He can't believe he's allowed himself to be talked into slumming it at dive bars in LA. He's a major movie star now, and he's allowing himself to be dragged around the seedier parts of Los Angeles. Then again, saying no to Drew can be difficult, and he always swore when he got a little notoriety (thank you Live Free or Die Hard and Hitman) he'd remember all the little guys. So that is how he finds himself out and about in LA with his old cast buddies from Broken Hearts Club. Okay, so it's just Andrew Keegan and Dean Cain, but one couldn't ask for better friends than them in a town that eats people alive on a daily basis.

Of course adding in the whole thing about his marriage in shambles and Alexis insisting on keeping the girls, he needs some downtime. Maybe a night out with the guys would be a welcome change, not to mention they won't ask questions about the rumors going around that he might have been caught with one of the sound guys in his trailer on the set of his latest movie A Perfect Getaway.

He takes in a deep breath as he slips inside the bar. He looks around and grins at the sight of Dean waving him over. He makes his way through the crowd, and he groans at the bright-eyed look in Andrew's eyes. Seems the guys have started without him. He braces himself as Dean's hand lands on his shoulder, and he's reminded of Dean and his Superman complex. Some things never change.

"Wow man, how does it feel? You were married what? Fifteen years? That's a lifetime in this town!" Dean says.

He rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Seventeen years next month."

"Has she seen a lawyer yet?" Andrew throws in, and that's just Andrew, always putting his two cents in.

"Yeah, and she wants the girls. I'm gonna try for joint custody, and I think Alexis will agree to it eventually, but right now she's still kinda pissed."

"I bet. But you know what? We're here for a good time, so I say we get drunk out of our mind and check out the band tonight. I hear they're good, and I think Drew might know 'em," Dean says, before anything is said that can't be unsaid.

"Amen to that," he says, and then he notices Andrew jerking to his feet and waving crazily at someone over near the stage.

Andrew then pops his forefinger and thumb into his mouth, whistles, and calls out, "Jen! Hey man! Jen! Get your pretty ass over here! I'm hanging out with movie stars now and you gotta see it to believe it!"

Dean shakes his head, because Andrew has obviously been hitting the hard stuff already to be as loose and free as he is. This might mean trouble sooner rather than later. He rolls his brown eyes in agreement with Dean and then turns in the direction where Andrew is still flailing to catch the attention of some guy, and then everything kind of goes fuzzy after that. He has a hard time catching his breath as he looks up to meet the greenest eyes he's ever seen, and then his gaze drops to the guy's mouth, which should be all kinds of illegal.

The guy smiles at him, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, and yeah, he's a goner. Maybe that thing with the sound guy was more than just a fluke.

"Jen, man, you know Dean, at least, I think you know Dean, but this here! This is freakin' Agent 47! You know, Timothy Olyphant! He's left the rest of us hopeful young actors in the dust, but he can still party with us!"

Tim winces and gives a little wave at the guy. "Hey, you can call me Tim. And don't listen to these assholes, I'm just a regular guy."

Jen snorts and says, "Good to know. I got a friend, he kept getting cast as the guy to kill on television and now he's making like four, five movies a year. He's still a pretty okay guy. So I'll reserve judgment on you for now. Whatcha drinkin'?"

"Corona and lime, and hey man, there's an accent. Mind if I ask where you're from?"

Green Eyes flushes a little. "Richardson, Texas. Sorry, sometimes it slips out when I talk to my man Jay."

"I see, and how do you know Drew?"

Jen and Andrew answer in unison, "Christian Fucking Kane," and then laugh, like that explains everything. Maybe it does, but it kind of goes over Tim's head.

A few drinks later and Dean is taking off because he's got an early day with a second call back to look forward to. Andrew is over by the bar, barely able to stand, but that isn't keeping him from hitting on some chick who just smiles at him and accepts the second appletini he's ordered for her. This of course leaves Tim with Green Eyes, who as it turns out has a name, Jensen Ackles.

Tim's really starting to relax with another Corona, and he's being sly about watching how Jensen's Adam's apple bobs as he takes a nice long pull from his own beer. He's got to admit he just doesn't get how this kid hasn't made it really big. Just from his looks alone, and he's pretty sure that Zoe, his oldest daughter, has mentioned something about the show the kid is on, and something about how hot a guy named Dean Winchester is, and that his little brother Sam isn't something to bat an eyelash at.

