Fic: Battered Soul. A "Sex and Coffee" story. AU RPS. Jensen/Jared plus more. NC-17 1/3
Title: Battered Soul
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Chris/Steve, Jensen/Jared/Chris, Jensen/Chris/Steve, Danneel/Aldis/Steve
Word count: 22.620 words
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Story in the Slip Some Sex in My Coffee verse. “So, I’d just moved here, the prettiest little gay boy you’ve ever seen, not a penny to my name, and I needed a place to stay …” Or how Jensen ran away from his psycho bitch of a mom, found a real family and lost his virginity. Also there are threesomes (yes, plural). And Chris Kane being the absolute King of Kissing.
Warnings: Okay, I know this verse is usually heavy on the porn and light on everything else but I'm putting a warning on this one for severe non-sexual child abuse since it features, among other things, pieces from Jensen's very bad childhood and the effects of childhood trauma, both physical and mental. Or, to quote my lovely beta: "You are a cruel, cruel muse with a taste for misery!" But, you know, there's also porn! And so, so much kissing!
Author’s note: Beta’d by the lovely filth-lover and porn-enabler candygramme. Thank you, sweetie. Title taken from the song with the same name by Anna Ternheim.
Also available on AO3.
“There is a primal reassurance in being touched, in knowing that someone else, someone close to you, wants to be touching you. There is a bone-deep security that goes with the brush of a human hand, a silent, reflex-level affirmation that someone is near, that someone cares.” (Jim Butcher)
He hides under the couch until he hears the sound of hard heels leaving the room. Then he slinks from his hiding place and makes a run for it. He’s almost at the door when his arm is yanked back. It pops out of the socket and he cries out, his vision going white.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she hisses, pulling him by the arm into the kitchen, mindless of his screaming. “How did you get out, you little weasel?” She wrenches open the cabinet under the sink, shoves him in and slams the door shut. He hears the rattle of the chain linking the handles, the click of the padlock that she forgot before. “Now shut up or you’re in for a world of hurt!”
He’s already in a world of hurt. His shoulder feels like it’s burning, all the way down to his fingertips. It’s dark, his nose stings from the smell of damp mold and cleaning supplies. He wipes the tears and snot off his face with the sleeve on his good arm. Bundles up the front of his shirt and shoves it into his mouth. Then straightens his knees as far as they can go and pushes his shoulder into the opposite wall as hard as he can. She bangs the door when she hears his muffled scream and he jerks away, whimpering when his leg hits the hot water pipe. He pulls up his knees, cradling his arm to his chest, every hitch of his breath sending jolts of pain through his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to slow his breathing. Maybe if he keeps completely still, she’ll forget he’s there.
The house is dark and quiet when Josh lets him out. He feeds him toast and milk and tucks him into bed. They don’t talk about it. Ever.
Present Day
Jensen hangs up his thick coat and rolls his shoulders with a grimace. New York winters can be brutal on his old aches and pains. Today is in the lower digits and everything hurts.
Danni throws him a concerned look. “Shoulders acting up?”
Jensen shrugs, which sends another jab of pain into his joints, making him wince. “I’m alright,” he dismisses but doesn’t argue when she orders him to pull off his shirt and sit down so she can rub some heating gel into his stiff muscles. It’s still early, they’ve got time before the regular crowd starts banging on the door.
“Damn, you’re tense,” she says, pressing so hard with her thumbs his eyes water. Just as well his eyeliner is waterproof. “Everything alright?”
Jensen hangs his head, eyes closed. “Josh keeps fucking calling me.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t know how many times I have to tell him I’m not coming ‘home’ for a visit. Not now, not ever.”
He means to huff but it sounds more like a whine as Danni kneads into his shoulders with her elbows. Oh God, yes, there! He bites back what Jared in his purple prose would call a whimper but in fact would have been a very manly groan. She gives him a last rub and he stands up, rolling his shoulder. They feel better, if not great. “Thanks.”
He pulls the black t-shirt with Chevy’s logo back on and checks himself in the mirror, scowling at the flatness of his hair. Damn snow. At least the color hasn’t run. Bright pink today, with nail polish to match. Never let it be said he isn’t color coordinated. Everything else is as it should be. He needs to buy a new eyeliner, the old one’s been worn down to almost nothing. But the mascara Gen recommended makes his eyes look fantastic.
“Feel up to writing the specials?”
“Can a girl have some coffee first?” Jensen complains, fetching his apron from behind the counter.
“She can have one, if she’s quick about it.”
“That’s no way to treat a lady, is it, sweetheart?” he coos as he makes himself an espresso.
Danni laughs. “You talking to me or the coffee?”
“Oh, you, always,” Jensen assures her before whispering, “Sweetheart,” into his hot steaming cup of liquid happiness. He yelps when Danni nips his butt. Not just for show, Jared did get rather enthusiastic with the spanking last night.
His arm does hurt as he reaches to write on the board but he likes doing the specials. It’s a nice outlet for his artistic side, one that doesn’t involve his face. It’s been slow all week, with the snow piling insistently higher every day, so Gen won’t be in until later. And judging by how Jensen left Jared this morning they won’t see him until lunch.
He steps back and inspects his work, nodding with satisfaction. Not too flowery, just enough to catch people’s attention while still being legible. Especially with his hand being so much steadier now than when he first got here. But then again, he’s not even the same person as he was when he first got here. So very far from it.
7 years ago
“Drink up, sweetie. You must be freezing.”
Jensen obediently sips the coffee Danni’s aunt, Kim, thrust into his hands the minute he sat down. Just as well he’s well trained to hide his feelings because the sweet-smelling liquid tastes horribly bitter. Why the hell do people drink this stuff? Ugh.
“Now, Danni told us you need a place to stay. You got any money?”
He pulls what he has out of his pocket. It isn’t much, the bus ride from Texas had used up what little of his summer job’s wages he’d managed to hide from his mom. He’d walked from the bus station to save money, which is why he’s now shivering having been drenched in the rain on his way to Chevy’s, this hole-in-the-wall coffee house Danni’s aunt owns. He eyes the prices printed on the board above the counter and blanches. He really hopes they don’t mean for him to pay for the coffee.
Kim tuts, shaking her head. “Well, that ain’t much.”
She’s a lesbian in her forties, a butch counterpart to Julie, her slight, feminine wife, who’s smiling at Jensen from across the table, her hand resting on Kim’s arm. “You know anything about coffee, Jensen?” she asks. “Other than you hate the taste.”
He blushes. “No, ma’am. But I’m a quick learner. And I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” He takes another sip, appreciating the heat if not the bitter taste on his tongue. “Tastes better already.”
“Liar.”
Julie is smiling but he still winces, his shoulders automatically tensing in preparation for the blow that doesn’t come. Danni grabs his hand under the table, squeezing it, and he forces himself to relax. If the couple studying him notice, they don’t say anything, just wait until he manages to look up again.
“We’ve been needing another pair of hands so that’s the money taken care of,” Kim says all matter-of-fact, like she isn’t saving his life. “Now we just need to find you a place. You can sleep with Danni for now, we have an extra mattress, but the room is way too small for two. And to be honest, we’re too set in our ways to have a man in our home for more than a few days. No offence.”
He shakes his head, feeling so relieved he wants to cry. He’d been ready to sleep on the floor in the storage room if they’d let him. Anything but stepping alone out that door again, into a city that seems far from welcoming.
“Thank you, ma’am. Ma’am,” he repeats, looking at Julie. “You really don’t have to,” his cowed courtesy forces him to add. “I mean, I’m sure I can-” He chokes up, suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of his situation. He doesn’t have any other place to go. He doesn’t even have a home anymore. Not that he ever did.
“Jen, it’s okay.” Danni puts her arm around him and wipes a tear away from his cheek with her thumb. He hadn’t even realized it was there.
“I’m sorry,” he says, hating how weak he sounds. He hasn’t cried in years. He doesn’t get why he’s doing it now, when there’s nothing to cry about.
“You aint’ got nothing to be sorry about, son,” Kim says, patting his hand. “We’ve all been there.” She pauses, her gaze scrutinizing. He can just imagine what she sees. The way he sits hunched over, his shoulders aching from the cold rain. How his skin is stretched just a little too thin over his face. The crooked bend of his left index finger. The bruises around his wrists. The cut above his eye, the shiner, the split lip, the blood that wouldn’t come out of the collar of his jacket. “Maybe not quite there. Your dad?”
His face heats up. He shakes his head.
“His mom’s a psycho bitch,” Danni says and he flinches. He’s never heard her sound so angry. Maybe because they’re finally out of his mother’s reach.
Kim nods while tears glimmer in Julie’s eyes. “Didn’t like her little boy being queer?”
He doesn’t know if Danni told them or if she can just tell. “Didn’t like me. Never, never told her … the other thing.”
“Say it.” He looks up. Julie is watching him with kind eyes. “Honey, you’re safe. Say it.”
He draws in a shaky breath. “Gay. I never told her I’m… I’m gay.” He breathes out a laugh, feeling suddenly elevated.
She smiles. “There you go.”
Present day
He throws a greeting over his shoulder as Alli and Kristen come stamping in, leaving trails of snow that will turn into sludge soon enough. Jensen sighs. He hates days like this when he spends half his time mopping sloppy water off the floor.
At least it’s Friday. He has the whole weekend off and can sleep in as he likes, or as long as Jared will let him. And then there’s Chris and Steve’s party... Jensen adjusts himself, just the thought making his already tight jeans feel even tighter. Last time had been … He doesn’t even have the words to describe it. (Even if Jared had, in his latest manuscript to his publisher. Many, many words. Reading it had made Jensen feel almost embarrassed, something he didn’t think was possible anymore.)
The morning goes by excruciatingly slowly. He’s so used to Jared sitting in the corner booth, working, or more often staring at him all mooneyes, he feels bored and lonely without him. He doesn’t even have customers to bitch about, seems everyone is staying inside because of the weather. Plus, his feet are still cold, the sloppy snow having soaked through his sneakers on his way in this morning. Maybe Jared is right, maybe it’s time to invest in some proper winter boots. They just all look so… boring. He looks down at his beloved rainbow colored glittery Converse sneakers. Now, if he could find some boots that looked like these. Seriously, what’s the use in being gay if you can’t be fabulous?
