Fic: In a Mirror Distorted and Indistinct. RPS. Jensen/Jared. NC-17 3/4

[felisblanco]

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Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Author’s notes | Soundtrack

Part 3

Late November Jared gets a zit on his chin and declares the world about to end. “Look at that thing, dude. I’m hideous,” he pouts and sags in the make-up chair.

“Welcome to the club,” Jensen deadpans and Jared laughs but when Jensen glances over in the mirror he finds Jared studying him thoughtfully. He itches to rub his nose to see if he’s got dirt there.

“What?”

Jared blinks but then the glint is back in his eyes. “You have a club just for ugly people?”

The words hit Jensen like a punch in the gut. “Shut up,” he says and looks away from the ghost of his fourteen year old self in the mirror. Not now. Not fucking now.

He’s been good for over a week now. Smoking helps. The pills help. Being exhausted and not having much time to eat does wonders. Spending pretty much his every waking moment with Jared… Let’s just say he hasn’t felt the need in an exceptionally long time.

Right now though, right now… His hands twitch as the bile rises in his throat.

“No really, you do? Huh.” Jared tilts his head, all serious. “So who’s in it besides you and Brad Pitt?”

Something suddenly snaps inside Jensen, and he swings around in his chair, anger and humiliation burning his cheeks. He glares at Jared who meets his eyes calmly, a soft smile playing upon his lips.

“You know what?” Jensen spits out and stands up. His eyes sting. “Why don’t you grow up, Jay? Huh? Why don’t you grow the fuck up?”

He’s out the door before Jared has time to respond, almost knocking Shannon over in the doorway. Coffee splashes from her cup and onto her t-shirt, leaving a big wet brown stain.

“Dammit, Jensen. Watch out!”

He mumbles some apology, grabs one of the muffins from the basket by the door and pushes past her, but she grabs his arm at the last moment. “Hey, where you going? You can’t leave. We haven’t…”

“I need to take a leak,” he hisses and wrenches his arm free, leaving her to stare after him. As soon as he rounds the corner he’s got the muffin stuffed into his mouth.

His trailer is cold from standing empty the whole weekend. He locks the door behind him and then goes straight to the small refrigerator. Fruit, cheese and… there, the Chinese Jared didn’t finish last Thursday. It tastes stale, dry rice and slimy beef, but it’s better than nothing. He finishes it all in under two minutes, back leaning against the cupboard, breath catching in his throat. He gulps in air, tears stinging his eyes, and then he’s stumbling to his feet and into the bathroom.

It burns his throat and brings the tears in his eyes fully forward as pain shoots through his stomach when it cramps up. He gasps for breath, fingers digging into his thighs.

God. Oh God. I wasn’t going to… I thought I could… I really thought. Such a fucking freak. Such a goddamn loser.

When he’s done he brushes his teeth and then stuffs his mouth full of mints, crushing them fervently between stiff jaws. They make the cool air in the trailer feel like ice when he breathes in. He shivers and that’s when he realizes he forgot his zipped hoodie in the make-up trailer.

Fuck.

His arms are covered in goose bumps, making the fine hairs stand up straight from his freckled skin, and he rubs them, trying to get the blood flowing. Blankly he sweeps his eyes over the trailer, looking for something else to put on, but there’s nothing. Just Jared’s beanie that he left there last Friday.

Jared…

Oh Jesus.

What the hell is wrong with him? He’d lost it. Just snapped like a goddamn psycho. Probably freaked poor Jared out. Even if he kinda deserved it for being such an asshole. Still, it was stupid. What does it matter, what Jared thinks of him, if he really thinks Jensen’s ugly? In fact it’s probably better, considering this stupid crush Jensen’s been unable to shake off despite all his efforts.

It’s just…

He never expected Jared to mock him like that. The guy can snark with the best but Jensen’s never known him to be cruel. Fuck it, he thought they were friends. It’s kind of ridiculous how much it hurts. He feels betrayed. Humiliated.

Rubbing his arms one last time he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the cold Vancouver morning, before opening the door.

Jared is leaning against the parallel trailer, hoodie clutched in his hands. He looks more serious than Jensen ever remembers seeing him and for a moment he contemplates stepping back and locking himself in his trailer again.

“You forgot this,” Jared says, before Jensen can make a move either way, and holds out the hoodie as he pushes himself off of the wall.

Jensen swallows and closes the door as he descends the steps, accepting the sweater with a nod. “Thanks.”

