Portraits of the Free Life (4/7)
Title: Portraits of the Free Life
Author: silentpoetry1
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jared/Jensen (Jensen/OMCs, Jared/OMCs)
Summary: Jared is a cynical streetwhore who's been living in the underbelly of the city for two years while he saves up to go to college. He's a prominent figure on the streets where most people know not to mess with him. But when some new, naive guy who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing starts hanging around on Jared's turf there's going to be trouble.
Disclaimer: Fiction. Everything within this story never happened and is entirely untrue.
Overall warnings: prostitution, violence, angst, abuse, offensive language.
Author's Notes: This chapter is unbetaed, give me a heads-up if you spot any errors. :) Also, would anyone be interested in me uploading my little mini-soundtrack for this?
Previous
by apieceofcake
Jared pursed his lips when Jensen turned away, down a different street. Jared stopped at its mouth. “Hey, where’re you going? Street corner’s this way, remember?”
Jensen turned around, walking backwards slowly. “I know. I just need’a do something. I’ll catch you soon?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay. Don’t get into any trouble.”
“You know me, I don’t get into trouble.”
No, that wasn’t exactly right, but Jared did know more about Jensen than he did yesterday. “Yeah,” said Jared quietly, to himself. Jensen was already gone down a side street.
He didn’t go to his street corner. He turned right instead of left and wound up past his park, on the way to the city. He followed the dark street down to the end. An apartment building stood there. It was nothing special, just a cruel building in a cruel city, but it was home once. A long time ago. Room six on floor two. Jared had loved this goddamn place.
Jared smiled, self-deprecating, and walked around the side of the building. There was a long ladder around the back that was fucking scary if it had been raining, but that was okay. Jared had been up there countless times. He climbed the gray metal ladder slowly, the veins in his hands sticking out, before hauling himself onto the roof of the building.
When he was just a kid and came up here, he thought that this view was that ‘forever’ thing people always talked about - because you could see outwards, onwards, past the underbelly, and past the suburbs. That was before Jared learned that ‘forever’ was just a fancy word for nothing.
Jared stepped over to the side of the roof, putting a foot up on the low concrete framing. He could hear people blasting rock music and fighting downstairs. It made him think of his parents. The way they used to yell at him, at each other. They yelled and yelled, and then they just got tired. They got tired of his heavy metal phase, particularly disliked when he was all American Hero, despised the lip piercing he had for awhile, and messed him around when he only wanted to save the world.
Jared gazed down at the dirty cityscape. It was strange, this city. Almost like the tall luxury apartments and corporate skyscrapers were shadowing the lower, tainted buildings and people. It was like a solar eclipse that only affected a few miles of the world.
Somehow, and Jared might be a little bias, Jensen was like a little beacon of filtered light in the dark. Faded, though. Just bright enough to stand out. Just bright enough to be wanted.
Jared wanted him.
He sighed and pulled back, kicking at some rubble on the rooftop. The underbelly sinks into your bones after awhile - the darkness of it. Sometimes a little light was all that was needed. But sometimes it took a special person, too.
Jared rubbed at his face and pulled away. He used to be able to stay up here for hours, but not so much anymore. He stepped back over to the side of the building, climbing onto the ladder and descending slowly.
He walked back to his street corner quickly, with a bowed head and his hands shoved in his pockets. The concrete beneath him was cracked. Jensen wasn’t there when Jared turned onto his street, instead there were a few punks hanging out under the streetlight, smoking some American Spirits. Jared furrowed his eyebrows and hunched his shoulders up a little, stepping over to them menacingly.
One of the guys glanced up, noticing Jared’s approach. “Whadd’ya want?” he asked, nudging one of the others with his elbow.
“I want you to fuck off my turf,” said Jared, stopping and towering above their slumped frames.
“Oh, yeah?” spoke up a brunette, “I don’t think so.”
