now I see the world through diamond eyes [1/3]
Written by Samantha Simard, © 2010
Title: now I see the world through diamond eyes
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Jeff Padalecki, Josh Ackles, Misha Collins, Christian Kane, Tom Welling, Genevieve Cortese, Danneel Harris, Chad Michael Murray, Steve Carlson, Sandra McCoy, Sophia Bush, Matt Bomer, Tim DeKay, Samantha Ferris, Jim Beaver, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Katie Cassidy, Alona Tal, and Jake Abel-pairings include eventual J2, past Jensen/Matt, Chris/Steve, Sandy/Sophia, Genevieve/Tom, and maybe some Danneel/Chad.
Genre: Real-person!fic, AU. Jared is 18 and just graduated high school, so Misha’s the same. Chris and Jensen are both 23. A blind!Jensen fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the people, places or anything else you recognize, and it’s fiction-I MADE IT UP, therefore the plot is all mine. The title is from “Diamond Eyes (Boom-Lay Boom-Lay Boom)” by Shinedown.
Warnings: Language, boy-on-boy/hetero/girl-on-girl relations, perversion and sexual suggestiveness, graphic violence, minor character death, a little bit of PTSD, homophobic assholes, blind!Jensen, depression with medication for it, a smidge of self-loathing, some medical jargon, much Boston loving, lots of drama and angst, donut sprinkles of humor, and unabashed schmoop.
Summary: Five years ago, Jensen Ackles was in a car accident that left him blind and killed his boyfriend. He and Chris fled Dallas two years later, when the memories and sympathy became too painful. Jared Padalecki came out of the closet and got disowned by his parents, so he and Misha traded San Antonio for Boston… that happens to be where Jensen ended up. And, funny thing is, they also live in the same crazy apartment complex. Yeah, “star-crossed lovers” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Author’s note: Ta da! /throws confetti. Here it is, my second J2 fic! Of course, my muse and I are unable to keep anything simple, so the whole gang’s involved in this one, as you can see by the character listing. It’s divided into three parts, and was written in between homework assignments, during fleeting free hours on the weekend, and by hand while traveling. I’m pretty damn proud of it, so I hope it’s enjoyable - not as lighthearted as “dawning”, but still, it’s a fun read.
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Part One
Jared Padalecki sighed, resting his head against the glass of the passenger’s window. He’d never been a fan of long car trips, and now he was on one cross-country. Irony’s a bitch.
Rain pattered against the darkened windshield, the silver flash of the guardrail keeping pace with the SUV. A red Ford Escape rolling on Interstate 30, heading east out of Texas, at three o’clock in the morning… nope, nothing weird about that. Everything he owned was in this vehicle, and he was leaving the only home he’d ever known. A dull ache had settled in Jared’s gut, but whether it was from regret, fear, or relief, he couldn’t say.
He sighed again, his breath fogging up the glass near his mouth.
“If you start drawing unhappy smiley faces in that, you’re walking,” Misha Collins stated in his usual dry deadpan. “I’m expecting spontaneous little razor blades to pop up and slice your arms next.”
A corner of Jared’s mouth lifted. He was probably the only person who could hear the worry underneath those words. He straightened up and winced at the pull of bruises on his skin, turning his head to look at his best friend.
Suddenly, Jared felt emotion clogging his throat; tears burned his already-red eyes. “I… Misha, you… you d-didn’t have to-”
Misha removed one hand from the wheel to cuff him lightly upside the head. “Shut up, emo boy.” His hand dropped to one of Jared’s huge shoulders, fingers curling. “You’re right, I didn’t have to do anything, but I did, so deal with it.”
There was nothing but fondness behind that statement, and the knotted tension in Jared’s belly eased. He shifted around and brought his long legs up on the seat. Jared raised a bear paw of a hand, latching onto Misha’s wrist and lowering it to rest on the center console but keeping a grip on it afterwards. Not quite holding hands, but enough.
Oh well, Misha thought, as they zipped past a “You Are Now Leaving Texas!” sign, this must be what they make cruise control for.
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Misha looked up from the menu in his hands when Jared slid into the booth opposite him. They were in a diner just off I-40 in Lonoke, Arkansas, and it was around eight in the morning. “What did Jeff say? Tell me he wasn’t an assbutt.”
Jared handed back Misha’s cell phone-he’d tossed his own out of the car as they were leaving-and shook his head, a smile stretching on his face. It was the first real one since they left San Antonio, dimples and all.
“Nah, Jeff was cool. He was pissed about our dad, and he, uh, also took the whole me being gay thing pretty well. Said he wasn’t surprised.” Jared paused when the waitress came over, and didn’t protest when Misha ordered for them both. “Anyway, he said he might be able to get us a deal on an apartment up in Boston. I told him he didn’t have to hurry; we’ve got some money, we could do some sightseeing or something on our way up there.” Jared hesitated, and then added, “You know, you could always drop me at a bus stop or…”
He trailed off as Misha’s expression edged closer to homicidal, and his grip on his coffee mug grew white-knuckled. “Or… I could just shut up.”
Misha’s face split into a broad grin, and he knocked his knee against Jared’s under the table. “Good boy, Jay-I knew there was a functioning brain cell in there somewhere.” The waitress came with their food, and Misha dug into his omelet. “Now, eat your goddamn eggs before I shove them down your throat.”
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They spent that night in the car, parked at a deserted scenic overlook in northern Pennsylvania.
Since the back seats were folded down anyway, Misha tossed their luggage up front, keeping their pillows and a blanket so they could sprawl out and look up through the moon-roof at the stars. Jared’s bulky 6’4” frame took up most of the car, but that was all right.
For all his height, Jared was really just a gentle giant. He looked at Misha with those soulful eyes for a long while, there in the dark, and then asked in a small voice, “We’re… we’re gonna be okay, right?”
“Yeah… we’ll be fine.”
Misha wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince-Jared, or himself.
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Moving was on Jared’s list of Suckiest Things Ever, in the spot between herpes and a gunshot wound, and apparently, it was even worse after getting your ass handed to you by your parents. Tack on driving halfway across the country with Misha-the second-gassiest person on the planet next to yours truly-and one might understand why he was ready to rip out his hair and use it as stuffing for taxidermy.
Boston was a good stopping point for two reasons. One, Misha refused to go any further north after a bad childhood experience with lumberjacks, and two, they now had a place to live. Jeff was true to his word of two days ago, and hooked them up with a pad at Morgan Apartments.
It was a short brick building in Chelsea, not all that far from Route 1, stuffed between a moving company and a new office building. It had a large, fenced-in parking lot that fronted a nice one-way street, and faced a vacant lot with a baseball diamond and a bar.
From what else he’d spotted on the way in-a parking garage, chain hotel, drugstore, and some townhouses-Jared didn’t think it was so bad. A far cry from the cozy Padalecki house, but-
“Hey, Sasquatch, heads up!” Misha called, lobbing a suitcase in his direction.
The sucker was huge, but Jared lunged anyway, barely catching the luggage before it hit the curb. It popped open to spite him, sending his wardrobe flying in all directions-some balled-up socks flew into the landscaped bushes, and everything else ended up on the ground.
A pair of underwear landed on his head, and Jared felt his face burning under the cotton. “I hate you.”
Misha giggled as he hefted out his own suitcase, placing it oh-so-gently on the pavement by his feet. He glanced back at Jared and stifled a grin. “Nah, you love me too much for that. Now you might want to pick up your delicates before somebody sees this and puts it online… YouTube never dies, man.”
Jared muttered something unpleasant, dropping the suitcase on its back before bending to retrieve his clothes. The wind seized a T-shirt when he wasn’t looking, and it ended up waving off the yellow “blind person” sign near the driveway. So he played leapfrog on the August-heated parking lot, giving Misha even more evidence of his lack of coordination. Great.
Ten minutes later, Jared had all of his clothes crammed back where they belonged, and he turned around, flailing as he tried to reach the door handle with the girth of the suitcase in his arms.
