First Impressions Aren't For Me (Jared's POV)
First Impressions Aren't For Me 2/3
Pairing: Jared/Jensen (very oh-so brief Jensen/Mike)
Rating: PG13 for now
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: I do not own them. I barely own myself.
Summary: Jensen has a nice life. Calm, quiet, and carefully structured. His annoying, loud downstairs neighbor doesn't really care. Jared has just graduated from college and is truly on his own for the first time. He loves the freedom, but the rude, uptight dude that lives above him keeps messing with his fun. Bet ya can't guess where this is going...
Part One Here:
Jared was thrilled. He'd finally, finally gotten an apartment, a job, and the ink on his diploma was barely dry. He had to admit, though, that he sort of wished he hadn't promised Chad he could crash on his couch until he found a place of his own.
The late nights spent making small talk with whatever drunken college girls Chad managed to drag home was getting to be too much. He didn't want to do the college thing anymore. Staying out late, drinking because he was old enough, and existing on three hours of sleep.
Besides, he didn't even like girls.
Jared was sitting on the couch, music pounding as he tried to concentrate on some magazine he'd picked up, when someone started knocking on the door. Chad was in the bathroom, doing something Jared didn't want to even image, and he eyed the door thoughtfully. It had to be another one of Chad's drunken conquests, and Jared wasn't having any of it.
Damn, but the girl had some muscle on her, though. Almost took the door off the hinges. Jared shrugged it off and went back to reading about LiLo's latest escape from jail time. He didn't much care, but it kept him from focusing on the sounds coming from his bathroom.
A few moments later a note slid under the door. Frowning, Jared heaved himself to his feet, moving across the room to pick up whatever crazed love note had been left on his living room floor.
Apartment 1422 tenant,
You have been a constant disruption since you moved in. You have also clearly violated the terms of the rental agreement by playing loud music past the agreed to 10pm quiet time. I would appreciate it if you began to adhere to the rules of the building, or I will go to the Board and issue a complaint.
Apartment 1522 tenant
Jared held the note in his hand, stunned. What the fuck! He'd just gotten the apartment and now he might lose it? No! What if it was like bad credit and followed him for the next seven years! Plus, who in the world signed a letter Apartment 1522 tenant?
The dude must be some old, crochety asshole with no life beyond the torment of others. Jared tried not to think about the music that was pounding at the edge of his hearing. No one else had complained! What if they didn't bother to complain and just went straight to the board?
Visions of dour faced elders in black robes and white powdered wigs danced in front of Jared's eyes. He could feel his pulse speeding up, and he almost shrieked when Chad and blonde, drunk chick stumbled back into the room.
Jared strode to the entertainment center and jabbed the off button on his stereo. Chad narrowed his eyes, an arm looped around bony, spray tanned shoulders. "What the hell, dude?"
"Chad, man. We got to stop this shit. I'm getting hate mail from my neighbors!" he held up the crumpled note.
Rolling his eyes, Chad moved to turn the music back on. "Whatever, man. Just ignore the uptight fucks."
"Chad, I can't. This isn't a dorm or some cheap apartment building held up by beer towers and co-eds. I am trying to build my fucking future."
Chad sighed, turning to the girl leaning into his side. "Wanna hang out at your place? My friend has recently lost his balls."
Jared had forgotten how mean drunk Chad could be. "Take a cab!" he shouted, as Chad slammed the door shut behind him.
Jared heaved a sigh, grabbed his keys, and followed Chad out the door. He might as well try to resolve the matter between himself and Tenant 1522. He made his way up the (really freaking creepy) stairs and carefully checked apartment numbers until he came to 1522.
He stared warily at the door. It was probably some busybody that would tell on children for setting up a lemonade stand without a permit. He or she probably hated dogs, too. Jared growled lightly to himself as he pounded on the door.
He did not expect what was on the other side of the door. Tired green eyes glared from a face graced with amazing lips, Hollywood bone structure, and hair that stuck out in a way that made Jared want to touch, touch, touch.
Dammit! Angry Tenant 1522 was a hot asshole. Glancing down, Jared almost lost it. The man was in his fucking boxers. They clung just enough to promise more. Dammit!
Jared held up the crumpled note. "You, uh, left this?" He said dazedly. The guy just glared harder, his red rimmed eyes like lasers through Jared's skin.
The green eyed man nodded, chin jutting slightly in defense. Jared barely heard his reply for the sound of his voice. All rough edges and fire-smoothed whiskey. He did, however, catch the contempt and annoyance that tinged the man's answer.
