Parallel On the Other Side
Apr. 20th, 2014 01:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dime_lioraTitle: Parallel On the Other Side
Rating: NC-17
Fandom(s): CW RPF
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Wordcount: 5,061
Beta: The wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sammichgirl, who I finally finished early enough to give this to.
Summary: Jensen buys a mirror at an antiques shop, but the reflection isn't quite what he was planning on.
Notes/Acknowledgments: I blame Justin Timberlake. I blame him so hard. Every night they play "Mirrors" at work, and every night I listen, and then this happened. This was written for the April![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
smpc.
Jensen will be the first one to admit that he is not an interior decorator. His little house is filled with a hodgepodge collection of whatever furniture went on sale and felt comfiest. As a result he has an armchair in sky blue and a couch in burnt orange. His bed is incredibly comfortable mattresses set firmly on an old solid metal frame that squeaks when he rolls over or dares to make any movement really.
And he’s ok with that. He likes it that way, because the furniture fills its purpose without being a hassle. Which is why it’s so annoying when his ex-girlfriend side-eyes the scarred old bookshelf he just picked up that perfectly fits the space he chose for it.
“Jensen it’s. It’s like a targeted attack on aesthetic values. You don’t even…is that made of cartons?”
He blinks, follows her pointing finger, and then finally figures out what she’s referring to. He got that piece a month ago from a yard sale and it was light enough to haul in front of his couch all on his own.
“Well. Yeah, maybe. I mean it’s a coffee table. It’s really stable.”
The look on her face says more than her mouth ever could, and Jensen wishes she’d gone the kinder route and called him an idiot.
Danneel looks around the room one more time, pushes a smooth lock of hair behind her ear, and then throws her hands up. “Take me to the bedroom. At least you’ll have that together.”
Jensen shores up his defenses and takes her attacks for that set of decorative choices too.
---
And that’s how he ends up at an antiques store with Danneel, listening to her rattle off to the shop owner the long list of adult things Jensen is supposed to already own. He’s not interested in knowing what pattern his new couch will be or what kind of wood his credenza is composed of. What the hell is a credenza anyway?
He wanders away, feet taking him through progressively narrowing aisles until he’s in a little back room full of stock with no price tags and hefty layers of dust. There’s one window here, sunlight pushing lazily through and lighting up specks of dust, and it’s half covered by an old poster for Gone with the Wind. Jensen stands in the doorway for a long time, soaking in the grouping of antiques instead of trying to pick out any one specific item. This is a graveyard.
If he’s lucky Danni is finally winding down, has finished her list and he can just pull out his credit card and pay for his new furnishings without having to be involved. And if this new couch turns out to be stiff and formal like the one that graces Danni’s “parlor” then Jensen will make sure that his old couch can be resurrected quickly and quietly.
He’s turning slowly, hoping that if he takes just a little extra time to travel back through the maze of junk his extracted wallet will be the only part of him needed, when the sunlight catches the mirror just right and flashes into his eyes.
And there it is. Something about the heavy gilt frame, the long lean lines of the legs, or the spotted mirror itself that speaks of old vanity catches his eye. There’s a grace to it even though it’s obviously too ornate, opulent to the point of pretentiousness, and Jensen wants it instantly. He crosses the room, tripping over a pair of bronzed baby shoes that have been left out on floor, and reaches the mirror at the same time Danni’s voice reaches him from the hall beyond the door.
“Jensen! Jen it’s time to pay the man and then you can escape. What are you- oh honey no. Not that one.”
He turns, hand resting on the cold metal of the frame, and meets the shop owner’s eyes over Danni’s shoulder.
“Add it to the bill. I’m taking it home.”
----
Danni insists he put it in his bedroom, where she rather pointedly comments no one will ever see it. And Jensen agrees. It belongs in his bedroom where he can see it any time he wants.
It does occur to him that he may have an unhealthy obsession with a full-length mirror.
The shop owner gave him literature about it, said that it was quite old and well worth the price considering its condition, but all Jensen cares about is having it nearby. Except once it’s placed he realizes how little he uses mirrors. He has the one in the bathroom in case he needs to check the state of his hair, and that’s what he uses to shave, so what the hell does he need a full-length mirror for?
His lizard brain hisses at this logic and he strokes the little cherubs that dance across the top of the frame and down the sides. Maybe he needs to take a time out. Talk to someone.
With a little time and polish the mirror ends up bright and good as new. It shines in the corner of his room during the day, reflects his outline at night as he rolls restlessly over and over and chases sleep. Jensen wonders if he should change the angle of it now, because maybe watching yourself lay down and try to sleep is creepy, or at the very least less than soothing.
But he doesn’t change the angle, doesn’t move the mirror at all once he’s got it in place and fully cleaned, and once he’s gotten fully comfortable with it he knows that he probably never will.
---
The day everything changes begins with Jensen waking up late and rushing through getting ready in the hope that he can mitigate the lost time with not paying much attention to whether or not he’s clean-shaven or if his scrubs are one hundred percent clean.
It doesn’t save him much time.
He has two asshole athletes today that want to be totally healed without doing their exercises or giving themselves time to heal properly before they rejoin the team. One bitchy car accident victim who is showing way more mobility than she is claiming and insists she should be getting a full body massage after their appointments are complete, and Mrs. Dench who is both his favorite patient and the best baker he knows. She comes to every appointment with a plate of cookies so big and heavy Jensen has stopped having to buy snack food when he meets his friends to watch a game and drink.
By the time he gets to her though he’s so wrung out he can barely enjoy the flowery tales about her grandchildren or the scandalous history of her ladies’ tea society. He does like the quiet time afterward, when he sits in his office and stretches his own hands out in a series of muscle memory gestures that allow him to remind his fingers they are functioning body parts that can still grip a steering wheel and take him home.
He’s exhausted, ready to collapse when he gets home, but instead he pours a bag salad into a bowl and grabs a sandwich before taking the whole thing to bed and dropping onto the comforter. The television blares loudly through the quiet house, and Jensen carefully spreads his meal out in front of him before grabbing the remote again to choose a better program.
And that’s when he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye that isn’t right. He turns his head to the left, expecting to see himself turning to the right, and instead is faced with a pitch black surface. Jensen almost overturns his salad rushing to get off the bed and check the surface of the mirror. There’s any number of reasonable explanations as to why his bright room is reflecting darkly, and all of them relate to a broken mirror.
