(no subject)
The Prestige 1/3
SPN RPS Magician AU
R
Jared/Jensen, Jared/Sandy
3,000 and change words
I do not own SPN. I do not own The Prestige. I do not own more than half of this plot. I own nothing, just fyi. ♥
A/N- This is... well, I think we all know what this is. This is me cheating and saying I wrote an au when all I did was mess with the story of the Prestige and stick Jensen and Jared in. Sounds fun to me. This contains spoilers for the Prestige but none whatsoever for Supernatural, so no worries there. Hope you guys like it.
Every great magic trick consists of three acts. The first act is called "The Pledge"; The magician shows you something ordinary, but of course... it probably isn't.
Jared still remembers Sandra's tingling laugh, smile; bright and open like she means it every time he pulls a quarter out of her ear, even if he's done it an endless amount of times.
He still remembers how her eyes sparkle when the applause comes, how she waves, holds herself, all show. He remembers when they would fight, how her lips would press into a straight line, how she would fold her arms over herself as if to protect herself from him. You can't pull an unlimited supply of coins from your sleeves, Jared. He remembers her body, how her small, supple figure fit perfectly with his larger one.
He remembers her, but she's gone now. Vanished into thin air. But, not really.
Jared's twelve, and Olivia Kurtz bats her eyelashes in his direction. She's pretty, has the most adorable dimples, and Tommy nudges Jared and whispers something about that if he shows her, she might kiss him. Jared just wants to see her eyes widen.
He's been practicing his tricks for weeks; illusions and misdirection like it's the air he breathes. Obsession, his mother says, when he comes in late for dinner for the fourth day in a row. She shakes her head, but Jared knows it'll all pay off eventually when she laughs and claps and asks him how on earth he chose the very card she picked from the deck. Jared never tells her, but she chuckles and humours him.
He's been practicing making handkerchief vanish for a few days now, and he's sure he's got it right. Only Tommy, who unfortunately knows his trick from seeing him practice it in it's early stages, gets his secret. He knows he can do it on Olivia. It's ready. It's time.
"I can, you know." he says, winking at her, "I can make your handkerchief disappear."
"Alright, then. Let's have it." Olivia flushes from head to toe as she pulls the pink, lace-lined cloth from her pocket. He takes it from her, and examines it. He waves it around to her friends, shows them that it's a simple handkerchief, says this outloud.
He hands it back to Olivia and instructs her to put it back in her dress. She does so, breathless, watching him.
"Now," he says, voice just above a whisper, "Are you watching closely?" Jared claps his hands once, twice, and before Olivia can blink, Jared knows the cloth is safe, deep in his left pants pocket. He's done it.
"Check your pocket." A crowd has gathered now, and even though everything is an illusion, and his audience is filled with six-years who mostly can't even pass Miss Johannsen's algebra class, Jared's never felt more powerful.
"But, I've only just put it in there."
"Come on, Liv!" a voice calls from the gathered children, "Just check it!"
"Don't be ridiculous, it's right here." Olivia blusters, patting the pocket of her dress.
"Check." Jared insists, raising an eyebrow at the way the crowd titters.
She reaches her hand down, slowly, Jared's sure time's stopped, the moment is dragged out, slow motion. Jared keeps his eyes trained on her face, watching every movement. She reaches in, feels around, and there's confusion, and then realization, and finally, glee.
"It's... it's gone!" She declares, bringing her hand out of her pocket and pulling it inside out to show everyone.
The clapping comes immediately, warmth coursing through Jared's body as they eye him in wonder. Tommy laughs, slapping Jared on the back. "You're in," he whispers.
Olivia's smile is wide as she steps up to him and pecks him on the cheek. "That's wonderful!" She exclaims, slipping her hand into his.
"Thanks," Jared flushes, "it was nothing."
"Bring it back," Olivia smiles, her hand still gripping Jared's, "My mother will kill me if I come home without it."
Jared laughs, reaches around to his back pocket where he had slipped it. His hand reaches out and finds nothing. He feels around.
"Well." a girl shouts, "bring it back!"
