rps: I Don’t Want to Be In Love {jared/jensen, nc-17}
Title: I Don’t Want to Be In Love [But You’re Making Me]
Pairing/Characters: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, Chad Michael Murray, Michael Rosenbaum, Tom Welling, Riley Smith, Lauren Cohan, Milo Ventimiglia, implied Chad/Sophia Bush & Mike/Tom.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; contains graphic m/m content, real person fiction, romance, drama, excessive schmoop. Also, Jared is 18 in this story; Jensen is 26.
Word Count: 25,000+
Summary: A not so stupid person once said that hope was radical. What does that say about romance? [ +]
Notes: Written for abouttwoboys, based on the film Formula 17.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Additional Acknowledgments & Soundtrack
I Don’t Want to Be In Love [But You’re Making Me]
written by keepaofthecheez.
Part 3.
Steve’s watching him.
Jensen tries to ignore the hollow, lifeless black eyes, focuses on the latest contract obligations for his business trip to Chicago. But the mannequin hovers nearby, mocking him with everything Jensen’s too scared to take control of.
He glances over, narrows his gaze in a challenge. Steve stares back, and Jensen snaps.
Grabbing the mannequin from the corner Jensen banished him to a week ago, Jensen tucks him under his arm and stomps through the living room. Reaches for the door, ready to toss the damn thing out and into the street if it’ll just stop watching him. Judging him.
He flings open the door, prepared to be met with dark and privacy, and instead finds a familiar figure bent over before him. Sweet, tight little ass in faded jeans, and Jensen can only stare as Jared cusses under his breath and keeps digging his fingers through Jensen’s front lawn.
“Where are you…c’mon…”
Jensen blinks. Struggles to tear his gaze away from the curve of Jared’s ass to figure out what the hell the kid’s doing at his house this time of night. It’s almost as if Jensen’s pulled him out of thin air, just to torment himself a little more with all of the things he’s dying for, but can’t seem to get.
His shoulder starts to protest at the weight of the mannequin, and Jensen looks down at Steve. His eyes widen; he grabs the damn thing and shoves it back behind the door at the same time Jared huffs out a sigh and comes to his feet. Turns around and meets Jensen’s gaze.
Jared freezes, and Jensen’s pretty sure he’s not imagining the glow spreading across his face. “Oh. Um.” He lifts his hand in a wave. “Hi.”
Jensen sends him a flustered grin, then about loses his shit when Steve starts to slide back out of the door. He reaches inside at an awkward angle, smile fixed on his lips. “Jared. Hey.”
Jared doesn’t even seem to notice Jensen’s epic battle with the mannequin. He’s all but wringing his hands, biting his lip and looking anywhere but directly at Jensen’s face. “Uh, you didn’t happen to…see…anything just now…” He trails off lamely.
“No,” Jensen says quickly. Then waits a beat. “Uh, did you?”
Jared blinks long lashes. “Did I what?”
“See anything,” Jensen presses, a little snappier than he really wanted, but hell. He’s still trying to hide a damn mannequin from the guy he wants to have really hot, illicit sex with but can’t because he’s completely fucked up, which is why he needs the damn mannequin in the first place.
Jared just shakes his head. “No, I just. I came out to get some ice cream.”
That makes Jensen raise a brow. Chad lives on the other side of the city. “And you had to come all the way out here for the best Rocky Road?” he jokes, and sees Jared’s embarrassment grow. Jensen grins then, his own mortification forgotten in the wake of Jared’s unbearable appeal. “I’m glad you did.”
Jared’s gaze snaps to his; a slow smile crosses his lips. “Yeah? Well…good.”
“Great.” Jensen leans a forearm against the door, takes in the thin hoodie half-zipped up Jared’s chest, the snug jeans. He’s sure the kid has no idea just how attractive he is, and it drives Jensen a little crazier. He wants to get his hands on Jared, all over him. Now.
Jared’s studying him, too, eyes lidded and warm, and Jensen suddenly realizes he’s standing on his front porch in nothing but a pair of drawstring pants and an open shirt. He’s never worried over what other people might see when they look at him. Now it’s all he can think about.
“You wanna come inside?” he says, voice a near rasp. Jared nods slowly, still staring somewhere south of Jensen’s nose. Jensen reflexively licks his lips, and Jared’s breath shudders.
“I’m tired of this.”
Jensen’s gaze snaps up at those quiet words, alive and vibrant, awkward smile fading away into a combination of both hope and terror, and Jared looks equally terrified to keep going, even as he opens his mouth again.
Voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just stop pretending, okay?”
Jensen just stares at him. He doesn’t recognize the sort of desperate hunger building inside of him, just knows it’s almost painful to push back down. They lapse into silence; Jensen’s fingers flirt at the edge of Jared’s hoodie and he never even saw Jared move.
“Tell me how,” Jensen finally says, begs, hearing the slur in his own voice. He spreads his fingers across Jared’s lower belly, feels Jared shivering underneath his touch. “Jay, I…”
Jared grabs hold of the back of Jensen’s neck, catches his mouth with his own. Jensen goes still for all of a second, warm, wet, and then he’s groaning into Jared’s mouth. He’s got both hands on Jared’s hips, tugging him closer. Can’t get enough.
Jared’s not shy when it comes to kissing; he takes over immediately, and Jensen goes with it. Lets Jared fuck his mouth with his tongue, sucks it deep, working Jared’s hoodie, shirt over that shaggy head.
“Inside,” he gets out between sharp gasps of breath. Jared chases his mouth, his own already swelling bright and pink, and Jensen hauls him backward and into the house. Slams the door with a foot and pushes Jared up against it. “Goddamn, kid. Just…slow down a minute.”
Jared’s panting and disheveled, staring down at Jensen with flushed, hungry features. “Please, I don’t wanna…” He makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, grabs Jensen’s hand. Jensen nearly embarrasses himself when Jared jerks apart his own fly, shoves Jensen’s hand down against his hard dick.
“Fuck.” He blows out a ragged breath, stares back up at Jared. “Are you…are you sure this is what you want?”
He doesn’t know why he’s asking and not just taking. But he suddenly, desperately wants it to be enough for Jared. Wants himself to be enough, and he moves his fingers just so. Just enough to rip a mewling groan from Jared’s pretty mouth, those eyes falling half-closed.
“God, yes,” Jared breathes, and then Jensen’s kissing him again.
He maneuvers them to the bedroom, jerking at Jared’s pants until they’re hanging from his ankles and Jared trips over them. Lands on the bed with a bounce before Jensen’s crawling over him.
“Wanna taste you,” he’s saying, babbling, brushing shaggy hair off of Jared’s face and dropping slow, wet kisses on his mouth. His neck, his chest. “Fuck, I wanna eat you all up. You’re so…so goddamn…” Mine, he thinks, and looks up to find Jared’s head thrown back against Jensen’s pillow. His jaw clenched, cheeks pretty-pink. “Can I do anything to you, Jared?” Jensen asks, a gravelly purr that sends Jared’s hips into a sweet rock and roll.
“Please,” he gasps, and damn if that one word doesn’t sound so fucking sweet dripping off of those lips. Jensen’s never really noticed how big and beautiful Jared’s hands are, not until he’s sucking two of Jared’s fingers and using them to trace his own mouth.
“I wanna fuck you all up.” The words come out gritty and honest; he’s burning hot, hard, skimming his lips from Jared’s mouth to his cheek. He steals a taste of that dark, tempting mark. Laves it with the tip of his tongue, hips grinding down against Jared’s, and Jensen relishes the sweet groan it produces.
“I want your mouth,” Jared slurs, sandpaper-rough voice, and Jensen grins. He knows then and there he’ll never get tired of hearing Jared demand dirty, filthy things of him. Is already sliding his mouth across Jared’s collarbone. His belly. Jared’s good and leaking, flushed and waiting for hot press of Jensen’s lips. Jensen wraps his fist around Jared’s pretty cock, squeezes tight.
“Say it again.”
“Suck me,” Jared says, whispers like a good little boy, and Jensen drops a kiss on that wet, aching tip. Jared’s breath comes out in a hiss, hips rolling again, and he drops a hand on Jensen’s head. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
It’s pretty obvious within seconds that Jared’s never really had a blowjob before, and Jensen’s not surprised. Then again, Jared’s dick is a fucking feast, and he wonders just how many of the people Jared’s turned down would’ve given more than Jensen just to get a quick taste of perfection.
“Oh, God,” Jared laughs, gasps, and Jensen looks up to find Jared’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s gripping the sheets so hard his big knuckles are white, his voice fretful. “Jen. I’m gonna…”
Jensen sits up on his elbows, Jared’s flesh still a warm reminder on his tongue. “I hope you do,” he says, moving to jack Jared slow and steady. “I wanna see how pretty it’ll be.”
At that, Jared’s eyes fly open. “No way. That’s…not hot.” He chokes on the word, embarrassment cloying his features, and he makes an attempt to pull away. Jensen tightens his grasp.
“It fucking is.” Jensen holds his gaze, deliberating sucks a kiss against the shiny-wet tip of Jared’s cock. Jared grunts, eyes going soft and wide, and Jensen rubs him all over his mouth. “You’re young…and juicy. Hot as hell.”
“Damn,” Jared groans, throwing an arm over his face. “I can’t…when you’re talking like that…I can’t keep it…”
“I don’t want you to.” Jensen says it softly, but firms up his handle on Jared. “Come on, Jay, all over me, yeah? That what you want?”
Jared’s toes curl in answer, his breath stuttering in his chest quick seconds before his cock jerks in Jensen’s fist. He’s shuddering all over when Jensen leans up and finds his mouth. Strokes him off through the whole thing, biting at Jared’s bottom lip. The filth staining Jared’s tongue is enough to have Jensen pressing his hips against the mattress. He wants to rub off then and there, all up on that big, hot body with Jared’s sweat and come slippery between them.
Then Jared looks up at him through spiky-wet lashes and says, “I want you to fuck me.”
xxx
Jared’s ears are ringing with his own words, brain still struggling to catch up with the orgasm that just ripped him from the inside out. But he’s even more focused on Jensen, on the myriad of emotions fleeting across his features before he finally drops his head between his shoulders and lets out something resembling a laugh.
Jared might be a little pissed off, embarrassed, if it weren’t for the hard press of Jensen’s dick against his leg. Because he can feel just how much Jensen wants it, too, and that has Jared grabbing him by the hair and forcing Jensen’s gaze back to his. The heat there startles him for all of a second, then he’s responding. Sitting up to mouth up and under Jensen’s jaw. “How do you want me?” he asks, cringing a little because it sounds like something out of one of the cheesy pornos Chad’s tried to force on him, but Jensen trembles and groans.
Jared goes with it. Hums against Jensen’s neck, tongue working pressure-point to Jensen’s pulse. “On my back?” He reaches between them, finds out how much Jensen likes that idea. “Belly?” Jensen gives an aborted thrust; his breath has an odd, almost choking quality to it, and Jared pulls back enough to look up. “I don’t…I could try and ride…I don’t know…will that even work?”
“God, shut up,” Jensen finally grits out, and then Jared finds himself spread out across the mattress. Jensen’s eyes are all pupil, glazed over as he licks his lips and drags his gaze down slow. Then, “You wanna get fucked, do you?”
Jared swallows. By you? “Oh, yeah.”
Jensen doesn’t ask again. Just closes his eyes for all of a second before opening them again, gazing down hard and demanding, “Roll over. Show me what I’m gettin’ first, then.”
Oh, shit.
This is the infamous Playboy No. 1 speaking, Jared knows, not Jensen. And yet, there’s a distinct gleam of tenderness, possession flickering in those gold-green eyes and it makes it all okay. Jared bites his lip and moves onto his belly. Doesn’t even hesitate before dropping his head into folded arms and squeezing his eyes shut.
There’s a muttered curse from behind him, and then Jensen’s hand settles down low on his back. Presses deep. “Gorgeous,” he says thickly, and Jared lifts his hips.
“Just go easy when you give it to me,” he tries to joke, but gets distracted by the warmth of Jensen’s mouth at the base of his spine. “Uh…God. What’re you…”
“Gonna give it to you, all right,” Jensen says against his skin. Sinks his teeth into Jared’s hip. “You’re a talker, huh?”
“I guess so,” Jared gasps, and it trails off into a groan when Jensen’s nails scritch-scratch a path toward his balls. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, it makes it hard to get the rest out. “Is-Is that bad?”
“Nothing about you’s bad.” Jensen swears it with teeth and tongue, and soon Jared’s ready and raring to go, all but humping down on the mattress for friction. Jensen grabs him by the hips, pulls his ass high.
Jared gnashes his teeth at the first finger, circling his hole almost like a blatant tease. Then comes Jensen’s voice, a husky murmur that sends fire up his spine.
“You ever played around back here, Jay?” Jensen’s chest brushes his back as he leans over, digs around in the night table above Jared’s head. “Ever fuck yourself, stretch yourself out and think about cock?”
“Would you be surprised if I have?” Jared grits out, and tries to settle back on Jensen’s finger.
“Who do you think about?” Jensen says quietly, and there’s a hint of jealousy coloring his voice that has Jared grinning lazy and stupid against the pillows.
