Fic: In the Waiting Line; JA/JP, Rated R
Title: In the Waiting Line
Author:
torturemysoul
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: R (for language, briefly implied sexual content)
Word Count: 1,833 words
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes/warnings: A little schmoop and a little angst, with some CMM thrown in for good measure. (Not a songfic, but I did steal the title from a song by Zero 7.) Thanks to
talilov and
bm1893 for beta'ing. Feedback is appreciated, and concrit is always welcome.
Summary: Wherein Jared does a little soul-searching and Jensen is left behind.
-
Jared leaves for San Antonio early on a Friday morning.
He’s got a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and shadows in his eyes. Jensen’s standing in the doorway, still half-asleep and huddled into one of Jared’s gargantuan sweatshirts (which is only comfortable because it’s three sizes too big) while Jared stuffs one last pair of socks into his bag.
Honestly, Jensen doesn’t really know why Jared’s leaving, and he isn’t about to ask. This is Jared’s business (problem) and even if Jared’s apartment will be empty and lonely-the dogs are at Rosenbaum's for a while, just until Jared gets back-Jensen won’t stop him from doing what he thinks he has to do.
"I’ll call you when I land," Jared says.
Then he kisses Jensen like they’ll be apart for months rather than a couple of days; he cups his hand just under Jensen’s chin and captures his mouth in a kiss that’s equal parts tenderness and bruising anger, until Jensen’s head swims and his teeth ache.
When Jared pulls away, Jensen lifts a hand to rub at the ache in the back of his throat; he’s only half-joking when he says, "Don’t forget about me."
"Never."
And Jensen feels silly, but he says, "I love you."
Jared smiles, kisses him once more, hard and fast, and then he’s gone. When the apartment door clicks shut behind him, it sounds like goodbye.
-
A week later, left alone in Jared’s apartment with nothing to do, Jensen’s going out of his mind.
He’s cleaned the every room from top to bottom, stocked the refrigerator with groceries, and reorganized Jared’s bookshelves, even going so far as to put all the books in alphabetical order by the author’s last name.
Eventually, when there’s nothing else to do, he calls Chris and picks a fight over something insignificant (just for fun); he calls his mother, tells her that yes, he has a few weeks off and no, he won’t be coming home for a while because he has things to do (a blatant lie). He even starts writing an email to Jared, only he can’t bring himself to finish it.
Even if he could finish it, he wouldn’t send it.
The week ends on another dreary Friday morning. Jensen lies in bed and stares up at the ceiling, hands tucked beneath his pillow, one leg jiggling restlessly in the sheets piled near the foot of the bed.
All Jensen can think is that Jared’s somehow forgotten about him, and he feels almost as if someone’s reached right into his chest and viciously poked at his heart a few times (just for spite).
It isn’t a pleasant feeling.
Some time after his fourth cup of coffee, when he’s finally managed to drag himself out of bed, everything changes. Jensen’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, coffee mug in one hand and a toasted bagel in the other, when he hears a knock on the apartment door.
His first thought is that Jared’s home; that this week of unbearable silence and emptiness is finally over and everything is all right. Then Jensen realizes that this is, in fact, Jared’s apartment and Jared would undoubtedly let himself in without knocking on the door.
He goes to see who it is, clutching the coffee mug to his chest, and when he opens the door and finds-who else?-Chad Michael Murray standing in the doorway (hands in his pockets, looking just as scruffy and unkempt as ever)…
Well, Jensen is Very Unhappy.
He asks, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Chad says defiantly, lips pursed, his beady eyes fixed on Jensen’s face. “Why are you here, and where the fuck is Jared?”
Jensen doesn’t know where Jared is, but he isn’t about to admit that to Chad Michael Murray, of all people, so he takes a sip of his coffee, turns and walks back to the kitchen, leaving the door open because he knows Chad will follow.
“Jared’s out of town,” Jensen says flatly, pouring himself some more coffee.
“Out of town?”
“Visiting his parents.”
Chad says, “Ah,” like he understands everything, and then he sits down at the kitchen table, props his feet-clad in dirty, ratty sneakers-up on one of the chairs, and glares at Jensen like this entire mess is his fault.
Jensen scowls and asks, “Do you want a fucking cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” Chad says, and then he smiles and Jensen wonders when Chad forgot that shaving is an important part of personal hygiene. But even now, with Chad Michael Murray sitting at the kitchen table, drinking Jensen’s coffee and smirking like he’s got a big secret, the apartment seems a little less empty and a little more like home.
-
As it turns out-and Jensen isn’t surprised-Chad is a terrible houseguest.
He drinks all the beer, leaves wet towels all over the bathroom floor, and spends the next couple of days sitting in front of the television, squinting at the screen like it’s hurting his eyes just to look at it.
