Big Bang: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn (J2, R // 5/6)

[zephyrocity]

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn
Full header in MASTER POST.

part four

Jensen put the phone down. Jared had stopped bashing against the door, and it was perfectly silent. He shut his eyes and listened as Jeff's security came clomping up the stairs. Jared went without a fight, barely a peep at all.

"But I love you," he'd said, so plainly.

Jensen sat down on the bed and cried.

~
Filming started the following week. The first day, Chad dropped down beside Jared on the couch and gave him a gentle push. "Hey, man," he said, toeing at an empty tissue box on the floor. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, and his smile was kind in a way that Jared only saw once in a blue moon. One hand was hovering in the air like he wasn't sure whether to touch Jared or not. "You're gonna come to the shoot today, right?" He puffed out his chest. "Don't want to miss seeing me crawling around on my knees, yeah? And you definitely don't want to miss out on Mike's awesome wig."

Jared mustered up a hoarse laugh that did little to hide how he was feeling and spooned another forkful of cold Chinese food into his mouth. "Don't need me there," he mumbled through the lo mein. "The writing part is over."

"I still think it's your movie, Jared," Chad said, quieter. "What the fuck is wrong?"

Jared shook his head and stared blankly at the television. He'd been dodging questions all week. Chad didn't know what had happened with Jensen, didn't need to. "Just don't want to," he said finally, fishing beneath the blanket he was swathed in for the remote control. He clicked away from Oprah and settled on an episode of CSI. Uncomplicated blood and guts was just was he needed right now.

Chad spent the opening credits staring silently into his lap, nervously knotting and unknotting his fingers. Then he reached out and closed his bony hand around Jared's shoulder; the touch was so unexpected that Jared flinched away from it. Chad immediately jerked his hand back, eyes wide and blue and scared. "Sorry," he said hastily. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Jay. I just. I'm worried about you and I don't know what's wrong, and you're not going to tell me-"

Jared curled deeper into the blankets. "Don't be," he said, because Chad was right. "Okay? Just. Don't."

Chad let out a heavy sigh, his head hung between his shoulders, before slowly rising to his feet. Jared kept his eyes fixed on the TV and didn't listen to the sound of Chad's footsteps clicking away against the wood floor.

Jared only noticed that Chad had left when he looked back over his shoulder to see how many steps it would take him to get to the kitchen for another beer.

-
A few days after that, Mike came to him. "We're making good progress," he said as he dumped a six-pack on Jared's stomach. "Jensen told me that you guys split. You need a drinking buddy?"

Jared grabbed the beer and cracked one open on the coffee table. "Okay," he said, and moved his feet so Mike could sit down; after all, misery loved company. Even if the company was Mike. Jared picked at the sea of soaked through, wadded up tissues in his lap, bottling up the urge to ask if there was any particular reason Mike was willing to get drunk with him in the middle of the afternoon. Mike told him anyway.

"Tom yelled at me today," he sulked. "Said I wasn't focussed. Dude, are you watching Sixteen Candles?"

It turned out Mike was a pretty awesome drunk. Midway through his third beer, he started telling Jared all these crazy stories about Tom, and Jared, despite himself, ended up laughing so hard he sprayed Budweiser out of his nose.

It was great until Mike started in on the time Tom hooked up with Jensen. It zapped the humour right out of the room and Mike didn't notice until he was halfway through the story of his own drunken hook-up with Jensen. He left pretty quickly after that.

-
One week later, Tom brought Jared a pint of Haagen-Dazs' hazelnut ice cream. However hard it was to look him in the eye after Mike's stories, Jared had no problem wolfing down the cold treat. He muted Pretty in Pink and watched as Tom paced around the apartment with his hands in his hair, his agitation obvious.

"Fucking Jensen," Tom griped after walking the entire length of the flat three times. "The guy's a total fucking wreck."

Jared turned to him slowly, the spoon frozen halfway to his mouth. Tom flinched.

"Oh, fuck," he said, with feeling. "Sorry," he added hastily. "Sorry, sorry. Christ, Jared. I wasn't thinking."

Jared shrugged, mumbled, "Didn't even know you knew."

Tom joined him on the couch. "Mike told me," he said. "I'm really sorry, man."

Jared turned back to Pretty in Pink and waited for Tom to get the hint and just leave.

-
Three weeks into filming, Sophia came home from the hospital at ten past two in the morning, still in dirty scrubs. Jared lifted his beer in greeting and continued to mindlessly watch The Breakfast Club. When she sat beside him, he took a long pull and turned to her. He didn't bother wiping at his eyes. "When you grow up, your heart dies," he confided in her quietly.

"You're drunk," she said, not unkindly. "Why don't you go to bed?"

He shrugged. "Too far away," he mumbled. "Comfortable here."

Sophia sighed and leaned down to collect the abandoned empty beer bottles at his feet. "I'm getting you out of the house," she said, pointing at him. "Tomorrow. We'll go shopping or something. Ooh, I know. We can go to the gym!"

Jared shook his head mutely and turned back to the screen, where Bender was crawling through the heating vents. "A naked blonde walks into a bar with a poodle under one arm and a two foot salami under the other," Bender said, and Jared snorted a laugh into his beer. He swallowed the sound with a hiccup when he realised it sounded more like sobbing, then nearly jumped when Sophia's hand ghosted through his hair.

"Jared," she said, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze. "You need to clean yourself up. Tomorrow, promise me you'll… get off this couch, at least." Her mouth curved in a teasing smile; to him, it just looked sad. "To shower, I mean. You reek."

Jared shrugged her off, but he woke up the next morning and threw himself into the shower, leaving his empty beer cans arranged in a haphazard pyramid on the coffee table and the DVD menu of The Breakfast Club playing on repeat.

The shower was as far as he got. By the time Chad came home at eight, Jared was back on the couch. Ferris Bueller's Day Off had been calling.

Chad plunked down beside him. "Awesome," he said, pointing at the still-erected beer can pyramid. He waited a moment, fidgeting with the cuffs on his sleeves, and added, "Sophia told me you guys were going to go out today."

Sophia had tried. She'd sat in front of the TV for half an hour, happily poking and prodding and pestering until Jared had gotten thoroughly fed up and told her, "I had my goddamn shower, so go away."

Chad obviously hadn't heard that part of the story, so Jared just grunted noncommittally and watched Matthew Broderick make out with Mia Sara.

Dissatisfied, Chad nudged him and said, "You know, we wrapped today."

