Fic: Above the Dust, J2 AU 2/?
His shovel bites shallow into the dry and cracked earth. The sun beats down and the wind blows sand against Jared’s face and hands and sweat runs down his neck and the small of his back. All around him the camp bustles with activity as the rest of the crew sets up tents and stages, gates and rides. He never thought of a carnival as a place to find work but then again digging ditches is about the same anywhere and Jared’s got the build for it. Just lucky that three guys walked off from the show at the last stop to try their luck picking fruit to make an opening for him.
Jeff, the guy who bosses the roustabouts, he says there’s no cash pay until things turn around, but three meals a day of rice and beans and sometimes a little chicken added in is better than what Jared had going before.
It’s hard work and he still aches from the beating he took but better to work for his supper than stand in some bread line or go hungry. Assuming he could even find one this far out from any of the big towns. Gloves would make the work easier but it’s not like anybody has any to loan him and everything Jared had before is long gone now. He sort of wonders if those guys he’d been traveling with always planned to leave him robbed and beaten and left for dead. Maybe stealing all his stuff was just a bonus and the beating spontaneous and all his own fault anyhow for taking that one boy’s smile in the wrong way.
He may be stubborn but he ain't stupid and that’s a mistake he’s made too many times to make again. If he can’t be right he’d better be alone and stop trying to change the way things are before he ends up dead or somebody he cares about does.
He chops at the ground again and makes himself a resolution. Things can be different for him here. A fresh start where nobody knows his shame. He doesn’t figure it’ll be possible for him and a woman to be, well, much of anything besides friends. From what he’s seen of the women in the caravan so far that wouldn’t be much of a problem anyhow. There’s Holly and Molly and he doesn’t think any man would look at them in a womanly sort of way. The “Twig Lady” is a walking skeleton and the knife-thrower’s daughter is married to the geek. He doesn’t have money for the hooch-tent girls and they don’t have time for men who don’t have any money. So nobody’s gonna think of it as weird, him not spending time with any of the women.
All he has to do is watch himself around the men. Not show too much interest or the wrong kind of heat.
Of course Jared’s moment of resolution gets interrupted by a flutter and a thump and there Jensen is, perched on the roof of the nearest truck, such a perfect and beautiful thing, like God’s promise after the flood. He settles himself into a pensive ball, knees against his chest and arms wrapped around them. Wings whiter than anything in this dust-filled world should still be stretch out on either side of him. He’s shirtless and shoeless like the last time Jared saw him. The sweat on his tanned shoulders glows in the noonday sun and his hair shines like a field of ripe wheat back when the harvests were good.
The sight of him puts a thirst into Jared that has nothing to do with water and he doesn’t know if he should smile or say hi or just pretend like he doesn’t see Jensen there at all.
He’s saved from his own indecision by a soft “Hoo!” of greeting as Holly and Molly come up to him. One of them has a tin cup of water and the other a striped stick of candy and they both hold out their little gifts to him. Jared feels a flush of shame for how he’d treated them the last time he saw them. He gets it then. Jensen's not there watching him work. He’s there because the girls are and he doesn’t trust Jared around them.
And for all his tallness and the breadth of his shoulders, Jared’s never had anybody be afraid of him without his meaning for them to be afraid. He doesn’t like the way it feels, like oil and grit in a place that should be clean. He wants that feeling to go away and it isn’t in him to be mean for no good reason so he gives them his best open smile and takes the presents and asks about their day until they’re both giving him shy smiles and sweet giggles.
“Jensen!” a man’s voice hollers and Jared looks over. The tall hat and threadbare suit mark the older man as the owner of the show. Jared had seen a glimpse of him as Jeff gave him the whirlwind tour before the back breaking labor started.
As Jared watches Jensen moves to his feet and then hesitates, looking between the owner and the girls.
“Jensen m’boy, hurry it up, I don’t have all day,” the man calls again.
“I’ll see them back to Sam,” Jared offers because the last thing he wants to be is the reason Jensen gets on the boss’ bad side, even if his face (or more like his wings) are plastered over half the signs and banners for the whole show.