Jared narrowed his eyes and grabbed the guy’s shirt, pulling him up. “Seriously, man, you don’t wanna screw around with me.” Jared released him, letting the guy stumble backwards.
He spluttered angrily, glaring up at Jared once he’d recovered. “You cocksucker, how about -”
Jared’s fist came out of nowhere, hitting the guy square in the jaw. He fell backwards again, this time swearing, his hand reaching up to grab at his jaw. “You bastard!” his friends leapt up off the wall, grabbing at their friend.
“Seriously, get the hell out of here, ” said Jared. The guy eyed him angrily for a few minutes, standing his ground, before letting his two friends lead him away. “Jesus fucking Christ,” swore Jared, waving his fist at the slight pain.
Moving to lean against the wall, he pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He looked up as he was lighting one, catching Jensen standing down the street with a startled expression. Jared frowned, waving his hand a little in Jensen’s direction. Jensen just shook his head slightly, turned around, and walked off quickly.
“Perfect,” said Jared, lighting his cigarette.
That was maybe ‘apathy’ for: oh, goddamnit, what if I scared him?
-
“Spill, where the hell did you disappear to, huh?” Jared said angrily, stepping up beside Jensen as the car drove off.
Jensen looked up, startled. “Huh?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair. “Was it what I did to that guy? ‘Cause I wouldn’t try something like that with you.”
Jensen shook his head absently. “What? No... who were they anyway?”
“Just some streeties. Why did you leave, then?”
“I just had to go see someone,” shrugged Jensen.
“See someone? The same someone you saw this morning? Who is it?”
“It’s just someone.”
“Fuck you, Jensen, tell me who it is!”
“It doesn’t matter! It’s just someone, okay? It doesn’t concern you, so just fucking drop it already.”
Jared looked down at Jensen for a few moments before he sighed and put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “I’ll drop it for awhile, but if it keeps happening, you’re talking. Got it?” Jensen didn’t reply, but his shoulders slumped a little. “Good.”
Jensen looked away, his bright green eyes glazing over a little. It was hard to talk to Jared sometimes. Really hard. Unnerving, even. When he looked back up, Jared was pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. Jensen watched as Jared lifted it to his lips, inhaling the intoxicating toxins. “You smoke a lot,” blurted out Jensen.
Jared glanced up, looking a little startled. Then he smiled a little, meanly. “I’m smoking myself out.”
Jensen gazed at him for a few moments. “That can’t be healthy,” he said eventually.
“You don’t gotta be healthy to live.”
Jensen considered it. “Depends on how long,” he conceded.
Jared shrugged. “Off with you now. There’ll be a guy named Liam waiting for you, down where Don didn’t meet you.”
A blush tinged Jensen’s cheeks. “Okay,” he said. “Should I come back here afterward, or go to the park?”
“Uh, the park.”
“Okay,” nodded Jensen, turning around and strolling down the sidewalk. Some hookers stepped back so he could walk past, but the majority let him detour around them. The street was grimy and dirty as Jensen walked, matching the smeared make-up of its inhabitants.
Once he reached the end of the street he leaned up against a streetlight, his back curved slightly and his lips pouty and slightly open. He stood like that for a few minutes until a dark grey SUV pulled up beside him. Jensen stood up straight, his back cracking a little. He stepped up to the window and tapped on it a few times. “Liam?”
The guy nodded and leaned across, pushing the door open.
Jensen climbed in awkwardly, butterflies alive and clawing through his stomach. Liam was a thin man. He had dirty blonde hair and looked to be in his thirties. He gave Jensen a grin, revealing a silver tooth. Jensen smiled back falsely, encouragingly. “Jared lucked out,” said Liam casually.
Jensen ignored him and looked out the window, a shiver running down his spine. The air-conditioner was aimed at him, blasting out too-cold air and somehow freezing his bones, not his skin.
Liam drove him to a rundown hotel, near Morgan’s area.