Jared's hand fumbles, searches, but there's nothing in his pocket. He flushes for real now, bright red, because it has to be there. He glances at Tommy, looking for the mischievous grin of a kid who's playing a prank on him, but Tommy's eyes are earnest and curious.
"What?" he asks, "Jared? Bring it back." He elbows Jared in the side.
"I..." Jared stammers, "I can't."
The laughter begins then, Olivia's face falls.
"Excuse me?!" An older voice breaks through the titters of the group of twelve-year-old, "Has anyone here lost their handkerchief?"
The crowds part, and an older boy that Jared's never seen before steps calmly through, wolfsgrin firmly in place. His eyes are deep green, his body is slim, and glancing over, Jared notices a bored looking group of tenth-years waiting for their friend to rejoin them.
"I think," the guy says with a wink, stepping up to Olivia, "that I've got something that belongs to you." With a flourish, he pulls her rose handkerchief out of the front of his vest. The gasp from the crowd is audible, and Jared's heart sinks as the older kid tips his hat to the cheers that follow. Olivia's hand slips from Jared's, and moves to cover her mouth in alarm.
"Childsplay." he whispers to Jared on his way by, flipping a coin at him.
Jensen Ackles, the children on the playground all say the next day, is the best magician ever.
He marries Sandra. He knew he would from the moment he'd met her.
"My name's Sandy," she said, her dress sparking in the stagelights, "I do Escape Under Water."
"How long can you hold your breath?" he'd asked, curious to know all the tricks.
She shook her head, giggling. "I can't."
"Come on," Jared insists, "Tell me."
"Not a chance." Sandy says, slinking away from him. She's gorgeous, twenty-years old, voluptuous and happy. She turns before she reaches the wings of the stage, "If I told you, I wouldn't be as interesting."
Yeah, Jared thinks. He's going to marry her.
Jared's sixteen when he goes to work for the Great Danton. He's spent day after day at the show, figuring the man's tricks, calculating what he'd need to do them himself, waiting after the show for a chance to talk to him.
"You've been here every night this week." The Great Danton stops on the way to his carriage one night, turns to Jared and looks down at him. Jared nods, unable to speak, wishing his pants were a little less dusty, that his suspenders were less dull.
"Every night this month." Danton continues, and now Jared feels foolish. He opens his mouth to stammer out a reply, when Danton stops him with a hand. He looks Jared up and down, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. "Come back tomorrow. Come around back. I could use you."
Jared's never been more excited in his life, he barely sleeps, and he misses school the following day. When it's almost a quarter past seven, he slips out of the house and down the street to the theatre. Around back, down the alley, and up to the door.
He stares at it, heart pounding in his chest. Behind the door is illusion, glamour, every secret Jared's ever wanted to know. If he gets through this door, he's in.
He brings a hand up and knocks.
When it swings open, Jared's met with the amused stare of the only person Jared's ever met with eyes that green.
"Well, come on in then." Jensen Ackles says, grabbing Jared's wrist and pulling him through the door.
Jensen wants to know everything about him. He wants to know who the first girl Jared ever kissed was (thanks to Jensen, Jared doesn't ever tell him, it wasn't Olivia Kuntz), he wants to know if Jared swipes with this left or right. He wants to know Jared's parents, how he takes his tea. Jensen wants to know all Jared's secrets.
Everytime they're working backstage, polishing Danton's rings, sweeping the floor, gluing sequins onto something, Jensen asks him a new question. Jared watches his satisfied nod everytime Jared answers one of them.
Jared's not naive; he knows about magicians. A natural magician guards his secrets, keeps himself closed. Sacrifices himself and his personal life for his trade. Telling Jensen, though, telling him things is not like telling secrets. It's like trading them with other magicians. A circle of trust. Jared knows this.
Jensen, Jared thinks, doesn't know this yet. Jensen looks on every question Jared answers, every bit of information that Jared gives up willingly, as a lost battle. A win for Jensen.
The rivalry started a long time ago, but even Jensen is surprised when the friendship sneaks up on them.
Jared cries out in frustration and throws the silver rings to the ground. It's been days, and he still can't do the Ring Lock as well as Jensen can. The metal loops clatter to the ground and roll off the stage, rolling around and around and around before dropping to their sides.
