J2 Fic. Wine Slips In My Mouth Sometimes - 1/2

[blueeyedliz]

Title: Wine Slips In My Mouth Sometimes - 1/2
Author: Blueeyedliz
Rating: NC/17
Word Count: 5,781 (this part)
Summary: The pressures of fame don’t seem to touch Jared. He’s always smiling, always at the centre of everything, the strong-one, the one Jensen leans on...the only problem is that Jared can’t cope. Not without a bottle of vodka or tequila or fuck, even wine to keep him from slipping under. No, Jared’s isn’t coping, not at all..
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys but Jared Padalecki's beautiful face certainly owns me.
A/N: This is a very belated birthday present for the ever lovely Magser. I’m so sorry it’s late, hon. Humongous thanks to Heatherofnight & Scarlettraven9 for their handholding & beta work and Amtamburo for the beautiful artwork.

Awesome fic soundtrack 'I Tried to Change But I Changed My Mind' can be found here.  Also the fic theme tune, 'Bliss' by Hinder is available here.  All music put together by the incomparable Matty_Parkman.

Wine Slips in My Mouth Sometimes - 1/2

~Part One~

The waiting room isn’t crowded. It’s stuffy like a Turkish sauna with the heat turned up way too high but it isn’t crowded and that is a definite Godsend. The last thing he wants right now is to be fighting over floor space so that he can actually have an available strip of linoleum to pace up and down on in this too warm, too claustrophobic room.

If truth be told though, it isn’t really the last thing he wants. The last thing he really wants is to walk out of this hospital alone.

Watching the slow tick tock tick of the second-hand moving on the white plastic wall clock isn’t doing his sanity any favors so he lets his eyes roam, taking in the small number of other people around him.

A young woman with the most horrendous blonde dye job is bouncing a colicky baby on her knee. There’s a grey-haired man working on a crossword with a chewed down pencil stub (from his view over the fella’s shoulder he’s almost positive the answer to ‘6 down’ is Bing Crosby).

Just across from the crossword man are two elderly ladies huddled together over plastic cups filled with coffee, they haven’t stopped gossiping-not even to come up for air-since taking their seats. He’d bet good money that the two old dears are sisters. The way they repeatedly mirror one another’s movements speaks volumes of years spent in each-other’s company.

Then there’s the young guy standing at the back of the room like a peculiar kind of ill-fitting floor lamp. The guy is clearly way too antsy to take a seat, his dark shadowed eyes are free from tears but only because his tears ran dry hours ago; now he’s just...empty.

Jensen stares at his reflection in the large mirror on the wall opposite him and doesn’t recognize himself. The guy staring back with washed-out pale skin, bed-head and rumpled clothes isn’t him. It can’t be him because Jensen is happy, he’s in love and he’s got a whole wonderful future with the man he loves to look forward to.

The guy in the mirror hasn’t been Jensen since a stern-faced doctor sat him down and told him his boyfriend might not make it through surgery. It isn’t him because Jensen doesn’t exist without Jared.

He refuses to exist without Jared.

~Four months earlier ~

Jensen leans back in his chair in the make-up trailer and stretches his arms out high above his head. He hears a ligament in his shoulder pop and grimaces at the uncomfortable ache of over-worked muscles which is fast becoming as regular an occurrence as mornings which start before the sun rises and end way after it sets.

When Eric had said they were pulling out all the stops for a kick-ass Season Four, he hadn’t been joking. Jensen doesn’t ever remember feeling this exhausted before. His entire body is one gigantic bruise and tonight the world has taken on a glossy finish, as though everything Jensen looks at is covered with a layer of plastic wrap. He just needs to sleep, a few days rest to get himself out of Dean’s head space and to let Jensen Ackles’ wants and needs take priority for awhile. Two more months of unrelenting filming and then it’s hiatus Miller time. The weird thing is, despite his tiredness, Jensen isn’t sure whether he’s all that happy about the thought of taking a break from ‘Supernatural’.

Jensen’s head pops up and his face breaks into a wide grin when he hears what could only be Jared’s voice hollering something unintelligible from outside of the trailer. He can’t even see his co-star yet but whenever Jared arrives on location there always seems to be some kind of noisy forewarning that Padalecki is in the area. Jared never fails to roll onto set riding a whirlwind of chaos and today is no exception.