Jensen didn’t even cringe when Liam gripped Jensen’s wrist and half-pulled half-led him into the hotel. Liam took charge of everything while Jensen stood back and let him. When he turned away from the guy behind the counter he handed Jensen a couple of twenty dollar bills.
Jensen gave Liam what he hoped was a prize-winning smile and followed the man down the hallway to their room. Inside, Liam shut and locked the door before giving Jensen a look that made him want to yell out for Jared.
He didn’t.
-
Everything was moving when Jensen finally got out. The walls were shoving up against him and the world was an endless spiral. “Nrgh,” groaned Jensen, pressing up against the wall and shutting his eyes. His hip was aching something awful and his stomach hurt.
He could feel sweat dripping down his face. He pushed it away quickly and rubbed at his fuzzy head, trying to erase the cold heatwaves all around him, drenching him in sweat. “Shit,” he whispered, pulling his hands away from his face and stumbling out of the hotel, ignoring questioning voices.
It was better outside. The air cooler - and Jensen could breathe almost properly, instead of those choking half-breaths. He blinked a few times; the streetlights were lined like a barbed wire fence, fading out of focus before sharpening, the light stabbing into Jensen’s eyes. He looked down at his shirt, touching his abdomen. His fingers came back sticky, but he couldn’t see them in the dark.
He couldn’t see anything in the dark.
The light shot through the black, not offering any highlights.
Jensen staggered forwards, keeping his hand pressed to the wet stickiness of his shirt. His mind felt like it was drowning; half-formed thoughts and broken ideas shooting through it. Questions. Ideals. How do I get back’s mixed with Those streetlights look like stars.
Nobody stopped Jensen in the street. They probably thought he was just a junkie, but junkies enjoyed this, didn’t they? Jensen was not enjoying the pain and the confusion and the borderline fear. He half-considered going to someone for help but then he remembered dogs eat dogs and humans might eat humans and Jared probably wouldn’t like it.
So Jensen made his own way back, the world still spinning as though he was throwing his head around. Maybe he was.
He walked with no sense of time, but it was still dark when he finally reached what could possibly maybe be their park.
Moving shadows swallowed up the ground as Jensen wove around them dizzily, shoving through bushes until he found Jared lying half-asleep in their clearing. Jensen stood a few feet away, swaying on his feet. “Hey, Jared,” he said, too loudly.
Jared breathed in sharply, rolling over. “Jensen?” he said, rubbing at his eyes, “Jesus Christ, I was gonna come find you - I must’ve fallen asleep.”
Jensen nodded slowly, furrowing his eyebrows at the pain in the back of his head. The hand he had pressed to his shirt was feeling more wet than sticky now. “I feel funny,” said Jensen, his words slurring together.
Jared’s head snapped up, looking Jensen up and down. “Jensen?” he said cautiously, standing up quickly as Jensen swayed again and putting his hands on Jensen’s biceps. “Hey,” said Jared, losing his permanent cool, “hey - where does it hurt, Jensen?”
Jensen rubbed his forehead and squinted up at Jared. “Huh?” he asked, tightening his grip on his wet patch of t-shirt. He jumped at the sudden pain.
Jared looked down, and let out a light sound of surprise. “Fuck, Jensen, is that blood?” Jensen felt his hand being shoved away from the wet spot. He hissed at the pain.
Jared lifted up Jensen’s shirt softly. “Jesus - that looks bad. He cut you? Oh god. We gotta get you to the clinic.”
Jensen sighed, the air still cold against his exposed stomach and bleeding wound. “Can’t I just go to sleep?” he asked.
“No, you can’t go to sleep, I don’t know what you’ve taken,” said Jared, stepping away and grabbing his bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a t-shirt. “Here,” said Jared, beginning to sound panicked, “hold this against your cut - to stem the blood.”
Jensen obliged, wincing at the pain that the action caused. He felt Jared put his arm around his waist. “I just wanna go to sleep,” complained Jensen as they begun walking slowly, his hip aching excruciatingly with each step.
