Masterpost Two hours later, Jared desperately wants to offer comforting hugs to the landlord and one unfortunate guy who happened to be Jensen’s upstairs neighbor that fell asleep forgetting to turn off the water at the kitchen sink.
Who does that? How can you forget such things? Jensen demands, and Jared only silently agrees with him as the poor neighbor is one step away from bursting into tears.
Jared can’t get rid of the feeling that he was the one to rile Jensen up in the first place, but he prefers to keep his mouth shut.
The thing is that Jensen doesn’t even have to scream to make people squirm; he just speaks in an emotionless-clipped tone that delivers his opinion of what kind of morons they are.
Jared can’t help but feel responsible for Jensen.
In the end, he bribes Jensen with the promise of helping him clean the apartment and come back tomorrow, since it will be Saturday, to deal with the landlord regarding the repairing of the apartment.
When Jared leans down to deliver his promise only for Jensen to hear, he puts his hand on the small of Jensen’s back.
And it shouldn’t mean a thing, but Jensen lets out a heavy sigh and allows Jared drag him downstairs, Jared’s hand sliding off him. Jared blinks for a moment; unexpected feeling of loss kicking him in the gut, his chest tightening like he’s missing something.
Two pairs of eyes escort Jared with gratefulness, but Jared is wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice.
Later, when they clean the mess in the kitchen as best as they can manage and unpack a third of the boxes (Jared insists on unpacking DVD’s to watch later as their reward), dropping their bodies on the couch, Jensen forces his legs to travel to the fridge and back.
He hands Jared a bottle of beer when he returns, flopping down next to him, and pops open his own beer bottle.
They click their bottles together in mutual agreement and take long swigs of their beers.
Jared feels Jensen’s gaze on him and tilts his head to look at Jensen. There’s nothing unusual about the way Jensen looks at him, green eyes and easy smile, but there’s something alarming about it, and Jared can’t decide if it has to do with the unexpected warmth that fills him or the disturbing intensity of Jensen’s stare like he’s trying to figure Jared out.
Jared’s mouth runs off without consulting with his brain first.
“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Jared quotes, and the next moment, he wonders, where the hell did that come from?
Jensen raises his eyebrow and levels him with a steady look.
“Casablanca?” Jared supplies.
“I know the movie, man.” Jared can practically feel Jensen restraining himself from rolling his eyes, giving Jared a dubious look. “I just don’t think the reference is relevant.”
“Oh,” says Jared, realization forcing him to hide his eyes in his lap and trying to sink deeper into the couch. “I mean- sure, I didn’t-”
“Jared,” Jensen says his name insistently, and Jared has no choice but to look at him. “I was joking.”
Jensen adds a small reassuring smile to his words and Jared smiles in answer before he has time to think.
“Don’t be that trustworthy.” Jensen says, and he somehow manages to sound detached and insisting at the same time.
Jensen keeps looking at him as if expecting Jared to change his mind on the human race in general or on Jensen.
But Jared can’t give him that, especially not when it comes to Jensen.
Jared has one more day in his pocket that Jensen is not aware of.
Jared nudges Jensen’s shoulder with his own, careful of the beer bottles in their hands, “I’ll make sure you stick by my side to protect me from mean people.”
Jensen looks at Jared for a moment before turning away, face unreadable.
A shadow of uncertainty flickers across Jared’s face. He doesn’t know if he should act differently around Jensen in regards of losing the one day with him. Jared doesn’t think he can.
The next moment, Jared lets the feeling go and pokes Jensen in the shoulder lightly. “C’mon, be a good host and start entertaining me already. Be here for my entertainment. Do as Adam says.”
“Adam? Adam who?” Jensen turns his frowned gaze at Jared.
“Adam Lambert. Man, we need to work on your pop-culture references,” Jared shakes his head.
Jensen folds his arms, giving Jared a stern look. “How old are you exactly? Should I expect you to quote Justin Bieber next time?”
Jared gives him an incredulous look, tightening his lips as his grin tries to break onto the surface, “Justin Bieber, huh? And you don’t know who Adam Lambert is. Okay. Cool.” Jared pointedly looks around the apartment. “So, tell me which one of these boxes hides Bieber’s CDs.”
Jensen meaningfully unfolds his arms to give Jared a very expressive middle finger, “One day, Jared. One day, you’ll fall asleep and will wake up bald, and I will be standing with the scissors in my hand.”