Jensen scowls as a gummi bear bounces off his forehead two seconds before Jared plops himself down heavily in the chair next to him. "How are you not comatose?" Jensen asks genuinely surprised by Jared’s bright-eyed cheerful expression. "We drank Vancouver dry last night, I feel like shit warmed up."

"Last night was fun, man. We should do it more often."

"Oh no. No way am I ever attempting to match you shot for shot again. I swear to God if I were to go take a leak right now I’d be pissing one hundred percent pure tequila."

Jared guffaws loudly and slaps Jensen hard on the shoulder. Hard enough that Jensen would have toppled face-first out of his chair if Jared’s hand hadn’t stayed where it landed, fingertips digging into his skin. Jensen scowls again but it’s a half-assed effort and even Jared can tell Jensen’s laughing on the inside.

Jared relaxes back in his seat, his feet finding their way up to rest on the counter-top alongside all the piles of make-up, huge bags of cotton wool and hair care products. And Jensen stays perfectly still, not moving a muscle in the hope that Jared won’t move his hand away and break the contact, he breathes out slowly through his nose and swallows dryly. Jared doesn’t move away, instead he carries on talking ten to the dozen. All pointless nonsensical shit as per usual nevertheless Jensen listens carefully, even though half of his brain is focused on the warm tingling sensation giving him shivers in the exact spot where Jared’s fingers are resting.

Whenever Jared touches him, it feels to Jensen as though Jared’s hand is burning holes right through his clothes and branding his skin. Every single day that he sees Jared is a reminder that he loves the guy and the realization that he not only loves Jared but that he’s in love with Jared hits him like an ultra sonic shock-wave.

Jensen’s not afraid to be open about his sexuality, Jared knows that his co-star is gay and has done from the start when they first shared their deepest darkest secrets over large tankards of imported beer in a Vancouver bar...but Jared doesn’t know how Jensen feels about him.

Jensen wants to tell him, shit, he wants to plant a kiss on Jared’s lips and fuck him every which way he’s ever (wet) dreamed about but whereas Jensen has always been about guys, Jared has only ever been about girls. And that’s the kicker. The drop-shot kick straight to the nuts that Jensen lives with. All the time.

Every day on set is like Christmas day for Jensen, despite the long hours and grueling schedule because every day on set is another day with Jared. A long time ago Jensen made the decision that if he couldn’t have Jared he wasn’t going to beat himself up or torture himself over it. He goes on dates and has the time of his life working on a show he loves with a cast and crew he thinks of as family.

But Jensen knows his heart is winning over his head and he’s not anywhere near close to being over his infatuation with Jared because when it’s time to go home-when the set lights have been turned off and the last of the make-up has been wiped away- Jensen goes back to his apartment and Jared goes back to his house in the hills and Jensen couldn’t hate their separation with any more passion if he tried.

~0~

Jensen is stressing out about hiatus, he can’t wait to finish filming but not seeing Jared for a few weeks is always difficult and he has the added pressure of trying to find himself a new apartment seeing as the buddy he currently shares with wants to sell-up.

Jensen sits patiently flipping through the rental housing ads as Jayne fiddles with his hair, applying another dollop of gel into his carefully sculptured spikes. Jared’s munching on a handful of something which is lime green and sticky and definitely made up of nothing but sugar and additives which will have him bouncing around Tigger-style in no time. Jensen peers over the top of his newspaper and gives Jared a quick sideways glance as his co-star tosses another piece of candy into his mouth while humming happily to himself.

Jared is always so carefree Jensen thinks fondly, happy is the kid’s default setting. In fact, scratch that, goofball is his default setting. Happiness just seems to be an added bonus where Jared Padalecki is concerned.

He has his down days, jeez, everyone does from time to time but Sera Gamble once told Jensen that Jared’s dark moods are shorter than Danny Devito and Jensen knows from experience that she’s absolutely right.

Any building storm clouds are hurriedly chased away by his blinding dimpled smile. Whenever any of the cast or crew gets stressed with the tight shooting deadlines and days which run to sixteen hours long, Jared is the one to pull out all the stops in an effort to lighten their mood. From flicking people’s ears to setting up elaborate pranks to squashing anyone within grabbing distance into a huge bear-hug it’s always Jared who’s first with a quick smile which spreads and envelops those around him in a warming blanket of Padalecki goodness.

