TKO, 6/8, R, J2
Title: TKO
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: Overall R, This part PG-13
Word Count: 6100+/-
Summary Jensen is an ex-con with a clean slate. Jared owns an MMA gym. They like each other, a lot.
A/N: This fic is complete in eight parts. I will post on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
This story contains D/s themes but is in no way a porn fic.
TKO One ~ TKO Two ~ TKO Three ~ TKO Four ~ TKO Five ~ TKO Six ~ TKO Seven ~ TKO Eight
Thanks to: passing_through for the beta work. Even when you didn’t get it, you were there for the story. Thank you darlin’
Graphics by: Raeschae She made the whole thing better by pulling it all together with her graphics.
TKO
Round Six
Jensen was dressed. He’d checked the address and mapped the bus route three times in the last hour. He’d written the bus changes on the back of the paper with the address. He locked up and left. It was like he could feel the city’s absence of Jared when he stepped outside. Jensen knew he was less than an hour away with his parents at his brother’s, but it still felt like he may as well be on the moon.
He missed the transfer at the second bus and had to retrace his steps. Everyone seemed to have food with them on the bus, pies and bakery boxes. He wondered if he was supposed to bring something to Lizzie.
At the next stop there was a man selling flowers. He bought a bunch of yellow and orange ones. He didn’t see many people on the bus with flowers and considered throwing them out.
When he found Lizzie’s house he was surprised by how nice it was, but then, Lizzie was nice, and she deserved the bungalow with the picket fence and the front porch. He knocked lightly on the door. Lizzie greeted him.
“Jensen, come in.”
He ducked his head.
“Are those for me?”
“Um, yeah, if they’re stupid…”
“Flowers are never stupid. Thank you. Where’s your coat?”
“Um…”
“You came here in a hoody and that’s it?”
“I, um…”
“Liz, stop mothering the man, he’s an adult.” A man with a wide smile and full mustache shook his hand.
“I’m Arthur, Lizzie’s lesser half. I’m guessing by the way she’s nagging that you’d be Jensen.”
Jensen nodded and shook Arthur’s hand.
“That’s quite a grip you got there.”
Lizzie sighed. “I told you, he works out every day, and works the door for Benny, what were you expecting Art?”
Art led Jensen away. “Why don’t I get you a beer and we can go back to the game. Just a college bowl game at the moment, but it’ll do.”
Jensen nodded again, looking over his shoulder at Lizzie who smiled at him.
He drank his beer slowly, and before he finished it four kids came clamoring downstairs to answer the door.
“Be nice to your uncle!” he heard Lizzie call from the kitchen.
Benny came into the living room trailed by four kids, all yelling “Uncle Benny, Uncle Benny!” He crouched down to their level and paid solemn attention to what each had to say, which clearly disconcerted them a little, and then gave them each a five dollar bill with a wink to not tell Mommy or Daddy, a clear joke as Art, their Daddy, was sitting on the couch and Lizzie, their mother, was wiping her hands on her apron and then hugging her brother. “You’re late.”
“Did I miss the turkey?”
“No, Bobbi’s still in Cabo with him.”
They both laughed.
Jensen followed Lizzie into the kitchen, “can I help?”
“Jensen, I’ve got it covered. You go enjoy the game.”
“But...”
Lizzie shooed him out of the kitchen and directed him to the sofa.
“Hey Jensen, how’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Wow, you two always like this with the witty banter?”
Benny glared at him. “Jensen's not much of a talker, but he can kick your ass.”
Jensen panicked. “I won’t though. I only do that for work.”
Art laughed. “I didn’t think you would, you’re as scared of Lizzie as the rest of us.”
“Who’s scared of me?”
Lizzie was putting a bowl of something that smelled wonderful on the table.
“No one, dear. Now, when’s that bird gonna show its head?”
“I told Benny already, he’s in Cabo.”
Art laughed and followed her into the kitchen where there was a yelp and a laugh and Benny shook his head. “Those two, married fifteen years, still act like newlyweds.”
“S’nice.” Jensen said peeling the label of his still mostly full beer.
They watched the game, and Jensen somehow ended up on the floor reading to the kids. Lizzie’s son sat on his leg, her daughter sat with her legs crossed till her knees were touching him. The other two sat right in front and he read to them from some book about a bear, in a raincoat, in England, but whatever, they liked it so much they groaned when Lizzie called everyone to the table.
She had seated Jensen directly to her left as she was at the end of the table. The kids were at their father’s right, and Bobbi’s kids at Benny’s right, directly across from her. Benny was at the foot of the table, mocking Arthur.
Jensen kept his head down, trying not to make a fool of himself. He knew his table manners were probably terrible and that this was a family occasion he was lucky just to be a part of from the outside.
Lizzie put a hand on his, speaking softly into his ear, “Jensen. It’s okay to make eye contact. As it is, I think Janie has something she wants to ask you.”
He looked up.
“Are you married?”
Jensen shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
Jensen got flustered, “I don’t like girls” seemed wrong, as did “I’m gay” or “I’m stupid and an ex con.”
He shrugged. “Your mom’s already taken.” He remembered his dad using something like that once.
She tilted her head. “My mom’s too old for you.”
“JANIE!” Came from three different adults.
Jensen pushed a roll into his mouth so he didn’t have to answer.
Janie didn’t seem fazed. “Well, you are.” Then she added, “I’m not though.”
Benny laughed. “You’re a little bit young though, huh, kid? How ‘bout once you’re old enough to get in the door at the restaurant, you give it another shot.”
“But that’s forever from now!”
Jensen stared down at his plate again. The food was better than anything he’d had in a long time. The turkey wasn’t dry, the gravy wasn’t salty, the sweet potatoes didn’t have that cloying corn syrup taste that they had at Shoney’s. He continued to categorize the food and why it was good, ignoring the commotion around him 'til he startled at the feel of Lizzie’s hand on his wrist.
“Thank you.” She said it quietly, everyone else intent on their own conversations.
He felt his eyes pull together in confusion. “For what?”
“For coming. I know you’re not comfortable, but can I help?”
“I’m comfortable.”
“Jensen, you’re mumbling into your plate. Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Guess I’m not used to so many people, so much noise, unless I’m on the bus, or you know, waiting for my PO.”
She smiled and he knew that smile; it was the kind one he used to get in school when teachers first found out his mother was dead. He shook his head.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
“Okay then.” But she kept her hand on his wrist a little longer as she gracefully steered the topic away from inappropriate star behavior and who’d married someone much too young for them and on to the new movie being made based on Ender’s Game, which apparently all of the kids had read, including the 8 year old.
By the time they were having pie and ice cream Jensen was a little more comfortable, taking the ribbing for having even read Jane Austen. "Lizzie didn’t tell me it was a girl book.”
“Books don’t have genders.” Lizzie said almost primly, and then laughed. She looked directly at Jensen. “I wanted to see if someone who loved reading, and likes so many books I liked, and was a man, would like Jane Austen if he came to it with no foregone conclusions.”
Jensen wondered if Lizzie had factored him being a faggot into that but couldn’t ask now. He kept it light. “Well, with no foregone, um… without any of that… it was still boring, and confusing. I can read British English; I don’t know what that was.”
“It was pretension and girly fantasies, is what it was” Arthur chimed in.
“I love Jane Austen,” Janie pouted.
“Then you’ll keep them on your own bookshelf once we’re married.” Jensen said and everyone laughed as Janie blushed, but not unhappily.
