We Carved Our Love In Oak: Part 3
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As the afternoon drags on and the road rolls on beneath their tires Jensen starts to feel hot and sleepy, and compensates by drinking a couple of cans of Red Bull. They stop for a late lunch and early dinner in a tiny town called Earthside Grove and relax in the sunshine, getting to know Chad better.
“I had a girl,” he says, once there’s a large plate of fries on the table, and they’re all picking at them. “Kenzie.”
Jared gives him a genuinely sympathetic look and asks, “What happened?”
“She found out I was sleeping with Maria,” Chad says, seemingly unfazed as he shovels more fries into his mouth.
“Oh,” Jared says and Jensen grins, not sure there are more than five times he can remember Jared being at a loss for words.
“That generally happens, dude,” Jensen says. The wind blows across them, cool and refreshing, and the air smells sweet, of cut grass and honeysuckle. “You know, when you’re in a relationship with someone and you cheat on them. You’re gonna get dumped.”
“I’ll get her back,” Chad says. “Nobody can stay away for long.”
“Maybe you’ll find a new girl in LA,” Jared says.
“If not, you can always pay,” Jensen offers and Jared kicks him under the table while he tries to bite back a smile.
Chad levels his eyes at Jensen. “Was that humor? Did you joke?”
Jared laughs and leans forward. “Jensen’s a prissy princess, but don’t let him scare you. He’s nice, really.”
“Jay,” Jensen grumbles. “Stop spilling secrets. You’re ruining my image here, man.”
Jared rolls his eyes, fond, and shoves a couple of french fries into his mouth.
After finishing lunch they use the restroom and stretch their legs before heading back to the truck, Jensen back behind the driver’s seat again.
They continue their long drive and don’t stop properly for hours, only occasionally to stretch their legs, and for Jensen to smoke and load up on Red Bull.
As dusk falls and the night approaches, Jensen feels hyped and buzzing, Chad and Jared relaxed and tired beside him.
"How much farther?" he asks.
Jared pulls out the maps and a flashlight and traces his finger over roads and railways trying to find out where they are.
"About... Five-hundred miles?"
“Jesus Christ,” Jensen says, hands gripping the wheel. “Five-hundred more miles? We can do that. We can do that today.”
“Uh, Jensen?” Jared says, folding the map away. "Do you want me to drive?”
“No,” Jensen says. His heart is racing in his chest, ready to thump its way out. “Maybe.”
“How many Red Bulls have you had?” Chad asks, popping a can open for himself.
“Four, recently. In a row. Didn’t - uh. Realize how the caffeine would affect me.”
“Um,” Jared says. “Maybe pull up soon, Jensen. Sleep beneath the stars again, tonight.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jensen says.
They keep driving for fifteen more minutes before pulling up to a small, dusty parking lot by a State Park, where there are only a couple of other cars and a camping ground.
Jensen parks up and Jared goes to pay the fee to stay the night.
“I just need to take a piss,” Jensen says, and hops out of the truck to head to the toilets to relieve himself.
Once he’s done he jogs back to the truck, where Jared and Chad are making a campfire, and Jensen finds some dry leaves and twigs to use as kindling, before getting his lighter out and starting it.
It’s not long before the fire is burning, the branches and twigs crackling as they turn to ash. They relax on the dry earth, drinking beers and talking quietly in the dusk.
"What are you gonna do when we hit LA?" Jared asks, poking their small campfire with a stick. It crackles and smokes and the embers spit and rise into the air.
"Lots of shit," Chad says. He takes a gulp of his beer before replying. "Meet girls, have lots of awesome sex, do some drugs, some rock and roll. What about you guys? Minus the girls bit, of course."
Jared frowns at him and Jensen snorts, can't help the laughter that bubbles out of him. Jared looks at Jensen, still with the same confused look on his face, before turning back to Chad.
“Why minus the girls?”
Chad narrows his eyes at them. “What, you’re into kinky shit? Threesomes?”
Jensen watches Jared’s expression until it finally breaks into a grin and he throws his head back, laughing with his entire body.
Chad looks it him warily and takes a sip of beer.
“Jared isn’t gay,” Jensen says. “And we’re not together.”
"Fuck off," Chad says. He looks between them, squinting. "Wait, seriously?"
“Uh, seriously,” Jared nods, grinning.
“Huh,” Chad says. “You have the whole bromance thing going on.”
Jensen doesn’t want to see Jared’s reaction to that, and instead concentrates on poking the fire.