So it really shouldn’t have come as any surprise to Jensen that when Jared stops chomping his candy long enough to notice Jensen leafing through housing ad after housing ad while wearing a stern expression, the first thing Jared does is rip the paper out of Jensen’s hands and announce that Jensen should move in with him.

"No." Jensen says, shooting Jared down faster than a speeding bullet and instantly feeling like a total SOB when Jared’s large Texan grin wavers ever so slightly.

"Why the hell not, you’re practically my bitch already anyway?"

"Just....no. You’ll get sick of me and we’ll end up hating each-other’s guts and..."

"Jen, you think way too much. I already have to look at your obscenely pretty mug every day anyway….and how do you know I’m not already sick of you, Ackles?"

"Jay..."

"Come on, it’ll be awesome. It can be the Frat house we never had. Anyway, my hacienda is way too big for just me and the dogs."

Jen rubs at his eyes. Shit, he’s playing the Sandy card. Jared split from his long-time girlfriend and short-term fiancée a few months ago and has made it pretty damn clear to anyone who will listen that he hates going back to an empty house, well, empty of human company anyway. Jared simply loves people and seeing as Jensen simply loves Jared it’s a fucking terrible idea.

"No, man. Thanks but I need to find a place of my own."

Jared’s bottom lip protrudes, albeit briefly but he looks so all out disappointed for a split second that Jensen seriously contemplates eating his own head when he blurts out. "Okay. I take it back, you’re on but you'd better be a damn good landlord."

In the end, the smile Jared graces him with almost makes Jensen glad he said yes.

~0~

The party had been Jared’s idea, a huge cast and crew hoopla to celebrate getting Season Five confirmed by their network and as a belated moving-in bash for Jensen.

The party has only been underway for around an hour and already the place looks like a bomb has been dropped on it and nuked all the furniture with crumbs and spilled beer stains. Jensen has been doing his best to mingle and play host even though he has no fucking clue where Jared keeps all the wine glasses.

When he finally tracks his co-star down to ask, Jared’s sprawled on the couch with a forgotten Wii controller at his feet. He’s clearly smashed, leaning heavily on Jim Beaver’s shoulder and sooner or later Jensen is going to have to swoop in and rescue Jim because he likes the guy and doesn’t want to see him get squished to death by six foot four of drunken Padalecki.

"Come on, big guy. Time to say beddy byes." Jensen wraps a firm hand around Jared’s bicep, which is getting a harder and harder thing to achieve these days with the sheer amount of muscle Jared has packed on of late.

Jared’s eyes are red-rimmed, practically rolling in their sockets and as he lets Jensen haul him to his feet a small hip flask slips from between his long thin fingers. Jensen bends down to retrieve it and surreptitiously sniffs at the open top. "Jeez, man we’ve got like two dozen kegs of beer in the kitchen and you’re drinking straight whisky?"

"M’fine, just wanted to get wasted." Jared slurs, heavy-lidded eyes watching as Jensen slings his boneless arm across his shoulder. Jensen’s other arm curls around Jared’s waist and Jared manages to give a small parting wave to a bemused looking Jim as Jensen carefully starts guiding him out of the room and towards the stairs.

"This is meant to be your party, you could have saved getting wasted till later. Like after all your guests have gone home." Jensen grunts as he struggles to stop Jared’s swaying by gripping the banister. When they finally reach the top of the stairs, Jensen hauls his friend across the small landing and kicks the door to Jared’s bedroom open with one foot. He pushes into the room, depositing Jared on the end of his unmade king-sized bed.

Jared sits there silently for a moment before falling back onto his mattress with a low groan, feet still planted on the floor.

"You’re mad at me. I hate it where you get mad at me." Jared says softly and the tone of his voice- young and vulnerable-makes Jensen feel all kinds of crap.

"I’m not mad, okay? I’m worried about you, Jare. You’ve been getting drunk every time we go out and....tonight. I-I don’t like seeing you messed up all the time. What’s going on with you because if this is about Sandy, you know you can talk to me, right?"