"Hey man, who is it you play on that show again?" Tim asks, and Jensen raises a brow at him.

"Why? You a fan?" he challenges.

Tim shrugs. "I'm just saying I might have seen some of your work."

It's while he's knocking back the last of his beer that Jensen chooses to answer, "Dean Winchester."

Tim actually chokes at that. God. The apple doesn't fall that far from the tree, and he's pretty sure he's blushing right now. Jensen knocks him on the back, and asks him if he's all right. Tim coughs and then says, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, it's just, my daughter Zoe, she's a big fan. She always talks about how hot Dean Winchester is and well…"

Jensen laughs. "How old is she?"

"Fourteen going on thirty, man. I swear that kid is all kinds of crazy and she's gonna be the reason I finally get gray hair."

"Fourteen? You have a fourteen year old kid?" Jensen asks, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Dude, you CAN'T be much older than me!"

"Try forty, with three girls, Zoe is fourteen, Kaylie is eleven, and Gracie is eight," Tim replies with a little smirk as he signals the bartender for another round.

"You're shittin' me!" Jensen says.

Tim smirks as he digs his wallet out of the back pocket of his vintage blue jeans and hands Jensen his license and a picture of his girls. "Shit! I don't believe it!"

"Yeah, and how old are you?" Tim challenges back.

Jensen purses his lips, and Tim has to shift in his seat, because lips like that should be illegal, especially on a guy like Jensen who already looks pretty damn good.

"Thirty," he grumbles as he hands the license and picture back over.

Tim snorts as he puts them back in his wallet, and snatches Jensen's beer, because he's tired of waiting on his. "You make it sound like being thirty's a bad thing. You're still young, hell look at Bruce, he's fifty and still making action movies. Don't knock thirty till you've hit forty man," Tim replies with a wink and finishes off Jensen's beer.

Jensen narrows his eyes at him, but before anything is said, the music has stopped and someone is calling Jensen up to the stage.

"Hey Jenny, I know you're out there. Come on up here and sing us a song. You know you wanna."

"Damn Steve. Almost as bad as fuckin' Kane."

Tim nods toward the stage. "Friend of yours?"

"More like a pain in the ass."

"Jenny Bean, get your ass up here man!" Steve calls out from the stage again.

Tim smirks. "I think you better get up there before he really tries to embarrass you."

Jensen rolls his eyes, and Tim takes in a breath at the mossy green flash.

Finally Jensen gets to his feet with a long suffering sigh and makes his way toward the stage, nodding and waving his hands at the applause that Steve has started up.

Tim watches as the singer of the band, Steve Carlson or something, grins and claps Jensen on the back as Jensen joins him on stage. "Hey man, now that I got you up here, how about we get you to play a classic. I'm thinkin' 867-5309."

"Low blow man, now what you got in mind, or did I just come all the way up here for nothin'?"

"Come Around More Alabama good then?" Steve says, and the crowd gets a little restless at the mention of the song, and Tim figures it must be a good one.

"You take the main verses and I'm up on the chorus?" Steve continues.

"I figured I'd just back you up," Jensen says and gives Steve a pointed look.

Steve snorts. "Whatever man, I dragged you up here, these people are gonna actually here you sing."

Jensen covers the mic with his hand and from what Tim can see, he and Steve have a bit of a heated discussion before Jensen finally rolls his eyes, pulls his hand from the mic and the band starts up.

He has to admit that the husky voice kind of takes him by surprise, as Jensen leans into the mic and begins to sing.

"Speak to me
Quietly and clear
Then tell me why you're here
And tell me where you're coming from
Cause I can't see
Why you're leavin' here so early
Was I wrong or were we
Getting along just fine…"

Then a softer voice begins to croon in, Steve harmonizing with Jensen at what must be the chorus.

"You should…
Come around more Alabama
Come around more Alabama
Come around more Alabama
Cause it might just be the right time for you and me."

Jensen soon finds himself on his own once again.