Jared lets out a very girly squeal, arms flying to his hair, “My perfect locks? I knew you envied my hair.”
“Shut up or there’ll be no more beer and movie for your childish ass to watch,” Jensen threatens.
Jared motions to lock his lips and throw the invisible key away.
“That’s better.” Jensen scolds and bends down to reach for the stash of DVD’s.
Jensen’s shirt rides up, and Jared’s gaze falls on the patch of exposed freckled skin.
Jared’s stomach tightens up, and he forces himself to look away.
“Okay, Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?” Jensen’s voice is muffled, head bent down and Jared’s brain can’t function properly, forcing himself to not look, turning away from the teasing pale skin.
“Lord of the Rings.” Jared almost groans. For God’s sake, just get up already.
“Okay.” Jensen moves to put the disc in DVD player, and Jared swallows, letting out a sigh of relief.
Jensen flops back on the couch and asks matter-of-factly, tilting his head towards Jared, “Do I need to hold your hand during the scary moments?”
“Asshole,” comes Jared’s elegant answer.
Jensen smiles way too sweetly, “You woo me with your classiness.”
Jared feels as something soft touches his skin.
He opens his eyes, blinking, and he notices green eyes of Jensen and blue blanket he covers Jared with.
“Hey, go back to sleep,” Jensen says quietly, and Jared happily obliges, closing his eyes, mumbling, “okay”.
Jared intends to add “thank you”, but he passes out.
Jensen never had family or friends, never knew how to make any, never needed one precisely.
His job is his life. His priority is to surround himself with people who can be useful; otherwise, he doesn’t see any point in starting a new connection.
From Jensen’s perspective, Jared is a job. Jensen should get close to him, and this is exactly what Jensen is doing.
He might be navigating blind around Jared, as he never put himself that close to someone, and he didn’t expect his personal space to be invaded that quickly. But Jensen has theoretical knowledge of relationships and theory always guides practice, not the other way around.
Jensen can roll with that.
Jared wakes up to the sun blinding him. He groans and turns onto his other side, wondering when his bed got so narrow.
The next moment, he jolts upright on the couch, sitting up, blanket sliding down, and he finds himself in Jensen’s apartment, blinking away his sleep.
There’s the rustling sound coming from the kitchen, and Jared frees himself from the blanket, standing up and sleepily padding towards the sound, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Jared leans against the doorframe, blinking at Jensen in jeans and white T-shirt hovering over the coffee machine, wondering how he can look so fresh and perfect.
Jared doesn’t mind watching Jensen for a few moments as his mind starts slowly waking up, letting the giddiness from seeing Jensen spread over his body.
Unfortunately, Jensen is a very bad person.
“Morning. How long should I pretend that you stomping into the room didn’t alert me of your presence?” Jensen turns to face him, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.
“You are a bad person,” Jared informs him miserably. He is not awake enough to come with something adequate.
“Drink this,” Jensen says absentmindedly, shoving coffee into Jared’s hands. “I’ll make some toast.”
Jared blinks down at the cup in his hands, “Okay. I can do that.” He inhales the coffee and lets off a satisfied sigh, before taking a large gulp.
“Peanut butter or cream cheese?” Jensen asks without turning back, rummaging in the fridge.
“Peanut butter,” Jared confirms happily, taking another sip of coffee, and feeling much better. He steps closer to Jensen, nudging him with a shoulder, and starts watching the process of toast making.
Jensen stops and glances up at Jared sternly, a bread knife in his hand, “Go and take a seat at the table.”
“Why? I can help!” Jared whines, wounded, his hand with a cup flying, which ends with coffee spilling on the floor.
Jensen looks at the floor in accusing silence before shifting his meaningful gaze at Jared. “Come again?”
Jared narrows his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh to purposely point out what he thinks on the subject, before starting to clear the mess with the paper towels Jensen provides him.
After, Jared complies, obediently taking a seat.
When Jensen hands Jared a plate with toast, Jared’s mood lifts up. He eyes the toast, asking Jensen in exuberant voice, “How come you are so generous?”
“My purpose is strictly self-serving,” Jensen notifies in a flat tone, placing another plate with toast on the table, “I need to feed you in order to put you in a fight against my neighbor and landlord. Remember?”
“You are such a mean person. I am precisely an exploited party in this relationship,” Jared informs him, happily munching on the toast.