He pulls it on, zipping it all the way up. He has this stupid urge to pull the hood over his head and string it tight until only his nose pokes out. He doesn’t. Instead he stuffs his hands into the pockets and clears his throat, Dean’s boots nervously kicking up the gravel covering the parking lot. Jared might be the bastard here but Jensen can’t really tell him that, because fuck if he’s gonna admit to being that sensitive about his looks of all things.

“Look, about earlier,” he says. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just tired, man.”

He risks a glance at Jared and quickly looks away when angry eyes meet his. Damn. Fuck. Shit.

“You wanna take a swing?” He hates the way his voice shakes. “Go ahead, I won’t hold it against you.” He braves a smirk but it feels wooden and more like a grimace. “Just watch the face, okay? I think I’ve pissed Shannon off enough today.”

He pulls his hands free and braces himself for the punch but that still doesn’t keep him from flinching when Jared suddenly moves. But what he gets instead is an arm looping around his neck and then he’s being pulled into a hug. It’s so startling that he freezes, standing rigid as Jared wraps his arms around him and presses him into his broad chest.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” Jared mutters into his neck, his breath warm and damp. “Such a goddamn moron.”

Jensen blinks. “Uh… okay.” He tries to pull away but Jared just hugs him tighter. “Dude, come on. Jay?”

“You have no idea, do you? No idea at all.”

Okay, this is starting to get a little too weird, even for them. “I know I’m supposed to be in make-up, ‘putting my face on’,” he says warily. “That’s why they sent you, right?”

Jared sighs and shakes his head. “What happened to you, Jen? I just don’t get it.”

“Nothing happened to me,” Jensen says defensively. “What are you talking about?”

But Jared just shakes his head again and holds on tight and after a while Jensen gives up and just relaxes, allowing Jared to hug him. He even puts his arms awkwardly around Jared’s waist, swallowing when Jared starts rubbing his back in soothing circles with his right hand, the other coming up to stroke his neck. The knot in Jensen’s stomach starts loosening up, the tightness in his chest slowly relenting. The cheek that’s not pressed against Jared’s shoulder feels cold and itchy. He licks his lips and the taste of salt hits his tongue. Oh Jesus.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jared whispers into his ear. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Tell them what? That’s Jensen’s standing in the middle of the damn trailer lot, crying like a girl? That he doesn’t even know why? What? Tell them what?

Swallowing, he finally pushes Jared away and rubs the palm of his hand over his eyes. “I gotta… uh… They’re waiting.”

“Okay,” Jared says. “You alright?”

He means to say ‘Yeah, sure’ but what comes out is, “I don’t know.”

Jared nods, as if he understands perfectly well what Jensen’s saying and Jensen would really appreciate it if Jared shared his wisdom, because fuck if he’s got a clue what’s going on.

“Listen,” Jared says and lays a heavy hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “This whole week’s gonna be hell, man. Wish we could deal with this right now, I really do, but there’s no time and I don’t wanna fuck it up. Gotta do it properly. But you just say the word and I’ll go to Eric right now and tell him we need a couple of days off. Okay? If you want, Jen, I mean that.”

“No,” Jensen says, still wondering what the hell they’re talking about. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Jared bites his lips, his huge puppy eyes telling Jensen he doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Really, I am. And… And it’s better if we wait,” Jensen adds lamely, hoping he doesn’t look as confused as he feels. “Seriously.”

“Okay,” Jared finally agrees. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Really. Sure.” Jensen nods and tries for a smile. “Thanks, Jay.”

Jared smiles softly back and then Jensen is suddenly being pressed against Jared’s chest again, long arms wrapped around him. This time he doesn’t even try to fight it, just waits until Jared pulls away and pats him reassuringly on the shoulder.

“Anytime, dude. Anytime.” Jared smiles and then he’s turning on his heel, heading for wardrobe.

Jensen stands staring after him, heart hammering in his chest. What the hell just happened?

Slowly he starts walking towards the make-up trailer. No matter how off his game he’s feeling, Jared’s right; they ain’t got time for any of that now. He’s got some serious ass kissing to do, getting Shannon to forgive him, or the fans are going to see what he really looks like. He’s okay with covering the worst but that whole airbrush thing is way beyond his skills. Seriously, he’s got freckles in his ears! Fucking freak. He might have gotten away with it on Days and even Dark Angel but the pixel solution on TV these days is ridiculous. He can count his own pores for Christ’s sake! It’s gross, is what it is.