Except his fingers touch smooth glass, nothing broken or marred on the surface, and no explanation for what’s happened here. Maybe his terrible day created some form of vortex. Maybe years and years passed while he was at work, literally instead of just experientially, and now the mirror has clouded over with the progression of time and tide.
But that doesn’t seem logical.
Nothing really seems logical. There’s no reason for this to have happened, no clear rational- holy fuck something moved.
Jensen jumps back from the mirror, heartbeat racing and fingers trembling; because something in the darkness of the mirror’s surface moved and that shouldn’t have fucking happened. There’s no reason for that to have happened. In fact Jensen wants to go back to a minute before when the mirror was simply dark and that was all that was wrong with the world.
He considers calling 911, but does 911 come out for demonically possessed mirrors? They are in Texas. It’s really not that far from his house to a church is it? He’s never gone to a church in this neighborhood. Shit he hasn’t been to church since- it fucking moved again.
Jensen leaves the room and his dinner behind and spends the night out on the couch, fully awake and staring at the door to his bedroom.
----
When he was little Jensen was meticulous about never ever transgressing against the laws of superstition. His family wasn’t terribly religious, at least not strictly so, but that didn’t change the fact that it always seemed safer to avoid carelessly spilling salt or stepping on cracks.
Most importantly, Jensen has never broken a mirror.
He’s beginning to wonder if it’s time to retract that belief. He hasn’t been able to look at the mirror in three days. He darts from the hallway into the closet and back out again. He’s been shaving in the half bath and using the shower at work. His back hurts from the way he has to curl up to sleep on the couch.
Jensen wants his bedroom back.
The plan comes out in this sleep deprived, pain-induced delirium. Jensen moves slow and careful, blanket clutched in one hand and aluminum bat in the other. He’s not even sure anymore if he wants to cover the mirror so that it doesn’t know he’s the one who broke it, or so that he doesn’t see whatever Lovecraft inspired monster sleeps on the other side.
The room is brightly lit with sunshine; the birds chirp outside, and Jensen gears up for his big moment facing off with pure evil. He cocks his arm back, throws the blanket, and readies the bat.
And stops.
The blanket has missed its mark and the mirror shows not him holding the bat he’s had since he was an undergraduate, but instead a rather nice bedroom with an incredibly puzzled brunette man standing in Jensen’s spot staring at him in surprise and horror.
The brunette has a tire iron.
For a moment Jensen considers swinging anyway, but he’s already hesitated and now it seems silly to just swing without taking a moment to appreciate what he’s seeing. The guy is tall, handsome, and somewhat puppy-dog like as he tilts his head to the side and the grip he has on the tire iron goes slack.
He can see the sun outside mirror man’s window, shining through his blinds and lighting up tan skin. The eyes are hazel, big, and longish brown hair hangs around them and gets puffed away from his face when mirror man tries to tilt his head back upright.
The puffing doesn’t work.
“It’s more effective if you use your hand.”
The guy’s head tilts again, his mouth moves, but Jensen can’t hear him or read his lips. Why did he never pick up that skill? It had to be on the list somewhere. Maybe around learning Mandarin or picking up woodworking.
Woodworking would actually be useful.
It’s possible he’s gone insane, because he’s staring at a stranger in a mirror in his bedroom, in full daylight, and he’s thinking about woodworking. A hot stranger it bears repeating.
But instead of running from the room and for the nearest insane asylum, or calling someone to come and prove that the only thing showing in the mirror’s glass is his own reflection, Jensen pantomimes brushing hair from his face.
And mirror man laughs the best laugh Jensen has ever seen, dimples appearing near his pink lips and eyes wide as he pushes his own hair back in a mirrored reflection of Jensen’s action.
----
They’re watching TV together. Turns out mirror man, or Jared as the piece of paper he wrote his name on told Jensen, likes a lot of the same shows. At the moment they’re both reclined on their beds, catching each other’s gazes and sharing laughs at the show. Jared works nights sometimes, so every now and then Jensen comes home to find that Jared has pulled his blackout curtains so he can sleep.
Jensen doesn’t watch him. Really, he doesn’t.
On the other hand, he does spend almost every waking moment he is at home hanging out with Jared. For the last five months he’s gotten to know quite a bit about Jared, their communication skills improving once they both bought a whiteboard instead of writing everything out. Jared is one of three children, his mother is an English teacher and his father is a tax accountant, and he’s currently a student at the University of Texas. Engineering. Which means he’s handsome, funny, and smart.
It’s criminal how perfect he is.
Their only two issues are the fact that Jared foolishly likes the Spurs, and that as of a month ago he has started to ask Jensen to meet him in real life.
It’s easiest for Jensen to tell himself it’s because if he agrees, and Jared doesn’t really exist, that will prove he’s insane. And that’s a logical argument. Because sure, he could ride out to Austin, or tell Jared what city he lived in, but once he did he would have to deal with the fallout of no one being there but him.
His life is stressful. He works too much, he can’t keep up a steady relationship, and he rarely gets to see his family. His friends drag him out every now and then to blow off steam, but that doesn’t change the depressing realization that he is alone, and that he’ll probably remain that way.
The worst part is that he doesn’t necessarily mind it in the way he should. He and Danni’s relationship ended because Jensen would pick staying home and watching TV to going out to a bar or a club nine out of ten times. He doesn’t mourn his lack of a social life as much as he wishes he could find someone who liked being reclusive as much as he does.
And now he has. Sort of. He’s either having a ridiculously involved and detailed breakdown in which a hallucinatory man is literally trapped in his bedroom and befriending him, or he’s made the one relationship that will always be stable and located right in the place he’s most comfortable.
So he finds ways to avoid Jared’s suggestions that they meet. And while Jared doesn’t seem to like it much his friend never covers the mirror and shuts off their connection. He never turns away from Jensen. He just stays right where he is, watching TV, having long backwards conversations through text, and generally being perfect.
----
He comes home early. It’s such a rare occurrence that even Jensen is surprised when he walks in before seven and sees his living room.
The house is silent, as it always is, and Jensen moves through undoing his scrubs and heading for his shower to wash off the day. He steps through the door, and his eyes fall on the mirror as they always do.
Jared is jerking off.
Jensen freezes in place, one hand pressed against the doorframe and legs locked tight as he tries to figure out what he should do. The logical thing is to leave the room and give Jared his privacy.
