Title: White Wedding
Author:
rose_the_hat
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Words: 31,000-ish
Summary: In which Mob Boss Jensen finally marries his Enforcer Jared Padalecki
Notes: Third installment in my October Rust ‘verse. Set five years after the events in The Power Behind The Throne and King Nothing. You need to have read those to understand this as this references events that happened in the previous stories. I wanted to write something more light-hearted and fluffier with these ultra-violent characters.
Much love as always to
jdl71 for being awesome and reading the same shit multiple times to help me keep my timeline straight. ♥
Fic title is the Billy Idol song.
Three days before the wedding The Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek closes to the public. Jensen and Jared didn’t need all of the mansion’s 142 rooms—only eighty people received invites to their wedding—but bought them out nonetheless. They wanted no unauthorized people in the hotel. Security for the wedding and at the mansion itself was tight. The Organization’s own security force was supplemented by that of the Marchesi Family, who were honored guests, furthering the bond between the Ackles Organization and the Marchesis. No one without an invitation and a special QR Code would be permitted inside the Rosewood. The guest had to present both, not just one. As it was the local Dallas media was camping out in front to get shots of the guests as they entered the hotel.
They had checked into the penthouse suite on the ninth floor. Members of the IC would be arriving sporadically within the next few hours. After that other high ranking members of the Organization and finally other guests would be arriving. Samantha was fluttering around the venue working with their events coordinator to see to décor and other little details. With the big details of the wedding sorted and Ms. Smith taking care of the little ones, Jensen had more time to stress about where the fuck his son was. The wedding was hours—seventy two—away now and Jensen still had not been able to contact Colin. His worry about the boy was increasing each time he called and got no answer. Colin was supposed to arrive home in the next day or so for his tux fitting with Mark Sheppard.
As the concierge walked them to the penthouse, Jensen leaned to whisper to Jared, “Colin called you recently?”
Jared’s gaze locked with his for a moment, meticulously groomed brows coming together for a faction of a second in a concerned frown. Jensen’s gut tightened. He had his answer before Jared spoke. “No. He’s probably packing and shit. Don’t worry, Jense. He’ll be here.”
Jensen felt Jared’s big hand low on his back, the touch soothing him a tad, but not erasing his growing worry.
The penthouse suite was nearly 3000 square feet, light and airy. The wide floor to ceiling Palladian arch windows would provide a spectacular view. There was a kitchen with a cozy corner dining area with a plush L-shaped couch. Tasteful black and white prints hung on the walls. Cream colored sofa and matching club chairs in the living area. There are built in shelves with books and objet d’art on them. Jared wanders off to explore while Jensen listens to the concierge’s spiel with a bland smile.
“If there is anything you require, gentlemen, please do not hesitate to ask,” the concierge said. “We at the Rosewood are thrilled and honored you have chosen our hotel to host your wedding. May you both have many happy years ahead of you.”
Jensen peeled off four one hundred dollar bills and handed them to the hotel porters who brought up their luggage.
“Thank you very much.” He shook their hands and flashed a smile. They returned his smile and departed. Jensen turned to the concierge. “My fiancé and I would like a bottle of Glenfiddich, eighteen years old, and Macallan twenty-five years old, can you get them for us, please?”
“Of course, sirs, not a problem,” the concierge said. Jensen shook his hand, passing him a couple of hundred dollars, then closed the door, and went in search of Jared.
He wasn’t in the living area or the bedroom. He was about to check the bathroom when he spotted him out on the rooftop terrace. It was furnished with a wicker couch and chairs and a distressed wood and glass topped coffee tables. Jared was lounging lazily on the couch, long legs spread wide, lighting up a fat Cuban cigar. Jensen’s heart sped up as he observed the man he loved, the man he would marry in 72 hours. A month ago it seemed unreal, but the nearer the wedding got the more the reality sunk in. Jared Padalecki would become Jared Ackles. They would be bound together legally forever. It didn’t seem long enough.
Jensen strolls out onto the terrace. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest. “Not sure smoking is allowed.”
Jared exhales a plume of fragrant cigar smoke and fixes Jensen with a sardonic expression. “I do whatever I want.”
Jensen shivers, dick plumping up. He licked his lips, watching as Jared sucked on the fat cigar and blew out another column of smoke, head tilted back exposing the elegant throat. Jensen closed the distance to stand in front of the sexiest man he had ever known. Jared curled his index finger around the cigar and removed it from his mouth. His heated gaze rakes Jensen’s body, fixing on his growing chub tenting his slacks.
“Want some help with that, baby?”
Jensen’s throat was dry and he tried to swallow, couldn’t, and nodded. “Yes, Sir, please.”
“C’mere. Got a nice seat for you.” Jared cupped his crotch and squeezed it.
Jensen climbs onto Jared’s lap, legs bracketing Jared’s slim hips. He wraps his arms around Jared’s neck, knots his fingers in Jared’s long soft hair. Jared’s strong arms come around his waist, big hands spanning Jensen’s wide back. He lowers his head as Jared tilts his head up and their mouths collide in a fervent kiss, teeth nipping at lips, tongues delving into one another’s mouths. He can feel Jared’s hard length beneath him and he fucking aches to have it inside him.
He pulls back, breaking their kiss. “Please, Sir. Can I ride your cock?” He gives a little teasing bounce.
Jared’s eyes gleam and he smirks. “Got lube, baby?”
Shit, Jensen inwardly curses. He clambers off Jared and rushes back into the suite. He rips into his smallest piece of luggage, tossing shit everywhere in search of his toiletry bag. Of fucking course it’s at the bottom. He opens and upends it. He grabs the bottle of lube and races back out to the terrace. He staggers to a stop at the decadent sight that greets him. In the short amount of time Jared has shucked his slacks and shirt. He’s got that fucking cigar in his mouth, smoke drifting up from the glowing end, and his cock in his hand slowly stroking the delicious hard length, while he fondles his balls with his other.
“Better get that hole ready for me,” Jared drawls around the cigar. “My hands are kinda full.”
Jensen strips out of his clothes, eyes latched on Jared’s big cock, the thick vein on the underside, the head leaking. As Jensen watches, Jared’s thumb teases another drop from the slit. He’s torn between wanting it in his mouth as much as in his ass.
He flips open the cap on the bottle of lube and squeezes some out on his fingers. He reaches behind himself and rubs his hole. Jared pulls on his cigar and lazily strokes his dick all the while watching Jensen play with his ass, eyes dark with desire.
He quickly jams one finger, then two, then three in his ass. It’s good but not enough. Fuck wanting to suck Jared, as good as that is, he craves that cock in his ass, craves being stretched wide and stuffed full.
“So eager, aren’t ya, baby?” Jared asks. “Need what I got right here, don’t ya?” Jared takes a deep drag off his cigar and exhales a column of smoke. He looks exactly like what he is, an arrogant and dangerous man.
Jensen is so turned on he can’t breathe. He nods.
Jared stops stroking that beautiful dick, removes his cigar from his mouth, and rests his arms along the back of the sofa in invitation. “Come take it.”
Jensen feels weak in the goddamn knees as he closes the short distance between them. He climbs back into Jared’s lap. He grips the base of Jared’s cock and guides it to his slippery hole, and lowers himself down on it, eyes rolling back and moaning at the initial sting. A deep groan rumbles up from Jared’s throat. His eyes on Jensen are smug as hell and pupils so wide his eyes look like obsidian.
Jensen lifts up and sinks down establishing a smooth rhythm. Jared watches him, smoking his cigar, occasionally tilting his head back to groan or sigh in satisfaction, but otherwise offering no help, letting Jensen fuck himself.
“Love watching you ride me, baby. You take what you want, what you need; then I am going to wreck...that…ass.” Jared reaches back to grab one of Jensen’s asscheeks, then gives it a hard smack.
Jensen moans. He clenches his inner muscles, speeding up, rotating his hips seeking the spot inside him that will have him seeing stars. The fact that Colin has been out of touch for days, the fact that they are fucking in broad daylight, although the terrace is somewhat private, someone across the way could see them. He doesn’t care. He wants Jared. He wants to come, wants Jared to fulfill his promise to wreck him. But Jared always does.
“Fucking slut,” Jared sneers and smacks his ass again. Jensen flushes all over. His heart beats out of control in his chest. Sweat trickles from his brow and down his face. How is Jared still so in control when Jensen feels like he’s coming undone? He loves that he can do this to him, get him to let go, and forget everything, lose himself in sensation and pleasure, existing only with Jared—for Jared.
“What do you say to Sir, for letting you use his cock for your pleasure?”
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” Jensen pants. “Love your cock, Sir. So fucking big, feels so fucking good inside me.”
Jared nods magnanimously and brings his cigar to his mouth for another deep drag. Jensen is turned on and infuriated at the same time. Jared and his fucking aloof exterior while Jensen bounces and writhes on his cock. The bastard. Jensen’s fingers grip Jared’s shoulders tighter and he rides even harder, the smack of their bodies colliding, so loud and dirty. Jensen rocks his hips so Jared’s cockhead rubs over his prostate on each downstroke, pleasure cascading down his spine. Jared is sitting so far back that Jensen cannot even get friction on his poor aching cock from Jared’s washboard fucking abs. He lets out a little frustrated whimper. He can feel his orgasm tickling his balls, but he can’t quite get there.
“Please, Sir. I need to come. Please touch me. Make me come for you, Sir. Please.”
Jared’s chuckle is low and liquid and menacing. He takes a pull off his cigar, with one hand while with his other he strokes down Jensen’s sweat-slicked chest to tweak a nipple. Jensen throws his head back as pleasure ricochets through him pushing him closer to what he knows will be a mind-blowing orgasm—they always are with Jared. He whimpers. It’s still not enough. He knows Jared wants him to beg.
“Sir, please. Your hand o-on my cock. Please Sir. I need to come so bad. It hurts. Please, Sir.” He’s lost the rhythm of his ride now, just grinding down hard against Jared’s cock, seeking fulfillment just out of reach.
“Poor, baby. Your Sir never wants you to be in pain.”
Jared curls his big hand around Jensen’s cock in a tight fist and jerks him hard and fast. Jensen moans at the delicious friction. Jared’s thumbnail teases his slit and that is it. Jensen throws his head back and comes hard, shooting thick ropes of jizz all over his and Jared’s chest and stomach.