Okay, he’ll be the first to admit that of all his queer friends, he’s the only real flaming one. Jared looks more like a bodybuilder in his jeans and tight sweaters. And Chris and Steve… Alright, Steve might pass, if it wasn’t for his weird collection of beach shirts, but Chris is like the butchest Texan Jensen has ever met. Okay, he has long hair but he’s also stocky and sort of grumpy looking. Except when he smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he gets this soft look on his face like he just wants to tuck Jensen into bed and feed him soup. Which, to be fair, was mostly what he did the five years Jensen lived with them. That, and other things. Jensen sighs and picks at a cuticle. Sometimes he misses living with Chris and Steve so much it hurts. Even if he has Jared now. It’s just different. Jared is the love of his life, the most important person in the universe to him. Chris and Steve are … family. Honestly, apart from the day he first saw Jared, meeting Chris and Steve was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.
7 years ago
“So, you need a place to stay?”
Jensen looks up from where he’s wiping the counter. There are two guys standing by the door, grinning at him. Well, one stands, the other is hanging off him like a drunk monkey.
“What?” he says, guarded. They’re just about to close. He hadn’t even heard them come in.
The clingy one looks like a surfer, long beach-blond hair and a tan. The other reminds him uncomfortably of a cowboy in his plaid shirt and dark jeans, despite the hair being a bit too long. His suspicion is confirmed when the guy sticks out his hand and introduces himself as Chris Kane, the southern twang evident in his voice. “And this here is Steve. Don’t mind him, he might be high.”
“Okay,” Jensen says slowly.
Chris grins. “Don’t look so scared, kid. Julie sent us. Just so happens we have a room to spare. Plus, we need someone to housesit. We’re going away for a couple of weeks. Touring,” he adds when Jensen just stares at him. “Have some plants that need taking care of.”
Jensen can just imagine what kind of plants. But it’s not like he has much of a choice, he’s been cramping it in Danni’s room for over a week now. He really needs to find a place of his own. And Julie would hardly send just any weirdos his way.
“Okay. Let me just… Just a minute.” He pulls off his apron and glances into the storage room before finding Kim in the back alley, smoking. He keeps his face neutral even if the smell always makes him queasy. “Is it alright if I take off? There are some guys here, they say Julie sent them. About a room?”
“Oh, thank god!” Kim crushes the cigarette with the toe of her boot and shoots him a grin. “Sorry, kiddo. No slight to you, you’re the sweetest boy. I’m just ready for my home to be testosterone free, you know.”
Jensen kinda thinks Kim brings plenty of testosterones herself, not that he’ll ever tell her that. “You know them? They say their names are Chris and Steve.”
“Ah.” Her smile turns a bit crooked. “Oh well, you might as well have the full city experience. No, no, they’re fine. Good boys. Good boys.”
He eyes her suspiciously but she just grins. He follows Kim inside, his suspicion growing stronger from the low chuckle she tries to cover with a cough. “Hiya, boys. Now you be nice to Jensen. He could use a couple of friends.”
“You know us, Kim.” Chris says with a grin. “We’re always nice.”
“That’s what I’m afraid off. Go, go,” she shoos Jensen out the door like he’s a skittish calf. “Let us know if you’ll be home for dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jensen pretends not to hear Chris snort. He might be a long way from his mother’s fist but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten his manners.
“Jensen, eh?” Chris says, looking him up and down as they stroll down the street. “That all, or you got a last name to go with it?” He shrugs when Jensen frowns at him. “Julie just told us to look for the pretty one.”
Jensen can feel his cheeks heating. “Ackles. My name is Jensen Ackles.”
“Texas boy! Now there’s an accent I haven’t heard in a while. You got any bad habits, Jenny? Coke, snuff, whatever? Drink yourself stupid? Bring home big burly bears at all hours?”
Jensen shakes his head. His face feels increasingly hot. “No.”
“Hey, no judging. We’ve got some bad habits of our own. Better get that out there. We drink, we smoke, we like to have sex on the couch. With each other,” he clarifies as if that isn’t obvious by the way Steve is nuzzling his hair.
“Okay.”
“You’re a man of few words, Jensen Ackles. I like it. Now, here we are. Darling, let go. I gotta get my keys.” Chris pushes a protesting Steve off him to reach the keys in his pocket. “Come on up.”
The apartment is small but from what Jensen’s gathered, that’s just how it is in New York, unless you have more money than you know how to spend. He’d been right about the plants. There are more than plenty. The air smells of beer and weed but the place is clean, more or less, and the room they’re offering him has a real bed, a big one, some drawers for the few clothes he owns, and a key in the lock. That’s pretty much all he needs.
“You like it? Good. Great. Come on, sweetheart, let’s sit down.”
He pushes Jensen down on the couch, the only furniture in the living room apart from a sofa table and a TV. Steve is lying flat on the floor, apparently contemplating the ceiling. Chris gives him an affectionate nudge with his foot before planting himself on the couch, close enough that Jensen can feel the heat radiating of him. It seems unnecessary, it isn’t that small of a couch. He starts to shift away but Chris slings an arm in a comradely fashion over his shoulders. A surprised frown is there and gone so fast Jensen can almost believe he didn’t see it. He tenses and waits for the inevitable questions. His shirt may be baggy but close contact can’t hide there’s next to nothing underneath it.
But Chris just tilts his head, thoughtful, and then he smiles, the softest smile, his blue eyes turning warm and kind. Jensen blinks. He breathes out, and a little of the tension melts away. Suddenly he doesn’t feel nearly as anxious.
“About the rent, love. You’ll be basically housesitting the first two weeks, so we’ll wave those. After that … What you make at Chevy’s?” Jensen tells him, and Chris whistles. “Not bad for a first gig. Plus, I bet you get lots of tips, a sweet thing like you.” Jensen blushes and looks away. He does alright. “And you can drink all the coffee you like.”
Jensen shakes his head. “I don’t drink coffee.”
Chris laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Oh man! Seems we've got a lot to teach you.” He gives Jensen’s shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go, only to slap him on the thigh. “Go on, go get your things. We’ll celebrate with pizza, my treat.”
Jensen hesitates. Everything is happening so fast. “But … the rent?” He’d rather know now if he can’t afford it. Even if Chris does intimidate him a little, and Steve is still an unknown variable who hasn’t said a single word yet.
He breaths out in relief when Chris tells him, although it sounds like he just made the number up on the spot. Jensen will still have plenty left for food, and maybe he can buy himself some clothes. The jeans he’s been wearing thin for the last three years are falling apart, same with his t-shirts, other than the black ones Kim makes him wear for work which feel too tight and tell too much. Danni says tight clothes are good for tips, but he doubts people want to see what he’s showing. Plus, he doesn’t like being looked at like that. Pretty or not, he prefers staying under people’s radar.
His stuff fits in the backpack he brought from home. Not like he’d managed to get away with much anyway. Not like he’d had much to get away with. Kim and Julie hug him tight, with Kim slipping a couple of twenties into his pocket while Julie assures him that he’s always welcome back if it doesn’t work out. Danni keeps asking him if he’s sure, asking Kim and Julie if it’s safe, if they even know anything about these guys.
“They’re harmless, honey,” Julie tells her. “Smoke a bit much, but sweet as anything. He’ll be fine. I promise. In fact,” she adds and gives Jensen a smile he doesn’t know how to interpret, “I think they’re just what he needs.”
When he gets back to the apartment, the pizza is there, a movie is playing on the TV, and, when he sits down at the far end of the couch, Steve hands him a beer like he’s an actual adult. Jensen sips it slowly, knowing from embarrassing experience that he gets drunk easily. When they roll a joint and offer it to him, he only hesitates for a moment before taking a drag. Then coughs until his eyes water. They don’t laugh, Chris just shows him how to keep the smoke in his mouth and inhale just a little at a time. After only a few puffs his head is swimming. He tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling. When he looks back down the movie is over and Chris and Steve are kissing. Jensen stares at them, mouth open, his stomach suddenly tight and warm. When the kissing turns into a full make out session, he flees to his room. He lies red-faced, his stomach tight and warm, listening to them going at it like there’s no tomorrow. Feeling stupidly young and naïve despite his eighteen years because he hardly knows enough to even imagine what they´re doing.
Sure, he’s kissed someone (Danni) and dated (Danni, for a week), even had sex once (again Danni, awkward, horrible, never, ever, again sex) before he realized there was no way he could pretend he was into girls. He’s watched porn. Only straight porn with some of the guys in his class, all of them giggling while they tried to hide their boners (not Jensen, the guy in the porno was fat and hairy and had a horrible mustache). His mom never left him alone with the computer long enough to dare look for anything else. The internet was strictly for homework. He’d never even seen two guys kissing before. And the rest … God, the noises they’re making. He has his own hand on his dick under the covers before he knows it, coming without even jerking himself properly off. And then they just keep at it. For hours.
The next morning, when he wakes up, they’re gone.
It’s been two weeks and Jensen is stressing out. Chris never said exactly when they'd be back but then again, he didn’t tell Jensen that they were leaving right away either. To be safe he makes sure to keep everything in order, the floors are always scrubbed, the kitchen is impeccably clean and the bathroom is so sparkly he could lick the bowl if his mother showed up to make him. He frets over the plants, having no idea how much to water them or when. What if he does it wrong and kills them? Plus, he keeps waiting for the police to bang on the door to ask why he’s got a house full of illegal plants. At least he thinks they’re illegal. He doesn’t dare ask Danni or the aunts. What if they’re not supposed to know about them?
Not that it’s been all bad, living alone. He’s made himself comfortable, being able to stretch out on the couch with full control of the TV remote. Just him. No footsteps waking him up in the middle of the night. No doors slamming, no shadows playing on the wall. His own safe place. Even if the noises outside his window at night sometimes make him want to pull the covers over his head.
Truth is, a part of him is dreading them coming back. And not just because the apartment might not meet their approval, (even if it’s way cleaner than they left it.) or because he hates giving up the only privacy he’s ever had. (Frankly, sitting alone all nights, listening to the sound of his own breathing in the empty apartment is not as comforting as he would have thought.) He’s dreading it, because they were so… physical. Overwhelmingly intimate. That first night keeps playing in his head, making his stomach churn, and his chest feel strangely hollow, and then he turns red with shame, because he gets hard, like instantly.
That was one night. How is he supposed to live with that every night, after they get back? He wants to talk to Danni about it, but he feels too embarrassed. Especially after he lied to her, told her he’d been on a date his first weekend, had done some kissing of his own, when the truth is he just needed to get away for a few hours, from Kim and Julie’s obvious love for each other, their obvious love for their niece. The warm loving home he didn’t fit into and knew he would soon have to leave.
The door bangs open, and he jumps up from the couch so fast he feels dizzy and has to sit back down. Chris and Steve shuffle in with arms full of guitars and duffel bags, grinning when they see him. “Hey, you’re home!” Steve announces, sounding almost sober. Seems he does talk.