And that’s when some idiot decided to walk outside and right into him. Jared cursed as he lost his balance and fell gracelessly on his ass. His repacked luggage soared through the air and landed on the hood of Misha’s car, bursting open again with a flourish.
Jared stared in the direction of his scattered wardrobe, gaping and making aimless noises. “That… that. How did that happen?” A tap on his leg redirected his annoyed attention. “Wow, buddy, would it kill you to watch where you’re going?”
There was a chuckle from above him. “Easier said than done. You okay?”
Jared turned around really fast at the sound of that voice. It was deep and kind of rumbled, and was six different flavors of sexy. And the guy it belonged to was gorgeous.
Tall, although not as tall as Jared, with nice cheekbones and stubble and oh God, those lips! Those lips were made for things that still made him blush, newly out of the closet as he was. Mystery Man was dressed in a nice button-down and jeans, and yeah, Jared’s eyes skated over his crotch-he wasn’t that much of a virgin-before moving back up to his face, most of which was shadowed by dark sunglasses.
An amused smirk was tugging at Hot Guy’s mouth. He tapped Jared’s leg a third time. “You dead down there or somethin’?”
Wait a minute. Jared’s eyes flickered down again, and he pretty much felt his heart skid to a stop. He resisted the urge to groan. Oh my God, I am such a dick.
The guy had one of those friggin’ red and white canes in one hand. He was blind.
Then Misha was there, tugging Jared to his feet while smacking him upside the head. “Oh, he’s peachy-try to ignore the lack of manners, he’s still a puppy.” He stuck a hand out for Sexy Stranger to shake. “I’m Misha, and this shithead is Jared… he’s cute, but lacking in the brains department.”
To Jared’s relief, Hot Guy laughed at what Misha said. “I’m Jensen,” he said with a smile, shaking Misha’s hand with ease; apparently, looking wasn’t necessary. He chuckled, saying in Jared’s direction (like he could feel the sorry oozing out of him), “Don’t worry about it. Happens… well, a lot. So, you guys moving in?”
Misha, Zen (read: stoned) as usual, remained stoic.
Jared’s jaw dropped. “Um… how’d you know that?”
Jensen snorted, twirling his cane by the string wrapped around his wrist. “Dude, that was a motherfucker of a suitcase, and there’s a vacancy across the hall from me. Don’t have to be Einstein.”
Misha snorted a laugh while Jared winced, feeling like kicking himself in the ass; he seemed to have a knack for offending Jensen, and he’d just met him two minutes ago. “I’m really sorry about that, I swear it was an accident-”
“Good thing, too, or I’d have to pummel your ass.” Another guy had come outside, and was now standing at Jensen’s shoulder. He was built like a tank and was cute in a rough sort of way, clearly not somebody you wanted to mess with. He extended a hand to Jared. “I’m Chris, shitkicker extraordinaire. Nice to have new neighbors-hasn’t been the same since Tim moved out.”
Jensen elbowed Chris in the ribs. “You also scoop yogurt into tiny paper cups in Somerville, Mr. Shitkicker, so shut up.” A light smile had been teasing his face this whole time, but it faltered slightly now. “One of you is from Texas, I can hear the accent. I’m a Dallas guy myself.”
Misha’s eyebrows lifted as he noted the way both Chris and Jensen had tensed, like the thought of Texas brought back a bad memory. He filed it as not being his business. “Jared’s from San Antonio-we literally drove up in three days.” He stressed his next point by tipping his head back and half-yelling at the sky, like he was communing with God. “Worst. Idea. Ever.”
Chris gave a low whistle. “Yikes, I know from experience that’s not a great ride.” He glanced down at his watch and swore. “Shit, we’re gonna be late!” He clapped Jensen on the shoulder towards the parking lot. “We’ve gotta haul ass-see you later!”
Jared didn’t stop staring after Jensen until Misha flicked his nose. He yelped and smacked his hand away, cupping his nose in his fingers and giving his best friend a half-assed glare. “Ow! What the heck was that for?”
Misha looked at Jared in that intense way he had and then sighed, resigned. “We just got here and you’re smitten already. Should be fun times.”
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As soon as he and Chris were walking up the street towards Route 1, Jensen asked, “So, were they cute? They sounded cute.”
Chris chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. That Misha guy-wow, what a fuckin’ weird name-had nice blue eyes. And Jared…” He shook his head, pausing, and Jensen poked him in the ribs. “He wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
Jensen deflated a little at that; he’d thought for sure Jared wouldn’t be one of those bigoted assholes. “Oh.”
“Jen, I didn’t mean it like that,” Chris said, putting a hand on his shoulder as they stopped on the corner. He pressed the crosswalk button and watched the traffic zip by, unsure as to how his next words would be received. “He was looking at you, and the whole time he had this… sort of dopey smile on his face. I think he likes you.”
Jensen snorted. “Yeah, right. Why the hell would a guy like that have any interest in me?”
Chris felt his chest constrict; they went through this self-loathing crap right after the accident, but it never stopped stinging. “Don’t talk like that, Jen. You’re an amazing guy.” He put a hand on the small of Jensen’s back out of habit as they crossed the street. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“Sure, Chris. Whatever.”
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“Here we are!” Jeff Morgan exclaimed as he unlocked the door to the vacant apartment with a flourish. He was the landlord and namesake, and a very sexy bachelor. The door groaned on its hinges loud enough to wake the dead. He winced. “Okay… so it’s not the Hilton, but I try.”
Jared and Misha exchanged a look over their armfuls of luggage before stepping inside.
The apartment had wood floors throughout, the walls painted a cheery shade of yellow to make up for the lack of windows. The living room was furnished with a big couch, a coffee table and a TV. The kitchen was up some steps and appeared dated but operable, though the makeshift backsplash of Playboy cutouts left something to be desired.
“There’s a breakfast nook, and the bedrooms and bath are down that hallway,” Jeff said, pointing to a narrow corridor past a tiny 50s table and a set of chairs. He watched the boys dumped their belongings on the couch. “You guys need some help?”
Jared shook his head. “Nope, I think we’re good. Thanks, though.”
He caught the keys when Jeff tossed them his way, and once the door moaned shut, he grinned at Misha and punched him in the arm. “Dude, he was totally checking you out! He’s only, like, thirty years older than us-not bad.”
“Even straight men have wet dreams about me and my god-like physique, Jay,” Misha said, pretending to examine his fingernails and look modest, “but I’m perpetually single, remember? That and I don’t have daddy issues.” He drew in a sharp breath once the words were out, seeing the flash of pain on his best friend’s face. “Sorry, sorry, bad way of putting it.”
Jared huffed out a sigh, shrugging his broad shoulders. “S’okay, Meesh, I’ll get over it. Maybe.”
“Would it make you feel any better if I drove back down those godforsaken highways and killed him myself? I can guarantee nobody would ever find the corpse, and I wouldn’t even charge my regular rate.”
Jared shook his head. The worst (or best, depending) part about it was he knew Misha would do something
like that for him in a heartbeat.
“Nah, man, he’s not worth it.” He held eye contact with Misha for as long as he could, trying to transmit the gratitude he felt without both of them growing vaginas. “Thanks, though.”
Misha smiled-message received. “No problem, Gigantor.”
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Of all the things Jared could’ve forgotten in the car, it had to be his toothbrush. He knew exactly where it was, too-the right cup-holder, where he’d left it to dry after brushing with water from a questionable lake in upstate New York.
So around nine o’clock that night-wow, he and Misha were such party animals-Jared was stumbling down the stairs to the lobby in his pajamas, barely watching where he was going.
And then he bumped into Jensen, literally. Again.
It took Jensen a moment to figure out what happened; one minute he was walking up the stairs with his cane, minding his own business, then he thudded against someone and started falling.
That didn’t last long, because Jared recovered in time to splay his big hands out on Jensen’s waist, saving him from a nasty trip down. Unintentionally, they ended up pressed together, pretty much along the length of Jensen’s whole body.
