be kind, unwind, 4/6
XXIII.
Jensen gets used to his new schedule pretty easily. His life’s not any less hectic ever since he started trying to unwind, though. In fact, he has a sneaky suspicion it’s even more busy, but it feels good. He still starts work early, gets in before everyone else and takes less coffee or lunch breaks, and he still works hard. Only he won’t work at all on Thursday nights, which is when he has his appointments with Jared, and leaves at six two times a week to get a work-out.
Going to the gym actually turns out to be a good move. He’s only been going for about three weeks, but he notices the difference already. He feels better, has more energy and his slacks don’t seem to be as tight as they used to be.
He’s not the only one who’s noticed. He can’t say for sure, but he thinks he’s seen Jared’s eyes sneak a look up and down his body when he’s undressing, lately. Nothing funny or anything, not like, checking him out or something. It’s only normal, probably, like he's checking out the competition he's got. Jensen does see Jared only once a week - the guy’s got a much better overview of how his body’s changing. And it’s not like it’s big changes or anything, but Jensen is pretty sure he’s laying the foundations for a six-pack like Jared’s.
And Jensen doesn’t mind. He can see that he looks better like this. Not that he had a problem with what he looked like before - he’s never really lacked any self-esteem, not really. Like, he knows that he’s an okay guy, he’s probably not the easiest person to be around all the time, but he wouldn’t consciously hurt anyone. He’s not mean if he can help it. And he knows that he’s not entirely bad-looking. He hasn’t always been fond of his freckles and he really would like to be just a little bit taller, but it’s not like he can do much about those things.
That said, it is easier to take his clothes off for a massage now, and it gets easier every time he notices how Jared’s hands rest on his arms or waist just half a second longer than they used to. Sometimes, Jared will even throw in these random comments about his body, that it looks awesome and that he has trouble believing Jensen doesn’t have a girl. It’s ridiculous to admit, but it makes him feel really proud and good. He feels a bit more wanted now.
Not by Jared. Just. In general.
And he wants more, too. He doesn’t think he ever saw Danneel as often when they were still a couple as he does now. It’s pretty much the same as it always was, when they’re together - still the same dance of his lips here and her hands there - but he can tell she takes her time now. She lets her hands get to know the places in between his sensitive spots, instead of just jumping from one to the other, and he can’t help but reciprocate. He can taste her again every time his lips touch her skin and he wants to now. He wants to take it slow like this, doesn’t want to stop until he can make her moan the way he did once without realizing what he’d done to cause it, doesn’t want to stop until he knows all the spots that make her do it.
If he’d done this when they were still together, maybe they’d have had a better shot. But every time the thought pops up, he realizes that he couldn’t be bothered back then - and even if he could, he’s pretty sure something else would have driven them apart. Like how much it annoys him that she’s such a fussy eater, or how angry she gets over random comments he makes without explaining what it is that sets her off, or how her complete lack of a system for doing laundry and his obsession with sorting by color, fabric and type of garment makes both their blood boil. He loves her, truly, but not as his partner, and he’s grateful that they can still have this without it becoming awkward. They’re better like this, and the sex is more intense - even better than it was in the beginning.
He sleeps less, has to get up earlier sometimes, because he and Danneel take much longer than fifteen minutes nowadays, but when he wakes up one morning and she’s got her hand draped over his chest and a smile on her face, he thinks it doesn’t really matter.
It’s the first time he notices how tanned she is, or how entirely pale he is, as he slips his fingers into hers. ‘Golden brown all the rage this season?’ he asks when he sees she’s looking at him.
‘It is unless you’re a natural redhead,’ she says with a sleepy smile. ‘You don’t like it?’
‘No, I do,’ Jensen says, still comparing his hand to hers, and he suddenly thinks of Jared’s hands - big, rough-soft because of the oils and lotions and dark-skinned. Manly. Powerful. He looks back to his own and sees sandy-yellow and green veins, a bit of black marker from the day before, bitten nails, paper cuts. ‘Just thinking I don’t look very fashionable, then.’