Jensen stops talking and glances down at Jared and just as he expected, Jared’s already passed out and mid-lecture too the crafty little fucker. Slumped across his bed like a giant rag doll, all disheveled with his unruly brown hair sticking up every which way and the unmistakable odour of sour mash whisky cutting through his expensive cologne. And yet, Jensen thinks, Jared’s still breath-takingly beautiful to look at.

His sharp features are lax, softened in sleep. Intelligent tip-tilted hazel eyes closed to the world and Jensen scrubs at his stubbled jaw, grips the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighs heavily. The sight of Jared inebriated and out cold yet again is antagonizing and Jensen wants to be mad, wants to stomp out of the room and slam the door closed behind him but he can’t convince his feet to move and he can’t stop himself from staring at his unconscious best friend either.

Jared’s lips are slightly parted, enough for Jensen to get a good clear view of dazzling white teeth and soft pink tongue. He wants to lean over and kiss Jared’s warm moist mouth so badly it’s painful to breathe, a tight ache in Jensen’s chest which squeezes all the air out of his lungs whenever he sees Jared and especially whenever he sees Jared so unguarded like this.

His co-star is built like Michelangelo’s David, perfect in Jensen’s eyes. "Jesus, Jare. If you only knew what you do to me...." Jensen crouches down but instead of kissing Jared’s lips like he wants to, he starts untying the knotted laces on Jared’s sneakers. "...you’d run for the hills and I’d never see you again." Jensen finishes, tugging the sneakers away from Jared’s large socked feet.

Jensen hovers uncertainly. He could strip off Jared’s pants to try and make the kid more comfortable but he knows the only thing that would achieve would be for him to end up sporting a hard on big enough to pole vault with so instead Jensen fetches one of the quilted blue throws from Jared’s walk-in closet. He lifts Jared’s legs so that he’s lying more fully across the width of his bed and covers him with the blanket.

He takes one last look, leaning right over Jared’s sprawled frame and scrunches his nose as a thin trail of drool dribbles out of the corner of Jared’s mouth. Jensen rolls his eyes. "Gorgeous," he grins and he’s only being half sarcastic. "If you choke on your own vomit I’ll be very fucking pissed off with you in the morning, Jare."

As Jensen slips out of the room, the pulsing music coming from downstairs reminds him that he’s meant to be at a party but Christ, he could really do with a cold shower right about now.

~0~

The next morning finds Jared practically married to the overly expensive sleek black espresso machine he has on display in the kitchen. He’s on his forth cup when Jensen wanders into the kitchen.

Jared watches smiling as Jensen’s bleary-eyed stagger almost sends him stumbling into the kitchen doorframe. Jensen’s just woken up and has that cute bed-head thing going on which totally works for him but looks ridiculously hilarious on every other person on the planet.

Jared chews on the edge of a hangnail. Cute? Cute and Jensen are two words which don’t normally go together in his head but just lately, whenever he’s in close proximity to Jensen, his stomach won’t stop performing somersaults. For all of his goofing around behaviour, Jared’s far from stupid. He knows exactly what stomach somersaults mean and if he’s being honest with himself, this newfound attraction to his fellow actor and friend is downright terrifying considering he’s only every felt this way about women before. Jared’s stomach somersaults used to be solely reserved for Sandy and in particular, Sandy’s collection of Victoria Secret lingerie, not Jensen freakin’ Ackles.

Worse for Jared is that his Jensen-inspired sexual epiphany is getting more and more difficult for him to ignore. The fallout from his break-up with Sandy is still painful and these unexpected feelings for Jensen have got to be his messed up brain’s idea of a suitable rebound candidate. Probably because they have so much in common and have practically been conjoined twins since Supernatural came into their lives.

It can’t possibly mean what Jared fears it might, because when he used to think about his future he always saw himself settling down with a wife, 2.4 kids and enough dogs to run his own personal sledding team. The whole white-picket fence enchilada. But now all he sees when he closes his eyes and dreams about the future is Jensen’s face and Jared has never felt this confused and uncertain over anything before.