You, he thinks. I just didn’t know it. Out loud he admits, “I never saw his face before.”
If Jensen’s curious about the vague answer, he doesn’t press for more details. But he does press that finger right up inside, sweat and lube easing the way. Rests that filthy, pretty mouth up against Jared’s ear and whispers. “You ready for more?”
It takes three to stretch him wide enough, and by the time Jensen’s covered and wet and ready to go, Jared’s flushed all over and hiding his face in the blankets. “Please,” he whines, no longer caring if he sounds like the inexperienced virgin he’s no longer about to be.
“Drop your shoulders down a little,” Jensen gets out, fingers smearing leftover come and lube across Jared’s lower back as he forces him down lower. “Take a deep breath…ready?”
“Goddamn it, yes--” Jared’s urgent plea is strangled by Jensen’s dick, moving in and pulling Jared tight around him. He tries to grit his teeth and roll with the sharp burst of pain, but can’t quite bite back a groan. Salt gathers at the corners of his eyes, and it stings when he blinks it away. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”
“You’re burning me up.” Jensen’s voice is tight and thready. “Jay, I gotta…are you…?”
“Do it,” Jared says, tasting blood where he’s bitten down so hard while Jensen was fucking into him. “I asked you to, I want it.”
Jensen fucks him through a litany of curses and oaths, until Jared’s backing into him and begging quicker, harder, Jesus, and then his hand wraps around Jared’s hair. Hips still working, he tugs Jared’s head up until he can bend down and press their mouths together. It’s an awkward angle, but it does something fucking incredible inside of him, and Jared licks Jensen’s bottom lip and fucks back on his cock.
“I can’t believe I waited so long to do this,” he laughs out loud, voice breaking when Jensen lets out a breathy sound and his hips stutter. “God…I hate when Chad’s right.”
Jensen’s answer is a thick, dreamy slur. “I can’t get deep enough. I’m in you, and I can’t get…deep enough in you.” He doesn’t give Jared a chance to respond, just keeps right on in a dirty soliloquy, “I wanna fuck you until you shoot all over my bed. Wanna wipe my face in it, then just…fuck you s’more…”
And all Jared can manage is, “Oh…yeah” before he is shooting all over Jensen’s expensive sheets, eyes squeezed shut, body still wrapped tight around Jensen’s cock.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Jay.” Jensen slides an arm around him, pulls him up and back while somehow staying steady on his knees. “I wanna fucking see that shit…” He grabs Jared’s dick, fingering the sloppy-wet head and Jared turns his head. Pants into Jensen’s neck as Jensen comes apart inside him.
xxx
Jared wakes up with the sun in his eyes and a lightness in his heart he hasn’t felt since before phantom dreams began to plague his sleep. Now though…his lips curve into a grin as he thinks about the flashes of cool water, warm lips.
Now he has a face to go with it, and Jared opens his eyes. Looks across the pillow to find Jensen’s cheek pressed up against his shoulder. His hair’s sticking up, that perfect pink mouth still swollen and bruised. Jared licks across his own, remembering, and turns on his side to get a better look at the sleeping playboy who’s got his heart on a goddamn short leash.
He aches all over. Between his thighs, his shoulders. But it burns down deep and makes Jared glad. He’s just starting to wonder if he should get up, find his phone and check-in with Chad before his best friend sends out a search party-assuming Chad even realizes he’s missing yet-when Jensen’s lids squeeze tight.
Jared’s breath catches somewhere in the center of his chest; he waits for those eyes to open, slow, wondering, and he knows the instant Jensen realizes what’s happened. Where he is, and who’s there with him.
Jared smiles brightly, nervous tension crawling up his spine as a shadow crosses Jensen’s face. “Hi.”
He knows he’s blushing…it feels ridiculous to have done the things they did last night, and then be uncertain about a stupid greeting in the morning. But Jensen’s not really helping matters, staring at Jared like he doesn’t even know who he is, and Jared’s smile falters several seconds into it.
Then Jensen smiles back, expression clear, familiar, and he clears his throat. Rolls onto his back. “Hey, there.”
Okay. Still not a glowing endorsement, but hell, Jared knows Jensen now. Knows what’s deeper than the front he puts up for everyone else, thinks that maybe Jensen’s just as nervous as he is. He scoots closer, closes his fingers around Jensen’s elbow. “You wanna, um…”
He loses his train of thought when Jensen slants him a knowing look, lips edged up in the barest hint of a smirk. Jared buries his face in the pillow and laughs.
“Not that! I meant…do you wanna shower or …something, I dunno.”
He has no idea how this is supposed to go now.
Jensen watches him for a moment, then shakes his head just a little. Softens it with a secret smile. “You go first.”
Jared’s eyes narrow; Jensen’s voice has a weird, almost panicked quality to it, despite the easy grin on his face. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says, a little louder, and swallows. “I…you need to soak your muscles, anyway. You’re probably sore.”
“Just a little.” Jared laughs, and Jensen returns it weakly. Jared shakes off the concern, determined to focus on the fact that Jensen wants this, him, as much as he wants Jensen. It’s one of the very few things he’s sure of at all. “Okay, I’ll go first. You make breakfast.”
He shifts, swings a leg over the end of the bed, and almost collapses on the ground when pain shoots through his lower body. Jensen sits up and grabs hold of his shoulder. Genuine worry darkens his eyes, deepens his voice. “You okay?”
Jared grins and offers him an easy salute. Heads off toward the bathroom with a light song under his breath.
Everything’s gonna be just fine.
xxx
“C’mon, c’mon…pick up.” Jensen plucks his bottom lip anxiously, the steady sound of a dial tone in his ear. He can hear Jared in the shower, singing off-key to an old Our Lady Peace song, and it makes Jensen’s breath come that much faster.
God, don’t do this to me, he thinks desperately, feeling the attack building up as he catches sight of their clothes on the floor. Jared’s hoodie tossed carelessly over the back of a chair. “Goddamn it, Lauren,” he says when the line goes to voicemail, and turns the phone off without leaving a message. Throws it on the bed and then sinks down beside it.
Jared’s voice hits a particularly high note, and Jensen flinches.
He has to get the hell out of here, right now.
Five minutes later he’s dressed and driving down the LA freeway toward Santa Monica. By the time Riley answers the door, sleepy-eyed and confused, Jensen’s practically clawing at his throat and shoves past his startled best friend.
Riley follows him into the kitchen, watches as Jensen all but bangs his head into the hard, granite counter. “Jensen, what the-”
“I can’t do it,” Jensen says over him, turning and flashing Riley straight-on with every bit of freaked out terror that’s possessed him since he woke up and saw Jared smiling at him. Soft, lazy, fucking stars in his eyes, and he doesn’t even know… “I can’t be there, Riley.”
“Okay, slow down.” Riley approaches slowly, like he’s afraid Jensen might decide to take a swing. “Can’t be where? What happened?”
“I kissed him,” is, inanely, the first thing to come out of Jensen’s mouth. Riley blinks, and he quickly adds, “I fucked him, and when I woke up, he was still there, and he looked fucking perfect there, Riley. And God, he shouldn’t. He has no fucking idea, and.”
“Breathe, Jensen.” Riley moves toward the fridge, pulls out a frozen ice block and tosses it over. Jensen catches it against his chest. “You’re sweating and flushed and you look like you’re about ready to pass the fuck out, man. Chill.”
A chair’s shoved up under Jensen’s knees, and he collapses gratefully into the cushion. He brings the ice up to his burning cheeks and it works as a shocking tranquilizer.
“So, you and Jared hooked up.” Riley’s eyes are piercing. Jensen nods miserably. “And you kissed him. On the mouth?”
“God, this conversation is so fucking…yes, I kissed him on the goddamn mouth and I didn’t need a mannequin to do it, okay?”
“Well, there you go. Why are you freaking out?”
The crushing pressure’s starting to subside, replaced by a sense of doom and depression. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Okay,” Riley says slowly. “Well, where is he now.”
Jensen winces, eyes closing as he imagines Jared coming out of the bathroom only to find Jensen gone, the place empty and deserted. Riley correctly interprets his silence and curses out loud.
“Jesus Christ, Jen!” He wipes a hand down his face while Jensen presses the ice against the other side of his face. Then, “You have to go back over there. Now.”
“I can’t.” It’s the only thing Jensen does know right now, and he ignores the warning look in Riley’s eye. Stands up and throws the ice on the counter. “I can’t, all right? I just…I can’t see him right now.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” There’s a brief pause, and then quieter, “Would it really be the end of the world if you liked him?”
Jensen’s gaze snaps up at the echo of Lauren’s words. “Like him?” he laughs, but there’s no amusement in his tone. “God, I wish I did. You can stop liking someone, right? Just…stop.” He swallows and stares down at his hands. “What happens when you can’t stop? What happens when it…it’s so fucking beyond like, and…”
Understanding dawns across Riley’s features, and with it a soft oath. “Fuck, Jen. It’s like that, then?”
Jensen stares back at him helplessly before dropping his forehead into his hands.
xxx
Jared stares up at the ceiling over Jensen’s bed. Wonders why he never noticed that there’s water damage in the shape of duck, or maybe a horse, right above his head. He’s always noticing weird details like that about every place he goes, only this time…the only thing he was noticing was Jensen, and it makes him feel a little bit goofy. A little bit giddy.
He’s long since dried off from his shower, and sits up. Wonders when Jensen’s going to get back from wherever he disappeared to so that they can finally, finally talk about…whatever this thing is.
Of course, Jared knows what he’d like for it to mean, but first Jensen needs to be on the same page. And yeah, okay, that probably makes him one-hundred percent the girl here, but then he thinks about being shoved face-first against the bed and fucked, and finds he doesn’t really mind all that much.
Just as he’s thinking it, there’s the sound of a key in the front door, and Jared jumps off the bed. Already breaking into an impish grin, he turns the corner into the living room.
“So, I was thinking, maybe this time I could suck you off first, and then you can fuck me in the…” He trails off, coming face to face with Riley’s flushing features as the other man stares at him with a classic deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Confusion settles deep in Jared’s belly; he shakes his head as Riley says, “Uh. Hey there, Jared.”
“Hi,” Jared says. “I was, um, waiting for-”
“Jensen, yeah.” There’s an awkward pause as Riley’s jaw works, and the confusion turns to a slowly-growing, sickening dread. “Well, it’s…it’s complicated,” Riley’s saying, and Jared thinks of the shadows on Jensen’s face. “He’s at my place right now.”
The statement goes through Jared like a hot knife through butter; he takes a step backward and glimpses one of his socks lying in a scraggly white tube against the bedroom door. He can already hear Mike’s tough, no-nonsense shrill in his head, “You knew better. What the fuck did you expect to happen?”
“Look, some things are hard for him to explain,” Riley says, a plea lifting his voice and making Jared blink. And then, “That’s why I’m here.”
Jared nods blankly. Turns away and reaches over to pick up his sock. He shoves it into his back pocket and swallows against the lump blocking his voice. “Oh,” he manages a second later, and he hates how weak it sounds. How fucking pathetic, and he hates it, and he hates the pity on Riley’s face, and most of all, he hates Jensen.
Riley’s followed him to the door, uncertainty shining in kind blue eyes even as Jared shoots him a look so venomous he almost imagines he can see smoke rising from the ashes of Riley’s body. “Jared, he doesn’t want you to misunderstand-”
“Stop, just…” Jared takes a deep breath, lets it out in a shaky laugh. “Stop. Do me a favor Riley, tell Jensen…” He looks away, at the mess of the bed. His voice sharpens to a point. “Tell Playboy No. 1 that this kind of misunderstanding won’t happen again.”
“Jared, wait,” Riley calls after him, but he doesn’t exactly try to stop him from leaving. And that’s really more than enough of an answer.
xxx
Jensen grabs three suit jackets off their hangars and tosses them in a pile on his bed. Shoes follow, slacks, ties, and when he has everything he needs he walks over. Grabs an armful of the clothing and dumps it in the open suitcase on his mattress.
“Jensen,” Riley says, but Jensen ignores him in favor of balling up three dress shirts.
He hasn’t bothered making the bed. Can’t quite bring himself to change the sheets, to get rid of the smell of Jared and himself and sex and come, and-
“Jensen.”
He slams the too-full suitcase shut and catches the tip of his index finger on the zipper. Blood begins to well up between the bruised teeth-marks, and Riley mutters a curse under his breath.
“Are you all right?” he asks, and for the first time since Riley got back, since they left for Jensen’s house together to pack for this goddamn fucking business trip that Jensen can’t even think about because the only thing he can seem to think about is over six feet tall, lean, and gorgeous, he looks up. Meets Riley’s gaze.
The question burns on his tongue, breaks his voice in two. “What did you say to him?”
Riley sighs. Sinks down on the bed next to him and scrubs a hand down his face. “I said you were at my place, and…not to misunderstand.”
“Don’t misunderstand?” Jensen blinks. Then, “He’s fucking crazy if he doesn’t understand!”