“Understandable,” Jared says. “I mean I do love Jensen. We’re best buddies, after all.”
Jared wraps an arm around his neck and Jensen makes sure he smiles.
They sleep beneath the stars again and Jensen lies awake once the other two are fast asleep, watching the steady rise and fall of Jared's chest.
***
The next morning they take advantage of the shower facilities and go to the toilet and shave before heading out again.
“We need to find a laundromat once we get to the city,” Jared says.
Jensen snorts. “Agreed.”
They drive in turns, Chad taking a small stretch until they discover he likes to drive twenty miles over the speed limit, and it's back to regular bursts of Jared and Jensen again.
They hit traffic entering LA, and a lot of time is spent with the windows rolled down and edging along slowly, bumper to bumper. They listen to music while they wait and they settle on a classic rock radio station once Jared’s iPod dies.
“Well, this is it,” Jared says, turning off the engine and looking towards Chad once they've entered the city and have parked up.
“Thank you Jared and Jensen,” Chad says, grabbing his rucksack from between his feet and resting it on his lap. He opens it and starts rooting through it. “I hope you find what you’re looking for and you have some fun. Sex, drugs and rock and roll, the whole deal.”
“Thanks man,” Jared says.
Chad pulls out his wallet and opens it, handing out something for Jared to take.
"It's not a lot," Chad says, as Jared looks down at his palm, at the twenty dollars and single condom that Chad drops there. "But to say thanks."
"Thanks, Chadmeister," Jared says again with a grin.
“See you around,” Jensen says, and Chad hops out of the truck, giving them a little wave as he walks off.
“I’m gonna kind of miss him,” Jared says, as they watch him head into the crowds, leering at the women who walk past.
Jensen huffs a laugh and says, “Certainly won’t be forgetting him anytime soon.”
“Definitely not.”
They decide to get some dinner, and find a diner a few minute's walk from where they parked the truck. They lug their bags with them in the hopes that they’ll find a laundromat somewhere nearby, but Jared’s insistent on eating something first before they go searching. They sit at a table by the window and Jared watches people pass by with a smile on his face.
"Can I get you boys some coffee?"
They look up to see a waitress with a high ponytail and pink lipgloss, who’s smacking gum and smiling down at them.
“Oh God yes,” Jensen says. He hasn’t had a hot drink in what feels like too long, and he’s itching for the comforts usually found from living indoors, rather than in a truck or on the road.
“Make that two, then,” Jared says, raising his eyebrows up at Jensen with an amused expression.
They order some fries and burgers and eat them quickly, an easy silence between them.
The waitress comes back to take their plates and Jensen smiles up at her. “Hey, do you know where we could find a laundromat around here?”
“Sure. Two blocks over, Jeannie’s,” she answers.
Jared gets his wallet out. "Thanks."
When they reach the laundromat they discover that Jeannie's is small but it's clean, and there are washing machines available for them to use.
They stuff their clothes into two washing machines, feed it coins and watch as it whirrs to life.
While they wait, they decide to visit some stores. They bypass the clothes stores and head straight into the tiny, independent, second-hand ones, and find a place that’s lined floor to ceiling with old books.
Jensen smiles as he steps inside, the smell of their yellowing pages lingering on the air, like a warm welcome. Jared trails in after him, and Jensen can feel his eyes on him, watching as he picks up random books and flicks through the pages.
The store front was tiny, but the further inside they go, they find it stretches out towards the back and up several flights of stairs with no spare inch of the wall not covered by piles of books.
Jensen picks up a copy of The Great Gatsby, dog-eared with pencil markings inside and he reads the first page, runs his thumb over the faded ink. Jared flicks through a few books but he’s mostly quiet, watching Jensen with a soft smile on his face. They wander around in a comfortable silence until Jensen realizes how long he’s been lost in the books, and smiles apologetically over to Jared.
“Sorry,” he says. “I could spend hours in here. We can go now, if you like.”
“It’s okay,” Jared says. “It’s nice in here. We’ve still got a little bit of time to kill anyway before we have to get our clothes, get them tumble-dried. Wanna slowly wander back, stop in some more stores maybe?"
“Sure,” Jensen agrees, putting the book back.
They find their way back through the maze of books and head out through the exit, a tiny bell chiming over their heads. The street is bustling, with people stopping to stare in the window fronts of stores, to rummage through boxes of old books and records.