Jensen slumps forward; breathless, boneless from his orgasm, and, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Jared deadlifts Jensen as he stands up, cock still buried in Jensen’s ass. The amount of hot this is is ridiculous and the smirk on Jared’s lips tells Jensen that he knows it. Jensen wraps his legs tight around Jared’s hips and arms around his neck and holds on.
Jared gets them to the bedroom and lays Jensen down on the pristine white comforter, cock slipping from Jensen’s body. As soon as Jensen is flat on his back Jared grips his wrists and holds him down.
“You got what you wanted. Now, I’m going to get what I want.” Jared’s voice is dark with desire.
Jared thrusts in hard and Jensen cries out. He fucks into him, hitting the right spot every time. Jensen is long past the time when he can get hard with little refractory period, but he lays there and enjoys the sensation of Jared reaming his ass.
“Oh, God. Yes. Please. Anything you want, Sir. Anything. You can do anything to me, love you so much.”
Jared fucking growls. He hooks his arms under Jensen’s knees and hikes his legs up higher so he can thrust in even deeper. Jensen’s eyes roll back in his head as Jared’s strokes increase in speed and intensity.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jensen moans wantonly as Jared fucks him hard and deep not caring at all about Jensen, just using him for his own pleasure. It shouldn’t be hot but it is. Everything Jared does to him, and with him, is hot. Jared knows how far to go, how much he can take, and push. It’s never enough and too much at the same time.
Jensen is folded in goddamn half, thighs pressed to his chest, and ankles around his ears. He really is too old for this. His muscles and ass are going to be complaining about this rough treatment tomorrow. It’s so fucking hot, so fucking dirty, and that just makes it so much better. Right now Jensen does not care. He doesn’t care about anything. Sweat drips down from Jared’s hairline, trickles down along the sharp line of his jaw. Jensen levers himself up and licks away the salty drop.
“I’m so fucking close, baby. You want this load?”
“God, yes, please, Sir. Always want it.” He knows Jared isn’t going to last long, not with the frenetic pace he has set. Jensen scratches his nails down Jared’s back, feeling the flex of his muscles, the sweat coating his skin. He grips the firm cheeks, fingers dipping into the crease, and rubs over the tightly furled muscle between. Jared howls as he spills deep inside Jensen.
After his orgasm recedes, he collapses on top of Jensen, panting wetly against his neck before pulling out and rolling to his side. Jensen feels the flood of Jared’s cum leak from him.
“Think sex will still be this hot once we’re married?” Jared asks cuddling Jensen close.
Jensen huffs a laugh, tucking his head under Jared’s chin, he plays absently with the hair on Jared’s chest. “I can’t imagine a time when sex with you won’t be hot. When we’re ninety it’ll still be intense.”
“Calling it now. We die fucking. Hearts explode in our chests as we come.”
“Not a bad way to go,” Jensen muses.
“What say we go test out that big rain shower in the bathroom?” Jared says after a beat.
He is sticky with sweat and cum. “I think that is a great idea.”
After a very thorough shower, and an even more thorough rimming and blow job from Jared in said shower, they are seated in the dining area, wrapped in soft fluffy bathrobes, and enjoying brunch.
The worry that Jared had temporarily blasted from his mind rolls back in like the reliable tide. In a little under 69 hours from now he and Jared will be getting married and Colin is still off the grid.
“I wish Colin would return my calls. Have you checked your messages?” He’s trying to enjoy the spinach, heirloom tomato, and goat cheese frittata, but his guts are back to churning with nerves. “Yes, and still nothing from the kid. You know I’d tell you if I heard from him, Jense,” Jared’s voice is soft with concern, gaze equally so. Jensen knows Jared is trying to hide his own worry from Jensen. He notices that Jared isn’t eating his blueberry baked French toast with his usual gusto.
Jensen sets his fork down and slouches back into the crook of the corner. “I know Colin keeps to himself a lot, but this is different. This close to our wedding. I don’t want to think something happened to him but I’m not sure what else to think.”
Jared pushes his plate away and slides closer to Jensen, puts an arm around him and tucks him close. “I don’t think it’s that,” Jared says voice solid and stern, a little bit of Sir creeping in and Jensen can’t help but respond to it, be soothed by it, someone else taking control, taking on Jensen’s worry. “When Colin came home for break, he found me in the billiards room. He obviously wanted to ask my advice about something, something personal, maybe even relationship-y. You know Colin takes after you in that regard, keeps his intimate life very much on lockdown. If you want my honest opinion, I think he’s in love for the first time and our wedding is bringing it home to him.”
Jensen feels a knot of tension inside him lessen but not go away. Instead it brings to the surface another terrifying thought. “He has seemed kinda off since last summer, but more so during spring break. Maybe…maybe he was seeing someone and she hurt him. Hurt him bad. Maybe he fell into a depression or something.”
“What are you trying to say? You think maybe he’s hurt himself? No, Jensen, no way. You’re worried and thinking like that is only going to make it worse.”
“He killed that guy earlier this year, the one who was informing on his crew out there. Maybe he’s dealing with guilt and regret. Maybe who we are and what we do is really sinking in.”
Jared waves a dismissive hand. “If that was the first time Colin had to take somebody out, you might be on to something, but it’s not.”
“Maybe he can’t take the stress of being my successor. I know I’ve put him through a lot teaching him, putting him to work in all the rackets.” Jensen sighs and runs a hand over his face.
“Jensen,” that command in Jared’s voice again. “Stop it. Colin knows the score, always has, and he is okay with taking up the mantle.”
“So were you,” Jensen states.
“Yeah, but, unlike me, Colin is suited to the power. He’s running his own little branch of the Organization out there in Palo Alto. Whatever is going on with Colin,” Jared waves a big hand in an all encompassing gesture, “has to do with a woman. That is my gut feeling. Try to relax and think about something else. Petey will be here tomorrow.”
After twenty years Jensen will trust Jared’s gut instincts.
***
Jared was struggling to keep from bouncing in excitement. Petey, with girlfriend Tara in tow, were arriving any time now. He and Jensen were waiting outside to be the first to greet them. He was excited to meet Tara after all the time Petey had talked about her in his letters. He seemed as in love with her as Jared was with Jensen. Jared could not be happier for his oldest friend.
“Just so you know, I’ve got my own suite on the sixth floor…well, actually, I have the entire floor to myself. We’re not gonna see each other the day before the wedding.”
“Jare—what?” Jensen gazes up at him, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, but his golden brows are furrowed and that luscious mouth is downturned.
“Its tradition. Can’t see each other 24 hours before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
“You cannot be serious,” Jensen says in a deadpan that would make Petey proud.
“Oh, I can and I am. I got some shit to take care of on my own anyway. Groomzilla shit.” He tips Jensen a wink.
He can feel Jensen’s eyeroll. “Okay, ya diva. Also, I think the actual tradition dictates we aren’t supposed to see each other the day of the wedding.”
Jared just grins. He wants everything to be perfect for their wedding day. He has a visit with a stylist booked and a final fitting with Sheppard for his new wedding suit. He was so excited and happy about the look he had chosen. He couldn’t wait to see Jensen’s reaction to it. He was going to slay, as the kids said nowadays. Wait. Did they still say that? Probably not.
“I still can’t get a hold of Colin,” Jensen says, his voice is even and level but Jared can hear the worry laced through it. “Have you heard anything?”
Jared squeezes Jensen’s hand. “No, but you already know what I think. He wants to be left alone.”
Jensen sighs and hangs his head. “He wouldn’t not return all the calls and texts, Jared; not after nearly a week and not this close to our wedding.”
Jared bends slightly and presses a kiss to his temple, rubs his hand up and down Jensen’s back, feels the tension coiled in the muscles under the silk. “You said he was due in today; so, if he doesn’t show up after today we’ll go out to Cali and find him. We’ll postpone the wedding if we have to.” He kisses Jensen’s temple again. This wedding is the most important thing to him, but Colin is the (second) most important thing to Jensen. Jared will do anything to smooth that crease of worry from between Jensen’s brows and lift the tension from his shoulders.
“Jare….” Jensen’s gaze is so full of love and regret.
“It’s okay,” Jared says and bends, taking Jensen’s mouth in a kiss.
“You bastadahs cahn’t even wait ‘til tha weddin’ night?”
Jared pulls back from Jensen’s soft mouth at the basso rumble of Petey’s voice. Beside him, Jensen smiles fondly and shakes his head.
A big black Navigator has pulled to a stop and Petey is climbing out of the back. Jesus. Had Jared actually forgotten how massive Petey was? He is still a towering man, but in the last five years Petey has put on some weight, he’s softer, pudgier in the middle, but, with his frame he wears it well. His hair is still halfway down his back, still black, but there is plenty of silver mixed in. He’s also sporting a full thick black beard that could give him a menacing air, but his wide smile and kind eyes soften the effect; he looks as content as Jared has ever seen him.
“Petey!” Jared says gleefully. The years fall away and he’s ten years old again, being befriended by a friendly giant with jet-black hair.
“Jarahd!” Petey wraps his arms around Jared and squeezes the breath from the body, and lifts him from his feet in a herculean bear hug. “Finally makin’ it legal aftah all these yeaahs. Damn happy for ya.”
He returns Jared to the ground and turns to Jensen.
“Jensen, man. Good ta see ya.” He slaps his big hand into Jensen’s and gives a firm shake and a bright smile.
A rush of hotel porters have appeared and extract luggage from the Nav and pile it onto push carts.
“You, too, Pete,” Jensen says. “Who is your lovely companion?”
Beside Petey is a petite woman in her late thirties, with long black hair and a gothic look about her, with her dark eye makeup and deep red lipstick. “This is Tarah, my Goddess.”
“Aww, Pete, you fuckin’ sap,” Jared says.
“Tara VanFlower,” the woman introduces herself and gives them each a firm, no-nonsense, handshake. “Peter talks about you two all the time. So great to put faces with names. Very handsome faces, too, pictures really don’t do them justice.”
“After staring at Petey’s ugly mug for five years I’m sure we’re a refreshing sight.”
“Shut tha fuck up, Jarahd,” Pete says. “Fuckin’ smahtass.”
Being back home in Brooklyn seems to have caused Petey’s accent to thicken. It makes Jared smile.
“Well, welcome to Texas, Ms. VanFlower, and please enjoy all the Rosewood has to offer,” Jensen says with a charming little bow. “Spa sessions, room service, and the mini bar will all be paid for by the Ackles Organization.
She returns his bow with a cute curtsey and sashays into the lobby, the squadron of porters following behind.