When three hours later they leave one happy landlord and one blissful neighbor behind, despite Jensen getting everything he was demanding, Jensen keeps sneaking suspicious glances at Jared.
They move inside Jared’s apartment without saying a word as if it was discussed on a mute level.
“I need to get some sleep,” Jared groans, falling face down on the couch, legs dangling off it.
“So,” Jensen says, and Jared tilts his head to look at him, eyes heavy, “I think the only thing that stopped them from proposing to you is your bad taste in friends.”
Jared scratches his nose and grins at him, “Let me translate this into ‘Jared, you are such a good and sweet guy. Every person you meet falls in love with you. Thank you for becoming my friend and helping me even though I am the Grinch.’” He finishes dramatically.
Jensen comes to sit on the couch and offhandedly throws Jared’s legs off it, “I think I forgot to tell you today how much I hate you, sugarpie. Don’t let it get lost on you.”
Jared launches upright and throws himself at Jensen, long arms enveloping Jensen’s waist, and wails, “You say the sweetest things, my love.”
“Get off me,” Jensen protests, unsuccessfully trying to brush Jared off him. “You are impossible. You and those long limbs you have.”
“There, there.” Jared clumsily pats Jensen’s shoulder in comfort and uses his thigh as a pillow, shifting to get comfortable on the couch, “Now hush. I want to sleep, or I’ll force you into singing me lullabies.”
Jensen calls Christian the minute he slips inside his apartment.
“I waited five unnecessary seconds. Now, let’s talk.” Jensen starts conversation, not bothering for faking politeness.
Christian’s voice gets mocking, “Are you reflecting a grumpy dwarf today, or am I imagining things, Ackles?”
“You’re imagining things,” Jensen helpfully supplies, no sign of humor in his voice as he pushes the button of coffee machine. “Now, when will I get my sweet beautiful bug as I was so reassuringly promised?”
“Tomorrow. You will get it tomorrow.” Christian confirms and pauses as if waiting for Jensen to respond. “Thank you is the answer you are looking for, Ackles.”
“No shit.” Jensen mutters and adds grudgingly, “Thank you.” He glares at the coffee machine as if ordering it to brew coffee faster.
“Wow. I am overwhelmed.” Chris comments dryly, but lets it slide; keyboard’s clicking sound overheard in the background. “How is the asset doing?”
Jensen shrugs it off with indifference, “You way too invested in my life, Kane.”
“Does it mean there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“He’ll get his present in time if that’s what you’re worrying about.” Jensen says absentmindedly, sipping his coffee.
The clicking sound stops, and Chris sounds slightly interested when he asks, “And you’re okay with that?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jensen replies, genuinely puzzled.
Jared and Jensen fall pretty quickly into a routine without acknowledging the fact.
They each have their own apartment, but every day it’s either Jared banging on Jensen’s door, shouting something like, “delivery guy dropped by. Indian people, your American friends came bearing gifts,” or Jensen swinging open Jared’s door with, “I hate your stupid face, but the beer isn’t gonna drink itself.”
Jensen is currently working at home and hunting for a steady job as a programmer, and although Jared doesn’t know a thing about programming, he highlights programmer vacancies in local newspapers with a red marker, before handing them to Jensen.
Jared likes when both of them have quiet evenings, elbowing each other until they settle on the couch, usually sharing more personal space than Jared is comfortable with other people, but they somehow just fit and fall into the right slots and places, and if some part of one is tangled with another’s, there’s nothing to worry about.
Jensen is not the world’s most decent person. Sometimes, he’s not decent at all. He likes to comment on people’s stupidity, sometimes in front of the same people.
He doesn’t find it insulting; he’s being honest as he begrudgingly admits.
But the two of them find a way around it as well. Jared coughs every time Jensen says something rude to someone, and Jensen quickly offers “sorry” without a hint of remorse on his face or in his voice, but people should not expect more of him. He’s trying, and that’s what counts in Jared’s book.
Besides, he is some kind of genius. Jared like to watch Who Wants to Be a Millionaire on TV just to hear Jensen give the correct answers to all the questions, even though Jensen finds the questions poor and inept and the topic of the host is forever prohibited as Jared never wants Jensen to list out each one of 98 reasons why the host is a condescending, brainless moron. Ever again.
Also, Jensen thinks he’s always right. Most of time he is, so Jared lets it pass.