"The numbers and the names
All the funny games we play
To stay clear
Tell me what you're running from
I know that it's not me
Cause you're tangled in my thoughts these days
I know if I could make you stay
Just about a minute more
Then you'd…

Come around more Alabama
Come around more Alabama
Come around more Alabama
Cause it might just be the right time for you and me."

Once the song ends, it doesn't take long for Jensen to slip off stage, and the next thing Tim knows those lips are brushing against his ear, that husky voice sending a shiver up his spine as Jensen says, "Hey man, let's blow this Popsicle stand before Steve has me up there for an encore. My place is probably ten, fifteen minutes from here."

The trip in the cab actually takes twenty minutes, and Tim has to admit, the condo where they end up is not exactly what he was expecting, but Jensen doesn't seem like he spends a whole lot of time at home in LA anyway. Tim feels something flutter in his stomach as Jensen pays the cabbie and then he's following Jensen up the walk to the front door, and he can't suppress the grin at just how bowlegged Jensen is.

Once inside Jensen drops his keys on the table by the door, throws the deadbolt, shrugs out of his jacket, toes off his shoes, and makes a sweeping gesture to the living room where an entertainment center along with a couple of plush chairs, a couch, and a coffee table is set up. Tim kicks his own shoes off and heads toward the room as Jensen disappears down the hall. He takes a seat in the middle of the couch, his hands brushing down his thighs as he wonders what he's doing here, what Jensen might want from him.

A moment later and Jensen is handing him a longneck bottle of beer and sprawling next to him on the couch. He doesn't spare the remote on the coffee table a glance as Tim pops the top on his beer and takes a healthy swig. Jensen then shifts and leans forward as he says, "So, just how married are you?"

Tim takes in a sharp breath. "What does it matter?"

"She's already been to a lawyer huh?" Jensen says and taps Tim's bottle with his own as he continues, "Me? I keep a chick around to look good on my arm, but it never lasts. Always somethin' missin'. S'not like I can get what I really want, he's straight as an arrow, so I can settle for the next best thing."

"Oh?" Tim says, his voice hitching a little as he takes another quick pull from his bottle.

Jensen turns to him with a slight smirk. "But it depends on just how married you are. And don't think I ain't been noticin' you checkin' me out all night."

"She says it's over," Tim says, his voice quiet.

Jensen nods, and claps a sympathetic hand to Tim's shoulder, and Tim shivers at the burning warmth of that hand. "That's too bad for her."

Tim licks his lips and cuts Jensen a look from the corner of his eye. "And what will this cost me? A little talk with my agent? Dropping your name around the bigwigs?"

Jensen stiffens and his green eyes flash in anger. "Fuck you. I ain't no whore. I earn my way in the business. Ten years of this life and I'm doin' just fine on my own. I don't need a hand out or a hand up."

"Whoa, no harm, no foul. Just ease up," Tim says, trying to deflate the situation, while feeling like a jackass even though he's still a little leery.

Jensen snatches the beer from him, and sets both his and Tim's down on the coffee table, and then he turns. Tim is caught off guard as Jensen damn near tackles him. He lands with a grunt on his back on the couch, Jensen's breath hot against his lips, his hand trailing down Tim's shirt front, and Tim swallows thickly. This isn't exactly what he expected, and then Jensen presses down, and he's hard, and Tim finds that he's just as interested as blood rushes south. Still this doesn't feel right.

He's quick as he turns and rolls them from the couch to the floor, Jensen letting out a whoosh of air as Tim lands on him, and Tim uses the extra weight and muscle he has on Jensen to keep the younger man pinned beneath him. He cocks an eyebrow at Jensen and says, "If we do this, I just think you should know, I like having the upper hand. Call me a bastard or an asshole, but that's just how this works, Jen."

Tim then darts forward, his mouth firm and commanding against Jensen's lush lips, nipping the bottom lip until Jensen opens up for him and his tongue sweeps into Jensen's mouth, the taste of beer and something that makes heat pool and curl deep in his belly hitting him hard. Tim pulls back, licking his lips, his brown eyes so dark they're almost black as he looks into those lust blown green eyes.