He doesn’t leave.
Instead Jensen stands perfectly still watching Jared. His mirror friend is spread out on his bed, the blackout curtains cracked just enough that the light dances in a thick line over the center of his body, lighting up odd spots and angles.
The muscles in his inner thighs flex, his big toes curl down into the comforter, his abs tighten and flutter, and his mouth is open on a constant silent pant. To top it off his hands are busy, one wrapped tight around his dick and moving rapidly while the other dips below his balls as his fingertips tease his hole.
Jensen’s pretty sure Jared is moaning. He’s never wanted to hear anything as badly as he wants to hear this. Pink lips shaped in a perfect “O”, tongue peeking out just a little, and white teeth glinting in the sunshine.
He wonders what they would feel like scraping his shoulder, gliding against his tongue, gently rubbing his cock.
When did he start jerking off? Jensen can’t remember reaching into his scrubs and gripping his dick but apparently he did because right now he has a hand full of rock hard erection and precome wetting his boxers.
This is wrong. It’s gotta be wrong. He’s never been a voyeur before. He doesn’t even watch that much porn. But there’s something about the lines of Jared’s long body, the way his hand stutters in its rhythm or the tip of his long finger sliding into his body and is that a shine? Did Jared lube himself before Jensen came in? How many fingers is he planning to-three. Three fingers.
Jensen’s orgasm hits him hard and fast, and he sprays inside his boxers like a teenager with no more warning than the little noise that breaks from his mouth. His clean hand flies up, tries to catch the sound, and then he realizes Jared can’t hear him.
Or see him.
Jensen has just spied on his friend’s private moment, and he should feel awful but the buzzing euphoria from the orgasm makes that hard. He’ll feel guilty later. Right now he enjoys watching Jared finish himself off, fingers buried inside of him and fist twisting. Watches Jared’s face break open with his orgasm, the way his friend turns to look at Jensen’s empty bed when he comes, and the weird little half-smile that Jared gets afterward as he slowly jerks himself through the last parts of his orgasm.
And then it’s over and Jared is cleaning himself up and closing the curtains and Jensen is left staring at a dark mirror.
---
So maybe he starts scheduling his appointments earlier, and maybe he starts coming home at five, and maybe he jerks off a few more times to the sight of Jared fingering himself and jerking his cock.
Maybe.
And he definitely feels bad about it every time. He has to stop. He has to walk away from this, or tell Jared what he’s been doing, or something because he can’t keep treating the man like he’s some live action porno. Jared didn’t sign up for this. Jared’s smiling at him still, watching TV shows like always and dropping more and more not so subtle hints that Jensen should come and see him in person. Or give him his address. Or something.
Jensen can’t even pretend anymore that he has a better reason than that if he met Jared in person at this moment he would probably push him down and rub off on him like a dog. He can’t even look at Jared’s smile without thinking of how it would look wrapped around his dick, or see his hands move in those elaborate gestures without considering what it would be like to ride them, and of course there’s the fact that Jared is clumsy as hell and keeps dropping things and showing Jensen his ass when he bends to pick them up.
And then Jensen thinks about how hot it would be to be buried deep inside Jared, ass so tight and round, bouncing on Jensen’s dick as he-
This has gotten out of hand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to pick up some adult furniture at the antique store, bring it home, and just enjoy being a goddamn adult man with good furniture. Or not having to listen to Danni bitch. He’s really lost the original purpose at this point.
It’s Friday night and Jensen knows that Jared is working tonight. He grabs a beer and heads into his bedroom. He’s just going to sit down on his bed, have a beer, and not think about how badly he wants to fuck his maybe still hallucinatory magical friend. Or be fucked by. At this point Jensen is so not picky it’s insane.
Except not thinking about it means thinking about it, and that means that eventually Jensen finds himself unzipping his pants and wiggling them down around his ankles along with his boxers.
He’s hard just from the internal visual, but he closes his eyes to lock down the image as he wraps his still cool hand around his dick. The condensation from the bottle that transferred to his hand makes his grip a little clammy, but he pretends it’s Jared. That they’ve spent the night hanging out in here, TV playing, and then halfway through the commercials Jared cracked a joke about how he was sure he could get Jensen off before the show started back up, and Jensen dared him, and here they are.
Jensen’s getting into it, hand speeding up and heels digging into the comforter, and Jared is squeezing a little tighter and twisting at the head and smiling at him and Jensen just-
The sensation hits him at the edge of his orgasm, balls drawing up and heat in his gut, and then Jensen opens his eyes even as he’s mouthing Jared’s name to figure out what’s wrong and sees Jared standing there with his mouth open and a plastic bag on the floor beside his feet.
He can’t stop it. It’s too late. Jensen comes, hips jerking up and come hitting his shirt, and then he’s staring at Jared’s shocked face and wondering if he can disappear off the face of the earth. After all, if magic mirrors exist why can’t fucking invisibility?
Jared saw him jerking off. Jared saw him come. Jared saw him say Jared’s name.
Since he still doesn’t know how to apply the magic though, his only option is to roll off the bed and hobble as quick as he can to the mirror. Jared’s mouth is open, hands up and gesturing, but Jensen cuts him off by dropping the sheet over the glass and then standing perfectly still with both hands empty and chest heaving.
Well.
That’s the end of that.
----
“You’re being more of a bitch than you usually are.”
Jensen pretends Danni’s on the other side of a magic mirror and he can’t hear her. Or he tries, but it doesn’t really work because she grabs his ear and twists after several minutes of silence.
“Jesus, Danni! What the hell?”
She smiles and then pets his ear briefly.
“Who is it? Who’s the lucky guy or gal that got your eye and why the fuck aren’t you with them?”
Jensen considers saying because he isn’t sure that Jared even exists. He thinks about telling Danni that he’s decided he’s a reckless pervert who needs to be locked forever in his house in solitary confinement.
He’s saved from any answer at all by the doorbell ringing. It’s gotta be Aldis, he hasn’t seen his friend in weeks, or maybe a pizza delivery guy that went to the wrong house, because that happened once when he first moved in. It doesn’t really matter because Jensen is going to wrap his arms around his savior and give them anything they want. He’s saved!
He’s cursed.
First it was the mirror, seducing him somehow into buying its chintzy ass before tricking him into putting it right in front of his goddamn bed like some stereotyped pervert looking to get off on his own reflection.
Which was not what he was doing.