It was late in the afternoon and time to go. Jensen had a full bag of leftovers packed tightly into disposable plastic containers. Jensen pulled on his hoody and Lizzie called out “wait” and ran upstairs.
She came down and handed Jensen a lined flannel shirt with a hood.
“Lizzie!” from Arthur.
“Oh hush, you just bought a brand new one, and he’ll freeze going out like this in nothing but a sweatshirt.”
“It’s got a lining.” Jensen pointed out, as his navy hoody did in fact have a thermal lining; he’d picked it up after Lizzie had yelled at him last time.
“But that’s not enough for November, and we’re coming on December. Dammit Benny, can’t you pay this kid enough to buy a coat.”
“Don’t, Lizzie.” Jensen said his voice low with desperation. “Please.”
Jensen shook Arthur’s hand, and Benny's. He pecked Janie’s cheek, and she fled upstairs, bright red and giggling
When he turned towards the door, Lizzie ushered him onto the front porch and then pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you came. Now, put this on.” She held the flannel shirt out to him again.
Jensen did and it was comfortable and warm and the second hood would probably ease that bitter painful cold he felt on his ears sometimes. “I’ll bring it back to the library on Monday” he promised.
“You keep yourself warm and safe and you don’t owe me anything” Lizzie said, patting Jensen's thrice clad chest. “Now go before I make you sleep here just so I can make sure you eat a good breakfast.”
“Thank you, Lizzie.”
She kissed him on the cheek and he left, following the road until he got to a bus stop.
On Saturday Jensen sparred with Jared unsuccessfully. Even after almost an hour beating the shit out of punching bags and wearing himself out, he still felt uncomfortable in his own skin and was scared that the next move he made would be the one where he lost control.
Eventually they gave up and went back to Jared's. He showered quickly and didn’t even bother getting dressed, just held out his arm, his head down. When Jared cinched the band hard to buckle it Jensen felt his body relax. The tension in his shoulders and his back released and for the first time since Lizzie’s; he thought maybe he wouldn’t have to just start running and never stop. Forget his PO and just leave the state. For the first time since Thanksgiving he had something to be thankful for.
Jared pulled him forward onto the bed until he was on his knees, his legs on either side of Jared's hips. Jared, fully clothed, running his hands down Jensen's arms, up his back and then down again, over and over, big hands covering him. Releasing his tension with their warm, competent touch.
“Missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
Jensen knew Jared was lying, but didn’t want to call him on it. Just wanted, for this moment, to believe that Jared had missed him.
He followed Jared's lead as he was positioned on the bed. He knew he shouldn’t like this. Should be the man his father had wanted him to be. A man who was strong, not simply muscle that does what it’s told, but he was trying to accept what he was, and this, this felt good, and he wanted it and he’d foregone so much of what he wanted because he knew he couldn’t have it, didn’t even deserve it, but this. He wanted this like he’s wanted nothing else.
Jared kissed his eyes and nose and lips, tongued spots that drove him crazy and whispered words of want and need, but also words of love and affirmation and those Jensen tried to hear, tried to believe, if just for today.
When he did leave, after Jared took off the band and squeezed the watch strap to remind him that Jared was there for him, no matter what, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards the restaurant. He was an hour early but that was okay. He didn’t know if he could be alone right then. His thoughts were bothering him and he needed to distract himself.
He ate the free meal, (fettuccini in a vodka sauce), talked to Amy, the newest server, and then moved to sit at the door checking ID’s, which is easy now that they have hologram seals and they say “under 21 until” on them.
When the night was over and the restaurant doors were locked he headed out the back. Amy was arguing with someone and he stopped when he heard her yell for him. He realized she wasn’t asking him to stop. The guy she was arguing with had her pinned against the car.
He didn’t think about it. When he looked up Amy was breathing hard and seemed frightened and…oh god, blood on his hand, the guy was knocked out. His body sprawled and pinned to the ground by Jensen's knee. He stood up, tried to say something, but couldn’t think of a damn thing. He ran.
Jared couldn’t find Jensen on Sunday. He wasn’t answering his phone. Lizzie wasn’t working at the library; no one remembered seeing him there that day. Benny shrugged it off. Sure, he knocked someone out, but he’s a bouncer, it’s his job and this guy was threatening Amy, who Jensen’s always nice to, besides, Jensen wasn’t expected in until six.
Jared stopped dead in his tracks. He was on the way to his car and he stood in the windy cold. “He knocked someone out?”
“Yeah, Amy’s ex, she had a restraining order, but she was better off having Jensen. She says he took the guy down like it was automatic, and then he left.”
“Left or ran like a bat out of hell?”
“Didn’t ask, but he made employee of the month with that trick, I’ll tell you that much.”
Jared hung up, but he called Benny at six from his car. He was driving slowly along the route he knew Jensen took to get home. He’d already been up to knock on Jensen's door five separate times. He’d driven by his own place half a dozen and called Bowie, instructing him to notify him the moment Jensen showed up at the gym. Nothing.
Benny got worried when Jensen didn’t show and Jared was a wreck. He did something he never thought he’d have to do. He checked hospitals and morgues, or tried to, but they wouldn’t release any information.
Benny said there were no charges being pressed. They guy was too scared about having violated the restraining order to push it. Jensen, Jared was sure, didn’t know that.
He found Jensen, finally, crouched in front of Jared's own place, sitting against the wall, his face red from the cold, his teeth chattering, his lips blue and his hands shoved in his pockets. Jared was hit with a rolling wave of relief and he clung to that as anger and worry warred in his head over which would get expressed first.
Jared extended a hand to help him stand and Jensen took it without ever lifting his head to make eye contact. He hauled him up and was surprised by how much effort it took.
Jared unlocked the door and Jensen followed him, head down like a chastised puppy. Jared's desire to yell at him dissipated. All he was left with was the overwhelming need to take care of him. He started by peeling off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, which were damp, probably with sweat. So, great, it was almost freezing out and Jensen had been running, and Jared has no doubt it’s been almost nonstop for 18 hours now, running, walking, hiding, in nothing but black jeans, a t-shirt and hoody.
He replaced all of it with a pair of flannel lounge pants, a t-shirt, a thermal shirt and a clean dry hoody of his. It didn’t help the protective instinct because it meant Jensen was swallowed by his clothes and looked about four years old. His teeth were still chattering but his skin wasn’t blue or too cold to the touch. There was no longer a health danger.
Jared made two mugs of hot chocolate and brought the blanket from the bed over to the couch. They hadn’t said a word and Jared was fine with that for the moment.
When Jensen's back was leaning against Jared's chest, and they were both swaddled by the blanket, Jensen also by Jared's arms, and sipping hot chocolate, Jared pulled the wristband out of his pocket. “Do you need this?”
Jensen made a small choked off noise and almost spilled the chocolate in his rush to get his arm free for Jared.
Jared buckled it on and felt Jensen relax a little.
“So what happened?”
Jensen ducked his head against his own shoulder and Jared tightened his hold on Jensen's waist, afraid he might try to take off. “Tell me.”
“I fucked up. Again.”
“Jensen. Is this about the fight at Benny's or did something else happen?”
“Something else? I violated my parole. I’m going back to prison.” There was a break in his voice and Jared wanted to scream.
“No, no, you’re not. Do you know who you hit?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. That was Amy’s ex. She had a restraining order.”
“Didn’t give me the right to hurt him.”