Jensen runs his tongue across his kiss swollen lips, and smirks as he watches Tim's eyes follow the movement of his tongue, and then he shifts beneath the older man, before Tim knows it, he's on his back again, a little dazed from how his head landed on the floor and Jensen is looking down at him with a cock sure grin on his face.

"I ain't that easy. You've been in how many action movies? And think about this, I've worked on Dark Angel, Smallville, and for the last three years Supernatural. All very physically demanding roles. Careful, or I might have to remind you of your age, geezer."

Tim snorts indignantly and chuckles at that, "So says the guy bitching about being thirty."

Jensen's eyes narrow at that and he darts forward, nipping Tim's bottom lip, and then nosing down Tim's jaw, nipping down his throat, his hands hot and restless as they slip beneath Tim's shirt. Tim has to admit that he likes their current position, Jensen straddling his waist and their cocks straining against suddenly tight denim as Jensen grinds down into him, even if the coffee table is a little too close for comfort, and maybe Tim voices that opinion, because Jensen shoves the table away from them and leans down, his lips demanding as his hands work Tim's shirt up, over his stomach and chest.

Tim leans up, lifting his arms so Jensen can remove the shirt that obviously seems to be offending him so much. Jensen bows forward their lips meeting, and the pace of Jensen's hips rolling against his aching erection is leisurely. Damn, the kid pretty much knows exactly what he's doing, and Tim wants to level out the playing field a little bit.

He grabs at the bottom of Jensen's black button down shirt, and with a smirk tugging at his mouth he pulls at the shirt, the sound of material ripping and buttons popping loose fill the air. Jensen's eyes narrow, an indignant look on his face, and Tim chuckles as he says, "I'll buy you a new damn shirt."

"Damn right you will," Jensen growls and then he darts forward, teeth sinking into the curve of Tim's neck where it meets shoulder, and Jensen's hand darts down Tim's stomach, fingers deftly unbuttoning Tim's jeans and then drawing the zipper down.

A noise escapes Tim's mouth, he arches a little bit, as Jensen's tongue runs soothingly over the bite mark, and he groans when Jensen's hand slips beneath his boxers and circles the base of his cock, pulling it free.

Before Tim can form a cohesive thought, Jensen is slipping down his body, mouthing, licking, nipping down his heated chest, nipping at his nipples, dipping his tongue in Tim's navel, all the while his hand firm at the base of Tim's cock, and finally Jen is face to face with it. Jensen works Tim's jeans and boxers down to his ankles, and then his right hand wraps around the base again, his left hand firm on Tim's hips.

He looks up through his eyelashes, a dangerous smile curving that damn lush mouth, and then Tim's done for, his brain completely shut down as Jensen's tongue runs across those plump lips, those green eyes burning and then Jensen takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff, right across the glistening head of Tim's cock. A shiver runs over Tim's entire body, and it's cruel how Jensen is just torturing him with anticipation.

"What do you like?" Jensen asks, and Tim narrows his eyes, because it should be obvious at this point what he likes, and what he wants.

He tries to roll his hips upward against Jensen's iron-like hold, but Jensen just smirks at him, and with a chuckle continues, "What? Don't like dirty talk? Just want my mouth around your cock?"

Jensen then swipes his tongue across the head of Tim's cock, catching the salty, bitter flavor of pre-come, and Tim sucks in a big gust of air. Jensen pulls back, nips at the inside of Tim's left thigh.

"Bet you want to come in my mouth," Jensen sighs, his voice throaty, husky, and Tim moans and squirms as Jensen punctuates his words by licking along the underside of Tim's cock, from where his hand is wrapped around it, all the way from root to tip, and then with a wink he finally curls his tongue around the head of Tim's cock before lowering his mouth.

Slowly he works his way down, his tongue wriggling and flicking. He pulls back up, his tongue pressing just under the head, Tim bucking up against Jensen's left hand. Jensen chuckles, and Tim shivers again, kicks his boxers and jeans off and then digs the heels of his feet into the plush white carpet of the floor. Jensen chuckles, a most welcome sensation if Tim's groan and arched back is anything to go by.

"God, so good. Figured with that mouth, but Christ!" Tim manages as Jensen hollows out his cheeks and sucks, working his head up and down, liberally squeezing the base of Tim's cock while doing his best with the grip of his left hand to keep Tim from bucking too much and choking him.