“You need to get that fixed, Jensen - it’s. It’s really bad,” replied Jared, “I swear you can sleep as long as you want afterwards.”
Jensen sighed and nodded, pain tinging his head. “Okay, Jared.”
“Do you... do you remember what happened?” asked Jared, anger colouring his voice.
“I’unno,” shrugged Jensen. “Money, drink, sex, then I woke up and everything’s fuzzy and I’m hurting.”
“I’m so sorry, Jensen - I thought he was okay. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“S’okay.”
“It’s not okay,” murmured Jared, but he didn’t say anymore, just led Jensen to be fixed.
They didn’t speak at the clinic. Jensen was too high in the emergency room bleeding out and Jared was too busy pacing in the waiting room, horror and self-hatred pooling inside him.
-
Back at the park, Jensen slept with bruised eyes. Jared lay beside him, wide awake and unmoving, as though he was watching over him. He fucking hated himself right then, reaching over to touch Jensen’s blood-stained, stitched-up hip. He would go get that guy that (he gave to) did this to Jensen, if he weren’t so worried.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Jared again. “I know you’ll be okay. You’ll be okay... please.”
Jensen shifted a little, winced and opened his eyes. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’,” he yawned.
“Me, too.”
Jensen sighed. “Don’t start on my account... go to sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Well, you’re gonna be tomorrow. It’ll be hard staying awake on the job.” Jensen yawned again, his nose wrinkling up.
Jared snapped. “What?”
“What?”
“What the hell makes you think we’ll be out on the streets tomorrow?” demanded Jared.
Jensen shrugged tiredly, his eyes slipping shut. “I dunno.”
“Well, we’re not... I might take you someplace if you’re feeling up to it,” he touched Jensen’s stitched-up wound again, frowning at the way Jensen winced away. “Sorry.”
“S’fine.”
“No, I mean it... I’m sorry. I thought he was okay...”
“Yeah,” sighed Jensen, “and it’s fine.”
Author: silentpoetry1
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jared/Jensen (Jensen/OMCs, Jared/OMCs)
Summary: Jared is a cynical streetwhore who's been living in the underbelly of the city for two years while he saves up to go to college. He's a prominent figure on the streets where most people know not to mess with him. But when some new, naive guy who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing starts hanging around on Jared's turf there's going to be trouble.
Disclaimer: Fiction. Everything within this story never happened and is entirely untrue.
Overall warnings: prostitution, violence, angst, abuse, offensive language.
Author's Notes: This chapter is unbetaed, give me a heads-up if you spot any errors. :) Also, would anyone be interested in me uploading my little mini-soundtrack for this?
Previous
by apieceofcake
Jared pursed his lips when Jensen turned away, down a different street. Jared stopped at its mouth. “Hey, where’re you going? Street corner’s this way, remember?”
Jensen turned around, walking backwards slowly. “I know. I just need’a do something. I’ll catch you soon?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay. Don’t get into any trouble.”
“You know me, I don’t get into trouble.”
No, that wasn’t exactly right, but Jared did know more about Jensen than he did yesterday. “Yeah,” said Jared quietly, to himself. Jensen was already gone down a side street.
He didn’t go to his street corner. He turned right instead of left and wound up past his park, on the way to the city. He followed the dark street down to the end. An apartment building stood there. It was nothing special, just a cruel building in a cruel city, but it was home once. A long time ago. Room six on floor two. Jared had loved this goddamn place.
Jared smiled, self-deprecating, and walked around the side of the building. There was a long ladder around the back that was fucking scary if it had been raining, but that was okay. Jared had been up there countless times. He climbed the gray metal ladder slowly, the veins in his hands sticking out, before hauling himself onto the roof of the building.
When he was just a kid and came up here, he thought that this view was that ‘forever’ thing people always talked about - because you could see outwards, onwards, past the underbelly, and past the suburbs. That was before Jared learned that ‘forever’ was just a fancy word for nothing.