Jensen glances at him from the front row, where he sits reading a book.
"Are you almost finished? Mei-Ling's show starts at the Plaza in half an hour, and we'll never make it in time if we don't leave now." He looks at Jared expectantly, glancing momentarily at the fallen rings.
"I can't do it, Jen." Jared sighs, "I can't get them right. How do you do it?"
Jensen looks at him, blinks. Something flashes through his green eyes for a moment, and he pulls the collar of his jacket up higher. "Keep practicing and you'll get it, Jay. But do it later, we're late."
It's late, well after the lights have gone down on the last act. Jared's had too much to drink, they've been sitting in the pub. Sandy's long since gone home to warm their bed, and the stage hands left an hour ago. There's only Jared and Jensen left, a few ragtag drunks near the back of the bar, and a bartender washing glasses and looking for all the world like he'd rather be somewhere else.
"Marriage isn't for me." Jensen's saying, words slurring together like they're made of honey. "I don't know how you put up with it."
Jared shrugs, slugs back his last mouthful of whiskey. "S'not so bad."
"You can keep it."
The bartender signals to them to get out, he's closing, and he calls the same to the men left in the back, but gets no response. Jared stands, pulls Jensen up with him.
"Come on, Jen," he drawls, "better get you back to your place."
"Not sure I can walk." Jensen says, leaning on Jared and dragging himself off the stool.
They step into the night, cool air washing over them like a revelation, and they make it to Jensen's door in what seems like forever.
"Magic," Jensen says as he steps through the door, "Magic is easy. It's this stuff that's hard."
Jared frowns, leans up against the doorframe, "What stuff?"
"All the pretending." Jensen says softly, and suddenly, they're both sober.
Jared narrows his eyes. "You love pretending."
The air crackles like a current is running between them, the air is thick and blue and electric. Jared breaths in, Jensen breaths out. "Just because I'm better at it than you doesn't mean I like it."
"Then stop," Jared says, stepping up to the doorframe where the older man stands, bracing his hands on either side. "Stop pretending."
Jensen looks at him, Jared holds his breath, and before either of them knows what's happening, Jensen's yanking Jared inside and slamming the door closed behind them.
Jared didn't know until now, didn't know what he was pretending, but when Jensen presses his body flush up against Jared's, it hits him hard. Lust courses through him, and he wants; wants Jensen's cocky smirk wiped right off his face, wants him begging, wants to show Jensen what he's better than him at.
"Come on, then, Jared." Jensen says, breathless, lips kiss-swollen and abused, pulling Jared to him by the waistband of his pants, "Show me." Jared hadn't known he'd said it outloud, but maybe he had.
"Fuck you." Jared breaths, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Jensen's sheets are cream-coloured, ripped and stained; his bed is unmade, his apartment is small and cluttered. Mechanical gadgets are scattered all around the room, dirty dishes, broken pottery, unfinished and failed tricks. It's a bachelor pad, and Jared's really never understood before now.
Jensen's sprawled on the bed, shirtless and panting, staring at Jared like he's afraid Jared's just gotten sober and changed his mind. His chest is heaving, hands loosely at his sides, and Jared's never seen him more vulnerable. He thinks he's in love with this Jensen, this humble, afraid Jensen. He thinks maybe he's gotten past the facade.
Maybe not.
Jared can't help it if he lets out a little growl before climbing onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, ripping the buttons and failing to care. He crawls up Jensen's body and kisses him again, deep, hard, licking his way in and curling his tongue around Jensen's until the older man lets out the sexiest sound Jared's ever heard, low in his chest.
He kisses his way across Jensen's jawline, nipping and sucking, licking and tasting him and Jensen's squirms beneath his ministrations. "Jared," Jensen gasps, "Jare, just."
"Shhh," Jared brings his hands down and locks them around Jensen's wrists, pulling and dragging until they're up above Jensen's head. He pins them together, to the mattress, and looks down, bangs falling into his eyes, sweat shimmering across the surfaces of their exposed skin. All Jared can see are Jensen's eyes, glittering up at him, wide and more truthful than he's ever seen them.