“He was breaking the law and hurting her.”
“So we’ll both get locked up.”
“No, you won’t. He has to press charges, Jensen. He won’t. He does and he’s in a shit load of trouble too. You’re safe.”
Jensen made that broken choked sound again and Jared sighed. “Safe.”
“But I have to have a job.”
“You do. You think Benny's gonna fire you for keeping Amy safe? You think anyone thinks you’re anything but a hero?”
“Yeah, some hero.”
“Jensen. The only thing you fucked up was running away. And I’m glad you came here.”
“Came to say goodbye.”
“What?”
“Was gonna leave the city, leave the state, but I got so tired. Just sat down, I had to.”
“Because you were developing a case of hypothermia. That’s not taking care of yourself.”
He felt Jensen shrug against him and wanted to scream. He wrapped his arms tighter around him instead. “Doesn’t matter right now if you care. I do. You take care of yourself. You don’t wander around in almost freezing temperatures with no coat for this long, you don’t run away. If you were so scared, why didn’t you come to me?”
“I don’t know. I panicked. I… I blacked out when I fought him; don’t remember anything except him on the ground, and blood. Did I… is he…”
“Dead?”
Jensen flinched and Jared wondered. Later. “He’s not dead, or even severely injured. Amy says you slammed him against the car, punched him twice, blocking him from hurting you, then he hit you in the chest, you hit his jaw and once he was down, his lip bloody, he was out cold. You looked up at her and ran.”
“I remember that.”
“Yeah, so he’s not dead. He’s not in the hospital. He’s just got a split lip, and a few bruises, which is less than he deserves.”
“Is Amy okay?”
“Yeah, thanks to you she’s fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Jensen shrugged again. His mug was empty. Jared moved them both to the bed and waited until Jensen was completely asleep to slide away and call Benny. Benny would tell Lizzie and they could stop worrying. Jared was far from done worrying though.
Jensen woke up sweating and tangled in the sheets, and his pants, no, not his, Jared's, and as it all flooded back he tried to stand up, but felt dizzy the moment he did.
Jared gently untangled him and then ran a soothing hand over his forehead. “Think you got a fever.”
“M’fine.”
“Yeah, you’d say that with pneumonia and two broken legs.”
“’M not sick,” Jensen swore although his eyeballs might be hotter than usual and there was a possibility that he was sweating and shivering at the same time.
“You arguing with me?” Jared raised an eyebrow, his glance gliding over Jensen's hands and wrists and Jensen sighed.
“Not arguing.”
“Okay then, try to drink this. We may have to get you to the doctor if your fever gets higher.”
“No doctor. Please.”
“We’ll wait, but you’ve gotta follow orders.”
“Kay.”
“Good.”
Jared handed him a mug of soup, and used one of those annoying ear temperature things. “102.5. High, but not bad. You allergic to meds?”
“Don’t think so.”
Jensen handed him two aspirin. “Now, just sit, we don’t have to talk about anything. Okay? Not while your fever’s so high.”
“Kay.”
Jared nodded. “I have to go to the gym. Here’s your phone. Call me if you need anything. Lizzie said she’ll stop by after her shift to bring you some books.”
“But…”
“Shhh… you’re sick and people are going to take care of you and that’s not negotiable. Understand?”
Jensen nodded because he hurt too much to argue.
A few hours later, after a second dose of aspirin and a cup of some sort of flu remedy that burned his throat, but did relieve the symptoms, Jensen was a little more focused.
“Did you say Lizzie was coming here?”
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“It’s Saturday, right?”
“Sunday, just after two in the afternoon.”
“Lizzie doesn’t work on Sundays.”
“She visits friends on Sundays. We were all worried about you.”
“All?”
“Lizzie, me, Benny. People care what happens to you, Jensen.”
Jensen tried to process that and couldn’t. “They shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? Who convinced you that you’re not worth it?”
“No one, I mean, everyone. It’s just… look at me. I’m…”
Jared waited and Jensen stared at him, trying to find the words. “I’m kinda useless.”
“No. You’re not. And I really wanna know who told you that you were.”
“No one had to tell me. Look at me. I can’t make a decision. I can’t keep people safe.” Jensen's head started spinning. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was sick, or getting too close to the truth.
“My sister shouldn’t have died. It should have been me. My family would have been okay if she’d been around. She wouldn’t have fucked up. She… my dad wouldn’t be dead.”
“I thought your dad was sick for years.”
“He was, but because my mom died, and she died because she couldn’t fight, didn’t want to fight, wanted to be with Jilly. And when my dad… when he was sick, he got real sick, and we couldn’t afford all the bills, all the pills, but I tried, and I failed. I went out, just to get some stuff he needed and when I got back… he was gone. I didn’t know what to do, who to call.
“The morgue? 911? The police? So I just held his hand. I held his hand and he just lay there, not moving, getting colder. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t call anyone.” Jensen swiped his fingers over his eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. “Don’t like me Jared. You shouldn’t. I’m…”
Jared's hands were on his shoulder. “Now you listen to me. That’s a horrible story, but not for the reason that you think. That was too much, too much for anyone. You lose your sister, and they tell you, let you believe that it should have been you? That if you could have saved her from a random accident the whole world would be candy canes and lollipops. Fuck that. You are strong and amazing and you did your best, with your mom and your dad.
“Sitting with your dad? Guess what, that’s normal too. You’re not a freak, Jensen. You’re just not.”
Jensen shook his head, but Jared actually shook him by the shoulders. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re not a freak.”
“I…”
Jared’s hand slid down to the wrist band and Jensen stared at the floor. “I’m not a freak.” He didn’t believe it. He felt the need to qualify it a thousand different ways, but he let it sit there. A big lie just sitting there and haunting him.
“Okay, I know you don’t believe it, but you’re not a freak. You’re not. Why don’t you go take a shower before Lizzie gets here? It’s been a few days and you’re a little ripe.”
Jensen nodded, walked away, relieved that Jared might let the whole freak thing go.
Relieved until Jared followed him. He hated public showers. Hated them in high school, and then there was the special hell of prison showers, but now, Jared was here and Jensen tensed up.
Jared didn’t touch him, just told him, in almost a whisper. “You’re dizzy. I won’t touch you. I’m going to sit all the way over here and just make sure you don’t pass out.”
“But… you can have me if you want me.”
Jared tilted his head. “I can have you if you want me. I’d never take advantage.”
Jensen wasn’t sure never was accurate, but he nodded and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good, his sinuses opening up further and when he was wrapped in a towel again Jared approached him slowly, helping to dry him off.
It was weird and intimate in a way that sex wasn’t. Jared left a pile of clothes on the counter. Pretty much the same thing he’d been wearing before. Sweat pants, thermal shirt, hoody and socks.
They were sitting on the couch, Jared drinking a beer, Jensen tea with honey, when there was a hesitant knock on the door.
Jared slid out from behind Jensen and pulled the door open, it was Lizzie.
“Hi, please, come in.”
Jensen sat up, straightening his clothes a little, trying to look a little less like he was wearing his boyfriend’s pajamas.
“Lizzie.”
“Jensen, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he shrugged.
She put a couple of books on the coffee table and then the back of her hand against Jensen's forehead. “Not too much of a fever. You disappearing like that gave us all a scare, you know.”
“I didn’t…” but Jensen stopped. His plan had been to disappear, and only his inability to decide where to go had kept him around. He nodded. “Sorry.”