Jared stepped over to the side of the roof, putting a foot up on the low concrete framing. He could hear people blasting rock music and fighting downstairs. It made him think of his parents. The way they used to yell at him, at each other. They yelled and yelled, and then they just got tired. They got tired of his heavy metal phase, particularly disliked when he was all American Hero, despised the lip piercing he had for awhile, and messed him around when he only wanted to save the world.
Jared gazed down at the dirty cityscape. It was strange, this city. Almost like the tall luxury apartments and corporate skyscrapers were shadowing the lower, tainted buildings and people. It was like a solar eclipse that only affected a few miles of the world.
Somehow, and Jared might be a little bias, Jensen was like a little beacon of filtered light in the dark. Faded, though. Just bright enough to stand out. Just bright enough to be wanted.
Jared wanted him.
He sighed and pulled back, kicking at some rubble on the rooftop. The underbelly sinks into your bones after awhile - the darkness of it. Sometimes a little light was all that was needed. But sometimes it took a special person, too.
Jared rubbed at his face and pulled away. He used to be able to stay up here for hours, but not so much anymore. He stepped back over to the side of the building, climbing onto the ladder and descending slowly.
He walked back to his street corner quickly, with a bowed head and his hands shoved in his pockets. The concrete beneath him was cracked. Jensen wasn’t there when Jared turned onto his street, instead there were a few punks hanging out under the streetlight, smoking some American Spirits. Jared furrowed his eyebrows and hunched his shoulders up a little, stepping over to them menacingly.
One of the guys glanced up, noticing Jared’s approach. “Whadd’ya want?” he asked, nudging one of the others with his elbow.
“I want you to fuck off my turf,” said Jared, stopping and towering above their slumped frames.
“Oh, yeah?” spoke up a brunette, “I don’t think so.”
Jared narrowed his eyes and grabbed the guy’s shirt, pulling him up. “Seriously, man, you don’t wanna screw around with me.” Jared released him, letting the guy stumble backwards.
He spluttered angrily, glaring up at Jared once he’d recovered. “You cocksucker, how about -”
Jared’s fist came out of nowhere, hitting the guy square in the jaw. He fell backwards again, this time swearing, his hand reaching up to grab at his jaw. “You bastard!” his friends leapt up off the wall, grabbing at their friend.
“Seriously, get the hell out of here, ” said Jared. The guy eyed him angrily for a few minutes, standing his ground, before letting his two friends lead him away. “Jesus fucking Christ,” swore Jared, waving his fist at the slight pain.
Moving to lean against the wall, he pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He looked up as he was lighting one, catching Jensen standing down the street with a startled expression. Jared frowned, waving his hand a little in Jensen’s direction. Jensen just shook his head slightly, turned around, and walked off quickly.
“Perfect,” said Jared, lighting his cigarette.
That was maybe ‘apathy’ for: oh, goddamnit, what if I scared him?
-
“Spill, where the hell did you disappear to, huh?” Jared said angrily, stepping up beside Jensen as the car drove off.
Jensen looked up, startled. “Huh?”
Jared ran a hand through his hair. “Was it what I did to that guy? ‘Cause I wouldn’t try something like that with you.”
Jensen shook his head absently. “What? No... who were they anyway?”
“Just some streeties. Why did you leave, then?”
“I just had to go see someone,” shrugged Jensen.
“See someone? The same someone you saw this morning? Who is it?”
“It’s just someone.”
“Fuck you, Jensen, tell me who it is!”
“It doesn’t matter! It’s just someone, okay? It doesn’t concern you, so just fucking drop it already.”
Jared looked down at Jensen for a few moments before he sighed and put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “I’ll drop it for awhile, but if it keeps happening, you’re talking. Got it?” Jensen didn’t reply, but his shoulders slumped a little. “Good.”
