Chapter Text
Jensen Ackles did not do chaos. Chaos was Jared’s department. Specifically, Jared Padalecki—6’4" of golden retriever energy, architectural brilliance, and zero spatial awareness. Currently, Jared was attempting to assemble a bookshelf upside down while Jensen’s cat, Destiny, glared from the sofa like a tiny, furry judge.
"Jared, the instructions are literally pictures," Jensen said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How did you pass structural engineering?"
"I see the world in 3D, man!" Jared beamed, waving a screwdriver dangerously close to Jensen’s favorite lamp. "2D is limiting."
"You’re going to limit my lamp’s life expectancy," Jensen grumbled, rescuing the lamp. "Why am I always saving your things?"
"Because you love me," Jared said, not missing a beat. Then he tripped over his own feet, sending the screwdriver clattering.
Jensen sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Idiot."
"Your idiot," Jared corrected, grinning. And Jensen—grumpy, skeptical Jensen—didn’t deny it.
********
Flashback: College – 10 Years Ago
Jensen’s RA phone rang at 2 AM. "Dude, my room’s kinda… wet?" Jared’s voice was soaked in panic.
"Define ‘wet,’" Jensen said, already pulling on shoes.
"Like… underwater wet?"
Jensen found Jared standing in 3 inches of water, cradling a soggy cardboard model of a skyscraper like a drowned kitten.
"My final project," Jared whispered, devastated.
Jensen sighed, rolled up his pants, and waded in. "Come on, Aquaman. Let’s save your dreams."
He spent the next hour helping Jared salvage the model, using hairdryers and Jared’s roommate’s fan. By dawn, it was mostly dry, slightly warped, but intact.
"You saved my dreams," Jared said, awestruck.
"I saved your damp cardboard," Jensen corrected. But Jared’s starry-eyed look made his chest feel weird.
********
Since that fateful night (or dawn), Jared became a permanent fixture in Jensen’s dorm. He’d sprawl on Jensen’s bed while Jensen studied, sketching wildly in notebooks.
"What are you even drawing?" Jensen asked once.
"Your hands," Jared said, like it was obvious. "They’re so… precise. Like you know exactly where everything goes."
Jensen blinked. "They’re hands."
"Exactly," Jared said, like that explained everything.
********
They were drunk. Very, very drunk. Cheap tequila and the existential dread of becoming Real Adults.
Their friends sprawled out on the floor. Tired of saying many stupid things along with the liquids.
"What if we’re alone forever?" Jared lamented, staring at the ceiling of Jensen’s crappy apartment. "What if we die alone and our cats eat our faces?"
"We don’t have cats," Jensen pointed out.
"Yet!" Jared sat up, eyes wide. "Let’s seal on the promise we made before. If we’re both single at 30… marry me?"
Jensen snorted. "Like I said. Only if you cook. I’d starve."
"Deal!" Jared held out his pinky. "At 30, if we’re alone, we marry each other."
Jensen linked pinkies with him. "Deal."
The next morning, they both forgot. Mostly.
*******
"Earth to Jen!" Jared waved a hand in front of Jensen’s face. "You zoned out again. Thinking about spreadsheets?"
"No," Jensen said, though he had been thinking about spreadsheets. And maybe Jared’s hands. "Thinking about how you’re going to stab me with that screwdriver."
"Dramatic," Jared laughed, finally setting the bookshelf upright. "See? Perfect."
It was upside down. Jensen didn’t have the heart to tell him.
Later, while Jared was in the shower, Jensen knocked over his bag. A sketchbook fell out—Jared’s. Jensen went to pick it up, and it fell open to a page filled with… his hands. Dozens of sketches. His hands holding coffee, holding a pen, holding Destiny. All labeled: "Jensen’s Hands. So precise. So steady. So… his."
Jensen stared, his chest doing that weird thing again. "Huh," he whispered. "Idiot."
But he didn’t close the book. He just kept staring.
********
That night, they met Danneel and Genevieve for burgers.
"Finally!" Danneel slid into the booth beside Jensen. "I thought you two eloped."
"Ew," Jensen said, though he didn’t move away from Jared, who immediately stole half his fries.
"Seriously," Genevieve said, sliding in next to Jared. "You two are more married than most married couples. When’s the wedding?"
"Never," Jensen said at the same time Jared said, "Soon, hopefully."
They stared at each other.
"We’re not dating," Jensen clarified.
"Right," Danneel said, exchanging a look with Genevieve. "And I’m not secretly in love with my barista."
"Hey!" Jared protested. "I’m a catch!"
"You’re a disaster," Jensen muttered, but he stole a fry from Jared’s plate.
"See?" Danneel said to Genevieve. "Married."
Jensen just grumbled and stole another fry.
********
They continued their night out to a local bar. Jared was telling a story about his latest architectural disaster, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. Jensen is watching him, a small smile on his face.
"You’re staring again," Danneel whispers to Jensen.
"I’m not," Jensen lies, but his ears turn red.
"You are," Danneel grins. "You look like a lovestruck teenager."
"Shut up," Jensen mutters. "At least I’m not the one who’s been in love with Stephen Ammel since college."
"Hey!" Danneel says, feigning offense. "That was supposed to be a secret!"
"It’s not a secret!" Jensen laughs. "Everyone knows! You’re not subtle!"
"I’m more subtle than you," Danneel insists.
"No, you’re not!" Jensen says. "You’re always ‘accidentally’ touching his arm or ‘fixing’ his tie!"
"At least I don’t make spreadsheet tracking someone’s moods, favorite foods, "bad date" days!" Danneel shoots back. Jensen’s face turning red.
"It’s weird. And adorable."
"It’s not weird!" Jensen says, but he’s turning even redder.
"See? You’re both idiots."
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