“Well, you should be. Here” She held out a grocery bag. “I got you some soup, and crackers, and bananas.”
Jared was doing that half smile twitch thing that meant he wanted to say something, probably about both of them being adults and Jared having food, but instead he took the bag and thanked her. “Would you like some coffee, or tea?”
“No, I’ve gotta go pick up Janie at Ballet.”
“You should bring them to our jujitsu kid’s class. They’d have a blast.”
She tilted her head, as if considering Jared for the first time. “You have a kid’s class?”
“And a women’s self defense class. It’s not all just men beating the crap out of each other.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll consider it.”
“Thanks, and thanks again for the soup and supplies. He’s a belligerent patient.”
“I’m standing right here.”
“You’re a belligerent patient.”
Lizzie took a step forward and hugged Jensen, “take care of yourself and let me know how you like the books.”
Jared saw her out.
“So, what’d she bring you to read?”
Jensen picked them up. “A People’s History of the United States, and The Killing Cards. It’s a detective novel.”
“Cool.”
“I guess. I’m feeling better, so…” Jensen gestured toward the door.
“No, you’re not. The medicine is working, but you’re shivering and you still have a fever. If you need something from your place, let me know, we can go get it, but you’re not just sitting at your kitchen table reading a book while you sweat out the flu.”
Jensen sighed, knowing he would argue it harder, but he was just relieved Jared was still willing to have him here. He wanted to be here.
He was flipping idly through the first book when Jared wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.
“Can you tell me something?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why do you think I’m just putting up with you? Why are you so sure you’re going to lose your mind and kill someone? Where did these massively off the mark ideas come from and how are they so deeply entrenched?”
Jensen looked up at him, shook his head and tried to squirm free. Jared wouldn’t let him.
Jensen sighed. “No one I like ever likes me.”
“So, you like me.”
“Yes.”
“And you assume I don’t like you.”
“Not after the shit I’ve put you through.”
Jared pushed him away just enough so they could make eye contact. “I like you. I’ve liked you since you almost over extended my elbow that first day, when your raw talent and instinct made up for your amateur training.”
Jensen stared at the floor.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“Really, but… if you like me, and I like you… then someone’s gonna get hurt.”
“That is the risk.”
“So, you… want me to be here? Even if I’m in trouble you want me to be here.”
“Yes. I want you to be here.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll try to remember that. It’s hard. No one’s ever wanted me to be around before.”
Jared tightened his hold on Jensen for a minute, just feeling him breathing against his chest. “I’m going to heat up that soup for you.”
“I don’t think I’m hungry.”
“I do.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Jared poured the soup into a pot and let warm up while he considered where they were. Jensen might actually be getting the idea through his thick, really thick skull that Jared likes him, wants him around, and cares what happens to him. It was a start, but really, just a start. He didn’t know how far he could push today, or if he was taking advantage of the cold medication, but he knew that he liked a Jensen who was willing to accept compliments, praise and positive feedback. He really appreciated a Jensen who didn’t flinch all the time as though he was waiting to be kicked back out on the street.
He poured the soup into a bowl and decided that for now; maybe they’d just watch TV.
Two days later Jared was thinking Jensen might be well enough to return home soon. His fever was down, even without the medication, his aches and pains and scratchy throat were gone and most importantly, he was comfortable in Jared's house, with Jared's kindness. He seemed to actually get that he was worthwhile.
He’d finished the crime novel and was more than halfway through The People’s History of the United States. The fact that he’d read so much wasn’t worrisome in itself. It wasn’t as if they’d done more than cuddling and kissing, what with Jensen's illness, but it was a cause for concern because Jared was getting a real idea of just how little Jensen slept.
He’d always assumed that Jensen was exaggerating, or like many, thinking he’d gotten less sleep than he had, but Jensen seemed to sleep for three to four solid hours per night. He might catch another hour or two at the table with a book, or on the couch, with the TV on, but if he got five hours a day, he was lucky, and even then, the hours were chaotic, no particular rhythm.
Jared didn’t know what to do about this, or if he should worry, although, he kind of couldn’t help worrying and even Jensen mentioned that it had started in prison.
That was the other thing this weekend had yielded. A much clearer and more heartbreaking idea of how Jensen had kept himself ‘safe’ in prison. Jared had assumed he’d used his body, either as muscle, or sexually, but it turns out he’d done both. Currying the favor of the head of a group of white men who made it their business to recruit new Caucasian inmates before the white supremacists got them. Jensen's tattoos had gotten him far and they’d liked the way he fought, but even with his raw skills, he couldn’t stave off the entire population in their various race related groups.
Jared watched Jensen sleep, running over the conversation in his head, feeling homicidal.
“You’re mine, you know, so if I say you have to eat the soup, you do.” It had been playful banter because Jensen was getting sick of soup and Jared wasn’t ready to try real food yet.
“Yours?”
“You know that.”
“Only yours? ”Jensen had been worrying his lip, his back against Jared’s chest, Jared holding the soup, and waiting for Jensen to eat some.
“Of course only mine.”
“But, if you needed me to help you.”
“Help me?”
“To lend me out? I’d do that for you. If you need me to.”
Jared sat up, putting the soup aside. “Lend you out? Like a book or a power tool?”
More of a flinch than a shrug. “Yeah.”
And that’s how the story started. It ended with Jared wanting to kill a man who was already in prison for life, who’d lent Jensen out like a bartering chip, letting them use him, sometimes giving specific instructions (mouth only), sometimes not. Jensen preferred instructions; none usually meant several men, and a long session with a lot of pain and healing afterwards.
Jared took another deep breath. Jensen wasn’t going home tonight. No way was he going to sleep tonight thinking of Jensen alone in that grungy and sad apartment.
The worst part was, as sure as he was that it was terrible, he wasn’t sure at all that Jensen hadn’t done the smartest thing. He came out with only a scar on the inside of his thigh, a brand mark that blended with his tattoo, but he didn’t die, he didn’t get beat up all the time, he was protected and Jensen didn’t consider it rape, so…
Jared still wanted to kill the motherfucker.
“So I should go home.”
“Maybe you should stay one more day, in case your fever comes back.”
“Jared, I have to work tonight. I missed most of last week.”
“Okay, yeah, just… call me when your shift is over, when you get home.”
“Why?”
“To check in. To let me know you’re okay.”
“You know I’m not some little girl who can’t take care of herself, right?”
“Yeah, I know, I just… I worry.”
“Like a mother, like one of those mothers who smothers her kids in pads and helmets before she lets them ride a bike.”
“Yep, that’s me, someone who cares and doesn’t want you to die.”
“Stop.”
“Stop not wanting you to die?”
“Stop making it seem stupid that I think I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, okay, so, Ronnie’s birthday is on Monday, and we’re all taking her out for drinks. I’d really like you to come.”
“I don’t know Jared, it’s not exactly…”
“You work at a bar.”
“If you want me to kick people out of her party I can, but to talk to them? I’m not so sure.”
“It’s just gonna be Ronnie and this guy she’s seeing, Bowie and his girlfriend, and you and me.”
“A couple’s thing?”
“Huh, yeah, I guess.”
“Let me think about it?”
“Sure. Now let me drive you home before change my mind about how sick you are.”
“I’m cured, and I don’t need a ride.”
“You’re getting one.”
“You’re bossy.”
Jared smiled and kissed him. “You like that about me.”
“I do.”
It was another hour before they left.