“All rigaht, whaht’s wrong?” Pete inquires after Tara has disappeared into the sprawling hotel.
“Jensen’s son has been incommunicado for almost a week. We’re worried something happened to him.”
“Awah, shit. Anythin’ I can do?”
Jensen shakes his head. “No, this is Organization business, Pete. You and Ms. VanFlower enjoy yourselves.”
“All rigaht, but if ya need an extrah paiah of fists, you call.” He tips them a wink and heads into the hotel.
Jensen and Jared watch the big man walk away. “He’s so happy. I knew he sounded like it in his letters, but seeing him….”
Jensen nods, puts an arm around Jared’s waist. “He is,” Jensen agrees. “Seems he found the peace he was looking for. I’m glad for him.”
“Me, too.” Jared gazes down at Jensen and sees that the creases of worry are back on Jensen’s brow. He doesn’t have to see the green eyes to know they are clouded with worry. “You know we’re gonna find Colin and everything is gonna be okay,” Jared says. “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”
***
Jensen cannot fucking sleep. He’s knotted up with worry. He’s getting married to the only man in the world for him tomorrow. But said man in question has gone into full-on Groomzilla mode and made it an edict that he and Jensen not see each other before the wedding. Which…fucking ridiculous. After they had dinner with Pete and Tara last evening, Jared had gone up to the sixth floor, effectively cutting himself off from Jensen until their wedding ceremony tomorrow at three in the afternoon. After twenty years together almost 24/7, he can deal with not seeing Jared. He can. Besides, he can call him or text him. It’s not like Jared believes this superstitious shit, he’s just being a bit of a diva. Jensen thinks it’s kind of adorable so he’ll play along, but he’s lonely in this big penthouse suite. He does miss falling asleep to Jared’s deep even breathing, his big warm body next to him, and the scent of him in his nose. More than that, he’s anxious without Jared, especially with Colin still being missing. He doesn’t think Jared is gonna stand him up or go missing. Nothing like that. He needs Jared to keep away the anxiety that comes with the dark and call him back from the nightmares that still haunt him.
What really has Jensen knotted up with worry is he still hasn’t had any contact with Colin. None. Not a call or even a text. Since Jared has gone off to do whatever last minute things he needs to take care of, he’s been calling Colin pretty much every hour. It doesn’t even ring, just goes straight to voicemail. Jensen’s pretty sure he’s about filled up the fucking kid’s inbox. Where the hell was that bastard? If something has happened to him….
Sighing, Jensen grabs his phone and dials Colin yet again. And again it went immediately to voicemail. Jensen ended the call and dialed Jared. Jared, as Jensen knew he would, answered on the first ring.
“Should be sleepin’, Jense,” Jared’s voice sounded lazy and sleepy, his Texas twang thicker than usual.
“Can’t. He’s not here Jared. Today was the eighteenth. Colin was supposed to be here the seventeenth. And no one has heard from him. I’m scared, Jared.” It costs him a bit to admit he’s beyond “worried” and actually scared. He can’t stop the tremor in his voice. Besides Jared, Colin is the other person in the world he would do anything for.
“It’s okay, baby,” Any trace of sleep that was there moments ago is gone now. “Have you talked to his crew out there? Kathy? Nick? Alex? Dylan?”
Jensen gets himself in a sitting position and rubs a hand over his eyes. “No. Fucking oversight.”
“We got a lot going on,” Jared says dismissively. “Hang tight and lemme do some calling. Okay, baby?”
Jensen says the only thing he can when Jared addresses him as such. “Yes, Sir.”
The call ends and Jensen feels a little better, knowing Jared is in control.
Twenty-five minutes later his cell rings again. He knows it’s Jared and fumbles to accept the call.
“Jense.” Just his goddamn name and Jensen’s blood pressure is already rising. Jared does not have good news.
“Jared. What is it?” Jensen pulls himself into a seated position, fingers tightening on the phone case, heart rate skyrocketing.
“You’re freaking out already.”
“Of course I’m freaking out! My son is missing!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Oh? So you know where he is then?”
“No.”
“But his friends do?”
“No.”
“No!” Jensen tossed off the covers and gets himself out of bed; to do what he doesn’t know, but it feels better to be moving instead of sitting in bed while Colin is God knows where.
“I called his crew and the last time they spoke to him was when he was leaving Palo Alto for the wedding.”
That makes Jensen relax a bit. “Okay, so when? Yesterday? He on a flight?”
“No, he left California a week ago.”
The tension that had relented for a second was back and amplified. “A week ago! Jared, I expected you to find answers!” He ends the call and immediately dials Aldis. The line rings three times and Jensen feels like clawing his face off, but a glance at the clock tells him that Aldis is probably asleep.
“Boss? What’s wrong?” No jokes, no attempts to make small talk, straight and to the point. Aldis would help.
“My fucking son is missing! I need you to find out where the fuck he is. His car, his credit cards, his phone, even his fucking watch, trace all of them! Find him, Hodge!” He doesn’t wait for Aldis to respond. He ends the call and heads toward the closet.
Fucking Colin. Doing this shit.
He has gone long past thinking Colin is holed up with a woman somewhere fucking his brains out. Young or not there is still only so much sex a person can handle.
He’s well past entertaining mundane ideas that his phone is off or out of battery. Keeping in that line of thinking what if his phone was damaged somehow, dropped it in a sink when shaving or something. Still….there are ways to get in touch, landline phones, email, his friends’ phones, sky writing, smoke signals, message in a bottle, overnight delivery letter. Jensen realizes Colin is a child of technology and the thought of a landline phone or even the letter wouldn’t occur to him, but using a friend’s phone would. If nothing else Colin could just go out and buy a new fucking phone. The fact that he is completely AWOL is terrifying.
What if someone got to him, took him, and has been holding him hostage somewhere dark and cold for the last week? Jensen’s skin crawls from his own memories of being held in such a place. He still has issues with the dark and tight spaces but they aren’t as bad as they used to be. When Jensen went missing Jared and his guys immediately knew and went into action. Colin has been missing a week. He could be dead now. Dead. No. Not that.
Jensen takes a breath and blows it out. He tries to think rationally. If Colin had been kidnapped by an enemy or a rival there would have been some contact by now, some ransom demand. Something. There has been nothing. So maybe he can rule that out, or at least put it on a back burner.
Maybe he’s been hurt somewhere. In some kind of accident and lost his memory or something. Did that actually happen in real life though? Maybe not amnesia but maybe he has been dealing with some serious medical diagnosis and didn’t want Jensen to know. Maybe he’s sick in some hospital somewhere and that’s why there has been no contact. Fuck. Maybe he should have Aldis hack into the records of hospitals around the Palo Alto area. Maybe he was dealing with a mental health issue. Colin had seemed a bit distant the last time he came home on break in the spring.
Jensen should be thinking happy thoughts about his wedding in—he looks at the clock—thirteen hours, but instead his heart is pounding out of control and his mind is a mess of anxiety and worry about the young man who has come to mean so much to him.
Jensen was relaxing in the parlor flipping through Jared’s latest issue of GQ and contemplating the secrets of the universe in his glass of Macallan. He absolutely wasn’t waiting up for Colin. That would be stupid. Colin was a grown man and had been working with the Organization for almost seven years now. Through the years Jensen has put Colin to work in varying parts of the Organization. After his freshman year at Stanford he put him to work with Kane’s loan shark crew. After his sophomore year, it was fencing and the chop shops, junior year it was the bookies. Now, it was with Tahmoh Penikett and Brock Kelly’s crew running guns. Colin excelled at whatever task Jensen set him to; he seemed determined to learn and prove himself. It was tremendous the way the kid seemed to blossom. And it was unnerving how he could switch from blond, blue-eyed smiling All-American good ol’ college student to cold blooded killer, because Colin had killed. He wasn’t like Jared in the regard that he liked to kill—Jared liked having control over someone’s life and death—Colin viewed it as Jensen did, a necessary part of business to keep order. Still, running guns was a different, more specialized, area. From the camouflage cargo, to trailers, rigs, routes, drivers, weigh stations and transfers there were always a lot of variables, but his operation was smooth.
Colin had gone on his first run, riding with Brock Kelly, the number two man in the gun running operation. The young and eager guy that Jensen had called into his office so many years ago had transformed into a seasoned, capable, very loyal and trustworthy member of Jensen’s Organization. He and Tahmoh knew everything about their racket. They knew the ports the guns arrived in, the time, the day, they knew the boat and the boat captain that shipped them. They knew every rig and every driver. They knew the contents of every crate, down to the exact number of bullets. They did not suffer any attempts to cheat or undermine them gladly. Jensen felt confident in sending Colin to learn all he needed to from them.
Hell, Jensen had been younger than Colin when he first worked with the gun running crew. It had been exciting, being in the cab of a rig and hauling ass down the interstate. Back when he had been eighteen he hadn’t even thought about all the shit that could go wrong on a run. Christ, he was going to give himself an ulcer. Jensen wonders if his father was this nervous when Jensen started working the gun racket.
The rig that Colin and Brock were in was due back at Transportation Solutions at eleven. Over and over Jensen’s gaze had strayed either to the stately grandfather clock quietly ticking away in the corner or down to the Audemars Piguet watch Jared had given him for their anniversary.
The gentle ticking of the clock and the excellent liquor combined to make Jensen doze off around two in the morning. The front door closing woke Jensen. It took him a second to remember where he was and why. He heard the soft click of heels on the marble foyer.
“Colin? That you, son?”
“Yeah, Dad,” his voice had a cynical lilt to it that made him think of Jared.
He follows Colin’s footsteps across the foyer, but instead of joining Jensen in the parlor and filling him in on how the run went, or chatting idly for a few minutes, he headed for the staircase to go up to his room.
Jensen’s brows came together in a frown. That was odd. Could be Colin was just overly tired.
“Come in here, please,” Jensen called.
The young man appeared in the archway of the parlor but didn’t come closer. Over the last few years Colin’s poker face has gotten pretty good, almost as locked down as Jensen’s own but there are still tells in his overall body language. Yes, there is fatigue there but a tension in his back, and stiffness in the set of his shoulders.
“Everything went alright on the run?”
“Yeah. Eight crates of AR 14s and 9s all delivered to the buyer. The funds transfer confirmed.”