Jared remembers handing Jensen his apartment key six weeks after their first meet-up, and Jared doesn’t even remember the reason of it, just that Jensen has asked. It was a valid reason.
The next day, he finds an unknown key wrapped in a pink ribbon tied on the bow on the hall table with a card next to it, “open the door with me, Alice.”
Jared laughs and crosses the hallway to open Jensen’s door, pink ribbon hanging off the key, and he catches Jensen trying to tuck away a blue bow into the drawer.
Jensen doesn’t look even mildly embarrassed, using his green eyes and huge grin against Jared, “I think pink suits you better.”
“You are the Cheshire cat in this scenario, and I’m not even surprised,” Jared shakes his head lightly, chuckling.
Jensen doesn’t like to give many thoughts to feelings. But he likes them.
He likes to observe them, inspect them, study how people stuffed with feelings like Christmas turkey can be poked and analyzed for the purpose of doubting their feelings until they burst.
Jensen learns from feelings. He knows them; they help him to get to know people better.
He knows what arched eyebrows or a flirtatious smirk mean and what to tell a person with hands curled into fists to push him further or make him back away.
In the case of Jared, he is a basket full of colorful feelings, different ones, sometimes two or three combined simultaneously and each one is crystal clear for understanding. Jared is transparent.
But if Jensen had to describe Jared in one word, he’d go with real. This is what makes him the only person to stand out in a gray crowd.
What Jensen is charmed with the most is investigating Jared’s feelings, examining how every word Jensen says affects Jared is some way; it is alluring.
Whenever it starts - with a frown when Jensen speaks his opinion on the world and its values or with worry when Jensen tells people the truth they’re too weak to admit themselves, or even with ducking his head when Jensen says something nice to Jared, it always ends one way - with Jared’s bright and soft smile.
Jensen keeps holding onto that constant and worries if this is not a permanent foothold.
He knows his job might be taken the wrong way by Jared, and it gives him displeased wrinkles around the corner of his mouth when he thinks about that.
It’s not Jared’s fault that he thinks the other way. He is not aware how the world works. He doesn’t know human’s real nature.
Jensen is here to make sure nothing goes wrong.
Even if Jared has to be protected from himself.
Sometimes, Jensen likes to watch other people affecting Jared to submit more information and fill the holes in Jared’s data, but after capturing the first reactions, it gets boring. They don’t seem to affect Jared as deeply as Jensen does.
Decisively, they don’t deserve Jared’s attention much and can be shrugged away by Jensen as they don’t value little details Jared subconsciously uses to color his interactions with them, like scratching his wrist when he gets uncomfortable or rubbing the back of his neck when he is confused.
However, there’s one thing about Jared that makes Jensen worry, that Jensen isn’t comfortable with.
Every person Jensen comes across is included on the table he has in his mind. The collected data on every person can be filtered through two factors: job category or other category. Other category applies to people Jensen has to interact with besides his work.
And Jared messes with Jensen’s table. He is worrisome, not adequate.
Jared falls under two categories at once with an exceptional additional category Jensen had to create: Jared category. Because Jared takes so much space in Jensen’s life that Jensen doesn’t know how to label him.
This Jared category bothers Jensen. It’s not unpleasant; it’s a statement of fact after all. It’s just worrisome.
Jared’s days off start with Jensen’s sleepy smile and tousled hair while Jared is already busying in Jensen’s kitchen, brewing him three consecutive cups of coffee. It changes into Jensen beating him in Mario, eyes crinkling and Jared calling him a “cheating cheater who cheats”, after, dissolving into Jensen ordering in or cooking them something delicious that also smells fantastic to remind their stomachs that there is food besides pizza.
Jared likes to pin post-it notes onto their fridges as sometimes he forgets things Jensen asks him to do.
Jensen eyes the first post-it note suspiciously but ends up being the one adding 80% of notes to Jared’s fridge collections as, in point of fact - and Jensen generously delivers this information to Jared - Jared has a tendency to forget most of the things people inform him about. Jared insists this is genetic and is another reason for Jensen to cherish him as someone unique and outstanding.
Occasionally, the only post-it note that is patiently waiting for Jared is “I’m your last post-it note. Look at me. Memorize me. Buy me.”