"Ah," said Jared. Chad, who was gone long before Jared woke up in the mornings and usually came back too tired to talk, had been keeping him updated about the film through the world of text messaging; Jared considered the one he'd gotten at half past six-'omfg were fuckin done!'-and mustered up a smile. "That's cool," he said honestly, clapping Chad on the back. "Really cool."

"Soon as the editing's done," Chad continued, so excited he was practically buzzing with it, "we'll submit it to Outfest-you know, that gay film festival? Deadline's really soon, so we're going to be hard at work. Well, I say we, but I really mean Tom and Jeff and shit. Oh yeah, and Chris. You've heard him sing, right? He's fucking awesome, dude. And Steve's a badass."

Jared nodded distractedly, thinking back on the phone calls and brief meeting he'd sat through along with the rest of the cast and crew. Jensen hadn't looked him in the eye, not once, and Jared had miserably learned all he ever wanted and more about Outfest and the opportunities it presented. "Sounds great," he said faintly.

Chad was silent for a few long seconds and then he whirled around so fast he nearly took out Jared's eye with one bony elbow. "Jesus Christ," he said, his face red with anger, eyes screwed up even more than normal. "Just cheer the fuck up, would you?"

Shocked by the sudden outburst, Jared licked his lips and stared at him, trying to come up with an appropriate response that wasn't no but had the same effect. In the end he settled on, "What?"

Chad threw up his arms. "What the fuck is your problem? Is this still about Jensen?"

Jared went quiet. "How did you-?"

"Tom and Mike told me," Chad bit out. In frustration, he kicked over the pyramid of cans. He looked unapologetic and pissed off when he met Jared's eyes again. "You know," he added, acidly, "it sucked finding out through them. I was all, 'What the hell is wrong with Jared?' and they were like, 'Fucking duh, douche bag, Jensen dumped him!'" He shut his mouth abruptly, wincing as he caught sight of Jared's scowl. "Sorry," he muttered. "But come on, man. I thought I was your best fucking friend. Aren't I supposed to get told about these things first, not last?"

Jared looked away. "Jensen told Mike, and Mike told Tom," he said, because it was a perfectly valid excuse. "I never told them anything."

"Who told Sophia?"

Oh yeah. Jared scratched the back of his neck and scuffed his slippers into the carpet. He vaguely remembered drunkenly spilling his guts to her. "That might have been me. I don't know."

Chad sighed and shook his head. "Whatever, it's okay," he said, even though it clearly wasn't. "I'm more worried about you, anyway. I've never seen you this broken up over a breakup before. Not even when Sandy McCoy dumped you the night of junior prom."

"She dumped me because I told her I was gay, Chad."

Chad waved a hand in the air, a clear dismissal. "Not my point," he said breezily. "But, you know… it's just Jensen, man. Not the end of the world. There are other fish in the sea, right?"

Even though the sentiment that life would go on should have been exactly what Jared wanted to hear, he found himself bristling against it, anger tightening in his gut. "Yeah," Jared said nastily. "Just Jensen. Just the guy I- I'm stupidly fucking in love with."

Chad's hopeful smile vanished. "I didn't-I mean-" he sputtered, before falling silent and collapsing back on the couch. "Shit, Jay. I didn't realise you were so… gone for him. I'm going to kick his fucking ass for doing this to you."

"Chad, I'm fine-"

"You are not fucking fine!" Chad snapped, knocking Jared's placatingly raised hands out of the way. "Look at you! Jesus Christ, you've had more beer in three weeks than I've had in-in like-three months! And that's saying something, 'cause I'm me." He glared at the collapsed pyramid. "Fuck, I'm going to break his fucking pretty-boy face."

And that made Jared angry, irrationally. Defending Jensen should not have been high on his list of priorities, but he was lashing out and kicking Chad hard in the shin before he even stopped to think about it. "No," he said sharply, and gestured down at himself. "Look at me. I'm up. About. Sober."

"Bunny slippers and sweatpants do not count as up and about," said a voice from behind them. Mike was toeing off his shoes in the doorway. Tom was beside him.

Jared sunk further into the sofa. "Shouldn't you guys be at a wrap party or something?"

Mike shook his head. "No, we ditched. I'd rather get my teeth pulled than spend time with Mr. Duke, and Jensen's no fucking fun anymore." He flopped down on the couch and slung his arm around Jared's shoulders. "So I got talking to Tom and squinty over here, and we decided that we've had enough of your emo bullshit!"

"Intervention time!" Chad exclaimed, not losing his smile as he stamped hard on Mike's foot. "Time to clean yourself the fuck up, man. You're getting fat."

"I am not!" Jared protested. He squirmed away before Chad could poke his stomach and prove him wrong.

"You so are," Tom said, grinning openly now that the stress of directing was gone from his shoulders. "C'mon, man. Think of all the hot guys out there that want to hit on you."

Jared's smile faded, and he rubbed a hand through his hair. "I just-it's hard, you know?" He sighed. "It's really hard."

"Life's hard," Mike said, and laughed. "Wow, I'm deep."

"Tomorrow you're going to the gym with Sophia," Chad said to Jared, silencing his protests with a wave of his hand as he stood up. "Now, unlike the rest of you fools, I'm going back to the party. Free food. Free booze. What more could you want?"

Jared felt a flicker of doubt as he waved Chad out the door; when Tom got antsy and decided to drag Mike back to the party not long after, he caught Mike's shirtsleeve and said quietly, "Don't let Chad-"

Mike shrugged him off. "I won't let Chad lay a single finger on him," he said, patting Jared on the head. "Even if he deserves it."

Jared just scrunched his cheeks in a fake smile and watched them go.

-
The plan to monitor Jared's recovery underwent some last minute changes when Tom discovered that he had a week to edit the film before the deadline for submission to Outfest was up. With him and Mike holed up at Satine twelve hours a day, Tom huddled in Jeff's office-turned-studio with Duke and Mike sorting out the soundtrack with Chris and Steve, the job fell to Chad and Sophia.

Jared didn't have a choice in the matter. He gave in when Chad threatened to bathe him if he wouldn't do it himself. The hot water felt almost painfully good, so much better than the brief, freezing shower he'd taken the day before. In the weeks that he'd spent on the couch, Jared had forgotten just how good it felt to be up and walking around. It kept his mind off Jensen.

