Blue On Black: Part 6
LJ username: renegadeangelz
Title: Blue On Black
Story rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jared/Jensen, Jared/OMC (non-con)
Summary: Obsessive teachers, bi-curious love interests, and the general insanity of a downtown college experience. Nobody said art school would be easy. Jared just never expected it would be this hard.
Warnings: OCs, teacher sexually harassing a student; graphic non-con, angst, hurt/comfort, some language, mild art jargon, mentions of drug use, antidepressants (prozac), violence and blood, murder (no J2 death), vomiting, past relationship, slash- graphic sex between two men
Jared presses into the warmth at his back, stirring with the brightness of the early morning. His eyes snap open feeling breath tickling the back of his neck and he promptly goes flailing off the sofa.
“Mngh, what are you doing?” Jensen grumbles, rolling over onto his side so his back is to Jared.
Jared stares up at the ceiling as the events of last night come back to him. Rape. Concerned Jensen. Being held. They must have dozed off together.
Jared gets to his feet, rubbing at his sore hip as he goes. “Hey,” He pats Jensen on the leg to rouse him. “We fell asleep.”
“When you fell asleep I had the decency not to wake you.” The complaint comes out muffled against the couch cushion.
“Yeah, well, you have class in an hour.”
Jared walks over to the kitchen table and thumbs through the pile of photos resting on it. He recognizes a few of them from that day on the roof.
Jensen gets up from the couch, stretching and then scratches a hand through his hair as he walks towards the kitchen, only succeeding in making the strands stand out in even stranger directions.
“Not anymore.”
“What?”
“They suspended me. You want some coffee?” Jensen asks like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell. Going to the cupboard over the sink for the coffeepot, “Or something to eat? I think I’ve got some eggs in the fridge.”
“They suspended you?”
“Yeah. Nathan reported that I hit him. I’m supposed to go in and plead my case or whatever on Monday.”
Jared feels tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m horrible.”
“Hey,” Jensen sets the coffeepot down on the counter and crosses the room to Jared, arms going around him in a tight hug. He backs off rather quickly when Jared cringes. “You’re not horrible. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t tell me to hit the jackass. Besides who would have thought he’d report me?”
“I could have told you he would. He’s a self-assured bastard.”
“Look, forget about the school and the pricks that work there. Go lie down in the bedroom and I’ll bring you some breakfast, ‘kay?
Jared’s still sore and tired-he thinks he got around three hours of sleep-but he doesn’t move from where he’s standing. He feels too guilty to move an inch. “But you’re supposed to graduate this year…”
“Jared, really, it’s okay. I’ve already got a steady list of clients.” Jensen informs, seeming to understand. “My work speaks for itself. I’ll be fine. Now go lie down.”
“Don’t make food.” Jared says, feeling his stomach turn at the idea of putting anything in his mouth. “I don’t think I can keep it down.”
“Will you at least drink some milk?” Jensen tries.
Milk. It’s supposed to do the body good. All Jared can think is how it’s the same color as semen.
“No.” Jared answers, swallowing against the bile rising up in his throat.
“You wanna just go lie down?”
Jared shakes his head. He’s sure he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep which just kind of makes the whole thing seem pointless.
They end up watching some soap opera, a thin vellum copy of life that Jared feels like he’s a character in.
Jensen gets expelled. Jared feels responsible. He feels selfish for not letting Jensen give the school board an explanation for what happened.
Jared drops out of school two weeks later. He hadn’t been attending classes anyway so it doesn’t feel like much of a loss.
In the following weeks they move into a one bedroom apartment. Jared would have preferred a two bedroom setup but it’s all they can afford, or rather all Jensen can afford since Jared is unemployed now and spends most of his time curled up in bed staring at nothing in particular. He feels dead inside.
Jensen sleeps on the couch. Jared doesn’t want him in bed with him. He doesn’t want Jensen touching him.
Jensen is always there though when Jared wakes in the night tangled in the sheets and drenched in cold sweat. He doesn’t touch Jared. Just sits on the edge of the bed saying things that are meant to comfort.
He doesn’t tell Jensen what he dreams. Doesn’t tell him of the violence he inflicts on Nathan or that for a few moments before he wakes up he enjoys it. Those nightmares leave him shaking harder than the ones where he relives his rape.
Nightmares Jared expected, but there are things that catch him by surprise.
There are foods Jared’s found he can’t eat anymore because of how phallic they seem. Hot dogs, ice cream cones, bananas…
Other times it’s a texture thing. Jared can’t stand the way meat feels against his tongue. The warmth, the ridges in the flesh, is enough to make him throw up. Jensen tries to make sure he eats but Jared’s pretty sure he’s losing weight all the same.
Brushing his teeth is a trigger sometimes. Just the feel of the toothbrush rubbing around in his mouth… He puts off getting a check up from his dentist when the time rolls around. The thought of some guy he barely knows probing fingers into his mouth terrifies him.