‘Oh, Jensen,’ she sighs as she turns away from him with her eyes closed, her hair flopping in his face. ‘It’s not like you care about these things.’
He grunts in agreement, but he keeps looking at his hands for a few more minutes before getting up.
XXIV.
One Thursday, he’s almost late meeting with Jared because he runs past a tanning center and has to shower afterward because he smells. Which is why he ends up on the table with his hair still dripping slightly.
They haven’t spoken a word yet, which has never happened before, but it’s not uncomfortable at all. Jensen’s still pretty out of breath from rushing into Sandover and Jared only gave him a long, hard look when he came in as he was unbuttoning his shirt, and seemed to instantly get that Jensen needed a few moments to recompose.
He’s face down, looking away from Jared, and he can feel tiny drops run over his scalp, close to his left ear, over his neck and down to his right shoulder. It makes him shiver. Jared’s massaging his arm, but suddenly, he lets go and Jensen doesn’t feel anything for a moment until there’s the featherlight, gentle press of a finger slowly working its way up the trail the droplet left.
The touch is so intimate and soft - as if Jared’s not even touching Jensen’s skin, only the tiny hairs the water’s made stand on end - and it’s nothing like what he’s felt before. It feels so good that it takes him completely by surprise. Jensen shivers again and gasps - it’s loud in the room that’s completely quiet save for their breathing.
It appears to snap Jared out of what he’s doing, because he lets up immediately and goes back to Jensen’s neglected arm as he clears his throat. Jensen wants to groan at the loss, but he manages to stop himself just in time.
‘Didn’t realize it was raining,’ Jared says, breaking the silence. His voice sounds rough, as if he’s coming down with a cold.
‘It’s not,’ Jensen says. ‘I just took a quick shower. Wanted to get rid of the office smell, you know?’
Which isn’t a complete lie.
‘Oh.’ Jared’s quiet for another moment before he says, ‘You know, I think I got another opening on Saturday, like at noon or something. You wouldn’t be able to make it?’
‘Another cancellation?’ Jensen asks, but he has to smile anyway. ‘Seems to me you’re losing your touch, buddy.’
‘Shut up,’ Jared says with a chuckle and cuffs him softly on the head. ‘You want it? Would be a waste to call someone in from the list if this is the only time I’ll be able to work on them.’
Jensen’s already going over his schedule in his head. Saturdays are still reserved for work, and he needs to do lots of it. He’s been kind of slacking off lately, with Danneel and work-outs and going to a couple of Chris and Steve’s gigs. He could really use the entire day to meet old man Vaughan’s ridiculous demands.
And he wants to tell Jared that, he really means to do so, only, when he opens his mouth, he says, ‘Sure, man. Let me know when.’
By the time he thinks he’d be able to refuse Jared the way he’d meant to, he’s already rewarded with an enthusiastic ‘awesome’ and a foot rub that’s out of this world and he can’t bring himself to say it.
*
After going in to see him that Saturday, it seems Jensen can’t refuse Jared anything at all anymore. He’ll be at work, or at the gym, or with Danneel and Jared will call saying that someone was stupid enough not to show and Jensen will already have grabbed his keys and jacket.
In a way, it’s weird. It’s not like he really needs the massages anymore. His muscles feel fantastic, relaxed, and the only reason he still goes is because Jared unbelievably seems to get better and better at what he does. It’s the best part of the week for Jensen. He’ll just lie on the table for an hour and not think. He won’t do much of anything, but most of all, he won’t think. His head will just be blissfully blank and his body will enjoy the gentle-but-rough-in-all-the-right-places-touches that Jared puts on him.
He wonders every once in a while, maybe, that a guy as sought after as Jared, with a year-long waiting list, shouldn’t really have this many cancellations. And that he shouldn’t be the only client to fill in the gaps. But frankly, he wouldn’t share this with anyone, not if he has a say in it. And people can keep canceling as much as they want. Because it’s become so much more than just a massage to Jensen, if he’s completely honest. Being around Jared, listening to a story he’s got to tell, it doesn’t take up any energy at all - it’s the complete opposite. It’s like he gets to switch off for a moment and each time when he walks out of Sandover, he feels like he’s a new man, inside and out.