Jensen nods and stands up again. He’s about to make his excuse and flee into his room when Chris dumps the stuff he’s carrying and walks up to him, pulling him in for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “You miss us, sweetheart?” Then he hands Jensen over to Steve who wraps his arms around him in a tight hug, releasing him with a soft smile when Jensen just stands there, frozen.
He hovers awkwardly as they put away their stuff, the guitar cases propped up against the wall in the living room, the duffel bags thrown into their bedroom.
“Wow, the place looks... Holy shit! Did you clean?” Chris yells from the bathroom. He’s taking a piss. With the door open. Jensen can’t even imagine why anyone would do that.
Steve whistles as he saunters into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “How the hell did you get rid of the mold?”
Jensen doesn’t say, “I just cleaned,” in case they'd take offence. He doesn’t know when they cleaned the fridge last, but he’d found stuff in there that had long moved on from being food into being bio hazard.
Chris comes out, drying his hand on a towel that he throws over the couch before putting his hands on Jensen’s hips, pulling him close. “Darling, we appreciate it but you’re not our maid.”
“I don’t mind,” he says, feeling strange with Chris standing so close, watching him with those sharp blue eyes. “I didn’t know when you’d get back.”
“I tried to call, sweetheart. I just figured you were out, enjoying the nightlife.” Chris gaze is penetrating, like he’s looking for something, Jensen doesn’t know what.
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve just been here. I just… I didn’t think it’d be for me.” He doesn’t know how to explain he was never allowed to answer the phone back home.
Chris’s eyes soften, and he gives Jensen a quick kiss on the cheek before letting him go. “You live here now, love. The phone’s for everyone. But we should get you a cell phone. Steve, you still have your old phone? Steve?”
He pats Jensen amicably on the arm and goes searching for his boyfriend. Jensen uses the opportunity to slip away, the lump in his throat suddenly too big to swallow. They’ve only just met him, and they treat him like … like he matters. They have no idea he doesn’t. That he’s just …. They don’t know.
Jensen’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, when Chris knocks on the door and enters without waiting for an invite. They should probably talk about stuff like that, Jensen thinks, while anxiously watching Chris out of the corner of his eye.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Chris sits on the bed and strokes Jensen’s cheek gently. “We can be a bit much, I know. We just missed you.”
“You don’t even know me,” Jensen says, swallowing.
“Maybe. But we’d like to.” Chris scoots up on the bed and lays down, putting his arm lightly around Jensen’s waist. Jensen tenses, his heart hammering in his chest. He wants to jump up and flee but… the warmth, the gentle pressure… it feels so good, just being touched. “We talked about it. Me and Steve,” Chris continues, his voice low and soothing. “That we’d like to get to know you. Just friends.” He kisses Jensen softly on the cheek “Or, if you want...” He kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth, like a gentle promise of what can be. “Whatever you want, love.”
Jensen’s breath hitches in his chest. He suddenly realizes that what he’d been feeling that night, that first night, lying in bed and listening to them through the door, hadn’t been embarrassment. It hadn’t even been just lust. It had been envy. He’d wanted it. Had wanted them to turn to him, to want him like they wanted each other. He didn’t even lock his door that night, he just realizes. Like he was actually hoping… Oh. That’s why he’d dreaded them coming home. Because he didn’t want to feel that way again, that lonely, jealous sorrow in his chest. But instead of that, he’s here, not alone. Not left out.
He nods and whispers, “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay, love,” Chris says and kisses his cheek again.
He looks up as Steve slips through the door, his smile clearly conveying Jensen’s answer, because Steve comes over to lie on Jensen’s other side, propped up on one arm. Chris raises himself up on his elbow and leans over. Jensen gazes up at them, kissing, inches above his face. They smell like exhaust, and bad coffee, and days on the road with no decent showers. Their long hair is like curtains, enclosing him in an intimate bubble. He lets out a small shaky breath. Chris and Steve pull apart and gaze down at him, which makes him breathe even harsher. All that attention, it’s nerve-wracking. Chris is the first to bend down. His lips are amazingly warm and soft, just like Danni’s were, but Jensen can feel day old stubble rub his chin. He sucks in his breath. This is how it’s supposed to feel. He kisses back, hesitantly, still not sure why they’re doing this. Why they are being so nice to him. Because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s no one. He’s worth nothing, is nothing.
“Sshh, sweetheart. You okay?”
They’re both looking at him with concern. Chris cups Jensen’s face, Steve rubs his stomach, warm hand under his t-shirt. Jensen nods, breaths coming short and sharp through his nose. He couldn’t get a word out even if he tried.
“This okay? We can stop.”
He shakes his head.
“First time? First kiss?”
He nods again, heat blossoming from his chest and up to his ears. It is. It is his first real kiss, because those he clumsily tried out with Danni were pretend, were wrong, were nothing like this.
“Hard to believe, such a sweet thing.” Chris kisses him gently. “Don’t worry. We have all the time in the world.” He rolls out of bed and grabs Steve’s hand. “Come on, darling. Let’s give the boy some space to breathe. We’re gonna order food. Pizza okay?”
Jensen has been living on nothing but leftovers from Chevy’s. Pizza sounds heavenly.
When he comes out of his room a little while later, still shaky but at least not on the verge of tears, the guys are cuddling on the couch. As soon as they see him, they make room between them. He tries to object but they won’t hear it. He sits down, feeling awkward, and hopeful and slightly sick with nerves. Chris strokes his jaw, just enough to turn his head for a quick kiss, while Steve goes to fetch him a beer, rubbing his thigh reassuringly when he sits back down. They eat pizza, drink beer, watch some bad tv and smoke some good weed that has Jensen’s head swimming. And all the while there’s always someone touching him, somewhere. The warmth of a hand, the heat of lips, noses, stubbled cheeks. Thighs pressed against his on each side, arms touching arms.
Jensen hasn’t been touched by anyone but Danni for as long as he can remember. Not counting his mother’s heavy hand. He didn’t know it could feel like this. That people did this. Just… touched each other.
After a while he risks laying a palm against Chris’s cheek. It feels daring, his first own gay venture. Chris leans into his touch, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks… proud. Jensen can’t remember anyone ever being proud of him. And for such a small thing. He hitches his breath, blinking rapidly.
“Hey. No. Come here.” Chris pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him, pressing Jensen’s head to gently rest on his chest. “It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright, love.” They lie there, with Jensen curled up in Chris’s arms, and Steve draped over them, rubbing Jensen’s back until he falls asleep.
Jensen is clearing the corner table, humming absentmindedly under his breath. The last few weeks have been like living in a fairy tale. He wakes up, and Chris sits bleary-eyed in the kitchen, waiting for him with a hearty breakfast that has him so full he can hardly stand up. Kissing him good morning and then goodbye as he heads out. At work Danni and Kim greet him with smiles, and through the day they keep feeding him sandwiches and pastries and make him drink more and more coffee, claiming it’s an acquired taste, he just has to get used to it. So far it’s not working. Around noon Chris and Steve will show up, just to say hi, Chris with kisses, Steve with hugs. Then when his day is over, they’ll be waiting at home - home! - with more hugs, and kisses, and casual touches and warm food for his already straining belly. And then the evenings are spent cuddling on the couch, with more kissing and touching and, one time, Steve slowly jerking him off while he moans and whimpers into Chris’s mouth. God, that had been… He feels his face go hot, and he pushes the thought away. He’s at work, it’s not appropriate to be thinking of stuff like that here.
He turns around with his arms full of dirty cups and dishes and runs smack into a lady carrying a full cup of coffee. It splashes all over her front, and she screams in anger. The crockery strikes the floor with a loud crash, he stumbles back into another table, making the couple’s cups rattle, and one tips over, spilling coffee everywhere. He jerks away, heart hammering, breath coming sharp and shallow. She is screaming at him about her blouse being some design or other, and the guy at the table stands up and grabs Jensen’s arm with a loud, “Hey!”, jerking it hard. Then backs away, mortified, when the arm pops right out of the socket. Jensen sucks in his breath, the familiar pain sharp and terrifying. They’re staring at him, the guy gone pale, the woman momentarily stupefied by the sight of his arm just hanging there, so clearly not where it’s supposed to be.
Jensen pushes past her and flees.
Kim finds him in the storage room, back against the wall, cradling his arm, face pale and sweaty. She crouches before him, looking shaken and worried. “Honey, let me see.”
“It’s okay,” Jensen mumbles. “I fixed it.”
She opens her mouth then closes it again. Then asks quietly, “You done it before?”
He nods.
“More than once?”
He looks away. “Am I fired?” he asks, heart in his throat.
She gently strokes his sweat-matted hair from his face. “Sweetie, why on earth would I fire you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He shakes his head. “She said-”
“That lady’s a fucking bitch. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. And the man who assaulted you is very sorry. Do you want to press charges?”
He stares at her, baffled. “What for?”
“Because he hurt you. And I don’t allow anyone to hurt my staff.”
“It’s just my arm. They pop out all the time.”
“Both?” He shrugs with his good shoulder. “Your mom?” He shrugs again. “Jesus! Honey, go home. Rest your arm, put something cold on your shoulder. Here.” She takes a bag of ice out of the freezer and wraps it up in a clean towel. “I doubt the boys have got peas in their freezer. Or any vegetables for that matter.”
“Chris cooks,” Jensen protests, standing up. It jolts his arm, and he lets out a small huff of pain.
“Yeah? Still, take it. Hold it where it hurts the most. You want me to go with you? Or Danni, I called her, she’ll be here in a minute to take your shift.”
“I’m okay. I can manage.”
“Just make sure not to jostle¬-”
“I know what to do,” he interrupts. He just wants to get away, so she’ll stop staring at him like that.
She smiles sadly. “I guess you do. Go home, sweetie. And don’t come back until you’re okay. I mean that.”
He nods and fumbles with the strings of the apron, feeling embarrassed when she has to help him get it off. She drapes his jacket over his shoulders and gives him a last pet on the cheek. “Let us know if you need anything, okay? And if you change your mind about having it looked at, let me know. We have insurance. You’re covered for injuries on the job, hon.”
He nods even if he can’t see what good it would do. The café is unnaturally quiet when he slinks out of the storage room and hurries to the door. A man quickly stands up, stammering an apology but he can’t deal with that right now, so he just pushes by and out, without looking back.
He’s been at home, sitting on the bed in his shorts and t-shirt with a bag of now soggy carrots pressed to his shoulder, staring out the window for he doesn’t know how long when he hears the door bang open and then Chris is there, out of breath and eyes wide. “Jensen!” He hovers before him, seeming not to know where to put his hands that by now would otherwise have already pulled him in for a hug. “Baby, you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Jensen dismisses, uncomfortable with the fuss everyone is making. “It’s just my arm.”