Then it opened its magical portal into the bedroom of the world’s most perfect guy, and of course the guy lived close by, and left it open so that Jensen could get a good look at what only worked in a ridiculously niche and fantastical setting.
And then it had the goddamn audacity to let Jared into his house. And forget that Jared rang the doorbell which meant he came from outside. Jensen never gave Jared his address. How else would he get to his house other than via cursed mirror?
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, and even as his brain starts to pathetically suggest the weakest of excuses Jensen is slamming into the wall, head bouncing off the plaster and eyes flying wide.
Well of course Jared is angry. Jensen betrayed their friendship, violated Jared’s privacy, and earned the hell out of the beating he’s about to get. And he ignores the fact that Jared smells delicious, or that in real life Jensen gets a good idea of how tall and broad Jared really is, because any second now those big hands he stared at so much are about to start pummeling his face.
Except Jared kisses him. His mirror friend’s lips are soft despite how forceful the motion is. They convey a wealth of aggression and need, and Jensen responds in kind before he can even think about it. His fingers twine into Jared’s soft hair, tilt Jared’s head just a little, and he parts his lips to accept Jared’s tongue.
When the kiss breaks Jensen is staring into Jared’s beautiful multi-colored eyes, pupils dark and mouth curled in satisfaction, and his dick jumps when Jared licks his lips and then speaks audibly for the first time.
“Bedroom. Now.”
Jensen hears a throat clearing, turns his head, and spies Danni standing in his foyer with a big smile and her purse hanging off her shoulder.
“I’m just gonna go and let you two spend some time together. I’ll kick your ass for keeping this a secret later Jen. Bye Mystery Man!”
With that his friend leaves, and Jensen gets picked up almost effortlessly and carried through his living room and into his hallway. He can think enough to direct Jared to the proper door, to give him a vague understanding of which one is the bedroom, and then his verbal skills come to a screeching halt.
Jared glides right past the mirror, drops Jensen on the bed, and is on him before he’s even finished bouncing. Jensen hears more than feels his belt being ripped open, and then Jared’s hand is in his pants.
“Me too. Jensen. Gotta help me out.” Jared speaks against his mouth, voice deep and rough, and he’s already jerking Jensen off at a speed that makes him worry about friction burns.
He fumbles Jared’s belt open, finds that big dick he’s stared at so much, and grips it tight before he starts working it.
“Jared. Jesus, fuck, slow it down a little.”
And Jared does. He lets go of Jensen just long enough to spit in his hand, and Jensen follows his example. Then they’re jerking each other off simultaneously, pacing perfect and bodies rubbing together. Jared is built, every line of him tight muscle and sensation, and Jensen loves it. Loves being blanketed by Jared’s hot body.
“You covered it. You asshole.” Jared pants into him, mouth moving to kiss him and then pulling back just a little again. “I had to Google every fucking physical therapist in the state to find one named Jensen.”
Jensen arches up into Jared’s hand, so close already he knows he’s going to embarrass himself in a few seconds and he can only hope that Jared’s moaning and thrusting into his hand means he will too.
“Thought you’d. Thought you’d hate me for. For getting off to you.”
Jensen nips Jared’s lower lip, and then tilts his head to bite Jared’s throat. It’s just the right thing to do apparently because Jared comes in his hand and the spray of him on Jensen’s dick, the way his hand contracts tightly, and the sharp inhalation of Jared’s breath are the final straw that have him coming in Jared’s hand.
“Just mad you weren’t getting off with me. Jesus, Jensen. You sure know how to make a guy work for it.”
And then Jared laughs, mouth open and pressed against Jensen’s cheek, and the sound is so perfect he hopes it never stops. That he can listen to it forever. He didn’t think anything could be better than the sight of Jared’s dimples, but no, with sound it’s a symphony.
“Yeah, well, can’t look like I’m easy.”
Jared laughs again, and then nudges Jensen until his face is forward and Jared is kissing him again.
“We just met and you let us take part in a mutual jerk-off session. Why would I think you’re easy?”
“We’ve been talking for months now man. What do you consider meeting?”
Jared’s grin is wicked.
“Hi. I’m Jared Padalecki. I bought a mirror from an antiques store a couple months ago and it showed me the most perfect man I’ve ever seen. That was you. Wanna date me?”
Jensen can’t help his smile in return.
“Hi. I’m Jensen Ackles. I bought a mirror from an antique shop too, and this incredibly gorgeous and funny guy was in it. That guy was you. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
Jared shifts, hand finally releasing his member as he flops down beside Jensen and stretches once like a huge, lazy cat.
“This might be a weird question but I’m kind of a homebody. Any chance your idea of a date is ordering pizza and playing video games? Or watching a movie?”
Jensen reach out and grips Jared’s hand, wincing at the sticky, cold come, but ignoring it in the interest of squeezing the other man’s hand.
“God. God, yes. I’ll order while you wash up.”
Rating: NC-17
Fandom(s): CW RPF
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Wordcount: 5,061
Beta: The wonderful
sammichgirl, who I finally finished early enough to give this to.Summary: Jensen buys a mirror at an antiques shop, but the reflection isn't quite what he was planning on.
Notes/Acknowledgments: I blame Justin Timberlake. I blame him so hard. Every night they play "Mirrors" at work, and every night I listen, and then this happened. This was written for the April
smpc.Jensen will be the first one to admit that he is not an interior decorator. His little house is filled with a hodgepodge collection of whatever furniture went on sale and felt comfiest. As a result he has an armchair in sky blue and a couch in burnt orange. His bed is incredibly comfortable mattresses set firmly on an old solid metal frame that squeaks when he rolls over or dares to make any movement really.
And he’s ok with that. He likes it that way, because the furniture fills its purpose without being a hassle. Which is why it’s so annoying when his ex-girlfriend side-eyes the scarred old bookshelf he just picked up that perfectly fits the space he chose for it.
“Jensen it’s. It’s like a targeted attack on aesthetic values. You don’t even…is that made of cartons?”
He blinks, follows her pointing finger, and then finally figures out what she’s referring to. He got that piece a month ago from a yard sale and it was light enough to haul in front of his couch all on his own.
“Well. Yeah, maybe. I mean it’s a coffee table. It’s really stable.”
The look on her face says more than her mouth ever could, and Jensen wishes she’d gone the kinder route and called him an idiot.