A month later and he still hasn’t drawn anything since that day over a month ago. Hasn’t held a paintbrush or detailed a charcoal drawing.
It’s November now. A Monday. The sky outside the window is a cool gray color that Jared has a prisma pencil for. He knows because he’s currently packing that particular set of supplies into a cardboard box.
“So you’re just going to give it up?” Jensen says from where he’s standing just inside the doorway looking into the mess Jared’s room has been reduced to.
“I can’t do it now…” Jared says, pausing in packing his paintbrushes into one of the boxes. “It’s just…it’s gone…”
“So what do you wanna do with all of it?”
“You can toss it, sell it…I don’t care.”
“But…” Jensen looks around at the piles of art supplies waiting for their turn to be placed into a box and he sounds like his heart is breaking. “You love this stuff…”
“Not anymore.”
“You’re depressed right now, but that’ll change.” Jensen reasons. “It’s going to get better.”
Jared resumes packing. “I don’t think it is.”
November slips into December. Snow falls from the sky like the frozen landscape is crying.
Jared goes into a rage and throws things at Jensen simply for the fact he’s there.
Jensen pressing himself into a corner and trying to shield his head with his hands as crockery shatters against the wall inches from his face.
They don’t celebrate Christmas…
Jared blinks his eyes open and stares at the bedroom ceiling. It’s the second week of January. Weekend actually. That doesn’t mean much these days.
When Jared walks into the main room he finds Jensen standing at the kitchen counter. Jensen’s shoulders are shaking and for a minute Jared thinks he’s crying, but when Jensen speaks his voice comes out steady.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Okay I guess.” Jared turns away in favor of finding his laptop.
The computer is in its bag by the couch and Jared fishes it out and sets it up at the kitchen table.
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Jensen slides a plate with chips and half a sandwich onto the table beside Jared’s elbow. “Eat anyway.”
Rolling his eyes Jared eats a potato chip. Staring at the computer screen like a petulant child as he does so. “There. You happy?”
“No.”
Jared pushes back from the table not appreciating the clipped tone to Jensen’s voice. “You know what? Fuck you.”
“Jared… Jared wait.” Jensen tries, sounding apologetic as Jared starts to walk away. He catches hold of Jared’s arm and Jared lurches back against the table so hard it moves an inch across the floor.
Something behind Jensen’s eyes snaps so clearly Jared swears he hears the vibration.
“What the fuck do you think I’m going to do?” Jensen demands. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the kitchen chair he stalks over to the front door and wrenches it open. “I’m not him! I would never hurt you! I love you, you asshole!”
Jensen slams the door hard enough to shake the room, Jared squeezing his eyes shut and cringing at the loud bang. The neighbors are gonna be pissed.
It’s four in the morning and Jensen’s still not back.
Jared sits on the couch worrying his fingers over his mouth and picturing all the horrible and not so horrible things that could be keeping his boyfriend.
He wouldn’t hold it against Jensen this time if he were stepping out on him. It’s not like Jared’s putting out anyway.
Jensen comes home sweating vodka and smelling like cheap cigarettes, eyes red-rimmed like he’s been crying, or maybe that’s the alcohol.
Jared stands as Jensen approaches him not expecting what comes next.
Then a soft warm mouth against his, smell of hard liquor and smoke and Jared jerks back stomach twisting as Jensen twists his fingers in the fabric of Jared’s shirt.
“Jared,” Jensen leans in trying to kiss him again, “c’mon, please…”
Pulling free Jared stumbles back, pressing trembling fingers to his mouth as his heart thunders in his ears. Breathing hard Jared retreats to the bedroom, he pulls his suitcase out from under the bed and starts hauling out the drawers from the dresser that holds his clothes, unceremoniously dumping the contents into the piece of luggage.
Jensen’s standing in the doorway, swaying slightly as he clutches the frame for support, “What’re y’doin’?”
“I’m going back home to San Antonio.”
“What?” Jensen questions, voice breaking. “Look, if this is about the kiss…I’m sorry. I should’ve asked-”
“See that’s the thing.” Jared says, looking over his shoulder as he shakes his head, “You shouldn’t have to ask if you can kiss me. You’re my boyfriend. You should get to be spontaneous and kiss me when you want to. This isn’t working.”
“You walk out on me you’re letting him win.”
Jared straightens. Brow furrowing as he huffs out a disbelieving breath, “I can’t believe you just said that to me…”
“You’re letting what happened come between-”
“You don’t understand. You don’t know how it felt. You don’t know what he said-”
“Tell me then! Make me understand!”
“You can’t understand… You could never understand!” Jared replies, voice rising.
“You think I’m not hurting? Did you forget I was there?” Jensen spits out. He points to his head, hand trembling from nerves or liquor, “Do you think I don’t see what he was doing to you over and over and over again in my head?”
Jared stands frozen, eyes open wide, shocked. Watching Jensen start to cry and not knowing what to do about it.