“Just your …” Chris shakes his head. “Darling, you dislocated your fucking shoulder.”
“I know. It’s no big deal.” He looks away. “Happens all the time.”
“Sweet Jesus." Chris runs his hands through his hair. "Alright, alright. Why don’t you lie down?”
Jensen swallows. “It hurts when I lean back.”
Chris’s face turns soft. “I’ll get you some more pillows. Prop you up all proper like.” The kiss is even gentler than usual. “Wait here, love.”
He comes back with the back cushions from the couch and what looks like all of his and Steve’s pillows. After some modification Jensen is leaning back on a mountain of pillows, sweat running down his temple and breathing heavily. Chris starts to pull off his damp t-shirt but Jensen tugs it down again, feeling too self-conscious, and Chris just says, “Alright. You keep it on for now, love.” He strokes Jensen’s cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you don’t look so good. Didn’t you take anything?”
Jensen shakes his head. His mom never gave him anything, he wouldn’t even know what to take.
“I’ll find you some painkillers.” Chris comes back with a couple of white pills and a glass of water. When Jensen’s swallowed them, Chris sits on the bed beside him, pulls out a rolled-up joint and lights up. He takes a few puffs then hands it over. “To soften those sore muscles.”
When Jensen hesitates, Chris takes a long drag, leans over and kisses him, the smoke seeping slowly into Jensen’s mouth and down into his lungs. Chris pulls back with a smile, sucks another hard pull of the joint and leans over again. At some point the pain melts away, whether from the painkillers or the weed, Jensen’s not sure. Chris keeps on kissing him even after the joint is gone. Just soft, slow kisses, meant to sooth rather than turn him on. But the drug is making his whole body feel hot and weird, and without meaning to he moans into Chris’s mouth.
Chris pulls back, chuckling. “You’re just like Steve, love. Weed always makes him horny.” He kisses him again but with closed lips, shaking his head when Jensen wantonly seeks more. “No, love. Now’s not the time.”
Jensen pulls back, mortified. “Sorry.”
“No, sweetheart. It’s not like that. I wanna make you feel good.” Chris kisses him again. “And I will. We will. When you’re not hopped up on smoke and painkillers.” He slips a hand under Jensen’s shirt, running his fingers along his ribs, stroking down the cavity of his abdomen with his palm. Just light touches, warm skin on skin, loving and soothing. It’s so little and still so big, just being touched by another human being. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. Jensen’s eyelids grow heavy, and he falls asleep to Chris murmuring, “Sshh,” and, “Yeah,” and, “Just relax, love.”
“This okay? You alright?”
Jensen nods. He’s lying propped up in bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt. Chris still has all his clothes on. He’s lying beside Jensen, stroking his hair and kissing his neck, his ear, his lips. Across the room Steve is pulling off his shirt, showing off a nicely muscular tanned chest. He starts to unbutton his jeans, but Jensen must give something away, because Chris says, “Keep’em on, darling. We’re not doing that,” and Steve instantly stops.
The mattress dips when Steve crawls in at the foot of the bed. For a moment he reminds Jensen of a panther, getting ready to pounce on a prey, but then Steve lifts his head and there are the kind, if slightly stoned, eyes Jensen has come to know, the happy smile Steve always seems to have when he looks at Jensen or Chris.
He closes his eyes when Steve’s hot mouth descends upon his crotch, breathing hot air onto the already damp cotton of his boxer briefs. Sucks in a shaky breath as Steve nuzzles at his groin, nudging his dick with his nose. Focuses on Chris’s soothing voice, guiding him.
“Alright if he takes them off, love? Yeah? Just lift… yeah, like that. No, no. It’s okay. Steve, babe, wait. Breathe, love. You wanna stop? No? Okay, we’ll just go slow.” He takes Jensen’s sweaty hand, squeezing it. “Just close your eyes, love, and let us make you feel good.”
He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. It’s what he’s wanted, what he wants, but every time they start, his heart speeds up in his chest, and he can’t breathe. He knows she’s not here, that she can’t see him, can’t reach him, but he keeps expecting her to come banging through the door, screaming, and start hitting him, and he just… panics.
“Sshh, sshh. It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. Slow breaths. Slow breaths.”
“Can we, can we lock the door?” Jensen chokes out.
Chris squeezes his trembling hand. “Sure, sweetheart. Steve, go make sure the front door is locked as well. It’s okay, love. No one’s getting in. It’s just us. You want one of us to leave? It can be just me, or just Steve. Your call. Or we can stop. You want to stop?”
“No. It’s okay. I just … I’m sorry.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “She’s not here, she’s not here, she’s not here,” he whispers under his breath.
“She’s not here,” Chris repeats, and Jensen looks at him startled. He hadn’t realized he’d been saying it out loud. But there’s no mockery in Chris’s eyes, just sympathy and a hint of anger. “She’s not gonna come in here, love. We’re never letting her get to you.” Chris cradles Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him softly. “You’re safe. You’re completely safe. Okay?”
Jensen breathes in, he breathes out. In, out. In, out. He opens his eyes. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Chris strokes his hair. “You sure? You wanna keep going? Alright.” He kisses Jensen again and smiles reassuringly. “Just relax and enjoy. I promise, love, it’s gonna feel so good. Steve, babe, do your magic.”
And, oh my god, it is.
“So what, you’re poly or something?”
Jensen shrugs. His face is uncomfortably hot. “No? I don’t know. I think they’re still them, and I’m just.. an extra, I guess.”
Danni frowns. “And you’re alright with that?”
He thinks of waking up that morning with Chris and Steve on either side of him, arms slung over his waist. Of having to wriggle free to get up to go to work. Of Chris catching him by the wrist and pulling him back down on the bed, kissing him with bad breath and sleepy eyes, until Jensen felt dizzy. Telling him not to forget to eat breakfast, that they’ll come by later, to see how he’s doing. Asking, “You alright, love? Good, good. Now get going, darling, or you’ll be late.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. Doesn’t matter if he’s just an extra, for the first time in his life, someone actually wants him. “Yeah, I am.” He lifts the steaming cup of espresso to his lips, tasting it carefully. Okay, this one is a tiny bit better. Maybe. If he puts a heap of sugar in it.
She tilts her head, studying him. “You look almost happy.”
He shrugs. “I am. I think I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”
“Making coffee?” She laughs as he takes another sip and shudders. Ugh. “You don’t even like it.”
“It’s not that bad,” he lies. “And living with Chris and Steve, I think I’m gonna need it.” He blushes. “They kept me up half the night.”
“You slut!” She jumps up on the counter, gleefully swinging her legs. “Tell me everything!”
Present day
“Oh God! Shut up! I don’t wanna know!”
Jensen pouts. “You always want to know.”
“Yeah, okay,” Danni allows, “but your recaps are getting way too detailed.”
“That’s Jared’s fault. He makes me go over everything we do and then repeat it to him, over and over again. It gets stuck on your brain.” He smirks. “Like last night’s cum in my pubes this morning.”
“Ugh, you’re disgusting.” She looks up as the bell above the door dings. “There’s your boy now.”
Jensen turns around and sure enough, Jared is shaking snow out of his hair, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Darling! We were just talking about you!”
Jared’s face goes deep red. It’s adorable. “Again? Jensen, please.” He allows Jensen to kiss him over the counter, pulling back with an awkward smile when Danni clears her throat. “Sorry.”
Jensen dismisses it with a wave. “Don’t mind her. She’s just jealous because she didn’t get laid last night. Unlike some people I won’t name.” He winks at an unfortunate customer that came in on Jared’s heels. “It’s us. Me and this big man here. We got laid some good.”
“Oh god.” Jared slinks over to his usual place in the corner, that these days always has a ‘Reserved for Jared’ sign on it, covered in glittery hearts.
Jensen grins and starts making Jared’s cappuccino. He might even have another espresso himself. He’s only had two this morning, not nearly enough for his addiction. “Danni …”
“Oh jeez. You saw him two hours ago. Whatever. Go, go. Try and keep it PG-13.”
Jensen wriggles his way between the tables to the back, putting their cups on the table before sliding in beside Jared on the bench. Then he gives him another kiss, longer and deeper that leaves them both flushed. “Didn’t expect you until later,” Jensen says, nuzzling Jared’s neck. “You looked dead this morning.”
“I need to go over the last draft before sending it over.” Jared opens his laptop, stabbing nervously at the keys. “I don’t know, maybe it’s too much.”
“Let me see.” Jensen shifts the laptop over, keeping one hand on Jared’s thigh while he scrolls with the other. He shakes his head. “Babe, he’ll love it. If anyone’s a bigger pervert than us, it’s Jeff.”
Jared huffs a laugh. “It just feels a bit... personal.”
“As opposed to everything else you write,” Jensen mocks lovingly.
“You know what I mean. It was the first time I … we … It was …” Jared sighs, gazing into Jensen’s eyes with such affection, Jensen’s heart stutters. “God, I love you.”
The smile that splits his face is so wide it hurts. “I love you too, baby. So much.”
They kiss again, deep and dirty, and when they finally come up for breath, Jensen feels dizzy. “Okay,” he says, leaning back or he’ll just jump Jared and rip his clothes off, right there, rules be damned. “If you really feel it’s too much, you can always write about the time I lost my virginity. That one’s juicy.”
“Whoa.” Jared blinks. “Uhm… Not to be a downer but first times? Usually not that good.”
Jensen smirks. “I was living with Chris and Steve.”
Jared opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again before closing it shut. Finally, he says, “I don’t know whether to be scared or intrigued.”
“How about horny?” Jensen says, pouting. He thought everything involving him made Jared feel at least a little hot.
“Oh, definitely. But also a bit worried.” Jared pulls Jensen close, wrapping his arms tight around his waist. “Tell me you weren’t high.”
Jensen laughs. “I was not high. It was … Actually, it was amazing. And surprisingly sweet.” He shakes his head. “Forget it, I’ve changed my mind. Jeff can’t have that one.”
Jared nods, kissing his cheek. “How about me, can I have it? If it’s alright with you.”