The first week he spent all at the gym. He ate whole-wheat bread and about ten salads a day, and slimmed down in no time at all. On Friday, he left the treadmill to show support as the film was submitted to Outfest. They wouldn't get confirmation until shortly before, but just having it sent off was incredibly exciting. Jeff told him to watch the final cut, but just seeing the promotional picture-Jensen wrapped up with Mike on a Parisian background-made unhappiness curl in his gut. Jared declined, said he would watch it at the film festival.

Surely he would be over it by then, and fully able to appreciate the masterpiece that he had helped bring about.

The next week, he went to the dentist and got his teeth whitened. St. Elmo's Fire was playing in the waiting room, and Jared was struck with the sinking feeling that he'd never be able to watch another Brat Pack movie again. Certainly no John Hughes. Thankfully, the short, acne-ridden receptionist lifted her head from her desk before it could get very far, calling, "Mister… um, mister Pa…"

No stranger to this situation, Jared stood up and gave her a salute as he walked past. She blushed, eyes blinking wide behind her tortoiseshell glasses.

After that, Jared allowed Sophia to take him out shopping. They didn't have enough cash to buy much, but Sophia ended up with a slinky black dress that Chad would no doubt love, and Jared got a pair of jeans that wasn't ripped to shreds and, at his insistence, a pink button down at Macy's.

"It looks good, doesn't it?" he said, twirling in front of the mirror. He flipped his freshly-cut hair-Mike had worked his magic again-and pasted on a big, toothpaste commercial-worthy smile. "Mom always said pink was my colour."

Sophia laughed and pushed him towards the checkout, giggling when the clerk behind the counter winked and gave him the eye. Jared flushed and smiled back out of courtesy, trying to ignore how the way the clerk's eyes flashed reminded him of Jensen.

In no time at all, the word about the film festival came-they were in. "Big things are coming," Jeff told them, after gathering everybody in his office. Jensen was sitting across the room from Jared, all but pressed up against Duke's side. Jared tried not to notice and kept his eyes on Jeff the entire time.

He nearly lost it when Jensen leaned in to whisper something in Duke's ear. Jared didn't catch it, but he nearly bit through his tongue to keep his head. His eyes were burning, and Jensen never looked at him once.

~
Jensen sat on the edge of the bathtub and swilled water around his mouth, trying to get rid of the chalky taste of his pills. He'd kept the bathroom light off, both because of his splitting headache and the fact that Duke was asleep on the bed in the other room.

Jensen muffled a groan into his hands. He had caught sight of Jared again today, walking through Satine's winding hallways with Jeff. They'd been talking quietly, and it had taken all of Jensen's self-control not to run up and yank Jared into a dark corner.

He'd heard about Jared's sorry state from Tom and Mike. Heard about it over and over, with the bonus of expletives and unhelpful slander, and by the time Jensen began to hear about Jared's John Hughes marathon he was ready to go tell the truth.

Except he really, really wasn't. Because Jared depressed out of his head and spending all his time drunkenly watching eighties coming-of-age films was Jared alive, safely out of Duke's way. Jensen thought about what Duke had said, just a few hours before, when Jensen had been mashed up against his side with no room to move, Duke's arms like iron bands around him. "So good, baby, aren't you glad you took my advice?" Duke had whispered into the dark, leaning down to press a hard kiss to Jensen's slack mouth. "You're mine, mine. Not that fucking writer's. You made the right choice, you know. He won't be hurt."

The thought made Jensen want to throw up. Jared was safe and so, so much better off, but every second Jensen spent with Duke, every night in his bed, every night not spent with Jared-they were destroying him, piece by piece.

There wasn't a thing he could do about it. The film festival opened in a week and a half, and Jared looked so good. Looked fit and healthy and-and happy, most of the time.

And that should have made Jensen happy. He should've been relieved that Jared was getting over it; that he wasn't going to be bogged down by their failed relationship.

But he wasn't. It hurt to see Jared confident again, getting over him. When Jensen was told in passing that Jared had a date-"Some stud from Macy's," Mike said-it hurt like a physical blow.

The fact that Jared was moving on broke him more every day, because Jensen knew he never would.

~
Jared looked down at the tabletop and shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable in the hard, cold, high-backed chair.

Maybe he shouldn't have said yes. It would have been easier. But when he'd returned to Macy's the day after the shopping spree to return the "hideous pink atrocity" as Chad had called it, the clerk at the checkout, same one as before, had gone to the trouble of asking him out, and what was the harm? At least, that was what Jared had thought at the time. Now that he was there, squashed into a tiny Starbucks a block away from Macy's, he found there were all sorts of problems.

"Total stab in the dark," the guy, Milo, was saying. "I thought you were going to call me a fag and pull a hate crime on my ass."

Jared mumbled something noncommittal. Milo squinted at him, maybe offended by his disinterest, so Jared cleared his throat and said, "You gave me the eye yesterday."

Milo flushed, and Jared should have wanted to kick himself for fucking up, but he found that he didn't care. Before things could get seriously awkward, though, one of the women manning the food held up two cups and read out, "Table thirty-one!"

"That's us!" Milo said, and jumped up quick. He made his way through the crowded store to the counter. Jared watched him go, all the while thinking about the wrong things, like how Milo was shorter than Jensen by a good few inches, only just coming up to Jared's shoulder. His eyes didn't have a speck of green in them-just a dull shade of brown-and his face was long and narrow, with thin lips and a crooked smile. He was nothing like Jensen, not in looks or personality, aside from the occasional tactlessness. He talked too much and was loud, overbearing; he managed to look Jared in the eye when Jensen had just clammed up. He didn't need to be coaxed into conversation.

And Jared hated it.

Milo plopped down in his seat, Jared's coffee held out in front of him. "Bon appétit!" he said cheerfully.

Jared thought of La Pomme de Terre and went at his Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino maybe a little too vehemently, judging by the way Milo was staring. After a long moment where he just gaped at Jared, his own drink stopped halfway to his mouth, Milo cleared his throat and said, "Um, Jared? Are you, uh. Are you okay?"

"Fine," Jared said. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Milo took a tentative sip and put his coffee on the table. "Yuck," he said, staring down at it. He was quiet for a few endless seconds, the first real moments of silence since the date began, and then let out a soft sigh. When he finally looked up, Jared felt a pang of guilt at just how disappointed he looked. "Should we just call it quits?"

Jared blinked at him for a moment, befuddled, before the words registered. "Oh," he said finally, and then realised it would probably be polite to put up some sort of fight. "No, man, let's-"

But Milo just continued to look morose. "Dude, are you even gay?"

