Word Count: 6809
Rating: This chapter PG-13, (but it will get higher in later chapters)
Summary: Jensen Ackles works a nine to five job, along with his friends he’s a cubicle captive but he has an escape, he writes. Now his hobby has become something more, he’s become an internet author and now his writing has a fan following. Unfortunately for Jensen one particular fan wants more than just his autograph. Can detective Jared Padalecki stop Jensen’s devoted acolyte, before it’s too late.
Disclaimer: Once more I proclaim with great sadness that I neither own, nor know the men I have generally abused during the writing of this story. All ideas are pure fiction and I meant no harm, ok mostly no harm, and Jensen I’m really sorry.
Notes: This story was supposed to be my entry for this year’s Big Bang, but real life mugged me and now I’ll be posting as and when I finish more chapters. As always many thanks go to bigj52 , my beta and all round awesome woman, who puts up with my rambles. Feed back is always welcome.
Ackles....Hey Ackles....GODAMNIT ACKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jensen smiled as the internal messenger pinged on his screen. He didn’t even need to check on who it was, only Kane could actually manage to yell on a computer screen. Jensen blithely ignored the constant pinging as his friend tried to get his attention. He was only minutes away from completing his figures for this month, and there was no way Christian Kane was going to distract him.
Then over the top of his cubicle came a piece of paper, being slowly lowered on a chain of paper clips. It had but one word scrawled on it in a shaky hand...... WATER. Jensen’s shoulders slumped and he knew he’d been beaten. He raised his eyes to find his co-workers all looking at him over the tops of their cubicles.
Tom was fanning himself, Mike was mopping his brow and Misha, who had lowered the note was clinging to the edge apparently too weak to stand. All Jensen could see was the tips of his fingers as they curled over the top.
Jensen grinned and grabbed his cup, “Ok, I can take a hint, and do you think Misha will make it to the coffee pot? He looks too far gone from here.” Jensen leaned over to look at Misha as he lay face down on his key board.
“I say we leave him where he is, and go and meet Kane.” Mike waved his cup, ready to make a run for the kitchen, keeping a wary eye out for Jim Beaver, their supervisor. Tom shook his head in mock annoyance.
“Mike, dude, how could you leave a fellow cubicle captive here to suffer alone? I thought we were in this together, you know - a band of brothers.” Tom grinned as he spoke.
“Dude, you can keep the all-for-one crap, I’ve only had one coffee. And I was up until three o’clock this morning playing Call of Duty with some dude called mad dog 229! The bastard was lethal.” Mike nearly cracked his jaw with the yawn he gave.
Jensen sighed, “Misha, my old friend, it looks like it’s down to me. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you here. How about I push your chair to the kitchen? I’d offer to carry you but people will talk, plus you know how possessive Beaver gets about me.”
Misha weakly lifted his head and croaked out, “Jensen, is that you? I’m fading fast here.....if I don’t make it.....tell my wife I love her.” With that he coughed weakly and let his head fall forward again.
Mike and Tom applauded the performance, “And the Oscar goes to...Misha Collins. Now get your ass up so we can start pumping caffeine back into Jensen. Our little addict is starting to get withdrawal symptoms.” Mike nodded to Jensen as he shivered dramatically, holding the cup out pleadingly.
The four men laughed and made their way to the water cooler and coffee maker. They turned the corner and came face to face with Christian Kane. Kane grinned at the four men and slung his arm round Jensen’s shoulder. “Dude, and how is my best friend today? Are you well? I do hope that Beaver is not working you too hard. You do realize that you are the most talented worker within the walls of this hallowed institution of Fuller and Kripke......” Kane drew in a breath.
“Whatever it is, Kane, no.” Jensen was trying to disentangle himself from Kane’s arms. He broke free and hid behind Misha, “Collins, save me from that mad man. I’ll do anything, just help me.”
Misha drew himself to his full height, “Listen, you help me set up my presentation for Fuller and it’s a deal.” Jensen grinned in triumph at Kane, and stayed behind Misha.