Danneel looks around the room one more time, pushes a smooth lock of hair behind her ear, and then throws her hands up. “Take me to the bedroom. At least you’ll have that together.”
Jensen shores up his defenses and takes her attacks for that set of decorative choices too.
---
And that’s how he ends up at an antiques store with Danneel, listening to her rattle off to the shop owner the long list of adult things Jensen is supposed to already own. He’s not interested in knowing what pattern his new couch will be or what kind of wood his credenza is composed of. What the hell is a credenza anyway?
He wanders away, feet taking him through progressively narrowing aisles until he’s in a little back room full of stock with no price tags and hefty layers of dust. There’s one window here, sunlight pushing lazily through and lighting up specks of dust, and it’s half covered by an old poster for Gone with the Wind. Jensen stands in the doorway for a long time, soaking in the grouping of antiques instead of trying to pick out any one specific item. This is a graveyard.
If he’s lucky Danni is finally winding down, has finished her list and he can just pull out his credit card and pay for his new furnishings without having to be involved. And if this new couch turns out to be stiff and formal like the one that graces Danni’s “parlor” then Jensen will make sure that his old couch can be resurrected quickly and quietly.
He’s turning slowly, hoping that if he takes just a little extra time to travel back through the maze of junk his extracted wallet will be the only part of him needed, when the sunlight catches the mirror just right and flashes into his eyes.
And there it is. Something about the heavy gilt frame, the long lean lines of the legs, or the spotted mirror itself that speaks of old vanity catches his eye. There’s a grace to it even though it’s obviously too ornate, opulent to the point of pretentiousness, and Jensen wants it instantly. He crosses the room, tripping over a pair of bronzed baby shoes that have been left out on floor, and reaches the mirror at the same time Danni’s voice reaches him from the hall beyond the door.
“Jensen! Jen it’s time to pay the man and then you can escape. What are you- oh honey no. Not that one.”
He turns, hand resting on the cold metal of the frame, and meets the shop owner’s eyes over Danni’s shoulder.
“Add it to the bill. I’m taking it home.”
----
Danni insists he put it in his bedroom, where she rather pointedly comments no one will ever see it. And Jensen agrees. It belongs in his bedroom where he can see it any time he wants.
It does occur to him that he may have an unhealthy obsession with a full-length mirror.
The shop owner gave him literature about it, said that it was quite old and well worth the price considering its condition, but all Jensen cares about is having it nearby. Except once it’s placed he realizes how little he uses mirrors. He has the one in the bathroom in case he needs to check the state of his hair, and that’s what he uses to shave, so what the hell does he need a full-length mirror for?
His lizard brain hisses at this logic and he strokes the little cherubs that dance across the top of the frame and down the sides. Maybe he needs to take a time out. Talk to someone.
With a little time and polish the mirror ends up bright and good as new. It shines in the corner of his room during the day, reflects his outline at night as he rolls restlessly over and over and chases sleep. Jensen wonders if he should change the angle of it now, because maybe watching yourself lay down and try to sleep is creepy, or at the very least less than soothing.
But he doesn’t change the angle, doesn’t move the mirror at all once he’s got it in place and fully cleaned, and once he’s gotten fully comfortable with it he knows that he probably never will.
---
The day everything changes begins with Jensen waking up late and rushing through getting ready in the hope that he can mitigate the lost time with not paying much attention to whether or not he’s clean-shaven or if his scrubs are one hundred percent clean.
It doesn’t save him much time.
He has two asshole athletes today that want to be totally healed without doing their exercises or giving themselves time to heal properly before they rejoin the team. One bitchy car accident victim who is showing way more mobility than she is claiming and insists she should be getting a full body massage after their appointments are complete, and Mrs. Dench who is both his favorite patient and the best baker he knows. She comes to every appointment with a plate of cookies so big and heavy Jensen has stopped having to buy snack food when he meets his friends to watch a game and drink.
By the time he gets to her though he’s so wrung out he can barely enjoy the flowery tales about her grandchildren or the scandalous history of her ladies’ tea society. He does like the quiet time afterward, when he sits in his office and stretches his own hands out in a series of muscle memory gestures that allow him to remind his fingers they are functioning body parts that can still grip a steering wheel and take him home.
He’s exhausted, ready to collapse when he gets home, but instead he pours a bag salad into a bowl and grabs a sandwich before taking the whole thing to bed and dropping onto the comforter. The television blares loudly through the quiet house, and Jensen carefully spreads his meal out in front of him before grabbing the remote again to choose a better program.
And that’s when he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye that isn’t right. He turns his head to the left, expecting to see himself turning to the right, and instead is faced with a pitch black surface. Jensen almost overturns his salad rushing to get off the bed and check the surface of the mirror. There’s any number of reasonable explanations as to why his bright room is reflecting darkly, and all of them relate to a broken mirror.
Except his fingers touch smooth glass, nothing broken or marred on the surface, and no explanation for what’s happened here. Maybe his terrible day created some form of vortex. Maybe years and years passed while he was at work, literally instead of just experientially, and now the mirror has clouded over with the progression of time and tide.
But that doesn’t seem logical.
Nothing really seems logical. There’s no reason for this to have happened, no clear rational- holy fuck something moved.
Jensen jumps back from the mirror, heartbeat racing and fingers trembling; because something in the darkness of the mirror’s surface moved and that shouldn’t have fucking happened. There’s no reason for that to have happened. In fact Jensen wants to go back to a minute before when the mirror was simply dark and that was all that was wrong with the world.
He considers calling 911, but does 911 come out for demonically possessed mirrors? They are in Texas. It’s really not that far from his house to a church is it? He’s never gone to a church in this neighborhood. Shit he hasn’t been to church since- it fucking moved again.
Jensen leaves the room and his dinner behind and spends the night out on the couch, fully awake and staring at the door to his bedroom.
----
When he was little Jensen was meticulous about never ever transgressing against the laws of superstition. His family wasn’t terribly religious, at least not strictly so, but that didn’t change the fact that it always seemed safer to avoid carelessly spilling salt or stepping on cracks.
Most importantly, Jensen has never broken a mirror.
He’s beginning to wonder if it’s time to retract that belief. He hasn’t been able to look at the mirror in three days. He darts from the hallway into the closet and back out again. He’s been shaving in the half bath and using the shower at work. His back hurts from the way he has to curl up to sleep on the couch.
Jensen wants his bedroom back.