Jensen pulls at his wrists experimentally, half-hearted, and Jared lets out a low chuckle, bites his lip. "Come on, Jensen. Get out of this one. I dare you."
Jared sees the Escape Artist in Jensen flicker across the surface for a moment, before the earnest look is back, and the older man shakes his head. "Don't want to."
Jared falls silent, searches his friend's gaze, and for a moment wonders who Jensen really is. When he leans down and claims his lips with his own once more, he thinks he's finally starting to figure it out.
"You've got to tie that knot tighter," Danton says one night after the show. Jared glances up from straightening bent cage wires. He's never heard Jensen's work criticized before.
"Do you hear me, Jensen? If you don't tie that night more tightly, Sandra will slip and fall before she gets anywhere near the tank."
It's a trick they do every night; their best one. Jared and Jensen sit in the audience, separated, plants. Volunteers are called upon to bind Sandy's hands and feet before she's lifted into the tank and dropped into the deep water, locked in. It's Jensen and Jared's job to make sure the ropes are slippable. I won't tell you the prestige. It would only ruin it. It's their best trick.
"It would go better with a double-overhand." Jensen says quietly, and Jared looks at him.
Danton says what he's thinking for him. "The double-overhand isn't a wet knot. Sandy won't be able to get free."
"I can slip it." Sandy pipes in from the sidelines, "We can practice before hand. I can get out of it."
"I don't want to hear another word about it." Danton says, firmly. "It's too dangerous."
Jared can feel nothing but relief at knowing that Sandy will be safe with the slip knot, but he sees something flash in Jensen's eyes.
"But I can..."
"Jensen." Danton says, more firmly than Jared's ever heard him, "This is my show. Just tie the slip knot tighter."
Jensen mumbles an alright as Sandy shrugs and drops into Jared's lap.
"It's the better knot." Jensen says suddenly. He's lying amoungst crimson sheets, one arm draped over Jared tiredly.
"Hmmm?" Jared shifts and nuzzles in deeper, nosing Jensen's neck. Sandy's working late at the pub, pulling extra shifts for money. Jared forgets when it became normal for Jensen to fill the empty space in his bed on nights like this.
"The double-overhand. It's the knot we should use."
"Jen, just drop it." Jared rolls his eyes and rolls over, hovering inches about Jensen, pressing his lips down softly onto Jensen's. Jensen presses at him, pushes him off.
"I'm trying to make the show better, Jared."
"Sandy can't slip it. It's too dangerous." Jared's thought it through, because yes, while it would be better for lifting, tighter, more convincing, Sandy might not be able to slip it. There's always that chance. And it's not one Jared's willing to take, not even for this. Some things are more than illusion. Some things are real.
"It's always about her with you." Jensen's sitting up now, rolling out of bed.
"Well, yes." Jared hisses, "She is my wife."
"You're right." Pulling on his pants angrily, yanking his shirt over his head, Jensen's at the door before Jared can sit up. "She is your wife." The door slams behind him. Another disappearing act.
Sandy smiles at Jared, before raising her arms above her head. Danton hooks the rope on, and Jared glances at Jensen. He looks happier than he's looked in a while, and Jared likes that.
The crank turns slowly, and Sandy is pulled into the air. She rises above the tank, and the bated breath of the audience is tangible. The lights flicker and dance happily off Sandy's uniform as the sound of the drumroll echoes off the walls and comes back to them. Sandy smiles blindingly, just before she drops, and it's the last time Jared's ever happy again.
She's plunged into the water with a splash.
Jared doesn't hear the frightened screams of the audience, the muffled puck of the axe on the glass. He can't hear his own frantic screams, the loud gasping breaths he's pulling in.
All he can hear Sandy screaming, smothered, drowned out by gallons of water, and a question repeated over and over in his head.
Which knot did he tie?
His life is gone, his love is gone. Illusion, the stage, they all do nothing to fill what's missing. He's never been a magician, like Jensen's always told him. It's not in him. He's not devoted enough, doesn't care.
I hate you, Jared thinks, I hate you. I hate you. He never says it outloud, but Jensen knows it. Must be magic.
The second act is called "The Turn"; The magician makes his ordinary some thing do something extraordinary. Now if you're looking for the secret... you won't find it.