NEXT
PREVIOUS
Hit Counter
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: Overall R, This part PG-13
Word Count: 6100+/-
Summary Jensen is an ex-con with a clean slate. Jared owns an MMA gym. They like each other, a lot.
A/N: This fic is complete in eight parts. I will post on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
This story contains D/s themes but is in no way a porn fic.
TKO One ~ TKO Two ~ TKO Three ~ TKO Four ~ TKO Five ~ TKO Six ~ TKO Seven ~ TKO Eight
Thanks to: passing_through for the beta work. Even when you didn’t get it, you were there for the story. Thank you darlin’
Graphics by: Raeschae She made the whole thing better by pulling it all together with her graphics.
TKO
Round Six
Jensen was dressed. He’d checked the address and mapped the bus route three times in the last hour. He’d written the bus changes on the back of the paper with the address. He locked up and left. It was like he could feel the city’s absence of Jared when he stepped outside. Jensen knew he was less than an hour away with his parents at his brother’s, but it still felt like he may as well be on the moon.
He missed the transfer at the second bus and had to retrace his steps. Everyone seemed to have food with them on the bus, pies and bakery boxes. He wondered if he was supposed to bring something to Lizzie.
At the next stop there was a man selling flowers. He bought a bunch of yellow and orange ones. He didn’t see many people on the bus with flowers and considered throwing them out.
When he found Lizzie’s house he was surprised by how nice it was, but then, Lizzie was nice, and she deserved the bungalow with the picket fence and the front porch. He knocked lightly on the door. Lizzie greeted him.
“Jensen, come in.”
He ducked his head.
“Are those for me?”
“Um, yeah, if they’re stupid…”
“Flowers are never stupid. Thank you. Where’s your coat?”
“Um…”
“You came here in a hoody and that’s it?”
“I, um…”
“Liz, stop mothering the man, he’s an adult.” A man with a wide smile and full mustache shook his hand.
“I’m Arthur, Lizzie’s lesser half. I’m guessing by the way she’s nagging that you’d be Jensen.”
Jensen nodded and shook Arthur’s hand.
“That’s quite a grip you got there.”
Lizzie sighed. “I told you, he works out every day, and works the door for Benny, what were you expecting Art?”
Art led Jensen away. “Why don’t I get you a beer and we can go back to the game. Just a college bowl game at the moment, but it’ll do.”
Jensen nodded again, looking over his shoulder at Lizzie who smiled at him.
He drank his beer slowly, and before he finished it four kids came clamoring downstairs to answer the door.
“Be nice to your uncle!” he heard Lizzie call from the kitchen.
Benny came into the living room trailed by four kids, all yelling “Uncle Benny, Uncle Benny!” He crouched down to their level and paid solemn attention to what each had to say, which clearly disconcerted them a little, and then gave them each a five dollar bill with a wink to not tell Mommy or Daddy, a clear joke as Art, their Daddy, was sitting on the couch and Lizzie, their mother, was wiping her hands on her apron and then hugging her brother. “You’re late.”
“Did I miss the turkey?”
“No, Bobbi’s still in Cabo with him.”
They both laughed.
Jensen followed Lizzie into the kitchen, “can I help?”
“Jensen, I’ve got it covered. You go enjoy the game.”
“But...”
Lizzie shooed him out of the kitchen and directed him to the sofa.
“Hey Jensen, how’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Wow, you two always like this with the witty banter?”
Benny glared at him. “Jensen's not much of a talker, but he can kick your ass.”
Jensen panicked. “I won’t though. I only do that for work.”
Art laughed. “I didn’t think you would, you’re as scared of Lizzie as the rest of us.”
“Who’s scared of me?”
Lizzie was putting a bowl of something that smelled wonderful on the table.
“No one, dear. Now, when’s that bird gonna show its head?”
“I told Benny already, he’s in Cabo.”
Art laughed and followed her into the kitchen where there was a yelp and a laugh and Benny shook his head. “Those two, married fifteen years, still act like newlyweds.”
“S’nice.” Jensen said peeling the label of his still mostly full beer.
They watched the game, and Jensen somehow ended up on the floor reading to the kids. Lizzie’s son sat on his leg, her daughter sat with her legs crossed till her knees were touching him. The other two sat right in front and he read to them from some book about a bear, in a raincoat, in England, but whatever, they liked it so much they groaned when Lizzie called everyone to the table.
She had seated Jensen directly to her left as she was at the end of the table. The kids were at their father’s right, and Bobbi’s kids at Benny’s right, directly across from her. Benny was at the foot of the table, mocking Arthur.
Jensen kept his head down, trying not to make a fool of himself. He knew his table manners were probably terrible and that this was a family occasion he was lucky just to be a part of from the outside.
Lizzie put a hand on his, speaking softly into his ear, “Jensen. It’s okay to make eye contact. As it is, I think Janie has something she wants to ask you.”
He looked up.
“Are you married?”
Jensen shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
Jensen got flustered, “I don’t like girls” seemed wrong, as did “I’m gay” or “I’m stupid and an ex con.”
He shrugged. “Your mom’s already taken.” He remembered his dad using something like that once.
She tilted her head. “My mom’s too old for you.”
“JANIE!” Came from three different adults.
Jensen pushed a roll into his mouth so he didn’t have to answer.
Janie didn’t seem fazed. “Well, you are.” Then she added, “I’m not though.”
Benny laughed. “You’re a little bit young though, huh, kid? How ‘bout once you’re old enough to get in the door at the restaurant, you give it another shot.”
“But that’s forever from now!”
Jensen stared down at his plate again. The food was better than anything he’d had in a long time. The turkey wasn’t dry, the gravy wasn’t salty, the sweet potatoes didn’t have that cloying corn syrup taste that they had at Shoney’s. He continued to categorize the food and why it was good, ignoring the commotion around him 'til he startled at the feel of Lizzie’s hand on his wrist.
“Thank you.” She said it quietly, everyone else intent on their own conversations.
He felt his eyes pull together in confusion. “For what?”
“For coming. I know you’re not comfortable, but can I help?”
“I’m comfortable.”
“Jensen, you’re mumbling into your plate. Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Guess I’m not used to so many people, so much noise, unless I’m on the bus, or you know, waiting for my PO.”
She smiled and he knew that smile; it was the kind one he used to get in school when teachers first found out his mother was dead. He shook his head.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
“Okay then.” But she kept her hand on his wrist a little longer as she gracefully steered the topic away from inappropriate star behavior and who’d married someone much too young for them and on to the new movie being made based on Ender’s Game, which apparently all of the kids had read, including the 8 year old.
By the time they were having pie and ice cream Jensen was a little more comfortable, taking the ribbing for having even read Jane Austen. "Lizzie didn’t tell me it was a girl book.”
“Books don’t have genders.” Lizzie said almost primly, and then laughed. She looked directly at Jensen. “I wanted to see if someone who loved reading, and likes so many books I liked, and was a man, would like Jane Austen if he came to it with no foregone conclusions.”
Jensen wondered if Lizzie had factored him being a faggot into that but couldn’t ask now. He kept it light. “Well, with no foregone, um… without any of that… it was still boring, and confusing. I can read British English; I don’t know what that was.”
“It was pretension and girly fantasies, is what it was” Arthur chimed in.
“I love Jane Austen,” Janie pouted.
“Then you’ll keep them on your own bookshelf once we’re married.” Jensen said and everyone laughed as Janie blushed, but not unhappily.
