Fic: Subterranean Homesick Blues 3/?
Seriously, this is going to be so long. I think I'm going to have to make the chapters longer. It's blowing my mind-hole.
Read away!
Title: Subterranean Homesick Blues
Author: vicious_trade
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set three years in the future. When a friend passes away, Jensen flies to Vancouver for the funeral and somehow gets coerced into spending the weekend with more than a few familiar faces. He's pretty sure that if he can put the past behind them, drink enough beer, and stop himself from killing Chad, it'll be just like the old days. If he could just get Jared out of his head. A retelling of the Big Chill.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set assuming Supernatural ends after the fifth season. F-bombs galore, features some Jensen/Danneel and Tom/Mike. And Chad. Seriously, you've been warned.
Part One Part Two
Present Day
It takes a couple killed bottles of wine and a dozen or so cigarettes before the mood in the house relaxes. By eleven o’clock, everyone has mellowed out and draped themselves over various pieces of furniture in the living room.
Jensen wishes he could say that he felt the same way, but with Jared sitting just a few feet from him after years apart, it proves to be impossible. So he holds himself rigidly in his armchair, unsure of what to do with his hands. He does his best to keep his eyes away from the younger man, and never speaks directly after him, unsure of what the protocol is.
“Dinner was really good, Mike.” Genevieve chirps from her position on the loveseat. Beside her, Danneel nods her agreement and everyone similarly sounds off.
Mike, lounging across a long couch, shoots them all sceptical looks. “It was pizza. I ordered it in.”
Misha polishes off the last of his glass of something amber in colour, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. “We know, and we’re grateful. We’re hoping it’s a trend that continues for the duration of our stay.”
“You laugh now, but you’ll see.” He pouts. “I’m cooking tomorrow night.”
Danneel quirks an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”
Mike scowls at her and the unconcealed grins from around the room. “Motherfuckers.” He growls, and lies back on the couch. After a beat or two, he mutters “Fuck it,” under his breath, and reaches for a pack of Camels that someone left on the end table.
“Ah ah - no.” Tom catches him as he walks into the room looking freshly showered, dropping onto the end of the couch. “Don’t even think about it.” He kicks sock-covered feet up onto Mike’s lap, dropping them down with his arms crossed sternly across his chest.
Heaving a put upon sigh, Mike frowns petulantly but begins to dutifully massage the feet resting on his legs. “You never let me have fun anymore.”
“You’ll thank me when you aren’t dead.” Tom says wisely, and then shoots disapproving looks at the various cigarette-holders around the room. “And that goes for all of you morons.”
Silent smile tugging at his lips, Jensen glances up, and his heart skips a beat or two because Jared does the same, and their eyes meet briefly from across the coffee table. For a moment, Jensen is positive that he can see the barest hint of a grin reflected in the blue-green eyes, but then Jared looks away and the moment is over so fast Jensen has to wonder if he imagined it.
From where they’ve been necking a few seats down, Chad’s mono-syllabic blonde companion - who they’ve all learned is named Tiffany - whispers something in his ear. When Chad nods agreeably, she removes herself from the arm draped over her shoulder, oblivious to the hand lingering on her ass as she slowly stands and disappears from the room.
Finally noticing the questioning looks he’s getting, Chad looks up. “Hm? Oh, she’s said she’s going to turn in.”
Genevieve is trying not to laugh and failing. “Where did you find that one, Chad?” She asks, shaking her head.
“Hanging around outside of high schools again, are we?” Danneel inserts, giggling.
With a pained expression, Chad rests a hand over his heart, or rather, where it would be if he had one, and gives them all looks of earnest sincerity. “I’ll have you know she’s a college graduate. Our relationship is built on our combined intellect and integrity. Most nights we stay up well past midnight, having the deepest conversations about politics and the environment and...” he trails off laughing and shakes his head. “Shit. I couldn’t even get through that with a straight face.”
Misha starts looking around, hooking a thumb in Chad’s direction. “Who is this guy?” he asks, expression perplexed.
Jensen takes a long drink from his beer bottle, and when he sets it down he finds Chad levelling him with a glare. “What are you smiling about over there, Ackles?” He asks, hooded eyes challenging. “You know, you and I are pretty similar in a lot of respects.”
He knows he shouldn’t, but he takes the bait anyway. “That’s a frightening thought.” Jensen says, leaning back in his seat. This can’t be going anywhere good, and he prays to God that someone will have the foresight to change the subject. Now.