Jared felt his face flushing crimson, and he let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Okay, I’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining-there wasn’t a suitcase this time.” Jensen’s voice was teasing, but he swallowed, trying not to think too hard about how Jared’s fingers felt where they were curved around his hipbones. He could also feel Jared staring at him, and was surprised to find that he didn’t really mind. Still, he asked,
“What? Your face is probably all scrunched up, you’re lookin’ at me so weird.”
Jared blushed even harder. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Jensen probably knew he was staring even though he couldn’t see him doing it. Hopefully he didn’t know he was staring at Jensen because he thought he was so goddamn pretty.
He didn’t bother tearing his eyes away as he stammered, “I, uh… nothing. Walk with me?” Jared clamped his mouth shut, as that last part just popped out from out of nowhere. “Um, sorry, that was stupid of me to-”
“Sure,” Jensen interrupted, finally sliding out of Jared’s grip to turn around. Damn, he’s cute when he’s embarrassed… or all the time.
They started walking, and Jared was enthralled with how easily Jensen navigated with just the cane and his other senses. So much so, that Jared spoke again without thinking about it: “What’s it like?”
Jensen angled his head towards Jared as they took the last step into the lobby. “What’s what like?” A beat, and then he snorted. “Oh, duh.”
“I’m so sorry, that was really friggin’ rude,” Jared began, flailing around and praying Jensen wasn’t going to punch him. “I’ll uh, just, um… I’ll go now.”
Jensen chuckled, reaching up to flick Jared’s ear with startling accuracy. “Dumbass, you didn’t let me finish. You aren’t the first person to ask me that, you know.” He paused. “It’s… weird. I wasn’t born like this, so I can remember… things, like colors and shit. Chris describes things to me and I can basically piece ‘em together. My other senses are really strong, like, I have bat sonar for hearing.”
Jensen laughed, and Jared decided that that was his favorite sound in the history of forever. The mention of Chris tugged at Jared’s curiosity, and he asked, “So… you and Chris… are you guys… y’know?” Please say no, please say no.
Jensen laughed again; as in, threw his head back and howled. “No! God, no, Chris and I are best friends, but trust me, we’re not that close. What about you and old blue eyes?”
Jared made an indignant noise. “Misha? Christ on a cracker, no way in hell! I mean, he’s hot and usually stoned and I love him, but no.”
They continued on, Jared holding the door for Jensen as they emerged into warm summer night air. A question came to Jensen’s mind. “What are you doing down here, anyway?”
“Forgot my toothbrush, although after that lake in New York, I’m not sure I wanna use it.” Jared pulled the keys to the Escape out of the pocket of his sweats, unlocking the driver’s door when they reached it. He leaned inside and plucked out the toothbrush. “Got it! I would’ve used Misha’s, but I’m pretty sure he masturbates with it.”
Jensen snorted again. “Talk about tasting like ass, huh?”
Jared guffawed as he slammed the door shut, putting his toothbrush and the keys in his pocket and leaning awkwardly against the car. He grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Jensen ambled over and leaned next to him. It was peaceful, save for the occasional hum of traffic. “Hey,” he started, and then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah… never mind.”
Jared cocked his head, nudging him in the side. “Never mind what?”
“Well, there’s this… thing I like to do, with people I meet.” Jensen paused to give a short laugh. “Yeah, I know how that sounds. Um…” Hesitantly, he turned towards Jared, his hands hovering in the air between them. “Can I…”
Jared was puzzled, but shifted his weight so they were a little closer together. “Uh… sure. Go ahead.”
Carefully, Jensen took Jared’s face in his hands. His grip was light and gentle, fingers skimming over his tan jaw line while his thumbs swooped under Jared’s eyes, brushing briefly over his nose. His touch was toxic and Jared felt himself leaning into it. Jensen’s fingers slid further down, running over his lips and lingering longer than necessary. His fingers traced his eyebrows before sliding up into his hair; Jared couldn’t help the little purring noise he made as the pads of Jensen’s fingers moved across his scalp.
“How did I know you had sheep-dog hair?” Jensen murmured, mostly to himself. His hands came to rest on the back of Jared’s neck, and suddenly, the moment was a lot more intense. They were almost as close as they had been on the staircase. “Jared, I-”
A car swung into the parking lot, its headlights landing on the two of them. Jensen knew the sound of that engine as Chris’s Toyota Corolla, and stepped away from Jared, hands dropping; the other man had to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact.
Chris pulled into a spot and got out, strolling over with a couple grocery bags in hand. “Hey, Jen,” he said with a smile, nodding to Jared. “Nice to see you again, man-you guys settled in?”
Jared managed to throw his brain in gear, and cleared his throat enough to say, “Yeah, and the landlord’s already drooling over Misha. I’ve got no idea what it is with him and older men-probably the weed.”
Chris laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Could be, man. Jeff’s got… unique taste. You should see his ex wife.” He transferred the bags to one hand, looping his free arm through Jensen’s. “C’mon, Jen, let’s go up-you need to take your meds and I’m beat.”
They started across the parking lot, back towards the building. Jensen waved over his shoulder with a small smile. “Bye, Jared.”
Jared ran a shaky hand through his hair, leaning against the car once again. “Bye, Jensen.”
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Jared was startled awake the next morning by the sound of someone pounding on the apartment door. He let out a couple curses as he became entangled in his sheets and fell off the too-small mattress. As soon as we get some money-BED SHOPPING.
He stumbled down the hall and out to the living room, pausing about halfway to the door. Reaching up, he pulled a Post-It note off his forehead. ‘Out to check out the studio, be back later. - M’ Jared rolled his eyes; of course, Misha would leave him here with no food or coffee. Asshole.
The knocking came again, followed by some feminine giggling. Eyebrows raised, Jared flipped the deadbolt on the door and pulled it open, suppressing a wince at the shrieking groan it made.
Standing in the hall were two knockout women, both with dark hair, bright eyes, and killer bodies. They were holding hands, and the one with the more delicate features had a small white box tucked under her arm, while the other more made-up one held a tray with three to-go cups in it.
The woman with the red lipstick smiled. “Are you Jared?” He nodded dumbly and she laughed. “I’m Sophia, and this is Sandy; we live next door. Your friend Misha came over earlier and said he was leaving you to fend for yourself. We figured we could help.”
Jared blinked. “Yeah, that’s Misha for you.” He stepped aside, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Come on in, ladies.”
“Why thank you, good sir!” Sandy exclaimed, giggling and pausing to let him pluck one of the coffees out of the tray. Jared groaned and took a sip, and she smiled, eyes twinkling. “Not a morning person, huh? I get that.”
Sophia snorted, putting down the box on the coffee table and plopping down on the couch. “Damn right you do-three alarm clocks and me biting her don’t do jack to wake her up.”
“Dude, I don’t even have an alarm clock,” Jared deadpanned, leaving out the fact that he’d forgotten it when his dad tossed him out on his ass. He sat down, nodding towards the table. “What’s in the box?”
“Always a great question, except at funerals,” Sandy said, leaning over and opening it up. “There’s this great little bakery that backs this building-they make the most amazing donuts, so we brought you some. Not health food, but you’re a growing boy.”
Jared laughed again. “Well, in that case…” He picked up a plain glazed and bit into it, then groaned nearly as loudly as the door. “Oh. My. God. I love you guys already.”
“Feeling’s mutual, honey.” Sophia grabbed Sandy around the waist, pulling her down into her lap. “Now, tell us about yourself!”
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In an hour of conversation, Jared had decided Sandy and Sophia were the best neighbors ever. They’d covered just about every topic of conversation known to mankind, from Misha to dildo colors to the Pepsi/Coke debate.
Draining the last of his coffee, Jared came up with another question to ask the girls. “Um… what do you guys know about Jensen?”
Sophia was twirling a lock of Sandy’s hair around her index finger, and she said thoughtfully, “Well, he and Chris moved up here from Texas about… what, five years ago, now? Obviously he’s cute as a bug, and he’s very sweet. It’s amazing how far he’s come after… everything.”