“Ok then, Collins, here’s the deal. Who do you think will be better at setting up a presentation? Jensen - accounts whiz or me - I.T. genius and website design guru. Think about it.” Kane gave a grin when Misha turned regretfully to Jensen, clapped him on the shoulder and stepped out of the way.
“Ok Kane, he’s all yours, and I need to finish the presentation by Friday.” With that, the two men shook hands and Mike and Tom got ready to hand Jensen over.
“Some frickin’ friends you are. Tom. I’ll remember this next time you want to hide from Jamie’s mom. And Mike, don’t forget I still have the Polaroid’s and a Facebook account.” Mike and Tom looked at one another then at Kane; they hovered indecisively as Jensen squirmed in their arms.
“Tom, you can use mine to hide and Mike, I know where the pictures are and I can hack his account...well, come on, hand him over.” Jensen was just getting ready to make a break for the door when Kane pulled him close.
“Ahh Jen, I only want to borrow your apartment for a night. Nothing sinister. It’s just that I’ve got this date and Steve mom’s coming over...”
Jensen held his hand up to stop Chris, “Dude, stop, I get it. Knowing what you get up to on your dates I couldn’t do that to Steve’s mom. She’d be scarred for life. What night do you need me out of the way?” Jensen grinned at his friend.
“Well, since you ask...tonight - if that’s all right by you. Now don’t look at me like that. Abby’s a flight attendant and she’s got a twenty-four hour stopover here in Dallas. Come on, Jen - flight attendant. It’ll be weeks before she stops by again.”
“Alright, I hate to see a grown man grovel. Just promise me you’ll leave my apartment standing. I remember the last time, it took weeks to clean the mess up.” With that, Kane pulled Jensen into a rib-crushing hug. Jensen tried desperately to get free, “Dude, ribs! I need to breathe. Listen, you kill me now, you don’t get the apartment.”
Kane put him down and slapped him on the back, “Dude, if I squeeze too hard I’d just use the spare keys to your place to honour your memory and generosity of spirit. Oh and can I have your CD collection as well?” Chris grinned hopefully at his friend.
Jensen rolled his eyes, “Remind me why I let you have my spare keys again? And while you’re all here I was going to ask you guys to come over tonight. I got something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
“You let me have your spare keys after the third time you locked yourself out, and what do you want to tell us? Listen, if the night ends up with us arranging your furniture again, I’m too busy to help.” Kane was edging towards the door nervously.
Jensen glared at Kane, “Excuse me. That happened because you and Mike decided on an impromptu game of football in my lounge and the Landlord was coming. The stain is still under the couch, and you’ll just have to come round to hear my news. I was gonna get you guys round tonight but as somebody is planning a night of debauchery at my place...” Jensen moved to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.
Mike moved closer, “You’re getting married, aren’t you? At last Beaver has proposed! Dude, does that mean I get to be a flower girl?” Mike leaned against the wall and batted his eyes at Jensen.
Misha then threw his arms round Jensen and wailed, “How could you? I was saving myself for you, Jensen! Only last week I turned down a romantic rendezvous with Sally from HR in the stock cupboard. You brute! Leading me on, only to dash my hopes. Just promise you’ll throw me the bouquet.”
Jensen managed to disentangle himself from Misha, “Well, the wedding is on hold due to pre-nup problems. There are issues over who gets custody of the souls of the staff here. And Mike, I don’t think frilly pink chiffon is you....” he tilted his head to one side, “Then again... and Misha, if only you’d spoken sooner before I pledged my troth...”
Mike turned to Tom, “Pledged his what? Is that some kinky gay thing? Dude, I’m an innocent. I don’t need to hear stuff like that.” He clapped his hands over his ears; Jensen put his head in his hands and sighed.
He walked over and took Mike’s hands away from his ears, “Mike, from what Tom has told me you haven’t been innocent since you were fourteen, and like I said to Kane you’ll just have to come round tomorrow and find out what I’ve got to tell you. Hey Tom, will you be alright to come over? Or should I entrust Mike with my news?”