It was late in the afternoon and time to go. Jensen had a full bag of leftovers packed tightly into disposable plastic containers. Jensen pulled on his hoody and Lizzie called out “wait” and ran upstairs.
She came down and handed Jensen a lined flannel shirt with a hood.
“Lizzie!” from Arthur.
“Oh hush, you just bought a brand new one, and he’ll freeze going out like this in nothing but a sweatshirt.”
“It’s got a lining.” Jensen pointed out, as his navy hoody did in fact have a thermal lining; he’d picked it up after Lizzie had yelled at him last time.
“But that’s not enough for November, and we’re coming on December. Dammit Benny, can’t you pay this kid enough to buy a coat.”
“Don’t, Lizzie.” Jensen said his voice low with desperation. “Please.”
Jensen shook Arthur’s hand, and Benny's. He pecked Janie’s cheek, and she fled upstairs, bright red and giggling
When he turned towards the door, Lizzie ushered him onto the front porch and then pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you came. Now, put this on.” She held the flannel shirt out to him again.
Jensen did and it was comfortable and warm and the second hood would probably ease that bitter painful cold he felt on his ears sometimes. “I’ll bring it back to the library on Monday” he promised.
“You keep yourself warm and safe and you don’t owe me anything” Lizzie said, patting Jensen's thrice clad chest. “Now go before I make you sleep here just so I can make sure you eat a good breakfast.”
“Thank you, Lizzie.”
She kissed him on the cheek and he left, following the road until he got to a bus stop.
On Saturday Jensen sparred with Jared unsuccessfully. Even after almost an hour beating the shit out of punching bags and wearing himself out, he still felt uncomfortable in his own skin and was scared that the next move he made would be the one where he lost control.
Eventually they gave up and went back to Jared's. He showered quickly and didn’t even bother getting dressed, just held out his arm, his head down. When Jared cinched the band hard to buckle it Jensen felt his body relax. The tension in his shoulders and his back released and for the first time since Lizzie’s; he thought maybe he wouldn’t have to just start running and never stop. Forget his PO and just leave the state. For the first time since Thanksgiving he had something to be thankful for.
Jared pulled him forward onto the bed until he was on his knees, his legs on either side of Jared's hips. Jared, fully clothed, running his hands down Jensen's arms, up his back and then down again, over and over, big hands covering him. Releasing his tension with their warm, competent touch.
“Missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
Jensen knew Jared was lying, but didn’t want to call him on it. Just wanted, for this moment, to believe that Jared had missed him.
He followed Jared's lead as he was positioned on the bed. He knew he shouldn’t like this. Should be the man his father had wanted him to be. A man who was strong, not simply muscle that does what it’s told, but he was trying to accept what he was, and this, this felt good, and he wanted it and he’d foregone so much of what he wanted because he knew he couldn’t have it, didn’t even deserve it, but this. He wanted this like he’s wanted nothing else.
Jared kissed his eyes and nose and lips, tongued spots that drove him crazy and whispered words of want and need, but also words of love and affirmation and those Jensen tried to hear, tried to believe, if just for today.
When he did leave, after Jared took off the band and squeezed the watch strap to remind him that Jared was there for him, no matter what, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards the restaurant. He was an hour early but that was okay. He didn’t know if he could be alone right then. His thoughts were bothering him and he needed to distract himself.
He ate the free meal, (fettuccini in a vodka sauce), talked to Amy, the newest server, and then moved to sit at the door checking ID’s, which is easy now that they have hologram seals and they say “under 21 until” on them.
When the night was over and the restaurant doors were locked he headed out the back. Amy was arguing with someone and he stopped when he heard her yell for him. He realized she wasn’t asking him to stop. The guy she was arguing with had her pinned against the car.
He didn’t think about it. When he looked up Amy was breathing hard and seemed frightened and…oh god, blood on his hand, the guy was knocked out. His body sprawled and pinned to the ground by Jensen's knee. He stood up, tried to say something, but couldn’t think of a damn thing. He ran.
Jared couldn’t find Jensen on Sunday. He wasn’t answering his phone. Lizzie wasn’t working at the library; no one remembered seeing him there that day. Benny shrugged it off. Sure, he knocked someone out, but he’s a bouncer, it’s his job and this guy was threatening Amy, who Jensen’s always nice to, besides, Jensen wasn’t expected in until six.
Jared stopped dead in his tracks. He was on the way to his car and he stood in the windy cold. “He knocked someone out?”
“Yeah, Amy’s ex, she had a restraining order, but she was better off having Jensen. She says he took the guy down like it was automatic, and then he left.”
“Left or ran like a bat out of hell?”
“Didn’t ask, but he made employee of the month with that trick, I’ll tell you that much.”
Jared hung up, but he called Benny at six from his car. He was driving slowly along the route he knew Jensen took to get home. He’d already been up to knock on Jensen's door five separate times. He’d driven by his own place half a dozen and called Bowie, instructing him to notify him the moment Jensen showed up at the gym. Nothing.
Benny got worried when Jensen didn’t show and Jared was a wreck. He did something he never thought he’d have to do. He checked hospitals and morgues, or tried to, but they wouldn’t release any information.
Benny said there were no charges being pressed. They guy was too scared about having violated the restraining order to push it. Jensen, Jared was sure, didn’t know that.
He found Jensen, finally, crouched in front of Jared's own place, sitting against the wall, his face red from the cold, his teeth chattering, his lips blue and his hands shoved in his pockets. Jared was hit with a rolling wave of relief and he clung to that as anger and worry warred in his head over which would get expressed first.
Jared extended a hand to help him stand and Jensen took it without ever lifting his head to make eye contact. He hauled him up and was surprised by how much effort it took.
Jared unlocked the door and Jensen followed him, head down like a chastised puppy. Jared's desire to yell at him dissipated. All he was left with was the overwhelming need to take care of him. He started by peeling off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, which were damp, probably with sweat. So, great, it was almost freezing out and Jensen had been running, and Jared has no doubt it’s been almost nonstop for 18 hours now, running, walking, hiding, in nothing but black jeans, a t-shirt and hoody.
He replaced all of it with a pair of flannel lounge pants, a t-shirt, a thermal shirt and a clean dry hoody of his. It didn’t help the protective instinct because it meant Jensen was swallowed by his clothes and looked about four years old. His teeth were still chattering but his skin wasn’t blue or too cold to the touch. There was no longer a health danger.
Jared made two mugs of hot chocolate and brought the blanket from the bed over to the couch. They hadn’t said a word and Jared was fine with that for the moment.
When Jensen's back was leaning against Jared's chest, and they were both swaddled by the blanket, Jensen also by Jared's arms, and sipping hot chocolate, Jared pulled the wristband out of his pocket. “Do you need this?”
Jensen made a small choked off noise and almost spilled the chocolate in his rush to get his arm free for Jared.
Jared buckled it on and felt Jensen relax a little.
“So what happened?”
Jensen ducked his head against his own shoulder and Jared tightened his hold on Jensen's waist, afraid he might try to take off. “Tell me.”
“I fucked up. Again.”
“Jensen. Is this about the fight at Benny's or did something else happen?”
“Something else? I violated my parole. I’m going back to prison.” There was a break in his voice and Jared wanted to scream.
“No, no, you’re not. Do you know who you hit?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. That was Amy’s ex. She had a restraining order.”
“Didn’t give me the right to hurt him.”