Jensen looked away, his bright green eyes glazing over a little. It was hard to talk to Jared sometimes. Really hard. Unnerving, even. When he looked back up, Jared was pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. Jensen watched as Jared lifted it to his lips, inhaling the intoxicating toxins. “You smoke a lot,” blurted out Jensen.
Jared glanced up, looking a little startled. Then he smiled a little, meanly. “I’m smoking myself out.”
Jensen gazed at him for a few moments. “That can’t be healthy,” he said eventually.
“You don’t gotta be healthy to live.”
Jensen considered it. “Depends on how long,” he conceded.
Jared shrugged. “Off with you now. There’ll be a guy named Liam waiting for you, down where Don didn’t meet you.”
A blush tinged Jensen’s cheeks. “Okay,” he said. “Should I come back here afterward, or go to the park?”
“Uh, the park.”
“Okay,” nodded Jensen, turning around and strolling down the sidewalk. Some hookers stepped back so he could walk past, but the majority let him detour around them. The street was grimy and dirty as Jensen walked, matching the smeared make-up of its inhabitants.
Once he reached the end of the street he leaned up against a streetlight, his back curved slightly and his lips pouty and slightly open. He stood like that for a few minutes until a dark grey SUV pulled up beside him. Jensen stood up straight, his back cracking a little. He stepped up to the window and tapped on it a few times. “Liam?”
The guy nodded and leaned across, pushing the door open.
Jensen climbed in awkwardly, butterflies alive and clawing through his stomach. Liam was a thin man. He had dirty blonde hair and looked to be in his thirties. He gave Jensen a grin, revealing a silver tooth. Jensen smiled back falsely, encouragingly. “Jared lucked out,” said Liam casually.
Jensen ignored him and looked out the window, a shiver running down his spine. The air-conditioner was aimed at him, blasting out too-cold air and somehow freezing his bones, not his skin.
Liam drove him to a rundown hotel, near Morgan’s area.
Jensen didn’t even cringe when Liam gripped Jensen’s wrist and half-pulled half-led him into the hotel. Liam took charge of everything while Jensen stood back and let him. When he turned away from the guy behind the counter he handed Jensen a couple of twenty dollar bills.
Jensen gave Liam what he hoped was a prize-winning smile and followed the man down the hallway to their room. Inside, Liam shut and locked the door before giving Jensen a look that made him want to yell out for Jared.
He didn’t.
-
Everything was moving when Jensen finally got out. The walls were shoving up against him and the world was an endless spiral. “Nrgh,” groaned Jensen, pressing up against the wall and shutting his eyes. His hip was aching something awful and his stomach hurt.
He could feel sweat dripping down his face. He pushed it away quickly and rubbed at his fuzzy head, trying to erase the cold heatwaves all around him, drenching him in sweat. “Shit,” he whispered, pulling his hands away from his face and stumbling out of the hotel, ignoring questioning voices.
It was better outside. The air cooler - and Jensen could breathe almost properly, instead of those choking half-breaths. He blinked a few times; the streetlights were lined like a barbed wire fence, fading out of focus before sharpening, the light stabbing into Jensen’s eyes. He looked down at his shirt, touching his abdomen. His fingers came back sticky, but he couldn’t see them in the dark.
He couldn’t see anything in the dark.
The light shot through the black, not offering any highlights.
Jensen staggered forwards, keeping his hand pressed to the wet stickiness of his shirt. His mind felt like it was drowning; half-formed thoughts and broken ideas shooting through it. Questions. Ideals. How do I get back’s mixed with Those streetlights look like stars.
Nobody stopped Jensen in the street. They probably thought he was just a junkie, but junkies enjoyed this, didn’t they? Jensen was not enjoying the pain and the confusion and the borderline fear. He half-considered going to someone for help but then he remembered dogs eat dogs and humans might eat humans and Jared probably wouldn’t like it.
So Jensen made his own way back, the world still spinning as though he was throwing his head around. Maybe he was.