"Good party last night." Jared states as Jensen approaches and when Jensen’s eyes zero in on the coffee, Jared pours him out a cup without being asked. Jensen drains it in one mouthful and as he licks at the droplets clinging to his bottom lip, Jared hurriedly turns around and peers into the open refrigerator scouring the contents for some juice. He’s not thirsty, not in the slightest. With his back to Jensen he puts a hand to his crotch and tries to force down the hard press of his suddenly stimulated dick against the zipper of his pants. Shit.

"Like you’d know. You were passed out and drooling even before all of your guests had arrived."

Jared looks at Jensen, open carton of Tropicana in one hand. He worries his bottom lip and for a moment Jensen thinks he’s going to apologize, instead Jared takes a sip of the juice-straight from the carton too, even though not much can piss Jensen off more than poor food hygiene-scratches his arm nonchalantly and mumbles, "I reek, I’m gonna take a shower. Cliff will be here with our ride before seven." He deposits the carton back in the refrigerator and hastily disappears upstairs; ignoring Jensen’s pointed glare every step of the way.

The shower is short, the water cold and Jensen’s name sits uneasily on his lips as Jared jerks off alone and utterly miserable.

~0~

Late on Saturday night Mike calls Jensen and he’s as jovial as ever. Jensen tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and heads out of the living room before the noise of his conversation wakes Jared who’s asleep on the couch. Jared’s wearing his slob-around-the-house comfort clothes, light grey sweats which sit loose and low on his hips and a frayed black pullover. His feet are bare and tucked underneath a cushion to keep warm because the first thing Jared does when he gets in the house is kick off his shoes. Jensen opens the French doors which lead out onto the small patio area overlooking the back yard and steps outside.

Jensen likes Mike but he was expecting this call and in some ways, he was still hoping it wouldn’t come. Jensen scrapes at a loose chip of paint on the doorframe with his fingernails, stalling while he listens to the sound of Mike’s steady breathing. Mike breaks first. "So, you guys in or not?"

Jared watches several slivers of white paint flutter to the ground like snowflakes. "You really need us there tomorrow night?"

"Hell yes, tomorrow night’s poker night. We need you to make up our numbers, you know that. What’s going on with you guys? You never want to hang out anymore. Are you turning into an old married couple now you’ve shacked up together?"

Jensen swallows back his agitation at the remark which cuts a little too close to the grain even though he knows Mike’s unaware of Jensen’s true feelings towards his friend and co-star. "We’ll be there." Jensen says after a beat.

Mike doesn’t question why Jensen answers for Jared. They were finishing each-other’s sentences within a couple of months of first meeting and if Jensen says Jared wants to go then Jared wants to go. "Awesome. Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!" Mike yells and Jensen yanks the phone away from his ear so fast he almost drops it.

Jensen hangs up shaking his head and feeling like he’s just made a very big mistake.

~0~

Jared’s sitting at the breakfast bar in Mike’s kitchen, propping it up by all appearances and when Jensen takes a seat, Jared pushes the half empty bottle of Scotch across the counter-top towards him. "You’re drunk." Jensen says and Jared simply gives him a self-conscious wobbly grin because even tanked up, Jared knows that wasn’t a question.

Jensen’s furious and yet he doesn’t know why he does it, apart from a sudden surge of protectiveness towards Jared as though he really does think he’s Dean Winchester, but he reaches over and picks up the Scotch bottle, moving it out of Jared’s reach.

Jared’s shot glass is empty in front of him and he blinks heavily, trying to focus on Jensen with annoyed hazel eyes. "What the hell, Jen? Give it back."

"No. Don’t you think you’ve had enough or are you going to keep drinking until you pass out again?"

"You’re not my dad." Jared grunts before leaning close to Jensen’s face. "And you’re not my brother, either." Jared doesn’t move away. He stays lent forward, teetering on the edge of his stool, with his face shoved right in Jensen’s space. His breath smells sugary like candy or sweet cherry brandy and Jensen can feel the warmth radiating off of Jared’s skin. It makes Jensen instantaneously sweaty and tongue-tied. Jared’s eyes narrow as he watches blush creep across Jensen’s cheeks like sunburn. "Why are you being like this? Is it because you want me?"

Jensen’s body goes from sweating to cold in a lightening flash. Cold, as in taking a dip in the Hudson in the middle of December cold. "Wh-what?"