“He was breaking the law and hurting her.”
“So we’ll both get locked up.”
“No, you won’t. He has to press charges, Jensen. He won’t. He does and he’s in a shit load of trouble too. You’re safe.”
Jensen made that broken choked sound again and Jared sighed. “Safe.”
“But I have to have a job.”
“You do. You think Benny's gonna fire you for keeping Amy safe? You think anyone thinks you’re anything but a hero?”
“Yeah, some hero.”
“Jensen. The only thing you fucked up was running away. And I’m glad you came here.”
“Came to say goodbye.”
“What?”
“Was gonna leave the city, leave the state, but I got so tired. Just sat down, I had to.”
“Because you were developing a case of hypothermia. That’s not taking care of yourself.”
He felt Jensen shrug against him and wanted to scream. He wrapped his arms tighter around him instead. “Doesn’t matter right now if you care. I do. You take care of yourself. You don’t wander around in almost freezing temperatures with no coat for this long, you don’t run away. If you were so scared, why didn’t you come to me?”
“I don’t know. I panicked. I… I blacked out when I fought him; don’t remember anything except him on the ground, and blood. Did I… is he…”
“Dead?”
Jensen flinched and Jared wondered. Later. “He’s not dead, or even severely injured. Amy says you slammed him against the car, punched him twice, blocking him from hurting you, then he hit you in the chest, you hit his jaw and once he was down, his lip bloody, he was out cold. You looked up at her and ran.”
“I remember that.”
“Yeah, so he’s not dead. He’s not in the hospital. He’s just got a split lip, and a few bruises, which is less than he deserves.”
“Is Amy okay?”
“Yeah, thanks to you she’s fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Jensen shrugged again. His mug was empty. Jared moved them both to the bed and waited until Jensen was completely asleep to slide away and call Benny. Benny would tell Lizzie and they could stop worrying. Jared was far from done worrying though.
Jensen woke up sweating and tangled in the sheets, and his pants, no, not his, Jared's, and as it all flooded back he tried to stand up, but felt dizzy the moment he did.
Jared gently untangled him and then ran a soothing hand over his forehead. “Think you got a fever.”
“M’fine.”
“Yeah, you’d say that with pneumonia and two broken legs.”
“’M not sick,” Jensen swore although his eyeballs might be hotter than usual and there was a possibility that he was sweating and shivering at the same time.
“You arguing with me?” Jared raised an eyebrow, his glance gliding over Jensen's hands and wrists and Jensen sighed.
“Not arguing.”
“Okay then, try to drink this. We may have to get you to the doctor if your fever gets higher.”
“No doctor. Please.”
“We’ll wait, but you’ve gotta follow orders.”
“Kay.”
“Good.”
Jared handed him a mug of soup, and used one of those annoying ear temperature things. “102.5. High, but not bad. You allergic to meds?”
“Don’t think so.”
Jensen handed him two aspirin. “Now, just sit, we don’t have to talk about anything. Okay? Not while your fever’s so high.”
“Kay.”
Jared nodded. “I have to go to the gym. Here’s your phone. Call me if you need anything. Lizzie said she’ll stop by after her shift to bring you some books.”
“But…”
“Shhh… you’re sick and people are going to take care of you and that’s not negotiable. Understand?”
Jensen nodded because he hurt too much to argue.
A few hours later, after a second dose of aspirin and a cup of some sort of flu remedy that burned his throat, but did relieve the symptoms, Jensen was a little more focused.
“Did you say Lizzie was coming here?”
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“It’s Saturday, right?”
“Sunday, just after two in the afternoon.”
“Lizzie doesn’t work on Sundays.”
“She visits friends on Sundays. We were all worried about you.”
“All?”
“Lizzie, me, Benny. People care what happens to you, Jensen.”
Jensen tried to process that and couldn’t. “They shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? Who convinced you that you’re not worth it?”
“No one, I mean, everyone. It’s just… look at me. I’m…”
Jared waited and Jensen stared at him, trying to find the words. “I’m kinda useless.”
“No. You’re not. And I really wanna know who told you that you were.”
“No one had to tell me. Look at me. I can’t make a decision. I can’t keep people safe.” Jensen's head started spinning. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was sick, or getting too close to the truth.
“My sister shouldn’t have died. It should have been me. My family would have been okay if she’d been around. She wouldn’t have fucked up. She… my dad wouldn’t be dead.”
“I thought your dad was sick for years.”
“He was, but because my mom died, and she died because she couldn’t fight, didn’t want to fight, wanted to be with Jilly. And when my dad… when he was sick, he got real sick, and we couldn’t afford all the bills, all the pills, but I tried, and I failed. I went out, just to get some stuff he needed and when I got back… he was gone. I didn’t know what to do, who to call.
“The morgue? 911? The police? So I just held his hand. I held his hand and he just lay there, not moving, getting colder. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t call anyone.” Jensen swiped his fingers over his eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. “Don’t like me Jared. You shouldn’t. I’m…”
Jared's hands were on his shoulder. “Now you listen to me. That’s a horrible story, but not for the reason that you think. That was too much, too much for anyone. You lose your sister, and they tell you, let you believe that it should have been you? That if you could have saved her from a random accident the whole world would be candy canes and lollipops. Fuck that. You are strong and amazing and you did your best, with your mom and your dad.
“Sitting with your dad? Guess what, that’s normal too. You’re not a freak, Jensen. You’re just not.”
Jensen shook his head, but Jared actually shook him by the shoulders. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re not a freak.”
“I…”
Jared’s hand slid down to the wrist band and Jensen stared at the floor. “I’m not a freak.” He didn’t believe it. He felt the need to qualify it a thousand different ways, but he let it sit there. A big lie just sitting there and haunting him.
“Okay, I know you don’t believe it, but you’re not a freak. You’re not. Why don’t you go take a shower before Lizzie gets here? It’s been a few days and you’re a little ripe.”
Jensen nodded, walked away, relieved that Jared might let the whole freak thing go.
Relieved until Jared followed him. He hated public showers. Hated them in high school, and then there was the special hell of prison showers, but now, Jared was here and Jensen tensed up.
Jared didn’t touch him, just told him, in almost a whisper. “You’re dizzy. I won’t touch you. I’m going to sit all the way over here and just make sure you don’t pass out.”
“But… you can have me if you want me.”
Jared tilted his head. “I can have you if you want me. I’d never take advantage.”
Jensen wasn’t sure never was accurate, but he nodded and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good, his sinuses opening up further and when he was wrapped in a towel again Jared approached him slowly, helping to dry him off.
It was weird and intimate in a way that sex wasn’t. Jared left a pile of clothes on the counter. Pretty much the same thing he’d been wearing before. Sweat pants, thermal shirt, hoody and socks.
They were sitting on the couch, Jared drinking a beer, Jensen tea with honey, when there was a hesitant knock on the door.
Jared slid out from behind Jensen and pulled the door open, it was Lizzie.
“Hi, please, come in.”
Jensen sat up, straightening his clothes a little, trying to look a little less like he was wearing his boyfriend’s pajamas.
“Lizzie.”
“Jensen, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he shrugged.
She put a couple of books on the coffee table and then the back of her hand against Jensen's forehead. “Not too much of a fever. You disappearing like that gave us all a scare, you know.”
“I didn’t…” but Jensen stopped. His plan had been to disappear, and only his inability to decide where to go had kept him around. He nodded. “Sorry.”