So yes, once or twice (if he’s really lucky) a week, he’ll drop everything to drive out to the spa. He feels bad about it sometimes; he knows he’ll have to catch up work, or he’ll have to think up an excuse for getting away from Danneel or his friends for an hour. He thinks that this must be what having an affair feels like and that there’s no way this can end well. But when Jared’s hands touch down on his skin, he forgets about that instantly and just wonders what kind of idiot you’d have to be to give this up.
However, that’s only three hours a week, tops, that he can shut down. The other one hundred and thirty he’s conscious, he spends on work, going to the gym twice a week, getting a tan, meeting up with Danneel and pretending he’s got a social life. He doesn’t know how it happened, but he finds himself putting off work more and more to get to the other things. Jared’s still throwing in these remarks about his body - as are Danneel and some other people - and he wants to keep getting them, no matter what. He feels good now, and what feels even better, is that people see it in him. He doesn’t want that to change, so he’ll keep going to the gym and he’ll get a tan.
Which means that some nights, he has to go to bed a few hours later and that some mornings, he has to sneak away from Danneel much earlier than he’d originally planned. And that he has to let some files go by sending them off to his assistant to handle. The tight leash he used to have on his designers is a thing of the past too; he simply doesn’t have time to go over everything they do (even if he does keep an eye out for Murray’s work most of the time). It’s rough sometimes, and he hasn’t fully learned yet how to delegate properly, so that he does wind up pulling a couple of all-nighters every now and then. But he seems to be able to handle it, for now, and his bosses haven’t really complained yet, so he sees no reason to change tack.
XXV.
'Hey,' Jared says when Jensen walks into his relax room a couple of weeks later, 'you mind if I tried something different with you?'
‘Like I give you a back rub?’ Jensen says and tries to ignore how the thought of getting his hands on Jared’s skin makes his face heat up. He always says the most ridiculous things when Jared is around. The fact that he’s so tired he could sleep for a month doesn’t seem to help.
‘If you’re offering.’ Jared laughs and makes to pull off his shirt, but drops it at the last moment and Jensen feels kind of disappointed. He just wanted to compare, is all. 'It's nothing scary or anything, I went to this seminar this week on new massage techniques and I really want to try it out on someone.'
'Why me?'
'I like you,' Jared says simply, as if it's obvious. 'You're one of the few clients I feel I can talk with, you know? Talk about more than just the weather or their jobs. I'm not afraid you'll hold it against me if I mess up.'
Jensen's quiet for a moment, because he's completely at a loss of words, while Jared is watching him expectantly. He knows Jared doesn't often think before he speaks, that he doesn't see any harm in saying things like this and it makes Jensen want to smile. A warm feeling pools in his belly and he nods his consent, because really, how could he refuse such unsolicited honesty? 'What is it?'
Jared's smile is so wide and genuine that Jensen can't help but reciprocate with the smile he's been trying to hide. 'Something to help you relax - you look like you could really use it. I promise you'll like it. We're gonna have to go to another room, though, this one's not equipped for what I want to do.'
He's practically bouncing through the hall as he leads the way for Jensen, who can't help but worry slightly at the relocation. 'You're not gonna, like, pop my joints or anything, are you?' he asks warily.
'Naw man,' Jared says, still smiling. 'I don’t need to practice that stuff. I'm actually a chiropractor.'
‘You’re kidding,’ Jensen says without thinking.
‘I never do,’ Jared tells him as he points for Jensen to enter a room to his left. ‘Columbia University. Now get your kit off. All of it.’
‘Excuse me?’ Jensen almost chokes on a breath. He’s not actually shocked because Jared wants him to take his clothes off, but only because his mind’s still processing that this guy, who could easily pass for a kid if you judged him by the way he acted, has spent more time at University than he did - and a much more expensive one, at that. Not that Jensen thinks Jared couldn’t do it, he just doesn’t look the studying type.