Jared hesitated, licking the last of the donut icing off his thumb; this next one was more personal. “What, uh… what happened to him? He said he wasn’t born blind.”
The brunettes traded a look. Sandy put a hand on his knee. “No offense, honey, but it’s not our story to tell. It seems like he likes you-that doesn’t happen a lot.”
Sophia sighed. “There was an accident, when he was still in high school. Chris was involved, and neither one of them talk about it much.” She paused, staring at Jared like she was trying to see into his soul… or maybe just his chest cavity. “Sand’s right, Jared. He likes you. Maybe you should make the first move.”
Jared considered this, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I should.”
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That afternoon, Jared was ambling through the Rite Aid down the street; without a job, he didn’t really have much to do. Plus, they were out of candy.
Sandy and Sophia had told Jared that Chris worked three jobs: mornings at Dough Heaven, the bakery with the amazing donuts; afternoons at the frozen yogurt joint in Somerville; and evenings bartending at the place across the street. Jensen usually joined him in the morning, had a Braille class after lunch, and came home for dinner.
So, even if Jared wanted to stalk him, he really couldn’t until then. Damn.
Jared bought a new toothbrush, some Reese’s cups, and the girly body wash that Misha liked with one of his last twenty-dollar bills. They already drained his college fund and bank account, and were using the money Misha had put away to start his yoga clinic.
Jared hoped that took off fast, or they’d starve and he’d have to eat his best friend-not cool.
On his way out of the drugstore he paused, a neon flyer catching his eye. It was advertising a server’s position at a restaurant called “The Hungry Beaver”, which was complete with its own logo of a cartoon beaver gnawing on a chicken leg. It was only a couple blocks away from the apartment building.
Jared grinned. Maybe he wouldn’t have to eat Misha after all.
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The Hungry Beaver turned out to be a diner on a busy street corner near the Chelsea/Everett town line. It was a metal building with red accents, Christmas lights strung up around the windows, and a tin roof. A large replica of the beaver on the flyer spun on a pole in the parking lot.
Several bells jangled when Jared pushed open the door, and he practically felt his jaw break his feet at what he saw.
The interior of the place was a designer’s version of Hades. The tables ranged from a tiny circular one all the way to a pool table that could be converted to seat a family, while the chairs were anything from knocked-together wood to ones that massaged your back. Half the floor was shag, the other checkered tile; the eat-in counter was a bad horror movie prop, with “blood” dripping down the sides; the menu was written on a chalkboard above that, crammed between one of those weird cat clocks and a constantly-clucking fake rooster. There was a jukebox next to a gumball machine and Bob Dylan was pumping out of the PA system.
Patrons ranged from a mother with three kids to some transvestites to an elderly couple, which was something else that floored Jared. Figures it would be a place like this that could make everyone come together.
“Oooh, hello handsome!” a woman’s voice whistled from behind the counter, gaining his attention. She was a petite thing, with long black hair and a bright smile, and Jared was pretty sure if he were straight she would’ve been his type. She came around to him, resting both hands on his chest and staring up at him with big eyes. “Please tell me you’re here for the job. Otherwise, I might die.”
Jared’s own eyes were huge. “Uh… yeah, actually, I am.”
“Gen, are you molesting the customers again? Christ, girl, try to keep your hands in the damn dishes!” a gruff voice exclaimed, a man emerging from the swinging doors to the kitchen. He had a scruffy beard, and he stuck a hand out for Jared to shake. “Jim Beaver, namesake and owner. This grab-ass is Genevieve. You interested in a job?”
Jared was silent for a moment, and then busted out a mega-watt grin, picking up Genevieve easily and seating her on his shoulder. She giggled accordingly, playing with his hair, and he knew that if he wanted to work anywhere, this was it. “Yeah, totally.”
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“So I met another one of our neighbors today,” Misha said, as the two of them made dinner that night. He was mashing potatoes while Jared seasoned some chicken. “And boy is she a bitch on wheels… woman does nothing but nag!”
Jared snorted, putting the meat on a pan and into the tiny oven to cook. “Yeah? What is she, the owner of the building?” When he got no response, he groaned. “Meesh, tell me you didn’t call the freakin’ landlord a bitch!”
“Uh… sure I didn’t.”
“You’re unbelievable. Which neighbor?”
Misha waved vaguely towards the living room wall. “Right side. Her name is Danneel Harris.” He paused, licking the whisk before tossing it into the sink. “Single, ready to mingle, although a little trampy-the lady wears gold nail polish, for fuck’s sake. She runs the yogurt place next door to the unit I rented-the thug your boy-toy runs around with works there.”
Jared whacked Misha’s ass with a big hand. “His name’s Jensen, shithead.”
“Duh. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be telling you that you should ask him out.”
Jared choked on air. “What?”
“You. Should. Ask. Jensen. Out. Or in, if that’s how you roll.” Misha winked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ll make myself scarce at the risk of anything below the waist, you devil. What, do you not have the balls to do it? You gay men are all the same.”
“Says the mostly-stoned bisexual who’s a walking one-night stand and is looking to be a yoga instructor. Yeah, I’m not sure I wanna be taking relationship advice from you.” Secretly, Jared was touched by the fact that Misha had given Jensen his casual approval, and in a strange burst of confidence, he took off his apron and added, “But maybe I’ll give it a shot.”
Misha, who now had his head stuffed in the fridge, gave him a thumbs-up. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
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As soon as Jared was across the hall, he started to sweat, and when he raised his hand to knock on the door, he felt it shaking. Crap, this was half the reason he’d never been on a date before; that, and the ratio of gay-to-straight guys in his high school had been unsurprisingly minute.
Come on, Padalecki! Get it together… I mean, what’s he gonna do, say no and then stab you? Jared braced himself, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles against cheap wood.
Footsteps approached the door. “Who is it?”
It was Jensen’s voice-which alone made Jared weak at the knees-and it took him three tries to speak. “It’s, uh, it’s Jared.”
The deadbolt and chain slid back, and Jensen opened the door, which was silent as a morgue compared to Jared and Misha’s. He had on some sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt that looked way too big on him, with his hands in the front pockets. Jared checked to make sure he wasn’t drooling too much.
Jensen leaned against the doorjamb and smiled, oblivious. “Hey, Jared. What’s up?” He pulled one hand out of the sweatshirt, revealing that he had a switchblade in his fingers, and tossed it out of sight. “Guess I won’t need that.”
Jared-still reeling at the fact that if he’d been somebody else, Jensen probably would’ve stabbed him-had to take a moment to stop his brain from melting. “Uh, I kind of wanted to ask you something, and I’ve never really done it before, so, uh… this’ll probably be awkward.”
Jensen’s smile morphed into a grin, and he laughed. “You’re always awkward.” At Jared’s pouty expression, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s cute. Go ahead.”
Now blushing like a fire engine, Jared was stammering. “I… would you, um, would you… would you like to go out? I mean, with me. Like, on a date?”
Jensen sucked in breath, trying desperately to keep himself under control. Under the sleeves of his brother’s sweatshirt, his nails were biting into his palms, and his molars had a grip on the inside of his cheek. His eyes burned behind his sunglasses with something that was probably tears, not that they’d affect his vision. Unbidden thoughts and memories started to assault him, along with an expected wave of guilt.
Still, every synapse in his brain was screaming “YES!” at the top of its lungs, so he replied, “Yeah… I’d love to. Maybe Saturday? We could do dinner.” Jensen paused, sniffing. “Um, Jared? I think something’s burning.”
Jared snapped out of the trance Jensen’s answer had put him in, and wheeled around to race back to his own apartment. “Shit, the chicken! Misha, get the goddamn fire extinguisher!”
“Fuck the fire extinguisher, call the Navy!”
“Why in God’s name would I call the Navy for a fire, shithead!”
Jensen chuckled to himself, then hollered before retreating back into his apartment, “Pick me up at six, you dumbass!"