...to be continued.
SPN RPS Magician AU
R
Jared/Jensen, Jared/Sandy
3,000 and change words
I do not own SPN. I do not own The Prestige. I do not own more than half of this plot. I own nothing, just fyi. ♥
A/N- This is... well, I think we all know what this is. This is me cheating and saying I wrote an au when all I did was mess with the story of the Prestige and stick Jensen and Jared in. Sounds fun to me. This contains spoilers for the Prestige but none whatsoever for Supernatural, so no worries there. Hope you guys like it.
Every great magic trick consists of three acts. The first act is called "The Pledge"; The magician shows you something ordinary, but of course... it probably isn't.
Jared still remembers Sandra's tingling laugh, smile; bright and open like she means it every time he pulls a quarter out of her ear, even if he's done it an endless amount of times.
He still remembers how her eyes sparkle when the applause comes, how she waves, holds herself, all show. He remembers when they would fight, how her lips would press into a straight line, how she would fold her arms over herself as if to protect herself from him. You can't pull an unlimited supply of coins from your sleeves, Jared. He remembers her body, how her small, supple figure fit perfectly with his larger one.
He remembers her, but she's gone now. Vanished into thin air. But, not really.
Jared's twelve, and Olivia Kurtz bats her eyelashes in his direction. She's pretty, has the most adorable dimples, and Tommy nudges Jared and whispers something about that if he shows her, she might kiss him. Jared just wants to see her eyes widen.
He's been practicing his tricks for weeks; illusions and misdirection like it's the air he breathes. Obsession, his mother says, when he comes in late for dinner for the fourth day in a row. She shakes her head, but Jared knows it'll all pay off eventually when she laughs and claps and asks him how on earth he chose the very card she picked from the deck. Jared never tells her, but she chuckles and humours him.
He's been practicing making handkerchief vanish for a few days now, and he's sure he's got it right. Only Tommy, who unfortunately knows his trick from seeing him practice it in it's early stages, gets his secret. He knows he can do it on Olivia. It's ready. It's time.
"I can, you know." he says, winking at her, "I can make your handkerchief disappear."
"Alright, then. Let's have it." Olivia flushes from head to toe as she pulls the pink, lace-lined cloth from her pocket. He takes it from her, and examines it. He waves it around to her friends, shows them that it's a simple handkerchief, says this outloud.
He hands it back to Olivia and instructs her to put it back in her dress. She does so, breathless, watching him.
"Now," he says, voice just above a whisper, "Are you watching closely?" Jared claps his hands once, twice, and before Olivia can blink, Jared knows the cloth is safe, deep in his left pants pocket. He's done it.
"Check your pocket." A crowd has gathered now, and even though everything is an illusion, and his audience is filled with six-years who mostly can't even pass Miss Johannsen's algebra class, Jared's never felt more powerful.
"But, I've only just put it in there."
"Come on, Liv!" a voice calls from the gathered children, "Just check it!"
"Don't be ridiculous, it's right here." Olivia blusters, patting the pocket of her dress.
"Check." Jared insists, raising an eyebrow at the way the crowd titters.
She reaches her hand down, slowly, Jared's sure time's stopped, the moment is dragged out, slow motion. Jared keeps his eyes trained on her face, watching every movement. She reaches in, feels around, and there's confusion, and then realization, and finally, glee.
"It's... it's gone!" She declares, bringing her hand out of her pocket and pulling it inside out to show everyone.
The clapping comes immediately, warmth coursing through Jared's body as they eye him in wonder. Tommy laughs, slapping Jared on the back. "You're in," he whispers.
Olivia's smile is wide as she steps up to him and pecks him on the cheek. "That's wonderful!" She exclaims, slipping her hand into his.
"Thanks," Jared flushes, "it was nothing."
"Bring it back," Olivia smiles, her hand still gripping Jared's, "My mother will kill me if I come home without it."
Jared laughs, reaches around to his back pocket where he had slipped it. His hand reaches out and finds nothing. He feels around.
"Well." a girl shouts, "bring it back!"