"You want me, Jen. You want me but you think you can’t have me and that’s why you’re being cruel." Jared’s tilts his head, eyebrows raised, challenging Jensen to disagree with him and all Jensen can do is stare, shards of his heart breaking away piece by piece.

"Shut the fuck up. You’re drunk." Jensen says putting his palm against Jared’s broad chest and shoving hard enough to cause the younger man to topple back off his stool.

Jared tumbles in an almost comical tangled knot of flailing long limbs and Jensen watches in painful slow-mo as the back of Jared’s head catches the corner of the breakfast bar with a sickening crack. "Shit. Oh Shit. You okay?" Jensen jumps up from his own seat and crouches down, swallowing back the nausea climbing up his throat when he reaches out and Jared jerks away from him.

Jared rubs the back of his head, closes his eyes and then opens them again. He’s still sitting there on the floor when he suddenly reaches up one hand and grips hold of Jensen’s t-shirt, pulling him closer. "You can have me, Jen."

Jensen gapes, he simply can’t help himself he’s that taken aback. His frantic fingers claw at Jared’s hand but Jared isn’t letting go.

"You can have me, Jen." Jared repeats, saying each word slow and careful. "I want you too."

And Jensen wants to believe it so badly he feels about ready to burst into tears. "You’re drunk." Jensen says again, accusingly because he’s not going to let himself believe it. Not when Jared is this wasted, not when he knows Jared isn’t even gay.

Not when Jensen Ackles doesn’t get to have what he really wants because life doesn’t play fair.

Mike appears out of nowhere, stumbling into the kitchen in search of more beer and double-takes when he sees both his friends huddled on the floor, Jensen looking horror-struck and Jared’s face all scrunched up in earnestness. "Are you guys still playing or what because Tommy is winning all the chips?" He slaps a hand on both their shoulders and his grin drops when he realizes how drunk Jared is. "You’re not going to puke on my Prada shoes are ya, Padalecki?"

Jensen overlooks his own momentary break-down to notice that Jared does look green around the gills, "I gotta...I gotta." Jared mumbles and Jensen falls into his place by Jared’s side, lifting him up off the sticky floor. "Jen?"

"Yeah, I’m here, man." Jensen mutters.

"Bathroom’s down the hall." Mike says, watching them disappearing out of the room. So much for poker night.

-0-

The shaking hands are easy enough to hide; Jared’s learned enough ways to disguise them. His large hands are always shoved in his jean’s pockets or wrapped tightly around a Starbucks or toying with a biro like some frustrated wannabe baton twirler.

The point is that his hands are kept busy. Occupied with items aimed to distract from the desperate need which is constantly tugging at him. Tugging him towards the nearest bar, bottle of wine, tequila or beer....and today it’s tugging him in the direction of his trailer and more to the point, to his emergency bottle of vodka which is stashed away there.

Jared doesn’t like to drink during the day. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the burn of alcohol down his throat which instantly relaxes his tense muscles until they are liquefied. He doesn’t like it for the simple reason that he doesn’t want to-can’t afford to-get sloppy on set. He can’t allow anyone to find out, to see, how pathetic he is and how getting through the day without using alcohol as a crutch is an impossible task for him now. That’s how low you’ve sunk, a voice inside Jared’s head tells him as he unlocks his trailer door and steps inside.

Filming has been harder than usual over the last few days. Not only because of what happened on Saturday night-and Jared was wasted but not wasted enough to not be able to remember his drunken confession to Jensen-but also because the scenes being filmed have been ones which put focus on Sam’s tormented mental state. On his ever increasing leanings towards using his powers and turning his back on his brother.

To Jensen’s credit, he hasn’t once mentioned what happened at Mike’s poker night. But Jared can still see it, the uncomfortable look in Jensen’s eyes whenever Jared’s around him. Jared gave himself to Jensen that night and Jensen didn’t want him, didn’t want a feckless drunkard loser and Jared can’t blame him but Jesus wept it fucking hurts.

Watching Jensen today, seeing him slip on the familiar leather jacket and transform into Dean. Watching the way Dean’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as Sam broods and yells and slams his way out of another motel room has left Jared feeling drained to the point of almost total depletion.