No such luck. “Well, we both managed to nab us these beautiful trophies for our arms.” He begins with a nod at Danneel, counting off on his fingers. He doesn’t get farther than one though, because he pauses and smiles in way that has Jensen physically restraining himself from punching it off that stupid face. “Except, I enjoy boning mine on occasion.”
Everyone in the room stiffens, like all the air has been sucked out.
“Chad,” Genevieve warns, voice going cold. “Don’t be a dick.”
Jensen smiles humourlessly, shaking his head. “That’s like telling the sky not to be blue.” He replies, and someone in the room breaks into laughter.
Chad sits a little more forward in his chair. “Just like you’re a selfish, pussy-whipped coward, right?” he sneers, and when everyone starts warning him to back off, he relaxes, scoffing. “But hey, we’re just calling a spade a spade. Right, Jensen?”
The tension breaks when Jared pushes up from the couch, gently shaking off the hold Genevieve had around his wrist. “I’m gonna go to bed.” He says quietly, moving slowly to the stairs.
Heaving a sigh, Chad actually seems to look pretty guilty as he looks up at his friend. “Jay... I’m sorry, man.” He says, and Jensen almost has to stare, because he’s never heard the younger man sound so...genuine before, if that’s really what he’s detecting in his voice. “We can talk about something else, I...”
Jared waves him off with a tiny smile. “It’s fine. I’m just...exhausted. It’s been a long day.” He scrubs at his eyes with his palms, and when Jensen looks closer, the younger man does look drawn and tired - but he’d looked that way since they’d arrived. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. G’night.” He gives an awkward little wave, and then they’re watching him disappear up the stairs.
“Shit.” Chad mutters, and he’s staring at his hands. “I didn’t mean...”
“Why do you have to do that?” Tom starts in first, glaring hard at the blonde man’s bowed head.
“He was finally starting to let his guard down and have a good time.” Genevieve interjects, arms crossed in front of her chest.
There’s a significant pause, and then Danneel is rising next. “I’m going to turn in, too.” She says, glancing once at Jensen, and then away. “Good night, guys.”
They watch her leave, and Jensen can feel every pair of eyes on him in her absence. He starts to slowly peel the label from the bottle in his hands when Misha, bless his warped little soul, blows out a long, tension-filled breath. “Man.” He mutters, eyes held wide. “And I thought I had problems.” He chuckles lowly.
Genevieve cants her head, giving him a dubious look. “What problems could you possibly have?”
Misha lies back against the carpet. “Well for starters, I live in LA.”
“Yeah, man.” Chad breaks in, apparently recovered from his previous remorse. “I totally know what you mean. In LA it feels like you can’t trust anybody. Everyone is nice, but you don’t know if it’s just because they want something from you, or if they actually like you. You know?” He sighs hopelessly.
“Well, you don’t have that problem here,” Mike deadpans, looking at Chad seriously. “You know I don’t like you.”
“Me neither.” Genevieve adds, smiling.
“Ditto,” says Tom.
Misha clears his throat. “I just met you, but I’m pretty sure I concur.”
Jensen covers a smile with his hand while Chad scowls, dropping his head onto the back of the sofa. “Assholes.”
It’s after two in the morning when Jensen finally makes his way to bed. After brushing his teeth in the bathroom down the hall, he pauses just outside of the room he knows Jared is staying in, noticing a dim light shining from underneath the closed door.
Jensen frowns, hoping that he’s okay.
It feels like a lifetime ago that he would have knocked without a second thought. Now when he thinks about it, what would he even say? And would Jared even be in there alone, for that matter?
The thought of opening that door to find Genevieve on the other side makes his stomach turn. Moving quietly away, he retreats to his own guestroom.
Soundlessly, he slips into his empty bed and tells himself to be tired, willing sleep to hurry the fuck up and claim him. Instead he ends up staring up at a darkened ceiling, listening to Danneel’s even breaths coming from the next bed over and the lapping of the waves on the shore.
When Jared’s haunted expression appears in his head, Jensen wonders how he’s possibly going to make it out of this weekend with his sanity intact.
February, 2009
Jared is a big flirt. It’s not something that bothers Jensen all that much - it’s just stating a fact. Like saying Misha is a little bit weird, or Chad has douche-y tendencies.
So when he notices the way Jared behaves around Genevieve, the way he looks at her, touches her arm, and gives her warm, intimate little smiles, Jensen thinks to himself, okay. That’s just Jared’s way of making people feel comfortable, and Gen has only been a part of the team for a few months. Might as well make her feel at home.