( part two)
Title: now I see the world through diamond eyes
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Jeff Padalecki, Josh Ackles, Misha Collins, Christian Kane, Tom Welling, Genevieve Cortese, Danneel Harris, Chad Michael Murray, Steve Carlson, Sandra McCoy, Sophia Bush, Matt Bomer, Tim DeKay, Samantha Ferris, Jim Beaver, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Katie Cassidy, Alona Tal, and Jake Abel-pairings include eventual J2, past Jensen/Matt, Chris/Steve, Sandy/Sophia, Genevieve/Tom, and maybe some Danneel/Chad.
Genre: Real-person!fic, AU. Jared is 18 and just graduated high school, so Misha’s the same. Chris and Jensen are both 23. A blind!Jensen fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the people, places or anything else you recognize, and it’s fiction-I MADE IT UP, therefore the plot is all mine. The title is from “Diamond Eyes (Boom-Lay Boom-Lay Boom)” by Shinedown.
Warnings: Language, boy-on-boy/hetero/girl-on-girl relations, perversion and sexual suggestiveness, graphic violence, minor character death, a little bit of PTSD, homophobic assholes, blind!Jensen, depression with medication for it, a smidge of self-loathing, some medical jargon, much Boston loving, lots of drama and angst, donut sprinkles of humor, and unabashed schmoop.
Summary: Five years ago, Jensen Ackles was in a car accident that left him blind and killed his boyfriend. He and Chris fled Dallas two years later, when the memories and sympathy became too painful. Jared Padalecki came out of the closet and got disowned by his parents, so he and Misha traded San Antonio for Boston… that happens to be where Jensen ended up. And, funny thing is, they also live in the same crazy apartment complex. Yeah, “star-crossed lovers” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Author’s note: Ta da! /throws confetti. Here it is, my second J2 fic! Of course, my muse and I are unable to keep anything simple, so the whole gang’s involved in this one, as you can see by the character listing. It’s divided into three parts, and was written in between homework assignments, during fleeting free hours on the weekend, and by hand while traveling. I’m pretty damn proud of it, so I hope it’s enjoyable - not as lighthearted as “dawning”, but still, it’s a fun read.
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Part One
Jared Padalecki sighed, resting his head against the glass of the passenger’s window. He’d never been a fan of long car trips, and now he was on one cross-country. Irony’s a bitch.
Rain pattered against the darkened windshield, the silver flash of the guardrail keeping pace with the SUV. A red Ford Escape rolling on Interstate 30, heading east out of Texas, at three o’clock in the morning… nope, nothing weird about that. Everything he owned was in this vehicle, and he was leaving the only home he’d ever known. A dull ache had settled in Jared’s gut, but whether it was from regret, fear, or relief, he couldn’t say.
He sighed again, his breath fogging up the glass near his mouth.
“If you start drawing unhappy smiley faces in that, you’re walking,” Misha Collins stated in his usual dry deadpan. “I’m expecting spontaneous little razor blades to pop up and slice your arms next.”
A corner of Jared’s mouth lifted. He was probably the only person who could hear the worry underneath those words. He straightened up and winced at the pull of bruises on his skin, turning his head to look at his best friend.
Suddenly, Jared felt emotion clogging his throat; tears burned his already-red eyes. “I… Misha, you… you d-didn’t have to-”
Misha removed one hand from the wheel to cuff him lightly upside the head. “Shut up, emo boy.” His hand dropped to one of Jared’s huge shoulders, fingers curling. “You’re right, I didn’t have to do anything, but I did, so deal with it.”
There was nothing but fondness behind that statement, and the knotted tension in Jared’s belly eased. He shifted around and brought his long legs up on the seat. Jared raised a bear paw of a hand, latching onto Misha’s wrist and lowering it to rest on the center console but keeping a grip on it afterwards. Not quite holding hands, but enough.
Oh well, Misha thought, as they zipped past a “You Are Now Leaving Texas!” sign, this must be what they make cruise control for.
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Misha looked up from the menu in his hands when Jared slid into the booth opposite him. They were in a diner just off I-40 in Lonoke, Arkansas, and it was around eight in the morning. “What did Jeff say? Tell me he wasn’t an assbutt.”
Jared handed back Misha’s cell phone-he’d tossed his own out of the car as they were leaving-and shook his head, a smile stretching on his face. It was the first real one since they left San Antonio, dimples and all.
“Nah, Jeff was cool. He was pissed about our dad, and he, uh, also took the whole me being gay thing pretty well. Said he wasn’t surprised.” Jared paused when the waitress came over, and didn’t protest when Misha ordered for them both. “Anyway, he said he might be able to get us a deal on an apartment up in Boston. I told him he didn’t have to hurry; we’ve got some money, we could do some sightseeing or something on our way up there.” Jared hesitated, and then added, “You know, you could always drop me at a bus stop or…”
He trailed off as Misha’s expression edged closer to homicidal, and his grip on his coffee mug grew white-knuckled. “Or… I could just shut up.”
Misha’s face split into a broad grin, and he knocked his knee against Jared’s under the table. “Good boy, Jay-I knew there was a functioning brain cell in there somewhere.” The waitress came with their food, and Misha dug into his omelet. “Now, eat your goddamn eggs before I shove them down your throat.”
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They spent that night in the car, parked at a deserted scenic overlook in northern Pennsylvania.
Since the back seats were folded down anyway, Misha tossed their luggage up front, keeping their pillows and a blanket so they could sprawl out and look up through the moon-roof at the stars. Jared’s bulky 6’4” frame took up most of the car, but that was all right.
For all his height, Jared was really just a gentle giant. He looked at Misha with those soulful eyes for a long while, there in the dark, and then asked in a small voice, “We’re… we’re gonna be okay, right?”
“Yeah… we’ll be fine.”
Misha wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince-Jared, or himself.
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Moving was on Jared’s list of Suckiest Things Ever, in the spot between herpes and a gunshot wound, and apparently, it was even worse after getting your ass handed to you by your parents. Tack on driving halfway across the country with Misha-the second-gassiest person on the planet next to yours truly-and one might understand why he was ready to rip out his hair and use it as stuffing for taxidermy.
Boston was a good stopping point for two reasons. One, Misha refused to go any further north after a bad childhood experience with lumberjacks, and two, they now had a place to live. Jeff was true to his word of two days ago, and hooked them up with a pad at Morgan Apartments.
It was a short brick building in Chelsea, not all that far from Route 1, stuffed between a moving company and a new office building. It had a large, fenced-in parking lot that fronted a nice one-way street, and faced a vacant lot with a baseball diamond and a bar.
From what else he’d spotted on the way in-a parking garage, chain hotel, drugstore, and some townhouses-Jared didn’t think it was so bad. A far cry from the cozy Padalecki house, but-
“Hey, Sasquatch, heads up!” Misha called, lobbing a suitcase in his direction.
The sucker was huge, but Jared lunged anyway, barely catching the luggage before it hit the curb. It popped open to spite him, sending his wardrobe flying in all directions-some balled-up socks flew into the landscaped bushes, and everything else ended up on the ground.
A pair of underwear landed on his head, and Jared felt his face burning under the cotton. “I hate you.”
Misha giggled as he hefted out his own suitcase, placing it oh-so-gently on the pavement by his feet. He glanced back at Jared and stifled a grin. “Nah, you love me too much for that. Now you might want to pick up your delicates before somebody sees this and puts it online… YouTube never dies, man.”
Jared muttered something unpleasant, dropping the suitcase on its back before bending to retrieve his clothes. The wind seized a T-shirt when he wasn’t looking, and it ended up waving off the yellow “blind person” sign near the driveway. So he played leapfrog on the August-heated parking lot, giving Misha even more evidence of his lack of coordination. Great.
Ten minutes later, Jared had all of his clothes crammed back where they belonged, and he turned around, flailing as he tried to reach the door handle with the girth of the suitcase in his arms.