He walked with no sense of time, but it was still dark when he finally reached what could possibly maybe be their park.
Moving shadows swallowed up the ground as Jensen wove around them dizzily, shoving through bushes until he found Jared lying half-asleep in their clearing. Jensen stood a few feet away, swaying on his feet. “Hey, Jared,” he said, too loudly.
Jared breathed in sharply, rolling over. “Jensen?” he said, rubbing at his eyes, “Jesus Christ, I was gonna come find you - I must’ve fallen asleep.”
Jensen nodded slowly, furrowing his eyebrows at the pain in the back of his head. The hand he had pressed to his shirt was feeling more wet than sticky now. “I feel funny,” said Jensen, his words slurring together.
Jared’s head snapped up, looking Jensen up and down. “Jensen?” he said cautiously, standing up quickly as Jensen swayed again and putting his hands on Jensen’s biceps. “Hey,” said Jared, losing his permanent cool, “hey - where does it hurt, Jensen?”
Jensen rubbed his forehead and squinted up at Jared. “Huh?” he asked, tightening his grip on his wet patch of t-shirt. He jumped at the sudden pain.
Jared looked down, and let out a light sound of surprise. “Fuck, Jensen, is that blood?” Jensen felt his hand being shoved away from the wet spot. He hissed at the pain.
Jared lifted up Jensen’s shirt softly. “Jesus - that looks bad. He cut you? Oh god. We gotta get you to the clinic.”
Jensen sighed, the air still cold against his exposed stomach and bleeding wound. “Can’t I just go to sleep?” he asked.
“No, you can’t go to sleep, I don’t know what you’ve taken,” said Jared, stepping away and grabbing his bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a t-shirt. “Here,” said Jared, beginning to sound panicked, “hold this against your cut - to stem the blood.”
Jensen obliged, wincing at the pain that the action caused. He felt Jared put his arm around his waist. “I just wanna go to sleep,” complained Jensen as they begun walking slowly, his hip aching excruciatingly with each step.
“You need to get that fixed, Jensen - it’s. It’s really bad,” replied Jared, “I swear you can sleep as long as you want afterwards.”
Jensen sighed and nodded, pain tinging his head. “Okay, Jared.”
“Do you... do you remember what happened?” asked Jared, anger colouring his voice.
“I’unno,” shrugged Jensen. “Money, drink, sex, then I woke up and everything’s fuzzy and I’m hurting.”
“I’m so sorry, Jensen - I thought he was okay. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“S’okay.”
“It’s not okay,” murmured Jared, but he didn’t say anymore, just led Jensen to be fixed.
They didn’t speak at the clinic. Jensen was too high in the emergency room bleeding out and Jared was too busy pacing in the waiting room, horror and self-hatred pooling inside him.
-
Back at the park, Jensen slept with bruised eyes. Jared lay beside him, wide awake and unmoving, as though he was watching over him. He fucking hated himself right then, reaching over to touch Jensen’s blood-stained, stitched-up hip. He would go get that guy that (he gave to) did this to Jensen, if he weren’t so worried.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Jared again. “I know you’ll be okay. You’ll be okay... please.”
Jensen shifted a little, winced and opened his eyes. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’,” he yawned.
“Me, too.”
Jensen sighed. “Don’t start on my account... go to sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Well, you’re gonna be tomorrow. It’ll be hard staying awake on the job.” Jensen yawned again, his nose wrinkling up.
Jared snapped. “What?”
“What?”
“What the hell makes you think we’ll be out on the streets tomorrow?” demanded Jared.
Jensen shrugged tiredly, his eyes slipping shut. “I dunno.”
“Well, we’re not... I might take you someplace if you’re feeling up to it,” he touched Jensen’s stitched-up wound again, frowning at the way Jensen winced away. “Sorry.”
“S’fine.”
“No, I mean it... I’m sorry. I thought he was okay...”
“Yeah,” sighed Jensen, “and it’s fine.”