Jared scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Yes," he said. "Just coming off a bad breakup, that's all. I'm sorry. Bad timing."

Milo shrugged. "Whatever," he muttered. To Jared's surprise, he cracked a smile. "Can't believe I paid three dollars for that"-he pointed at the frappuccino-"and I'm not even going to get laid."

"I don't put out on the first date," Jared said automatically, then flinched and tried to cover it up with a cough. He chugged his coffee and said, "You want me to pay you back?"

Milo shook his head and downed the last of his drink. "No, man, it's fine," he said, checking his watch. His disappointment had faded and now he just looked uncomfortable. "My break ends in ten. I better be getting back."

"Okay," Jared said faintly. Not sure of the etiquette, he just stayed in his seat-rather than rising and being faced with the prospect of either an awkward handshake, or worse, an awkward hug-and lifted his hand in a weak wave when Milo turned to go. His bye died on his lips, because all he could think about as Milo bustled out the door was how his walk wasn't anything like Jensen's, either.

-
The day before Outfest began, Jared's family flew up from San Antonio. He'd dreaded telling them about the film's subject matter, but couldn't have avoided it forever. His mom had hmmed and his dad had gone quiet, unsurprisingly, but Jared had just held the phone to his ear until his mom had said, "Well, honey, I'll guess we'll be flying up."

"Sherri-" his dad had started, but she'd shushed him and kept talking.

"JT, I haven't heard from you in weeks," she had said. "If Megan wasn't here to tell me you were all right, I-"

"Sorry, momma," Jared had said. "I've been busy. Here, look, I'll find you a hotel…"

It turned out that it wasn't just his mom and dad who came. Megan tagged along with her boyfriend in tow, and Jeff greeted Jared at the airport by way of a patented, rib-cracking Padalecki hug. They all piled into Chad's tiny car and Jared drove them to a hotel not far from where the festival was happening. No sooner had Jared dumped their luggage on the floor, Jeff and Matt doing the same behind him, than his mother and father were sitting him down to have a "serious talk".

He knew it was not going to be a pleasant one from the set of Sherri's mouth, the way she was sitting. Her smile looked faintly strained and her hands were folded neatly in her lap; her legs were crossed at the ankles and she had unbuttoned the jacket of her suit. She was looking at him the same way she had when he'd gotten suspended from school after Will Fallows had called him a fag and Jared had broken his nose. His dad, on the other hand, wasn't looking at him at all. It was only when Sherri elbowed him in the side and sharply whispered, "Gerald!" that he cleared his throat and looked up.

"Son," he said. "I know you're making a lot of new friends here, and to be honest I've never thought Chad was a good influence, but this-"

Jared groaned. He felt fifteen again, getting scolded in the living room with his brother and sister as spectators. Megan and Jeff were, after all, sitting on their respective beds, heads propped up on their hands. Megan was even miming tossing popcorn into her mouth, Matt sitting confused beside her.

"Look," Jared said loudly, drowning out the rest of his dad's sentence. He grappled for the easiest lie. "The film was already planned out by the time I got on board. And just. I mean." He wondered if there was a way to say what he wanted to without it being too incriminating. "It's really progressive and-"

Megan was looking at him as if to say, This is the suckiest coming-out speech ever, bro. Jeff was sniggering into the blanket; he'd known since Jared was fourteen and had rushed into his bedroom at three o'clock in the morning and blurted out, "I think I'm a homo!"

Sherri reached forward and patted Jared's knee. "Like your father was saying," she said pointedly, "this is a big, new city. A lot to take in, I know. A lot of new experiences to be had. But… don't go overboard, JT. There's no need to-"

"I'm not going overboard," Jared mumbled into his clenched fists. He just wanted to leave. "I'm not. Look. I really have to go. Lots to do before tomorrow. Meetings to go to, people to talk to." That wasn't true in the slightest, but his parents didn't need to know that. He checked his watch and feigned exasperation. "I'm late already. Excuse me."

"Don't interrupt, dear, it's rude," Sherri continued without missing a beat, but she allowed him to stand. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Jared nodded and kissed her on the cheek, trying to make his smile look as real as possible. As he went to the door, he heard his father say quietly, "He's not getting out of this. What's wrong with him?"

Jared ignored that and left without a backwards glance.

-
Jared never expected the crowd at Outfest to be so big. People were lined up and down blocks, chatting excitedly about their ten favourite days of the year. His family stood awkwardly in the middle of it, and Jared was rather relieved to leave them when Chad came over and pulled him into the theatre. Jared was jittery, twitching in his seat as the lights dimmed, because Jensen and Duke were only a few seats away. Through the opening sequence Jared could barely concentrate; his eyes kept flicking over three seats, zeroing in on how Duke's hand was closed around the nape of Jensen's neck, how Jensen sat stiff and uncomfortable in his seat.

Then Chad elbowed him, and Jared sunk back and directed his focus to the screen.

And it was amazing. Funny and heartfelt and satisfying and everything Jared had hoped it would be. He never really thought about how good it would feel, to see his creation come to life on the big screen. But there was Jensen, suited up and hair gelled, rolling around on the floor in a polka-dotted blanket while Mike stood over him, staring. Jared hadn't really given thought to Mike's acting talent before, but Jared was laughing along with the audience at Mike's embarrassed facial contortions.

Then there was Jensen-who was perfect for the role in every way, from his inflection to his sly smiles and the way he held himself, just as Jared knew he would be. It hurt to watch, a little, but Jared got a sudden, happy flurry in his stomach when he looked over halfway through and Jensen's eyes weren't on the screen. Jensen was staring at Jared instead, though he whipped his head back around the moment he saw Jared looking back.

It sent Jared reeling. It was too dark, the moment over too quick for him to read the emotions that he'd seen in Jensen's eyes-but it was something, he knew. And he shouldn't have been hoping for anything at all, but he continued to sneak glances at Jensen for the rest of the film, hoping that their eyes would meet again.

It didn't happen, and after it was over, Jensen brushed past him without a look back. He left at Duke's side before the audience's applause had even died down, in the middle of an endless standing ovation. Not sure how to feel, Jared ducked his family (though he didn't manage to avoid Megan crooning, "God, who was the hot-ass who played the hooker? I'd be on him like white on rice!") and went straight back home.

His mom called him twice and Mike left him three texts, all along the lines of where the fuck r u??, but Jared curled up on the sofa and tried not to think of the way Jensen had been looking at him.