Jared's hand fumbles, searches, but there's nothing in his pocket. He flushes for real now, bright red, because it has to be there. He glances at Tommy, looking for the mischievous grin of a kid who's playing a prank on him, but Tommy's eyes are earnest and curious.
"What?" he asks, "Jared? Bring it back." He elbows Jared in the side.
"I..." Jared stammers, "I can't."
The laughter begins then, Olivia's face falls.
"Excuse me?!" An older voice breaks through the titters of the group of twelve-year-old, "Has anyone here lost their handkerchief?"
The crowds part, and an older boy that Jared's never seen before steps calmly through, wolfsgrin firmly in place. His eyes are deep green, his body is slim, and glancing over, Jared notices a bored looking group of tenth-years waiting for their friend to rejoin them.
"I think," the guy says with a wink, stepping up to Olivia, "that I've got something that belongs to you." With a flourish, he pulls her rose handkerchief out of the front of his vest. The gasp from the crowd is audible, and Jared's heart sinks as the older kid tips his hat to the cheers that follow. Olivia's hand slips from Jared's, and moves to cover her mouth in alarm.
"Childsplay." he whispers to Jared on his way by, flipping a coin at him.
Jensen Ackles, the children on the playground all say the next day, is the best magician ever.
He marries Sandra. He knew he would from the moment he'd met her.
"My name's Sandy," she said, her dress sparking in the stagelights, "I do Escape Under Water."
"How long can you hold your breath?" he'd asked, curious to know all the tricks.
She shook her head, giggling. "I can't."
"Come on," Jared insists, "Tell me."
"Not a chance." Sandy says, slinking away from him. She's gorgeous, twenty-years old, voluptuous and happy. She turns before she reaches the wings of the stage, "If I told you, I wouldn't be as interesting."
Yeah, Jared thinks. He's going to marry her.
Jared's sixteen when he goes to work for the Great Danton. He's spent day after day at the show, figuring the man's tricks, calculating what he'd need to do them himself, waiting after the show for a chance to talk to him.
"You've been here every night this week." The Great Danton stops on the way to his carriage one night, turns to Jared and looks down at him. Jared nods, unable to speak, wishing his pants were a little less dusty, that his suspenders were less dull.
"Every night this month." Danton continues, and now Jared feels foolish. He opens his mouth to stammer out a reply, when Danton stops him with a hand. He looks Jared up and down, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. "Come back tomorrow. Come around back. I could use you."
Jared's never been more excited in his life, he barely sleeps, and he misses school the following day. When it's almost a quarter past seven, he slips out of the house and down the street to the theatre. Around back, down the alley, and up to the door.
He stares at it, heart pounding in his chest. Behind the door is illusion, glamour, every secret Jared's ever wanted to know. If he gets through this door, he's in.
He brings a hand up and knocks.
When it swings open, Jared's met with the amused stare of the only person Jared's ever met with eyes that green.
"Well, come on in then." Jensen Ackles says, grabbing Jared's wrist and pulling him through the door.
Jensen wants to know everything about him. He wants to know who the first girl Jared ever kissed was (thanks to Jensen, Jared doesn't ever tell him, it wasn't Olivia Kuntz), he wants to know if Jared swipes with this left or right. He wants to know Jared's parents, how he takes his tea. Jensen wants to know all Jared's secrets.
Everytime they're working backstage, polishing Danton's rings, sweeping the floor, gluing sequins onto something, Jensen asks him a new question. Jared watches his satisfied nod everytime Jared answers one of them.
Jared's not naive; he knows about magicians. A natural magician guards his secrets, keeps himself closed. Sacrifices himself and his personal life for his trade. Telling Jensen, though, telling him things is not like telling secrets. It's like trading them with other magicians. A circle of trust. Jared knows this.
Jensen, Jared thinks, doesn't know this yet. Jensen looks on every question Jared answers, every bit of information that Jared gives up willingly, as a lost battle. A win for Jensen.
The rivalry started a long time ago, but even Jensen is surprised when the friendship sneaks up on them.
Jared cries out in frustration and throws the silver rings to the ground. It's been days, and he still can't do the Ring Lock as well as Jensen can. The metal loops clatter to the ground and roll off the stage, rolling around and around and around before dropping to their sides.
