was too busy trying to light a joint to be bothered with the gesture. "Seriously dude. Get blind drunk and go fuck her. The sex will be awesome, you'll have scratched an itch, and we'll get Chad to fix you up with some bimbo at a wrap party."

Jared blinked. No part of that sentence made sense. Sex and Jensen were not to subjects to be mixed. Oil and water. Or pickles and ice cream. "You realize your logic has more floors than the Empire State Building?"

"Floors?" Chris blinked, confused.

"Flaws." Jared shook his head. "I know what I'm talking about and no. No sex. Sex bad."

Steve shook his head, long hair flying about his shoulders. "Sex is never bad."

"There is a first time for everything."

"Like fucking a married chick." Chris nodded.

Jared ignored them. The meaning of life? Life sucked.

*****

Jared had a plan. A good plan. A plan guaranteed to work. He'd drawn a stick figure plan of action on a napkin and everything.

Phase One: Sneak into Jensen's house.

Sneak, because Sam would be there. She would frown; maybe even hit him with Jensen's rolling pin. He wasn't afraid of her…but this mission called for ninja like stealth. No witnesses.

Phase Two: Climb up drainpipe to Jensen's bedroom window.

Seriously, who built houses that way anymore? Hadn't Romeo and Juliet taught people that horny young men will climb into pretty girls/Jensen's bedrooms, and putting a drainpipe there was practically issuing an invitation?

Phase Three: Wake Jensen without coming across as evil stalker/rapist/axe murderer.

He'd ditched the ski mask for that very reason.

Phase Four: Proceed to have hot/steamy/awesome/earth shattering sex.

He'd downloaded gay porn. Again, research. Five minutes in he'd realized that porn stars? So not hot. And apparently it really was possible to fuck not-so pretty boy's ass and suck his dick at the same time. Who'd have thought?

Phase Five: Was lost in the details.

Jared sort of imagined them collapsing on the bed in a sweaty tangle of limbs, agree that yes, they could out fuck Hugh Heffner, and proceed to live the rest of their lives in amicable friendship. Like a male/male Will and Grace.

Phases Six, Seven and Eight: Keep hot/steamy/awesome/earth shattering sex from David.

He'd left the Polaroid at home for said reason.

So armed with a plan, a good plan, and stick-figure napkin in hand, Jared proceeded with Operation: Title To Be Announced.

Jared was pretty sure he splinted bone when he fell through Jensen's window. It had looked so much easier on The Fresh Prince. Really, deaf or not, it was a miracle Jensen didn't feel the shockwaves.

Obviously he slept like the dead, a fact which Jared's drunken mind appreciated immensely. He had plans of a dramatic entrance culminating in hot/steamy/awesome/earth shattering sex that would put him off Jensen for life. Jensen seeing him in a graceless heap at the foot of the bed was not part of that plan.

The sheets were rumpled on the right side of the bed. Jared circled it, but it was cool. David had been there, but not for some time.

Jensen always slept on the left…Jared had never understood why. He was also one of the few people Jared knew of that could sleep comfortably on his back for any great length of time. He was sprawled that way now, head lilted towards the window, one arm laid out in an artless right angle across the pillow. He wore one of those pale-colored shirts with the sleeves too long. Jared liked Jensen in long sleeves, he liked the way the fabric always bunched up at his wrists. This one was blue…no, grey, and mottled with white like a bird egg. He'd be wearing those stupid baggy pants that made his ass totally shapeless and a million pairs of socks.

Jared knew all of this. He'd stalked the guy after all. Intimate knowledge of sleep garments was part of the Stalkers Handbook.

There was no light in the room, just the little illumination from outside, and Jared couldn't see if Jensen's hair was blond or brown. It was a topic of debate hours in more extreme boredom, and even after several months of study, he'd not quite settled on an answer.

Right that very second, it looked dark. Dark and soft.

And this really wasn't helping The Plan.

"Jen?"

Obviously. No response.

"Jen?" He poked Jensen in the chest until he stirred. "Good, you're awake." He said brightly.

Jensen blinked sleepily, one hand rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Jensen was adorable when he was sleepy. He made Jared want to snuggle.

Again, not helping.

"Jay?"

Jared ignored the sleepy question and the gruff voice in which it was asked. Instead, he seized Jensen by the shoulders, hauled him half out of bed, and kissed him.

As kisses went, it was pretty damn terrible. Jensen made a squeaky sound in surprise, his palms flat against Jared's chest. Lips and teeth clashed, and Jensen's eyes were bright and confused.

A PhD in Puppy, a Masters in Moron, and a big fat F in Genius Ideas.

He let Jensen push back, big eyes and bigger frown. "Are you drunk?" He asked in the same soft voice that had called after him when he walked out.

"No." Jared said petulantly, even though he started nodding at the same time.

Jensen didn't have to say anything in response. The look he gave Jared was so 'the fuck you aren't' that even a mind saturated in spirits could easily interpret it. "Okay," he admitted. "Maybe a little."

Jensen arched a dark eyebrow expectantly.

Jared shuffled. Twitched. Someone had dumped a farm of fire eating ants in his pants and it made him want to run around the room screaming. Or get naked.

"Ithinkweshouldhavehotsex." He said, muttering the words and spitting them out without pause. Jensen frowned, obviously unable to understand. Jared cursed, and from the sharp pinch to the inside of his elbow, it seemed Jensen could understand that. Figures.

Summoning his basic knowledge of sign language, Jared pointed at himself, then to Jensen, before making a crude gesture with his hands.

Disbelief colored Jensen's face before he doubled over, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Every time he tried to look at Jared, he failed, curling back in on himself and giggling madly.

Jared was way too drunk for this shit. "Oh shut up." He grumbled, smacking Jensen's shoulder and rolling over to curl up in David's vacated spot. Jensen continued to laugh, propping himself up on one elbow, lips curled into the biggest smile Jared had ever seen.

There comes that fucking truck again, he though morosely. "We're supposed to be having awesome sex now." He pointed out, pouting as Jensen continued to grin. Again, the eyebrow arched, and suddenly Jensen was moving, leg swinging across Jared's thighs as he straddled him, nose to nose, grin faded to a look of absolute seriousness.

"Jen?" Jared squeaked.

Jensen grinned quickly, pressed a light kiss to the tip of Jared's nose, and rolled back onto his side of the bed. "Go to sleep." Jensen yawned as he snuggled back under the covers.

"I hate you." Jared said flatly. Jensen couldn't hear him, but he was giggling anyway.

Still, neither of them complained when Jared slung and arm over Jensen's waist and proceeded to turn him into a cuddly toy. Drunk or not, a known side effect of Jensen was induced snuggling. There was no known cure. It was best just to let it run its course.

Read Part Ten Lock up my heart, and throw away the key in the Louder Than Words 'Verse by SplashPink