It’s when he walks into the living room one night to find them making out on the couch that jealousy starts to gnaw hard and fast at his gut. He stands frozen, watching Jared press open-mouth kisses to her collarbone while Genevieve’s tiny hand works inside the front of his jeans. Anger lurches up so unexpected and intense that Jensen has no choice but to go with it.
He hides out in the kitchen for nearly a half hour having a staring contest with Harley until Jared walks in.
“Hey,” he says breathily, going to the fridge. He glances at Jensen for only a second, but it’s long enough to catch the guilty look in his eye - the amount of remorse one would reserve for leaving the toilet seat up.
Feeling burned out, Jensen dry washes his face with the flat of his palm. “Want to tell me what the hell that was?” His voice comes out dark and warning, like the calm before a storm. He’d been prepared to have a composed, rational conversation, but looking at Jared now, unable to tear his eyes away from the bruised lips and the red flush disappearing down the collar of his wrinkled shirt, Jensen feels something ugly clawing at his throat.
Jared makes himself busy pouring a glass of water. “Gen was over.” He says quietly, back turned.
“I noticed.” Jensen snaps, eyes blinking rapidly. “So, what - are you guys fucking now?”
“Maybe,” Jared replies, turning back around and leaning up against the counter. “What difference would it make?” He asks, an open challenge to his voice.
Realization settles in and Jensen slams his eyes shut. “My God.” He shakes his head, gripping the corner of the marble countertop hard between his fingers. “Please don’t start with this shit again.”
That sets Jared off like a shot. “Why the hell not? You can keep your girlfriend but I can’t fuck anyone else?” his nostrils are flaring, a sure-fire sign that he’s just crossed over from pissed to irate. “You and Danneel parade around like the couple Best in Show, and it drives me crazy. But I’m not allowed to do the same? Are you seriously that selfish? And please, spare me the bullshit about how complicated it is and I’m too stupid to understand.”
“I never said that! It’s just...” Jensen trails off, growling in frustration. “It’s not that easy, Jared. You know that when this all started, things were different - you were with Sandy, and then me and Danneel...it’s just not that easy.” He finds himself repeating, knowing full well how lame and tired it sounds, but really, it’s all he’s got.
“Jesus!” Jared shouts, slamming his glass down on the counter hard enough that some of the contents splash out and onto the floor. “Look around! It’s been a year, Jen. Do you see Sandy anywhere?” he demands, eyes turning a deep and stormy blue.
Anger falls away and Jensen is left feeling feeble and drained in the aftermath. He sighs and looks down at the table where Jared’s hand is resting, and slowly reaches over to cover it, tentative.
For a moment Jared flinches, his face wincing at the contact but Jensen won’t let him pull away. “What would you do, Jen?” Jared finally asks, his voice timid and small. “Would you wait around to see if it was just for appearances? Or if it’s appearances and sex or...love?”He lifts his eyes now, and they’re shining and looking at him so expectantly.
Jensen swallows. “Jay...”
“Would you stay? Knowing everyday was going to hurt this fucking much?” he continues. “Or would you cut and run?”
Jensen doesn’t care what it’s going to take, but he can’t stand that abandoned, pained look in the younger man’s eyes for a second longer, and he knows he can’t answer the question. So he reaches out and silences him with his lips pressed firmly against Jared’s, ignoring the first feeble moan of protest.
They make love that night and Jensen lets himself pretend that everything is going to be okay. It’s not until the first rays of sunlight are peeking through the bedroom curtains that he realizes everything has changed, whether they wanted it to or not.
Present Day
Jensen isn’t sure what time it is when he finally gives up on trying to sleep, but when he looks out the bedroom window the sky has turned a deep red at the horizon and the tide is slowly making its way back out.
Quietly padding down to the lower floor in his jeans and bare feet, he tiptoes to the kitchen and flicks on the light, easily losing ten years off his life when he finds someone else already rooting through the refrigerator, back turned.
Jared turns around carrying a loaf of bread and a head of lettuce
“Jesus!” Jensen gasps, resting a hand over the middle of his chest. “You’ve gotta stop doin’ that to me, man.”
Guilty, Jared lets the fridge door close. “Sorry,” he says.
Once his heart has stopped pounding, Jensen remembers himself, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. He wonders if he should go and leave Jared to it - after all, he got here first. But they aren’t awkward teenagers and Jensen is a mature adult, so he stands his ground. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” He starts amiably.