And that’s when some idiot decided to walk outside and right into him. Jared cursed as he lost his balance and fell gracelessly on his ass. His repacked luggage soared through the air and landed on the hood of Misha’s car, bursting open again with a flourish.
Jared stared in the direction of his scattered wardrobe, gaping and making aimless noises. “That… that. How did that happen?” A tap on his leg redirected his annoyed attention. “Wow, buddy, would it kill you to watch where you’re going?”
There was a chuckle from above him. “Easier said than done. You okay?”
Jared turned around really fast at the sound of that voice. It was deep and kind of rumbled, and was six different flavors of sexy. And the guy it belonged to was gorgeous.
Tall, although not as tall as Jared, with nice cheekbones and stubble and oh God, those lips! Those lips were made for things that still made him blush, newly out of the closet as he was. Mystery Man was dressed in a nice button-down and jeans, and yeah, Jared’s eyes skated over his crotch-he wasn’t that much of a virgin-before moving back up to his face, most of which was shadowed by dark sunglasses.
An amused smirk was tugging at Hot Guy’s mouth. He tapped Jared’s leg a third time. “You dead down there or somethin’?”
Wait a minute. Jared’s eyes flickered down again, and he pretty much felt his heart skid to a stop. He resisted the urge to groan. Oh my God, I am such a dick.
The guy had one of those friggin’ red and white canes in one hand. He was blind.
Then Misha was there, tugging Jared to his feet while smacking him upside the head. “Oh, he’s peachy-try to ignore the lack of manners, he’s still a puppy.” He stuck a hand out for Sexy Stranger to shake. “I’m Misha, and this shithead is Jared… he’s cute, but lacking in the brains department.”
To Jared’s relief, Hot Guy laughed at what Misha said. “I’m Jensen,” he said with a smile, shaking Misha’s hand with ease; apparently, looking wasn’t necessary. He chuckled, saying in Jared’s direction (like he could feel the sorry oozing out of him), “Don’t worry about it. Happens… well, a lot. So, you guys moving in?”
Misha, Zen (read: stoned) as usual, remained stoic.
Jared’s jaw dropped. “Um… how’d you know that?”
Jensen snorted, twirling his cane by the string wrapped around his wrist. “Dude, that was a motherfucker of a suitcase, and there’s a vacancy across the hall from me. Don’t have to be Einstein.”
Misha snorted a laugh while Jared winced, feeling like kicking himself in the ass; he seemed to have a knack for offending Jensen, and he’d just met him two minutes ago. “I’m really sorry about that, I swear it was an accident-”
“Good thing, too, or I’d have to pummel your ass.” Another guy had come outside, and was now standing at Jensen’s shoulder. He was built like a tank and was cute in a rough sort of way, clearly not somebody you wanted to mess with. He extended a hand to Jared. “I’m Chris, shitkicker extraordinaire. Nice to have new neighbors-hasn’t been the same since Tim moved out.”
Jensen elbowed Chris in the ribs. “You also scoop yogurt into tiny paper cups in Somerville, Mr. Shitkicker, so shut up.” A light smile had been teasing his face this whole time, but it faltered slightly now. “One of you is from Texas, I can hear the accent. I’m a Dallas guy myself.”
Misha’s eyebrows lifted as he noted the way both Chris and Jensen had tensed, like the thought of Texas brought back a bad memory. He filed it as not being his business. “Jared’s from San Antonio-we literally drove up in three days.” He stressed his next point by tipping his head back and half-yelling at the sky, like he was communing with God. “Worst. Idea. Ever.”
Chris gave a low whistle. “Yikes, I know from experience that’s not a great ride.” He glanced down at his watch and swore. “Shit, we’re gonna be late!” He clapped Jensen on the shoulder towards the parking lot. “We’ve gotta haul ass-see you later!”
Jared didn’t stop staring after Jensen until Misha flicked his nose. He yelped and smacked his hand away, cupping his nose in his fingers and giving his best friend a half-assed glare. “Ow! What the heck was that for?”
Misha looked at Jared in that intense way he had and then sighed, resigned. “We just got here and you’re smitten already. Should be fun times.”
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As soon as he and Chris were walking up the street towards Route 1, Jensen asked, “So, were they cute? They sounded cute.”
Chris chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. That Misha guy-wow, what a fuckin’ weird name-had nice blue eyes. And Jared…” He shook his head, pausing, and Jensen poked him in the ribs. “He wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
Jensen deflated a little at that; he’d thought for sure Jared wouldn’t be one of those bigoted assholes. “Oh.”
“Jen, I didn’t mean it like that,” Chris said, putting a hand on his shoulder as they stopped on the corner. He pressed the crosswalk button and watched the traffic zip by, unsure as to how his next words would be received. “He was looking at you, and the whole time he had this… sort of dopey smile on his face. I think he likes you.”
Jensen snorted. “Yeah, right. Why the hell would a guy like that have any interest in me?”
Chris felt his chest constrict; they went through this self-loathing crap right after the accident, but it never stopped stinging. “Don’t talk like that, Jen. You’re an amazing guy.” He put a hand on the small of Jensen’s back out of habit as they crossed the street. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“Sure, Chris. Whatever.”
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“Here we are!” Jeff Morgan exclaimed as he unlocked the door to the vacant apartment with a flourish. He was the landlord and namesake, and a very sexy bachelor. The door groaned on its hinges loud enough to wake the dead. He winced. “Okay… so it’s not the Hilton, but I try.”
Jared and Misha exchanged a look over their armfuls of luggage before stepping inside.
The apartment had wood floors throughout, the walls painted a cheery shade of yellow to make up for the lack of windows. The living room was furnished with a big couch, a coffee table and a TV. The kitchen was up some steps and appeared dated but operable, though the makeshift backsplash of Playboy cutouts left something to be desired.
“There’s a breakfast nook, and the bedrooms and bath are down that hallway,” Jeff said, pointing to a narrow corridor past a tiny 50s table and a set of chairs. He watched the boys dumped their belongings on the couch. “You guys need some help?”
Jared shook his head. “Nope, I think we’re good. Thanks, though.”
He caught the keys when Jeff tossed them his way, and once the door moaned shut, he grinned at Misha and punched him in the arm. “Dude, he was totally checking you out! He’s only, like, thirty years older than us-not bad.”
“Even straight men have wet dreams about me and my god-like physique, Jay,” Misha said, pretending to examine his fingernails and look modest, “but I’m perpetually single, remember? That and I don’t have daddy issues.” He drew in a sharp breath once the words were out, seeing the flash of pain on his best friend’s face. “Sorry, sorry, bad way of putting it.”
Jared huffed out a sigh, shrugging his broad shoulders. “S’okay, Meesh, I’ll get over it. Maybe.”
“Would it make you feel any better if I drove back down those godforsaken highways and killed him myself? I can guarantee nobody would ever find the corpse, and I wouldn’t even charge my regular rate.”
Jared shook his head. The worst (or best, depending) part about it was he knew Misha would do something
like that for him in a heartbeat.
“Nah, man, he’s not worth it.” He held eye contact with Misha for as long as he could, trying to transmit the gratitude he felt without both of them growing vaginas. “Thanks, though.”
Misha smiled-message received. “No problem, Gigantor.”
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Of all the things Jared could’ve forgotten in the car, it had to be his toothbrush. He knew exactly where it was, too-the right cup-holder, where he’d left it to dry after brushing with water from a questionable lake in upstate New York.
So around nine o’clock that night-wow, he and Misha were such party animals-Jared was stumbling down the stairs to the lobby in his pajamas, barely watching where he was going.
And then he bumped into Jensen, literally. Again.
It took Jensen a moment to figure out what happened; one minute he was walking up the stairs with his cane, minding his own business, then he thudded against someone and started falling.
That didn’t last long, because Jared recovered in time to splay his big hands out on Jensen’s waist, saving him from a nasty trip down. Unintentionally, they ended up pressed together, pretty much along the length of Jensen’s whole body.