Plus, he likes the girls and hates the thought of them being mad at him. They never complain about the circles under his eyes or having to cover all the goddamn freckles, like so many other make-up girls he’s had to work with. In fact, they always manage to make him feel almost good about himself, with their light banter and easy laughs. Of course a big part of it is Jared’s infectious enthusiasm and easy manner but sometimes the girls will smile at Jensen like it’s all for him. It’s small things like that that makes him feel more at home at work than anywhere else.

Jensen thinks if shooting had gone on for another hour he might just have dropped down dead. He doesn’t remember ever being so tired in his whole life. Eight days of fourteen, fifteen, and tonight fucking eighteen hours of work, have him so exhausted he wants nothing more than to crash into bed and sleep until he has to be back on set early January.

He falls asleep in the car on the way home and Kate has to shake him awake when they reach his apartment building. Jared had been held back, something Kim wanted to talk over with him, and for once Jensen’s relieved. Jared’s been shooting him worried glances all week and frankly Jensen’s kinda sick of it. And feeling increasingly uncomfortable when he thinks about the ‘talk’ Jared wants to have. Talk about what?

Like with Mike and Tom he doesn’t even know where to start in finding out which secret he might have let slip.

That he’s a fucking faggot and, according to his family’s - and his own - beliefs, damned to Hell for it? That he’s a pathetic loser who can’t even control his own body? That he smokes and pops pills and drinks way too much? That he spends most of his alone time pigging out, only to throw it all up less than an hour later? That he’s twenty-seven and has never been in love with anyone that loved him back? That the reason he drinks so much coffee is that it’s the only thing that keeps him awake when he starts feeling weak from hunger? That most days he wouldn’t even get out of bed if it wasn’t for Jared calling him up, all smiles and laughter, telling him to get his ass to work or Eric’s gonna cast Chad motherfucking Murray as Dean? That now they’re going on Christmas hiatus he’s going to spend it alone, like he’s done every Christmas for the last six years, but the only reason he’s dreading it this time is because the thought of being away from Jared for so many weeks is killing him?

That every time he looks at Jared he wants to kiss him so badly he’s shaking?

The warm shower drains him of what little energy he has left but an hour later he’s still lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. There are too many thoughts swirling around in his head and twisting his stomach for sleep to come and claim him. Finally he gives up and fumbles for his glasses on the bedside table then gets up, pulling on a pair of boxers and throwing on a t-shirt.

His fridge is practically empty after last week’s hectic schedule. A couple of beers, some carrots and a yogurt that ran out two days ago. He drinks it right out of the container as he searches for the phone. Slim pickings at this time of night and he’s way too exhausted to risk driving to the all-night store. Instead he calls and orders two large pizzas, a bag of fries, breadsticks and the biggest bottle of Coke they’ve got.

“It’ll be there in thirty,” the no-doubt pimply teenager announces with a bored voice, then blows and pops his gum in Jensen’s ear.

“I’ll give you an extra twenty if you get it here in less than fifteen minutes,” Jensen bites back and snaps the phone shut. Thirty minutes! A guy could starve in less time!

He’s just finishing his first beer when the doorbell rings. Twelve minutes. Huh. He’s got to admit he’s impressed. He grabs his wallet from the kitchen table on his way to the door, and is pulling out the credit card as he opens the door, not bothering to look up.

“How much is it?”

“Depends on what you’re looking to buy,” says an amused voice and Jensen’s head snaps up. Shit. He can feel his face blushing deep red and he takes a step back. He’s standing there, practically naked for God’s sake, hair in all directions and he’s wearing his fucking glasses. In front of Jared!

“What the hell are you doing here, Jay?” he finally manages to croak out, fighting the urge to cover himself. “It’s the middle of the frigging night!”

Jared waves dismissively. “Actually it’s five o’clock in the morning but who’s counting?”

“I am!” Jensen snaps back. “And that still counts as night when we’re not working. I could have been asleep, dude!”

Jared’s grin is as bright as daylight. “You weren’t. I saw the lights on.”

Jensen stares at him. “What? Are you stalking me now?”

“Yep,” Jared says and pushes his way inside. “I’ve got binoculars and bad coffee in the car.” At Jensen’s startled look he shakes his head and laughs. “I’m kidding. Chill, man. Ooh, pizza!”

That last is directed at the delivery boy who just then is coming out of the elevator, looking slightly out of breath. “Fourteen minutes!” he exclaims between wheezes.