“You’re fucking crazy!” Riley returns, agitated and angry and everything else he’s never been, not with Jensen. Not any of the times he’s had to kick out an unwelcome trick the next morning, or get Jensen out of a tight spot with one’s boyfriend, girlfriend. As if he’s reading Jensen’s mind, he shouts, “How many times are you going to let someone else clean up your mess?” His eyes are bright. “When are you going to finally talk about it?”
Jensen stands up, paces away to the closet door and stares into it. “As if I want to?”
There’s a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and then Riley’s got both of his shoulders in a vise, shoving Jensen up against the wall. They’re both breathing hard, glaring at each other with various emotions that Jensen can’t even put a name to anymore because everything he feels walked out of the door and is probably never coming back.
“Then don’t get involved,” Riley says between his teeth, knuckles white against Jensen’s sleeves. “You fucking idiot.”
“Let me go.”
“Like you did him?” Riley tosses back, and it’s meant to sting. Wound, and it doesn’t miss the mark. Still, his friend releases him, anger melting to concern and frustration as Jensen stares down at his feet with burning eyes. “Is it really that much easier?”
No, Jensen wants to choke out. It feels like I’m goddamn dying.
“Come on,” Riley says. “Talk to him. Figure this out, Jensen. Move past it all. That’s what Lauren was really trying to tell you…you don’t need a mirror, or a mannequin. You need a fucking pair of balls--”
Jensen shoves past him and grabs the phone. Punches in the familiar number and struggles against the ever-simmering anxiety deep down in his gut. A second passes by, two, and then the tinny sounds of Our Lady Peace float up from somewhere behind him.
Jensen looks around; Riley moves toward the pile of Jensen’s clothes from last night, reaches down and pulls out a slim black phone that somehow got lost in the shuffle. Jensen stares at his own name on the Caller ID, along with a goofy smiley face that’s so heartbreakingly Jared that it makes him feel sick inside.
xxx
Jared’s curled up on the couch when Chad walks in with coffee and a bag of Krispy Kreme. He takes one look at Jared’s face and drops the pastries on the ground. “I’ll fucking kill the bastard. No, better yet, I’ll finally let Mike at him and he’ll fucking kill-”
“Don’t,” Jared says, his voice husky and unused. “Just…turn off the light when you go, okay?”
Chad’s jaw works, but he picks up his breakfast and turns right back around. Clicks off the light and shuts the door.
Jared pulls his blanket up and over his head.
xxx
“What else did he say?” Jensen asks, rushing through the airport, hot on Riley’s heels. They have less than an hour before their business flight takes off, thanks to Jensen’s unprecedented and unforeseen monumental breakdown.
“I’ll tell you on the plane,” comes Riley’s hurried answer, and Jensen bites back the several less than pleasant replies he has to that. None of this is Riley’s fault, except for the part where he decided to be best friends with a hopeless freaking lunatic.
The flight’s already boarding when they finally reach the gate, and Jensen goes through the motions, lets the stewardess store his meager luggage and sinks down into the window seat next to Riley. Stares at his best friend out of wounded, helpless eyes until Riley heaves a sigh and rubs his temple.
“He said something about how it would never happen again. That kind of misunderstanding,” Riley says, and Jensen’s heart gives a dull thud.
“It’s over,” he says, because that’s what Jared means.
Riley won’t meet his gaze, which just cements the fact. Then, “What did you expect to happen, Jensen?”
And that’s the problem, right there. He hasn’t expected any of this to happen. Never expected to fall this quick and hard and dangerous, and especially not over someone like Jared Padalecki. Innocent and sweet and capable of tying Jensen up in knots just looking at him.
They sit in silence for several minutes before Jensen can’t stand it anymore. “Great timing for a fucking business trip.”
“Great timing to fall in love,” Riley returns pointedly, and Jensen stares out of the window with his lips pressed tight together until they’re flying high over the ground.
xxx
Chad thinks he’s being sly, but Jared knows his friend all too well. It’s a shame, really, because any other time and he might be able to appreciate the effort going into the little scene across the room. As it is, he’s just trying to keep down the handful of Doritos he had for lunch after a second wave of nausea had him locking himself in the bathroom for an hour and a half.
“The zoo stays open later this time of year,” Tom says, just loud enough to carry. “Oh, oh! We could try and pet the monkies!”
Jared snorts into his hand, but doesn’t look over when someone-he’s betting on Chad-slaps Tom in the back of the head.
“Ow! Jesus, what? He looks like the kinda guy who likes monkies!”
“Jared,” Mike sings, floating up behind him and tickling the top of his head. “Sweetie, darling, sugarpie. You smell like a foot.”
More than likely, it’s the leftover remains of this morning’s breakfast currently staining Jared’s t-shirt.
“Why don’t you take a nice, long shower,” Mike says, ruffling Jared’s hair with his too-long press-ons, “Mmm…get those pretty muscles all soapy and delicious…”
“Mike,” Chad says plaintively.
“Right. I mean, you know, jerk off, whatever, and then when you no longer smell like Chad’s asscrack-”
“Hey!”
“-we can get dressed and go let Tommy play with the monkies. You’ll feel better.”
“I have a better idea,” Jared says suddenly, and all three of them stare at him with varying degrees of concerned, hesitant interest. “Have any of you ever been sky-diving?”
Chad blinks. “You hate flying.”
Jared ignores this very true fact. “Or how about parasailing…that’s the one where they tie you to a boat and drag you all over the fucking place, right?”
Mike and Tom exchange a glance that Jared can’t read, but it pisses him off nonetheless.
“It’s…pretty dangerous, Jared,” Chad says uncertainly, and Jared grins, rubs his hands together.
“Awesome, let’s do it.”
xxx
Everyone’s clapping during the round-table presentation, but Jensen doesn’t hear a word being said. He’s been staring blankly at his notes for the Chow-Yang project, none of it making any sense, none of it even mattering.
Someone clears their throat; Jensen finally blinks, looks up to see everyone watching him expectantly. Waiting. It’s his turn to fill the buyers in on the latest developments back West, and the only thing he can think about is how angry, hurt Jared probably felt when Riley broke the news that Jensen had left and wasn’t planning to come back.
Not right away, at least, not that Jared knew that, or Riley, or hell, even Jensen himself. Until the minute he realized he couldn’t come back now, because Jared wouldn’t even want him to.
This kind of misunderstanding won’t happen again.
Warm fingers close around the index cards, balance sheets in his hands, and then Riley’s sending him a reassuring smile and standing up to continue the presentation. Jensen sinks down lower in his chair once the attention’s on Riley, and presses a fist to stinging, wet eyes.
xxx
Turns out that parasailing isn’t really Jared’s sport.
Chad finally forgives him for the afternoon’s events after Jared promises to never go all schitzophrenic psychopath after a break-up ever again, and then goes to bed early with only a few bruises coloring both cheeks of his ass.
Jared doesn’t really think it’s his fault that he got tangled up in the cords and wound up dragging Chad a good fifty feet across the beach before they got it all straightened out, but the least he can do is apologize. It was his idea in the first place.
Now the apartment’s dark, silent, save for Chad’s light snoring from the bedroom. Jared lifts his head and punches his pillow a few times to fluff it up. Stretches his legs out along the length of the couch and wonders when he’ll ever be able to get his own place.
Unbidden, the thought of Jensen’s house, clean lines and neat angles and just all-around Jensen pops into his head. Jared grits his teeth and barely refrains from shouting obscenities at the ceiling.
He knows what went down, but there’s a tiny part of him still waiting for Jensen to call. For some kind of goddamn explanation to help Jared make sense of the situation. Not that there’s really anything to make sense of-Jensen was looking for a good time, and a new trick, and Jared is the one who went and fell in love like a stupid country mouse fresh off the farm. He’s the one who made the mistake of thinking simple sex meant something more.
Still…
His eyes fall on the blinking light of Chad’s answering machine. The phone sits tall beside it, and Jared freezes. His fingers twitch, and before he knows what he’s even doing, he’s crawling across the floor like a cat burglar, desperately trying not to wake up his sleeping best friend, and calling the number of the asshole who dumped him not even twelve hours earlier.
“What am I doing?” he mumbles to himself, chewing his bottom lip as the other line rings and rings. “He’s probably screening his calls for crazy ex-boyfriends, and fuck, I’m not even a boyfriend, I’m just an-”
“The cellular customer you’re trying to reach is unavailable. Please try your call again later.”
Jared sits back on his knees, mutes the receiver and wipes a hand down his face.
He’s pretty sure what the operator’s really trying to tell him is, “Don’t bother trying ever again.”
xxx
Jensen leans against the railing outside Terminal 3 of LAX, watches a big beauty of a Boeing touch down on the runway and start its slow roll home. He doesn’t hear Riley come up beside him so much as feels it, the warm press of his best friend’s shoulder against his as he waits.
When it comes, Jensen’s voice is filled with the same dull acceptance that kept him wide-awake during a four hour flight. “He’s not gonna see me again.”
“What about you?” Riley asks, staring out over the runway. “You want to see him again?”
Jensen glances over at him, meets the calm curiosity in his friend’s eyes and struggles not to lose it. Grits his teeth, fingers clenched around the rail. “Damn it, you know I do.”
“But Jared doesn’t know that,” Riley says, and just that quickly, any righteous indignation Jensen was working on dissolves into self-created misery.
“I love him,” he says, and the words flow from his lips like they were made to be there. There’s no choking, no panic. Just an unadulterated sense of helpless frustration, because now that he’s finally realized it, it’s too fucking late. He pulls away from the railing, from Riley. Paces several feet away and comes back with his hands on his head and sick nerves pulling the corners of his mouth down. “Why can’t I be with him?”
Riley shrugs, a tired look in his eyes that Jensen’s never really noticed before now. “You’re the only one stopping yourself, Jen.”
Jensen knows it’s true. “I can’t take it,” he forces out around a tongue gone thick and heavy. “This…I feel…it’s too much.”
“Then don’t fall in love.” Riley throws his hands in the air. “There. Easy! You feel better now?”
Jensen glares at him, but there’s a truth in Riley’s point that settles down deep in his bones and takes root.
xxx
Mike, Tom, and Chad are waiting for them when Jensen and Riley finally make it to the floor lobby of the airport. Jensen takes one look at their dark, stormy expressions and almost considers ducking behind a potted fern and disappearing into the men’s room until they all get bored and go away.
But Riley’s there, and he’ll never hear the end of it, and so he faces his apparent doom with a fixed, polite smile and a wrench in his heart. Because it’s hard not to miss the one who isn’t here to greet his arrival.
“How did they know we’d be here?” Riley wants to know, and Jensen shrugs.
“They do seem to know everything.”
“You’re a bastard, Ackles,” Chad says as they approach, and Jensen rubs his eyes wearily.
“I’m not arguing your point. But I’ve had maybe an hour of sleep, and it’s been a long few days, so…maybe we could do this another time?”
“Like when you break another one of my best friends hearts?” Chad steps forward and shoves him back a full step. “Fuck you, buddy. I don’t know what the hell Jay ever saw in you, anyway…give you another few years and you’ll be a washed up has-been just like every other fag who thought he was something he wasn’t.”
Jensen’s eyes narrow. “I get that you’re upset, but-”
“Do you?” Tom asks from somewhere behind him, and Jensen blinks. He hadn’t even heard the other man move.
“Uh, guys,” Riley tries to mediate, but then Jensen feels the cold press of metal at his hip and stares down where Tom’s coat is open around the wrist, hiding the gun from everyone but Jensen and the others.
“Riley,” Jensen says a little wildly. “Some help here?”
Chad sees it next; his eyes go wide as he grabs Tom’s arm and shoves it away. “Are you fucking crazy? I told you not to bring that!”
“It’s water,” Tom hisses back, and Mike rolls his eyes.
“And a lot of good it’ll do now, genius!”
“Well, they wouldn’t know if you guys wouldn’t always question my fucking methods!”
“Maybe I wouldn’t question your methods if they lasted longer than a minute!”
Tom gasps at that, and says something under his breath that distinctly sounds like, “I didn’t hear you complaining last night, you little queenie bitch.”
“Because-”
“You guys, please shut the fuck up!” Chad grits his teeth and looks ready to blast Tom and Mike in the face with Tom’s water pistol. “Jesus. I’d rather be stuck with Jared right now, cleaning up his vomit and drool than listening to this shit. Just go fuck in the bathroom already, we all know you want to!”
Riley snorts under his breath, but Jensen’s stuck on another one of Chad’s points. “Jared’s sick?” he asks, something dark and guilty weighing in his belly. “Is he okay?”
“The fuck do you care?” Chad sneers, and it’s a definite challenge. “You dropped him like it’s hot, after fucking him into a near coma-don’t think I didn’t see the bowlegged walk of shame.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jensen manages after a beat of awkward silence. Then, plaintive, “I just…I just wanna know if he’s okay.”
“Then allow me to fill you in. No, he’s not okay. You fucked him up.” Chad looks ready and raring to have another go, and Riley quickly steps in between them.
“Look, before you mess up my boy’s pretty face here, let’s all just sit down. Have a little chat. There’s some stuff you guys need to know.”
“Riley,” Jensen grits out, because he knows where this is going and, goddamn it, he didn’t agree to it.