But then he sees the way Jared’s looking at him and he can easily imagine him as the big guy on campus, the last one to leave the party with the cool guys and the hot girls throwing themselves at him.
Jensen didn’t exactly spend his nights playing chess, but even so, he was always a bit of an outsider. He’s had his share of pretty girls and he’s hung over more toilet bowls than he cares to remember, but he could never compete and suddenly, he feels really self-conscious.
‘Aw, come on, Jensen. You’ve been coming here for four months. I think we’re ready,’ Jared says, clearly amused by Jensen’s discomfort. He leans over as if he’s about to share a secret. ‘I promise I won’t laugh.’
And that snaps Jensen back to reality. No matter what he or Jared was like back in their student days, he feels comfortable around him now - more so than he’s felt around anyone lately, so he won’t be thrown by his comments any longer. ‘It’s not that which worries me. I wouldn’t want you to get insecure is all.’
Jared laughs loudly and throws him a towel. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. Take it off.’
Jensen swallows, yet he still turns away to get undressed and looks around the room for the first time. The floor is the same as in every rero he’s been in - stripped wood - but that’s the only thing. This room is much bigger, for starters, and the walls are painted in soft green. More importantly, there isn’t a massage table in sight. Only thing he can see is all kinds of gymnastics mats stashed against the wall furthest from him - round ones, square ones, thin ones, thick ones - except for one, which is in the middle of the room on the floor.
‘What is this, P.E.?’ Jensen asks, looking back at Jared. ‘If I’m gonna be doing laps, I think I’ll keep my boxers on.’
‘Sandover rents out these rooms to a couple of physiotherapists on weekdays,’ Jared explains. ‘But they’re empty on the weekends. So don’t make me tell you again to get your clothes off. I’m gonna run back to my rero and get a couple of lotions.’
By the time Jared gets back, he’s on the mat, resting his face on his crossed arms. He’s already draped the towel over his ass in hopes that Jared won’t figure out he’s still wearing his boxers.
‘No, turn over,’ Jared says when he sees him. ‘You need to lie on your back for this.’
Jensen looks up at him, confused, but rolls over anyway. Naturally, Jared spots his briefs as he does so and rolls his eyes at him. ‘Fine, if you wanna be a prude about it.’
He’s staring right at the ceiling when Jared steps into his view. ‘So, what do we do?’ he asks.
‘You do nothing,’ Jared says and points down at him. ‘Just close your eyes and relax. Don’t talk. Don’t think. I won’t be doing much of either myself.’
‘Business as usual, then,’ Jensen says as he closes his eyes.
‘Oh, you’re being extra funny today,’ Jared says in a mock cheerful voice. He sounds as if he’s coming closer and when Jensen cracks open an eye to check, he can see that Jared’s sitting down, knees on either side of Jensen’s head. ‘I never realized you were this funny, Jensen.’
When he laughs and wants to retaliate, Jared flicks his ear and says, ‘Shut up. Breathe deeply.’
His hands touch down on Jensen's face - it feels different, and also a bit odd. The silence between them is new and Jensen doesn't know what to think of it. Jared's fingers smooth out his forehead and eyebrows in one soft, soothing movement, each hand working from the center of his face to his temples. Jensen can smell the lotion he's using and even that's different. It' smells like honey and musk, and like a fireplace in a cabin in the woods.
One finger carefully, almost lazily, circles his eyes for a while and when Jared moves to his jaw, Jensen can feel the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of his wrists rub over the stubble he forgot to shave this morning. He worries that if he keeps this up too long, Jared will get stubble burn, but he shushes close to his ear and quietly says, 'Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. Relax.'
It's as if he stays bent over for a while as he massages, because Jensen can clearly hear the calm, regular breaths Jared's taking and gradually, he falls into the same rhythm without realizing, filling his lungs slowly and completely before letting it out on one long exhale. Jared's fingers slide over to his ears, again tracing soothing circles over them. Jensen didn't even realize you could massage ears, let alone that it could feel so good. Even just the sound of Jared's fingers sliding over the shell of his ear adds tranquility to the moment. He takes his earlobes between index and thumb and presses them hard for a couple of seconds. It doesn't hurt, but Jensen tenses up anyway. When his fingers fall away, though, it's as if all his stress falls away with them.