Tom was pouring himself a coffee, “What? God no, I’ll be there. If Mike has to tell me by the time I get him sober enough, he’ll tell me you’ve run off with a circus to become a trapeze artist. Shit! You’re not, are you? Jensen, just think of all that lycra you’d have to wear.” There was a whimper from the corner of the room and Misha slumped into Kane’s arms.
“Oh shit! Jensen in lycra! That’s it. I’ve died and this is Heaven. Kane, if this is a dream, don’t wake me. That’s all I ask.” Kane grinned and dropped Misha on the floor.
“For the last time, Collins, you’re straight. What would your wife say?” Misha looked up from the floor and smiled serenely.
“Well, my beloved wife would take one look at Jensen and ask if I could bring him home. But sorry, I refuse to share my secret gay crush. Now can someone please help me up?” Tom leaned forward and hauled him to his feet.
“So what time do you want us to come round? And do we need to bring beer?” Tom attempted to get the conversation back onto a more sane footing. Mike pushed his friend out of the way, poured his own coffee and started to add sugar; they all stared as he added four sugars.
“What? I told you...late night and hell, yeah, we need beer. Come on, Tom, you’re escaping the wife and rug rats for the night. It’s a cause for celebration. Plus we get Jensen drunk enough, we could strip him, take pictures and post them on the office website.”
“Are you trying to get me the sack?” Jensen groaned.
Tom pushed Mike towards the door and back to work, “Jensen, trust me. If he managed that, you’d probably get a promotion. I happen to know most of the women here would kill to see you in a T-shirt, let alone naked. They sack you and there would be a mass walk-out. Have you never noticed how many PAs and junior execs lurk round by our cubicles?”
Jensen looked bemused, “Shit, really? I always thought they were after you guys.” Mike and Kane looked over and groaned at Jensen.
Misha moved closer and stage whispered, “Believe me, my sweetly obliviously boy wonder when I say it’s not only the women who hang round with their tongues out...” His eyes drifted forwards as he grinned at who he saw approaching them. “And to prove my point here comes your biggest fan, good afternoon, Mr Beaver.” Misha moved out of the way rapidly as Jim Beaver, their supervisor approached them with a face like thunder.
“Jensen, where are the figures you were supposed to have on my desk an hour ago?” He looked down at the cup in Jensen’s hand, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did work interfere with your coffee break, Jensen?” With that, he stalked away. Jensen sighed softly and put his cup down. Picking up the figures he’d been working on he turned towards the direction Beaver had stalked off in.
“Guys, it’s been great working with you, and if this is the end, Mike you can have my stapler, Tom the chair is yours. And to Misha I bequeath my plant as I know Mike would kill her within a week. I know you and her have an understanding, considering all the time you spend talking to her. Wish me luck, guys.” The three men stood and saluted as Jensen went to his doom.
Jensen staggered back to his desk after enduring a Jim Beaver special pep talk. He’d spent the best part of an hour being lectured on why it was important to be a team player and how grateful he should be to the company for his career in accounts, and how not many companies would promote a man like him (i.e. not an inbred family member) to the dizzy heights of junior accounts manager. Jensen returned to his desk to find Tom, Mike and Misha standing by with medical aid. This consisted of a fresh cup of coffee from Tom, a bottle of Advil from Mike and a cushion from Misha, who’d placed it in readiness on his chair. He reached over and patted him on the shoulder with the sympathetic words, “Jensen, we could hear him chewing you a new one from out here. This should help when you sit down. And by the way, Kane has sent word from on high; we’re all meeting at yours tonight.”
Jensen dropped into his chair; he looked up and his friends and frowned, “Hang on. What about Abby? You know - hot flight attendant?”
Mike leaned over and said in a conspiratorial tone of voice, “Don’t flatter yourself, my friend. We are just meeting early. You tell us your news then we drag you out for beer and pretzels and make sure that Tom gets home before Jamie revokes his privileges.” Mike ducked out of the way of a paper clip flicked at him by Tom.
The door knocked and Jensen answered it. He was nearly crushed when Tom and Mike were pushed through the door by Misha in an attempt to avoid Kane, who was juggling a six pack and two bottles of wine. Jensen watched in amusement as his friends made themselves at home. Kane loaded up the fridge and Mike and Tom were sprawled over his couch. Misha dropped down onto the floor and sat in the lotus position. Just then Kane walked back and handed out beer to everyone.