They stop outside of a music store and Jared flips through the old vinyls, and slips one out of its sleeve, holding it up at eye level.
“Dark Side of the Moon,” Jared breathes. “One of the best records to exist. Best concept album ever, except maybe The Wall.”
When Jared gets passionate about something it’s evident in every move of his bones, like it’s some energy that thrums through him and lights him up from the inside out. Jensen’s got a sudden urge to buy it for him, to play it on an old record player and listen to it the entire way through.
“There’s a song on it. Great Gig in the Sky. The vocals on it are completely improvised. It’s just - fucking perfect.”
“Do you want to buy it?” Jensen asks.
Jared looks at it for a little while longer before slipping it back into its sleeve and placing it back.
“I think I’ll stick to browsing, for now."
Some day, Jensen will buy that record for him.
They fall into step as they walk down the street, in silent agreement back towards the laundromat. They wait ten minutes before taking their clothes out, pay for a quick tumble-dry, and then head back to the truck to put their bags away and make plans for the evening.
As the sky begins to grow dark, Jared makes a bed out of the back of the truck and then rummages through his bags, pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels.
“You are awful,” Jensen teases, sitting down beside him and picking up a shot glass for Jared to fill.
Jared’s tongue is sticking out in concentration as he fills the shot glass and then Jensen throws it back, shutting his eyes against the taste.
He hands the shot glass to Jared, who pours his own and then drinks it, making a small disgruntled sound after swallowing.
"Don't you know it," he says. Jensen takes the shot glass back and Jared grins.
***
Jensen is drunk. Jared’s able to twist Jensen’s arm easy as anything, and one shot turned into two into four into six and they’re walking through the city, Jared stumbling over cracks in the pavement like he hasn’t fully grown into his legs yet.
“Hey -- you got a lighter I can borrow?”
Jensen halts to a stop, sees three guys looking at him, the shorter one with a cigarette in his hand.
“Uh, yeah,” Jensen says, fumbling for his zippo in his pocket and handing it over.
“Thanks, man,” he says.
“Hey, are you okay?” One of the other guys says, eyeing Jared, who’s swaying slightly where he stands.
Jensen looks over at him, and a lazy grin spreads across Jared’s face.
“I’m searching,” Jared slurs, and wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist. “We’re on a road trip!”
The guy who’s smoking grins at him and there’s a devilish glint in his eye that Jensen’s not sure he should trust. He hands Jensen’s lighter back and then says, “That so, eh? Who are you searching for?”
“Who am I searching for?” Jared repeats, the consonants blurring together, and then he pauses, frowns, and then another slow smile spreads across his face. “God! We’re on the search for -- for God.”
The guy throws his head back as he laughs, and Jensen shakes his head with a smile, holding Jared up as he sways on unsteady feet.
“I’m not sure he’s around these parts, kid,” the guy says after a moment, still grinning. “But I can show you to St. Theresa’s, if you like. You interested in becoming a nun?”
“I dunno,” Jared says, and then turns Jensen. “Jen? How would I look dressed as a nun?”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Like a fucking confused stripper.”
The guy who asked for a lighter laughs and the other two smile, Jared trying to glare at Jensen, ruined by the way he’s gripping tight onto Jensen’s arm to keep himself steady.
One of the other guys speaks up, grinning as he says, “Hey, you guys say you’re on a road trip? You wanna see what LA is really about?”
“Yeah,” Jared says, immediately. “Yeah, show us.”
Jensen flicks his eyes between the three guys who are standing in front of them and Jared, who’s still got his arm around Jensen’s waist, making it difficult to do anything but stand there and take his weight.
“I’m not sure,” he says, finally.
“Come on, Jen,” Jared says.
“Yeah, come on, Jen,” the guy with the cigarette says.
“It’s Jensen.” He throws a glare towards Jared but Jared isn’t looking at him, instead smiling down at the three guys.
“Well it’s Chris,” the guy says, finishing his cigarette and crushing it beneath the heel of his boot.
“I’m Mike,” another guy says, and the third just nods and says, “Steve.”
“Jared,” Jared says, nodding back at them.
"Alright then," Chris says, clapping his hands together. "Let us show you Joey's."
Jensen relents and rolls his eyes as Jared makes a whooping noise and drags him along the path.
***
Jensen is always reassured by the fact that when in new company, Jared will always take the pressure off having to make conversation. He’s glad for it now, even if every other word comes out slurred.
