J2 Fic. Kings of Queens - Part One
Kings of Queens - Part One
Ridgewood, Queens NY, 2001.
It’s hot, too hot, there barely seems to be enough air to breathe. Jared’s body is slick with sweat; his skin is so glossy he’s looks like a waxwork model come to life.
Queens is something else. The roads in Ridgewood are busy with traffic, the sidewalks full of people. Everywhere feels like it’s bursting at the seams, straining to break free and spill over the edges.
The noise, the general clamour of life in Queens, always reaches a crescendo at the weekends.
Jared isn’t wearing his shirt today, whenever he tries putting on his tee it’s dripping wet five seconds later. His momma’s grown tired of washing sweat-drenched clothes so he’s settled for an old pair of basketball shorts and grungy looking sneakers. Jensen is wearing his favorite jeans and a plain white vest top that hangs loose and baggy on his muscular frame.
They only have a few dollars between them, there’s not even enough loose change rattling around in their pockets to ride the subway out to Coney Island so they settle for going nowhere. They spread out two towels and lie down side by side on the roof of the apartment building they’ve both lived in their whole lives. Jared on the fifth floor, Jensen on the forth. The Padaleckis’ apartment is directly above the Ackles’. Jensen goes to sleep most nights staring up at a stain on his bedroom ceiling while trying to perfect his x-ray vision.
He doesn’t try to envisage what Jared looks like asleep in bed, nothing touching his mile-long body but a thin bed sheet and he doesn’t jerk off to those same mental images either. Nope, he’s never done that.
They’ve been passing a bottle of warm orange soda back and forth for the last twenty minutes, when the bottle is empty Jared gets to his feet and mooches over to the edge of the roof. It’s too hot for him to attempt anything even remotely energetic and although Jared’s usually twitchy with excess energy, today- the same as everyone else suffocating in the stifling heat-he’s running on empty.
Without warning, Jared sticks out his hand and drops the glass bottle over the edge of the roof as though he doesn’t care a crap if it hits some poor sucker on the head.
Still, appearances aside, he did steal a glance down at the sidewalk first and Jensen saw him do it, so Jensen knows that Jared’s only fucking around. Jared cares about people even if he does walk though life acting as though he doesn’t have to play by the rules.
Jared’s phoney nonchalance gives him an air of unpredictability, an air that seems to attract girls to him like a fat guy to an ‘all you can eat’ buffet. Jensen knows the act is bullshit but he never calls Jared on it. Jared’s trapped by the same boundaries everyone else is, he’s just real good at pretending otherwise and gets a kick out of testing those boundaries every now and again.
Jensen curses when he hears the bottle smash and Mrs. Romano shrieking in surprise. Mrs. Romano runs the grocery store next-door to their apartment building and Jensen can picture her leaning out of her shop doorway, her sagging chest heaving with palpitations. The shock is quickly replaced with anger and her Italian accent is laid on thick and heavy as she shouts at the top of her voice to nobody in particular, “The dumb kids in this neighborhood need to get a paper-route and stop lying around on their friggin’ lazy bum asses.”
Jared yells back something offensive about Mrs. Romano's ass, about the humongous size of it to be exact and it’s enough to make Jensen cover his face with his hands but he’s powerless to stop the smile which takes over control of his mouth.
Jared’s happy-go-lucky, that’s what everyone who knows him says and it’s partly true but it’s simply one more mask that Jared wears, one which protects the scared kid hiding underneath. The kid that Jensen gets to see when they’re alone together because that’s the only real time Jared relaxes enough to let his guard down and all his fears and insecurities tumble out.
They’re not high school kids anymore, both of them stuck in the strange halfway house when high school is behind them and whatever comes next is just starting to light up the path ahead. This is their last weekend together and it feels like they’re clinging to each passing second with all the desperation of a condemned man counting down his days on death row.
Even though this weekend is something to be savoured, they’re doing what they always do when they’ve got no money and no place to go. They’re kicking back, lounging around and working on their tans but every joke they exchange is tinged with sadness, every teasing remark following by a touch to the back or shoulder that lingers a little too long.
Jensen knows he’s leaving in the morning but now he’s actually staring down the barrel of a life away from Queens, he doesn’t feel ready. His bags are already packed with the stack loads of dress shirts, smart pants and sweater vests his mom’s been buying, telling him he’ll need to wear something more respectable than just a wife-beater and jeans torn off at the knee when he starts college in Washington State University.
Jensen’s basketball scholarship means he’ll be the first one in his family to go to college. The scholarship is a miracle, a blessing from God his dad says and quite honestly it’s true, his parents could never afford to pay his tuition fees.
It’s the best thing to ever happen to him but at the same time it’s the worst because when Jensen thinks about leaving Jared behind, leaving him here, it’s the closest he’s ever come to bawling his eyes out like a baby. All Jensen’s life he’s wanted to leave Queens but now that the opportunity is right in front of him, taking it feels like the worst kind of betrayal.