He offered up a weak defense. In his heart, he knew they'd been too loud, but he was so tired, Chad had just been such a dick, and this guy was so damned hot to be so damned uptight.
He was also extremely embarrassed when he realized that the man had tried to talk to him first. His stomach dropped at the realization that he had missed the opportunity to talk to the man, maybe lay on some charm...
The door slamming in his face made Jared blink back tears of frustration. He'd been on his own for just a few weeks and all he'd done was land a lousy job waiting tables, piss off the hottest guy he'd ever seen, and he hadn't even been able to get rid of Chad at graduation.
Life fucking sucked.
****
Jared managed to catch a Greyhound to San Antonio to pick up his jeep. He'd convinced his boss to give him three days off in a row, but it meant four days of doubles. Jared spent most of the trip sleeping the sleep of a contortionist. Being tall was awesome, except when it wasn't.
He let his mama cook his favorite foods, slept in his old bed, and played with his babies. He didn't know how long it would be before Harley and Sadie would come live with him, but he missed them more than he thought was healthy.
He had missed having the freedom of his own transportation, but it was bittersweet when he pulled away from his parent's house. They all waved goodbye, and Jared watched them in his rearview mirror until one by one, they went back inside. His little sister was last, standing small and slender on the front steps.
Being grown up was not what he'd thought it would be. He'd thought he would find a job easily. He hadn't found anything in his field, he didn't mind waiting tables, but it wasn't even close to what he wanted.
He drove through the night, pulling into the parking lot in the morning. He had to work in less than twelve hours, and he needed sleep. His mood perked up as he found the perfect spot to park. His jeep's top was a bitch to get up, he wasn't in the mood to try, and the entire parking lot was lined with trees full of poop bombing birds. One spot stood out, open to the sun and the air, but blessedly free of any tree limbs.
Jared popped the parking brake and bounded off to get some much needed sleep.
****
He was in much better spirts when he woke up. He dressed in black pants and a white shirt, tried to fix his hair, and rushed out the door. He spotted Tenant 1522 as he headed to his jeep, and he frowned as he thought of how he'd flubbed their previous encounter.
He glanced in his rearview mirror as he drove away and idly wondered why the man was suddenly running toward the cherry impala that had been parked next to him.
He shook the thought away as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to work. It went well, at first. Everyone tipped 20%, which was a rare and beautiful thing, and no one treated him like he was their whipping post. Then, a drunken customer stood to make a toast to her equally drunken companions and somehow managed to tip the entire table over.
It just got worse from there, and Jared went home stained with merlot, red sauce, and an interesting blend of cheesecake and bread pudding. Whatever, it was done, and he didn't even have to wait for a bus. He pulled into the apartment parking lot and rolled slowly down the aisle until he reached his parking spot. A huge muscle car was settled in his spot.
Jared's eyes narrowed as he remembered the bow legged gait of Tenant 1522. That bastard! That petty, malicious bastard had stolen his spot!
Jared stopped by his apartment long enough to change out of his disgusting uniform and made his way to the floor above.
Jared ignored the small flutter of lust that hit him in the stomach when the dude opened the door. He went off on the guy, ignoring the weariness in the other man's voice, and forcing himself not to get distracted by a weird desire to tell the man about his folk's home in Texas.
It shouldn't have surprised him when a door slammed in his face. It seemed to be a defining trait of their encounters. Sighing softly, Jared went back downstairs. He consoled himself by telling himself that Tenant 1522 was probably so straight that he only dated women that looked like his mother. It didn't help much, but it was something.
****
"Hey, Jared! Table thirteen! I'm seating a two top there, but he's waiting for his date."
Jared nodded, moving on autopilot.
"Can I get you a drink, sir, while you..." His voice trailed off as he realized that the man seated at his table was Tenant 1522. And dressed in an amazing green shirt that made his eyes look like jewels. Jared groaned inwardly and offered to get a different waiter.
He tried not to smile too hard as the man waved off his offer and began to tease him. He didn't really know how to react. This man was charming, funny, and so at ease. He even had freckles.
That was almost cruel.
He was about to offer a belated apology for the way they'd first met when a bald man came out of nowhere. He was handsome and obviously flustered as he greeted Tenant 1522--Jensen.
He walked away, his mind reeling, as he went to get two glasses of their finest, cheapest red wine.
He was so screwed.
Part Three
Comments are like tricks and treats...