Riley holds his gaze with equal heat and determination. “I think it’s time, don’t you?” While Jensen’s throat works, he adds, “Or did you want to stick with my other awesome plan back at the railing?”
Don’t fall in love, Jensen. You feel any better now?
Jensen really hates it when other people make more sense than he does.
xxx
“So what happened, Jensen?” Mike drags a French fry through ketchup and feeds it to Tom. It’s a drastic change from their earlier scene, and Jensen can only shake his head in mild wonder. “What’s your sad sob story, what made you into the commitment-shy vulture you are today?”
Jensen leans back in his chair, crosses his arms. “What if I’m just an asshole?”
“Well, that’s not going to make it a very romantic story when you and Jared get back together,” Tom points out. “So you probably should at least make something up.”
These are Jared’s friends. It makes Jensen’s head ache, and damned if it doesn’t also make him even more desperately, stupidly infatuated.
“You,” Chad suddenly says, looking straight at Riley with no-nonsense attitude, and not a fair bit of curiosity. “You know something. Start talking.”
Riley blinks, looks over at Jensen. Jensen shrugs. “Um, okay.” Riley takes a deep breath, lets it out and says, “Basically? Jensen’s completely fucking fucked up.”
A beat of silence passes, and then Tom shouts, “I knew it! The pretty ones are always deranged.”
“Dude, you’re pretty,” Chad says, his disgust reaching what Jensen assumes to be pretty epic proportions.
“Exactly my point. And look who I’m fucking on a regular basis.”
“Thanks a lot. That really helped.” Jensen glares at Riley, sarcasm thick enough to butter toast.
“But it’s actually not his fault,” Riley continues, earnest sympathy rounding his words and reminding Jensen of the kid he’d grown up with, who’d been there with him through every bump in the road, every single fuck-up and fuck-over.
Who’s still here, close to twenty years later, once again trying to yank his fat out of the fire.
It makes him suddenly, irrationally angry.
“You really want to know?” he asks Chad. “Let me tell you a story, Murray. Once upon a time there was a…a legendary figure, we’ll say. Named Jensen Ross Ackles. Playboy No.1. Mr Irresistable, am I getting it all right so far?”
Everyone looks at one another, nods an affirmation.
“His deadliest move?” Jensen lowers his voice into a mocking murmur, leans across the table. “Never. Bed Twice.”
“Ugh, the pompous prick, wish I could vouch for that,” Mike grumbles, and Tom hits him in the face with a French fry.
Jensen ignores them both. He’s laying it on thick, but sarcasm and wit are the only things that are going to make this even the least bit bearable. “All the pretty little boys wanted a taste of Jensen, and hell, who was he not to give it to them, or am I right? Didn’t matter if anyone warned them ahead of time. And every time, Jensen would fuck them. Walk out, and never come back.”
“Jensen,” Riley says softly, worriedly, and Jensen grits his teeth.
“Shut up, Riley. It’s the truth, isn’t it? What they came here to find out.”
Riley holds his gaze steadily. “But what all the pretty, insistent little boys didn’t know was that Jensen’s heartless behavior was just a coping mechanism. A way to hide the fact that inside he’s just a confused, scared little boy himself who never got over-”
“Fuck you,” Jensen chokes out. Pushes his chair back to stand up over Riley, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t-”
“They’re gone, Jensen.” Riley’s voice breaks, there’s a pained flush under pale on his features and it makes the backs of Jensen’s lids burn. “They’re gone, and yeah, you’re still here. But it’s not your goddamn fault!”
“Isn’t it? Everyone I touch, everyone I lo…” His breath catches on the word. “Everyone I give a damn about is gone. And yeah, I’m still here. Perfect, irresistible Jensen. You think that’s a fucking coincidence?”
“A plane crash is a coincidence,” Riley says.
“And two plane crashes?” Everyone’s silent around them. “Three dead pets, an ex-boyfriend still recovering from severe tissue damage thanks to a house fire in a building we helped contract?”
“Dear God,” Mike says, horror evident in his tone. He steeples his hands in prayer. “Thank you for not letting me suck his dick that night when I was high on poppers.”
“There, see?” Jensen lets out a laugh that’s a little too maniacal, gesturing at Mike. “He gets it. Why won’t you?”
“There’s nothing to get! That guy has the real problem, if you ask me.”
“I so agree,” Tom says, and Jensen growls.
Riley blows out a frustrated breath and gets up, right in Jensen’s face. “Look at me. I love you, okay? And I know damn well you love me, and yet, here I am. Never been in a single plane crash, no scar tissue to speak of, I’m not dead, and you’ve got to snap the fuck out of it and realize that you’re blaming yourself for a series of tragic, horrible, and yes, coincidental events.”
“So, what, you’re superstitious? That’s it?” Chad’s voice is a mixture of surprise, pity, and something else Jensen can’t quite put his finger on.
“That’s it?” Jensen whirls on him. “Why don’t you people understand?” Anger skims the edge of his mortification and Jensen lets it come, because it’s much easier to deal with anger. “I can’t…anything I care about…”
“You’re not going to hurt him by doing anything but what you’re doing right now,” Riley says, and Jensen goes still. “Jared’s not going to mysteriously fall off the face of the planet or get mauled by a rogue mountain lion in West Hollywood because you love him.”
“Chad said he was sick.” Jensen turns toward Chad, desperation coloring his features. Chad looks caught in the headlights.
“Uh, well, yeah, but I mean. It’s because we ordered five pizzas last night and Jared ate two of them all by himself. And a pint of that crème brulee ice cream from Ben & Jerry’s.” He meets Jensen’s incredulous look and shrugs. “I wanted you to feel bad, okay? I maybe exaggerated a little…I didn’t know you were a superstitious freakazoid!”
“You said he was sick! I thought…” Jensen’s fingers curl into claws. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“You’ve got bigger problems than me,” Chad says, rounding the table as Jensen comes closer. “Jared’s gone.”
Jensen’s breath leaves him deflated, dizzy. It’s every worst nightmare he’s had over the past few days, weeks, years. “Oh, my God.”
Chad immediately realizes his mistake and flushes. “Gone as in left the area. Jesus. He bought a bus ticket to Sacramento; he has an aunt out there that he’s going to stay with until he can find a new job. Figure out his school stuff. Guess he didn’t want to do it here after all, though I can’t imagine why.”
“Why the hell didn’t you stop him?” Riley’s saying, but Jensen barely pays any attention to the angry cadence of his best friend’s voice. All he can think about is the fact that Jared’s gone, and he should be glad because it means he won’t get caught up in the weird, fucked up shit that seems to follow Jensen around like a goddamn ball and chain. Instead, he feels like someone took a knife and cut the very middle right out of him.
I’m tired of pretending.
“Not my place to stop him,” Chad says, and Jensen lifts his gaze to Jared’s best friend. “The question is, when the hell are you gonna stop him?”
xxx
Jared’s not at any of the bus stations within twenty miles of Chad’s apartment. Jensen’s shirt is soaked through, breath coming in wheezing gasps as he collapses on the curb and stares between his spread legs.
No one’s saying anything, but Jensen knows what they’re all thinking. Too little, too late, and Jensen’s just had too many goddamn chances already.
Surprisingly, it’s Tom who speaks up first. “So, what? That’s it? You’re just gonna give up now?”
“I have no idea where he is.” Jensen drops his forehead to his knee, sucks in lungfuls of air. “Fuck, I can’t breathe.”
“You can’t.” Tom bends down, slaps Jensen upside the head hard enough to rattle his brains. “You can’t do anything, can you?”
“He’ll call,” Chad says, but he doesn’t sound all that certain. “I mean, it’s Jared.”
“Not if I have his phone,” Jensen remembers. Groans. “Goddamn it.”
“Well, it’s gut-check time.” Tom crosses his arms and stares Jensen down. “How bad do you really want him, Jensen? Bad enough to get the fuck over yourself?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jensen stands on shaky legs, leans against a nearby lamppost. “God, how does Jared deal with any of you?”
“Don’t change the subject. You know what? Riley’s right. You are just a scared, sad little man. A fucking coward.” Chad’s eyes glitter like blue fire in the sun.
“Lay off,” Riley warns.
“And fuck you, too,” Chad snaps. “Coddling him like he’s in fucking diapers when what he needs is a kick in that pretty ass. What’s Fate got to do with anything, Jensen? If you’re afraid of getting hurt, just admit it and move the fuck on.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about-” Riley starts, but Jensen has a sinking feeling that maybe Chad knows exactly what he means. That Jensen’s as transparent as glass, and just as breakable.
“Don’t let Fate, coincidence, whatever the hell you want to call it shape how you feel about someone and then mope around in regret when you can’t have what you really want.” Chad shoves a hand through his short, choppy pink hair. Sighs in disgust. “I’m telling you, man. Your life’s not cursed, it’s your fucking heart.”
And even Riley can’t argue that in his defense.
Just give me a sign, Jensen begs silently, throat thick with shame and hope and frustration, helpless emotions. Give me the fucking courage not to need a sign. Please, just…give me a chance with him. One more. That’s all I want.
His pocket starts to vibrate; Jensen slowly pulls out Jared’s phone, stares at the front screen in disbelief. It’s a local call, not a programmed number, and Jensen flips the phone open. Has to clear his throat twice before saying, “Hello?”
“Hello? Who is this?” comes Jared’s voice, a thread of irritation woven into that sweet, guileless country boy accent. “Look, I think I left my phone wherever you are…would you do me a favor and give me the address? I’m kind of in a hurry, but I was hopin’ I could stop by and pick it up.”
“Yes, please.” Jensen’s breath hitches. He rattles off the name of the bus station.
“You’re…but I’m right across the street.” Jared pauses. “Huh. That’s a coincidence.”
Hello, Fate. Glad to see you finally on my side.
He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until his jaw starts to ache. “Do you believe in coincidence?”
Jared’s voice takes a turn for uncertain. “Maybe, sometimes. Not so much others.” There’s a short pause. “Who is this again? You sound really…”
“Why are you leaving? What’s wrong with where you are?”
When no answer comes, the back of Jensen’s neck prickles and he looks over his shoulder. Sees Jared standing outside of a small café, watching him from a payphone with unreadable features. “I called you the day I left,” Jensen says, voice low as he turns fully around. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“Apparently, I had an excuse. You have it.” Jared doesn’t come any closer, but doesn’t move away, either, even when Jensen starts across the street. “I called you, too. So what’s your excuse?”
“I have a problem.” He’s close enough now to see the faint smudges under Jared’s eyes, the tired, sleepy quality shading them.
“You have a lot of problems,” Jared says shakily, and then Jensen’s standing right in front of him.
They stare at each other for a long moment, then Jensen says, “Hi.”
Jared’s lips twitch. Jensen can’t tell if he wants to laugh, or cry, or punch Jensen in the face. Maybe all three. God knows Jensen feels the same way. Finally, Jared gives him a little nod. Hangs up the phone while Jensen flips his closed. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry.” It comes out on a rough whisper, and Jensen wants to reach out, touch him. “I’m so fucking sorry, and I don’t know how to prove it to you.”
“Who says I wanted you to?” Jared asks, and it feels like a slap in the face. “Can I have my phone back?”
“I’m not perfect,” Jensen chokes out, handing over the phone. He doesn’t let go of Jared’s fingers, pulls him closer and relishes the way Jared’s shaking just a little bit, too.
“You’re nothing like perfect,” Jared agrees. He licks his lips. “Perfect’s overrated.”
Warmth spreads out into his chest, and Jensen moves in more. “I’m even a little bit crazy, I think. Mostly about you.”
“I buy things off of late-night infomercials,” Jared says. Laughs a bit brokenly. “So who am I to judge.”
“Because I love you. Because you dream about me every night, and I think about you every day.” Jensen’s practically daring him to deny it, and Jared’s already softening, more than, and staring at him through those big brown-green eyes. “Because I fucking love you, damn it, and I’m sorry, and if you let me, I’ll be anything, do anything you want to make you happy.”
“What if I want to slow dance to Disco Fever before bed?”
“I can do the Hustle,” Jensen says, straight-faced and sober.
“What if let myself go in five years and none of my sexy twink clothes fit anymore and you’re stuck with an overweight giant from San Antonio with a penchant for chocolate bon-bons and late-night TV?”
“Christ, you talk a lot,” Jensen says happily. “And maybe I like a little junk in the trunk.”
That makes Jared blow out a laugh. “Fuck you, you do not.”
“I do if it’s your junk.” Jensen’s grinning outright, and he’s got Jared’s fingers tangled up in his own and neither of them give a good goddamn.
“What if I fucking love you, too,” Jared chokes out, “and I never thought I’d get to tell you because I planned on staying mad at you forever because you’re a complete jackass, and I love you, and goddamn it would you fucking stick your tongue down my throat already before Tom puts his eye out, where did he get that water pistol--”
Jensen swallows the rest of the words with his mouth, tongue, and Jared digs his fingers into his hips.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” comes a shout, and they both break away, look over to find four grinning idiots standing in front of a bus station.
“What if I make you find new friends?” Jensen whispers, and Jared laughs against his lips. Wraps his arms so tight that Jensen can’t breathe, and for the first time ever, he welcomes the feeling.