Jensen nods but doesn’t speak, simply observes the young man. Colin has always been tight-lipped about his private life. Jensen understands, and respects that; he would never want to pry, but Colin seems upset, though he is trying hard to hide it. Jensen picks up on the subtle little twitch of a brow, the repetitive swallowing and the way Colin’s eyes cannot seem to meet or hold Jensen’s. “Colin. You can talk to me about anything. Tell me anything,” he prods gently.
“Dad, you already gave me the sex talk, which I didn’t need, at eighteen by the way.”
Jensen finds it interesting that Colin’s first thought went to sex. Maybe he met a girl on the road, had a fling, and was missing her. Maybe he had a girl in California and was eager to get back to her. He would be leaving to start his senior year at Stanford in two weeks.
“Wear a condom is always good advice, Colin. It’s more than that, it’s the tenet of being sexually active.”
“Dad. Just…don’t.” He does a good job of faking a cringe, but it’s forced.
“Sit down for a second, Colin. I want to tell you something my father told me.”
He sighs but sits back down. “I don’t know if you are seeing anyone seriously, but know this, whoever you become involved with also becomes involved in what we do. I was lucky to find Jared, someone who knew the score and wasn’t afraid of the inherent risk in our line of business. The first man I fell in love with, well, he wasn’t like Jared.”
Colin’s mouth opens and closes several times, like he wants to talk, but the words won’t come. Whatever is on his mind is about a girl. Jensen wonders if he or Jared are really qualified to dispense relationship advice, not because they are a gay couple and Colin is straight, but because on some level Jensen realizes the codependency between he and Jared isn’t what most people would deem “healthy”.
“Dad, I love that you are trying to do the father/son thing, but I don’t need it. Honestly,” there is a tiny bit of impatience in Colin’s voice. “May I please head up to bed? I’m tired and I stink from being in a rig for thirty-six hours.”
While he can’t exactly call Colin out for lying, Jensen can, however, tell that the kid is hiding something. “All right,” Jensen says resignedly and dismisses him with a small wave. Colin doesn’t bolt from the room but he definitely moves with more haste than needed.
Jensen finishes off his scotch. He will let Colin have time; give him his privacy to sort things out in his mind, and be here for him when Colin decides to share whatever it is that is burdening him.
Jensen knows staring at his phone won’t make it ring, but he can’t make himself do anything else. If he could just get a simple “hey” from Colin it would feel like a boulder lifted off his back.
He thinks about that the last time he saw Colin. Had he seemed a little…off? No. Jensen is just looking back for any miniscule clues that could help him make sense of Colin disappearing. He had been quieter and kept to himself more. Jensen didn’t think he was imagining that. He sighs and rubs his eyes. Fuck. Maybe he was imagining it. Jensen didn’t fucking know anymore. He just wanted to know his son was okay.
Then he would kill Colin for putting him through this.
***
Jared’s in his boxers, phone clutched in his hand, striding from one end of the suite to another. Jensen is worried, and possibly a little mad at Jared for not taking Colin’s disappearance seriously. Jared cannot take the idea that Jensen could be mad at him. He has to do something or try to. The only thing he can think of short of going to Cali himself, is use technology to find the little shit. Jared’s tech savvy, but the kind of investigating that needs doing requires more skills than just “savvy”. He needs a fucking hacker. Good thing the Organization has the two best in the world.
“I know, Little Jay,” Aldis’ voice was calm but serious and Jared could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background. “Mr. Ackles already called me. I’m on it. I’m looking through his credit card receipts now. Last time he used the Black Card was ten days ago to pay for his first year of law school tuition. Nothing since then. Last charge on any of his other credit cards was twenty bucks at a Starbucks on 82, so the one close to the school.”
Jared hasn’t felt this useless in five fucking years, since Jensen had been kidnapped.
“The GPS on his BMW?”
“I’m not getting anything after May eleventh. Last position was Santa Ynez Street, his house.”
Fuck. What if someone, knowing how wrapped up he and Jensen were bound to be in wedding details, chose that moment to strike and took Colin? Was Jensen right? Was Colin not just incommunicado but actually missing? Had someone taken him after all? If that turned out to be the case Jensen would never forgive him. Ever. His guts roil.
More furious keystrokes come over the line. “What I’m doing now—Lindberg is as well—is tapping into CCTV footage and traffic cams, in and around Palo Alto to look for his license plate. He’s still driving the BMW roadster, right?”
Jared smiles despite himself, like Jensen, Colin also loves his BMW. Even though Jared thinks his new Alfa Romero is the superior car in the family. “Yeah. Any pings on his cell?”
“No.”
Jared thought as much but hates the finality of knowing it. “What if you can’t find him through the traffic cams?”
“Doubtful. It’s 2025, Jay. Even bumfuck Nebraska has traffic cams. Only way would be if he changed cars for some reason. His sporty little car will show up somewhere. You and Jensen need to keep in mind that this will take time. We are sorting through so much footage right now just in the Palo Alto area. I know you don’t want to hear that but it’s the way it is. We can build a search program to look for his license plate specifically but it will still take time to compile the data.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll pass it along to Jense. Do what you can as fast as you can, Aldis.”
“Will do, Little Jay.”
Jared ends the call and runs a hand through his hair. Shit. They are going to have to postpone the wedding until Colin’s whereabouts are known. He would hate to do it, but Jensen wouldn’t be able to enjoy their day with Colin somewhere out there.
When they find him, and Jared knew they would….he would fucking kill him.
“Whaddya hear, whaddya say,” Colin greeted as he came into the billiards room.
Jared flashed the kid a grin. He had introduced Colin to the films of Jimmy Cagney some time ago and since then that had been Colin’s customary greeting to Jared. He stepped back, aimed and pitched the dart at the board. Not a bulls eye but close. “Hey ya, Kid.” He put the remaining darts down and gripped Colin’s hand in a firm shake before bringing him in close for a back-pounding bro-hug. “Still stylin’ and profilin’. Gucci?”
“God, Dad was right. You are a label queen.”
Jared smirked. He liked high fashion. So fucking what? “So, I’m right. It is Gucci. Looks nice on you.” He takes up the darts again, holds a few out to Colin. “Wanna play?”
“Pool?” Colin asks drifting over to the rack of cues mounted on one wall.
Jared smiles, loving that he and Colin can share this. “I promise to take it easy on you,” Jared selects his cue, examines it, finding it satisfactory, proceeds to apply a little talc to his hands.
“Big talk for an old man,” Colin shoots back selecting a cue and chalking the tip.
As they play Jared can’t help but notice that Colin’s either not trying at all or he is very rusty. He observes Colin as they play and as though the kid seems to be trying his damndest to act like everything is normal, Jared notices the line of tension in his back and shoulders, and the way he will catch Jared’s gaze for a second before his eyes shift away, or times when Colin seems to be gearing up to say something then comes out with some low-effort trash-talk.
Jared trounces him easily. He wants to gloat about it but doesn’t because something is on Colin’s mind, distracting him.
“Good game, Jay,” Colin says and returns his cue to the rack. He wanders over to the wet bar. He opens the mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of water; he grabs the Glenfiddich and a tumbler for Jared.
Jared plants himself on one of the barstools and takes the offered glass of scotch. “Chevy, you okay?” Jared asks pinning the young man with his gaze. He doesn’t want to press or pry, Colin, like Jensen values his privacy, but the way Colin is acting is piquing his curiosity. Twenty-three is a bit old to be falling into the teenage angst phase.
He shrugs. “Yeah. Dad tell you I got accepted into law school?”
Jared smiles. “Sure did, kid. We’re both so damn proud of you.” He lifts his glass in a salute. “You like working the gun crew?”
“Yeah. They, uh, they’re good guys.” Colin flashes a smile, it’s a true smile if a bit shaky with nerves. Nerves? Jared hasn’t known Colin to be nervous about any line of work Jensen assigns him to. Usually it’s the opposite. He’s always eager to learn and prove himself. Has that changed? What the hell is up with this kid?
“They know their shit and don’t fuck around. Easily one of the best put together crews. All the rackets are smooth, no doubt. Dad runs all this shit. I just…” he runs a hand through his hair. Jared catches a glimpse of fear in Colin’s eyes before the kid averts his gaze again. Jared thinks he understands. Colin is afraid he won’t be able to fill Jensen’s very large shoes.
“Jared….” Colin’s voice is soft, uncertain. “Do you…. Did…. How…? ”
Jared’s brows come together and he flashes the kid a bemused smile over the rim of his tumbler. “Pick a question, Chevy.” He takes a sip of his scotch.
“You and Dad have been together forever already.”
“Practically,” Jared says with a grin. Not even forever with Jensen will be enough.
Colin chugs his water and runs his hand over his mouth before seeming to find his words. “Was it easy falling in love with him?” His eyes dart all over the room, like a bearing in a pinball machine.
Ahh, Jared thinks, understanding beginning to dawn. Colin has got him a sweet little thing somewhere. She better be good enough for Colin. He has become a great man and no doubt would treat any woman that wins his affection like a queen. He doesn’t know if this is the first time Colin has been in love, the kid keeps tight-lipped about that, but Jared surmises that this is the first person Colin believes he could be serious with.
“Easiest thing I ever done. He was all I wanted the moment I met him.” Just thinking about Jensen and his heart is racing.
“Did he ever….”
“What? Colin, just spit it out. You can ask me anything. No judgment. No pressure.”
Colin sighs heavily and seems to pull into himself. “It’s not important. Forget it. Thanks for the game.”
Jared watches the young man leave the billiards room. Jared wished the kid had talked to him a little more. It’s obvious something is weighing on him. Jared’s best guess is something in the love or boudoir department. Colin needn’t ever feel unsure or embarrassed with him; Jared has seen and done (almost) everything. Still, Jared understands there are some things a man just has to deal with on his own.
The beginning riff of Metallica’s For Whom The Bell Tolls coming from his phone pulls Jared from the past. He snatches up his phone. It’s not Aldis, but Jensen. His stomach drops. If Jensen has gotten some horrific news about his son….
“Jense?”
“I can’t do it, Jare,” Jensen’s voice is soft, saturated in regret. A wave of nausea rolls over Jared. “We have to postpone the wedding. I have to find Colin.”
“Yes. Of course,” Jared is quick to reply. He’d expected nothing else. Had been about to call Jensen and tell him the same thing. “We’ll get the guys together and head to Cali. It’ll be okay, Jense, I swear.”
“I love you, Jared, and I’m sorr—”
“Don’t say it, baby.” Jared scrambles around looking for his .357 and wallet. “After we find him we can go to Vegas and elope. I’ll be up at the penthouse in five. I love you, too.”