Jared shrugs one shoulder. “No, but I’m used to it.”
“Yeah?” Jensen says, encouraging him to say more, because that’s something new. Jared had always been a heavy sleeper. Didn’t matter if the neighbours were strangling a cat next door, or he had an audition he’s been worrying about for weeks the next day, Jared would manage to get a full night’s rest.
But Jared says nothing further on the subject. Instead, he continues to add to a growing array of condiments on Mike’s large, wooden table. “Want a sandwich?” he asks, eyes flickering up to Jensen’s.
For a moment Jensen just pauses, wondering if Jared is trying to drive him crazy with avoidance - avoiding eye contact, avoiding questions, even speaking all together. Jared, the guy you used to have to gag just to get a few words in edgewise. Jared, who had been known to call Jensen in the middle of the day just to tell him everything he’d had to eat that day. But there’s something troubled about his expression so Jensen holds his tongue, simply replying “Sure,” before taking a seat. He sits silently while Jared’s knife clanks inside of a mayonnaise jar.
It’s not too long before he’s had enough. “Hey, Jared,” he starts, fingers picking absently at a knot in the wood. “I’m sorry about before, it was...”
“Wow, you lasted a whole, what, two minutes? How am I not surprised?” Jared interrupts suddenly, shaking his head. “Save it, okay? It’s fine. Besides, it’s not like you started it or anything.”
Jensen tips his head, weighing that. The man has a valid point. “Yeah,” he concedes, and then gives a mock-shudder. “Fuckin’ Chad Michael Murray.” He spits, looking out the window at the dawn.
Jared’s hands pause mid-spread, knife poised over a piece of whole wheat. “Why do you always say his name like that?”
Confused, Jensen looks up. “Like what?”
“Like that - ‘Chad Michael Murray’. You say the whole thing, first, middle, and last.” He explains, eyeing Jensen curiously. “In fact, you’ve always said it like that for as long as I’ve known you.”
He has to think about it for a moment, but yeah, Jensen guesses that’s about right. He’d never really noticed or given it any conscious thought before. But that’s just because he tries not to waste too many brain cells on - well, Chad. “Huh,” he says, shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I think it’s because I use it like a curse word - like when you stub your toe and all you want to say is Jesus H. Christ. You’ve got to declare the full name or it doesn’t have the same impact.” He explains truthfully.
There’s quiet, and then the corner of Jared’s mouth twitches. “So the next time I, oh, I don’t know, accidentally hit my thumb with a hammer...”
“You’re gonna be like, ‘Chad Michael Murray, that shit hurts!’” Jensen finishes, nodding.
For the first time since they’ve arrived, Jared laughs - a real, honest to God guffaw and when Jensen hears it, it’s like his head is finally breaking surface. He watches Jared smile, head thrown back and eyes showing the first signs of life, he wishes he could freeze the moment or take a picture. Something he could keep and have on him always in case he doesn’t get to see it again for the next three years.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Jared sets a plate in front of Jensen and takes a seat across from him. “Man,” he sighs, last few giggles still tapering off. “You do realize that you just compared Chad to Jesus, though, right?”
Shooting the younger man a dangerous look, Jensen takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Tell a soul and I’ll kill you,” he warns mock-seriously around a mouthful of lettuce and tomato.
They lapse into companionable silence after that, sitting and chewing. It’s after Jared has almost finished his food that he speaks again, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Chad means well. He’s just a little...misguided in his approach.” He explains, staring at the crumbs on his plate. “I mean, I’m the one who asked him to come. And he did, no questions asked.”
“Oh?” Jensen says, surprised. That’s when he realizes that Jared doesn’t mean for support. At least, not support for Jim’s death. “Oh.” He says again, quieter. He should have known, really. After all, Chad was always the number one cheerleader for Team Jared, and who do you bring as backup when facing the man who broke your heart for the first time in three years but your best wingman?
Jared fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. “Just should have told him to go easy.”
“Chad only has one setting.” Jensen smirks lightly. “And it isn’t easy.”
All he gets is a half-hearted smile and a few more beats of uneasy silence. Then Jared clears his throat and stands, picking up his plate. “I’m going to head back to bed.” He says, placing the dishes in the sink and turning back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
Jensen nods. “Yeah.”
One more tight smile, and Jared is gone.