The End, or | go to Additional Acknowledgments & Soundtrack |
Pairing/Characters: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, Chad Michael Murray, Michael Rosenbaum, Tom Welling, Riley Smith, Lauren Cohan, Milo Ventimiglia, implied Chad/Sophia Bush & Mike/Tom.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; contains graphic m/m content, real person fiction, romance, drama, excessive schmoop. Also, Jared is 18 in this story; Jensen is 26.
Word Count: 25,000+
Summary: A not so stupid person once said that hope was radical. What does that say about romance? [ +]
Notes: Written for abouttwoboys, based on the film Formula 17.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Additional Acknowledgments & Soundtrack
I Don’t Want to Be In Love [But You’re Making Me]
written by keepaofthecheez.
Part 3.
Steve’s watching him.
Jensen tries to ignore the hollow, lifeless black eyes, focuses on the latest contract obligations for his business trip to Chicago. But the mannequin hovers nearby, mocking him with everything Jensen’s too scared to take control of.
He glances over, narrows his gaze in a challenge. Steve stares back, and Jensen snaps.
Grabbing the mannequin from the corner Jensen banished him to a week ago, Jensen tucks him under his arm and stomps through the living room. Reaches for the door, ready to toss the damn thing out and into the street if it’ll just stop watching him. Judging him.
He flings open the door, prepared to be met with dark and privacy, and instead finds a familiar figure bent over before him. Sweet, tight little ass in faded jeans, and Jensen can only stare as Jared cusses under his breath and keeps digging his fingers through Jensen’s front lawn.
“Where are you…c’mon…”
Jensen blinks. Struggles to tear his gaze away from the curve of Jared’s ass to figure out what the hell the kid’s doing at his house this time of night. It’s almost as if Jensen’s pulled him out of thin air, just to torment himself a little more with all of the things he’s dying for, but can’t seem to get.
His shoulder starts to protest at the weight of the mannequin, and Jensen looks down at Steve. His eyes widen; he grabs the damn thing and shoves it back behind the door at the same time Jared huffs out a sigh and comes to his feet. Turns around and meets Jensen’s gaze.
Jared freezes, and Jensen’s pretty sure he’s not imagining the glow spreading across his face. “Oh. Um.” He lifts his hand in a wave. “Hi.”
Jensen sends him a flustered grin, then about loses his shit when Steve starts to slide back out of the door. He reaches inside at an awkward angle, smile fixed on his lips. “Jared. Hey.”
Jared doesn’t even seem to notice Jensen’s epic battle with the mannequin. He’s all but wringing his hands, biting his lip and looking anywhere but directly at Jensen’s face. “Uh, you didn’t happen to…see…anything just now…” He trails off lamely.
“No,” Jensen says quickly. Then waits a beat. “Uh, did you?”
Jared blinks long lashes. “Did I what?”
“See anything,” Jensen presses, a little snappier than he really wanted, but hell. He’s still trying to hide a damn mannequin from the guy he wants to have really hot, illicit sex with but can’t because he’s completely fucked up, which is why he needs the damn mannequin in the first place.
Jared just shakes his head. “No, I just. I came out to get some ice cream.”
That makes Jensen raise a brow. Chad lives on the other side of the city. “And you had to come all the way out here for the best Rocky Road?” he jokes, and sees Jared’s embarrassment grow. Jensen grins then, his own mortification forgotten in the wake of Jared’s unbearable appeal. “I’m glad you did.”
Jared’s gaze snaps to his; a slow smile crosses his lips. “Yeah? Well…good.”
“Great.” Jensen leans a forearm against the door, takes in the thin hoodie half-zipped up Jared’s chest, the snug jeans. He’s sure the kid has no idea just how attractive he is, and it drives Jensen a little crazier. He wants to get his hands on Jared, all over him. Now.
Jared’s studying him, too, eyes lidded and warm, and Jensen suddenly realizes he’s standing on his front porch in nothing but a pair of drawstring pants and an open shirt. He’s never worried over what other people might see when they look at him. Now it’s all he can think about.
“You wanna come inside?” he says, voice a near rasp. Jared nods slowly, still staring somewhere south of Jensen’s nose. Jensen reflexively licks his lips, and Jared’s breath shudders.
“I’m tired of this.”
Jensen’s gaze snaps up at those quiet words, alive and vibrant, awkward smile fading away into a combination of both hope and terror, and Jared looks equally terrified to keep going, even as he opens his mouth again.
Voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just stop pretending, okay?”
Jensen just stares at him. He doesn’t recognize the sort of desperate hunger building inside of him, just knows it’s almost painful to push back down. They lapse into silence; Jensen’s fingers flirt at the edge of Jared’s hoodie and he never even saw Jared move.
“Tell me how,” Jensen finally says, begs, hearing the slur in his own voice. He spreads his fingers across Jared’s lower belly, feels Jared shivering underneath his touch. “Jay, I…”
Jared grabs hold of the back of Jensen’s neck, catches his mouth with his own. Jensen goes still for all of a second, warm, wet, and then he’s groaning into Jared’s mouth. He’s got both hands on Jared’s hips, tugging him closer. Can’t get enough.
Jared’s not shy when it comes to kissing; he takes over immediately, and Jensen goes with it. Lets Jared fuck his mouth with his tongue, sucks it deep, working Jared’s hoodie, shirt over that shaggy head.
“Inside,” he gets out between sharp gasps of breath. Jared chases his mouth, his own already swelling bright and pink, and Jensen hauls him backward and into the house. Slams the door with a foot and pushes Jared up against it. “Goddamn, kid. Just…slow down a minute.”
Jared’s panting and disheveled, staring down at Jensen with flushed, hungry features. “Please, I don’t wanna…” He makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, grabs Jensen’s hand. Jensen nearly embarrasses himself when Jared jerks apart his own fly, shoves Jensen’s hand down against his hard dick.
“Fuck.” He blows out a ragged breath, stares back up at Jared. “Are you…are you sure this is what you want?”
He doesn’t know why he’s asking and not just taking. But he suddenly, desperately wants it to be enough for Jared. Wants himself to be enough, and he moves his fingers just so. Just enough to rip a mewling groan from Jared’s pretty mouth, those eyes falling half-closed.
“God, yes,” Jared breathes, and then Jensen’s kissing him again.
He maneuvers them to the bedroom, jerking at Jared’s pants until they’re hanging from his ankles and Jared trips over them. Lands on the bed with a bounce before Jensen’s crawling over him.
“Wanna taste you,” he’s saying, babbling, brushing shaggy hair off of Jared’s face and dropping slow, wet kisses on his mouth. His neck, his chest. “Fuck, I wanna eat you all up. You’re so…so goddamn…” Mine, he thinks, and looks up to find Jared’s head thrown back against Jensen’s pillow. His jaw clenched, cheeks pretty-pink. “Can I do anything to you, Jared?” Jensen asks, a gravelly purr that sends Jared’s hips into a sweet rock and roll.
“Please,” he gasps, and damn if that one word doesn’t sound so fucking sweet dripping off of those lips. Jensen’s never really noticed how big and beautiful Jared’s hands are, not until he’s sucking two of Jared’s fingers and using them to trace his own mouth.
“I wanna fuck you all up.” The words come out gritty and honest; he’s burning hot, hard, skimming his lips from Jared’s mouth to his cheek. He steals a taste of that dark, tempting mark. Laves it with the tip of his tongue, hips grinding down against Jared’s, and Jensen relishes the sweet groan it produces.
“I want your mouth,” Jared slurs, sandpaper-rough voice, and Jensen grins. He knows then and there he’ll never get tired of hearing Jared demand dirty, filthy things of him. Is already sliding his mouth across Jared’s collarbone. His belly. Jared’s good and leaking, flushed and waiting for hot press of Jensen’s lips. Jensen wraps his fist around Jared’s pretty cock, squeezes tight.
“Say it again.”
“Suck me,” Jared says, whispers like a good little boy, and Jensen drops a kiss on that wet, aching tip. Jared’s breath comes out in a hiss, hips rolling again, and he drops a hand on Jensen’s head. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
It’s pretty obvious within seconds that Jared’s never really had a blowjob before, and Jensen’s not surprised. Then again, Jared’s dick is a fucking feast, and he wonders just how many of the people Jared’s turned down would’ve given more than Jensen just to get a quick taste of perfection.
“Oh, God,” Jared laughs, gasps, and Jensen looks up to find Jared’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s gripping the sheets so hard his big knuckles are white, his voice fretful. “Jen. I’m gonna…”
Jensen sits up on his elbows, Jared’s flesh still a warm reminder on his tongue. “I hope you do,” he says, moving to jack Jared slow and steady. “I wanna see how pretty it’ll be.”
At that, Jared’s eyes fly open. “No way. That’s…not hot.” He chokes on the word, embarrassment cloying his features, and he makes an attempt to pull away. Jensen tightens his grasp.
“It fucking is.” Jensen holds his gaze, deliberating sucks a kiss against the shiny-wet tip of Jared’s cock. Jared grunts, eyes going soft and wide, and Jensen rubs him all over his mouth. “You’re young…and juicy. Hot as hell.”
“Damn,” Jared groans, throwing an arm over his face. “I can’t…when you’re talking like that…I can’t keep it…”
“I don’t want you to.” Jensen says it softly, but firms up his handle on Jared. “Come on, Jay, all over me, yeah? That what you want?”
Jared’s toes curl in answer, his breath stuttering in his chest quick seconds before his cock jerks in Jensen’s fist. He’s shuddering all over when Jensen leans up and finds his mouth. Strokes him off through the whole thing, biting at Jared’s bottom lip. The filth staining Jared’s tongue is enough to have Jensen pressing his hips against the mattress. He wants to rub off then and there, all up on that big, hot body with Jared’s sweat and come slippery between them.
Then Jared looks up at him through spiky-wet lashes and says, “I want you to fuck me.”
xxx
Jared’s ears are ringing with his own words, brain still struggling to catch up with the orgasm that just ripped him from the inside out. But he’s even more focused on Jensen, on the myriad of emotions fleeting across his features before he finally drops his head between his shoulders and lets out something resembling a laugh.
Jared might be a little pissed off, embarrassed, if it weren’t for the hard press of Jensen’s dick against his leg. Because he can feel just how much Jensen wants it, too, and that has Jared grabbing him by the hair and forcing Jensen’s gaze back to his. The heat there startles him for all of a second, then he’s responding. Sitting up to mouth up and under Jensen’s jaw. “How do you want me?” he asks, cringing a little because it sounds like something out of one of the cheesy pornos Chad’s tried to force on him, but Jensen trembles and groans.
Jared goes with it. Hums against Jensen’s neck, tongue working pressure-point to Jensen’s pulse. “On my back?” He reaches between them, finds out how much Jensen likes that idea. “Belly?” Jensen gives an aborted thrust; his breath has an odd, almost choking quality to it, and Jared pulls back enough to look up. “I don’t…I could try and ride…I don’t know…will that even work?”
“God, shut up,” Jensen finally grits out, and then Jared finds himself spread out across the mattress. Jensen’s eyes are all pupil, glazed over as he licks his lips and drags his gaze down slow. Then, “You wanna get fucked, do you?”
Jared swallows. By you? “Oh, yeah.”
Jensen doesn’t ask again. Just closes his eyes for all of a second before opening them again, gazing down hard and demanding, “Roll over. Show me what I’m gettin’ first, then.”
Oh, shit.
This is the infamous Playboy No. 1 speaking, Jared knows, not Jensen. And yet, there’s a distinct gleam of tenderness, possession flickering in those gold-green eyes and it makes it all okay. Jared bites his lip and moves onto his belly. Doesn’t even hesitate before dropping his head into folded arms and squeezing his eyes shut.
There’s a muttered curse from behind him, and then Jensen’s hand settles down low on his back. Presses deep. “Gorgeous,” he says thickly, and Jared lifts his hips.
“Just go easy when you give it to me,” he tries to joke, but gets distracted by the warmth of Jensen’s mouth at the base of his spine. “Uh…God. What’re you…”
“Gonna give it to you, all right,” Jensen says against his skin. Sinks his teeth into Jared’s hip. “You’re a talker, huh?”
“I guess so,” Jared gasps, and it trails off into a groan when Jensen’s nails scritch-scratch a path toward his balls. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, it makes it hard to get the rest out. “Is-Is that bad?”
“Nothing about you’s bad.” Jensen swears it with teeth and tongue, and soon Jared’s ready and raring to go, all but humping down on the mattress for friction. Jensen grabs him by the hips, pulls his ass high.
Jared gnashes his teeth at the first finger, circling his hole almost like a blatant tease. Then comes Jensen’s voice, a husky murmur that sends fire up his spine.
“You ever played around back here, Jay?” Jensen’s chest brushes his back as he leans over, digs around in the night table above Jared’s head. “Ever fuck yourself, stretch yourself out and think about cock?”
“Would you be surprised if I have?” Jared grits out, and tries to settle back on Jensen’s finger.
“Who do you think about?” Jensen says quietly, and there’s a hint of jealousy coloring his voice that has Jared grinning lazy and stupid against the pillows.