Jared looks puzzled but Jensen ignores him, pulling fifty dollars out of his wallet and handing them to the kid who is staring at them with a startled expression.

“Aren’t you…?” he starts and Jensen quickly grabs the pizza boxes and soda from his hands.

“Thanks. Keep the change,” he snaps and shuts the door in the kid’s face. Great. Now that will be all over the Internet tomorrow. ‘Supernatural or Unnatural? Read All About Jensen and Jared’s Gay Adventure!’

“Feeling hungry?” Jared inquires, rescuing the bag of breadsticks from flying over the edge of the pizza boxes as Jensen turns swiftly on his heel and stalks into the kitchen.

“Yeah. What of it?” he growls, slamming the boxes down on the kitchen table before flinging the top one open. It’s Deluxe, every topping available except anchovies. He might be a greedy pig but he’s still got taste.

“Nothing,” Jared answers, seeming unperturbed by Jensen’s grouchiness. “Mind if I have some?” he asks as if it’s not insane at all to assume that Jensen was planning on eating it all by himself.

Jensen doesn’t answer. He’s staring at the slice of pizza in his hand. The smell is already making him nauseous.

God. What is he doing? He can’t do this with Jared here! If he starts he can’t stop and then he’ll have to get rid of it and Jared will find out and…

He doesn’t even realize he’s hitching his breath until Jared puts a hand on his shoulder in alarm. “Hey man, you alright?”

He jerks awake, dropping the slice back in the box as if it’s a rattlesnake.

“I can’t… You need to go,” he says, backing slowly away. “Please go. Now.”

Jared blinks. “What?”

“Go. Please, Jared, please.”

Fuck. He’s trembling and Jared’s not leaving. In fact he’s coming closer, stepping in front of him and reaching out. Warm fingers touch Jensen’s chin and gently but determinedly tilt his head upwards.

“Jensen, look at me,” Jared says, all warm and soothing and God, Jensen wants this so much. Wants to lean into his touch and rest his weary head against that broad chest again. He wants… He just wants.

Jensen closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No. Please, Jay. Just go. Go.”

The grip on his chin tightens for a moment and then Jared’s cupping his cheek, thumb sliding gently over his closed eyelid. “No. I’m not going anywhere. Please, Jen,” he says and his thumb moves down to Jensen’s cheekbone. “Look at me.”

His brain says no but his eyes won’t listen. They flutter open and he hitches his breath when he finds Jared’s kind eyes gazing at him, sad and worried.

“Is this about what happened the other day?”

What did happen the other day? ‘What do you know that I don’t?’ Jensen thinks desperately.

“No. I don’t know. It’s just…” He can’t help it. His eyes flicker to the food covering most of his kitchen table. “I can’t…”

“You can’t…?” Jared follows Jensen’s nervous gaze. “Eat? You can’t eat?” He looks completely bewildered.

And then suddenly it’s like a light switches on and he backs away, fingers slipping away from Jensen’s face. It feels like rejection. Revulsion. Of course. Jensen’s head drops from its own weight, chin digging into his chest.

“You were going to eat all that. Alone.” It’s not a question.

Jensen feels sick, stomach twisting and bile rising in his throat. He wants to laugh it off, say, “Are you insane? I’m not you.” But the words don’t come and he just stares stupidly at his feet.

“Jen? Are you…?”

Jared stops and then he’s reaching out, wrapping his fingers around Jensen’s wrist, and pulling him along into the living room. There he sinks down on the couch, dragging Jensen with him until they’re sitting half turned toward each other, knees touching. It’s like every cheesy romantic moment Jensen has ever dreamed of and it’s all wrong and he’s screwed up everything. Everything!

“Talk to me, Jen,” Jared says, fingers running up Jensen’s back to rub at his neck. Jensen shivers and Jared rubs harder, like he’s the cure and not the fucking cause of it.

“Nothing to talk about,” Jensen mumbles. “I was just hungry.”

Jared shakes his head, eyes big and soft, like puddles of sadness. “Don’t lie to me, man. You do this? You just… eat? Like that? Why?”

Jensen snaps, panic making him lash out in anger. “You eat like a goddamn pig all the time, Jare,” he spits out.

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Jared answers, irritation creeping into his voice as well. “Goddamn salads and yogurts and whatever tasteless shit you can find.”

He retrieves his hand, leaving cooling fingerprints on Jensen’s neck as he sits back, shaking his head in frustration. “What is that, a front? You think people will respect you more if you pretend to be a health freak?”