This time when he goes up to bed, whether it’s the sandwich in his stomach or the image of Jared’s grinning face, sleep finds Jensen a little easier.
Part Four
Read away!
Title: Subterranean Homesick Blues
Author: vicious_trade
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set three years in the future. When a friend passes away, Jensen flies to Vancouver for the funeral and somehow gets coerced into spending the weekend with more than a few familiar faces. He's pretty sure that if he can put the past behind them, drink enough beer, and stop himself from killing Chad, it'll be just like the old days. If he could just get Jared out of his head. A retelling of the Big Chill.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set assuming Supernatural ends after the fifth season. F-bombs galore, features some Jensen/Danneel and Tom/Mike. And Chad. Seriously, you've been warned.
Part One Part Two
Present Day
It takes a couple killed bottles of wine and a dozen or so cigarettes before the mood in the house relaxes. By eleven o’clock, everyone has mellowed out and draped themselves over various pieces of furniture in the living room.
Jensen wishes he could say that he felt the same way, but with Jared sitting just a few feet from him after years apart, it proves to be impossible. So he holds himself rigidly in his armchair, unsure of what to do with his hands. He does his best to keep his eyes away from the younger man, and never speaks directly after him, unsure of what the protocol is.
“Dinner was really good, Mike.” Genevieve chirps from her position on the loveseat. Beside her, Danneel nods her agreement and everyone similarly sounds off.
Mike, lounging across a long couch, shoots them all sceptical looks. “It was pizza. I ordered it in.”
Misha polishes off the last of his glass of something amber in colour, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. “We know, and we’re grateful. We’re hoping it’s a trend that continues for the duration of our stay.”
“You laugh now, but you’ll see.” He pouts. “I’m cooking tomorrow night.”
Danneel quirks an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”
Mike scowls at her and the unconcealed grins from around the room. “Motherfuckers.” He growls, and lies back on the couch. After a beat or two, he mutters “Fuck it,” under his breath, and reaches for a pack of Camels that someone left on the end table.
“Ah ah - no.” Tom catches him as he walks into the room looking freshly showered, dropping onto the end of the couch. “Don’t even think about it.” He kicks sock-covered feet up onto Mike’s lap, dropping them down with his arms crossed sternly across his chest.
Heaving a put upon sigh, Mike frowns petulantly but begins to dutifully massage the feet resting on his legs. “You never let me have fun anymore.”
“You’ll thank me when you aren’t dead.” Tom says wisely, and then shoots disapproving looks at the various cigarette-holders around the room. “And that goes for all of you morons.”
Silent smile tugging at his lips, Jensen glances up, and his heart skips a beat or two because Jared does the same, and their eyes meet briefly from across the coffee table. For a moment, Jensen is positive that he can see the barest hint of a grin reflected in the blue-green eyes, but then Jared looks away and the moment is over so fast Jensen has to wonder if he imagined it.
From where they’ve been necking a few seats down, Chad’s mono-syllabic blonde companion - who they’ve all learned is named Tiffany - whispers something in his ear. When Chad nods agreeably, she removes herself from the arm draped over her shoulder, oblivious to the hand lingering on her ass as she slowly stands and disappears from the room.
Finally noticing the questioning looks he’s getting, Chad looks up. “Hm? Oh, she’s said she’s going to turn in.”
Genevieve is trying not to laugh and failing. “Where did you find that one, Chad?” She asks, shaking her head.
“Hanging around outside of high schools again, are we?” Danneel inserts, giggling.
With a pained expression, Chad rests a hand over his heart, or rather, where it would be if he had one, and gives them all looks of earnest sincerity. “I’ll have you know she’s a college graduate. Our relationship is built on our combined intellect and integrity. Most nights we stay up well past midnight, having the deepest conversations about politics and the environment and...” he trails off laughing and shakes his head. “Shit. I couldn’t even get through that with a straight face.”
Misha starts looking around, hooking a thumb in Chad’s direction. “Who is this guy?” he asks, expression perplexed.
Jensen takes a long drink from his beer bottle, and when he sets it down he finds Chad levelling him with a glare. “What are you smiling about over there, Ackles?” He asks, hooded eyes challenging. “You know, you and I are pretty similar in a lot of respects.”
He knows he shouldn’t, but he takes the bait anyway. “That’s a frightening thought.” Jensen says, leaning back in his seat. This can’t be going anywhere good, and he prays to God that someone will have the foresight to change the subject. Now.