Jensen looks over at the counter. It’s still quiet, Danni is on her phone, probably just checking her emails. “Okay.” He takes Jared’s hand, kissing the still tender skin over the new rainbow tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the one matching his own. He still can’t believe Jared did that. For him. For them. More than anything it made him believe that Jared wasn’t planning on leaving him, ever.. “So, I’d just moved here, the prettiest little gay boy you’ve ever seen, not a penny to my name, and I needed a place to stay …”
This way to Part 2
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Chris/Steve, Jensen/Jared/Chris, Jensen/Chris/Steve, Danneel/Aldis/Steve
Word count: 22.620 words
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Story in the Slip Some Sex in My Coffee verse. “So, I’d just moved here, the prettiest little gay boy you’ve ever seen, not a penny to my name, and I needed a place to stay …” Or how Jensen ran away from his psycho bitch of a mom, found a real family and lost his virginity. Also there are threesomes (yes, plural). And Chris Kane being the absolute King of Kissing.
Warnings: Okay, I know this verse is usually heavy on the porn and light on everything else but I'm putting a warning on this one for severe non-sexual child abuse since it features, among other things, pieces from Jensen's very bad childhood and the effects of childhood trauma, both physical and mental. Or, to quote my lovely beta: "You are a cruel, cruel muse with a taste for misery!" But, you know, there's also porn! And so, so much kissing!
Author’s note: Beta’d by the lovely filth-lover and porn-enabler candygramme. Thank you, sweetie. Title taken from the song with the same name by Anna Ternheim.
Also available on AO3.
“There is a primal reassurance in being touched, in knowing that someone else, someone close to you, wants to be touching you. There is a bone-deep security that goes with the brush of a human hand, a silent, reflex-level affirmation that someone is near, that someone cares.” (Jim Butcher)
He hides under the couch until he hears the sound of hard heels leaving the room. Then he slinks from his hiding place and makes a run for it. He’s almost at the door when his arm is yanked back. It pops out of the socket and he cries out, his vision going white.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she hisses, pulling him by the arm into the kitchen, mindless of his screaming. “How did you get out, you little weasel?” She wrenches open the cabinet under the sink, shoves him in and slams the door shut. He hears the rattle of the chain linking the handles, the click of the padlock that she forgot before. “Now shut up or you’re in for a world of hurt!”
He’s already in a world of hurt. His shoulder feels like it’s burning, all the way down to his fingertips. It’s dark, his nose stings from the smell of damp mold and cleaning supplies. He wipes the tears and snot off his face with the sleeve on his good arm. Bundles up the front of his shirt and shoves it into his mouth. Then straightens his knees as far as they can go and pushes his shoulder into the opposite wall as hard as he can. She bangs the door when she hears his muffled scream and he jerks away, whimpering when his leg hits the hot water pipe. He pulls up his knees, cradling his arm to his chest, every hitch of his breath sending jolts of pain through his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to slow his breathing. Maybe if he keeps completely still, she’ll forget he’s there.
The house is dark and quiet when Josh lets him out. He feeds him toast and milk and tucks him into bed. They don’t talk about it. Ever.
Present Day
Jensen hangs up his thick coat and rolls his shoulders with a grimace. New York winters can be brutal on his old aches and pains. Today is in the lower digits and everything hurts.
Danni throws him a concerned look. “Shoulders acting up?”
Jensen shrugs, which sends another jab of pain into his joints, making him wince. “I’m alright,” he dismisses but doesn’t argue when she orders him to pull off his shirt and sit down so she can rub some heating gel into his stiff muscles. It’s still early, they’ve got time before the regular crowd starts banging on the door.
“Damn, you’re tense,” she says, pressing so hard with her thumbs his eyes water. Just as well his eyeliner is waterproof. “Everything alright?”
Jensen hangs his head, eyes closed. “Josh keeps fucking calling me.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t know how many times I have to tell him I’m not coming ‘home’ for a visit. Not now, not ever.”
He means to huff but it sounds more like a whine as Danni kneads into his shoulders with her elbows. Oh God, yes, there! He bites back what Jared in his purple prose would call a whimper but in fact would have been a very manly groan. She gives him a last rub and he stands up, rolling his shoulder. They feel better, if not great. “Thanks.”
He pulls the black t-shirt with Chevy’s logo back on and checks himself in the mirror, scowling at the flatness of his hair. Damn snow. At least the color hasn’t run. Bright pink today, with nail polish to match. Never let it be said he isn’t color coordinated. Everything else is as it should be. He needs to buy a new eyeliner, the old one’s been worn down to almost nothing. But the mascara Gen recommended makes his eyes look fantastic.
“Feel up to writing the specials?”
“Can a girl have some coffee first?” Jensen complains, fetching his apron from behind the counter.
“She can have one, if she’s quick about it.”
“That’s no way to treat a lady, is it, sweetheart?” he coos as he makes himself an espresso.
Danni laughs. “You talking to me or the coffee?”
“Oh, you, always,” Jensen assures her before whispering, “Sweetheart,” into his hot steaming cup of liquid happiness. He yelps when Danni nips his butt. Not just for show, Jared did get rather enthusiastic with the spanking last night.
His arm does hurt as he reaches to write on the board but he likes doing the specials. It’s a nice outlet for his artistic side, one that doesn’t involve his face. It’s been slow all week, with the snow piling insistently higher every day, so Gen won’t be in until later. And judging by how Jensen left Jared this morning they won’t see him until lunch.
He steps back and inspects his work, nodding with satisfaction. Not too flowery, just enough to catch people’s attention while still being legible. Especially with his hand being so much steadier now than when he first got here. But then again, he’s not even the same person as he was when he first got here. So very far from it.
7 years ago
“Drink up, sweetie. You must be freezing.”
Jensen obediently sips the coffee Danni’s aunt, Kim, thrust into his hands the minute he sat down. Just as well he’s well trained to hide his feelings because the sweet-smelling liquid tastes horribly bitter. Why the hell do people drink this stuff? Ugh.
“Now, Danni told us you need a place to stay. You got any money?”
He pulls what he has out of his pocket. It isn’t much, the bus ride from Texas had used up what little of his summer job’s wages he’d managed to hide from his mom. He’d walked from the bus station to save money, which is why he’s now shivering having been drenched in the rain on his way to Chevy’s, this hole-in-the-wall coffee house Danni’s aunt owns. He eyes the prices printed on the board above the counter and blanches. He really hopes they don’t mean for him to pay for the coffee.
Kim tuts, shaking her head. “Well, that ain’t much.”
She’s a lesbian in her forties, a butch counterpart to Julie, her slight, feminine wife, who’s smiling at Jensen from across the table, her hand resting on Kim’s arm. “You know anything about coffee, Jensen?” she asks. “Other than you hate the taste.”
He blushes. “No, ma’am. But I’m a quick learner. And I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” He takes another sip, appreciating the heat if not the bitter taste on his tongue. “Tastes better already.”
“Liar.”
Julie is smiling but he still winces, his shoulders automatically tensing in preparation for the blow that doesn’t come. Danni grabs his hand under the table, squeezing it, and he forces himself to relax. If the couple studying him notice, they don’t say anything, just wait until he manages to look up again.
“We’ve been needing another pair of hands so that’s the money taken care of,” Kim says all matter-of-fact, like she isn’t saving his life. “Now we just need to find you a place. You can sleep with Danni for now, we have an extra mattress, but the room is way too small for two. And to be honest, we’re too set in our ways to have a man in our home for more than a few days. No offence.”
He shakes his head, feeling so relieved he wants to cry. He’d been ready to sleep on the floor in the storage room if they’d let him. Anything but stepping alone out that door again, into a city that seems far from welcoming.
“Thank you, ma’am. Ma’am,” he repeats, looking at Julie. “You really don’t have to,” his cowed courtesy forces him to add. “I mean, I’m sure I can-” He chokes up, suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of his situation. He doesn’t have any other place to go. He doesn’t even have a home anymore. Not that he ever did.
“Jen, it’s okay.” Danni puts her arm around him and wipes a tear away from his cheek with her thumb. He hadn’t even realized it was there.
“I’m sorry,” he says, hating how weak he sounds. He hasn’t cried in years. He doesn’t get why he’s doing it now, when there’s nothing to cry about.
“You aint’ got nothing to be sorry about, son,” Kim says, patting his hand. “We’ve all been there.” She pauses, her gaze scrutinizing. He can just imagine what she sees. The way he sits hunched over, his shoulders aching from the cold rain. How his skin is stretched just a little too thin over his face. The crooked bend of his left index finger. The bruises around his wrists. The cut above his eye, the shiner, the split lip, the blood that wouldn’t come out of the collar of his jacket. “Maybe not quite there. Your dad?”
His face heats up. He shakes his head.
“His mom’s a psycho bitch,” Danni says and he flinches. He’s never heard her sound so angry. Maybe because they’re finally out of his mother’s reach.
Kim nods while tears glimmer in Julie’s eyes. “Didn’t like her little boy being queer?”
He doesn’t know if Danni told them or if she can just tell. “Didn’t like me. Never, never told her … the other thing.”
“Say it.” He looks up. Julie is watching him with kind eyes. “Honey, you’re safe. Say it.”
He draws in a shaky breath. “Gay. I never told her I’m… I’m gay.” He breathes out a laugh, feeling suddenly elevated.
She smiles. “There you go.”
Present day
He throws a greeting over his shoulder as Alli and Kristen come stamping in, leaving trails of snow that will turn into sludge soon enough. Jensen sighs. He hates days like this when he spends half his time mopping sloppy water off the floor.
At least it’s Friday. He has the whole weekend off and can sleep in as he likes, or as long as Jared will let him. And then there’s Chris and Steve’s party... Jensen adjusts himself, just the thought making his already tight jeans feel even tighter. Last time had been … He doesn’t even have the words to describe it. (Even if Jared had, in his latest manuscript to his publisher. Many, many words. Reading it had made Jensen feel almost embarrassed, something he didn’t think was possible anymore.)
The morning goes by excruciatingly slowly. He’s so used to Jared sitting in the corner booth, working, or more often staring at him all mooneyes, he feels bored and lonely without him. He doesn’t even have customers to bitch about, seems everyone is staying inside because of the weather. Plus, his feet are still cold, the sloppy snow having soaked through his sneakers on his way in this morning. Maybe Jared is right, maybe it’s time to invest in some proper winter boots. They just all look so… boring. He looks down at his beloved rainbow colored glittery Converse sneakers. Now, if he could find some boots that looked like these. Seriously, what’s the use in being gay if you can’t be fabulous?