“What? No!” Jensen stands up, hissing when Jared lays a hand on his arm to try and stop him. He wrenches free, almost hitting Jared in the process, and stalks to the window, staring out into the dusky early morning.

“You really think… You think I’m that shallow?” he finally asks, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

The glass window reflects Jared biting his lip hesitantly. “I don’t know. You keep making fun of the way I eat - ”

Jensen turns around, frowning. “I don’t…”

“-and then you come home and do the same thing yourself?” Jared waves his hands angrily for emphasis. “I don’t know what the hell to think, Jen. I mean, what’s the point in pretending you-”

“I don’t keep it, okay!” Jensen snaps. “I don’t…”

Oh fuck.

“What?” Jared stares at him, looking confused as hell.

Jensen closes his eyes, breathing in and then slowly out again. “Nothing,” he says as he opens his eyes, lips thin. “Forget it.”

“No, what do you mean you don’t keep…” Jared stills and then his mouth falls open in shock as his eyes widen almost comically. “No. Are you telling me…? Jen?”

Fuck. Fuck. Goddammit! “I’m kidding. Forget I said anything.”

“You… Jesus.” Jared puts a palm to his forehead and then runs it over his head, flattening his hair and pulling it back hard as he stares at Jensen in shock. His fingers dig into his skull, knuckles whitening, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. “Jesus fuck, Jen, what the hell are you doing?”

“Look, I can handle it, okay?” Jensen says hurriedly, desperately trying to minimize the damage. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not an amateur.”

“Amateur?” If anything that only seems to freak Jared out more. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re a professional vomiter? Jesus fucking Christ, Jen!”

“It’s not… Just forget it, okay?”

Jared’s breath hitches and he shakes his head in disbelief. “What? No. Nonono. Jensen…. How… How long you been doing this?”

Jensen swallows. “A while.”

“How long is a while?”

“Look, it’s no big deal…”

“How. Long. Is. A while?”

He shrugs, lips twitching nervously. “I don’t know. Ten years maybe.”

“Ten years!” Jared’s hand goes up to his mouth, covering it, like he’s feeling close to puking himself. “God! Why? Why would you do that?”

“I just do, okay?” Please don’t. Please. “Can we talk about something else?”

“No. Jen, that’s…” Jared shakes his head. “You need to get help. You need to stop.”

Shame and fear push him over the edge and he bristles. “You need to back the fuck off, Jared. It’s none of your business. It’s just something I do.”

“Something you do?” Jared stares at him. “Jensen, it’s… God, it’s a disorder. It’s bulimia, man. People fucking die from it!”

He tries to laugh but it sounds fake even to his own ears. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not a goddamn girl, Jared. I’m not bulimic. I just…”

“Throw up on a regular basis to keep your girlish figure?” Jared says, the sarcasm drowned out by the trembling in his voice.

“Christ!” Jensen turns away again, back so tense he feels like his spine might snap. “Why don’t you just leave, Jay? Can you please leave?”

“No,” Jared says stubbornly, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I want to know why. I need to know why!”

Jensen swivels around, incredulous. “Why? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jared just looks at him, confused and angry and Jensen has this sudden urge to punch him. Right in the face.

“You have no idea, Jay! No fucking idea! You show up at some goddamn award show and just like that you get roles handed to you on a plate. Like all you gotta do is smile and here you go, here’s the extra cookie.”

He starts pacing the room as Jared sits openmouthed and pale on the couch. “You ever had anyone tell you no? Ever had anyone turn you down because you weren’t fucking charming enough? Doesn’t matter if I can act or not, they just look at me and decide I can’t do it because… Because I’m a fuckup, Jare! Because I don’t know how to smile and talk and be whatever it is they want me to be.”

He stops and turns around, eyes stinging as he glares at Jared. “I try and I try and all they see is this,” he points at his face, “and this ain’t good enough!”

Jared blinks. “They told you that?” he finally says. “Who? Who told you that?”

“Everyone!” He’s pacing again, waving his hands for emphasis. “When I got back… I tried. A whole year I tried and it didn’t matter, none of it did!”

His voice is getting shrill. He’s losing control, turning hysterical like some goddamn woman but he can’t fucking stop. “They weren’t fooled. They saw what I was. Saw what I am. A goddamn fuckup! A goddamn fucking fuckup!”

“Wow, wow…” Jared straightens up, looking confused as hell. “Wait. Jen, slow down. Back from where?”

Jensen huffs in frustration. What the hell isn’t Jared getting? How hard can it be to understand?