CH 5
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Words: 31,000-ish
Summary: In which Mob Boss Jensen finally marries his Enforcer Jared Padalecki
Notes: Third installment in my October Rust ‘verse. Set five years after the events in The Power Behind The Throne and King Nothing. You need to have read those to understand this as this references events that happened in the previous stories. I wanted to write something more light-hearted and fluffier with these ultra-violent characters.
Much love as always to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fic title is the Billy Idol song.
Three days before the wedding The Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek closes to the public. Jensen and Jared didn’t need all of the mansion’s 142 rooms—only eighty people received invites to their wedding—but bought them out nonetheless. They wanted no unauthorized people in the hotel. Security for the wedding and at the mansion itself was tight. The Organization’s own security force was supplemented by that of the Marchesi Family, who were honored guests, furthering the bond between the Ackles Organization and the Marchesis. No one without an invitation and a special QR Code would be permitted inside the Rosewood. The guest had to present both, not just one. As it was the local Dallas media was camping out in front to get shots of the guests as they entered the hotel.
They had checked into the penthouse suite on the ninth floor. Members of the IC would be arriving sporadically within the next few hours. After that other high ranking members of the Organization and finally other guests would be arriving. Samantha was fluttering around the venue working with their events coordinator to see to décor and other little details. With the big details of the wedding sorted and Ms. Smith taking care of the little ones, Jensen had more time to stress about where the fuck his son was. The wedding was hours—seventy two—away now and Jensen still had not been able to contact Colin. His worry about the boy was increasing each time he called and got no answer. Colin was supposed to arrive home in the next day or so for his tux fitting with Mark Sheppard.
As the concierge walked them to the penthouse, Jensen leaned to whisper to Jared, “Colin called you recently?”
Jared’s gaze locked with his for a moment, meticulously groomed brows coming together for a faction of a second in a concerned frown. Jensen’s gut tightened. He had his answer before Jared spoke. “No. He’s probably packing and shit. Don’t worry, Jense. He’ll be here.”
Jensen felt Jared’s big hand low on his back, the touch soothing him a tad, but not erasing his growing worry.
The penthouse suite was nearly 3000 square feet, light and airy. The wide floor to ceiling Palladian arch windows would provide a spectacular view. There was a kitchen with a cozy corner dining area with a plush L-shaped couch. Tasteful black and white prints hung on the walls. Cream colored sofa and matching club chairs in the living area. There are built in shelves with books and objet d’art on them. Jared wanders off to explore while Jensen listens to the concierge’s spiel with a bland smile.
“If there is anything you require, gentlemen, please do not hesitate to ask,” the concierge said. “We at the Rosewood are thrilled and honored you have chosen our hotel to host your wedding. May you both have many happy years ahead of you.”
Jensen peeled off four one hundred dollar bills and handed them to the hotel porters who brought up their luggage.
“Thank you very much.” He shook their hands and flashed a smile. They returned his smile and departed. Jensen turned to the concierge. “My fiancé and I would like a bottle of Glenfiddich, eighteen years old, and Macallan twenty-five years old, can you get them for us, please?”
“Of course, sirs, not a problem,” the concierge said. Jensen shook his hand, passing him a couple of hundred dollars, then closed the door, and went in search of Jared.
He wasn’t in the living area or the bedroom. He was about to check the bathroom when he spotted him out on the rooftop terrace. It was furnished with a wicker couch and chairs and a distressed wood and glass topped coffee tables. Jared was lounging lazily on the couch, long legs spread wide, lighting up a fat Cuban cigar. Jensen’s heart sped up as he observed the man he loved, the man he would marry in 72 hours. A month ago it seemed unreal, but the nearer the wedding got the more the reality sunk in. Jared Padalecki would become Jared Ackles. They would be bound together legally forever. It didn’t seem long enough.
Jensen strolls out onto the terrace. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest. “Not sure smoking is allowed.”
Jared exhales a plume of fragrant cigar smoke and fixes Jensen with a sardonic expression. “I do whatever I want.”
Jensen shivers, dick plumping up. He licked his lips, watching as Jared sucked on the fat cigar and blew out another column of smoke, head tilted back exposing the elegant throat. Jensen closed the distance to stand in front of the sexiest man he had ever known. Jared curled his index finger around the cigar and removed it from his mouth. His heated gaze rakes Jensen’s body, fixing on his growing chub tenting his slacks.
“Want some help with that, baby?”
Jensen’s throat was dry and he tried to swallow, couldn’t, and nodded. “Yes, Sir, please.”
“C’mere. Got a nice seat for you.” Jared cupped his crotch and squeezed it.
Jensen climbs onto Jared’s lap, legs bracketing Jared’s slim hips. He wraps his arms around Jared’s neck, knots his fingers in Jared’s long soft hair. Jared’s strong arms come around his waist, big hands spanning Jensen’s wide back. He lowers his head as Jared tilts his head up and their mouths collide in a fervent kiss, teeth nipping at lips, tongues delving into one another’s mouths. He can feel Jared’s hard length beneath him and he fucking aches to have it inside him.
He pulls back, breaking their kiss. “Please, Sir. Can I ride your cock?” He gives a little teasing bounce.
Jared’s eyes gleam and he smirks. “Got lube, baby?”
Shit, Jensen inwardly curses. He clambers off Jared and rushes back into the suite. He rips into his smallest piece of luggage, tossing shit everywhere in search of his toiletry bag. Of fucking course it’s at the bottom. He opens and upends it. He grabs the bottle of lube and races back out to the terrace. He staggers to a stop at the decadent sight that greets him. In the short amount of time Jared has shucked his slacks and shirt. He’s got that fucking cigar in his mouth, smoke drifting up from the glowing end, and his cock in his hand slowly stroking the delicious hard length, while he fondles his balls with his other.
“Better get that hole ready for me,” Jared drawls around the cigar. “My hands are kinda full.”
Jensen strips out of his clothes, eyes latched on Jared’s big cock, the thick vein on the underside, the head leaking. As Jensen watches, Jared’s thumb teases another drop from the slit. He’s torn between wanting it in his mouth as much as in his ass.
He flips open the cap on the bottle of lube and squeezes some out on his fingers. He reaches behind himself and rubs his hole. Jared pulls on his cigar and lazily strokes his dick all the while watching Jensen play with his ass, eyes dark with desire.
He quickly jams one finger, then two, then three in his ass. It’s good but not enough. Fuck wanting to suck Jared, as good as that is, he craves that cock in his ass, craves being stretched wide and stuffed full.
“So eager, aren’t ya, baby?” Jared asks. “Need what I got right here, don’t ya?” Jared takes a deep drag off his cigar and exhales a column of smoke. He looks exactly like what he is, an arrogant and dangerous man.
Jensen is so turned on he can’t breathe. He nods.
Jared stops stroking that beautiful dick, removes his cigar from his mouth, and rests his arms along the back of the sofa in invitation. “Come take it.”
Jensen feels weak in the goddamn knees as he closes the short distance between them. He climbs back into Jared’s lap. He grips the base of Jared’s cock and guides it to his slippery hole, and lowers himself down on it, eyes rolling back and moaning at the initial sting. A deep groan rumbles up from Jared’s throat. His eyes on Jensen are smug as hell and pupils so wide his eyes look like obsidian.
Jensen lifts up and sinks down establishing a smooth rhythm. Jared watches him, smoking his cigar, occasionally tilting his head back to groan or sigh in satisfaction, but otherwise offering no help, letting Jensen fuck himself.
“Love watching you ride me, baby. You take what you want, what you need; then I am going to wreck...that…ass.” Jared reaches back to grab one of Jensen’s asscheeks, then gives it a hard smack.
Jensen moans. He clenches his inner muscles, speeding up, rotating his hips seeking the spot inside him that will have him seeing stars. The fact that Colin has been out of touch for days, the fact that they are fucking in broad daylight, although the terrace is somewhat private, someone across the way could see them. He doesn’t care. He wants Jared. He wants to come, wants Jared to fulfill his promise to wreck him. But Jared always does.
“Fucking slut,” Jared sneers and smacks his ass again. Jensen flushes all over. His heart beats out of control in his chest. Sweat trickles from his brow and down his face. How is Jared still so in control when Jensen feels like he’s coming undone? He loves that he can do this to him, get him to let go, and forget everything, lose himself in sensation and pleasure, existing only with Jared—for Jared.
“What do you say to Sir, for letting you use his cock for your pleasure?”
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” Jensen pants. “Love your cock, Sir. So fucking big, feels so fucking good inside me.”
Jared nods magnanimously and brings his cigar to his mouth for another deep drag. Jensen is turned on and infuriated at the same time. Jared and his fucking aloof exterior while Jensen bounces and writhes on his cock. The bastard. Jensen’s fingers grip Jared’s shoulders tighter and he rides even harder, the smack of their bodies colliding, so loud and dirty. Jensen rocks his hips so Jared’s cockhead rubs over his prostate on each downstroke, pleasure cascading down his spine. Jared is sitting so far back that Jensen cannot even get friction on his poor aching cock from Jared’s washboard fucking abs. He lets out a little frustrated whimper. He can feel his orgasm tickling his balls, but he can’t quite get there.
“Please, Sir. I need to come. Please touch me. Make me come for you, Sir. Please.”
Jared’s chuckle is low and liquid and menacing. He takes a pull off his cigar, with one hand while with his other he strokes down Jensen’s sweat-slicked chest to tweak a nipple. Jensen throws his head back as pleasure ricochets through him pushing him closer to what he knows will be a mind-blowing orgasm—they always are with Jared. He whimpers. It’s still not enough. He knows Jared wants him to beg.
“Sir, please. Your hand o-on my cock. Please Sir. I need to come so bad. It hurts. Please, Sir.” He’s lost the rhythm of his ride now, just grinding down hard against Jared’s cock, seeking fulfillment just out of reach.
“Poor, baby. Your Sir never wants you to be in pain.”
Jared curls his big hand around Jensen’s cock in a tight fist and jerks him hard and fast. Jensen moans at the delicious friction. Jared’s thumbnail teases his slit and that is it. Jensen throws his head back and comes hard, shooting thick ropes of jizz all over his and Jared’s chest and stomach.
Jensen slumps forward; breathless, boneless from his orgasm, and, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Jared deadlifts Jensen as he stands up, cock still buried in Jensen’s ass. The amount of hot this is is ridiculous and the smirk on Jared’s lips tells Jensen that he knows it. Jensen wraps his legs tight around Jared’s hips and arms around his neck and holds on.