Okay, he’ll be the first to admit that of all his queer friends, he’s the only real flaming one. Jared looks more like a bodybuilder in his jeans and tight sweaters. And Chris and Steve… Alright, Steve might pass, if it wasn’t for his weird collection of beach shirts, but Chris is like the butchest Texan Jensen has ever met. Okay, he has long hair but he’s also stocky and sort of grumpy looking. Except when he smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he gets this soft look on his face like he just wants to tuck Jensen into bed and feed him soup. Which, to be fair, was mostly what he did the five years Jensen lived with them. That, and other things. Jensen sighs and picks at a cuticle. Sometimes he misses living with Chris and Steve so much it hurts. Even if he has Jared now. It’s just different. Jared is the love of his life, the most important person in the universe to him. Chris and Steve are … family. Honestly, apart from the day he first saw Jared, meeting Chris and Steve was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.
7 years ago
“So, you need a place to stay?”
Jensen looks up from where he’s wiping the counter. There are two guys standing by the door, grinning at him. Well, one stands, the other is hanging off him like a drunk monkey.
“What?” he says, guarded. They’re just about to close. He hadn’t even heard them come in.
The clingy one looks like a surfer, long beach-blond hair and a tan. The other reminds him uncomfortably of a cowboy in his plaid shirt and dark jeans, despite the hair being a bit too long. His suspicion is confirmed when the guy sticks out his hand and introduces himself as Chris Kane, the southern twang evident in his voice. “And this here is Steve. Don’t mind him, he might be high.”
“Okay,” Jensen says slowly.
Chris grins. “Don’t look so scared, kid. Julie sent us. Just so happens we have a room to spare. Plus, we need someone to housesit. We’re going away for a couple of weeks. Touring,” he adds when Jensen just stares at him. “Have some plants that need taking care of.”
Jensen can just imagine what kind of plants. But it’s not like he has much of a choice, he’s been cramping it in Danni’s room for over a week now. He really needs to find a place of his own. And Julie would hardly send just any weirdos his way.
“Okay. Let me just… Just a minute.” He pulls off his apron and glances into the storage room before finding Kim in the back alley, smoking. He keeps his face neutral even if the smell always makes him queasy. “Is it alright if I take off? There are some guys here, they say Julie sent them. About a room?”
“Oh, thank god!” Kim crushes the cigarette with the toe of her boot and shoots him a grin. “Sorry, kiddo. No slight to you, you’re the sweetest boy. I’m just ready for my home to be testosterone free, you know.”
Jensen kinda thinks Kim brings plenty of testosterones herself, not that he’ll ever tell her that. “You know them? They say their names are Chris and Steve.”
“Ah.” Her smile turns a bit crooked. “Oh well, you might as well have the full city experience. No, no, they’re fine. Good boys. Good boys.”
He eyes her suspiciously but she just grins. He follows Kim inside, his suspicion growing stronger from the low chuckle she tries to cover with a cough. “Hiya, boys. Now you be nice to Jensen. He could use a couple of friends.”
“You know us, Kim.” Chris says with a grin. “We’re always nice.”
“That’s what I’m afraid off. Go, go,” she shoos Jensen out the door like he’s a skittish calf. “Let us know if you’ll be home for dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jensen pretends not to hear Chris snort. He might be a long way from his mother’s fist but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten his manners.
“Jensen, eh?” Chris says, looking him up and down as they stroll down the street. “That all, or you got a last name to go with it?” He shrugs when Jensen frowns at him. “Julie just told us to look for the pretty one.”
Jensen can feel his cheeks heating. “Ackles. My name is Jensen Ackles.”
“Texas boy! Now there’s an accent I haven’t heard in a while. You got any bad habits, Jenny? Coke, snuff, whatever? Drink yourself stupid? Bring home big burly bears at all hours?”
Jensen shakes his head. His face feels increasingly hot. “No.”
“Hey, no judging. We’ve got some bad habits of our own. Better get that out there. We drink, we smoke, we like to have sex on the couch. With each other,” he clarifies as if that isn’t obvious by the way Steve is nuzzling his hair.
“Okay.”
“You’re a man of few words, Jensen Ackles. I like it. Now, here we are. Darling, let go. I gotta get my keys.” Chris pushes a protesting Steve off him to reach the keys in his pocket. “Come on up.”
The apartment is small but from what Jensen’s gathered, that’s just how it is in New York, unless you have more money than you know how to spend. He’d been right about the plants. There are more than plenty. The air smells of beer and weed but the place is clean, more or less, and the room they’re offering him has a real bed, a big one, some drawers for the few clothes he owns, and a key in the lock. That’s pretty much all he needs.
“You like it? Good. Great. Come on, sweetheart, let’s sit down.”
He pushes Jensen down on the couch, the only furniture in the living room apart from a sofa table and a TV. Steve is lying flat on the floor, apparently contemplating the ceiling. Chris gives him an affectionate nudge with his foot before planting himself on the couch, close enough that Jensen can feel the heat radiating of him. It seems unnecessary, it isn’t that small of a couch. He starts to shift away but Chris slings an arm in a comradely fashion over his shoulders. A surprised frown is there and gone so fast Jensen can almost believe he didn’t see it. He tenses and waits for the inevitable questions. His shirt may be baggy but close contact can’t hide there’s next to nothing underneath it.
But Chris just tilts his head, thoughtful, and then he smiles, the softest smile, his blue eyes turning warm and kind. Jensen blinks. He breathes out, and a little of the tension melts away. Suddenly he doesn’t feel nearly as anxious.
“About the rent, love. You’ll be basically housesitting the first two weeks, so we’ll wave those. After that … What you make at Chevy’s?” Jensen tells him, and Chris whistles. “Not bad for a first gig. Plus, I bet you get lots of tips, a sweet thing like you.” Jensen blushes and looks away. He does alright. “And you can drink all the coffee you like.”
Jensen shakes his head. “I don’t drink coffee.”
Chris laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Oh man! Seems we've got a lot to teach you.” He gives Jensen’s shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go, only to slap him on the thigh. “Go on, go get your things. We’ll celebrate with pizza, my treat.”
Jensen hesitates. Everything is happening so fast. “But … the rent?” He’d rather know now if he can’t afford it. Even if Chris does intimidate him a little, and Steve is still an unknown variable who hasn’t said a single word yet.
He breaths out in relief when Chris tells him, although it sounds like he just made the number up on the spot. Jensen will still have plenty left for food, and maybe he can buy himself some clothes. The jeans he’s been wearing thin for the last three years are falling apart, same with his t-shirts, other than the black ones Kim makes him wear for work which feel too tight and tell too much. Danni says tight clothes are good for tips, but he doubts people want to see what he’s showing. Plus, he doesn’t like being looked at like that. Pretty or not, he prefers staying under people’s radar.
His stuff fits in the backpack he brought from home. Not like he’d managed to get away with much anyway. Not like he’d had much to get away with. Kim and Julie hug him tight, with Kim slipping a couple of twenties into his pocket while Julie assures him that he’s always welcome back if it doesn’t work out. Danni keeps asking him if he’s sure, asking Kim and Julie if it’s safe, if they even know anything about these guys.
“They’re harmless, honey,” Julie tells her. “Smoke a bit much, but sweet as anything. He’ll be fine. I promise. In fact,” she adds and gives Jensen a smile he doesn’t know how to interpret, “I think they’re just what he needs.”
When he gets back to the apartment, the pizza is there, a movie is playing on the TV, and, when he sits down at the far end of the couch, Steve hands him a beer like he’s an actual adult. Jensen sips it slowly, knowing from embarrassing experience that he gets drunk easily. When they roll a joint and offer it to him, he only hesitates for a moment before taking a drag. Then coughs until his eyes water. They don’t laugh, Chris just shows him how to keep the smoke in his mouth and inhale just a little at a time. After only a few puffs his head is swimming. He tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling. When he looks back down the movie is over and Chris and Steve are kissing. Jensen stares at them, mouth open, his stomach suddenly tight and warm. When the kissing turns into a full make out session, he flees to his room. He lies red-faced, his stomach tight and warm, listening to them going at it like there’s no tomorrow. Feeling stupidly young and naïve despite his eighteen years because he hardly knows enough to even imagine what they´re doing.
Sure, he’s kissed someone (Danni) and dated (Danni, for a week), even had sex once (again Danni, awkward, horrible, never, ever, again sex) before he realized there was no way he could pretend he was into girls. He’s watched porn. Only straight porn with some of the guys in his class, all of them giggling while they tried to hide their boners (not Jensen, the guy in the porno was fat and hairy and had a horrible mustache). His mom never left him alone with the computer long enough to dare look for anything else. The internet was strictly for homework. He’d never even seen two guys kissing before. And the rest … God, the noises they’re making. He has his own hand on his dick under the covers before he knows it, coming without even jerking himself properly off. And then they just keep at it. For hours.
The next morning, when he wakes up, they’re gone.
It’s been two weeks and Jensen is stressing out. Chris never said exactly when they'd be back but then again, he didn’t tell Jensen that they were leaving right away either. To be safe he makes sure to keep everything in order, the floors are always scrubbed, the kitchen is impeccably clean and the bathroom is so sparkly he could lick the bowl if his mother showed up to make him. He frets over the plants, having no idea how much to water them or when. What if he does it wrong and kills them? Plus, he keeps waiting for the police to bang on the door to ask why he’s got a house full of illegal plants. At least he thinks they’re illegal. He doesn’t dare ask Danni or the aunts. What if they’re not supposed to know about them?
Not that it’s been all bad, living alone. He’s made himself comfortable, being able to stretch out on the couch with full control of the TV remote. Just him. No footsteps waking him up in the middle of the night. No doors slamming, no shadows playing on the wall. His own safe place. Even if the noises outside his window at night sometimes make him want to pull the covers over his head.
Truth is, a part of him is dreading them coming back. And not just because the apartment might not meet their approval, (even if it’s way cleaner than they left it.) or because he hates giving up the only privacy he’s ever had. (Frankly, sitting alone all nights, listening to the sound of his own breathing in the empty apartment is not as comforting as he would have thought.) He’s dreading it, because they were so… physical. Overwhelmingly intimate. That first night keeps playing in his head, making his stomach churn, and his chest feel strangely hollow, and then he turns red with shame, because he gets hard, like instantly.
That was one night. How is he supposed to live with that every night, after they get back? He wants to talk to Danni about it, but he feels too embarrassed. Especially after he lied to her, told her he’d been on a date his first weekend, had done some kissing of his own, when the truth is he just needed to get away for a few hours, from Kim and Julie’s obvious love for each other, their obvious love for their niece. The warm loving home he didn’t fit into and knew he would soon have to leave.
The door bangs open, and he jumps up from the couch so fast he feels dizzy and has to sit back down. Chris and Steve shuffle in with arms full of guitars and duffel bags, grinning when they see him. “Hey, you’re home!” Steve announces, sounding almost sober. Seems he does talk.