Late afternoon the next day, he woke up with no recollection of having fallen asleep. He picked himself up off the couch and ran a hand through his hideous case of bed head. As he ambled towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, he called out for Chad or Sophia, but there was no response. A knock on their bedroom door and a quick peek inside revealed nobody was home. It was then he realised his phone had been ringing the entire time, waking him up in the first place, and grabbed for it, answering without even looking at the caller ID. The moment hello? was out of his mouth he wanted to take it back; the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to his mother or father.

Thankfully, it wasn't either.

"Mr. Pedilicki?" said Jeff Morgan, voice fuzzy through the line but still distinct.

"Just call me Jared, sir," Jared said, trading exasperation for amusement as he lowered himself onto the couch. "If this is about yesterday, I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't worry about it," Jeff said. "I've had people calling you for hours; I have fantastic news. You'd know already if you hadn't run out of there like a bat out of hell last night." Jeff didn't linger on that point, though, instead diving right into the story of late last night and early that morning.

By the end of it, Jared had nearly dropped the phone twice and there was a ringing in his ears.

Because the film, their film, his film-bought, for a ridiculous sum of money, by Fox fucking Searchlight Pictures.

Jeff was still talking, though Jared could barely hear him. Something about money and Cinderella stories and an up-coming limited release, and Jared didn't tune in until he realised that Jeff was talking about the release. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head and mapping his face with one hand, oh my god oh my god oh my god running on repeat in his head. "Sorry. What?"

Jeff didn't seem bothered by Jared's inability to keep up. "They want to release it as soon as possible," Jeff said again. "They were thinking maybe mid-October."

"I don't believe it," Jared said. "I fucking don't believe it."

Jeff laughed, a warm, throaty sound in his ear. "Come on, son," he said. "We're all crowded into O'Malley's, you know, that Irish place? We're going to get shitfaced."

Jared debated for a long moment, peering absently out the window at the setting sun. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll come. Give me half an hour."

He was there in twenty minutes. The pub was packed with revellers, most he recognised and all from the film. Chad met him at the door, beer in hand, and led him over to where Mike and Tom were sprawled across the bar. Jensen hovered nearby, flanked by Chris and Steve and looking uncomfortable. Duke was nowhere in sight.

Jared accepted the beer Mike handed him and said, too quietly for Jensen to hear, "Where's Duke?"

"Oh, he had some meeting with the Fox Searchlight guys," Mike said, waving his bottle in dismissal. "You did hear about that, right? Oh my god. I am getting so drunk."

"It's the best thing that's ever happened to me," said Tom, curled up in his barstool. His eyes were wet. "I'm going to be a world-famous fucking director."

"Don't cry, man," Jared said, patting his head. He downed his own beer-and the next, and the one after that, until there was a pleasant buzzing in his head and he was no longer fixated on the way Jensen was standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar and looking gorgeous as always. He was deep in conversation with Chris, his voice hushed so Jared couldn't hear, but Jared definitely wasn't fixating on him, so he didn't care.

"C'mon, Jay-bird," Chad slurred beside him, and Jared remembered that Chad had been bugging him about something. "For me. Do it for me."

"Do what for you?"

Chad pointed at the stage, where Mike was currently (badly) belting out Marvin Gaye's Let's Get it On. Tom was standing starry-eyed at his feet. "You're so deaf," Chad complained.

"No," Jared said, and threw back a shot this time. "I just don't listen to you."

"Ignoring that," Chad said loudly. "You promised me karaoke. Get the fuck up there."

Jared didn't remember promising anything, but he never went back on shit like that, so he ambled towards the stage as Mike's act came to a close. Mike jumped down into Tom's arms and Jared set up his song. A few seconds later, Bon Jovi began blaring through the speakers and Jared levelled a stare at Jensen and began to sing.

“Shot through the heart,
And you're to blame.
Darling, you give love
A bad name.”

He took great pleasure in the way Jensen's face went slack with shock and sang even louder. The fact that he couldn't hold a tune to save his life didn't deter him at all, and the generous crowd gave him a raucous round of applause as the song ended. In the shadows of the bar, Jensen's face was tight with some emotion Jared couldn't read. Chad was waiting at the foot of the stage.

"Speak to us, oh beautiful one," he said, waving his arms so vehemently that some of his beer sloshed down his front. "Tell us how you make that glorious sound that even now in anticipation of it has reduced me to a snarling, raging, panting jungle beast!"

"You gotta be sincere," Jared deadpanned, stepping down. "Now get up there, stud."

Chad was too drunk to protest, instead shimmying his way onstage and breaking into Honestly Sincere. Jared laughed and tripped across the room to the bar, where Mike and Tom were deep in conversation with Chris and Steve, which left Jensen alone by the bar. In a sudden burst of courage, Jared switched paths and headed straight for him. Though Jensen tried to keep his face impassive, Jared caught the tiny of spark of fear that crossed it.

"Jensen," he said, pointing at him with his bottle. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Jared knew what a bad idea this was, but it didn't matter.

Jensen fiddled with his beer and stared at the floor. He looked like he was debating whether to stay or go, but finally he pushed off the bar and brushed past Jared with a quiet, "Excuse me."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Jared said, catching Jensen's shoulder and spinning him around. "No, no, no." He heard his voice rise but did nothing to stop it, not caring that people were turning to look at them. Even Chad's singing had died down at the shout, and he squinted into the gloom beyond the stage in confusion. In front of Jared, Jensen was pink with embarrassment, scuffing the toe of one stupidly shiny black shoe into the hardwood flooring.

"Jared," Jensen said softly. "Please. Don't make a scene."

"I'll make a scene if I fucking want to!" Jared said (or more like slurred, but that wasn't very dignified). He took a step forward, lost his balance, and would've fallen into Jensen's arms if he hadn't caught himself on the wall. "I saw you, you know. Saw you looking. You want me. You do. You were lying before."

Jensen face quickly went from pink to a deep maroon. "No," he said, backing up. "For the love of god, man, just shut up."

"Don't think I didn't see you," Jared insisted. "You thought I didn't see you, didn't you?" And maybe it was a bit redundant, but he didn't care. He took another step towards Jensen, unsure of whether to be pleased with the way Jensen backed up again or not, and stopped short as his stomach turned over rather violently. Swaying, Jared bent to the side, clapping a hand over his mouth and letting out a rather unattractive groan. Somehow, that stopped Jensen in his tracks and he stepped closer, holding out a hand like he wasn't sure whether to touch Jared or not.