“Well, you should be. Here” She held out a grocery bag. “I got you some soup, and crackers, and bananas.”
Jared was doing that half smile twitch thing that meant he wanted to say something, probably about both of them being adults and Jared having food, but instead he took the bag and thanked her. “Would you like some coffee, or tea?”
“No, I’ve gotta go pick up Janie at Ballet.”
“You should bring them to our jujitsu kid’s class. They’d have a blast.”
She tilted her head, as if considering Jared for the first time. “You have a kid’s class?”
“And a women’s self defense class. It’s not all just men beating the crap out of each other.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll consider it.”
“Thanks, and thanks again for the soup and supplies. He’s a belligerent patient.”
“I’m standing right here.”
“You’re a belligerent patient.”
Lizzie took a step forward and hugged Jensen, “take care of yourself and let me know how you like the books.”
Jared saw her out.
“So, what’d she bring you to read?”
Jensen picked them up. “A People’s History of the United States, and The Killing Cards. It’s a detective novel.”
“Cool.”
“I guess. I’m feeling better, so…” Jensen gestured toward the door.
“No, you’re not. The medicine is working, but you’re shivering and you still have a fever. If you need something from your place, let me know, we can go get it, but you’re not just sitting at your kitchen table reading a book while you sweat out the flu.”
Jensen sighed, knowing he would argue it harder, but he was just relieved Jared was still willing to have him here. He wanted to be here.
He was flipping idly through the first book when Jared wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.
“Can you tell me something?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why do you think I’m just putting up with you? Why are you so sure you’re going to lose your mind and kill someone? Where did these massively off the mark ideas come from and how are they so deeply entrenched?”
Jensen looked up at him, shook his head and tried to squirm free. Jared wouldn’t let him.
Jensen sighed. “No one I like ever likes me.”
“So, you like me.”
“Yes.”
“And you assume I don’t like you.”
“Not after the shit I’ve put you through.”
Jared pushed him away just enough so they could make eye contact. “I like you. I’ve liked you since you almost over extended my elbow that first day, when your raw talent and instinct made up for your amateur training.”
Jensen stared at the floor.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“Really, but… if you like me, and I like you… then someone’s gonna get hurt.”
“That is the risk.”
“So, you… want me to be here? Even if I’m in trouble you want me to be here.”
“Yes. I want you to be here.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll try to remember that. It’s hard. No one’s ever wanted me to be around before.”
Jared tightened his hold on Jensen for a minute, just feeling him breathing against his chest. “I’m going to heat up that soup for you.”
“I don’t think I’m hungry.”
“I do.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Jared poured the soup into a pot and let warm up while he considered where they were. Jensen might actually be getting the idea through his thick, really thick skull that Jared likes him, wants him around, and cares what happens to him. It was a start, but really, just a start. He didn’t know how far he could push today, or if he was taking advantage of the cold medication, but he knew that he liked a Jensen who was willing to accept compliments, praise and positive feedback. He really appreciated a Jensen who didn’t flinch all the time as though he was waiting to be kicked back out on the street.
He poured the soup into a bowl and decided that for now; maybe they’d just watch TV.
Two days later Jared was thinking Jensen might be well enough to return home soon. His fever was down, even without the medication, his aches and pains and scratchy throat were gone and most importantly, he was comfortable in Jared's house, with Jared's kindness. He seemed to actually get that he was worthwhile.
He’d finished the crime novel and was more than halfway through The People’s History of the United States. The fact that he’d read so much wasn’t worrisome in itself. It wasn’t as if they’d done more than cuddling and kissing, what with Jensen's illness, but it was a cause for concern because Jared was getting a real idea of just how little Jensen slept.
He’d always assumed that Jensen was exaggerating, or like many, thinking he’d gotten less sleep than he had, but Jensen seemed to sleep for three to four solid hours per night. He might catch another hour or two at the table with a book, or on the couch, with the TV on, but if he got five hours a day, he was lucky, and even then, the hours were chaotic, no particular rhythm.
Jared didn’t know what to do about this, or if he should worry, although, he kind of couldn’t help worrying and even Jensen mentioned that it had started in prison.
That was the other thing this weekend had yielded. A much clearer and more heartbreaking idea of how Jensen had kept himself ‘safe’ in prison. Jared had assumed he’d used his body, either as muscle, or sexually, but it turns out he’d done both. Currying the favor of the head of a group of white men who made it their business to recruit new Caucasian inmates before the white supremacists got them. Jensen's tattoos had gotten him far and they’d liked the way he fought, but even with his raw skills, he couldn’t stave off the entire population in their various race related groups.
Jared watched Jensen sleep, running over the conversation in his head, feeling homicidal.
“You’re mine, you know, so if I say you have to eat the soup, you do.” It had been playful banter because Jensen was getting sick of soup and Jared wasn’t ready to try real food yet.
“Yours?”
“You know that.”
“Only yours? ”Jensen had been worrying his lip, his back against Jared’s chest, Jared holding the soup, and waiting for Jensen to eat some.
“Of course only mine.”
“But, if you needed me to help you.”
“Help me?”
“To lend me out? I’d do that for you. If you need me to.”
Jared sat up, putting the soup aside. “Lend you out? Like a book or a power tool?”
More of a flinch than a shrug. “Yeah.”
And that’s how the story started. It ended with Jared wanting to kill a man who was already in prison for life, who’d lent Jensen out like a bartering chip, letting them use him, sometimes giving specific instructions (mouth only), sometimes not. Jensen preferred instructions; none usually meant several men, and a long session with a lot of pain and healing afterwards.
Jared took another deep breath. Jensen wasn’t going home tonight. No way was he going to sleep tonight thinking of Jensen alone in that grungy and sad apartment.
The worst part was, as sure as he was that it was terrible, he wasn’t sure at all that Jensen hadn’t done the smartest thing. He came out with only a scar on the inside of his thigh, a brand mark that blended with his tattoo, but he didn’t die, he didn’t get beat up all the time, he was protected and Jensen didn’t consider it rape, so…
Jared still wanted to kill the motherfucker.
“So I should go home.”
“Maybe you should stay one more day, in case your fever comes back.”
“Jared, I have to work tonight. I missed most of last week.”
“Okay, yeah, just… call me when your shift is over, when you get home.”
“Why?”
“To check in. To let me know you’re okay.”
“You know I’m not some little girl who can’t take care of herself, right?”
“Yeah, I know, I just… I worry.”
“Like a mother, like one of those mothers who smothers her kids in pads and helmets before she lets them ride a bike.”
“Yep, that’s me, someone who cares and doesn’t want you to die.”
“Stop.”
“Stop not wanting you to die?”
“Stop making it seem stupid that I think I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, okay, so, Ronnie’s birthday is on Monday, and we’re all taking her out for drinks. I’d really like you to come.”
“I don’t know Jared, it’s not exactly…”
“You work at a bar.”
“If you want me to kick people out of her party I can, but to talk to them? I’m not so sure.”
“It’s just gonna be Ronnie and this guy she’s seeing, Bowie and his girlfriend, and you and me.”
“A couple’s thing?”
“Huh, yeah, I guess.”
“Let me think about it?”
“Sure. Now let me drive you home before change my mind about how sick you are.”
“I’m cured, and I don’t need a ride.”
“You’re getting one.”
“You’re bossy.”
Jared smiled and kissed him. “You like that about me.”
“I do.”
It was another hour before they left.
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