No such luck. “Well, we both managed to nab us these beautiful trophies for our arms.” He begins with a nod at Danneel, counting off on his fingers. He doesn’t get farther than one though, because he pauses and smiles in way that has Jensen physically restraining himself from punching it off that stupid face. “Except, I enjoy boning mine on occasion.”
Everyone in the room stiffens, like all the air has been sucked out.
“Chad,” Genevieve warns, voice going cold. “Don’t be a dick.”
Jensen smiles humourlessly, shaking his head. “That’s like telling the sky not to be blue.” He replies, and someone in the room breaks into laughter.
Chad sits a little more forward in his chair. “Just like you’re a selfish, pussy-whipped coward, right?” he sneers, and when everyone starts warning him to back off, he relaxes, scoffing. “But hey, we’re just calling a spade a spade. Right, Jensen?”
The tension breaks when Jared pushes up from the couch, gently shaking off the hold Genevieve had around his wrist. “I’m gonna go to bed.” He says quietly, moving slowly to the stairs.
Heaving a sigh, Chad actually seems to look pretty guilty as he looks up at his friend. “Jay... I’m sorry, man.” He says, and Jensen almost has to stare, because he’s never heard the younger man sound so...genuine before, if that’s really what he’s detecting in his voice. “We can talk about something else, I...”
Jared waves him off with a tiny smile. “It’s fine. I’m just...exhausted. It’s been a long day.” He scrubs at his eyes with his palms, and when Jensen looks closer, the younger man does look drawn and tired - but he’d looked that way since they’d arrived. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. G’night.” He gives an awkward little wave, and then they’re watching him disappear up the stairs.
“Shit.” Chad mutters, and he’s staring at his hands. “I didn’t mean...”
“Why do you have to do that?” Tom starts in first, glaring hard at the blonde man’s bowed head.
“He was finally starting to let his guard down and have a good time.” Genevieve interjects, arms crossed in front of her chest.
There’s a significant pause, and then Danneel is rising next. “I’m going to turn in, too.” She says, glancing once at Jensen, and then away. “Good night, guys.”
They watch her leave, and Jensen can feel every pair of eyes on him in her absence. He starts to slowly peel the label from the bottle in his hands when Misha, bless his warped little soul, blows out a long, tension-filled breath. “Man.” He mutters, eyes held wide. “And I thought I had problems.” He chuckles lowly.
Genevieve cants her head, giving him a dubious look. “What problems could you possibly have?”
Misha lies back against the carpet. “Well for starters, I live in LA.”
“Yeah, man.” Chad breaks in, apparently recovered from his previous remorse. “I totally know what you mean. In LA it feels like you can’t trust anybody. Everyone is nice, but you don’t know if it’s just because they want something from you, or if they actually like you. You know?” He sighs hopelessly.
“Well, you don’t have that problem here,” Mike deadpans, looking at Chad seriously. “You know I don’t like you.”
“Me neither.” Genevieve adds, smiling.
“Ditto,” says Tom.
Misha clears his throat. “I just met you, but I’m pretty sure I concur.”
Jensen covers a smile with his hand while Chad scowls, dropping his head onto the back of the sofa. “Assholes.”
It’s after two in the morning when Jensen finally makes his way to bed. After brushing his teeth in the bathroom down the hall, he pauses just outside of the room he knows Jared is staying in, noticing a dim light shining from underneath the closed door.
Jensen frowns, hoping that he’s okay.
It feels like a lifetime ago that he would have knocked without a second thought. Now when he thinks about it, what would he even say? And would Jared even be in there alone, for that matter?
The thought of opening that door to find Genevieve on the other side makes his stomach turn. Moving quietly away, he retreats to his own guestroom.
Soundlessly, he slips into his empty bed and tells himself to be tired, willing sleep to hurry the fuck up and claim him. Instead he ends up staring up at a darkened ceiling, listening to Danneel’s even breaths coming from the next bed over and the lapping of the waves on the shore.
When Jared’s haunted expression appears in his head, Jensen wonders how he’s possibly going to make it out of this weekend with his sanity intact.
February, 2009
Jared is a big flirt. It’s not something that bothers Jensen all that much - it’s just stating a fact. Like saying Misha is a little bit weird, or Chad has douche-y tendencies.
So when he notices the way Jared behaves around Genevieve, the way he looks at her, touches her arm, and gives her warm, intimate little smiles, Jensen thinks to himself, okay. That’s just Jared’s way of making people feel comfortable, and Gen has only been a part of the team for a few months. Might as well make her feel at home.