“Well, come on then. What did you want to tell us?” asked Kane without preamble.
“And good evening to you too, my friend. I take it Abby will be here soon.” Jensen took a drink of cold beer; Kane glanced over at the clock on the wall.
“Oh ya got all the time you want. She’ll be here in thirty minutes. Don’t rush on my account.” Kane winked at his friend.
Jensen stood in front of his friends, a smile lit up his face, “I suppose you’re wondering why I gathered you all here tonight?” Jensen ducked out of the way of flying cushions and ignored the cat calls that followed that statement.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ve always wanted to say that. No, I have got some good news to share with you.” Before Jensen went any further, a voice floated up.
“Beaver, that bastard has knocked you up, hasn’t he? Not content with breaking mine and all the other girl’s hearts, the cad has forced himself upon you before the wedding.” Misha sniffed loudly and Mike choked on his beer.
“For the last time there’s not gonna be a wedding! “ Jensen said, exasperatedly fighting the urge to throttle his friends.
“Damn, it’s worse than we thought; don’t worry, Jensen, we’ll stand by you. We won’t let you bring up Beaver junior alone. Plus I got some baby stuff I can pass on to you.” Tom grinned at Jensen as Mike and Kane broke down laughing.
Jensen threw his hands up in the air, and then sat down on the couch between Mike and Tom, elbowing Mike in the ribs accidentally as he did so. Misha turned, patted his knee and smiled, “Ok, we’ve had our fun. What’s the good news, man?”
Jensen glanced from one man to another; it looked as if they were going to behave at last. “Right, then. Remember those stories I keep writing?” He waited for a response.
“Would they be the ones you’re always scribbling on your lap top at lunch time? The stories that mean you no longer go out, or date, instead spend your evenings writing? The same works of literature that nearly caused Misha to have a stroke, when he sat reading over your shoulder one lunch time. That time when we actually managed to get you out into the day light. Remember how red he went, and how he refused to discuss what he’d read. But after that he was convinced you were a sex god? Sorry dude, I've absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Kane said deadpan.
“Well, after much consideration and wiping the drool off my shoes from Misha’s not so subtle sneak reading, I finally sent some off to an E-Publisher. And you’re never gonna believe it. I’ve had some stories published in E-books, and I got paid for it.” For several seconds there was silence, and Jensen was worried that something was wrong. Then Mike whooped and leapt to his feet, dragging Jensen with him and hugging him.
“Dude, that’s awesome! More importantly, how much money are you making? And do you need an entourage? Because I can just see myself as your life-style guru, while lounging by your pool in Beverly Hills.”
Mike stepped back and clapped him on the shoulder, “Well, come on, man - details. I want to know how writing porn for a hobby can make you money. Talk. This could be our way out of Fuller & Kripke and if that’s the case I’m chaining you to a desk and forcing you to write eighteen hours a day. Just think. I could be the Hugh Heffner of Dallas, all those bunnies just waiting for me.” Mike ignored the sounds of gagging from Tom.
Misha looked up and Jensen and grinned at him, “I, for one, would like to second Mike’s congratulations and offer my services as a yoga coach. But seriously, how many stories have you published and where do I sign up for the fan club? Also do I get commission for discovering you?” Jensen laughed and sat back down.
“Ok. So far I’ve had a few of my stories published in different anthologies and pretty soon they may publish a novella I’ve written and guys, it’s not all porn. They do publish other stuff as well.”
Kane sat forward “Jensen, that’s great news. Maybe Mike’s right. It could be your ticket out of here, and if there’s an opening for a best friend I’d like to apply here and now.”
“Come on, guys, it’s just a few stories and I’ve have some reviews from readers....” As he said that Mike sat forward, a glint in his eyes.
“I knew it. There are thousands of hot women out there just panting for you. Damn! Why was I only gifted with this gorgeous face and no artistic talent? Listen Jen. How about I be your bodyguard to protect you from the screaming hordes and Misha?”