Tim's hands find purchase in Jensen's short hair, cupping the back of Jensen's head, encouraging him to go faster. Jensen just arches an eyebrow and chuckles some more.

The tension is building, Jensen can feel it as he pulls back, his tongue circling the head, taking note of the miniscule, telling tremors of the body straining beneath him. His voice is rough and scratchy when he says, "Want you to come. Want you to fucking come now. You hold back on me and it'll only make it worse later."

Jensen then lowers his head again, swiping his tongue across the trembling head of Tim's cock, circling it and then shifting further down to mouth at the head, and Tim's cock twitches, and then he's coming, warm, salty, bitter in Jensen's mouth, filling his mouth, and Jensen pulls back as Tim continues to come, the thick, milky fluid trailing Jensen's chin, splashing across his cheeks, jaw, and neck, and finally Tim is done, his cock sensitive to the touch, and starting to go soft.

Tim's breathing is ragged as he lets go of Jensen's head, and raises himself on his elbows. He shifts so he's sitting up, and he pulls Jensen forward, their lips meeting messily, and Tim doesn't really care that his come is all over Jensen's face. Well, actually it's kind of sexy, and tasting himself in Jensen's mouth isn't half bad either. He brings his hands up to either side of Jensen's face, wiping away the sticky mess, and then trailing lazy kisses down Jensen's throat before he shifts, and nips Jensen's earlobe and in a husky, fucked-out voice says, "So, hotshot, how about you tell me what I can do for you."

Tim trails his hand down Jensen's flushed chest, skin so warm beneath his hand, finding his way to the thin line of hair from Jensen's navel, down, down, and down towards Jensen's jeans, and he can feel how hard Jensen is from the way the younger man is pressed against his thigh.

"You're still over dressed, Jen," Tim says, as he flicks the button of Jensen's jeans open and drags the zipper down. Jensen bucks a little, and Tim's eyebrows rise as he realizes that Jensen is commando beneath those jeans, and how uncomfortable that must be to be rock hard against rough, crisp denim. He pushes Jensen's jeans down his thighs and shifts his hands around to cup that amazingly muscular ass. Boy might be thirty but he's got an ass a teenager would envy.

Jensen shudders and lets out a whimper as Tim squeezes his ass cheeks, and pulls him flush against him, mouthing at the tender skin just below and to the back of Jensen's ear, right at the edge of his hairline. Tim's tongue swipes along the shell of Jensen's ear and then he whispers huskily, "Well, you were the one with all the big talk earlier. Now tell me what you want."

"You," Jensen manages around a gasp as Tim's hand wraps around the base of his cock, working it's way up until his thumb brushes over the head of his flushed cock, spreading the pre-come beginning to ooze from the tip.

"Gotta be more to it than that," Tim replies teasingly, liking that he finally has the upper hand as his cock gives a little twitch of interest, and it's kind of like being a teenager all over again, getting hard so fast after such a heady orgasm. He's not knocking his libido anytime soon though.

"Fuck," Jensen moans, as Tim flicks his nail across the slit of Jensen's cock. "Fine, damn bastard," he growls. "Want you buried in me, hand wrapped around my cock. Want you to fuck me long and hard. Ride me till you break me. Sonuvabitch!"

Tim hums against Jensen's neck, sucks at the sweat salty skin there, and says, "Like the way that sounds, but I'd rather break your bed than break you. Lead the way and I'll fuck you blind if that's what you want."

Jensen doesn't need to be told twice. He manages to get to his feet, granted he is a little shaky. Tim gets to his own feet, and has to struggle to hide his grin as Jensen kicks out of his blue jeans, his proud cock curved to his belly, looking almost painful it's so hard, and that leaves him in nothing but his torn open black shirt. Jensen rolls his eyes as he shrugs out of the shirt and it flutters to the floor.

He then reaches out and grabs Tim's arm, yanking him forward, and their bodies collide. They're almost the same height. Okay, Tim can concede to the fact that maybe Jensen is a little taller than him, but not by much. Still they fit together perfectly, and Jensen's mouth is a distraction, and it's not helping them get to Jensen's bed any faster. Tim pushes Jensen back, and then laughs at the dark expression on Jensen's pretty, stubbled face.