Jensen glances at him from the front row, where he sits reading a book.
"Are you almost finished? Mei-Ling's show starts at the Plaza in half an hour, and we'll never make it in time if we don't leave now." He looks at Jared expectantly, glancing momentarily at the fallen rings.
"I can't do it, Jen." Jared sighs, "I can't get them right. How do you do it?"
Jensen looks at him, blinks. Something flashes through his green eyes for a moment, and he pulls the collar of his jacket up higher. "Keep practicing and you'll get it, Jay. But do it later, we're late."
It's late, well after the lights have gone down on the last act. Jared's had too much to drink, they've been sitting in the pub. Sandy's long since gone home to warm their bed, and the stage hands left an hour ago. There's only Jared and Jensen left, a few ragtag drunks near the back of the bar, and a bartender washing glasses and looking for all the world like he'd rather be somewhere else.
"Marriage isn't for me." Jensen's saying, words slurring together like they're made of honey. "I don't know how you put up with it."
Jared shrugs, slugs back his last mouthful of whiskey. "S'not so bad."
"You can keep it."
The bartender signals to them to get out, he's closing, and he calls the same to the men left in the back, but gets no response. Jared stands, pulls Jensen up with him.
"Come on, Jen," he drawls, "better get you back to your place."
"Not sure I can walk." Jensen says, leaning on Jared and dragging himself off the stool.
They step into the night, cool air washing over them like a revelation, and they make it to Jensen's door in what seems like forever.
"Magic," Jensen says as he steps through the door, "Magic is easy. It's this stuff that's hard."
Jared frowns, leans up against the doorframe, "What stuff?"
"All the pretending." Jensen says softly, and suddenly, they're both sober.
Jared narrows his eyes. "You love pretending."
The air crackles like a current is running between them, the air is thick and blue and electric. Jared breaths in, Jensen breaths out. "Just because I'm better at it than you doesn't mean I like it."
"Then stop," Jared says, stepping up to the doorframe where the older man stands, bracing his hands on either side. "Stop pretending."
Jensen looks at him, Jared holds his breath, and before either of them knows what's happening, Jensen's yanking Jared inside and slamming the door closed behind them.
Jared didn't know until now, didn't know what he was pretending, but when Jensen presses his body flush up against Jared's, it hits him hard. Lust courses through him, and he wants; wants Jensen's cocky smirk wiped right off his face, wants him begging, wants to show Jensen what he's better than him at.
"Come on, then, Jared." Jensen says, breathless, lips kiss-swollen and abused, pulling Jared to him by the waistband of his pants, "Show me." Jared hadn't known he'd said it outloud, but maybe he had.
"Fuck you." Jared breaths, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Jensen's sheets are cream-coloured, ripped and stained; his bed is unmade, his apartment is small and cluttered. Mechanical gadgets are scattered all around the room, dirty dishes, broken pottery, unfinished and failed tricks. It's a bachelor pad, and Jared's really never understood before now.
Jensen's sprawled on the bed, shirtless and panting, staring at Jared like he's afraid Jared's just gotten sober and changed his mind. His chest is heaving, hands loosely at his sides, and Jared's never seen him more vulnerable. He thinks he's in love with this Jensen, this humble, afraid Jensen. He thinks maybe he's gotten past the facade.
Maybe not.
Jared can't help it if he lets out a little growl before climbing onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, ripping the buttons and failing to care. He crawls up Jensen's body and kisses him again, deep, hard, licking his way in and curling his tongue around Jensen's until the older man lets out the sexiest sound Jared's ever heard, low in his chest.
He kisses his way across Jensen's jawline, nipping and sucking, licking and tasting him and Jensen's squirms beneath his ministrations. "Jared," Jensen gasps, "Jare, just."
"Shhh," Jared brings his hands down and locks them around Jensen's wrists, pulling and dragging until they're up above Jensen's head. He pins them together, to the mattress, and looks down, bangs falling into his eyes, sweat shimmering across the surfaces of their exposed skin. All Jared can see are Jensen's eyes, glittering up at him, wide and more truthful than he's ever seen them.
Jensen pulls at his wrists experimentally, half-hearted, and Jared lets out a low chuckle, bites his lip. "Come on, Jensen. Get out of this one. I dare you."