Jared's nails dig into his hair and scratch his scalp with just enough pressure, still in those slow, circular motions that make Jensen's toes curl. Jared moves down to his right side now, fingers ghosting over Jensen's neck, shoulders and down his arm as he kneels quietly next to him. He takes his right hand in both of his and just sits for a moment. Jensen can feel the warmth of Jared's palms seep into his skin, can feel the calluses on his fingers that even the many lotions can't soften. It feels absurdly intimate for what's essentially a massage-therapist and his client.
He feels Jared trace a hand up to his elbow, inhaling as he works his way up from the softness on the inside of his arm to the rougher skin on the outside on an exhale. He does it again, goes all the way up to his shoulder this time before he starts making his way back to Jensen's hand. Once more, Jensen finds himself synching his breathing with Jared's, slowing it down even more.
Jensen is so relaxed he doesn't even feel his body anymore, all he feels is Jared's hands. All he can think about are his steady, deliberate touches and the vibrating tingle that they leave behind as he smooths out each finger from root to nail.
Almost without a sound, Jared gets up again. Jensen wouldn't even have noticed if he hadn't suddenly missed Jared's weight next to him on the mat. He keeps contact as he moves, carefully maintaining a featherlight caress down his right side and up his left, as if he's afraid Jensen might wonder where he's gone. It makes Jensen feel safe and sheltered, like it's okay for him let his guard down because someone else is keeping it up for him. It is so liberating - especially since he didn't even think he still was stonewalling around Jared - that he can actually feel the warm glow it sends through him spread from limb to limb, blossoming slowly and steadily, buzzing under his skin.
Jared eventually sits back down on Jensen's left side and again gently cradles his hand in his palms, just letting it rest there for a couple of moments. This time, the pad of Jensen's index finger is right on the pulse point in Jared's wrist and he can feel his heartbeat: a slow, steady, soothing drone that seems to have set the pace for this entire massage.
It's only then that Jensen realizes - and it becomes more clear with every stroke or rub Jared puts on him - that it's not only his walls which are being broken down here. Jared too is letting his barriers slip and giving Jensen a chance to look in. It makes Jensen feel empowered and strong, but at the same time humbled and grateful, because Jared picked him out of all his clients - out of everyone - to share this with first. It's intense and intimate and peaceful.
After Jared is done with his left arm, he quietly makes his way back down to Jensen's feet and holds his ankles for a moment - again letting the warmth of his hands get under Jensen's skin. He lifts his ankles slightly and starts rocking Jensen slowly and steadily from the legs up. Jensen thinks he should probably feel a little ridiculous, but it feels so good, shaking off that last bit of tension as he's swaying left to right. Then Jared puts his ankles back down and trails a path down to his right foot with both hands. By now, he knows how sensitive Jensen's feet are and he takes his time rubbing just the right spots in just the right ways.
Jensen feels as if he's floating in water - wonderfully warm, calm water - skin tingling wherever he's been touched and by the time Jared moves on to his left foot, Jensen can't help but let himself drift off.
*
Jensen groans as he turns around, grabbing for the sheets on his bed as he does so. He doesn't immediately find them, but he's not cold exactly and he's still hovering in that wonderfully lazy place between dream and awake and wants to keep it that way for as long as he possibly can. Because he's having a good dream. A really good dream.
He gasps a little when he shifts again, morning-wood almost painfully constricted in his boxer shorts, and tries to go back to the images that are already getting foggy on the edges. He can still feel the soft, hungry touches that were making him feel this good, though, and he gets back into it quickly enough. He lets the great, big, skilled hands run all over his body and Jensen wants to moan.
But then he hears noise that doesn't belong in his house and he frowns, the dream fading quickly. There's a rustle as someone walks by, steps too heavy and powerful to be Danneel's, and that's the split second that Jensen needs to realize he's not in his house or even in a bed at all.