Sometimes, Jared falls asleep in the middle of a Scrubs marathon which has started because Jensen lost a bet, and it’s without doubt, Jensen’s duty to take pictures of Jared drooling on Jensen’s shoulder to blackmail him into buying a six-pack of beer. Jared threatens to feed Jensen a taste of his own poison, camera waiting for its chance, and Jensen smirks at him, “bring it on, bitch.”
When they say goodnight at the end of the day, there’s this weird, awkward feeling that Jared doesn’t know how to get rid of. Something is off. Maybe, it’s the time or the little things that surround them, but it always shakes the comfort zone they share.
Jared tries to come up with new ways to say goodbye, which sounds weird in his head, but in reality, it’s a pretty accurate description. Sometimes, he speaks faster or slows his speech down, taking pause for Jensen to say the words first, but it still doesn’t work.
They say goodbye, glancing awkwardly at each other and hide in their apartments.
Sometimes, Jared catches himself looking at Jensen longer than necessary, eyes caressing his features, warmth filling Jared when Jensen laughs that genuine laugh of his, but it’s okay, they are friends. Jared guesses it happens with some people, and before his brain can dig further, Jared immediately drops the subject.
One November day, when the cold starts biting and Jared stops opening their windows, Jared decides that they need to go out and been seen by other people as well.
Jensen blames modern TV and Chad.
Jared comes into Jensen’s apartment and flops down on the couch, placing his legs in Jensen’s lap and sighing dramatically, while Jensen’s gaze remains fixed on the grocery list in his hands, pen in his mouth, frowning down at it.
Jared sighs pointedly one more time.
Jensen unwillingly tears his gaze away to give Jared his full attention, “Chad says we need to go out more, or we’ll turn into the old cat lady.”
“We don’t have cats,” Jensen reasonably points out, hoping to end this discussion and go back to his list.
Jared doesn’t seem supportive, hands flapping as he rushes into explanation, “Still, I want us to have a dog later, not cats. Maybe we should discuss this with our landlord. I don’t want us to have to move into a house. This will suck. Don’t forget, we have a good park near here to walk our dog. And the rent is good. I don’t want us to move into the suburbs, I like it here.”
Jensen swiftly puts his hand on Jared’s ankle, “Jared, concentrate.” Jensen doesn’t see the value in pointing out how ridiculous this all sounds because Jared is ridiculous and impossible most of time.
“Right.” Jared shuts up and thinks for a moment, thoughts going back to the initial topic of this conversation, “I have a plan for going out day. I have a map and everything.”
Jared shifts to pull a paper with the drawn lines out of his grey UFC hoodie, and Jensen recognizes the handwriting, gaze turning worried, “You drew this map?”
Jared can get lost on the way to the market even if Jensen told him the direction and asked him to repeat it after. Jensen knows from experience.
“Yes.” Jared beams at him.
“Why don’t I trust it?”
“Relax,” Jared moves to bring their foreheads together - legs sliding off Jensen’s lap - for them to stare at the piece of the paper as Jared’s index finger pokes at the dots, “This map involves the book store, pet store and cinema.”
Jensen intends to ask, “what?” and “why?” and finally “no”, until Jared adds, “And, we need to find a new pan for making pancakes.”
“You remembered?” Jensen’s eyebrows fly up in amusement and delight, face close enough for Jared to feel puffs of air coming with each word.
“This makes it our official attention grabber line,” Jared mumbles guiltily, looking down to pull out yellow post-it note out of his jeans.
Jensen recognizes his own handwriting, “Who destroyed the pan by scrubbing? Jared. Who should buy another pan? Jared.”
Jensen glares at Jared, and Jared throws himself at Jensen, enveloping him, as if it can change Jensen’s opinion on the matter.
This is how Jensen finds himself forced into spending their day.
Jensen sits on the passenger’s seat, changing radio stations to the songs he wants to hear; after all, it’s the least Jared can do. Jared drives and hums along to the songs.
Jensen looks at the Jared, at the sun rays lightening his dark brown hair into something reddish, and blurts out, “Redhead Jared.”
Jared turns his neck to smile at him fondly without saying a word.
Jensen catches understanding in his eyes, and he wonders if all people who spend large amounts of time together have a tendency to understand even crazy thoughts of each other.
The small bookstore on the corner of the street - five blocks from them - smells like the old, fascinated books Jensen likes get lost in.
Jared tugs at Jensen’s sleeve the minute they enter the bookstore, “They have a computer section here. I called, and they promised they had some rare books you’d like.”