“It doesn’t work like that, man; I’ve got a pen name I write under, so sorry, no screaming fans.”
Tom squeezed Mike’s shoulder in sympathy when he slumped down, depressed at being deprived of the chance of fighting off Jensen’s adoring fans, “I was wondering about that. Aren’t you worried that someone will find out who you are? I can just see the office besieged by your fans now. How does it work?”
Jensen took another drink as he looked at the expectant faces round him and shrugged. “Alright, my publisher suggested I use a pen name. So Alec Cale was born and all communications go to an email address set up just for him, and it’s really just a few reviews.” Mike and Misha looked at one another and then at Kane.
Kane was already moving. He stood and fetched Jensen’s lap top. In a matter of seconds he was sat on the couch between Tom and Mike with Misha perched on Tom’s lap, looking at the screen. A few key strokes later and they discovered that Alec Cale was the hot new talent, writing for Gabriel Publishing. The four men gaped at what they saw.
“Just a few stories and a couple of reviews? Holy shit, dude! There really is a fan site out there for you. Crap! How many fucking reviews have you got? Jesus, Jensen, this is impressive.” They all looked up at Jensen in awe and he blushed under their scrutiny. Kane whistled as he read some of the reviews, “Dude, have you seen some of these reviews? The way they’re talking we’re in the presence of the next Stephen King or something! Just what happened to all the porn you used to write for fun?”
Jensen laughed, “Kane, it’s all still there. Just that nowadays there is a little bit more plot than there used to be. Well, come on, it’s time to leave Casanova here to Abby.”
“Oh hell! You ain’t getting away that easy. Are all of these legit? I mean, shit, we don’t want to see you tied down to a bed re-enacting ‘Misery’.” Kane asked, concerned.
“Speak for yourself, Kane. I, for one, would love to see Jensen tied down, but enough of my fantasies. Jensen, I hereby offer my services as president of the Alec Cale fan club, and the LJ comm, and MySpace and Facebook account.” Misha stood up, Mike stood up with him.
“And Jensen, to prove what a great friend I am, I’m prepared to lay down my life for you. How about we slip a picture of me on one of those sites of Alec as a decoy, and I’m willing to fend off all the women it will inevitably attract.” Mike offered his protection services once more.
“Mike, I don’t know which of my reviewers are women. User names make it kind of hard to figure out. Besides, most of the stories have gay heroes so there are a few guys in the mix.” As Jensen was speaking, he heard the sound of typing and then saw Kane was reading something. Kane tugged at Mike’s shirt and Mike looked down, his jaw dropped and kept reading."Holy shit, Jensen! There’s a sex scene here between a man and a woman and crap, it’s kind of hot! How did you...?” Mike’s voice faded.
“Dude, you and Kane seriously over share, and don’t forget all girls talk round the water cooler. If you spent a little time listening rather than trying to pick them up, you’d learn a few things. As an author you have to try different styles of writing. So I take it you like it, then?”
Mike blushed and Tom roared with laughter. “Jensen, whatever else you do, I will treasure this moment. I’ve never seen Mike Rosenbaum at a loss for words before. Jensen, I wish you all the best with this and if you do get famous, just remember those unfortunates you leave trapped in their cubicles.” Tom raised his beer bottle in salute.
The others joined in “To Jensen!” Just then the door bell rang and Kane looked up, “Shit, that’s Abby. Listen, can we come round next week, and look over your reviews? I’d just like to make sure everything is alright and you ain’t being conned by this publishing outfit.” Jensen shook his head and took his lap top off Kane.
“My knight in shining armour. If it makes you happy you can all come on over and we’ll look at them together. Just in case there’s a big bad literary critic out there ready to savage my prose.” Jensen put his lap top back on the table and led the others to the door.
He opened it and there stood Abby, a petite blonde with big blue eyes and a sexy smile. Jensen smiled at her “Hi, don’t mind us. We’re just leaving and please ignore any whimpering from my friends as they pass.” Tom and Misha carefully herded Mike who grinned at the startled Abby as they left for the night.