More than once, Jensen walks into the room and finds that Chad has (once again) dozed off with his head tipped forward, chin resting on his chest, an empty beer bottle in one hand and the television remote in the other. And when he isn’t falling asleep in front of I Love Lucy reruns, Chad follows Jensen around the apartment and pesters him with idiotic questions.
Questions like, “Why are you staying in Jared’s apartment, anyway?” and “Why the fuck didn’t Jared tell me he was going to leave town for two weeks?”
Jensen can only roll his eyes and say, “I don’t know, asshole.”
Another week drags by, just as slowly as the first.
By this time, Jensen hasn’t talked to Jared in almost two weeks. He sleeps too late, drinks too much coffee, and takes up smoking again, only because he’s cleaned every room in the apartment five times over, and he needs something else to do with his hands.
Sometimes, Jensen joins Chad in front of the television, but only when the solitude is too much to take. Even then, he refuses to talk, steals the remote, and smokes a couple of cigarettes, tapping the ashes into an empty coffee mug because he vacuumed the carpet three days ago and he doesn’t want to do it again.
Chad says, "Lucy’s a fucking trip."
"Yeah," Jensen mutters, lighting up another cigarette. "She’s a fucking trip, all right."
"I love this show."
Jensen rolls his eyes and says, "Yeah, I noticed."
Chad turns back to the television, takes a pull from his beer (although it’s probably warm by now), and proceeds to ignore Jensen for another half hour. Even Lucy loses some of her humor because the silence in the apartment is weighed down by bitter tension and discomfort. Finally, Chad looks over at Jensen, cocks an eyebrow, and asks, “Why are you here, Jensen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Chad says slowly, his voice grating on Jensen’s ears, “why the fuck are you living in Jared’s apartment?”
“I didn’t like living on my own.”
It’s the truth (more or less), but Chad shoots him this knowing look that has Jensen gritting his teeth and pinching at the cigarette like it’ll help to ease the irritation that’s crawling up the back of his neck. His head starts to throb; he gets up and puts on a fresh pot of coffee, stopping to pop a couple of Advil before he sits down again.
“So Jared just invited you to move in with him?”
Jensen says, “Not exactly.”
More silence. Chad looks a little upset, like he’s just eaten something really sour, and he takes another pull from his beer and seems to mull it over in his head for a little while. Then he says, “He would have told me.”
“But he didn’t.”
Chad snorts and asks, “Why the hell not?” There’s a pause; then, “You don’t know him like I do.”
And all Jensen can think is, God, I hope not, because he likes to think he’s the only guy who’s ever had his tongue in Jared’s ass.
So he says, “You’re right,” and that’s the end of that. They sit in silence for the rest of the evening; they watch a couple more episodes of I Love Lucy before Jensen changes the channel and Chad falls asleep, head pillowed on his arm. The last of the cigarettes is gone and Jared still hasn’t called.
But Jensen feels more human than he has in days.
-
Chad is gone when Jensen wakes up the next morning.
The kitchen is a mess, the television remote is missing, and there are towels all over the bathroom floor. Jensen wanders into the kitchen and finds a note on the table that (predictably) says, “Break his heart and I’ll fucking kill you.”
It’s trite and overdone, but Jensen feels oddly uplifted by the whole thing.
He’s smiling when he starts to wash the dishes.
-
Jared comes home on a sunny Tuesday afternoon with the duffle bag tucked under one arm and his eyes sparkling like he’s finally found the answer to everything.
Jensen’s been restless all morning, so he slips on a jacket and sneakers and pockets his cigarettes. He’s just about to head out for a walk when the front door swings open and Jensen finds himself wrapped up in arms and legs and Jared, who says, “I fucking missed you.”
Then he’s going on and on about how homesick he was, how he’s sorry he didn’t call, and Jensen lets himself be kissed and caressed for a minute or two before he pushes Jared away.
He says, “I thought you’d died or something.”
“I know,” Jared says quickly, “and I’m really sorry, Jen.”
He’s practically bouncing off the walls, bursting with barely contained energy. He looks so young and so happy that Jensen doesn’t have the heart to be angry with him; instead, he says, “Fucking Chad showed up and spent a week on your couch.”
“Really?”
“He drank all your beer.”
Jared says, “Bastard,” but he only laughs and kisses Jensen like he needs this more than anything-more than breathing, even. And Jensen knows that Jared really couldn’t care less about the beer or the lost television remote, and he thinks, this is the way it should be.
Later, after Jared’s unpacked his bag, thrown various articles of clothing around the bedroom, and left his sneakers in the kitchen doorway-right where Jensen’s sure to trip over them-things might seem a little more crowded, but Jensen thinks it feels sort of nice…sort of cozy.
So now the apartment is a little stuffy and the silence is gone, but Jared’s in the kitchen cooking pasta, humming something under his breath, and the smell of coffee and cigarettes wafts through the open windows.
And Jensen thinks that after two weeks of soul searching, Jared must have finally found his way home.
-
Fin