Jensen can find anything he wants on-line, but nothing can replace the feeling of a real book, feeling the weight of in his hands, the smell of the pages.
Jensen grabs two books from the shelf and explains the value of each one to Jared, turning the pages to pick the most interesting parts and read them, chanting praises to the authors, and mocking some unfortunate readers who are too dense to appreciate them.
Jared grins at Jensen fondly the whole time and doesn’t even attempt to remind him of politeness. No reader is present here to be insulted anyway.
After, they move to another aisle - Jensen’s fingers around Jared’s wrist guiding them - and one book catches Jensen’s eye. Jensen steps up to it, and Jared has no other choice but to follow him.
Jensen’s fingers drop Jared’s in favor of tracing of the book when he catches Jared’s eyes. Jared just looks at him, slightly leaning into his side and waiting patiently until Jensen is ready to explain. Jensen smiles to himself. These small, rare things make Jared the guy Jensen doesn’t mind spending all his time with.
“This is Dickens’ David Copperfield. I loved to read it when I was a kid.” Jensen carefully pulls the book out and opens it, turning the pages deliberately.
“Can you read me something?” Jared’s request surprises Jensen, and he finds himself in an odd position where he doesn’t mind following it.
Jensen curtly nods, lips tightening as he tries to hide the nervousness Jared’s words evoke. It seems personal, like he’s crossing the line, but there’s nothing uncomfortable in the way Jared watches him with a familiar, soft smile on his lips.
Jensen easily finds the first line and clears his throat before he speaks firmly, “Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show”.
They’re silent for a moment, and there’s a weird flip-flop in Jensen’s chest that he tries to cover by putting the book back into its place.
Jared’s fingers cover Jensen’s fingers, stopping his action, and together they end up pulling the book back off the shelf.
“We’re buying this,” Jared is quiet but certain, and Jensen nods, not raising his eyes to meet Jared’s gaze before a sudden thought hits him. “What did you like when you were a kid, Jared?”
“Transformers,” and Jensen tilts his head to catch Jared’s embarrassed smile, “I liked Transformers.”
Jared lets Jensen pay for all his books, but he glares at Jensen when he intends to pay for David Copperfield and snatches the book out of Jensen’s grasp, pulling out his wallet.
They leave the book store, and Jared shrugs his blue backpack off his shoulder to carefully stuff all the books inside, while Jensen inspects Jared’s map trying to find their next destination.
“Pet store!” Jared exclaims helpfully, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, and pointing at another dot on the map.
They spend almost an hour in the pet store where Jared looks for a puppy who will become theirs as soon as they are ready.
Jensen doesn’t bother to think about how his job and Jared’s plans for their future fit together since he doesn’t see any reason for upsetting Jared in the moment, taking into account that Jared buying a potential dog has a slight chance of happening at all.
Jared’s prep period implies having meaningful conversations with all the puppies, cooing over them and giving each one of them a name, while Jensen clings to Jared’s backpack, staying apart and pretending he is not with Jared.
Judging by a girl behind the counter who keeps giving them both funny looks as if they’re her favorite celebrities, Jensen is pretty much failing at his attempt.
“Jared,” Jensen finally prods, a mix of desperation and annoyance in his voice, trying not to shift under girl’s somewhat adoring gaze.
“We will definitely come back later. Try not to miss me,” Jared announces to the puppies, and Jensen is convinced the girl is one moment away from swooning.
“Thank you for letting me speak to the puppies-,” Jared shifts his attention to the girl and reads her nametag, “Carol.”
“You are so welcome,” she smiles at them hugely.
Jared gives Jensen that look that translates into “say something nice”, and Jensen bites inside of his mouth before letting out, “Thank you. Bye.”
Jared gives her warm goodbyes that will compensate not only for Jensen’s but the whole city’s discourtesy, and they finally leave.
They drive toward a cinema, and somehow Jensen doesn’t object when Jared lets the band Death Cab For a Cutie sing from the stereo with Jared beating the rhythm out on the steering wheel.
When the song ends, Jared squeezes Jensen’s knee in silent thank you, and Jensen turns his face to the window to hide his grin.
Jensen prefers to not wonder why the simple things Jared does make Jensen feel light headed and uneasy at the same time.