"Jared, are you-?" he said, the first considerate thing he'd done all evening, and that was his mistake, because Jared looked up at him, at his beautiful, startled face, and promptly vomited all over his shoes.

-
"Oh god, I puked on him. Now there's no doubt that he hates me." Jared buried his head in his hands and resisted the urge to bash his face against the wall. "I thought-I thought there might have been something, you know? When I saw him looking at me during the screening, I…"

Sophia gave his back a gentle rub. "Don't lose hope, sweetie," she said.

"This is stupid," Jared muttered, looking back up at Weird Science. Anthony Michael Hall had always been his favourite. "This is so stupid."

"What is?"

Jared sucked in a deep breath and gesticulated meaninglessly. "Everything," he grumbled, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to hurt, smearing the tears away. "Me."

"Jare-bear!" Chad shouted, bursting into the apartment. He, miraculously, had woken up hangover-free that morning, and Jared, who hadn't been so lucky, desperately flapped a hand in the air to get him to quiet the fuck down. "Sorry," Chad said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I have terrible news, dude." He pointed frantically at the door. "Your parents are here-they were at O'Malley's last night-"

"What?" Jared shrieked. His head pulsed with pain and he felt like he wanted to throw up again, for more than one reason. "They were not-I didn't see them there-"

Before he could say another word, his mother and father appeared in the open doorway. "JT," Gerry said, not sounding happy at all. "We need to talk to you."

Sherri elbowed him before he could get another word out. "In a minute, Gerry," she said, voice hard as steel. She turned to survey the apartment. "Is this where you live, baby?"

Despite the endearment, her tone was clipped, professional. Jared sort of wanted to go throw himself off a cliff, but instead he just nodded.

"It's a shithole," grunted Gerry.

"Language!" scolded Sherri, in place of Chad's offended protest.

Jared took a deep breath and gently removed Sophia's hands from his shoulders. You better clear out, he mouthed at her. She bit her lip but nodded, shooting a look at Jared's parents before taking Chad by the arm. It was only then that they seemed to notice her; Sherri immediately started forward, hand extended.

"Sherri Padalecki," she said, firmly clasping Sophia's hand. "You live here too?"

Sophia nodded and carefully pulled out of Sherri's death-grip. "Yes, ma'am," she said. "I'm Sophia-Chad's girlfriend."

"Ah," Sherri said, as if the fact that Sophia wasn't available made her totally uninteresting. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask for a moment alone with my son." She turned her narrowed eyes on Chad. "And that means you too, Chad."

Chad balked, holding up two hands in surrender. "Of course, Mrs. P," he said. "It's nice to see you too. Harley and Sadie doing all right without me?"

She gave him a polite, frozen smile. "They're doing just fine," she said, sitting down on the couch beside Jared. "Excuse us."

Though Jared appreciated Chad's stalling, he knew when a fight was hopeless. "I'll see you in a minute," he said drearily, and Sophia tugged Chad out the door. The moment it closed behind them Sherri reached out and took his hand in her smaller one. She didn't say anything for a long moment, giving Gerry time to sit down opposite.

"We went out for a drink last night," Sherri started carefully. "We hadn't been able to get in touch with you all day, like we wanted. We were hoping you could show us the sights. But since you wouldn't answer your phone and we weren't sure where you lived-"

She was laying the guilt on thick, so Jared jumped at the chance to interrupt. "How'd you find out?" He winced at how rude it sounded, then tried and failed to hide his surprise when neither parent reprimanded him for it. That meant things were bad.

"Got it out of Megan," Gerry said grimly. "Don't change the subject."

Jared quieted, and Sherri continued, "We found a place called O'Malley's, and I think you know the rest, JT."

Jared stared down at his hands. Unfortunately, along with the hangover, he'd been left with a perfect memory of what had happened the night before, from his stupid, redundant rambling to, of course, vomiting all over Jensen's shoes. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what his parents were talking about, but playing dumb couldn't hurt. "I'm not sure I do," he said carefully, not looking up.

"Jared!" said Gerry sharply, and it really was bad, because his dad only called him Jared when he was really serious. "What we saw last night-I never want to see it again. Do you understand me?"

Jared's head snapped up, anger boiling over. "You didn't see anything!" he snarled. When Gerry opened his mouth to protest, Jared was already talking over him. "Okay, dad, tell me what you saw. Go on, spit it out."

Gerry's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. The tips of his ears were bright red. He didn't say a word.

"Well?" Jared demanded. Both his parents were silent and Jared shot to his feet, whirling away from them with his hands pressed to his eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn't how I wanted you to find out." He let out a strangled laugh, half-manic. "Actually, I never wanted you to find out. Jesus fuck."

"Language!" Sherri said again, quieter, just as Gerry said, "Tell us what, son?"

It was a test; maybe even a way out. Jared could say, 'Nothing, dad. I'm completely heterosexual. I like boobies,' and it would all be forgotten. But he couldn't, not now.

"I'm gay," he spat out, spinning back around. They blinked at him, open-mouthed. "What, you don't understand? I'm a homo. A queer, a queen, a faggot. I like dick, and what you saw last night was me telling my ex-boyfriend just how not over him I am. Do you get it now?"

Before he could see their reaction, Jared turned tail and ran. He booked it, right out the front door and into open air. Chad and Sophia were leaning against the banister of the stairway down the hall; he nearly tripped over Chad's legs in his hurry to get away.

"Whoa, dude," Chad said, catching his arm. "Your parents-"

"I came out," Jared said in a rush. "Officially not hiding anymore." He swallowed a bitter laugh and shook his head. "I'm not planning on sticking around to see how they take it." He started off down the stairs again, but turned around when Sophia called his name.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Satine," Jared said, because fuck, what he told his parents was true; there wasn’t an inch of him that was even a little over Jensen, and he wanted to make sure Jensen was aware of that, now that Jared wasn't drunk and hell-bent ruining his clothes. He knew that he should've been angry, should've not wanted anything to do with Jensen, but Jared couldn't force himself to feel that way no matter how hard he tried. There was something inside him-part desperate want that had nothing to do with anger, but mostly just love that was going to waste.

And now he'd seen something, something important, in Jensen's eyes, even if he didn't know what it was. But he was going to find out.