The plan comes out in this sleep deprived, pain-induced delirium. Jensen moves slow and careful, blanket clutched in one hand and aluminum bat in the other. He’s not even sure anymore if he wants to cover the mirror so that it doesn’t know he’s the one who broke it, or so that he doesn’t see whatever Lovecraft inspired monster sleeps on the other side.
The room is brightly lit with sunshine; the birds chirp outside, and Jensen gears up for his big moment facing off with pure evil. He cocks his arm back, throws the blanket, and readies the bat.
And stops.
The blanket has missed its mark and the mirror shows not him holding the bat he’s had since he was an undergraduate, but instead a rather nice bedroom with an incredibly puzzled brunette man standing in Jensen’s spot staring at him in surprise and horror.
The brunette has a tire iron.
For a moment Jensen considers swinging anyway, but he’s already hesitated and now it seems silly to just swing without taking a moment to appreciate what he’s seeing. The guy is tall, handsome, and somewhat puppy-dog like as he tilts his head to the side and the grip he has on the tire iron goes slack.
He can see the sun outside mirror man’s window, shining through his blinds and lighting up tan skin. The eyes are hazel, big, and longish brown hair hangs around them and gets puffed away from his face when mirror man tries to tilt his head back upright.
The puffing doesn’t work.
“It’s more effective if you use your hand.”
The guy’s head tilts again, his mouth moves, but Jensen can’t hear him or read his lips. Why did he never pick up that skill? It had to be on the list somewhere. Maybe around learning Mandarin or picking up woodworking.
Woodworking would actually be useful.
It’s possible he’s gone insane, because he’s staring at a stranger in a mirror in his bedroom, in full daylight, and he’s thinking about woodworking. A hot stranger it bears repeating.
But instead of running from the room and for the nearest insane asylum, or calling someone to come and prove that the only thing showing in the mirror’s glass is his own reflection, Jensen pantomimes brushing hair from his face.
And mirror man laughs the best laugh Jensen has ever seen, dimples appearing near his pink lips and eyes wide as he pushes his own hair back in a mirrored reflection of Jensen’s action.
----
They’re watching TV together. Turns out mirror man, or Jared as the piece of paper he wrote his name on told Jensen, likes a lot of the same shows. At the moment they’re both reclined on their beds, catching each other’s gazes and sharing laughs at the show. Jared works nights sometimes, so every now and then Jensen comes home to find that Jared has pulled his blackout curtains so he can sleep.
Jensen doesn’t watch him. Really, he doesn’t.
On the other hand, he does spend almost every waking moment he is at home hanging out with Jared. For the last five months he’s gotten to know quite a bit about Jared, their communication skills improving once they both bought a whiteboard instead of writing everything out. Jared is one of three children, his mother is an English teacher and his father is a tax accountant, and he’s currently a student at the University of Texas. Engineering. Which means he’s handsome, funny, and smart.
It’s criminal how perfect he is.
Their only two issues are the fact that Jared foolishly likes the Spurs, and that as of a month ago he has started to ask Jensen to meet him in real life.
It’s easiest for Jensen to tell himself it’s because if he agrees, and Jared doesn’t really exist, that will prove he’s insane. And that’s a logical argument. Because sure, he could ride out to Austin, or tell Jared what city he lived in, but once he did he would have to deal with the fallout of no one being there but him.
His life is stressful. He works too much, he can’t keep up a steady relationship, and he rarely gets to see his family. His friends drag him out every now and then to blow off steam, but that doesn’t change the depressing realization that he is alone, and that he’ll probably remain that way.
The worst part is that he doesn’t necessarily mind it in the way he should. He and Danni’s relationship ended because Jensen would pick staying home and watching TV to going out to a bar or a club nine out of ten times. He doesn’t mourn his lack of a social life as much as he wishes he could find someone who liked being reclusive as much as he does.
And now he has. Sort of. He’s either having a ridiculously involved and detailed breakdown in which a hallucinatory man is literally trapped in his bedroom and befriending him, or he’s made the one relationship that will always be stable and located right in the place he’s most comfortable.
So he finds ways to avoid Jared’s suggestions that they meet. And while Jared doesn’t seem to like it much his friend never covers the mirror and shuts off their connection. He never turns away from Jensen. He just stays right where he is, watching TV, having long backwards conversations through text, and generally being perfect.
----
He comes home early. It’s such a rare occurrence that even Jensen is surprised when he walks in before seven and sees his living room.
The house is silent, as it always is, and Jensen moves through undoing his scrubs and heading for his shower to wash off the day. He steps through the door, and his eyes fall on the mirror as they always do.
Jared is jerking off.
Jensen freezes in place, one hand pressed against the doorframe and legs locked tight as he tries to figure out what he should do. The logical thing is to leave the room and give Jared his privacy.
He doesn’t leave.
Instead Jensen stands perfectly still watching Jared. His mirror friend is spread out on his bed, the blackout curtains cracked just enough that the light dances in a thick line over the center of his body, lighting up odd spots and angles.
The muscles in his inner thighs flex, his big toes curl down into the comforter, his abs tighten and flutter, and his mouth is open on a constant silent pant. To top it off his hands are busy, one wrapped tight around his dick and moving rapidly while the other dips below his balls as his fingertips tease his hole.
Jensen’s pretty sure Jared is moaning. He’s never wanted to hear anything as badly as he wants to hear this. Pink lips shaped in a perfect “O”, tongue peeking out just a little, and white teeth glinting in the sunshine.
He wonders what they would feel like scraping his shoulder, gliding against his tongue, gently rubbing his cock.
When did he start jerking off? Jensen can’t remember reaching into his scrubs and gripping his dick but apparently he did because right now he has a hand full of rock hard erection and precome wetting his boxers.
This is wrong. It’s gotta be wrong. He’s never been a voyeur before. He doesn’t even watch that much porn. But there’s something about the lines of Jared’s long body, the way his hand stutters in its rhythm or the tip of his long finger sliding into his body and is that a shine? Did Jared lube himself before Jensen came in? How many fingers is he planning to-three. Three fingers.
Jensen’s orgasm hits him hard and fast, and he sprays inside his boxers like a teenager with no more warning than the little noise that breaks from his mouth. His clean hand flies up, tries to catch the sound, and then he realizes Jared can’t hear him.
Or see him.