You, he thinks. I just didn’t know it. Out loud he admits, “I never saw his face before.”
If Jensen’s curious about the vague answer, he doesn’t press for more details. But he does press that finger right up inside, sweat and lube easing the way. Rests that filthy, pretty mouth up against Jared’s ear and whispers. “You ready for more?”
It takes three to stretch him wide enough, and by the time Jensen’s covered and wet and ready to go, Jared’s flushed all over and hiding his face in the blankets. “Please,” he whines, no longer caring if he sounds like the inexperienced virgin he’s no longer about to be.
“Drop your shoulders down a little,” Jensen gets out, fingers smearing leftover come and lube across Jared’s lower back as he forces him down lower. “Take a deep breath…ready?”
“Goddamn it, yes--” Jared’s urgent plea is strangled by Jensen’s dick, moving in and pulling Jared tight around him. He tries to grit his teeth and roll with the sharp burst of pain, but can’t quite bite back a groan. Salt gathers at the corners of his eyes, and it stings when he blinks it away. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”
“You’re burning me up.” Jensen’s voice is tight and thready. “Jay, I gotta…are you…?”
“Do it,” Jared says, tasting blood where he’s bitten down so hard while Jensen was fucking into him. “I asked you to, I want it.”
Jensen fucks him through a litany of curses and oaths, until Jared’s backing into him and begging quicker, harder, Jesus, and then his hand wraps around Jared’s hair. Hips still working, he tugs Jared’s head up until he can bend down and press their mouths together. It’s an awkward angle, but it does something fucking incredible inside of him, and Jared licks Jensen’s bottom lip and fucks back on his cock.
“I can’t believe I waited so long to do this,” he laughs out loud, voice breaking when Jensen lets out a breathy sound and his hips stutter. “God…I hate when Chad’s right.”
Jensen’s answer is a thick, dreamy slur. “I can’t get deep enough. I’m in you, and I can’t get…deep enough in you.” He doesn’t give Jared a chance to respond, just keeps right on in a dirty soliloquy, “I wanna fuck you until you shoot all over my bed. Wanna wipe my face in it, then just…fuck you s’more…”
And all Jared can manage is, “Oh…yeah” before he is shooting all over Jensen’s expensive sheets, eyes squeezed shut, body still wrapped tight around Jensen’s cock.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Jay.” Jensen slides an arm around him, pulls him up and back while somehow staying steady on his knees. “I wanna fucking see that shit…” He grabs Jared’s dick, fingering the sloppy-wet head and Jared turns his head. Pants into Jensen’s neck as Jensen comes apart inside him.
xxx
Jared wakes up with the sun in his eyes and a lightness in his heart he hasn’t felt since before phantom dreams began to plague his sleep. Now though…his lips curve into a grin as he thinks about the flashes of cool water, warm lips.
Now he has a face to go with it, and Jared opens his eyes. Looks across the pillow to find Jensen’s cheek pressed up against his shoulder. His hair’s sticking up, that perfect pink mouth still swollen and bruised. Jared licks across his own, remembering, and turns on his side to get a better look at the sleeping playboy who’s got his heart on a goddamn short leash.
He aches all over. Between his thighs, his shoulders. But it burns down deep and makes Jared glad. He’s just starting to wonder if he should get up, find his phone and check-in with Chad before his best friend sends out a search party-assuming Chad even realizes he’s missing yet-when Jensen’s lids squeeze tight.
Jared’s breath catches somewhere in the center of his chest; he waits for those eyes to open, slow, wondering, and he knows the instant Jensen realizes what’s happened. Where he is, and who’s there with him.
Jared smiles brightly, nervous tension crawling up his spine as a shadow crosses Jensen’s face. “Hi.”
He knows he’s blushing…it feels ridiculous to have done the things they did last night, and then be uncertain about a stupid greeting in the morning. But Jensen’s not really helping matters, staring at Jared like he doesn’t even know who he is, and Jared’s smile falters several seconds into it.
Then Jensen smiles back, expression clear, familiar, and he clears his throat. Rolls onto his back. “Hey, there.”
Okay. Still not a glowing endorsement, but hell, Jared knows Jensen now. Knows what’s deeper than the front he puts up for everyone else, thinks that maybe Jensen’s just as nervous as he is. He scoots closer, closes his fingers around Jensen’s elbow. “You wanna, um…”
He loses his train of thought when Jensen slants him a knowing look, lips edged up in the barest hint of a smirk. Jared buries his face in the pillow and laughs.
“Not that! I meant…do you wanna shower or …something, I dunno.”
He has no idea how this is supposed to go now.
Jensen watches him for a moment, then shakes his head just a little. Softens it with a secret smile. “You go first.”
Jared’s eyes narrow; Jensen’s voice has a weird, almost panicked quality to it, despite the easy grin on his face. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says, a little louder, and swallows. “I…you need to soak your muscles, anyway. You’re probably sore.”
“Just a little.” Jared laughs, and Jensen returns it weakly. Jared shakes off the concern, determined to focus on the fact that Jensen wants this, him, as much as he wants Jensen. It’s one of the very few things he’s sure of at all. “Okay, I’ll go first. You make breakfast.”
He shifts, swings a leg over the end of the bed, and almost collapses on the ground when pain shoots through his lower body. Jensen sits up and grabs hold of his shoulder. Genuine worry darkens his eyes, deepens his voice. “You okay?”
Jared grins and offers him an easy salute. Heads off toward the bathroom with a light song under his breath.
Everything’s gonna be just fine.
xxx
“C’mon, c’mon…pick up.” Jensen plucks his bottom lip anxiously, the steady sound of a dial tone in his ear. He can hear Jared in the shower, singing off-key to an old Our Lady Peace song, and it makes Jensen’s breath come that much faster.
God, don’t do this to me, he thinks desperately, feeling the attack building up as he catches sight of their clothes on the floor. Jared’s hoodie tossed carelessly over the back of a chair. “Goddamn it, Lauren,” he says when the line goes to voicemail, and turns the phone off without leaving a message. Throws it on the bed and then sinks down beside it.
Jared’s voice hits a particularly high note, and Jensen flinches.
He has to get the hell out of here, right now.
Five minutes later he’s dressed and driving down the LA freeway toward Santa Monica. By the time Riley answers the door, sleepy-eyed and confused, Jensen’s practically clawing at his throat and shoves past his startled best friend.
Riley follows him into the kitchen, watches as Jensen all but bangs his head into the hard, granite counter. “Jensen, what the-”
“I can’t do it,” Jensen says over him, turning and flashing Riley straight-on with every bit of freaked out terror that’s possessed him since he woke up and saw Jared smiling at him. Soft, lazy, fucking stars in his eyes, and he doesn’t even know… “I can’t be there, Riley.”
“Okay, slow down.” Riley approaches slowly, like he’s afraid Jensen might decide to take a swing. “Can’t be where? What happened?”
“I kissed him,” is, inanely, the first thing to come out of Jensen’s mouth. Riley blinks, and he quickly adds, “I fucked him, and when I woke up, he was still there, and he looked fucking perfect there, Riley. And God, he shouldn’t. He has no fucking idea, and.”
“Breathe, Jensen.” Riley moves toward the fridge, pulls out a frozen ice block and tosses it over. Jensen catches it against his chest. “You’re sweating and flushed and you look like you’re about ready to pass the fuck out, man. Chill.”
A chair’s shoved up under Jensen’s knees, and he collapses gratefully into the cushion. He brings the ice up to his burning cheeks and it works as a shocking tranquilizer.
“So, you and Jared hooked up.” Riley’s eyes are piercing. Jensen nods miserably. “And you kissed him. On the mouth?”
“God, this conversation is so fucking…yes, I kissed him on the goddamn mouth and I didn’t need a mannequin to do it, okay?”
“Well, there you go. Why are you freaking out?”
The crushing pressure’s starting to subside, replaced by a sense of doom and depression. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Okay,” Riley says slowly. “Well, where is he now.”
Jensen winces, eyes closing as he imagines Jared coming out of the bathroom only to find Jensen gone, the place empty and deserted. Riley correctly interprets his silence and curses out loud.
“Jesus Christ, Jen!” He wipes a hand down his face while Jensen presses the ice against the other side of his face. Then, “You have to go back over there. Now.”
“I can’t.” It’s the only thing Jensen does know right now, and he ignores the warning look in Riley’s eye. Stands up and throws the ice on the counter. “I can’t, all right? I just…I can’t see him right now.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” There’s a brief pause, and then quieter, “Would it really be the end of the world if you liked him?”
Jensen’s gaze snaps up at the echo of Lauren’s words. “Like him?” he laughs, but there’s no amusement in his tone. “God, I wish I did. You can stop liking someone, right? Just…stop.” He swallows and stares down at his hands. “What happens when you can’t stop? What happens when it…it’s so fucking beyond like, and…”
Understanding dawns across Riley’s features, and with it a soft oath. “Fuck, Jen. It’s like that, then?”
Jensen stares back at him helplessly before dropping his forehead into his hands.
xxx
Jared stares up at the ceiling over Jensen’s bed. Wonders why he never noticed that there’s water damage in the shape of duck, or maybe a horse, right above his head. He’s always noticing weird details like that about every place he goes, only this time…the only thing he was noticing was Jensen, and it makes him feel a little bit goofy. A little bit giddy.
He’s long since dried off from his shower, and sits up. Wonders when Jensen’s going to get back from wherever he disappeared to so that they can finally, finally talk about…whatever this thing is.
Of course, Jared knows what he’d like for it to mean, but first Jensen needs to be on the same page. And yeah, okay, that probably makes him one-hundred percent the girl here, but then he thinks about being shoved face-first against the bed and fucked, and finds he doesn’t really mind all that much.
Just as he’s thinking it, there’s the sound of a key in the front door, and Jared jumps off the bed. Already breaking into an impish grin, he turns the corner into the living room.
“So, I was thinking, maybe this time I could suck you off first, and then you can fuck me in the…” He trails off, coming face to face with Riley’s flushing features as the other man stares at him with a classic deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Confusion settles deep in Jared’s belly; he shakes his head as Riley says, “Uh. Hey there, Jared.”
“Hi,” Jared says. “I was, um, waiting for-”
“Jensen, yeah.” There’s an awkward pause as Riley’s jaw works, and the confusion turns to a slowly-growing, sickening dread. “Well, it’s…it’s complicated,” Riley’s saying, and Jared thinks of the shadows on Jensen’s face. “He’s at my place right now.”
The statement goes through Jared like a hot knife through butter; he takes a step backward and glimpses one of his socks lying in a scraggly white tube against the bedroom door. He can already hear Mike’s tough, no-nonsense shrill in his head, “You knew better. What the fuck did you expect to happen?”
“Look, some things are hard for him to explain,” Riley says, a plea lifting his voice and making Jared blink. And then, “That’s why I’m here.”
Jared nods blankly. Turns away and reaches over to pick up his sock. He shoves it into his back pocket and swallows against the lump blocking his voice. “Oh,” he manages a second later, and he hates how weak it sounds. How fucking pathetic, and he hates it, and he hates the pity on Riley’s face, and most of all, he hates Jensen.
Riley’s followed him to the door, uncertainty shining in kind blue eyes even as Jared shoots him a look so venomous he almost imagines he can see smoke rising from the ashes of Riley’s body. “Jared, he doesn’t want you to misunderstand-”
“Stop, just…” Jared takes a deep breath, lets it out in a shaky laugh. “Stop. Do me a favor Riley, tell Jensen…” He looks away, at the mess of the bed. His voice sharpens to a point. “Tell Playboy No. 1 that this kind of misunderstanding won’t happen again.”
“Jared, wait,” Riley calls after him, but he doesn’t exactly try to stop him from leaving. And that’s really more than enough of an answer.
xxx
Jensen grabs three suit jackets off their hangars and tosses them in a pile on his bed. Shoes follow, slacks, ties, and when he has everything he needs he walks over. Grabs an armful of the clothing and dumps it in the open suitcase on his mattress.
“Jensen,” Riley says, but Jensen ignores him in favor of balling up three dress shirts.
He hasn’t bothered making the bed. Can’t quite bring himself to change the sheets, to get rid of the smell of Jared and himself and sex and come, and-
“Jensen.”
He slams the too-full suitcase shut and catches the tip of his index finger on the zipper. Blood begins to well up between the bruised teeth-marks, and Riley mutters a curse under his breath.
“Are you all right?” he asks, and for the first time since Riley got back, since they left for Jensen’s house together to pack for this goddamn fucking business trip that Jensen can’t even think about because the only thing he can seem to think about is over six feet tall, lean, and gorgeous, he looks up. Meets Riley’s gaze.
The question burns on his tongue, breaks his voice in two. “What did you say to him?”
Riley sighs. Sinks down on the bed next to him and scrubs a hand down his face. “I said you were at my place, and…not to misunderstand.”
“Don’t misunderstand?” Jensen blinks. Then, “He’s fucking crazy if he doesn’t understand!”
“You’re fucking crazy!” Riley returns, agitated and angry and everything else he’s never been, not with Jensen. Not any of the times he’s had to kick out an unwelcome trick the next morning, or get Jensen out of a tight spot with one’s boyfriend, girlfriend. As if he’s reading Jensen’s mind, he shouts, “How many times are you going to let someone else clean up your mess?” His eyes are bright. “When are you going to finally talk about it?”