Jared gets them to the bedroom and lays Jensen down on the pristine white comforter, cock slipping from Jensen’s body. As soon as Jensen is flat on his back Jared grips his wrists and holds him down.
“You got what you wanted. Now, I’m going to get what I want.” Jared’s voice is dark with desire.
Jared thrusts in hard and Jensen cries out. He fucks into him, hitting the right spot every time. Jensen is long past the time when he can get hard with little refractory period, but he lays there and enjoys the sensation of Jared reaming his ass.
“Oh, God. Yes. Please. Anything you want, Sir. Anything. You can do anything to me, love you so much.”
Jared fucking growls. He hooks his arms under Jensen’s knees and hikes his legs up higher so he can thrust in even deeper. Jensen’s eyes roll back in his head as Jared’s strokes increase in speed and intensity.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jensen moans wantonly as Jared fucks him hard and deep not caring at all about Jensen, just using him for his own pleasure. It shouldn’t be hot but it is. Everything Jared does to him, and with him, is hot. Jared knows how far to go, how much he can take, and push. It’s never enough and too much at the same time.
Jensen is folded in goddamn half, thighs pressed to his chest, and ankles around his ears. He really is too old for this. His muscles and ass are going to be complaining about this rough treatment tomorrow. It’s so fucking hot, so fucking dirty, and that just makes it so much better. Right now Jensen does not care. He doesn’t care about anything. Sweat drips down from Jared’s hairline, trickles down along the sharp line of his jaw. Jensen levers himself up and licks away the salty drop.
“I’m so fucking close, baby. You want this load?”
“God, yes, please, Sir. Always want it.” He knows Jared isn’t going to last long, not with the frenetic pace he has set. Jensen scratches his nails down Jared’s back, feeling the flex of his muscles, the sweat coating his skin. He grips the firm cheeks, fingers dipping into the crease, and rubs over the tightly furled muscle between. Jared howls as he spills deep inside Jensen.
After his orgasm recedes, he collapses on top of Jensen, panting wetly against his neck before pulling out and rolling to his side. Jensen feels the flood of Jared’s cum leak from him.
“Think sex will still be this hot once we’re married?” Jared asks cuddling Jensen close.
Jensen huffs a laugh, tucking his head under Jared’s chin, he plays absently with the hair on Jared’s chest. “I can’t imagine a time when sex with you won’t be hot. When we’re ninety it’ll still be intense.”
“Calling it now. We die fucking. Hearts explode in our chests as we come.”
“Not a bad way to go,” Jensen muses.
“What say we go test out that big rain shower in the bathroom?” Jared says after a beat.
He is sticky with sweat and cum. “I think that is a great idea.”
After a very thorough shower, and an even more thorough rimming and blow job from Jared in said shower, they are seated in the dining area, wrapped in soft fluffy bathrobes, and enjoying brunch.
The worry that Jared had temporarily blasted from his mind rolls back in like the reliable tide. In a little under 69 hours from now he and Jared will be getting married and Colin is still off the grid.
“I wish Colin would return my calls. Have you checked your messages?” He’s trying to enjoy the spinach, heirloom tomato, and goat cheese frittata, but his guts are back to churning with nerves. “Yes, and still nothing from the kid. You know I’d tell you if I heard from him, Jense,” Jared’s voice is soft with concern, gaze equally so. Jensen knows Jared is trying to hide his own worry from Jensen. He notices that Jared isn’t eating his blueberry baked French toast with his usual gusto.
Jensen sets his fork down and slouches back into the crook of the corner. “I know Colin keeps to himself a lot, but this is different. This close to our wedding. I don’t want to think something happened to him but I’m not sure what else to think.”
Jared pushes his plate away and slides closer to Jensen, puts an arm around him and tucks him close. “I don’t think it’s that,” Jared says voice solid and stern, a little bit of Sir creeping in and Jensen can’t help but respond to it, be soothed by it, someone else taking control, taking on Jensen’s worry. “When Colin came home for break, he found me in the billiards room. He obviously wanted to ask my advice about something, something personal, maybe even relationship-y. You know Colin takes after you in that regard, keeps his intimate life very much on lockdown. If you want my honest opinion, I think he’s in love for the first time and our wedding is bringing it home to him.”
Jensen feels a knot of tension inside him lessen but not go away. Instead it brings to the surface another terrifying thought. “He has seemed kinda off since last summer, but more so during spring break. Maybe…maybe he was seeing someone and she hurt him. Hurt him bad. Maybe he fell into a depression or something.”
“What are you trying to say? You think maybe he’s hurt himself? No, Jensen, no way. You’re worried and thinking like that is only going to make it worse.”
“He killed that guy earlier this year, the one who was informing on his crew out there. Maybe he’s dealing with guilt and regret. Maybe who we are and what we do is really sinking in.”
Jared waves a dismissive hand. “If that was the first time Colin had to take somebody out, you might be on to something, but it’s not.”
“Maybe he can’t take the stress of being my successor. I know I’ve put him through a lot teaching him, putting him to work in all the rackets.” Jensen sighs and runs a hand over his face.
“Jensen,” that command in Jared’s voice again. “Stop it. Colin knows the score, always has, and he is okay with taking up the mantle.”
“So were you,” Jensen states.
“Yeah, but, unlike me, Colin is suited to the power. He’s running his own little branch of the Organization out there in Palo Alto. Whatever is going on with Colin,” Jared waves a big hand in an all encompassing gesture, “has to do with a woman. That is my gut feeling. Try to relax and think about something else. Petey will be here tomorrow.”
After twenty years Jensen will trust Jared’s gut instincts.
***
Jared was struggling to keep from bouncing in excitement. Petey, with girlfriend Tara in tow, were arriving any time now. He and Jensen were waiting outside to be the first to greet them. He was excited to meet Tara after all the time Petey had talked about her in his letters. He seemed as in love with her as Jared was with Jensen. Jared could not be happier for his oldest friend.
“Just so you know, I’ve got my own suite on the sixth floor…well, actually, I have the entire floor to myself. We’re not gonna see each other the day before the wedding.”
“Jare—what?” Jensen gazes up at him, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, but his golden brows are furrowed and that luscious mouth is downturned.
“Its tradition. Can’t see each other 24 hours before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
“You cannot be serious,” Jensen says in a deadpan that would make Petey proud.
“Oh, I can and I am. I got some shit to take care of on my own anyway. Groomzilla shit.” He tips Jensen a wink.
He can feel Jensen’s eyeroll. “Okay, ya diva. Also, I think the actual tradition dictates we aren’t supposed to see each other the day of the wedding.”
Jared just grins. He wants everything to be perfect for their wedding day. He has a visit with a stylist booked and a final fitting with Sheppard for his new wedding suit. He was so excited and happy about the look he had chosen. He couldn’t wait to see Jensen’s reaction to it. He was going to slay, as the kids said nowadays. Wait. Did they still say that? Probably not.
“I still can’t get a hold of Colin,” Jensen says, his voice is even and level but Jared can hear the worry laced through it. “Have you heard anything?”
Jared squeezes Jensen’s hand. “No, but you already know what I think. He wants to be left alone.”
Jensen sighs and hangs his head. “He wouldn’t not return all the calls and texts, Jared; not after nearly a week and not this close to our wedding.”
Jared bends slightly and presses a kiss to his temple, rubs his hand up and down Jensen’s back, feels the tension coiled in the muscles under the silk. “You said he was due in today; so, if he doesn’t show up after today we’ll go out to Cali and find him. We’ll postpone the wedding if we have to.” He kisses Jensen’s temple again. This wedding is the most important thing to him, but Colin is the (second) most important thing to Jensen. Jared will do anything to smooth that crease of worry from between Jensen’s brows and lift the tension from his shoulders.
“Jare….” Jensen’s gaze is so full of love and regret.
“It’s okay,” Jared says and bends, taking Jensen’s mouth in a kiss.
“You bastadahs cahn’t even wait ‘til tha weddin’ night?”
Jared pulls back from Jensen’s soft mouth at the basso rumble of Petey’s voice. Beside him, Jensen smiles fondly and shakes his head.
A big black Navigator has pulled to a stop and Petey is climbing out of the back. Jesus. Had Jared actually forgotten how massive Petey was? He is still a towering man, but in the last five years Petey has put on some weight, he’s softer, pudgier in the middle, but, with his frame he wears it well. His hair is still halfway down his back, still black, but there is plenty of silver mixed in. He’s also sporting a full thick black beard that could give him a menacing air, but his wide smile and kind eyes soften the effect; he looks as content as Jared has ever seen him.
“Petey!” Jared says gleefully. The years fall away and he’s ten years old again, being befriended by a friendly giant with jet-black hair.
“Jarahd!” Petey wraps his arms around Jared and squeezes the breath from the body, and lifts him from his feet in a herculean bear hug. “Finally makin’ it legal aftah all these yeaahs. Damn happy for ya.”
He returns Jared to the ground and turns to Jensen.
“Jensen, man. Good ta see ya.” He slaps his big hand into Jensen’s and gives a firm shake and a bright smile.
A rush of hotel porters have appeared and extract luggage from the Nav and pile it onto push carts.
“You, too, Pete,” Jensen says. “Who is your lovely companion?”
Beside Petey is a petite woman in her late thirties, with long black hair and a gothic look about her, with her dark eye makeup and deep red lipstick. “This is Tarah, my Goddess.”
“Aww, Pete, you fuckin’ sap,” Jared says.
“Tara VanFlower,” the woman introduces herself and gives them each a firm, no-nonsense, handshake. “Peter talks about you two all the time. So great to put faces with names. Very handsome faces, too, pictures really don’t do them justice.”
“After staring at Petey’s ugly mug for five years I’m sure we’re a refreshing sight.”
“Shut tha fuck up, Jarahd,” Pete says. “Fuckin’ smahtass.”
Being back home in Brooklyn seems to have caused Petey’s accent to thicken. It makes Jared smile.
“Well, welcome to Texas, Ms. VanFlower, and please enjoy all the Rosewood has to offer,” Jensen says with a charming little bow. “Spa sessions, room service, and the mini bar will all be paid for by the Ackles Organization.
She returns his bow with a cute curtsey and sashays into the lobby, the squadron of porters following behind.
“All rigaht, whaht’s wrong?” Pete inquires after Tara has disappeared into the sprawling hotel.