A week later, as promised, as Jensen was waiting for his friends to gather at his, the door knocked and Jensen stood looking at it nervously. After his revelation of his stories being published life had returned to normal, well, as normal as could be expected when you worked with Mike, Misha and Kane. He sometimes thought that he and Tom were more like parents than friends to those three. At their best they were like hyperactive toddlers who’d gotten their hands on too much candy.
Now these men were the self-appointed guardians of his honour, or in Mike’s case he’d offered to personally vet all of his female fans, just to ensure none of them were going to take advantage of him. During the course of the next week the four of them had been drawing up plans to manage Jensen’s literary career, and tonight they were going to reveal the fruits of their labours. Jensen wondered if it was too late to try and make a break for the Mexican border.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. Kane was at the head of the committee again, carrying the beer and he grinned at Jensen in greeting. “Howdy, Jen, are you ready to let us take over your life? After all, we don’t want anything bad to happen to our possible cubicle escapee, do we, boys?” Kane swept through the door, handing Jensen the beers and made his way to the couch.
Then came Mike and Misha with almost identical smirks on their faces. Jensen felt a twinge of apprehension run through him, and he looked longingly at the open door of his apartment. Tom came through last with a sympathetic smile on his face, and he closed the door behind him. He wrapped his arm round Jensen’s shoulder and guided him towards his fate, “Sorry Jen, what can I say? I promised those three I’d make sure you didn’t make a run for it. Look, I promise to rein ‘em in if they get too carried away.” Jensen looked at Tom with air of a condemned man being led to his execution.
Tom sat Jensen down on the couch and suddenly Kane produced his lap top and booted it up. Jensen found himself staring at the new and improved Alec Cale blog with some of his best reviews, descriptions of his stories, and a space for forthcoming attractions. He looked at his friends, shock clear on his face, “God, thanks guys! I don’t know what I was expecting when you said you were gonna do this. Maybe some cheesy porn music and shots of a half-naked Mike to lure young and impressionable female readers or aging perverts, I wasn’t sure which. Misha, have you really set up a fan club? Because it says so in the right-hand corner.” Jensen looked over as Misha beamed at him.
“Worry not, Jensen, it was Mike’s idea. If there is gonna be a fan club we are going to police it for you and keep those nasty, horrible stalkers at bay. Besides, if anyone is going to stalk you, I fully intend it to be me. So then, are you ready to go through your reviews with us? I promise we won’t be nasty to your adoring fans, and if there are any we think may be lurking to steal your underwear, we’ll just set Kane on them.” Kane growled from the armchair and crossed his legs.
“Look, guys. For the last time, I don’t have any stalkers. I’ve been doing this for the last six months and all my interactions have been very civil and not one of them have mentioned wanting a pair of my boxers, either with me in them or just on their own.”
Mike took a swig of his beer, “Well, thank god for that. It would end up costing you a fortune in boxers. Now there’s an idea, Misha. We’ll set it up in the fan club - Alec Cale Merchandise, boxers with my face on, mugs, mouse mats. Dude, we could make a fortune...hey, how about T-shirts?”
Jensen choked on his beer and Tom smacked him on the back until he could breathe. Finally, with tears rolling down his face, he croaked out, “Oh dear god, I’ve created a monster. Shit! That’s why I’ve not wanted to tell you guys. And for the love of god, no boxers or T- Shirts, do you hear me?”
Mike and Misha pouted at him, Jensen braced for what was coming as the two men got up and stood in front of him. He realized they hadn’t taken their jackets off. As one the two men unzipped their jackets and Jensen sat transfixed by two lurid pink T-shirts with the legend, Founder members of the Alec Cale Fan Club, on the front. They turned around and on the back was - I know who Alec Cale is, and if you spend the night with me I promise to tell you in the morning.
Jensen burst out laughing, “So this is your idea of protecting my identity? Offering my real name in return for sexual favours?” Mike sat back down and grinned at him.
“Oh hell, yeah! Now listen here, my little Ernest Hemingway reincarnation. We just want to look out for you.” Jensen knew he’d regret asking but he had to.
“And just how is sleeping with ‘my fans’ going to protect me?”