He was at Satine in minutes. Jensen wasn't there, but Jeff was, talking animatedly into his mobile phone. When Jared paused in the open doorway of his office, Jeff looked up, shot him a sort of apologetic look, and gestured to the phone. Jared took the hint and got out of there, belatedly realising that Jeff might not have been the ideal person to talk to, anyway. Instead, he pulled out his own mobile and dialled Tom's number; it took two rings for him to pick up with a cheerful, "Hello!"

"Tom, hey, this is Jared."

"Tom? No, man, this is Mike."

Jared blinked. "Oh," he said. "Sorry. Didn't I dial Tom's number?"

"Yeah, well." Mike yawned. It echoed strangely through the line. "What do you need, J-dog? Anything I can help with or is this Tommy-exclusive?"

"You'll do," Jared said, pulling a poster for a local production of Oliver! off a nearby bulletin board and jamming the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he dug a pen from his pocket. "Do you know Jensen's address?"

"What do you need that for? Wait, I totally don't want to know. Are you guys back together? Man, I never thought I'd see the day when puking on someone meant they'd hop back into bed with you."

"We're not back together," Jared said, blowing out a breath of frustration. His yet went unsaid. "Do you have the address or what?"

"Yeah, okay, dude, hold your freakin' horses." Jared heard Mike shuffling around; there was silence for a long moment or two, and then Mike said, "Ah-ha! Okay, you got paper handy or something?"

As soon as the address was copied down, Jared was out of Satine and hailing down a cab. It turned out to be a massive waste of money, as Jensen's apartment was just around the corner but the cabbie insisted on driving him around the block for fifteen minutes; in the end, the rush of bitterness that filled Jared as he stepped out of the taxi was almost enough to make him wish he'd never left the house. It was only at that moment, staring up at Jensen's apartment building, that Jared realised he'd never been invited there before. Never once when they were together had Jensen said, "Why don't you come back to my place?" It had always been Jared, searching out those rare nights when both Chad and Sophia were out or suggesting they just stay in at Satine instead.

Jared pushed the hurt down, squared his jaw, and went inside. He definitely shouldn't have been surprised by how fancy it was, but it still caught him off guard. The people streaming in and out were done up in expensive-looking furs and jewels despite the warm September weather, and judging by the look the doorman gave him as he passed, Jared's ripped-up jeans and oversized sweatshirt weren't appreciated. Ignoring that, he squeezed between an older lady, obviously the victim of a lot of failed face-lifts, and a scared-looking young girl in a Spongebob shirt who he assumed was her granddaughter, and went straight to the elevator.

"Jenny's apartment is on the sixth floor," Mike had said. "Suite 172."

It wasn't hard to find. Suite 172 was the fourth door down from the elevator on the left, and Jared felt awkward and out of place as he rushed down the cream-coloured corridor. Even the door was fancy, with little inlaid ships adorning the bottom and a gilt knob. Jared took a deep breath and tried knocking.

There was no response, not even the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Jared had expected Jensen to at least peer through the peephole before deciding he wasn't worth letting in. "Jensen?" Jared tried, knocking louder. "Hello? Are you even home?"

Still nothing, and Jared gave up and reached for his phone. "Mike," he said desperately, once he heard that tell-tale click that meant somebody had picked up. He hoped it was Mike, at least. "There's no answer. I'm here, I'm knocking, but Jensen won't-"

"Chill, man," Mike said breezily. "You got your wallet with you?"

"What? Uh, yes."

"Okay," Mike said slowly, as if Jared was a class-A moron. "So take out a credit card and get it open, dumbass. Should give pretty easy. Tommy and I figured this out way back."

"Um, cool," Jared mumbled, reaching into his wallet for the nearest card. With his driver's license in hand, he eyed the walls for video cameras and, seeing none, got to it-and found that Mike was right. With the aid of some gentle jiggling, the door popped open with a quiet click. Jared shot one last look around the hallway and slipped inside, saying a grateful goodbye to Mike as he went.

All the lights were off and the shades were drawn, lending credence to the theory that Jensen wasn't home (or perhaps sleeping). Jared felt like a thief snooping around in the dark, so he flicked on as many lights as he could get his hands on and took a second to look around.

Jensen's apartment was-nice. At least, Jared thought that was the word for it. A better one might have been 'impersonal'. It didn't feel like Jensen at all-not to Jared anyway. As he glanced at the modern art on the walls and the hard, white furniture, Jared thought with a sinking feeling that maybe he hadn't known Jensen as well as he thought he had.

Jared sidestepped a pointy white armchair and called out into the gloom. "Jensen? You home?" He thought about adding, 'Sorry for breaking into your apartment,' but there was no reply and he went with, "The door was open," instead. No matter how improbable it was.

Jared stood there for what seemed like hours, fidgeting in the middle of Jensen's barren living room and feeling like a creepy asshole. Finally, he built up the courage to head down the hall, still calling out should Jensen suddenly wake up from his death-like sleep and want to stop Jared from barging into the room where he was slumbering naked on the bed. Jared worked hard to dismiss that thought and peeked into every room until he was quite sure that Jensen was not home. In fact, it looked like he might not have been home in weeks. The milk in his fridge was past its expiration date and all his bread was stale.

At a loss, he called Mike. "Fuck, I just broke into Jensen's apartment and he's not even home," Jared complained, in lieu of a hello. "Where the hell is he?"

"Jesus, you're really itching to jump his bones, huh?" said Mike. He chewed loudly and was silent for a moment. "Did you try Chris' place?"

"No," Jared sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've only been there once, when I was helping Tom scout for locations. You wouldn't happen to have his address too, would you?"

Mike proved himself to be a lifesaver yet again; as soon as Jared had the address copied down, he thanked Mike and got the hell out before hotel security could somehow bust him. Chris' apartment wasn't far. His building looked like Chad's, only smaller and without the dirt and peeling paint. Unluckily, they shared the broken elevator; Jared had to run up ten flights of stairs to get to the top floor, where he knew Chris lived with Steve in the loft right below the roof. A chipping sign hung on a single nail was hammered into the door; it was new to Jared and read, "CARLSON AND KANE," with "leave your troubles at the door unless you want some in here" hand-written underneath in smaller letters.

Jared took a deep breath and knocked. There was a long silence on the other side, so long that Jared started to think this was just another dead-end, and then the door was flung open. Chris blinked at him for a long moment, dressed only in a once-white wifebeater and striped boxers, and then he said, "Uh."

Jared carefully wedged his foot in the doorjamb, just in case Chris decided to try and close the door on him. Chris did no such thing, and Jared relaxed a fraction. "Is Jensen here?" he asked quietly.