“Jensen’s son has been incommunicado for almost a week. We’re worried something happened to him.”
“Awah, shit. Anythin’ I can do?”
Jensen shakes his head. “No, this is Organization business, Pete. You and Ms. VanFlower enjoy yourselves.”
“All rigaht, but if ya need an extrah paiah of fists, you call.” He tips them a wink and heads into the hotel.
Jensen and Jared watch the big man walk away. “He’s so happy. I knew he sounded like it in his letters, but seeing him….”
Jensen nods, puts an arm around Jared’s waist. “He is,” Jensen agrees. “Seems he found the peace he was looking for. I’m glad for him.”
“Me, too.” Jared gazes down at Jensen and sees that the creases of worry are back on Jensen’s brow. He doesn’t have to see the green eyes to know they are clouded with worry. “You know we’re gonna find Colin and everything is gonna be okay,” Jared says. “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”
***
Jensen cannot fucking sleep. He’s knotted up with worry. He’s getting married to the only man in the world for him tomorrow. But said man in question has gone into full-on Groomzilla mode and made it an edict that he and Jensen not see each other before the wedding. Which…fucking ridiculous. After they had dinner with Pete and Tara last evening, Jared had gone up to the sixth floor, effectively cutting himself off from Jensen until their wedding ceremony tomorrow at three in the afternoon. After twenty years together almost 24/7, he can deal with not seeing Jared. He can. Besides, he can call him or text him. It’s not like Jared believes this superstitious shit, he’s just being a bit of a diva. Jensen thinks it’s kind of adorable so he’ll play along, but he’s lonely in this big penthouse suite. He does miss falling asleep to Jared’s deep even breathing, his big warm body next to him, and the scent of him in his nose. More than that, he’s anxious without Jared, especially with Colin still being missing. He doesn’t think Jared is gonna stand him up or go missing. Nothing like that. He needs Jared to keep away the anxiety that comes with the dark and call him back from the nightmares that still haunt him.
What really has Jensen knotted up with worry is he still hasn’t had any contact with Colin. None. Not a call or even a text. Since Jared has gone off to do whatever last minute things he needs to take care of, he’s been calling Colin pretty much every hour. It doesn’t even ring, just goes straight to voicemail. Jensen’s pretty sure he’s about filled up the fucking kid’s inbox. Where the hell was that bastard? If something has happened to him….
Sighing, Jensen grabs his phone and dials Colin yet again. And again it went immediately to voicemail. Jensen ended the call and dialed Jared. Jared, as Jensen knew he would, answered on the first ring.
“Should be sleepin’, Jense,” Jared’s voice sounded lazy and sleepy, his Texas twang thicker than usual.
“Can’t. He’s not here Jared. Today was the eighteenth. Colin was supposed to be here the seventeenth. And no one has heard from him. I’m scared, Jared.” It costs him a bit to admit he’s beyond “worried” and actually scared. He can’t stop the tremor in his voice. Besides Jared, Colin is the other person in the world he would do anything for.
“It’s okay, baby,” Any trace of sleep that was there moments ago is gone now. “Have you talked to his crew out there? Kathy? Nick? Alex? Dylan?”
Jensen gets himself in a sitting position and rubs a hand over his eyes. “No. Fucking oversight.”
“We got a lot going on,” Jared says dismissively. “Hang tight and lemme do some calling. Okay, baby?”
Jensen says the only thing he can when Jared addresses him as such. “Yes, Sir.”
The call ends and Jensen feels a little better, knowing Jared is in control.
Twenty-five minutes later his cell rings again. He knows it’s Jared and fumbles to accept the call.
“Jense.” Just his goddamn name and Jensen’s blood pressure is already rising. Jared does not have good news.
“Jared. What is it?” Jensen pulls himself into a seated position, fingers tightening on the phone case, heart rate skyrocketing.
“You’re freaking out already.”
“Of course I’m freaking out! My son is missing!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Oh? So you know where he is then?”
“No.”
“But his friends do?”
“No.”
“No!” Jensen tossed off the covers and gets himself out of bed; to do what he doesn’t know, but it feels better to be moving instead of sitting in bed while Colin is God knows where.
“I called his crew and the last time they spoke to him was when he was leaving Palo Alto for the wedding.”
That makes Jensen relax a bit. “Okay, so when? Yesterday? He on a flight?”
“No, he left California a week ago.”
The tension that had relented for a second was back and amplified. “A week ago! Jared, I expected you to find answers!” He ends the call and immediately dials Aldis. The line rings three times and Jensen feels like clawing his face off, but a glance at the clock tells him that Aldis is probably asleep.
“Boss? What’s wrong?” No jokes, no attempts to make small talk, straight and to the point. Aldis would help.
“My fucking son is missing! I need you to find out where the fuck he is. His car, his credit cards, his phone, even his fucking watch, trace all of them! Find him, Hodge!” He doesn’t wait for Aldis to respond. He ends the call and heads toward the closet.
Fucking Colin. Doing this shit.
He has gone long past thinking Colin is holed up with a woman somewhere fucking his brains out. Young or not there is still only so much sex a person can handle.
He’s well past entertaining mundane ideas that his phone is off or out of battery. Keeping in that line of thinking what if his phone was damaged somehow, dropped it in a sink when shaving or something. Still….there are ways to get in touch, landline phones, email, his friends’ phones, sky writing, smoke signals, message in a bottle, overnight delivery letter. Jensen realizes Colin is a child of technology and the thought of a landline phone or even the letter wouldn’t occur to him, but using a friend’s phone would. If nothing else Colin could just go out and buy a new fucking phone. The fact that he is completely AWOL is terrifying.
What if someone got to him, took him, and has been holding him hostage somewhere dark and cold for the last week? Jensen’s skin crawls from his own memories of being held in such a place. He still has issues with the dark and tight spaces but they aren’t as bad as they used to be. When Jensen went missing Jared and his guys immediately knew and went into action. Colin has been missing a week. He could be dead now. Dead. No. Not that.
Jensen takes a breath and blows it out. He tries to think rationally. If Colin had been kidnapped by an enemy or a rival there would have been some contact by now, some ransom demand. Something. There has been nothing. So maybe he can rule that out, or at least put it on a back burner.
Maybe he’s been hurt somewhere. In some kind of accident and lost his memory or something. Did that actually happen in real life though? Maybe not amnesia but maybe he has been dealing with some serious medical diagnosis and didn’t want Jensen to know. Maybe he’s sick in some hospital somewhere and that’s why there has been no contact. Fuck. Maybe he should have Aldis hack into the records of hospitals around the Palo Alto area. Maybe he was dealing with a mental health issue. Colin had seemed a bit distant the last time he came home on break in the spring.
Jensen should be thinking happy thoughts about his wedding in—he looks at the clock—thirteen hours, but instead his heart is pounding out of control and his mind is a mess of anxiety and worry about the young man who has come to mean so much to him.
Jensen was relaxing in the parlor flipping through Jared’s latest issue of GQ and contemplating the secrets of the universe in his glass of Macallan. He absolutely wasn’t waiting up for Colin. That would be stupid. Colin was a grown man and had been working with the Organization for almost seven years now. Through the years Jensen has put Colin to work in varying parts of the Organization. After his freshman year at Stanford he put him to work with Kane’s loan shark crew. After his sophomore year, it was fencing and the chop shops, junior year it was the bookies. Now, it was with Tahmoh Penikett and Brock Kelly’s crew running guns. Colin excelled at whatever task Jensen set him to; he seemed determined to learn and prove himself. It was tremendous the way the kid seemed to blossom. And it was unnerving how he could switch from blond, blue-eyed smiling All-American good ol’ college student to cold blooded killer, because Colin had killed. He wasn’t like Jared in the regard that he liked to kill—Jared liked having control over someone’s life and death—Colin viewed it as Jensen did, a necessary part of business to keep order. Still, running guns was a different, more specialized, area. From the camouflage cargo, to trailers, rigs, routes, drivers, weigh stations and transfers there were always a lot of variables, but his operation was smooth.
Colin had gone on his first run, riding with Brock Kelly, the number two man in the gun running operation. The young and eager guy that Jensen had called into his office so many years ago had transformed into a seasoned, capable, very loyal and trustworthy member of Jensen’s Organization. He and Tahmoh knew everything about their racket. They knew the ports the guns arrived in, the time, the day, they knew the boat and the boat captain that shipped them. They knew every rig and every driver. They knew the contents of every crate, down to the exact number of bullets. They did not suffer any attempts to cheat or undermine them gladly. Jensen felt confident in sending Colin to learn all he needed to from them.
Hell, Jensen had been younger than Colin when he first worked with the gun running crew. It had been exciting, being in the cab of a rig and hauling ass down the interstate. Back when he had been eighteen he hadn’t even thought about all the shit that could go wrong on a run. Christ, he was going to give himself an ulcer. Jensen wonders if his father was this nervous when Jensen started working the gun racket.
The rig that Colin and Brock were in was due back at Transportation Solutions at eleven. Over and over Jensen’s gaze had strayed either to the stately grandfather clock quietly ticking away in the corner or down to the Audemars Piguet watch Jared had given him for their anniversary.
The gentle ticking of the clock and the excellent liquor combined to make Jensen doze off around two in the morning. The front door closing woke Jensen. It took him a second to remember where he was and why. He heard the soft click of heels on the marble foyer.
“Colin? That you, son?”
“Yeah, Dad,” his voice had a cynical lilt to it that made him think of Jared.
He follows Colin’s footsteps across the foyer, but instead of joining Jensen in the parlor and filling him in on how the run went, or chatting idly for a few minutes, he headed for the staircase to go up to his room.
Jensen’s brows came together in a frown. That was odd. Could be Colin was just overly tired.
“Come in here, please,” Jensen called.
The young man appeared in the archway of the parlor but didn’t come closer. Over the last few years Colin’s poker face has gotten pretty good, almost as locked down as Jensen’s own but there are still tells in his overall body language. Yes, there is fatigue there but a tension in his back, and stiffness in the set of his shoulders.
“Everything went alright on the run?”
“Yeah. Eight crates of AR 14s and 9s all delivered to the buyer. The funds transfer confirmed.”
Jensen nods but doesn’t speak, simply observes the young man. Colin has always been tight-lipped about his private life. Jensen understands, and respects that; he would never want to pry, but Colin seems upset, though he is trying hard to hide it. Jensen picks up on the subtle little twitch of a brow, the repetitive swallowing and the way Colin’s eyes cannot seem to meet or hold Jensen’s. “Colin. You can talk to me about anything. Tell me anything,” he prods gently.