“Simple. If they’re desperate enough to sleep with Misha and Mike then they are definitely certifiable. All that remains is for me and Tom to swoop in with the butterfly nets.” Kane waggled his eyebrows at him.
“Ok. Then I hereby declare this meeting of the Alec Cale fan club open for business. Right, Jensen. We need to know if you have any regular reviewers and do they want to know anything personal about you.” Kane was all business in the corner. Jensen sighed; he loved Kane like a brother but sometimes the guy was way overprotective of him.
Jensen rolled his eyes and became aware of Mike leaning ever closer to him. Mike was staring intently at him, “What? Have I got something stuck in my teeth? Look! For the last time, it’s all harmless. All the reviews I get are concerning my stories, and no one has asked if I’m single, straight or gay. I’m an online author, for pity’s sake! The best I can hope for is to earn enough to go on vacation somewhere nice.” Jensen’s tone was frustrated as he spoke; Mike threw his arm round him and pulled him close.
“Jensen, my friend, all we ask is for you to be careful, and that you earn enough to take us all somewhere nice on vacation. And if you’re feeling generous, you’d let Misha put your sun block on for you.” From the floor where Misha sat in his customary place there came a moan at the mention of Jensen and sun block.
“Down, Misha. Well, come on, Jensen. Do you have any regulars? Look, just own up now and Charlie’s angels here will calm down.” Tom encouraged Jensen to talk.
“Well, if you have been checking out my reviews you know I’ve got a few regulars, and I talk to some of them, mostly about my stories and where I draw inspiration from.” Jensen took another drink of beer.
“Yeah, that would be sixth-sense11, Bobbysgirl, Black-King69, Acolyte0301, and my personal favourite, purple-eclipse. Along with a few others, they are your most notable reviewers.” Jensen and the others looked down at Misha in surprise as he said that.
“What! When you’re setting up a fan club you have to get to know your fan base, and I gotta agree with Jensen, there is nothing kinky. But dude, some of them get real intense about your stories. Any of them really looking forward to your novella? You know...maybe contacted Alec’s email personally.” Misha tilted his head back to look up at Jensen.
“A few of them have contacted me, but again it’s mostly about the stories. Nothing to ring any alarm bells, so come on, guys, that’s enough. I thought we were gonna sit here and mock my hobby not become my personal bodyguards.” With that, Jensen stood up and went to the fridge for more beer. When he returned from his kitchen, he saw the four men squashed together on his couch, looking through his latest reviews. He could hear them talking about Kane’s date last week.
“Well, come on then, Kane, details. I need to know. I’m going through a dry spell at the moment and don’t forget there are two married men here who have probably forgotten what sex is.” Mike nudged Kane with his foot.
“Oh, the evening went great, thank you. Abby is very...flexible. Well, I should say it was going great until Jensen came back.”
“What did he do? Burst into his bedroom with a bucket of water? Fling open the door screaming ‘Oh Christian, how could you’? Or oh fuck, he didn’t take his clothes off, join you in bed and grope you in front of Abby, did he? And is there video of that one? The girls in the office would pay top dollar for that.” Mike sounded breathless at the prospect of that.
“No, he quietly let himself back in. He was just getting a drink of water from the kitchen when Abby wandered out of the bedroom with the same idea. And no, she wasn’t naked; she was wearing my shirt. She asked Jensen what he was doing in my apartment. And Jensen, the bastard, promptly told her that I was letting him crash in the spare bedroom after he’d fled his abusive boyfriend. I found ‘em sat on the couch with Jensen crying on Abby’s shoulder as she was comforting him. Ya know, if I didn’t know he was gay I’d swear he was well on his way to scoring with Abby.”
Mike was hanging on every word. When Jensen handed him his beer he looked up in awe at Jensen, “Dude, you really should share how to do that with us. I mean, getting a half-naked girlfriend of Kane’s to cuddle you - pure fucking genius. Maybe I should try that. Say Tom has beaten me black and blue and I need looking after. Do you think it would work?”