It’s when he walks into the living room one night to find them making out on the couch that jealousy starts to gnaw hard and fast at his gut. He stands frozen, watching Jared press open-mouth kisses to her collarbone while Genevieve’s tiny hand works inside the front of his jeans. Anger lurches up so unexpected and intense that Jensen has no choice but to go with it.
He hides out in the kitchen for nearly a half hour having a staring contest with Harley until Jared walks in.
“Hey,” he says breathily, going to the fridge. He glances at Jensen for only a second, but it’s long enough to catch the guilty look in his eye - the amount of remorse one would reserve for leaving the toilet seat up.
Feeling burned out, Jensen dry washes his face with the flat of his palm. “Want to tell me what the hell that was?” His voice comes out dark and warning, like the calm before a storm. He’d been prepared to have a composed, rational conversation, but looking at Jared now, unable to tear his eyes away from the bruised lips and the red flush disappearing down the collar of his wrinkled shirt, Jensen feels something ugly clawing at his throat.
Jared makes himself busy pouring a glass of water. “Gen was over.” He says quietly, back turned.
“I noticed.” Jensen snaps, eyes blinking rapidly. “So, what - are you guys fucking now?”
“Maybe,” Jared replies, turning back around and leaning up against the counter. “What difference would it make?” He asks, an open challenge to his voice.
Realization settles in and Jensen slams his eyes shut. “My God.” He shakes his head, gripping the corner of the marble countertop hard between his fingers. “Please don’t start with this shit again.”
That sets Jared off like a shot. “Why the hell not? You can keep your girlfriend but I can’t fuck anyone else?” his nostrils are flaring, a sure-fire sign that he’s just crossed over from pissed to irate. “You and Danneel parade around like the couple Best in Show, and it drives me crazy. But I’m not allowed to do the same? Are you seriously that selfish? And please, spare me the bullshit about how complicated it is and I’m too stupid to understand.”
“I never said that! It’s just...” Jensen trails off, growling in frustration. “It’s not that easy, Jared. You know that when this all started, things were different - you were with Sandy, and then me and Danneel...it’s just not that easy.” He finds himself repeating, knowing full well how lame and tired it sounds, but really, it’s all he’s got.
“Jesus!” Jared shouts, slamming his glass down on the counter hard enough that some of the contents splash out and onto the floor. “Look around! It’s been a year, Jen. Do you see Sandy anywhere?” he demands, eyes turning a deep and stormy blue.
Anger falls away and Jensen is left feeling feeble and drained in the aftermath. He sighs and looks down at the table where Jared’s hand is resting, and slowly reaches over to cover it, tentative.
For a moment Jared flinches, his face wincing at the contact but Jensen won’t let him pull away. “What would you do, Jen?” Jared finally asks, his voice timid and small. “Would you wait around to see if it was just for appearances? Or if it’s appearances and sex or...love?”He lifts his eyes now, and they’re shining and looking at him so expectantly.
Jensen swallows. “Jay...”
“Would you stay? Knowing everyday was going to hurt this fucking much?” he continues. “Or would you cut and run?”
Jensen doesn’t care what it’s going to take, but he can’t stand that abandoned, pained look in the younger man’s eyes for a second longer, and he knows he can’t answer the question. So he reaches out and silences him with his lips pressed firmly against Jared’s, ignoring the first feeble moan of protest.
They make love that night and Jensen lets himself pretend that everything is going to be okay. It’s not until the first rays of sunlight are peeking through the bedroom curtains that he realizes everything has changed, whether they wanted it to or not.
Present Day
Jensen isn’t sure what time it is when he finally gives up on trying to sleep, but when he looks out the bedroom window the sky has turned a deep red at the horizon and the tide is slowly making its way back out.
Quietly padding down to the lower floor in his jeans and bare feet, he tiptoes to the kitchen and flicks on the light, easily losing ten years off his life when he finds someone else already rooting through the refrigerator, back turned.
Jared turns around carrying a loaf of bread and a head of lettuce
“Jesus!” Jensen gasps, resting a hand over the middle of his chest. “You’ve gotta stop doin’ that to me, man.”
Guilty, Jared lets the fridge door close. “Sorry,” he says.
Once his heart has stopped pounding, Jensen remembers himself, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. He wonders if he should go and leave Jared to it - after all, he got here first. But they aren’t awkward teenagers and Jensen is a mature adult, so he stands his ground. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” He starts amiably.