Jensen has just spied on his friend’s private moment, and he should feel awful but the buzzing euphoria from the orgasm makes that hard. He’ll feel guilty later. Right now he enjoys watching Jared finish himself off, fingers buried inside of him and fist twisting. Watches Jared’s face break open with his orgasm, the way his friend turns to look at Jensen’s empty bed when he comes, and the weird little half-smile that Jared gets afterward as he slowly jerks himself through the last parts of his orgasm.
And then it’s over and Jared is cleaning himself up and closing the curtains and Jensen is left staring at a dark mirror.
---
So maybe he starts scheduling his appointments earlier, and maybe he starts coming home at five, and maybe he jerks off a few more times to the sight of Jared fingering himself and jerking his cock.
Maybe.
And he definitely feels bad about it every time. He has to stop. He has to walk away from this, or tell Jared what he’s been doing, or something because he can’t keep treating the man like he’s some live action porno. Jared didn’t sign up for this. Jared’s smiling at him still, watching TV shows like always and dropping more and more not so subtle hints that Jensen should come and see him in person. Or give him his address. Or something.
Jensen can’t even pretend anymore that he has a better reason than that if he met Jared in person at this moment he would probably push him down and rub off on him like a dog. He can’t even look at Jared’s smile without thinking of how it would look wrapped around his dick, or see his hands move in those elaborate gestures without considering what it would be like to ride them, and of course there’s the fact that Jared is clumsy as hell and keeps dropping things and showing Jensen his ass when he bends to pick them up.
And then Jensen thinks about how hot it would be to be buried deep inside Jared, ass so tight and round, bouncing on Jensen’s dick as he-
This has gotten out of hand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to pick up some adult furniture at the antique store, bring it home, and just enjoy being a goddamn adult man with good furniture. Or not having to listen to Danni bitch. He’s really lost the original purpose at this point.
It’s Friday night and Jensen knows that Jared is working tonight. He grabs a beer and heads into his bedroom. He’s just going to sit down on his bed, have a beer, and not think about how badly he wants to fuck his maybe still hallucinatory magical friend. Or be fucked by. At this point Jensen is so not picky it’s insane.
Except not thinking about it means thinking about it, and that means that eventually Jensen finds himself unzipping his pants and wiggling them down around his ankles along with his boxers.
He’s hard just from the internal visual, but he closes his eyes to lock down the image as he wraps his still cool hand around his dick. The condensation from the bottle that transferred to his hand makes his grip a little clammy, but he pretends it’s Jared. That they’ve spent the night hanging out in here, TV playing, and then halfway through the commercials Jared cracked a joke about how he was sure he could get Jensen off before the show started back up, and Jensen dared him, and here they are.
Jensen’s getting into it, hand speeding up and heels digging into the comforter, and Jared is squeezing a little tighter and twisting at the head and smiling at him and Jensen just-
The sensation hits him at the edge of his orgasm, balls drawing up and heat in his gut, and then Jensen opens his eyes even as he’s mouthing Jared’s name to figure out what’s wrong and sees Jared standing there with his mouth open and a plastic bag on the floor beside his feet.
He can’t stop it. It’s too late. Jensen comes, hips jerking up and come hitting his shirt, and then he’s staring at Jared’s shocked face and wondering if he can disappear off the face of the earth. After all, if magic mirrors exist why can’t fucking invisibility?
Jared saw him jerking off. Jared saw him come. Jared saw him say Jared’s name.
Since he still doesn’t know how to apply the magic though, his only option is to roll off the bed and hobble as quick as he can to the mirror. Jared’s mouth is open, hands up and gesturing, but Jensen cuts him off by dropping the sheet over the glass and then standing perfectly still with both hands empty and chest heaving.
Well.
That’s the end of that.
----
“You’re being more of a bitch than you usually are.”
Jensen pretends Danni’s on the other side of a magic mirror and he can’t hear her. Or he tries, but it doesn’t really work because she grabs his ear and twists after several minutes of silence.
“Jesus, Danni! What the hell?”
She smiles and then pets his ear briefly.
“Who is it? Who’s the lucky guy or gal that got your eye and why the fuck aren’t you with them?”
Jensen considers saying because he isn’t sure that Jared even exists. He thinks about telling Danni that he’s decided he’s a reckless pervert who needs to be locked forever in his house in solitary confinement.
He’s saved from any answer at all by the doorbell ringing. It’s gotta be Aldis, he hasn’t seen his friend in weeks, or maybe a pizza delivery guy that went to the wrong house, because that happened once when he first moved in. It doesn’t really matter because Jensen is going to wrap his arms around his savior and give them anything they want. He’s saved!
He’s cursed.
First it was the mirror, seducing him somehow into buying its chintzy ass before tricking him into putting it right in front of his goddamn bed like some stereotyped pervert looking to get off on his own reflection.
Which was not what he was doing.
Then it opened its magical portal into the bedroom of the world’s most perfect guy, and of course the guy lived close by, and left it open so that Jensen could get a good look at what only worked in a ridiculously niche and fantastical setting.
And then it had the goddamn audacity to let Jared into his house. And forget that Jared rang the doorbell which meant he came from outside. Jensen never gave Jared his address. How else would he get to his house other than via cursed mirror?
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, and even as his brain starts to pathetically suggest the weakest of excuses Jensen is slamming into the wall, head bouncing off the plaster and eyes flying wide.
Well of course Jared is angry. Jensen betrayed their friendship, violated Jared’s privacy, and earned the hell out of the beating he’s about to get. And he ignores the fact that Jared smells delicious, or that in real life Jensen gets a good idea of how tall and broad Jared really is, because any second now those big hands he stared at so much are about to start pummeling his face.
Except Jared kisses him. His mirror friend’s lips are soft despite how forceful the motion is. They convey a wealth of aggression and need, and Jensen responds in kind before he can even think about it. His fingers twine into Jared’s soft hair, tilt Jared’s head just a little, and he parts his lips to accept Jared’s tongue.
When the kiss breaks Jensen is staring into Jared’s beautiful multi-colored eyes, pupils dark and mouth curled in satisfaction, and his dick jumps when Jared licks his lips and then speaks audibly for the first time.
“Bedroom. Now.”
Jensen hears a throat clearing, turns his head, and spies Danni standing in his foyer with a big smile and her purse hanging off her shoulder.
“I’m just gonna go and let you two spend some time together. I’ll kick your ass for keeping this a secret later Jen. Bye Mystery Man!”