“I’m always there for you when you have nightmares. I’m there when you get sick to your stomach. I’m there when you need someone to talk to. I’m always there for you. Who’s there for me? Huh?”
Jared can feel his own tears spilling over, silent and wet against the skin of his cheeks.
“I get that you’re hurting! But I’m in pain too! I’d like someone to hold me and tell me it’s gonna get better but you won’t let me touch you! You won’t touch me! And I can’t get any kind of support from someone else because you don’t want anyone to know!” Jensen gestures to himself, voice strained, damp and wrecked, “I am alone! I am so alone! And now you’re just gonna leave me even more…” Jensen trails off. Pressing his palm into his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. Voice cracking like something inside him is broken, “Fuck…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Ignore me… I’m drunk.”
Jared forces himself to step forward till he’s standing before Jensen. He raises his hands shakily, arms settling stiffly around the man. Wrapping him up in what has to be the world’s most awkward hug, Jensen holding himself incredibly still in Jared’s arms.
“It’s gonna get better.” Jared doesn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth but Jensen apparently needs to hear them.
Trembling, Jensen slides his arms around Jared carefully. Like he thinks he’s going to be shoved away suddenly for it and it makes Jared’s heart ache.
“You’re not alone.” Jared promises. Holding Jensen more firmly and trying to convince himself this had felt good once. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
“You haven’t been ‘ere for nearly four months. I miss you.”
“I miss me too.”
Jared wakes the next morning in relatively the same position he’d fallen asleep in. Spooned up behind Jensen, arms wrapped tight around him.
Jared hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw Jensen out of the bedroom when he was so clearly distraught. So even though he wasn’t completely comfortable with it he’d taken Jensen back into their bed, where Jensen had laid in his arms crying like a wounded animal till he’d finally fallen asleep.
Moving carefully Jared shifts his arm out from under Jensen who stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake.
Slipping out of bed Jared makes his way into the kitchen. His laptop is still on the table from when he was using it yesterday and he boots it up and Google’s ‘how to help a witness of rape.’
Jared gets jack shit on the subject. Most of the sites that come up are news articles on someone witnessing a rape and not doing anything or going to jail because they witnessed and failed to report.
A couple of sites do tell him that those who witness a rape are just as likely to develop problems as the person who was physically raped. Possibly even symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder; which after reading the list of symptoms Jared thinks he himself might have.
It doesn’t matter how Jared varies the search terms or where he inserts quotation marks, he still gets the same list of results on his query.
Witnessing a rape was apparently so rare that unless the witness was some sicko standing off to the side taking pictures with his camera phone nobody gave a shit.
Hell, maybe Jared’s missing something or there’s some term that he doesn’t know that would get him the results he wants.
Of course his search on help for rape victims goes much better. Maybe he should just think of Jensen as a victim of rape and take him to one of the crisis centers. There’s one only a short drive from where they live.
Jensen wanders into the room red-eyed and bushy-tongued a little past noon. Jared raises his head from his Google search to watch his shambling approach.
Jensen drops down heavily into the chair across from Jared and lays his head on the table.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having such a hard time?” Jared asks, breaking the heavy silence in the room.
“Don’t get mad at me.” Jensen croaks, facedown on the table, holding his head in his hands. “I had to take care of you.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Then why are you yelling?”
“I’m not yelling dude. You’re hungover.”
Jensen lets one of the hands cradling his head drop onto the table like a dead weight. “I feel like I gargled with a dead possum.”
Shaking his head Jared gets up from his seat at the table. He grabs a clean glass from the dishwasher and an egg from the fridge before turning to the cupboards and rummaging through them. Taking down Worchester sauce, Tabasco, salt, pepper, and vinegar.
Jared feels better doing the simple task. It’s easier to focus on taking care of Jensen than to let himself be taken care of.
He cracks the egg into the glass and eyeballs the amount for the other ingredients rather than measuring them out.
The yellow yolk floating in the puddle of slippery brown liquid looks like the type of thing eight year olds would force each other to drink for initiation into a secret club.
“Here. Drink this.” Jared says setting the concoction down on the table in front of Jensen.
Lifting his head with a grumping sound Jensen reluctantly raises the glass to his lips and drinks it in one swallow, tilting his head back to make the slide down easier.
Thumping the glass down on the table like he’s accomplished something worthy of reward Jensen makes a face that’s so appalled it’s comical and Jared feels something like laughter in his chest for the first time in months.
“Oh my God that’s disgusting.”
Something like amusement pulls at the corner of Jared’s mouth until Jensen drops his head back onto the table with a noise that sounds a lot like pain.
“You okay?” Jared asks, shifting forward.
“M’sore. Been sleepin’ on a couch for over three months.”
Hesitating momentarily Jared clasps his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and starts working the muscle just beneath the skin. Jensen tenses at first then relaxes into it as Jared works out the knots in his body.
“If I get counseling…will you come with me?”
“Yes.” Jensen replies immediately, not lifting his head from the table.
On To Part 7