Everyone on the team thought it was pretty much carved in stone that Jared and Jensen would both get scholarships to play basketball in college. They kind of thought so too but then, late last year, Jared fucked his knee up when some giant Irish kid from a rival school in the Bronx fouled him in a dirty game and after that, Jared just couldn’t play like he had before.
Jared said Coach only kept his lame ass on the team because he felt sorry for him. “Pity party player,” that’s what Jared called himself. “Ten seconds remaining and the game’s already won, bring on the pity party player,” He’d say it with a wry grin on his face but Jensen knew how much it ripped Jared apart inside to have something so important taken away from him.
Jensen watches Jared as he walks unhurriedly over to sprawl back down on the towel, which is proving little protection against the roasting hot pitch. There are clumps of hair stuck to Jared’s temple with the heat, thick waves of chestnut brown curling up at the base of his long neck as though his hair is planning to take off from his head any second now. Jared always did have crazy fucking hair but Jensen likes it, wants to run his fingers through it until they’re tangled up in knots. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.
Jared’s quiet now that he’s got the need to try and cause chaos out of his system. He’s right here, next to Jensen, but he’s distant. His mind is miles away, someplace else, someplace far. Jensen hates it when Jared gets that look in his eyes, that desolate, hopeless look that says he knows he’s going to always be stuck in Queens.
Jensen’s been sitting on his hands for most of the morning, Jared’s got a shiner again and it’s the only thing Jensen can do to stop himself from reaching out to try and touch the purple marks under Jared’s eye which extend to a small cut on the bridge of his nose.
Gerry Padalecki drinks too much, he’s out of work and the last few months of struggling without success to find himself a new job have transformed him into a bitter man with a quick temper and even quicker fists. He lashes out whenever he’s the worse for drink and his fury only increases when Jared steps in, trying to avert Gerry’s booze-fuelled rage away from his mom and little sister.
“Remember when we were kids?” Jared says suddenly breaking Jensen out of his musings. Jared’s rolled over onto his side so that he’s facing Jensen and he’s close enough now that their noses are almost touching. Jensen has to blink a few times before Jared comes back into focus.
We’re still kids, Jensen thinks. “Yeah?”
“We always used to say that we’d save up for a bus ticket so we could run away to California together.” Jared’s hand is rubbing at his chest, like he’s trying to soothe away an ache. “We’re never going to do it are we?”
Jensen stares up at the sky, eyes following a soaring bird until he can’t see it anymore. The sun is a bright orange ball of flame beating down on them. It’s the same sun as the one which beats down on California.
Jared seems so sad all the time lately that all Jensen wants-more than anything- is to make that sadness go away. Without letting himself think about what he’s doing, he wriggles closer and quickly kisses Jared’s mouth. Jared’s lips are dry and chapped. Jared tastes of wrecked dreams and spoilt promises. He tastes of regret and desire and a pained desperation which makes Jensen want to scream until his voice is gone.
Jared falters but only for the barest second, then he’s shuffling closer, cupping Jensen’s face with his large hand as he kisses back passionately. Their groins are rubbing together and the friction causes sparks to shoot behind Jensen’s eyelids and hungry warmth to erupt in the pit of his belly.
Jensen wants the kiss to last for as long as possible and so he grips his fingers onto the waistband of Jared’s shorts, keeping them pressed tightly enough together that Jensen can feel Jared’s heart pounding in his chest. They’re so close now that sweat from the ends of Jared’s shaggy hair keeps dripping onto Jensen’s cheeks and nose.
Jensen finally opens his eyes and stares at Jared’s closed lids; he takes a mental photograph because he always wants to remember this moment. Jared, broken but still beautiful, half-naked and wanting him. Needing him.
Jared makes a low moan in his throat as the kiss ends and smiles a smile which is wide and genuine, and Jensen wants this moment even more now, wants to keep it forever. “I wish we could be free...in California...together.” Jared mumbles softly, eyes open again and never once leaving Jensen’s face.
“California’s a state.” Jensen whispers back, hands moving over the firm hard muscle of Jared’s chest on autopilot. “Maybe it’s a state of mind.”
His fingers tease their way inside Jared’s shorts, stroking at the throbbing thick cock he finds even as the fingers of his other hard are starting to tug the shorts lower and lower.
“When you go, you’ll never come back.” Jared says and he sounds so confident that Jensen stops moving, stops fucking breathing.
“You’re here.” Jensen whispers, “I’ll always come back.” It’s a truth he’s one hundred percent positive about, that and how badly he’s in love with his best friend. “Wait for me?”
~Four months later~
In the back of Jensen’s mind he should have known that something would go wrong, should have been preparing himself for bad news but it’s still a shock, still enough to make his legs turn to jelly when he answers the phone ringing loud and shrill in his tiny dorm room and hears the sound of someone crying on the other end.