Jensen stands up, paces away to the closet door and stares into it. “As if I want to?”
There’s a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and then Riley’s got both of his shoulders in a vise, shoving Jensen up against the wall. They’re both breathing hard, glaring at each other with various emotions that Jensen can’t even put a name to anymore because everything he feels walked out of the door and is probably never coming back.
“Then don’t get involved,” Riley says between his teeth, knuckles white against Jensen’s sleeves. “You fucking idiot.”
“Let me go.”
“Like you did him?” Riley tosses back, and it’s meant to sting. Wound, and it doesn’t miss the mark. Still, his friend releases him, anger melting to concern and frustration as Jensen stares down at his feet with burning eyes. “Is it really that much easier?”
No, Jensen wants to choke out. It feels like I’m goddamn dying.
“Come on,” Riley says. “Talk to him. Figure this out, Jensen. Move past it all. That’s what Lauren was really trying to tell you…you don’t need a mirror, or a mannequin. You need a fucking pair of balls--”
Jensen shoves past him and grabs the phone. Punches in the familiar number and struggles against the ever-simmering anxiety deep down in his gut. A second passes by, two, and then the tinny sounds of Our Lady Peace float up from somewhere behind him.
Jensen looks around; Riley moves toward the pile of Jensen’s clothes from last night, reaches down and pulls out a slim black phone that somehow got lost in the shuffle. Jensen stares at his own name on the Caller ID, along with a goofy smiley face that’s so heartbreakingly Jared that it makes him feel sick inside.
xxx
Jared’s curled up on the couch when Chad walks in with coffee and a bag of Krispy Kreme. He takes one look at Jared’s face and drops the pastries on the ground. “I’ll fucking kill the bastard. No, better yet, I’ll finally let Mike at him and he’ll fucking kill-”
“Don’t,” Jared says, his voice husky and unused. “Just…turn off the light when you go, okay?”
Chad’s jaw works, but he picks up his breakfast and turns right back around. Clicks off the light and shuts the door.
Jared pulls his blanket up and over his head.
xxx
“What else did he say?” Jensen asks, rushing through the airport, hot on Riley’s heels. They have less than an hour before their business flight takes off, thanks to Jensen’s unprecedented and unforeseen monumental breakdown.
“I’ll tell you on the plane,” comes Riley’s hurried answer, and Jensen bites back the several less than pleasant replies he has to that. None of this is Riley’s fault, except for the part where he decided to be best friends with a hopeless freaking lunatic.
The flight’s already boarding when they finally reach the gate, and Jensen goes through the motions, lets the stewardess store his meager luggage and sinks down into the window seat next to Riley. Stares at his best friend out of wounded, helpless eyes until Riley heaves a sigh and rubs his temple.
“He said something about how it would never happen again. That kind of misunderstanding,” Riley says, and Jensen’s heart gives a dull thud.
“It’s over,” he says, because that’s what Jared means.
Riley won’t meet his gaze, which just cements the fact. Then, “What did you expect to happen, Jensen?”
And that’s the problem, right there. He hasn’t expected any of this to happen. Never expected to fall this quick and hard and dangerous, and especially not over someone like Jared Padalecki. Innocent and sweet and capable of tying Jensen up in knots just looking at him.
They sit in silence for several minutes before Jensen can’t stand it anymore. “Great timing for a fucking business trip.”
“Great timing to fall in love,” Riley returns pointedly, and Jensen stares out of the window with his lips pressed tight together until they’re flying high over the ground.
xxx
Chad thinks he’s being sly, but Jared knows his friend all too well. It’s a shame, really, because any other time and he might be able to appreciate the effort going into the little scene across the room. As it is, he’s just trying to keep down the handful of Doritos he had for lunch after a second wave of nausea had him locking himself in the bathroom for an hour and a half.
“The zoo stays open later this time of year,” Tom says, just loud enough to carry. “Oh, oh! We could try and pet the monkies!”
Jared snorts into his hand, but doesn’t look over when someone-he’s betting on Chad-slaps Tom in the back of the head.
“Ow! Jesus, what? He looks like the kinda guy who likes monkies!”
“Jared,” Mike sings, floating up behind him and tickling the top of his head. “Sweetie, darling, sugarpie. You smell like a foot.”
More than likely, it’s the leftover remains of this morning’s breakfast currently staining Jared’s t-shirt.
“Why don’t you take a nice, long shower,” Mike says, ruffling Jared’s hair with his too-long press-ons, “Mmm…get those pretty muscles all soapy and delicious…”
“Mike,” Chad says plaintively.
“Right. I mean, you know, jerk off, whatever, and then when you no longer smell like Chad’s asscrack-”
“Hey!”
“-we can get dressed and go let Tommy play with the monkies. You’ll feel better.”
“I have a better idea,” Jared says suddenly, and all three of them stare at him with varying degrees of concerned, hesitant interest. “Have any of you ever been sky-diving?”
Chad blinks. “You hate flying.”
Jared ignores this very true fact. “Or how about parasailing…that’s the one where they tie you to a boat and drag you all over the fucking place, right?”
Mike and Tom exchange a glance that Jared can’t read, but it pisses him off nonetheless.
“It’s…pretty dangerous, Jared,” Chad says uncertainly, and Jared grins, rubs his hands together.
“Awesome, let’s do it.”
xxx
Everyone’s clapping during the round-table presentation, but Jensen doesn’t hear a word being said. He’s been staring blankly at his notes for the Chow-Yang project, none of it making any sense, none of it even mattering.
Someone clears their throat; Jensen finally blinks, looks up to see everyone watching him expectantly. Waiting. It’s his turn to fill the buyers in on the latest developments back West, and the only thing he can think about is how angry, hurt Jared probably felt when Riley broke the news that Jensen had left and wasn’t planning to come back.
Not right away, at least, not that Jared knew that, or Riley, or hell, even Jensen himself. Until the minute he realized he couldn’t come back now, because Jared wouldn’t even want him to.
This kind of misunderstanding won’t happen again.
Warm fingers close around the index cards, balance sheets in his hands, and then Riley’s sending him a reassuring smile and standing up to continue the presentation. Jensen sinks down lower in his chair once the attention’s on Riley, and presses a fist to stinging, wet eyes.
xxx
Turns out that parasailing isn’t really Jared’s sport.
Chad finally forgives him for the afternoon’s events after Jared promises to never go all schitzophrenic psychopath after a break-up ever again, and then goes to bed early with only a few bruises coloring both cheeks of his ass.
Jared doesn’t really think it’s his fault that he got tangled up in the cords and wound up dragging Chad a good fifty feet across the beach before they got it all straightened out, but the least he can do is apologize. It was his idea in the first place.
Now the apartment’s dark, silent, save for Chad’s light snoring from the bedroom. Jared lifts his head and punches his pillow a few times to fluff it up. Stretches his legs out along the length of the couch and wonders when he’ll ever be able to get his own place.
Unbidden, the thought of Jensen’s house, clean lines and neat angles and just all-around Jensen pops into his head. Jared grits his teeth and barely refrains from shouting obscenities at the ceiling.
He knows what went down, but there’s a tiny part of him still waiting for Jensen to call. For some kind of goddamn explanation to help Jared make sense of the situation. Not that there’s really anything to make sense of-Jensen was looking for a good time, and a new trick, and Jared is the one who went and fell in love like a stupid country mouse fresh off the farm. He’s the one who made the mistake of thinking simple sex meant something more.
Still…
His eyes fall on the blinking light of Chad’s answering machine. The phone sits tall beside it, and Jared freezes. His fingers twitch, and before he knows what he’s even doing, he’s crawling across the floor like a cat burglar, desperately trying not to wake up his sleeping best friend, and calling the number of the asshole who dumped him not even twelve hours earlier.
“What am I doing?” he mumbles to himself, chewing his bottom lip as the other line rings and rings. “He’s probably screening his calls for crazy ex-boyfriends, and fuck, I’m not even a boyfriend, I’m just an-”
“The cellular customer you’re trying to reach is unavailable. Please try your call again later.”
Jared sits back on his knees, mutes the receiver and wipes a hand down his face.
He’s pretty sure what the operator’s really trying to tell him is, “Don’t bother trying ever again.”
xxx
Jensen leans against the railing outside Terminal 3 of LAX, watches a big beauty of a Boeing touch down on the runway and start its slow roll home. He doesn’t hear Riley come up beside him so much as feels it, the warm press of his best friend’s shoulder against his as he waits.
When it comes, Jensen’s voice is filled with the same dull acceptance that kept him wide-awake during a four hour flight. “He’s not gonna see me again.”
“What about you?” Riley asks, staring out over the runway. “You want to see him again?”
Jensen glances over at him, meets the calm curiosity in his friend’s eyes and struggles not to lose it. Grits his teeth, fingers clenched around the rail. “Damn it, you know I do.”
“But Jared doesn’t know that,” Riley says, and just that quickly, any righteous indignation Jensen was working on dissolves into self-created misery.
“I love him,” he says, and the words flow from his lips like they were made to be there. There’s no choking, no panic. Just an unadulterated sense of helpless frustration, because now that he’s finally realized it, it’s too fucking late. He pulls away from the railing, from Riley. Paces several feet away and comes back with his hands on his head and sick nerves pulling the corners of his mouth down. “Why can’t I be with him?”
Riley shrugs, a tired look in his eyes that Jensen’s never really noticed before now. “You’re the only one stopping yourself, Jen.”
Jensen knows it’s true. “I can’t take it,” he forces out around a tongue gone thick and heavy. “This…I feel…it’s too much.”
“Then don’t fall in love.” Riley throws his hands in the air. “There. Easy! You feel better now?”
Jensen glares at him, but there’s a truth in Riley’s point that settles down deep in his bones and takes root.
xxx
Mike, Tom, and Chad are waiting for them when Jensen and Riley finally make it to the floor lobby of the airport. Jensen takes one look at their dark, stormy expressions and almost considers ducking behind a potted fern and disappearing into the men’s room until they all get bored and go away.
But Riley’s there, and he’ll never hear the end of it, and so he faces his apparent doom with a fixed, polite smile and a wrench in his heart. Because it’s hard not to miss the one who isn’t here to greet his arrival.
“How did they know we’d be here?” Riley wants to know, and Jensen shrugs.
“They do seem to know everything.”
“You’re a bastard, Ackles,” Chad says as they approach, and Jensen rubs his eyes wearily.
“I’m not arguing your point. But I’ve had maybe an hour of sleep, and it’s been a long few days, so…maybe we could do this another time?”
“Like when you break another one of my best friends hearts?” Chad steps forward and shoves him back a full step. “Fuck you, buddy. I don’t know what the hell Jay ever saw in you, anyway…give you another few years and you’ll be a washed up has-been just like every other fag who thought he was something he wasn’t.”
Jensen’s eyes narrow. “I get that you’re upset, but-”
“Do you?” Tom asks from somewhere behind him, and Jensen blinks. He hadn’t even heard the other man move.
“Uh, guys,” Riley tries to mediate, but then Jensen feels the cold press of metal at his hip and stares down where Tom’s coat is open around the wrist, hiding the gun from everyone but Jensen and the others.
“Riley,” Jensen says a little wildly. “Some help here?”
Chad sees it next; his eyes go wide as he grabs Tom’s arm and shoves it away. “Are you fucking crazy? I told you not to bring that!”
“It’s water,” Tom hisses back, and Mike rolls his eyes.
“And a lot of good it’ll do now, genius!”
“Well, they wouldn’t know if you guys wouldn’t always question my fucking methods!”
“Maybe I wouldn’t question your methods if they lasted longer than a minute!”
Tom gasps at that, and says something under his breath that distinctly sounds like, “I didn’t hear you complaining last night, you little queenie bitch.”
“Because-”
“You guys, please shut the fuck up!” Chad grits his teeth and looks ready to blast Tom and Mike in the face with Tom’s water pistol. “Jesus. I’d rather be stuck with Jared right now, cleaning up his vomit and drool than listening to this shit. Just go fuck in the bathroom already, we all know you want to!”
Riley snorts under his breath, but Jensen’s stuck on another one of Chad’s points. “Jared’s sick?” he asks, something dark and guilty weighing in his belly. “Is he okay?”
“The fuck do you care?” Chad sneers, and it’s a definite challenge. “You dropped him like it’s hot, after fucking him into a near coma-don’t think I didn’t see the bowlegged walk of shame.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jensen manages after a beat of awkward silence. Then, plaintive, “I just…I just wanna know if he’s okay.”
“Then allow me to fill you in. No, he’s not okay. You fucked him up.” Chad looks ready and raring to have another go, and Riley quickly steps in between them.
“Look, before you mess up my boy’s pretty face here, let’s all just sit down. Have a little chat. There’s some stuff you guys need to know.”
“Riley,” Jensen grits out, because he knows where this is going and, goddamn it, he didn’t agree to it.
Riley holds his gaze with equal heat and determination. “I think it’s time, don’t you?” While Jensen’s throat works, he adds, “Or did you want to stick with my other awesome plan back at the railing?”