Jensen nods and stands up again. He’s about to make his excuse and flee into his room when Chris dumps the stuff he’s carrying and walks up to him, pulling him in for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “You miss us, sweetheart?” Then he hands Jensen over to Steve who wraps his arms around him in a tight hug, releasing him with a soft smile when Jensen just stands there, frozen.
He hovers awkwardly as they put away their stuff, the guitar cases propped up against the wall in the living room, the duffel bags thrown into their bedroom.
“Wow, the place looks... Holy shit! Did you clean?” Chris yells from the bathroom. He’s taking a piss. With the door open. Jensen can’t even imagine why anyone would do that.
Steve whistles as he saunters into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “How the hell did you get rid of the mold?”
Jensen doesn’t say, “I just cleaned,” in case they'd take offence. He doesn’t know when they cleaned the fridge last, but he’d found stuff in there that had long moved on from being food into being bio hazard.
Chris comes out, drying his hand on a towel that he throws over the couch before putting his hands on Jensen’s hips, pulling him close. “Darling, we appreciate it but you’re not our maid.”
“I don’t mind,” he says, feeling strange with Chris standing so close, watching him with those sharp blue eyes. “I didn’t know when you’d get back.”
“I tried to call, sweetheart. I just figured you were out, enjoying the nightlife.” Chris gaze is penetrating, like he’s looking for something, Jensen doesn’t know what.
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve just been here. I just… I didn’t think it’d be for me.” He doesn’t know how to explain he was never allowed to answer the phone back home.
Chris’s eyes soften, and he gives Jensen a quick kiss on the cheek before letting him go. “You live here now, love. The phone’s for everyone. But we should get you a cell phone. Steve, you still have your old phone? Steve?”
He pats Jensen amicably on the arm and goes searching for his boyfriend. Jensen uses the opportunity to slip away, the lump in his throat suddenly too big to swallow. They’ve only just met him, and they treat him like … like he matters. They have no idea he doesn’t. That he’s just …. They don’t know.
Jensen’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, when Chris knocks on the door and enters without waiting for an invite. They should probably talk about stuff like that, Jensen thinks, while anxiously watching Chris out of the corner of his eye.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Chris sits on the bed and strokes Jensen’s cheek gently. “We can be a bit much, I know. We just missed you.”
“You don’t even know me,” Jensen says, swallowing.
“Maybe. But we’d like to.” Chris scoots up on the bed and lays down, putting his arm lightly around Jensen’s waist. Jensen tenses, his heart hammering in his chest. He wants to jump up and flee but… the warmth, the gentle pressure… it feels so good, just being touched. “We talked about it. Me and Steve,” Chris continues, his voice low and soothing. “That we’d like to get to know you. Just friends.” He kisses Jensen softly on the cheek “Or, if you want...” He kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth, like a gentle promise of what can be. “Whatever you want, love.”
Jensen’s breath hitches in his chest. He suddenly realizes that what he’d been feeling that night, that first night, lying in bed and listening to them through the door, hadn’t been embarrassment. It hadn’t even been just lust. It had been envy. He’d wanted it. Had wanted them to turn to him, to want him like they wanted each other. He didn’t even lock his door that night, he just realizes. Like he was actually hoping… Oh. That’s why he’d dreaded them coming home. Because he didn’t want to feel that way again, that lonely, jealous sorrow in his chest. But instead of that, he’s here, not alone. Not left out.
He nods and whispers, “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay, love,” Chris says and kisses his cheek again.
He looks up as Steve slips through the door, his smile clearly conveying Jensen’s answer, because Steve comes over to lie on Jensen’s other side, propped up on one arm. Chris raises himself up on his elbow and leans over. Jensen gazes up at them, kissing, inches above his face. They smell like exhaust, and bad coffee, and days on the road with no decent showers. Their long hair is like curtains, enclosing him in an intimate bubble. He lets out a small shaky breath. Chris and Steve pull apart and gaze down at him, which makes him breathe even harsher. All that attention, it’s nerve-wracking. Chris is the first to bend down. His lips are amazingly warm and soft, just like Danni’s were, but Jensen can feel day old stubble rub his chin. He sucks in his breath. This is how it’s supposed to feel. He kisses back, hesitantly, still not sure why they’re doing this. Why they are being so nice to him. Because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s no one. He’s worth nothing, is nothing.
“Sshh, sweetheart. You okay?”
They’re both looking at him with concern. Chris cups Jensen’s face, Steve rubs his stomach, warm hand under his t-shirt. Jensen nods, breaths coming short and sharp through his nose. He couldn’t get a word out even if he tried.
“This okay? We can stop.”
He shakes his head.
“First time? First kiss?”
He nods again, heat blossoming from his chest and up to his ears. It is. It is his first real kiss, because those he clumsily tried out with Danni were pretend, were wrong, were nothing like this.
“Hard to believe, such a sweet thing.” Chris kisses him gently. “Don’t worry. We have all the time in the world.” He rolls out of bed and grabs Steve’s hand. “Come on, darling. Let’s give the boy some space to breathe. We’re gonna order food. Pizza okay?”
Jensen has been living on nothing but leftovers from Chevy’s. Pizza sounds heavenly.
When he comes out of his room a little while later, still shaky but at least not on the verge of tears, the guys are cuddling on the couch. As soon as they see him, they make room between them. He tries to object but they won’t hear it. He sits down, feeling awkward, and hopeful and slightly sick with nerves. Chris strokes his jaw, just enough to turn his head for a quick kiss, while Steve goes to fetch him a beer, rubbing his thigh reassuringly when he sits back down. They eat pizza, drink beer, watch some bad tv and smoke some good weed that has Jensen’s head swimming. And all the while there’s always someone touching him, somewhere. The warmth of a hand, the heat of lips, noses, stubbled cheeks. Thighs pressed against his on each side, arms touching arms.
Jensen hasn’t been touched by anyone but Danni for as long as he can remember. Not counting his mother’s heavy hand. He didn’t know it could feel like this. That people did this. Just… touched each other.
After a while he risks laying a palm against Chris’s cheek. It feels daring, his first own gay venture. Chris leans into his touch, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks… proud. Jensen can’t remember anyone ever being proud of him. And for such a small thing. He hitches his breath, blinking rapidly.
“Hey. No. Come here.” Chris pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him, pressing Jensen’s head to gently rest on his chest. “It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright, love.” They lie there, with Jensen curled up in Chris’s arms, and Steve draped over them, rubbing Jensen’s back until he falls asleep.
Jensen is clearing the corner table, humming absentmindedly under his breath. The last few weeks have been like living in a fairy tale. He wakes up, and Chris sits bleary-eyed in the kitchen, waiting for him with a hearty breakfast that has him so full he can hardly stand up. Kissing him good morning and then goodbye as he heads out. At work Danni and Kim greet him with smiles, and through the day they keep feeding him sandwiches and pastries and make him drink more and more coffee, claiming it’s an acquired taste, he just has to get used to it. So far it’s not working. Around noon Chris and Steve will show up, just to say hi, Chris with kisses, Steve with hugs. Then when his day is over, they’ll be waiting at home - home! - with more hugs, and kisses, and casual touches and warm food for his already straining belly. And then the evenings are spent cuddling on the couch, with more kissing and touching and, one time, Steve slowly jerking him off while he moans and whimpers into Chris’s mouth. God, that had been… He feels his face go hot, and he pushes the thought away. He’s at work, it’s not appropriate to be thinking of stuff like that here.
He turns around with his arms full of dirty cups and dishes and runs smack into a lady carrying a full cup of coffee. It splashes all over her front, and she screams in anger. The crockery strikes the floor with a loud crash, he stumbles back into another table, making the couple’s cups rattle, and one tips over, spilling coffee everywhere. He jerks away, heart hammering, breath coming sharp and shallow. She is screaming at him about her blouse being some design or other, and the guy at the table stands up and grabs Jensen’s arm with a loud, “Hey!”, jerking it hard. Then backs away, mortified, when the arm pops right out of the socket. Jensen sucks in his breath, the familiar pain sharp and terrifying. They’re staring at him, the guy gone pale, the woman momentarily stupefied by the sight of his arm just hanging there, so clearly not where it’s supposed to be.
Jensen pushes past her and flees.
Kim finds him in the storage room, back against the wall, cradling his arm, face pale and sweaty. She crouches before him, looking shaken and worried. “Honey, let me see.”
“It’s okay,” Jensen mumbles. “I fixed it.”
She opens her mouth then closes it again. Then asks quietly, “You done it before?”
He nods.
“More than once?”
He looks away. “Am I fired?” he asks, heart in his throat.
She gently strokes his sweat-matted hair from his face. “Sweetie, why on earth would I fire you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He shakes his head. “She said-”
“That lady’s a fucking bitch. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. And the man who assaulted you is very sorry. Do you want to press charges?”
He stares at her, baffled. “What for?”
“Because he hurt you. And I don’t allow anyone to hurt my staff.”
“It’s just my arm. They pop out all the time.”
“Both?” He shrugs with his good shoulder. “Your mom?” He shrugs again. “Jesus! Honey, go home. Rest your arm, put something cold on your shoulder. Here.” She takes a bag of ice out of the freezer and wraps it up in a clean towel. “I doubt the boys have got peas in their freezer. Or any vegetables for that matter.”
“Chris cooks,” Jensen protests, standing up. It jolts his arm, and he lets out a small huff of pain.
“Yeah? Still, take it. Hold it where it hurts the most. You want me to go with you? Or Danni, I called her, she’ll be here in a minute to take your shift.”
“I’m okay. I can manage.”
“Just make sure not to jostle¬-”
“I know what to do,” he interrupts. He just wants to get away, so she’ll stop staring at him like that.
She smiles sadly. “I guess you do. Go home, sweetie. And don’t come back until you’re okay. I mean that.”
He nods and fumbles with the strings of the apron, feeling embarrassed when she has to help him get it off. She drapes his jacket over his shoulders and gives him a last pet on the cheek. “Let us know if you need anything, okay? And if you change your mind about having it looked at, let me know. We have insurance. You’re covered for injuries on the job, hon.”
He nods even if he can’t see what good it would do. The café is unnaturally quiet when he slinks out of the storage room and hurries to the door. A man quickly stands up, stammering an apology but he can’t deal with that right now, so he just pushes by and out, without looking back.
He’s been at home, sitting on the bed in his shorts and t-shirt with a bag of now soggy carrots pressed to his shoulder, staring out the window for he doesn’t know how long when he hears the door bang open and then Chris is there, out of breath and eyes wide. “Jensen!” He hovers before him, seeming not to know where to put his hands that by now would otherwise have already pulled him in for a hug. “Baby, you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Jensen dismisses, uncomfortable with the fuss everyone is making. “It’s just my arm.”