He fumbles with the receiver and it clatters to the floor, he picks it up again in a rush, getting himself tangled in the cord as he presses it back against his ear. The person crying on the phone is Megan Padalecki.
Jensen is too numb, too fucking scared witless to follow much of what Megan says when she’s composed herself enough to speak but in-between her lengthy pauses and hiccupping sobs he hears loud and clear the part when she says that Jared’s hurt.
Those two words are the only ones in the entire conversation which automatically embed themselves in Jensen’s brain.
He hasn’t spoken to Jared in over a week. Too damn busy, too preoccupied with practice and studying for class. Part of him is always reluctant to return Jared’s phone calls because every time he hears Jared’s voice another piece of him splinters and he wants to climb into the telephone, just to find a way to be back by Jared’s side.
After their shared kiss and the desperately frantic fuck that followed on the rooftop of their building, with the unmistakable skyline of New York a shimmering haze in the distant background behind them, Jared had stumbled back downstairs to take a shower and Jensen had spent the rest of the afternoon with his head so turned around he could barely see straight.
The very next morning-the morning of Jensen’s departure-Jared was there, smiling and cheerily yanking at Mackenzie’s braids as though nothing had changed. As though Jensen was merely going on a day trip, not leaving for college. He had stood rocking on his heels as Jensen loaded the bags piled up high on the curb into his cab and watched wordlessly as Jensen bid a tearful goodbye to his family.
Then Jared had stepped forward and hugged Jensen, albeit briefly-as though it hurt too much to touch-and mumbled, “Don’t forget your friends, asshole,” into Jensen’s ear. Jared’s hot sticky breath against his neck had almost been enough to make Jensen break down right there in the street, in front of all his family.
For weeks there’s been nothing apart from the odd late-night phone call where Jared slurs his words like he’s been drinking and Jensen’s so worn out that it’s a struggle to form a sentence. Jensen had quickly buried himself in the easy routine of college life, finding it easier to cope with the separation if he occupied his mind with constant distractions. Over the months which have gone by he’s scarcely had time to blink let alone pine. Nevertheless he isn’t happy and however much he tries to change that, it still comes down to the fact that he misses Jared like oxygen.
But Megan’s voice brings reality crashing back down around his ears. “Jeff rang and when I told him about how bad things have been with Papa’s drinking, he asked to speak to him. He threatened Papa. Jeff said he was going to take me and Jared, have us move in with him but I know there isn’t enough room not now he has Lauren and the baby in that tiny house. Papa lost it, started screaming down the phone and Jared was trying to make him calm down but....”
“But what, Meggy?”
“Papa punched him and I think...I think Jared hit his head when he fell. Papa stormed out and I helped Jared into his bed but now he won’t wake up. I just want him to wake up.” Megan breaks down into snuffling sobs again and Jensen realizes that he’s clutching the phone so tightly his hand hurts and his knuckles are blanched white.
He blinks back hot tears, staring numbly around his small room. His eyes focus on a photograph tacked to the wall by his bed. Him and Jared messing around, laughing, arms around each-other’s shoulders like they belong there. “Fuck.” Jensen mutters quietly, his head pounds and his stomach muscles cramp as he tastes sour bile working its way up the back of his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment, hugs the phone against his chest, then a terrible cold fear prickles up his spine. “Meg, is he breathing? Hey, hey, stop crying! Is Jared breathing alright?”
Megan whimpers at the sound of Jensen’s blunt tone but she disappears from the line and returns seconds later. “Yeah but it sounds like he’s gasping, like he can’t get enough air. I’m scared..., I’m so scared please come home, Jensen. Please, please, please...I don’t know what to do. There’s blood and I don’t know what to do.”
Jensen wants to lose it, half of him thinks he’s going to but at the forefront of his panicking brain he knows he’s powerless to actually do anything. He’s so far away and he curses the distance. He forces himself to sound calm, a calmness he doesn’t feel. “Meggy. Listen to me carefully, okay? Where’s your mom?”
“It’s Friday, mom’s at the Bingo Hall,” Megan’s still weeping loudly, her heavy breathing shuddering down the line.
“You’re not going to be able to help Jared unless you calm the fuck down. Now, hang up the phone and call an ambulance. Do it straight away, then call Jeff and get him to meet you at the hospital. If you can’t get hold of Jeff, go to my folks or Mr. Odell the janitor.”
“Jensen?” Megan says anxiously. All but begging for reassurance, for someone-anyone-to come and take control of the situation. Jensen doesn’t need the reminder that she’s miles away, all alone in the apartment with her hurt brother and Jesus Christ, only thirteen-years-old.
“You can do it, Meg. I’m going to be there as soon as I can,” Jensen says, solid and authoritative.
He’s shaking like a leaf as Megan disconnects the call.
~0~
Click here to continue to part 2>>>
.