“We’re not searching for God,” Jared says, with his dopey smile that Jensen remembers from dusky evenings with a pack of cards, in the long grass by the lake back home and a bottle of Jack between them. “I’m searching for something, though. And I’m with my best friend.”
As Jared says it he grins and nudges Jensen’s shoulder with his own. “What more could you want?”
“Nothing,” Mike says, watching them with a smile.
“We’re from a shitty little town in Texas and we’ve driven thousands of miles,” Jared tells him. “Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” Jensen says, smiling fondly.
They stop outside a small bar, and Steve holds out the pack of cigarettes. Jensen takes one with a grin and a nod of his head before he slips it between his lips.
The night passes in a messy blur. The bar is small but it’s homely, welcoming, and Chris keeps buying them drinks, keeps putting shots in front of Jared and Jensen and Jared’s more than willing to try anything new. Jensen drinks a little less but enough to feel like he’s going to throw up. When he gets to that stage he stops and lets his head roll back against the wall, the other guys still drinking their beers like parched fish thrown back into water.
Mike’s slurring so much it’s difficult to understand what he’s saying, and Chris is making a concentrated effort to try and stand up, leaning on Steve for support.
“C’mon, Jen,” Jared says, patting Jensen’s shoulder a few times. “We’re leaving now. Time to go, Jensen.”
Jared’s suddenly pulling him up and he’s swaying on unsteady feet, Jared’s hands all over him as he’s led away from the table.
"Let’s go," Chris stays, stumbling out the door. The night air hits them and it's refreshing, cooler than the suffocating heat from inside.
Jared's pressed up close beside him and Jensen's head is swimming, the ground feeling like it's moving. He feels light, like air, like he weighs nothing at all and he's hovering above the concrete.
He wonders, for a moment, if he’s going to be able to make it back to the truck. He has no idea where it’s parked, or even if they’re nearby.
Chris is trying to help Steve roll a cigarette and Mike looks like he’s talking to himself, leaning up against the wall.
“Hey,” Jensen says, realizing with a start that he’s standing alone. “Where’s--”
He turns to see Jared crouching down in front of a dog and a homeless man. He’s completely ignoring the man in favor of stroking the dog’s head and talking to it, and then he laughs to himself, as if the dog said something particularly entertaining.
The four boys fall into silence watching them.
“What the fuck?” Mike says, finally, as Jared keeps up an incessant chatter.
“Uh,” Jensen says. “He likes dogs.”
“Yeah,” Steve says slowly. “Apparently.”
“I’ll handle this,” Jensen says, and walks over to Jared, giving a smile to the homeless man.
“--I mean, I don’t live here, otherwise I’d take you with me and he’d probably not like you in the truck anyway and my momma would--”
“Jared,” Jensen says. “Why are you talking to a dog?”
Jared turns to him with a blinding smile and Jensen’s suddenly distracted by his dimples. He swallows hard and tries to keep his gaze focused on Jared’s eyes, instead of his two dimples, his easy smile, his pink lips. Fuck, his tongue.
“--called Lucky and isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Yeah, really gorgeous. Come on, Jared,” Jensen placates, circling his fingers around his wrist and pulling him away.
Jared comes easily enough and they make their way back over to the other guys, who are back to trying to make something resembling a cigarette from Steve’s tobacco and papers.
They light up using Jensen’s zippo and then stumble along the street, none of them really knowing where they’re going.
“I’m ready to crash,” Mike says.
“Yeah,” Steve says. “I was ready twenty drinks ago.”
“Y’all can stay at mine,” Chris says. “I got floor big enough.”
“Thanks,” Jared says, dropping a heavy hand onto Chris’ shoulder. “Really, Chris. Thanks.”
Chris smirks and they carry on walking, following Chris as he leads them past closed stores and further through the streets, until they’re entering a neighborhood with a few broken streetlights and the sound of barking dogs in the distance.
They stumble up the steps and follow Chris into his apartment, Jared tripping over his own feet more than once. Jensen’s ready to collapse onto the floor and fall right the fuck asleep wherever he lands.
They lie down in a heap on the carpet and Jensen groans when he shuts his eyes, part in relief and part due to the spinning sensation he gets in the darkness and the alcohol.
“Jen,” Jared whispers, kicking Jensen in the leg while he tries to get comfortable. “Jen.”
“What?” Jensen mumbles, face pressed against the ground.
“I’m hungry,” he says, shuffling closer.
“Shut up,” Jensen says, and lets himself get pulled into sleep.
***
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