Misha took the beer Jensen offered him and spoke to Mike, “Never in a million years, man. You need to give off the ‘I’m hot but vulnerable’ vibe Jensen’s got. You’re just pure shark. Right then, let’s get on with these reviews. Hey look, it’s Acolyte0301. This one’s always great value.” With that they settled down to help Jensen with his reviews.
After they had all gone and he’d cleaned up his lounge, Jensen dropped down onto his couch and flicked back on to his lap top. He’d had a great evening with the guys. They discussed his stories and the reviews and they had been pretty sensible; even Mike had behaved. They all agreed there was nothing for him to worry about and just to carry on with what he had been doing. But he’d still had to promise Mike if any hot blondes sent him their picture he would pass on Mike’s picture in return. Also they were coming over to do the same next week, but Jensen knew it would be an excuse to come over and just drink beer and generally misbehave under the guise of helping him out.
He saw there was an email from Acoylyte0301 waiting for him and as he read it, he smiled. He enjoyed talking to Acolyte0301. They were always friendly and they seemed to grasp what Jensen was trying to achieve with his words. Jensen responded to the email and shut down the lap top. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “Time for bed. I better make sure I do some writing tomorrow. I promised Richard I’d send him another couple of short stories.” He made his way towards his bedroom and turned out the lights.
How do you put up with those idiots you call friends, Jensen? They have no idea what a wonderfully talented human being you are. Not only are you beautiful on the outside but that beauty carries into your very soul. I have seen it through your words. They soar and make me feel alive, and I know that you are writing those words just for me.
I enjoyed tonight, watching as your friends worried that you are at risk of being stalked or hurt by one of your fans. How amusing. In reality they are afraid of you outgrowing them, leaving them behind. So instead, they choose to mock and belittle you. How could they ever imagine that one of your readers would ever hurt you? I would never allow that, you are mine to protect and care for.
I’ve known that from the very first moment I saw you and you do need my protection, Jensen. I know as it was so very easy to gain entry to your apartment. The security is very lax; when you and I are together I will ensure that no one will ever violate our home. To that end I have been forced into keeping watch over you from a distance, but the cameras I’ve installed in your apartment mean I can remain close. It’s too soon for us to meet as I want us to, you might be overwhelmed by my depth of feeling for you. I never want to scare you; I only want to love you and for you to love me in return as I know you will.
And this is why I was happy when you began to publish your stories. It meant that you and I could finally talk. Although I can’t reveal my identity to you I feel we are growing ever closer to one another. There is a bond between us and I know you feel it too.
I love watching you when you are alone; your movements are more relaxed, sensual even, without the world’s eyes upon you. I know you feel trapped by your looks; that most people concentrate on your appearance, but Jensen, you should never feel ashamed of your beauty. You are perfect as you are. You joke about your freckles and your bow legs but they add to your charms, not detract from them. I would never wish to change a thing. As you undress for bed I can almost feel the warmth of your skin beneath my fingers, to be able to trace those freckles and caress your body brings a rush of desire. I take several deep breaths. Tonight I must be content to watch as you slip between the sheets.
Soon, my Jensen, we will be together and for now I must be patient, but I think it perhaps it is time for me to speak to you directly. For so long I have chatted to Alec, shared my thoughts on your work, but now I want to speak to you. I think you will be receptive to me; I want you to get to know me.
I reach for my lap top. It is time to send you another message; my fingers hover over the keys. How should I start this? I know it should be simple - a straightforward introduction. My fingers dance over the keys and I’m happy with what I’ve written. I take one last look at you as you sleep; soon I will be next to you. No longer separated from you by screens and wires. I can’t wait for the day I hold you in my arms.
The next morning as Jensen drank his first cup of coffee of the day, he decided to check his emails, and there was the usual spam and one from Mac. He smiled as he read that, then he saw a name that made him sit up. It wasn’t possible; he’d been so careful. He looked at the email address and he clicked on the email not knowing what to expect. The message was simple but it should’ve been impossible for him to be tracked down...
Good morning Jensen,
I know this will come as a surprise, but I have wanted to talk to you directly for some time. I hope you are well and I look forward to continuing with our conversations.
Yours in friendship