His eyes snap open and he smacks his lips that he's apparently had parted for a while, because his mouth and throat are dry. He lifts his head disorientedly, peeling his cheek off the gym mat he's been lying on, and looks around the room, squinting.
He looks right at Jared who seems to be pottering around, cleaning up, and a ripple of excitement runs through his body. Suddenly, what he'd been dreaming about isn't at all vague anymore - it's crystal clear - and the moan that had been threatening to get out spills over his lips, unwanted.
'Jared.' His voice is rough and husky. He sounds like an advert for porn, which hopefully Jared will mistake for drowsy. He wants to die, right now on the spot, and for a second he thinks he might of blue balls. Thankfully, he still has enough common sense left in him to rearrange his towel quickly so it's lying across his lap in what he hopes is a fairly not-tented manner.
If Jared noticed anything, he doesn't show it at all. He turns toward Jensen with an easy smile on his face. 'Hey. I didn't mean to wake you.'
He shakes his head, still trying to clear the last remnants of sleep from it and - if he has to be honest, the amazing visuals that popped into it when he saw Jared. 'I fell asleep?'
'Somewhere along the way, yeah,' Jared says. 'You looked so tired when you came in, I thought it was best not to wake you. Your hour's only been up for fifteen minutes or so, so you haven't slept long.'
''m sorry,' Jensen says to Jared's sneakers. He's too embarrassed to let his eyes go any higher.
'Not at all,' Jared says happily and crouches down near Jensen, as if he can tell Jensen can't look him in the eye. 'The whole point of this thing was getting you to relax. Mission accomplished.'
'Yeah, it's - er -well, intense,' Jensen says awkwardly as he shifts on the gym mat, pressing his legs together. 'I'd say that this is good enough for shop.'
'No, I think I'm gonna keep this technique for special occasions. Or special clients,' Jared smiles again, flashing his dimples at Jensen.
It doesn't help his hard-on.
*
Getting home from Sandover has never taken this long. Jensen gets every red traffic light he passes and he has to wait ten minutes before he can drive up his street, because apparently, some loser thought it was a good idea to honk maniacally at a carriage which made the horse freak out and cause an accident. All the while he sits in his car, he tries to block out Jared's touches - the ones from the massage and the ones from his dream - and that only makes things worse.
By the time Jensen finally makes it to his bathroom, taking off his boxers is almost enough to make him come. It's embarrassing and confusing and it's only the beginning. After that, Jensen dreams about Jared almost every night, and wakes up cursing every time.
XXVI.
‘Huh,’ Chris says when Jensen finally tells him about what happened (even if it’s a mostly censored version) as they’re both lying on the couch. They’ve got their feet up on the coffee table, in the few empty spots not covered in take-away boxes or empty beer bottles. The mess is actually completely blocking their view of the television, but they’re both full and on their eighth beer, so it’s not like they particularly care.
Chris takes a long drag from his bottle and frowns. ‘So, are you gay?’
‘What?’ Jensen says, too high, too shrill and too quickly. ‘No. I’m not. Why would you say that?’
Chris lets his head lull slightly to the right, chin still leaning on his chest, and raises his eyebrows. ‘Come on, man. You’ve been raving about this guy for weeks, actually taking time off to go see him and now you’re thinking about canceling because of a dream?’ He stops talking for a moment, giving Jensen the chance to explain. He notices quickly enough, though, that his friend isn’t cooperating and decides to finish his train of thought. ‘That ain’t been a dream about getting a few beers after work. It’s more-‘
‘More like him shoving his dick up my ass while giving me a back rub?’ Jensen spits out, teeth grinding as he speaks.
Chris falls silent, then shifts on the couch and winces, as if he’s imagining what Jensen’s just said. For a second, Jensen actually thinks he’s won, but then Chris speaks again. ‘I was just gonna say “more than that”, but all right. Graphic works too.’
Shit. Jensen can feel the blood rush to his head, can feel his cheeks turn red and tries his best not to swear out loud.
‘Spit it out, you asshole,’ Chris drawls and nudges him lazily with his beer bottle. ‘You think I actually care?’
