@aledbr replied to your post “fake married?”
Why isn't this a thing yet? XD
“You’re more than welcome to take the couch,” Frank says without looking up from his laptop. “I’ll be up late working on this anyway, and I’d hate to disturb your beauty rest.”
The aforementioned couch is a massive leather monstrosity lurking in the other room of the suite. He’s relatively sure it folds out into a bed, and he’s likewise sure it’s a hell of a lot nicer than his own bed at home, which isn’t so much a bed as it is a blanket nest piled atop a mattress and box-spring he bought off the internet five years ago. Hell, if Jensen were anyone but Jensen, Frank would probably offer to take the couch himself.
Unfortunately, Jensen is very much Jensen, which means he’s currently stretched out next to Frank on the bed, drinking a whiskey and reviewing his notes on the conference and showing a completely unnecessary amount of skin. The little smirk he gives when Frank finally looks up to see if he’s listening is also completely unnecessary, largely because it does unfortunate things to Frank’s hindbrain.
“Beauty rest, huh?” Jensen says. He sounds amused.
“So?” Jensen’s smirk widens. Frank kinda wants to punch him, but that would involve touching and Jensen appears to have developed a pathological allergy to shirts. “What? What’s so funny?”
The smirk finally breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin. “You think I’m pretty,” Jensen says, and Frank barely restrains himself from throwing the laptop at him.