Jared shrugs one shoulder. “No, but I’m used to it.”
“Yeah?” Jensen says, encouraging him to say more, because that’s something new. Jared had always been a heavy sleeper. Didn’t matter if the neighbours were strangling a cat next door, or he had an audition he’s been worrying about for weeks the next day, Jared would manage to get a full night’s rest.
But Jared says nothing further on the subject. Instead, he continues to add to a growing array of condiments on Mike’s large, wooden table. “Want a sandwich?” he asks, eyes flickering up to Jensen’s.
For a moment Jensen just pauses, wondering if Jared is trying to drive him crazy with avoidance - avoiding eye contact, avoiding questions, even speaking all together. Jared, the guy you used to have to gag just to get a few words in edgewise. Jared, who had been known to call Jensen in the middle of the day just to tell him everything he’d had to eat that day. But there’s something troubled about his expression so Jensen holds his tongue, simply replying “Sure,” before taking a seat. He sits silently while Jared’s knife clanks inside of a mayonnaise jar.
It’s not too long before he’s had enough. “Hey, Jared,” he starts, fingers picking absently at a knot in the wood. “I’m sorry about before, it was...”
“Wow, you lasted a whole, what, two minutes? How am I not surprised?” Jared interrupts suddenly, shaking his head. “Save it, okay? It’s fine. Besides, it’s not like you started it or anything.”
Jensen tips his head, weighing that. The man has a valid point. “Yeah,” he concedes, and then gives a mock-shudder. “Fuckin’ Chad Michael Murray.” He spits, looking out the window at the dawn.
Jared’s hands pause mid-spread, knife poised over a piece of whole wheat. “Why do you always say his name like that?”
Confused, Jensen looks up. “Like what?”
“Like that - ‘Chad Michael Murray’. You say the whole thing, first, middle, and last.” He explains, eyeing Jensen curiously. “In fact, you’ve always said it like that for as long as I’ve known you.”
He has to think about it for a moment, but yeah, Jensen guesses that’s about right. He’d never really noticed or given it any conscious thought before. But that’s just because he tries not to waste too many brain cells on - well, Chad. “Huh,” he says, shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I think it’s because I use it like a curse word - like when you stub your toe and all you want to say is Jesus H. Christ. You’ve got to declare the full name or it doesn’t have the same impact.” He explains truthfully.
There’s quiet, and then the corner of Jared’s mouth twitches. “So the next time I, oh, I don’t know, accidentally hit my thumb with a hammer...”
“You’re gonna be like, ‘Chad Michael Murray, that shit hurts!’” Jensen finishes, nodding.
For the first time since they’ve arrived, Jared laughs - a real, honest to God guffaw and when Jensen hears it, it’s like his head is finally breaking surface. He watches Jared smile, head thrown back and eyes showing the first signs of life, he wishes he could freeze the moment or take a picture. Something he could keep and have on him always in case he doesn’t get to see it again for the next three years.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Jared sets a plate in front of Jensen and takes a seat across from him. “Man,” he sighs, last few giggles still tapering off. “You do realize that you just compared Chad to Jesus, though, right?”
Shooting the younger man a dangerous look, Jensen takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Tell a soul and I’ll kill you,” he warns mock-seriously around a mouthful of lettuce and tomato.
They lapse into companionable silence after that, sitting and chewing. It’s after Jared has almost finished his food that he speaks again, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Chad means well. He’s just a little...misguided in his approach.” He explains, staring at the crumbs on his plate. “I mean, I’m the one who asked him to come. And he did, no questions asked.”
“Oh?” Jensen says, surprised. That’s when he realizes that Jared doesn’t mean for support. At least, not support for Jim’s death. “Oh.” He says again, quieter. He should have known, really. After all, Chad was always the number one cheerleader for Team Jared, and who do you bring as backup when facing the man who broke your heart for the first time in three years but your best wingman?
Jared fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. “Just should have told him to go easy.”
“Chad only has one setting.” Jensen smirks lightly. “And it isn’t easy.”
All he gets is a half-hearted smile and a few more beats of uneasy silence. Then Jared clears his throat and stands, picking up his plate. “I’m going to head back to bed.” He says, placing the dishes in the sink and turning back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
Jensen nods. “Yeah.”
One more tight smile, and Jared is gone.
This time when he goes up to bed, whether it’s the sandwich in his stomach or the image of Jared’s grinning face, sleep finds Jensen a little easier.
Part Four