Jared felt his face flushing crimson, and he let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Okay, I’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining-there wasn’t a suitcase this time.” Jensen’s voice was teasing, but he swallowed, trying not to think too hard about how Jared’s fingers felt where they were curved around his hipbones. He could also feel Jared staring at him, and was surprised to find that he didn’t really mind. Still, he asked,
“What? Your face is probably all scrunched up, you’re lookin’ at me so weird.”
Jared blushed even harder. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Jensen probably knew he was staring even though he couldn’t see him doing it. Hopefully he didn’t know he was staring at Jensen because he thought he was so goddamn pretty.
He didn’t bother tearing his eyes away as he stammered, “I, uh… nothing. Walk with me?” Jared clamped his mouth shut, as that last part just popped out from out of nowhere. “Um, sorry, that was stupid of me to-”
“Sure,” Jensen interrupted, finally sliding out of Jared’s grip to turn around. Damn, he’s cute when he’s embarrassed… or all the time.
They started walking, and Jared was enthralled with how easily Jensen navigated with just the cane and his other senses. So much so, that Jared spoke again without thinking about it: “What’s it like?”
Jensen angled his head towards Jared as they took the last step into the lobby. “What’s what like?” A beat, and then he snorted. “Oh, duh.”
“I’m so sorry, that was really friggin’ rude,” Jared began, flailing around and praying Jensen wasn’t going to punch him. “I’ll uh, just, um… I’ll go now.”
Jensen chuckled, reaching up to flick Jared’s ear with startling accuracy. “Dumbass, you didn’t let me finish. You aren’t the first person to ask me that, you know.” He paused. “It’s… weird. I wasn’t born like this, so I can remember… things, like colors and shit. Chris describes things to me and I can basically piece ‘em together. My other senses are really strong, like, I have bat sonar for hearing.”
Jensen laughed, and Jared decided that that was his favorite sound in the history of forever. The mention of Chris tugged at Jared’s curiosity, and he asked, “So… you and Chris… are you guys… y’know?” Please say no, please say no.
Jensen laughed again; as in, threw his head back and howled. “No! God, no, Chris and I are best friends, but trust me, we’re not that close. What about you and old blue eyes?”
Jared made an indignant noise. “Misha? Christ on a cracker, no way in hell! I mean, he’s hot and usually stoned and I love him, but no.”
They continued on, Jared holding the door for Jensen as they emerged into warm summer night air. A question came to Jensen’s mind. “What are you doing down here, anyway?”
“Forgot my toothbrush, although after that lake in New York, I’m not sure I wanna use it.” Jared pulled the keys to the Escape out of the pocket of his sweats, unlocking the driver’s door when they reached it. He leaned inside and plucked out the toothbrush. “Got it! I would’ve used Misha’s, but I’m pretty sure he masturbates with it.”
Jensen snorted again. “Talk about tasting like ass, huh?”
Jared guffawed as he slammed the door shut, putting his toothbrush and the keys in his pocket and leaning awkwardly against the car. He grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Jensen ambled over and leaned next to him. It was peaceful, save for the occasional hum of traffic. “Hey,” he started, and then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah… never mind.”
Jared cocked his head, nudging him in the side. “Never mind what?”
“Well, there’s this… thing I like to do, with people I meet.” Jensen paused to give a short laugh. “Yeah, I know how that sounds. Um…” Hesitantly, he turned towards Jared, his hands hovering in the air between them. “Can I…”
Jared was puzzled, but shifted his weight so they were a little closer together. “Uh… sure. Go ahead.”
Carefully, Jensen took Jared’s face in his hands. His grip was light and gentle, fingers skimming over his tan jaw line while his thumbs swooped under Jared’s eyes, brushing briefly over his nose. His touch was toxic and Jared felt himself leaning into it. Jensen’s fingers slid further down, running over his lips and lingering longer than necessary. His fingers traced his eyebrows before sliding up into his hair; Jared couldn’t help the little purring noise he made as the pads of Jensen’s fingers moved across his scalp.
“How did I know you had sheep-dog hair?” Jensen murmured, mostly to himself. His hands came to rest on the back of Jared’s neck, and suddenly, the moment was a lot more intense. They were almost as close as they had been on the staircase. “Jared, I-”
A car swung into the parking lot, its headlights landing on the two of them. Jensen knew the sound of that engine as Chris’s Toyota Corolla, and stepped away from Jared, hands dropping; the other man had to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact.
Chris pulled into a spot and got out, strolling over with a couple grocery bags in hand. “Hey, Jen,” he said with a smile, nodding to Jared. “Nice to see you again, man-you guys settled in?”
Jared managed to throw his brain in gear, and cleared his throat enough to say, “Yeah, and the landlord’s already drooling over Misha. I’ve got no idea what it is with him and older men-probably the weed.”
Chris laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Could be, man. Jeff’s got… unique taste. You should see his ex wife.” He transferred the bags to one hand, looping his free arm through Jensen’s. “C’mon, Jen, let’s go up-you need to take your meds and I’m beat.”
They started across the parking lot, back towards the building. Jensen waved over his shoulder with a small smile. “Bye, Jared.”
Jared ran a shaky hand through his hair, leaning against the car once again. “Bye, Jensen.”
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Jared was startled awake the next morning by the sound of someone pounding on the apartment door. He let out a couple curses as he became entangled in his sheets and fell off the too-small mattress. As soon as we get some money-BED SHOPPING.
He stumbled down the hall and out to the living room, pausing about halfway to the door. Reaching up, he pulled a Post-It note off his forehead. ‘Out to check out the studio, be back later. - M’ Jared rolled his eyes; of course, Misha would leave him here with no food or coffee. Asshole.
The knocking came again, followed by some feminine giggling. Eyebrows raised, Jared flipped the deadbolt on the door and pulled it open, suppressing a wince at the shrieking groan it made.
Standing in the hall were two knockout women, both with dark hair, bright eyes, and killer bodies. They were holding hands, and the one with the more delicate features had a small white box tucked under her arm, while the other more made-up one held a tray with three to-go cups in it.
The woman with the red lipstick smiled. “Are you Jared?” He nodded dumbly and she laughed. “I’m Sophia, and this is Sandy; we live next door. Your friend Misha came over earlier and said he was leaving you to fend for yourself. We figured we could help.”
Jared blinked. “Yeah, that’s Misha for you.” He stepped aside, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Come on in, ladies.”
“Why thank you, good sir!” Sandy exclaimed, giggling and pausing to let him pluck one of the coffees out of the tray. Jared groaned and took a sip, and she smiled, eyes twinkling. “Not a morning person, huh? I get that.”
Sophia snorted, putting down the box on the coffee table and plopping down on the couch. “Damn right you do-three alarm clocks and me biting her don’t do jack to wake her up.”
“Dude, I don’t even have an alarm clock,” Jared deadpanned, leaving out the fact that he’d forgotten it when his dad tossed him out on his ass. He sat down, nodding towards the table. “What’s in the box?”
“Always a great question, except at funerals,” Sandy said, leaning over and opening it up. “There’s this great little bakery that backs this building-they make the most amazing donuts, so we brought you some. Not health food, but you’re a growing boy.”
Jared laughed again. “Well, in that case…” He picked up a plain glazed and bit into it, then groaned nearly as loudly as the door. “Oh. My. God. I love you guys already.”
“Feeling’s mutual, honey.” Sophia grabbed Sandy around the waist, pulling her down into her lap. “Now, tell us about yourself!”
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In an hour of conversation, Jared had decided Sandy and Sophia were the best neighbors ever. They’d covered just about every topic of conversation known to mankind, from Misha to dildo colors to the Pepsi/Coke debate.
Draining the last of his coffee, Jared came up with another question to ask the girls. “Um… what do you guys know about Jensen?”
Sophia was twirling a lock of Sandy’s hair around her index finger, and she said thoughtfully, “Well, he and Chris moved up here from Texas about… what, five years ago, now? Obviously he’s cute as a bug, and he’s very sweet. It’s amazing how far he’s come after… everything.”