He has thirty minutes before a runner will be sent to fetch him back to set, once the existing lighting problems have been fixed, and Jared tips the vodka bottle to his lips with every good intention of only having a taste. Two long draws from the bottle later and he knows he can’t fool himself that there was ever any doubt about the real reason he’s hiding out in his trailer instead of rehearsing lines with Jensen. He’s here to get drunk, pure and simple.

He’s going to get drunk, anaesthetize his tired brain and in the process further fuck up the only good thing he has left, his career. With that realization comes the sting of self-hatred which hits him like a punch to the gut. The blow is strong enough to send him reeling and Jared goes the only way down he knows, headfirst into the bottle.

~0~

It’s the knocking at his trailer door that wakes Jared from a semi-conscious stupor. His lips feel huge and bee-stung numb, so frozen that he could sink his teeth into his bottom lip without experiencing one iota of pain. It takes several attempts to get the bottle to his mouth again and even then, a thin trickle of liquid escapes and trails a speedy getaway down his chin. He knows it’s there, the dribble of vodka running down his stubbled jaw but he doesn’t care enough to wipe it away. It doesn’t matter to him. Nothing can touch him when he feels like this. Nothing matters, not even Jensen Ackles.

He hears a key rattle in the lock at the door-no doubt the spare he gave to his PA-and when the door creaks open to reveal Jensen standing there, Jared groans and takes another swig from the bottle. Jensen crosses the room in two long strides and knocks the bottle clean out of his hand. It thuds onto the carpet and Jared watches impassively as clear liquid pools, soaking into the carpet and the canvas of his sneakers.

"What the fucking fuck are you doing?" Jensen is incensed, just about as angry as Jared has ever seen him. He slams his fist on the table in frustration and Jared flinches. It only serves to make Jensen madder; he twists his hands into the shirt which Jared is wearing, Sam Winchester’s shirt, and pulls Jared up to standing. Jared’s a big guy but he still hangs in Jensen’s grasp like a child being chastised.

"Jared." Jensen says in one long exhale and his voice sounds wreaked, like the soft wheeze from a broken accordion. "You have got to stop doing this. Kripke knows something’s going on with you man, anyone with eyes can see it and he will sling your ass off the show. Is that what you want? To lose everything you’ve worked so hard for?"

Jared’s eyes sting, he bends down to reach for the bottle which is still leaking vodka but Jensen kicks it away, hard. "Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare do this to me."

"To you?" Jared exclaims, battling feebly against Jensen’s hold. "Maybe I’m wrong here but the only one I’m doing this to is myself."

"Is that really what you think? You’ve got no idea. You’re a selfish son of a bitch." Jensen’s face is bright red with rage. His foot kicks out at the bottle again and it smashes against the wall, breaking in a spray of shattered glass.

"No! I need that. I need it, Jen." Jared drops to his hands and knees. He’s sobbing uncontrollably although he doesn’t remember when he started crying, only that he can’t stop, even when he feels strong arms wrap around him.

"I can’t stand to see you like this." Jensen runs a hand up Jared’s arm to squeeze his shoulder, a gesture he’s done a thousand times before but this time the meaning behind it is entirely different. "I love you, Jared." Jensen adds quietly. His words are as broken as the bottle of vodka, they brush against the shell of Jared’s ear so softly Jared almost thinks he imagined them.

"You love me?" Jared whispers, stopping his efforts to free himself and turning bewildered puffy eyes on Jensen.

"Have done for a long time, you goddamn idiot." Jensen shifts forward and kisses him. It’s a kiss he’s only ever let himself fantasize about before. His lips pressing against Jared’s. Jared’s eyes are wide open and staring, they hesitantly close and Jared starts to kiss him back. Ravenous nips at Jensen’s mouth until his lips part and Jared’s tongue slides its way inside, rolling in soft slow circles. Jensen finally moves away, his hand cupping Jared’s cheek. Jared’s eyes pop open and they both stand there, still and silent.

"I’ll get help, I’ll clean myself up." Jared eyes search Jensen’s face but he doesn’t know what he’s looking for. Forgiveness, compassion...love.

"I’ll help you. Whatever you need."

"You. I only need you."

And for awhile, Jensen actually lets himself believe it.

~TBC ~

Part Two.