“Dad, you already gave me the sex talk, which I didn’t need, at eighteen by the way.”
Jensen finds it interesting that Colin’s first thought went to sex. Maybe he met a girl on the road, had a fling, and was missing her. Maybe he had a girl in California and was eager to get back to her. He would be leaving to start his senior year at Stanford in two weeks.
“Wear a condom is always good advice, Colin. It’s more than that, it’s the tenet of being sexually active.”
“Dad. Just…don’t.” He does a good job of faking a cringe, but it’s forced.
“Sit down for a second, Colin. I want to tell you something my father told me.”
He sighs but sits back down. “I don’t know if you are seeing anyone seriously, but know this, whoever you become involved with also becomes involved in what we do. I was lucky to find Jared, someone who knew the score and wasn’t afraid of the inherent risk in our line of business. The first man I fell in love with, well, he wasn’t like Jared.”
Colin’s mouth opens and closes several times, like he wants to talk, but the words won’t come. Whatever is on his mind is about a girl. Jensen wonders if he or Jared are really qualified to dispense relationship advice, not because they are a gay couple and Colin is straight, but because on some level Jensen realizes the codependency between he and Jared isn’t what most people would deem “healthy”.
“Dad, I love that you are trying to do the father/son thing, but I don’t need it. Honestly,” there is a tiny bit of impatience in Colin’s voice. “May I please head up to bed? I’m tired and I stink from being in a rig for thirty-six hours.”
While he can’t exactly call Colin out for lying, Jensen can, however, tell that the kid is hiding something. “All right,” Jensen says resignedly and dismisses him with a small wave. Colin doesn’t bolt from the room but he definitely moves with more haste than needed.
Jensen finishes off his scotch. He will let Colin have time; give him his privacy to sort things out in his mind, and be here for him when Colin decides to share whatever it is that is burdening him.
Jensen knows staring at his phone won’t make it ring, but he can’t make himself do anything else. If he could just get a simple “hey” from Colin it would feel like a boulder lifted off his back.
He thinks about that the last time he saw Colin. Had he seemed a little…off? No. Jensen is just looking back for any miniscule clues that could help him make sense of Colin disappearing. He had been quieter and kept to himself more. Jensen didn’t think he was imagining that. He sighs and rubs his eyes. Fuck. Maybe he was imagining it. Jensen didn’t fucking know anymore. He just wanted to know his son was okay.
Then he would kill Colin for putting him through this.
***
Jared’s in his boxers, phone clutched in his hand, striding from one end of the suite to another. Jensen is worried, and possibly a little mad at Jared for not taking Colin’s disappearance seriously. Jared cannot take the idea that Jensen could be mad at him. He has to do something or try to. The only thing he can think of short of going to Cali himself, is use technology to find the little shit. Jared’s tech savvy, but the kind of investigating that needs doing requires more skills than just “savvy”. He needs a fucking hacker. Good thing the Organization has the two best in the world.
“I know, Little Jay,” Aldis’ voice was calm but serious and Jared could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background. “Mr. Ackles already called me. I’m on it. I’m looking through his credit card receipts now. Last time he used the Black Card was ten days ago to pay for his first year of law school tuition. Nothing since then. Last charge on any of his other credit cards was twenty bucks at a Starbucks on 82, so the one close to the school.”
Jared hasn’t felt this useless in five fucking years, since Jensen had been kidnapped.
“The GPS on his BMW?”
“I’m not getting anything after May eleventh. Last position was Santa Ynez Street, his house.”
Fuck. What if someone, knowing how wrapped up he and Jensen were bound to be in wedding details, chose that moment to strike and took Colin? Was Jensen right? Was Colin not just incommunicado but actually missing? Had someone taken him after all? If that turned out to be the case Jensen would never forgive him. Ever. His guts roil.
More furious keystrokes come over the line. “What I’m doing now—Lindberg is as well—is tapping into CCTV footage and traffic cams, in and around Palo Alto to look for his license plate. He’s still driving the BMW roadster, right?”
Jared smiles despite himself, like Jensen, Colin also loves his BMW. Even though Jared thinks his new Alfa Romero is the superior car in the family. “Yeah. Any pings on his cell?”
“No.”
Jared thought as much but hates the finality of knowing it. “What if you can’t find him through the traffic cams?”
“Doubtful. It’s 2025, Jay. Even bumfuck Nebraska has traffic cams. Only way would be if he changed cars for some reason. His sporty little car will show up somewhere. You and Jensen need to keep in mind that this will take time. We are sorting through so much footage right now just in the Palo Alto area. I know you don’t want to hear that but it’s the way it is. We can build a search program to look for his license plate specifically but it will still take time to compile the data.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll pass it along to Jense. Do what you can as fast as you can, Aldis.”
“Will do, Little Jay.”
Jared ends the call and runs a hand through his hair. Shit. They are going to have to postpone the wedding until Colin’s whereabouts are known. He would hate to do it, but Jensen wouldn’t be able to enjoy their day with Colin somewhere out there.
When they find him, and Jared knew they would….he would fucking kill him.
“Whaddya hear, whaddya say,” Colin greeted as he came into the billiards room.
Jared flashed the kid a grin. He had introduced Colin to the films of Jimmy Cagney some time ago and since then that had been Colin’s customary greeting to Jared. He stepped back, aimed and pitched the dart at the board. Not a bulls eye but close. “Hey ya, Kid.” He put the remaining darts down and gripped Colin’s hand in a firm shake before bringing him in close for a back-pounding bro-hug. “Still stylin’ and profilin’. Gucci?”
“God, Dad was right. You are a label queen.”
Jared smirked. He liked high fashion. So fucking what? “So, I’m right. It is Gucci. Looks nice on you.” He takes up the darts again, holds a few out to Colin. “Wanna play?”
“Pool?” Colin asks drifting over to the rack of cues mounted on one wall.
Jared smiles, loving that he and Colin can share this. “I promise to take it easy on you,” Jared selects his cue, examines it, finding it satisfactory, proceeds to apply a little talc to his hands.
“Big talk for an old man,” Colin shoots back selecting a cue and chalking the tip.
As they play Jared can’t help but notice that Colin’s either not trying at all or he is very rusty. He observes Colin as they play and as though the kid seems to be trying his damndest to act like everything is normal, Jared notices the line of tension in his back and shoulders, and the way he will catch Jared’s gaze for a second before his eyes shift away, or times when Colin seems to be gearing up to say something then comes out with some low-effort trash-talk.
Jared trounces him easily. He wants to gloat about it but doesn’t because something is on Colin’s mind, distracting him.
“Good game, Jay,” Colin says and returns his cue to the rack. He wanders over to the wet bar. He opens the mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of water; he grabs the Glenfiddich and a tumbler for Jared.
Jared plants himself on one of the barstools and takes the offered glass of scotch. “Chevy, you okay?” Jared asks pinning the young man with his gaze. He doesn’t want to press or pry, Colin, like Jensen values his privacy, but the way Colin is acting is piquing his curiosity. Twenty-three is a bit old to be falling into the teenage angst phase.
He shrugs. “Yeah. Dad tell you I got accepted into law school?”
Jared smiles. “Sure did, kid. We’re both so damn proud of you.” He lifts his glass in a salute. “You like working the gun crew?”
“Yeah. They, uh, they’re good guys.” Colin flashes a smile, it’s a true smile if a bit shaky with nerves. Nerves? Jared hasn’t known Colin to be nervous about any line of work Jensen assigns him to. Usually it’s the opposite. He’s always eager to learn and prove himself. Has that changed? What the hell is up with this kid?
“They know their shit and don’t fuck around. Easily one of the best put together crews. All the rackets are smooth, no doubt. Dad runs all this shit. I just…” he runs a hand through his hair. Jared catches a glimpse of fear in Colin’s eyes before the kid averts his gaze again. Jared thinks he understands. Colin is afraid he won’t be able to fill Jensen’s very large shoes.
“Jared….” Colin’s voice is soft, uncertain. “Do you…. Did…. How…? ”
Jared’s brows come together and he flashes the kid a bemused smile over the rim of his tumbler. “Pick a question, Chevy.” He takes a sip of his scotch.
“You and Dad have been together forever already.”
“Practically,” Jared says with a grin. Not even forever with Jensen will be enough.
Colin chugs his water and runs his hand over his mouth before seeming to find his words. “Was it easy falling in love with him?” His eyes dart all over the room, like a bearing in a pinball machine.
Ahh, Jared thinks, understanding beginning to dawn. Colin has got him a sweet little thing somewhere. She better be good enough for Colin. He has become a great man and no doubt would treat any woman that wins his affection like a queen. He doesn’t know if this is the first time Colin has been in love, the kid keeps tight-lipped about that, but Jared surmises that this is the first person Colin believes he could be serious with.
“Easiest thing I ever done. He was all I wanted the moment I met him.” Just thinking about Jensen and his heart is racing.
“Did he ever….”
“What? Colin, just spit it out. You can ask me anything. No judgment. No pressure.”
Colin sighs heavily and seems to pull into himself. “It’s not important. Forget it. Thanks for the game.”
Jared watches the young man leave the billiards room. Jared wished the kid had talked to him a little more. It’s obvious something is weighing on him. Jared’s best guess is something in the love or boudoir department. Colin needn’t ever feel unsure or embarrassed with him; Jared has seen and done (almost) everything. Still, Jared understands there are some things a man just has to deal with on his own.
The beginning riff of Metallica’s For Whom The Bell Tolls coming from his phone pulls Jared from the past. He snatches up his phone. It’s not Aldis, but Jensen. His stomach drops. If Jensen has gotten some horrific news about his son….
“Jense?”
“I can’t do it, Jare,” Jensen’s voice is soft, saturated in regret. A wave of nausea rolls over Jared. “We have to postpone the wedding. I have to find Colin.”
“Yes. Of course,” Jared is quick to reply. He’d expected nothing else. Had been about to call Jensen and tell him the same thing. “We’ll get the guys together and head to Cali. It’ll be okay, Jense, I swear.”
“I love you, Jared, and I’m sorr—”
“Don’t say it, baby.” Jared scrambles around looking for his .357 and wallet. “After we find him we can go to Vegas and elope. I’ll be up at the penthouse in five. I love you, too.”
CH 5