“Just your …” Chris shakes his head. “Darling, you dislocated your fucking shoulder.”
“I know. It’s no big deal.” He looks away. “Happens all the time.”
“Sweet Jesus." Chris runs his hands through his hair. "Alright, alright. Why don’t you lie down?”
Jensen swallows. “It hurts when I lean back.”
Chris’s face turns soft. “I’ll get you some more pillows. Prop you up all proper like.” The kiss is even gentler than usual. “Wait here, love.”
He comes back with the back cushions from the couch and what looks like all of his and Steve’s pillows. After some modification Jensen is leaning back on a mountain of pillows, sweat running down his temple and breathing heavily. Chris starts to pull off his damp t-shirt but Jensen tugs it down again, feeling too self-conscious, and Chris just says, “Alright. You keep it on for now, love.” He strokes Jensen’s cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you don’t look so good. Didn’t you take anything?”
Jensen shakes his head. His mom never gave him anything, he wouldn’t even know what to take.
“I’ll find you some painkillers.” Chris comes back with a couple of white pills and a glass of water. When Jensen’s swallowed them, Chris sits on the bed beside him, pulls out a rolled-up joint and lights up. He takes a few puffs then hands it over. “To soften those sore muscles.”
When Jensen hesitates, Chris takes a long drag, leans over and kisses him, the smoke seeping slowly into Jensen’s mouth and down into his lungs. Chris pulls back with a smile, sucks another hard pull of the joint and leans over again. At some point the pain melts away, whether from the painkillers or the weed, Jensen’s not sure. Chris keeps on kissing him even after the joint is gone. Just soft, slow kisses, meant to sooth rather than turn him on. But the drug is making his whole body feel hot and weird, and without meaning to he moans into Chris’s mouth.
Chris pulls back, chuckling. “You’re just like Steve, love. Weed always makes him horny.” He kisses him again but with closed lips, shaking his head when Jensen wantonly seeks more. “No, love. Now’s not the time.”
Jensen pulls back, mortified. “Sorry.”
“No, sweetheart. It’s not like that. I wanna make you feel good.” Chris kisses him again. “And I will. We will. When you’re not hopped up on smoke and painkillers.” He slips a hand under Jensen’s shirt, running his fingers along his ribs, stroking down the cavity of his abdomen with his palm. Just light touches, warm skin on skin, loving and soothing. It’s so little and still so big, just being touched by another human being. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. Jensen’s eyelids grow heavy, and he falls asleep to Chris murmuring, “Sshh,” and, “Yeah,” and, “Just relax, love.”
“This okay? You alright?”
Jensen nods. He’s lying propped up in bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt. Chris still has all his clothes on. He’s lying beside Jensen, stroking his hair and kissing his neck, his ear, his lips. Across the room Steve is pulling off his shirt, showing off a nicely muscular tanned chest. He starts to unbutton his jeans, but Jensen must give something away, because Chris says, “Keep’em on, darling. We’re not doing that,” and Steve instantly stops.
The mattress dips when Steve crawls in at the foot of the bed. For a moment he reminds Jensen of a panther, getting ready to pounce on a prey, but then Steve lifts his head and there are the kind, if slightly stoned, eyes Jensen has come to know, the happy smile Steve always seems to have when he looks at Jensen or Chris.
He closes his eyes when Steve’s hot mouth descends upon his crotch, breathing hot air onto the already damp cotton of his boxer briefs. Sucks in a shaky breath as Steve nuzzles at his groin, nudging his dick with his nose. Focuses on Chris’s soothing voice, guiding him.
“Alright if he takes them off, love? Yeah? Just lift… yeah, like that. No, no. It’s okay. Steve, babe, wait. Breathe, love. You wanna stop? No? Okay, we’ll just go slow.” He takes Jensen’s sweaty hand, squeezing it. “Just close your eyes, love, and let us make you feel good.”
He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. It’s what he’s wanted, what he wants, but every time they start, his heart speeds up in his chest, and he can’t breathe. He knows she’s not here, that she can’t see him, can’t reach him, but he keeps expecting her to come banging through the door, screaming, and start hitting him, and he just… panics.
“Sshh, sshh. It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. Slow breaths. Slow breaths.”
“Can we, can we lock the door?” Jensen chokes out.
Chris squeezes his trembling hand. “Sure, sweetheart. Steve, go make sure the front door is locked as well. It’s okay, love. No one’s getting in. It’s just us. You want one of us to leave? It can be just me, or just Steve. Your call. Or we can stop. You want to stop?”
“No. It’s okay. I just … I’m sorry.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “She’s not here, she’s not here, she’s not here,” he whispers under his breath.
“She’s not here,” Chris repeats, and Jensen looks at him startled. He hadn’t realized he’d been saying it out loud. But there’s no mockery in Chris’s eyes, just sympathy and a hint of anger. “She’s not gonna come in here, love. We’re never letting her get to you.” Chris cradles Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him softly. “You’re safe. You’re completely safe. Okay?”
Jensen breathes in, he breathes out. In, out. In, out. He opens his eyes. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Chris strokes his hair. “You sure? You wanna keep going? Alright.” He kisses Jensen again and smiles reassuringly. “Just relax and enjoy. I promise, love, it’s gonna feel so good. Steve, babe, do your magic.”
And, oh my god, it is.
“So what, you’re poly or something?”
Jensen shrugs. His face is uncomfortably hot. “No? I don’t know. I think they’re still them, and I’m just.. an extra, I guess.”
Danni frowns. “And you’re alright with that?”
He thinks of waking up that morning with Chris and Steve on either side of him, arms slung over his waist. Of having to wriggle free to get up to go to work. Of Chris catching him by the wrist and pulling him back down on the bed, kissing him with bad breath and sleepy eyes, until Jensen felt dizzy. Telling him not to forget to eat breakfast, that they’ll come by later, to see how he’s doing. Asking, “You alright, love? Good, good. Now get going, darling, or you’ll be late.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. Doesn’t matter if he’s just an extra, for the first time in his life, someone actually wants him. “Yeah, I am.” He lifts the steaming cup of espresso to his lips, tasting it carefully. Okay, this one is a tiny bit better. Maybe. If he puts a heap of sugar in it.
She tilts her head, studying him. “You look almost happy.”
He shrugs. “I am. I think I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”
“Making coffee?” She laughs as he takes another sip and shudders. Ugh. “You don’t even like it.”
“It’s not that bad,” he lies. “And living with Chris and Steve, I think I’m gonna need it.” He blushes. “They kept me up half the night.”
“You slut!” She jumps up on the counter, gleefully swinging her legs. “Tell me everything!”
Present day
“Oh God! Shut up! I don’t wanna know!”
Jensen pouts. “You always want to know.”
“Yeah, okay,” Danni allows, “but your recaps are getting way too detailed.”
“That’s Jared’s fault. He makes me go over everything we do and then repeat it to him, over and over again. It gets stuck on your brain.” He smirks. “Like last night’s cum in my pubes this morning.”
“Ugh, you’re disgusting.” She looks up as the bell above the door dings. “There’s your boy now.”
Jensen turns around and sure enough, Jared is shaking snow out of his hair, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Darling! We were just talking about you!”
Jared’s face goes deep red. It’s adorable. “Again? Jensen, please.” He allows Jensen to kiss him over the counter, pulling back with an awkward smile when Danni clears her throat. “Sorry.”
Jensen dismisses it with a wave. “Don’t mind her. She’s just jealous because she didn’t get laid last night. Unlike some people I won’t name.” He winks at an unfortunate customer that came in on Jared’s heels. “It’s us. Me and this big man here. We got laid some good.”
“Oh god.” Jared slinks over to his usual place in the corner, that these days always has a ‘Reserved for Jared’ sign on it, covered in glittery hearts.
Jensen grins and starts making Jared’s cappuccino. He might even have another espresso himself. He’s only had two this morning, not nearly enough for his addiction. “Danni …”
“Oh jeez. You saw him two hours ago. Whatever. Go, go. Try and keep it PG-13.”
Jensen wriggles his way between the tables to the back, putting their cups on the table before sliding in beside Jared on the bench. Then he gives him another kiss, longer and deeper that leaves them both flushed. “Didn’t expect you until later,” Jensen says, nuzzling Jared’s neck. “You looked dead this morning.”
“I need to go over the last draft before sending it over.” Jared opens his laptop, stabbing nervously at the keys. “I don’t know, maybe it’s too much.”
“Let me see.” Jensen shifts the laptop over, keeping one hand on Jared’s thigh while he scrolls with the other. He shakes his head. “Babe, he’ll love it. If anyone’s a bigger pervert than us, it’s Jeff.”
Jared huffs a laugh. “It just feels a bit... personal.”
“As opposed to everything else you write,” Jensen mocks lovingly.
“You know what I mean. It was the first time I … we … It was …” Jared sighs, gazing into Jensen’s eyes with such affection, Jensen’s heart stutters. “God, I love you.”
The smile that splits his face is so wide it hurts. “I love you too, baby. So much.”
They kiss again, deep and dirty, and when they finally come up for breath, Jensen feels dizzy. “Okay,” he says, leaning back or he’ll just jump Jared and rip his clothes off, right there, rules be damned. “If you really feel it’s too much, you can always write about the time I lost my virginity. That one’s juicy.”
“Whoa.” Jared blinks. “Uhm… Not to be a downer but first times? Usually not that good.”
Jensen smirks. “I was living with Chris and Steve.”
Jared opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again before closing it shut. Finally, he says, “I don’t know whether to be scared or intrigued.”
“How about horny?” Jensen says, pouting. He thought everything involving him made Jared feel at least a little hot.
“Oh, definitely. But also a bit worried.” Jared pulls Jensen close, wrapping his arms tight around his waist. “Tell me you weren’t high.”
Jensen laughs. “I was not high. It was … Actually, it was amazing. And surprisingly sweet.” He shakes his head. “Forget it, I’ve changed my mind. Jeff can’t have that one.”
Jared nods, kissing his cheek. “How about me, can I have it? If it’s alright with you.”
Jensen looks over at the counter. It’s still quiet, Danni is on her phone, probably just checking her emails. “Okay.” He takes Jared’s hand, kissing the still tender skin over the new rainbow tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the one matching his own. He still can’t believe Jared did that. For him. For them. More than anything it made him believe that Jared wasn’t planning on leaving him, ever.. “So, I’d just moved here, the prettiest little gay boy you’ve ever seen, not a penny to my name, and I needed a place to stay …”
This way to Part 2