Jared hesitated, licking the last of the donut icing off his thumb; this next one was more personal. “What, uh… what happened to him? He said he wasn’t born blind.”
The brunettes traded a look. Sandy put a hand on his knee. “No offense, honey, but it’s not our story to tell. It seems like he likes you-that doesn’t happen a lot.”
Sophia sighed. “There was an accident, when he was still in high school. Chris was involved, and neither one of them talk about it much.” She paused, staring at Jared like she was trying to see into his soul… or maybe just his chest cavity. “Sand’s right, Jared. He likes you. Maybe you should make the first move.”
Jared considered this, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I should.”
00000
That afternoon, Jared was ambling through the Rite Aid down the street; without a job, he didn’t really have much to do. Plus, they were out of candy.
Sandy and Sophia had told Jared that Chris worked three jobs: mornings at Dough Heaven, the bakery with the amazing donuts; afternoons at the frozen yogurt joint in Somerville; and evenings bartending at the place across the street. Jensen usually joined him in the morning, had a Braille class after lunch, and came home for dinner.
So, even if Jared wanted to stalk him, he really couldn’t until then. Damn.
Jared bought a new toothbrush, some Reese’s cups, and the girly body wash that Misha liked with one of his last twenty-dollar bills. They already drained his college fund and bank account, and were using the money Misha had put away to start his yoga clinic.
Jared hoped that took off fast, or they’d starve and he’d have to eat his best friend-not cool.
On his way out of the drugstore he paused, a neon flyer catching his eye. It was advertising a server’s position at a restaurant called “The Hungry Beaver”, which was complete with its own logo of a cartoon beaver gnawing on a chicken leg. It was only a couple blocks away from the apartment building.
Jared grinned. Maybe he wouldn’t have to eat Misha after all.
00000
The Hungry Beaver turned out to be a diner on a busy street corner near the Chelsea/Everett town line. It was a metal building with red accents, Christmas lights strung up around the windows, and a tin roof. A large replica of the beaver on the flyer spun on a pole in the parking lot.
Several bells jangled when Jared pushed open the door, and he practically felt his jaw break his feet at what he saw.
The interior of the place was a designer’s version of Hades. The tables ranged from a tiny circular one all the way to a pool table that could be converted to seat a family, while the chairs were anything from knocked-together wood to ones that massaged your back. Half the floor was shag, the other checkered tile; the eat-in counter was a bad horror movie prop, with “blood” dripping down the sides; the menu was written on a chalkboard above that, crammed between one of those weird cat clocks and a constantly-clucking fake rooster. There was a jukebox next to a gumball machine and Bob Dylan was pumping out of the PA system.
Patrons ranged from a mother with three kids to some transvestites to an elderly couple, which was something else that floored Jared. Figures it would be a place like this that could make everyone come together.
“Oooh, hello handsome!” a woman’s voice whistled from behind the counter, gaining his attention. She was a petite thing, with long black hair and a bright smile, and Jared was pretty sure if he were straight she would’ve been his type. She came around to him, resting both hands on his chest and staring up at him with big eyes. “Please tell me you’re here for the job. Otherwise, I might die.”
Jared’s own eyes were huge. “Uh… yeah, actually, I am.”
“Gen, are you molesting the customers again? Christ, girl, try to keep your hands in the damn dishes!” a gruff voice exclaimed, a man emerging from the swinging doors to the kitchen. He had a scruffy beard, and he stuck a hand out for Jared to shake. “Jim Beaver, namesake and owner. This grab-ass is Genevieve. You interested in a job?”
Jared was silent for a moment, and then busted out a mega-watt grin, picking up Genevieve easily and seating her on his shoulder. She giggled accordingly, playing with his hair, and he knew that if he wanted to work anywhere, this was it. “Yeah, totally.”
00000
“So I met another one of our neighbors today,” Misha said, as the two of them made dinner that night. He was mashing potatoes while Jared seasoned some chicken. “And boy is she a bitch on wheels… woman does nothing but nag!”
Jared snorted, putting the meat on a pan and into the tiny oven to cook. “Yeah? What is she, the owner of the building?” When he got no response, he groaned. “Meesh, tell me you didn’t call the freakin’ landlord a bitch!”
“Uh… sure I didn’t.”
“You’re unbelievable. Which neighbor?”
Misha waved vaguely towards the living room wall. “Right side. Her name is Danneel Harris.” He paused, licking the whisk before tossing it into the sink. “Single, ready to mingle, although a little trampy-the lady wears gold nail polish, for fuck’s sake. She runs the yogurt place next door to the unit I rented-the thug your boy-toy runs around with works there.”
Jared whacked Misha’s ass with a big hand. “His name’s Jensen, shithead.”
“Duh. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be telling you that you should ask him out.”
Jared choked on air. “What?”
“You. Should. Ask. Jensen. Out. Or in, if that’s how you roll.” Misha winked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ll make myself scarce at the risk of anything below the waist, you devil. What, do you not have the balls to do it? You gay men are all the same.”
“Says the mostly-stoned bisexual who’s a walking one-night stand and is looking to be a yoga instructor. Yeah, I’m not sure I wanna be taking relationship advice from you.” Secretly, Jared was touched by the fact that Misha had given Jensen his casual approval, and in a strange burst of confidence, he took off his apron and added, “But maybe I’ll give it a shot.”
Misha, who now had his head stuffed in the fridge, gave him a thumbs-up. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
00000
As soon as Jared was across the hall, he started to sweat, and when he raised his hand to knock on the door, he felt it shaking. Crap, this was half the reason he’d never been on a date before; that, and the ratio of gay-to-straight guys in his high school had been unsurprisingly minute.
Come on, Padalecki! Get it together… I mean, what’s he gonna do, say no and then stab you? Jared braced himself, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles against cheap wood.
Footsteps approached the door. “Who is it?”
It was Jensen’s voice-which alone made Jared weak at the knees-and it took him three tries to speak. “It’s, uh, it’s Jared.”
The deadbolt and chain slid back, and Jensen opened the door, which was silent as a morgue compared to Jared and Misha’s. He had on some sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt that looked way too big on him, with his hands in the front pockets. Jared checked to make sure he wasn’t drooling too much.
Jensen leaned against the doorjamb and smiled, oblivious. “Hey, Jared. What’s up?” He pulled one hand out of the sweatshirt, revealing that he had a switchblade in his fingers, and tossed it out of sight. “Guess I won’t need that.”
Jared-still reeling at the fact that if he’d been somebody else, Jensen probably would’ve stabbed him-had to take a moment to stop his brain from melting. “Uh, I kind of wanted to ask you something, and I’ve never really done it before, so, uh… this’ll probably be awkward.”
Jensen’s smile morphed into a grin, and he laughed. “You’re always awkward.” At Jared’s pouty expression, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s cute. Go ahead.”
Now blushing like a fire engine, Jared was stammering. “I… would you, um, would you… would you like to go out? I mean, with me. Like, on a date?”
Jensen sucked in breath, trying desperately to keep himself under control. Under the sleeves of his brother’s sweatshirt, his nails were biting into his palms, and his molars had a grip on the inside of his cheek. His eyes burned behind his sunglasses with something that was probably tears, not that they’d affect his vision. Unbidden thoughts and memories started to assault him, along with an expected wave of guilt.
Still, every synapse in his brain was screaming “YES!” at the top of its lungs, so he replied, “Yeah… I’d love to. Maybe Saturday? We could do dinner.” Jensen paused, sniffing. “Um, Jared? I think something’s burning.”
Jared snapped out of the trance Jensen’s answer had put him in, and wheeled around to race back to his own apartment. “Shit, the chicken! Misha, get the goddamn fire extinguisher!”
“Fuck the fire extinguisher, call the Navy!”
“Why in God’s name would I call the Navy for a fire, shithead!”
Jensen chuckled to himself, then hollered before retreating back into his apartment, “Pick me up at six, you dumbass!"
( part two)