Jared sees the Escape Artist in Jensen flicker across the surface for a moment, before the earnest look is back, and the older man shakes his head. "Don't want to."
Jared falls silent, searches his friend's gaze, and for a moment wonders who Jensen really is. When he leans down and claims his lips with his own once more, he thinks he's finally starting to figure it out.
"You've got to tie that knot tighter," Danton says one night after the show. Jared glances up from straightening bent cage wires. He's never heard Jensen's work criticized before.
"Do you hear me, Jensen? If you don't tie that night more tightly, Sandra will slip and fall before she gets anywhere near the tank."
It's a trick they do every night; their best one. Jared and Jensen sit in the audience, separated, plants. Volunteers are called upon to bind Sandy's hands and feet before she's lifted into the tank and dropped into the deep water, locked in. It's Jensen and Jared's job to make sure the ropes are slippable. I won't tell you the prestige. It would only ruin it. It's their best trick.
"It would go better with a double-overhand." Jensen says quietly, and Jared looks at him.
Danton says what he's thinking for him. "The double-overhand isn't a wet knot. Sandy won't be able to get free."
"I can slip it." Sandy pipes in from the sidelines, "We can practice before hand. I can get out of it."
"I don't want to hear another word about it." Danton says, firmly. "It's too dangerous."
Jared can feel nothing but relief at knowing that Sandy will be safe with the slip knot, but he sees something flash in Jensen's eyes.
"But I can..."
"Jensen." Danton says, more firmly than Jared's ever heard him, "This is my show. Just tie the slip knot tighter."
Jensen mumbles an alright as Sandy shrugs and drops into Jared's lap.
"It's the better knot." Jensen says suddenly. He's lying amoungst crimson sheets, one arm draped over Jared tiredly.
"Hmmm?" Jared shifts and nuzzles in deeper, nosing Jensen's neck. Sandy's working late at the pub, pulling extra shifts for money. Jared forgets when it became normal for Jensen to fill the empty space in his bed on nights like this.
"The double-overhand. It's the knot we should use."
"Jen, just drop it." Jared rolls his eyes and rolls over, hovering inches about Jensen, pressing his lips down softly onto Jensen's. Jensen presses at him, pushes him off.
"I'm trying to make the show better, Jared."
"Sandy can't slip it. It's too dangerous." Jared's thought it through, because yes, while it would be better for lifting, tighter, more convincing, Sandy might not be able to slip it. There's always that chance. And it's not one Jared's willing to take, not even for this. Some things are more than illusion. Some things are real.
"It's always about her with you." Jensen's sitting up now, rolling out of bed.
"Well, yes." Jared hisses, "She is my wife."
"You're right." Pulling on his pants angrily, yanking his shirt over his head, Jensen's at the door before Jared can sit up. "She is your wife." The door slams behind him. Another disappearing act.
Sandy smiles at Jared, before raising her arms above her head. Danton hooks the rope on, and Jared glances at Jensen. He looks happier than he's looked in a while, and Jared likes that.
The crank turns slowly, and Sandy is pulled into the air. She rises above the tank, and the bated breath of the audience is tangible. The lights flicker and dance happily off Sandy's uniform as the sound of the drumroll echoes off the walls and comes back to them. Sandy smiles blindingly, just before she drops, and it's the last time Jared's ever happy again.
She's plunged into the water with a splash.
Jared doesn't hear the frightened screams of the audience, the muffled puck of the axe on the glass. He can't hear his own frantic screams, the loud gasping breaths he's pulling in.
All he can hear Sandy screaming, smothered, drowned out by gallons of water, and a question repeated over and over in his head.
Which knot did he tie?
His life is gone, his love is gone. Illusion, the stage, they all do nothing to fill what's missing. He's never been a magician, like Jensen's always told him. It's not in him. He's not devoted enough, doesn't care.
I hate you, Jared thinks, I hate you. I hate you. He never says it outloud, but Jensen knows it. Must be magic.
The second act is called "The Turn"; The magician makes his ordinary some thing do something extraordinary. Now if you're looking for the secret... you won't find it.
...to be continued.