Note: This would be for meretrix, who seriously deserves something new and shiny and probably better than this for putting me through my paces on easyverse. A while back she wrote me some Dave/Jensen (actually, Dave/Jensen/Chris, which is even more win) because the idea made me *drool*, and I've been meaning to return the favor for a while.

He makes Dave a little defensive.

It's not because he's pretty. Pretty's a dime a dozen in Hollywood. Pretty won't get the kid off a genre show on a third-rate network and into an actual career. Dave's been there. Three years into a cult following and you think you've finally made it, only the movie offers are still shit and there's a sadistic writer cackling in the wings as they send you to Hell.

Literally.

Pretty won't get you any-goddamn-where, and the kid's in a dangerous spot, whether he knows it or not.

So no, Dave doesn't envy him the pretty. Or the young. If you don't know how to use them, pretty and young are just two more liabilities in this town. Valuable commodities that paint a big old bulls-eye on your ass for everyone to see.

The thing is, the kid's good. Good in a way that Dave sure as hell wasn't, his first big break.

"You keep staring like that, Jaime's gonna scratch that boy's eyes out."

He spares a glance at Chris. "I don't know why you had to invite that fucker."

"The lady doth protest."

"This lady's gonna shove a beer bottle up your—"

"Hey now, no need to get ugly. Kid needed a distraction, man. He's terrified they're writin' him off the show."

Dave snorts. "Must be dumber than he looks." They'd have to be suicidal, but damned if he's gonna admit that.

"Goddamn, I ain't seen you this catty in a while. Not since—"

"—Shut up—"

"Not since they brought Jimmy on to bump up your ratings. Say, your show's takin' a bit of a—"

"Chris, I swear to fucking God—"

"—nose-dive right now, bet if you ask real nice, Jensen'll use some of his newfound freedom to bail you out. Again."

Crazy bastard laughs even harder with a bloody lip. Color him surprised.

He's enjoying an angry cigarette on the back patio when he hears a noise. Jaime's been on his back for the last hour because Chris bled on the white Berber carpeting, and then spilled some beer for spite. Contrary fucker.

The shine came off this party for Dave a while ago, and he's glad everyone else is hiding in the air conditioning, even though the lingering heat is prickling his temper and his skin.

That just makes him wonder if the sound he hears around the side of the house is a guest or two sneaking off to hoard a few of their own favors. And if they are, they better be sharing. Something has to make this night better.

It's just Jensen. Not drinking, not smoking, just standing in the sideyard with his hands in his pockets. The kid looks over before Dave can duck back and away.

So he goes on the offensive, and squints into the dark.

"What the fuck are you doin' out here, man?"

Jensen's eyes are wide and startled. He shrugs. "Oh, uh. Just needed some air."

"You're hiding by my trash can."

He gets a sheepish grin. "That too." He holds out a hand. "Jensen Ackles."

You have got to be kidding me. "I know who you are, dipshit."

"Damn, dude. What crawled up your ass?"

"Chris," he says. No hesitation.

The laugh he earns is bright and unrestrained. "Ok. In that case, I sympathize. I didn't even wanna leave the house tonight, bastard dragged me kicking and screaming." He catches himself, and finishes lamely: "…Not that uh. Great party."

So when Dave laughs, it's not entirely unkind. He pulls out another cigarette and waves the pack in Jensen's direction. "Want one?"

"No, thanks, man, I don't smoke."

Dave snorts. "Just say no." He clings to being an asshole with purpose.

It's more annoyance than embarrassment when Jensen shrugs and looks away.

"So I'm pretty sure Jared has a crush on you."

It startles a laugh out of him. "What?"

Jensen coughs and leans back against the house. "Oh, uh. Nothing."

Dave takes a drag and thinks. "The other kid on your show, right?"

"God, he's gonna kill me," he mutters. "Just, man, if you only knew how many hours of Buffy I've had to sit through."

And he can't stop the grin. "Could be Sarah." His tone is immodest.

"Maybe," Jensen says, but he's skeptical.

"Yeah, well. Tell your friend I don't fuck anybody I can't top."

Jensen stares at him. Looks like he's getting ready to say something, and then changes his mind. "I should go collect Chris, before he gets himself in any more trouble."

"Hey listen," Dave says, because he's not a complete dick. Jensen's halfway across the yard, triggered the floodlight, and he squints against the LED brightness. "I heard about the finale. We all been there, but it's genre, man. Just a ratings-grabber."

A moment later Jensen nods. "Yeah I know. Thanks, man."

Dave waves him off and lets him go, mildly annoyed that he said anything at all.

They laugh all the way back to Jensen's, about the way Jared sputtered and the pissy Sam-like scrunch of his face.

"Oh, he's gonna be a little bitch, tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll kiss and make up."

The look Jensen shoots is a little indecipherable, behind his grin. He shrugs. "Just brace yourself for a stalker, dude. Now he's got something to prove."

Dave's tone is dismissive. "He's not my type."

"Man, Jared is everybody's type."

He wonders briefly who the kid thinks he's fooling, and if it includes himself. But he doesn't wait around at Jensen's to see if their leaving together was just to call Jared's bluff.

Jensen grunts when he lands on his back on the sofa, hums when Dave attacks his mouth. It's sloppy and rushed and almost like a prelude to grudge-fucking, except Dave's not sure why he disliked the kid, before. He rides Dave's thigh like he's waiting for it, like he's been wanting it, and it's gonna get it, sooner rather than later.

Dave kneels up to unlatch his belt, and when his pants are caught on his knees, Jensen grabs his shirt and yanks him forward. Wraps those fuckable lips around his cock and the head rubs the roof of his mouth. Steals Dave's breath. The kid moans when he puts his hips into it, and yeah, it's a sound full of artifice but it feels fucking amazing, and looks even better, him laying there, taking it.

He should have done this along time ago, and god-fucking-dammit, he hates it when Chris is right.

Jensen's rubbing his cock through his boxers in time with his own noisy slurps, and by the time his body is tense with the need to come, Dave's done playing games. He swings off the couch and drops his pants, busy with the condom while Jensen does the same. He's braced against the backrest when Dave throws aside the slick, watching over his shoulder as Dave presses forward, testing, before he slams home.

"Oho god. Yes." His head drops to his forearm, fist clenching. "Fuck. Yeah."

And maybe it is a grudge fuck, just a little. It feels good to go hard and fast, to wrench all those little sounds out of Jensen's chest. To watch the muscles in his arms cord in pleasure and pain. Maybe it's a little bit of beating his chest with both fists and hollering to the wind.

But it's also the fucking best orgasm he's had in weeks.

They're both sweaty and satisfied when they collapse, Dave taking a little too long to reach for his pants and yank them back over his hips. He leaves the condom on the kid's floor, and smirks to himself.

"Alright." It's quick getting ready to go out the door, because he never so much as got his shoes off. "Ackles. It's been fun."

If the kid's put out by Dave's display of dominance, he doesn't show it. He looks about ready to slide into sleep.

Dave chooses to take that as a compliment.

"Hey," Dave remembers. "So what'd you win?"

"Mm?" He waits for Jensen to blink himself awake. Scrub at his face. "Oh, um. Jared's Nintendo Wii."

Dave snorts, shakes his head and walks out the door.

Note: I have no idea how the Bones ratings are doing, that was just me lashing out for what they did to my lil Zacky-poo. hahaha. I also know nothing about Jaime, apologies that she comes off as a harpie. We can just write it off to Dave being in a bad mood, anyhow.