When they reach the small cinema, Jensen intentionally doesn’t comment on the movie Jared chose. He lets Jared buy the tickets and covers a big bucket of popcorn and colas himself.
The theater is almost empty, it’s cool and dark inside, and as Jensen sinks into the black and white life of Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman; his mind gets focused, seeing things in a less complicated and clearer perspective.
When the end credits roll up, Jensen bends the line to his own liking, referring to the two of them, “this was the beginning of beautiful friendship.”
However, it doesn’t come as dangerous and threatening to Jensen as he thought it would.
Jensen doesn’t need to turn his head to know that Jared beams at him.
They do forget to buy the pan though.
Jared has more than two months without people crying for his help, and maybe he’d worry the other time, but now, he has time with Jensen to lose and it makes him worry about this aspect, about messing up the one good thing he has in his life because his destiny is fucked up.
Besides, no one had asked him if he wanted to be a hero in a first place. So.
Sometimes, Jared wonders if he should share his secret with Jensen, if it is unfair to not share it with Jensen, but Jensen is the part of his life that is bright and sunny and is far away from the deaths. Jared is not willing to risk his bond with Jensen.
Megan calls him when he’s surfing Amazon for The West Wing DVD’s to buy because Jensen loves the show, calling it brilliant and clever, contrary to other shows that jeopardize the unstable minds. Plus, Jensen doesn’t like many things, which explains Jared’s decision to buy complete series of the show.
Megan goes straightforward after she says “hello”. “So, update me on your sexual encounters.”
“Why?” He asks, while he eyes the screen, clicking the mouse, not bothering to be surprised as her words have a tendency to turn out even more inappropriate.
She doesn’t disappoint him, “Because since your ex, I-made-the-top-of-the-nauseating-lovers list, Zach, left the building, there’s nothing embarrassing to blackmail you.”
“That’s why you were smiling at him all the time and whispering into my ear that he was hot?” He finds the right item and puts it into his shopping cart.
She sighs, suffered, “I was being polite, don’t punish me for that. He was creepy. All medical students are creepy, they like to look at human organs, just poking inside your body with their creepy fingers, and just-,” she makes a disgusted sound into his ear, “ugh”.
“I was a medical student, Megan.” Jared points out dryly.
“You are different.” She shrugs his statement off with a confident tone of her voice.
“How come? Because I was honored to be born as your brother?” There are references to other shows made by the creators of The West Wing, and he contemplates an idea of buying them as well.
“No, because you are a geek. Geeks are just plain boring.”
“Thanks for such a thorough insight of my life.” He adds Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip to his cart as well.
“I can feel sarcasm there, Jared. Do you think I don’t? You’re hurting my feelings.” She patters before she makes a pause to take a breath, “Tell me about that neighbor of yours you keep rambling about.”
“I didn’t ramble about him. I just mentioned him to you once.” Jared corrects her and searches for other shows of Aaron Sorkin. Just for future reference. He likes to be prepared.
“The two times you called, you were mentioning him throughout the whole talk.” She specifies.
“This is unnecessary. Why are you so invested in this? It’s just there was nothing exciting to talk about.” He shrugs and wonders when is the polite time to end this conversation and place an order.
“Does this mean that my brother has grown up and finally managed to find someone exciting?” Obviously, it’s not this moment as Megan acts like a dog with a fresh bone.
“Why do you have to perv over all the good things I have in my life?” Jared asks, incredulous.
“Good things?” She repeats in that soft, indistinctive and alarming tone she borrows sometimes, and Jared frowns, predicting with an anxiety some trouble, “Good then.”
That makes even less sense, and Jared intends to kindly point it out but then, as a good brother that he is, he lets it slip.
Furthermore, he has an order to place.
One afternoon, Chad informs Jared that they’re going for the drinks.
“Come and bring your neighbor friend and, apparently, the love of your life. We’re gonna be socializing. I need a confirmation that he isn’t your imaginary friend or some ghost you hide in your apartment like Cordelia did.”
Jared gives him a confusing look, “Cordelia?” before the first part of Chad’s offer sinks in.
“Chick from Angel.” Jared is still stuck on love of his life, so Chad’s clarification goes unnoticed, “Whatever. I’ll stop by at eight-ish. Suit up and prepare to get wasted.”
Jared intends to protest, “he is not the love of my life,” and comment that this was a daft joke for Chad come up with, but the words get stuck in his throat.
Part Three