Jensen huffs and actually pouts, his bottom lip protruding and giving him a very unfair advantage, but Tim is the father of three girls, he can outlast the pout.

Tim shakes his head, a smile tugging at his mouth as Jensen turns toward the hall and grumbles, "And you think I'm a tease. Damn asshole."

Tim reaches out and gives Jensen's ass a firm swat, which makes the younger man jump, let out a yelp and turn a glare in Tim's direction. Tim wriggles his nose at him and then licks his lips. Jensen grabs his left hand and practically drags him down the hall. Once they reach the door at the end of the hall Jensen throws it open, and the next thing Tim knows he's in the room, the door slammed shut behind them, and he's being manhandled over to the bed while Jensen practically devours him, his mouth everywhere, jaw, throat, collarbone, sucking, nipping, biting mercilessly. The back of Tim's knees hit the mattress and both men tumble back onto the bed, Tim lets out a grunt as Jensen lands on top of him, hips rolling, their cocks rubbing together and finding some really amazing friction.

He's surprised when Jensen pulls back and rolls away, then he hears the sound of a drawer opening and feels a little bottle of something land on his stomach followed by a foil packet. Jensen picks up the bottle, and Tim notices the label, his eyes widening a little, KY tingling sensation. That's very interesting.

"Scoot back on the bed," Jensen says, his tone ragged.

"But I wanna touch you," Tim says in confusion.

Jensen actually glowers at him as he flips the cap on the bottle and squirts some of the liquid onto his right hand. He raises a brow and says, "You sit back and watch. If you touch me I'll come, and I only want to come when you're balls deep in my ass. Got it asshole?"

There's really not much to say to that, so he scoots up, leans back against the headboard of the bed and watches as Jensen raises himself on his knees, reaching back with his right hand, and Tim wraps his hand around his cock as Jensen tenses, his finger breaching himself. Tim runs his tongue across his lips as he watches Jensen finger himself, slowly going in and out with his finger, his left hand leisurely jacking himself.

He lets out a groan as he watches Jensen breach himself with two fingers, and begin to scissor them inside, and then Jensen's body trembles, his cock dribbling more, and Tim knows Jensen's brushed his prostate, and he groans at the sight, heat flaring and curling in his stomach as he watches Jensen, breathless at the sight.

"The condom," Jensen manages a little breathlessly, and Tim jerks a little, surprised by the words as he's so wrapped up in watching Jensen working over his own body.

Tim grabs the little foil packet, rips it open, rolls the condom over his erection, and then barely manages to catch the bottle of lubricant that Jensen tosses him. He coats the condom and then Jensen is there, his mouth roaming over Tim's as he shoves Tim's hand away, grabs the base of Tim's cock, and guides himself down.

He groans as Tim's cock slips past that tight ring of muscle. He stills, body going rigid, and then he lets out a breath as he continues to lower himself, his eyes squeezed shut and his bottom lip between his teeth at the burn and stretch of Tim's cock, until finally Tim is all the way inside.

Tim has to restrain himself as Jensen begins to wiggle on top of him, then raise himself and drop back down again. By the third time Jensen does this, Tim can't take it anymore. He darts forward, his lips locking over Jensen's mouth, and it doesn't take him long to get Jensen on his back as he pulls out and pushes back in. Jensen's legs wrap around him, ankles digging into Tim's back, his hands clawing into the covers of the bed. Tim reaches between him, his hand wrapping around Jensen's leaking cock, and then Jensen stills beneath him and arches up, mewling, and Tim knows he's found Jensen's sweet spot.

He continues to roll his hips, brushing Jensen's prostate, biting down in the curve of Jensen's neck, his hand working up and down the shaft of Jensen's swollen cock. He feels Jensen clench tighter around him, and lets out his breath in a hiss, and Jensen's heels dig harder into his back as his body begins to shake, his cock twitching, and he comes, hot, messy, and hard, his come splashing across his stomach and Tim's, and with the added tightness of Jensen's body, Tim finds himself coming as well as he struggles to concentrate on working Jensen's cock through his orgasm. Tim arches his back as Jensen manages to sink his teeth into his neck and then the heat changes between them, spreads through their bodies as they both struggle to catch their breath.