‘I’m not gay!’ Jensen says emphatically, wishing he’d never started the conversation. Fucking Chinese food. Sated feeling always makes him loose-lipped. ‘I’ve been with Danneel.’
‘I made out with Steve in college. Doesn’t make me gay. Just like you being with Danneel doesn't prove anything.’ Chris holds up a hand, as if he wants to amend what he's just said. 'Except maybe a gross error in judgment.'
Chris has never liked Danneel. Probably because he knows girls like her will forever and always be out of his reach.
‘Right, because compared to a serious relationship of-‘ At this point, Jensen’s brain catches on to what Chris has just said and the words he’d wanted to use completely escape him, all of a sudden. Along with the whole of the English vocabulary, which leaves him opening and closing his mouth a few times and he’s vaguely aware he must look like the most dumbstruck fish in history. When he does manage to form a complete sentence again, he croaks, ‘You did what? Like, by accident?’
‘We were drunk and horny,’ Chris says, waving a hand, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to spring on Jensen. ‘Weren’t any chicks around and we wanted to know what it was like.’
‘And?’ Jensen manages, feeling the heat from his cheeks spread to his neck and ears. He shouldn't want to know this badly. ‘What was it like?’
‘Well,’ Chris says, narrowing his eyes to slits, as if he’s trying to remember. ‘When you close your eyes, it’s just a mouth and tongue like any other. Especially when you’re drunk.’
Jensen raises his eyebrows. ‘Romantic.’
‘It’s true. That’s my point,’ Chris tells him, as if it’s obvious, even if Jensen can’t begin to understand what he’s getting at. ‘You looking at me different now you know this?’
Jensen rolls his eyes and snorts. ‘No.’ Steve and Chris, they would have tried just about anything back then. So why not this? ‘It doesn’t really surprise me, come to think of it.’
‘Exactly. Me either - I mean, I wouldn’t look at you different.’ Chris suddenly is quiet, clearly thinking hard.
Jensen supposes it’s time to put away the beer and start breaking into the water. He has to get up early and work a bit anyway.
‘Point is,’ Chris continues loudly and vehemently and it startles Jensen, because he’d almost forgotten his friend was indeed trying to prove something. ‘Point is, a mouth is a mouth, doesn’t matter if there’s stubble or not, you know. Whatever else there's attached to it shouldn't matter. As long as it’s the right mouth.’
Definitely time to stop drinking, Jensen thinks and laughs. ‘No wonder you get all the girls with all that sweet talkin’.’
‘It’s not like you’d want them, anyway,’ Chris shoots back, but his expression is serious. ‘I mean it. As long as you find someone to make you happy, no one that cares about you is gonna trip over their gender, you jackass.’
‘Fine, I get it,’ Jensen says, holding up his hands in surrender.
‘Good.’ Chris nods and smiles. ‘So you’re gay?’
‘I’m-‘ Jensen swallows the not he wants to shout out, almost as a knee-jerk reaction and stops to think. He sighs and looks at Chris, who’s watching him expectantly, and lamely finishes his sentence with, ‘confused.’
Which isn’t any less true.
‘Well. That’s some progress, at least,’ Chris says and turns back to watch the television, even though they haven’t moved and still can’t really see the screen.
They watch silently for a while and Jensen’s almost convinced his friend’s fallen asleep when he hears, ‘Hey, Jensen?’
‘What’s up?’ he replies as he takes a swig off his beer, not taking his eyes off their feet and pretending he can see what show is on.
‘What’s this Jared-fellow got that I don’t?’
He freezes for a moment, alcohol making him slower to process new information, until he notices the sniggering Chris is trying - and failing - to hold in and the obvious shaking of his shoulders.
‘The common sense of knowing when to stop talking, you dick,’ Jensen says as he grabs a pillow and launches it at him with all the strength he can muster.
Chris erupts into laughter and Jensen could swear this is the first night he doesn’t dream of Jared and wake up frustrated as hell. Although he’s not sure the nightmares about being chased by giant mouths of undetermined gender are any better.
*
previous * next