Chris tossed a look behind him. With the good six inches Jared had on him, it was no trouble to see right over him; Steve and Jensen were on the couch. Steve, guitar in hand, was focussed on his strumming and hadn't looked up. Jensen, on the other hand, looked horrified and turned away as soon as Jared caught his eye.

Chris turned back around. "Jensen says if it's about the shoes, it doesn't matter," he said, even though Jensen hadn’t spoken. Jared had always been a little jealous of the way Jensen and Chris communicated, whether it was in silence or entirely in inside-jokes.

"Then it's not about the shoes," Jared said. "Please, can I come in?"

Chris tapped his foot on the floor, debated for a long moment, and then stepped aside. Jensen leapt up in protest, but Jared zoomed over the threshold before Chris could change his mind. He opened his mouth to say hey, or hopefully something cooler, but any and all words dried up in his mouth when he looked at Jensen properly. It was the first time Jared had seen him out of a suit, out of work clothes, since that awful night, and Jared had almost forgotten how good it looked on him. Plaid button down and ripped, faded jeans aside, Jensen's hair was sleep-mussed and his wire-rimmed reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. Jared bit down on the urge to just run up and kiss him stupid.

"Hey, Steve, let's go work on that song in my room," Chris suggested as the silence got a little heavy. Steve only grunted in response, so Chris heaved him up by one arm and dragged him off and Jared found himself, quite suddenly, alone with Jensen. He didn't know whether to be grateful or terrified.

Jensen seemed to have no idea what to say, but before he could get a clue and tell Jared to get the fuck out, Jared said, "I went to your apartment."

"What? Look, Jared, you really need to le-"

"No!" Jared said, and it was a little louder than he'd intended, because Jensen went very quiet, his eyes widening in shock. They were so green. Jared took a deep breath, calming down, and said, "Just listen to me, please. Just hear me out. Then I'll leave, I promise."

Jared saw the exact second where Jensen gave. His body slumped slightly, like all the breath in him had left his body in one great whoosh, and he pushed his glasses up distractedly and sat back down. "Five minutes," he said. "That's all."

Jared was happy with any time at all, and he raced over and plunked himself down beside Jensen. Too late, he wondered if that was a bit fast. His fears were confirmed by the way Jensen tensed, becoming still and stiff as stone. Jared swallowed an apology, opened his mouth, and just started talking.

"I went to your apartment," he said again. "To see if you were there. But you weren't, so."

Jensen dragged a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I've been staying with Chris and Steve," he said quietly, gesturing around him. It wasn't much, but it was more than Jared had been expecting.

Jared, who had been fully prepared to tell him about the whole sneaking-into-his-flat thing, decided against it at the last minute and switched tactics to what had been plaguing him earlier. "You never invited me back there, you know. To your apartment, I mean. I had to ask Mike for the address."

Jensen was silent for a long time, and when he spoke it was so quiet that Jared almost missed it. "I never took you there because I hate it," Jensen said, staring at his hands. "It's not me, it's not home. I let Jeff's big-shot interior designer have a ball and I just- there would have been no point in bringing you there."

Jared's heart leapt up into his throat. "So I wasn't wrong then," he said, swallowing hard when Jensen looked up at him in confusion. "About you still wanting me."

Jensen tensed up again, and Jared knew it had been the wrong thing to say. He desperately tried to backtrack, but Jensen was shaking his head. "Jared. Drop it," he said, a warning in his tone. "You asked me a question, I told you why. It doesn't mean shit."

Jared's heartbeat slowed to a dull, deafening thump in his chest. He looked resolutely at the ground. "I came out to my parents."

"You what? When?"

"Earlier," Jared said quietly. "I did it for you."

Jensen bit his lip, shook his head like that might make Jared's words untrue. "How'd they take it?"

Jared laughed before he could stop himself: one quick, sharp bark. It was more angry than anything else. "Not well," he said.

All of Jensen's attention seemed to be on his hands, knotted in his lap. He looked like he was trying to do a cat's cradle, but without the string. "What'd you say?" he asked, finally.

"I told them I wasn't over my ex-boyfriend. Among other things."

"Oh."

Jared cleared his throat. "In case you haven't gotten the hint, that's y-"

"I get it, thanks," Jensen said, a little too quickly. He stood up, brushed nonexistent lint from his pants, and said, "I think you should leave now."

Jared shot to his feet. "My five minutes aren't up!" he protested. When Jensen just shook his head and put a hand on Jared’s arm, steering him towards the door, Jared broke free and grabbed Jensen by the shoulders. "You said you'd hear me out!"

"I've heard you. I know where this is going."

Jared deflated a little bit. "Okay," he conceded. "Maybe you do. But please, just let me say it-please. Please." He loosened his hold, just enough that Jensen could shrug him off if he wanted, closed his eyes, and let his head drop forward. He waited a beat, to see if Jensen was going to push him away. When nothing happened and the sound of Jensen's ragged breathing was loud in his ears, Jared looked up. "Thank you," he said quietly, but didn't back away. They were nose-to-nose.

Jared unsuccessfully fought back a smile at the way Jensen was going slightly cross-eyed in an attempt to look at him. Jensen flushed indignantly and looked away, at the ceiling above Jared's head. Jared grinned outright and squeezed his shoulders a little. "See," he said. "I was right. Let's give this another try."

Jensen reached up and gently removed Jared's hands. "I don't get it," he said, sounding tired rather than angry. "Haven't you been listening at all? No, Jared."

"But why? And don't give me any of that 'because I don't love you' bullshit." Jared knew that maybe he was taking it a step too far, presuming too much, but his mouth wouldn't stop. "I can see right through you. I'm not giving up."

"Don't make me call the police." Jensen's tone was steely.

Jared stepped back, palms up in a show of surrender. "You can't keep this up forever," he said, ignoring the hint of desperation in his voice. Jensen just stared at him until Jared showed himself out, and it was only after he finally reached the ground floor that Jared allowed his shoulders to slump. Jensen's words were eating away at him, as disappointing as they were uplifting-because he hadn't said it, hadn't said I don't love you.

Jared was so caught up in this that he didn't notice the human blockade in front of him until he crashed into a hard chest and actually had to look up to meet the man's eyes. "Uh, sorry-" he said, laughing a little, and tried to step back. Two meaty hands caught him by the arms before he could, and Jared caught a flash of motion at the edge of his vision, a familiar suit, before another man crowded into his vision.

It went pretty fuzzy after that.

part six