As their breathing slows Tim pulls out carefully, removes the condom, ties it off, and drops it to the floor. He'll worry about it later. Right now he's damn near exhausted and Jensen is mouthing lazy kisses across his chest.

Somehow they manage to slip beneath the covers in a sweaty, sticky mess. Tim pulls Jensen against him, his eyes slipping shut as Jensen's long, calloused fingers trail up and down his ribs.

----------

The warmth on his face is what wakes him. He lets out a groan and stiffens a little as he realizes a couple of things, first there is the warm weight of a very naked man laying half on top of him, and kind of drooling on his shoulder, and he's in a very comfortable, but very unfamiliar bed. He shifts a little, opening his eyes carefully and looking down at the light brown spiky head of Jensen Ackles. A smile tugs at his mouth as Jensen squirms a little closer to him and nuzzles at the base of his throat with his nose.

He takes in a deep breath, and it hitches in his throat as that clever, calloused hand of Jensen's slips down his stomach and curls around the base of his growing morning wood, and when Tim raises a brow and looks down at the man, a pair of sleepy, green eyes and a wicked smirk look right back at him.

"Mornin'," Jen says in a sleepy, slight Texas drawl, as he begins to work his hand along Tim's very awake cock.

Tim's head falls back against the pillow, his neck arched and Jensen licks along his throat and bites down at the curve of his neck, working Tim's cock harder, and then he changes tactics, straddles Tim, ruts against him as he nips Tim's bottom lip and then slips his tongue into Tim's mouth, and the older man gives in, rolling his hips up into Jensen's. It's a slow, lazy pace, but after a few moments it gets more heated, erratic, faster, until Tim comes, and Jen follows shortly after, and not only are they crusty with the come from the night before, but now there's fresh, sticky warmth between them. And while they are both gross, they don't really mind so much, and then Tim has the best idea ever and asks Jensen where the shower is.

The shower is nice, until the water starts running cold, and they climb out a little chilled, but sated for the moment. There's a quiet between them, not really awkward, just comfortable, companionable, and it kind of makes Tim wonder. There's breakfast, eggs and bacon and coffee, and Tim gathering his clothes up in the living room and dressing, rather than continuing to run around the house in a towel that Jensen has taken to snatching every chance he gets.

It's like being a teenager all over again, and Tim likes the feeling, even if he's barely known Jensen for twenty-four hours and the guy probably thinks Tim is the easiest lay in the history of ever.

Finally it starts to get late. Noon comes around, and Tim wants to go and see his girls. Jensen walks with him to the door. Nothing is strained between them, just fresh, new, open. Something that could maybe be something special, a warmth uncoiling and spreading in Tim's stomach.

Tim gives Jensen a smile as he opens the door of the condo to go out, the cab he called already pulling into the drive. Jensen grabs his shirt and drags him in for a kiss, a lingering kiss that promises all kinds of things, things that one night shouldn't lead to, at least that's what Tim's head says. His gut is telling him different.

As he pulls back he blinks at the brilliance of bright white teeth and blazing green eyes. Looking at Jensen Ackles is like staring down the sun. It's not something one is likely to forget.

He pulls back with a little sigh, jumps when Jensen's hand smacks his ass and he turns with narrowed eyes. Jensen just lifts a brow, smirking at him as he leans against the doorframe and rubs the back of his left knee with his right barefoot. Tim just shakes his head and has a grin spread on his face as he heads toward the cab.

It's about ten minutes later when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He sighs, wondering if maybe it's Drew or Dean or one of his girls. He pulls the phone out, sees that he has a text message. He opens the message and chuckles as he reads:

No xcuses. U got my number. I got urs. Don't be a stranger. Jen

Tim hits the reply button.

Drinks l8r?

A moment later his phone vibrates again.

Ur buyin. I ain't a cheap date.

Tim sends a reply in the positive and grins as he pockets his phone. He'll see his girls, try to talk to Alexis, and then call Jen later to find out when to pick him up.

End.