With that his friend leaves, and Jensen gets picked up almost effortlessly and carried through his living room and into his hallway. He can think enough to direct Jared to the proper door, to give him a vague understanding of which one is the bedroom, and then his verbal skills come to a screeching halt.
Jared glides right past the mirror, drops Jensen on the bed, and is on him before he’s even finished bouncing. Jensen hears more than feels his belt being ripped open, and then Jared’s hand is in his pants.
“Me too. Jensen. Gotta help me out.” Jared speaks against his mouth, voice deep and rough, and he’s already jerking Jensen off at a speed that makes him worry about friction burns.
He fumbles Jared’s belt open, finds that big dick he’s stared at so much, and grips it tight before he starts working it.
“Jared. Jesus, fuck, slow it down a little.”
And Jared does. He lets go of Jensen just long enough to spit in his hand, and Jensen follows his example. Then they’re jerking each other off simultaneously, pacing perfect and bodies rubbing together. Jared is built, every line of him tight muscle and sensation, and Jensen loves it. Loves being blanketed by Jared’s hot body.
“You covered it. You asshole.” Jared pants into him, mouth moving to kiss him and then pulling back just a little again. “I had to Google every fucking physical therapist in the state to find one named Jensen.”
Jensen arches up into Jared’s hand, so close already he knows he’s going to embarrass himself in a few seconds and he can only hope that Jared’s moaning and thrusting into his hand means he will too.
“Thought you’d. Thought you’d hate me for. For getting off to you.”
Jensen nips Jared’s lower lip, and then tilts his head to bite Jared’s throat. It’s just the right thing to do apparently because Jared comes in his hand and the spray of him on Jensen’s dick, the way his hand contracts tightly, and the sharp inhalation of Jared’s breath are the final straw that have him coming in Jared’s hand.
“Just mad you weren’t getting off with me. Jesus, Jensen. You sure know how to make a guy work for it.”
And then Jared laughs, mouth open and pressed against Jensen’s cheek, and the sound is so perfect he hopes it never stops. That he can listen to it forever. He didn’t think anything could be better than the sight of Jared’s dimples, but no, with sound it’s a symphony.
“Yeah, well, can’t look like I’m easy.”
Jared laughs again, and then nudges Jensen until his face is forward and Jared is kissing him again.
“We just met and you let us take part in a mutual jerk-off session. Why would I think you’re easy?”
“We’ve been talking for months now man. What do you consider meeting?”
Jared’s grin is wicked.
“Hi. I’m Jared Padalecki. I bought a mirror from an antiques store a couple months ago and it showed me the most perfect man I’ve ever seen. That was you. Wanna date me?”
Jensen can’t help his smile in return.
“Hi. I’m Jensen Ackles. I bought a mirror from an antique shop too, and this incredibly gorgeous and funny guy was in it. That guy was you. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
Jared shifts, hand finally releasing his member as he flops down beside Jensen and stretches once like a huge, lazy cat.
“This might be a weird question but I’m kind of a homebody. Any chance your idea of a date is ordering pizza and playing video games? Or watching a movie?”
Jensen reach out and grips Jared’s hand, wincing at the sticky, cold come, but ignoring it in the interest of squeezing the other man’s hand.
“God. God, yes. I’ll order while you wash up.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2014-04-20 06:19 am (UTC)This was different, hot and awesome! And your description of Jared jerking off and fingering himself made me think of that not!Jared porn video....
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Date: 2014-06-05 03:38 am (UTC)I have just seen that video, and thank you. That is a great compliment! XD
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Date: 2014-04-20 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 03:40 am (UTC)I was so excited to do voyeur stuff oh man. I'd never really done that before. I'm glad it worked. XD
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Date: 2014-04-20 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-20 09:41 am (UTC)Just mild curiosity, but do you have the address of that antique shop? *Grabs pen & paper and waits patiently* I would like my own mirror Jared, pretty please...
xxx
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Date: 2014-06-05 03:43 am (UTC)Sadly, the original store has closed, but allow me to recommend this one, which also has a fair amount of interesting goods:
http://www.thesoutherncrossonline.com/
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Date: 2014-04-20 09:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 03:43 am (UTC)http://www.thesoutherncrossonline.com/
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Date: 2014-04-20 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-20 03:04 pm (UTC)Gorgeous! Yes! Love this.
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Date: 2014-06-05 03:51 am (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2014-04-20 04:47 pm (UTC)That’s the end of that.
Ouch, those little words broke my little walnut-like heart in two.
Everything else fixed it. ;)
Niiiiiiice!
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Date: 2014-04-21 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-21 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 03:53 am (UTC)I love your little walnut heart.
Thank you!
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Date: 2014-04-20 05:25 pm (UTC)xx
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Date: 2014-06-05 04:00 am (UTC)Thank you so much for enjoying it, and thanks for commenting!
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Date: 2014-04-20 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:02 am (UTC)Thank you so much for liking it, and for commenting!
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Date: 2014-04-20 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-21 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:02 am (UTC)Thank you so much!! XD
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Date: 2014-04-20 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:08 am (UTC)I get the feeling you enjoyed this? Because if so I'm glad!! BFF Jensen and Danni make me so happy. :) And he would be petulant and grumpy. Let me tell you that mirror was fucking hideous. Just terrible. But oh the benefits.
I'm so very very glad you liked this, and thank you so much for commenting and telling me!
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Date: 2014-04-20 11:42 pm (UTC)Also I agree with the first commenter. Sign me up for a mirror like that.
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Date: 2014-06-05 04:12 am (UTC)<3 If I find the mirror I will...take pictures of it for others. Which is sort of like sharing.
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Date: 2014-04-21 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:14 am (UTC)Thanks so much for reading this, and so glad you liked it!
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Date: 2014-04-21 11:39 pm (UTC)Great story by the way, both of them buying an antique mirror that happened to be a viewing portal in to the perfect guys bedroom.
Thanks for sharing.
*hugs*
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Date: 2014-06-05 04:18 am (UTC)Thank you so much, for liking and for commenting!
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Date: 2014-04-22 12:04 am (UTC)I love your ideas and the sweet and hot that come from your amazing mind. <333
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Date: 2014-06-05 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-22 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:24 am (UTC)Thanks so much for enjoying this, and for commenting!
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Date: 2014-04-27 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:25 am (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it, and thanks so much for commenting!
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Date: 2014-05-01 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 04:27 am (UTC)