And Jensen looks at Jared like he’s seeing him for the first time and can’t quite puzzle him out before a shy smile flickers over his lips. He turns away then and steps off the roof of the truck, white wings cupping enough air on his way down to soften his landing. He leaves without a backward glance and Jared’s attention is drawn back to Holly and Molly and their wordless attempts to communicate with him.
Jeff, the guy who bosses the roustabouts, he says there’s no cash pay until things turn around, but three meals a day of rice and beans and sometimes a little chicken added in is better than what Jared had going before.
It’s hard work and he still aches from the beating he took but better to work for his supper than stand in some bread line or go hungry. Assuming he could even find one this far out from any of the big towns. Gloves would make the work easier but it’s not like anybody has any to loan him and everything Jared had before is long gone now. He sort of wonders if those guys he’d been traveling with always planned to leave him robbed and beaten and left for dead. Maybe stealing all his stuff was just a bonus and the beating spontaneous and all his own fault anyhow for taking that one boy’s smile in the wrong way.
He may be stubborn but he ain't stupid and that’s a mistake he’s made too many times to make again. If he can’t be right he’d better be alone and stop trying to change the way things are before he ends up dead or somebody he cares about does.
He chops at the ground again and makes himself a resolution. Things can be different for him here. A fresh start where nobody knows his shame. He doesn’t figure it’ll be possible for him and a woman to be, well, much of anything besides friends. From what he’s seen of the women in the caravan so far that wouldn’t be much of a problem anyhow. There’s Holly and Molly and he doesn’t think any man would look at them in a womanly sort of way. The “Twig Lady” is a walking skeleton and the knife-thrower’s daughter is married to the geek. He doesn’t have money for the hooch-tent girls and they don’t have time for men who don’t have any money. So nobody’s gonna think of it as weird, him not spending time with any of the women.
All he has to do is watch himself around the men. Not show too much interest or the wrong kind of heat.
Of course Jared’s moment of resolution gets interrupted by a flutter and a thump and there Jensen is, perched on the roof of the nearest truck, such a perfect and beautiful thing, like God’s promise after the flood. He settles himself into a pensive ball, knees against his chest and arms wrapped around them. Wings whiter than anything in this dust-filled world should still be stretch out on either side of him. He’s shirtless and shoeless like the last time Jared saw him. The sweat on his tanned shoulders glows in the noonday sun and his hair shines like a field of ripe wheat back when the harvests were good.
The sight of him puts a thirst into Jared that has nothing to do with water and he doesn’t know if he should smile or say hi or just pretend like he doesn’t see Jensen there at all.
He’s saved from his own indecision by a soft “Hoo!” of greeting as Holly and Molly come up to him. One of them has a tin cup of water and the other a striped stick of candy and they both hold out their little gifts to him. Jared feels a flush of shame for how he’d treated them the last time he saw them. He gets it then. Jensen's not there watching him work. He’s there because the girls are and he doesn’t trust Jared around them.
And for all his tallness and the breadth of his shoulders, Jared’s never had anybody be afraid of him without his meaning for them to be afraid. He doesn’t like the way it feels, like oil and grit in a place that should be clean. He wants that feeling to go away and it isn’t in him to be mean for no good reason so he gives them his best open smile and takes the presents and asks about their day until they’re both giving him shy smiles and sweet giggles.
“Jensen!” a man’s voice hollers and Jared looks over. The tall hat and threadbare suit mark the older man as the owner of the show. Jared had seen a glimpse of him as Jeff gave him the whirlwind tour before the back breaking labor started.
As Jared watches Jensen moves to his feet and then hesitates, looking between the owner and the girls.
“Jensen m’boy, hurry it up, I don’t have all day,” the man calls again.
“I’ll see them back to Sam,” Jared offers because the last thing he wants to be is the reason Jensen gets on the boss’ bad side, even if his face (or more like his wings) are plastered over half the signs and banners for the whole show.
And Jensen looks at Jared like he’s seeing him for the first time and can’t quite puzzle him out before a shy smile flickers over his lips. He turns away then and steps off the roof of the truck, white wings cupping enough air on his way down to soften his landing. He leaves without a backward glance and Jared’s attention is drawn back to Holly and Molly and their wordless attempts to communicate with him.