Don’t fall in love, Jensen. You feel any better now?
Jensen really hates it when other people make more sense than he does.
xxx
“So what happened, Jensen?” Mike drags a French fry through ketchup and feeds it to Tom. It’s a drastic change from their earlier scene, and Jensen can only shake his head in mild wonder. “What’s your sad sob story, what made you into the commitment-shy vulture you are today?”
Jensen leans back in his chair, crosses his arms. “What if I’m just an asshole?”
“Well, that’s not going to make it a very romantic story when you and Jared get back together,” Tom points out. “So you probably should at least make something up.”
These are Jared’s friends. It makes Jensen’s head ache, and damned if it doesn’t also make him even more desperately, stupidly infatuated.
“You,” Chad suddenly says, looking straight at Riley with no-nonsense attitude, and not a fair bit of curiosity. “You know something. Start talking.”
Riley blinks, looks over at Jensen. Jensen shrugs. “Um, okay.” Riley takes a deep breath, lets it out and says, “Basically? Jensen’s completely fucking fucked up.”
A beat of silence passes, and then Tom shouts, “I knew it! The pretty ones are always deranged.”
“Dude, you’re pretty,” Chad says, his disgust reaching what Jensen assumes to be pretty epic proportions.
“Exactly my point. And look who I’m fucking on a regular basis.”
“Thanks a lot. That really helped.” Jensen glares at Riley, sarcasm thick enough to butter toast.
“But it’s actually not his fault,” Riley continues, earnest sympathy rounding his words and reminding Jensen of the kid he’d grown up with, who’d been there with him through every bump in the road, every single fuck-up and fuck-over.
Who’s still here, close to twenty years later, once again trying to yank his fat out of the fire.
It makes him suddenly, irrationally angry.
“You really want to know?” he asks Chad. “Let me tell you a story, Murray. Once upon a time there was a…a legendary figure, we’ll say. Named Jensen Ross Ackles. Playboy No.1. Mr Irresistable, am I getting it all right so far?”
Everyone looks at one another, nods an affirmation.
“His deadliest move?” Jensen lowers his voice into a mocking murmur, leans across the table. “Never. Bed Twice.”
“Ugh, the pompous prick, wish I could vouch for that,” Mike grumbles, and Tom hits him in the face with a French fry.
Jensen ignores them both. He’s laying it on thick, but sarcasm and wit are the only things that are going to make this even the least bit bearable. “All the pretty little boys wanted a taste of Jensen, and hell, who was he not to give it to them, or am I right? Didn’t matter if anyone warned them ahead of time. And every time, Jensen would fuck them. Walk out, and never come back.”
“Jensen,” Riley says softly, worriedly, and Jensen grits his teeth.
“Shut up, Riley. It’s the truth, isn’t it? What they came here to find out.”
Riley holds his gaze steadily. “But what all the pretty, insistent little boys didn’t know was that Jensen’s heartless behavior was just a coping mechanism. A way to hide the fact that inside he’s just a confused, scared little boy himself who never got over-”
“Fuck you,” Jensen chokes out. Pushes his chair back to stand up over Riley, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t-”
“They’re gone, Jensen.” Riley’s voice breaks, there’s a pained flush under pale on his features and it makes the backs of Jensen’s lids burn. “They’re gone, and yeah, you’re still here. But it’s not your goddamn fault!”
“Isn’t it? Everyone I touch, everyone I lo…” His breath catches on the word. “Everyone I give a damn about is gone. And yeah, I’m still here. Perfect, irresistible Jensen. You think that’s a fucking coincidence?”
“A plane crash is a coincidence,” Riley says.
“And two plane crashes?” Everyone’s silent around them. “Three dead pets, an ex-boyfriend still recovering from severe tissue damage thanks to a house fire in a building we helped contract?”
“Dear God,” Mike says, horror evident in his tone. He steeples his hands in prayer. “Thank you for not letting me suck his dick that night when I was high on poppers.”
“There, see?” Jensen lets out a laugh that’s a little too maniacal, gesturing at Mike. “He gets it. Why won’t you?”
“There’s nothing to get! That guy has the real problem, if you ask me.”
“I so agree,” Tom says, and Jensen growls.
Riley blows out a frustrated breath and gets up, right in Jensen’s face. “Look at me. I love you, okay? And I know damn well you love me, and yet, here I am. Never been in a single plane crash, no scar tissue to speak of, I’m not dead, and you’ve got to snap the fuck out of it and realize that you’re blaming yourself for a series of tragic, horrible, and yes, coincidental events.”
“So, what, you’re superstitious? That’s it?” Chad’s voice is a mixture of surprise, pity, and something else Jensen can’t quite put his finger on.
“That’s it?” Jensen whirls on him. “Why don’t you people understand?” Anger skims the edge of his mortification and Jensen lets it come, because it’s much easier to deal with anger. “I can’t…anything I care about…”
“You’re not going to hurt him by doing anything but what you’re doing right now,” Riley says, and Jensen goes still. “Jared’s not going to mysteriously fall off the face of the planet or get mauled by a rogue mountain lion in West Hollywood because you love him.”
“Chad said he was sick.” Jensen turns toward Chad, desperation coloring his features. Chad looks caught in the headlights.
“Uh, well, yeah, but I mean. It’s because we ordered five pizzas last night and Jared ate two of them all by himself. And a pint of that crème brulee ice cream from Ben & Jerry’s.” He meets Jensen’s incredulous look and shrugs. “I wanted you to feel bad, okay? I maybe exaggerated a little…I didn’t know you were a superstitious freakazoid!”
“You said he was sick! I thought…” Jensen’s fingers curl into claws. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“You’ve got bigger problems than me,” Chad says, rounding the table as Jensen comes closer. “Jared’s gone.”
Jensen’s breath leaves him deflated, dizzy. It’s every worst nightmare he’s had over the past few days, weeks, years. “Oh, my God.”
Chad immediately realizes his mistake and flushes. “Gone as in left the area. Jesus. He bought a bus ticket to Sacramento; he has an aunt out there that he’s going to stay with until he can find a new job. Figure out his school stuff. Guess he didn’t want to do it here after all, though I can’t imagine why.”
“Why the hell didn’t you stop him?” Riley’s saying, but Jensen barely pays any attention to the angry cadence of his best friend’s voice. All he can think about is the fact that Jared’s gone, and he should be glad because it means he won’t get caught up in the weird, fucked up shit that seems to follow Jensen around like a goddamn ball and chain. Instead, he feels like someone took a knife and cut the very middle right out of him.
I’m tired of pretending.
“Not my place to stop him,” Chad says, and Jensen lifts his gaze to Jared’s best friend. “The question is, when the hell are you gonna stop him?”
xxx
Jared’s not at any of the bus stations within twenty miles of Chad’s apartment. Jensen’s shirt is soaked through, breath coming in wheezing gasps as he collapses on the curb and stares between his spread legs.
No one’s saying anything, but Jensen knows what they’re all thinking. Too little, too late, and Jensen’s just had too many goddamn chances already.
Surprisingly, it’s Tom who speaks up first. “So, what? That’s it? You’re just gonna give up now?”
“I have no idea where he is.” Jensen drops his forehead to his knee, sucks in lungfuls of air. “Fuck, I can’t breathe.”
“You can’t.” Tom bends down, slaps Jensen upside the head hard enough to rattle his brains. “You can’t do anything, can you?”
“He’ll call,” Chad says, but he doesn’t sound all that certain. “I mean, it’s Jared.”
“Not if I have his phone,” Jensen remembers. Groans. “Goddamn it.”
“Well, it’s gut-check time.” Tom crosses his arms and stares Jensen down. “How bad do you really want him, Jensen? Bad enough to get the fuck over yourself?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jensen stands on shaky legs, leans against a nearby lamppost. “God, how does Jared deal with any of you?”
“Don’t change the subject. You know what? Riley’s right. You are just a scared, sad little man. A fucking coward.” Chad’s eyes glitter like blue fire in the sun.
“Lay off,” Riley warns.
“And fuck you, too,” Chad snaps. “Coddling him like he’s in fucking diapers when what he needs is a kick in that pretty ass. What’s Fate got to do with anything, Jensen? If you’re afraid of getting hurt, just admit it and move the fuck on.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about-” Riley starts, but Jensen has a sinking feeling that maybe Chad knows exactly what he means. That Jensen’s as transparent as glass, and just as breakable.
“Don’t let Fate, coincidence, whatever the hell you want to call it shape how you feel about someone and then mope around in regret when you can’t have what you really want.” Chad shoves a hand through his short, choppy pink hair. Sighs in disgust. “I’m telling you, man. Your life’s not cursed, it’s your fucking heart.”
And even Riley can’t argue that in his defense.
Just give me a sign, Jensen begs silently, throat thick with shame and hope and frustration, helpless emotions. Give me the fucking courage not to need a sign. Please, just…give me a chance with him. One more. That’s all I want.
His pocket starts to vibrate; Jensen slowly pulls out Jared’s phone, stares at the front screen in disbelief. It’s a local call, not a programmed number, and Jensen flips the phone open. Has to clear his throat twice before saying, “Hello?”
“Hello? Who is this?” comes Jared’s voice, a thread of irritation woven into that sweet, guileless country boy accent. “Look, I think I left my phone wherever you are…would you do me a favor and give me the address? I’m kind of in a hurry, but I was hopin’ I could stop by and pick it up.”
“Yes, please.” Jensen’s breath hitches. He rattles off the name of the bus station.
“You’re…but I’m right across the street.” Jared pauses. “Huh. That’s a coincidence.”
Hello, Fate. Glad to see you finally on my side.
He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until his jaw starts to ache. “Do you believe in coincidence?”
Jared’s voice takes a turn for uncertain. “Maybe, sometimes. Not so much others.” There’s a short pause. “Who is this again? You sound really…”
“Why are you leaving? What’s wrong with where you are?”
When no answer comes, the back of Jensen’s neck prickles and he looks over his shoulder. Sees Jared standing outside of a small café, watching him from a payphone with unreadable features. “I called you the day I left,” Jensen says, voice low as he turns fully around. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“Apparently, I had an excuse. You have it.” Jared doesn’t come any closer, but doesn’t move away, either, even when Jensen starts across the street. “I called you, too. So what’s your excuse?”
“I have a problem.” He’s close enough now to see the faint smudges under Jared’s eyes, the tired, sleepy quality shading them.
“You have a lot of problems,” Jared says shakily, and then Jensen’s standing right in front of him.
They stare at each other for a long moment, then Jensen says, “Hi.”
Jared’s lips twitch. Jensen can’t tell if he wants to laugh, or cry, or punch Jensen in the face. Maybe all three. God knows Jensen feels the same way. Finally, Jared gives him a little nod. Hangs up the phone while Jensen flips his closed. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry.” It comes out on a rough whisper, and Jensen wants to reach out, touch him. “I’m so fucking sorry, and I don’t know how to prove it to you.”
“Who says I wanted you to?” Jared asks, and it feels like a slap in the face. “Can I have my phone back?”
“I’m not perfect,” Jensen chokes out, handing over the phone. He doesn’t let go of Jared’s fingers, pulls him closer and relishes the way Jared’s shaking just a little bit, too.
“You’re nothing like perfect,” Jared agrees. He licks his lips. “Perfect’s overrated.”
Warmth spreads out into his chest, and Jensen moves in more. “I’m even a little bit crazy, I think. Mostly about you.”
“I buy things off of late-night infomercials,” Jared says. Laughs a bit brokenly. “So who am I to judge.”
“Because I love you. Because you dream about me every night, and I think about you every day.” Jensen’s practically daring him to deny it, and Jared’s already softening, more than, and staring at him through those big brown-green eyes. “Because I fucking love you, damn it, and I’m sorry, and if you let me, I’ll be anything, do anything you want to make you happy.”
“What if I want to slow dance to Disco Fever before bed?”
“I can do the Hustle,” Jensen says, straight-faced and sober.
“What if let myself go in five years and none of my sexy twink clothes fit anymore and you’re stuck with an overweight giant from San Antonio with a penchant for chocolate bon-bons and late-night TV?”
“Christ, you talk a lot,” Jensen says happily. “And maybe I like a little junk in the trunk.”
That makes Jared blow out a laugh. “Fuck you, you do not.”
“I do if it’s your junk.” Jensen’s grinning outright, and he’s got Jared’s fingers tangled up in his own and neither of them give a good goddamn.
“What if I fucking love you, too,” Jared chokes out, “and I never thought I’d get to tell you because I planned on staying mad at you forever because you’re a complete jackass, and I love you, and goddamn it would you fucking stick your tongue down my throat already before Tom puts his eye out, where did he get that water pistol--”
Jensen swallows the rest of the words with his mouth, tongue, and Jared digs his fingers into his hips.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” comes a shout, and they both break away, look over to find four grinning idiots standing in front of a bus station.
“What if I make you find new friends?” Jensen whispers, and Jared laughs against his lips. Wraps his arms so tight that Jensen can’t breathe, and for the first time ever, he welcomes the feeling.
The End, or | go to Additional Acknowledgments & Soundtrack |