“The hospital,” he spits out impatiently. “I had to spend a whole summer there when I was fourteen. A fucking car accident. It almost killed me. Fucking should have. God, I wish it had.”

“Jesus, Jen.” Jared’s voice shakes and his eyes briefly glitter. “Don’t say that! Why - why would you say something like that?”

“Because… because…” He flings out his arms, lips twisting with disgust. “Look at me!”

“I am. I am looking at you.” Jared stands up slowly, moving cautiously as if Jensen’s that damn mongrel from his childhood. “God, Jen, I look at you all the time. Ain’t nothing there worth dying over.”

He offers a small smile and Jensen’s anger flairs up again. “Don’t laugh at me!”

The smile vanishes, and Jared stares at him in confusion. “I’m not. Jensen, you’re the most beautiful man I know.”

“Don’t… Shut up!” He backs away as Jared takes a step forward, recoiling until he bumps into the kitchen table and there’s nowhere further to go. “Why are you…?” His voice breaks and he wants to scream. “Why do you keep mocking me?”

Jared stops and then he blinks and his breath hitches in realization. “Is that what you think? No.” He shakes his head. “God, no. Jensen, I’m not. I swear. I never have.”

He licks his lips nervously before his jaw clenches in determination and he takes one more step towards Jensen, bringing them so close Jensen can feel heat radiating from his skin like fire.

“I mean every word of it, Jen. Look at you?” Jared reaches out, fingers stroking Jensen’s cheek gently. “I am looking at you. I am looking and it’s beautiful.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. Stop it.”

Jared’s arms wrap around him and he tries to fight back, clenching his fists and hitting Jared as hard as he can. It’s like slapping a brick wall with mittens and as Jared’s hold tightens his feeble struggle weakens even further.

“Don’t touch me! I’m so… ugly. I’m… I’m.... They called me… They said…” His breath is hitching and he blinks to try and clear the fog in his eyes. “They said I was…I was… They said…”

“They were wrong. They were wrong, Jen. Sshh. C’mon, Jen. Breathe. C’mon.”

“I couldn’t fight them. I couldn’t! And I just kept getting fatter and fatter and…”

He’s rambling. Rambling and telling. God, he’s telling. Stop. Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!

“I didn’t know what else to do! There was nothing else I could do!”

“Sshh, it’s alright. Breathe, Jen, breathe.”

Why does Jared keep saying that? He is breathing. He is…

“Hey. You’re awake.”

Jensen blinks up at Jared who’s smiling down at him, hesitantly, as he puts away the magazine he’d obviously been flipping through.

“What happened?”

Jared shrugs. “You took a little nap, that’s all,” he says, the concern in his voice betraying his words.

“I passed out?” Jensen asks in surprise, feeling confused as hell.

Jared bites his lip and then gives him a lopsided grin. “If it makes you feel better than ‘fainted like a little girl’ then yes, that’s what you did.”

Huh? Jensen looks around, trying to get his bearings. He’s lying on the couch in his living room with a blanket thrown over him and Jared sitting on the sofa table, watching him. Everything is kind of a blur but when Jensen squints, trying to read the look on Jared’s face, Jared reaches behind him and then hands Jensen his glasses. Jensen can feel himself blushing as he puts them on. He’d forgotten he’d taken out his contacts. He’s not supposed to wear the glasses in public. His agent has told him that many times. Why the hell is he…?

Suddenly it all comes back to him and he can feel his face flush as his heart speeds up and his stomach tightens into a hard knot. Oh God. He told? He fucking told Jared of all people? What the hell is wrong with him?

He feels vulnerable, naked. Exposed. Paralyzed and awake on the operation table, open for all to see and pick apart. For a moment he contemplates just closing his eyes and faking falling asleep again but Jared’s unlikely to be nice enough to leave, stubborn bastard that he is.

Instead Jensen sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the couch. He feels dizzy and weak enough that he’s shivering but he can fake it, he’s sure. Some coffee and he’ll be fine. Really.

Jared watches him warily, one hand reaching out to rest on his knee as he makes to stand up. “Hey, easy there,” he says. “Maybe you shouldn’t…I mean, that was a panic attack, right? You have pills or something? Is there someone I should call?”

“No! I’m alright. I just… I need to…” Jensen gestures awkwardly with his hand. Fuck, he’s trembling noticeably now and sweat is running down his back, sticking the already damp t-shirt to his skin. “Use the bathroom,” he finishes lamely because ‘Go into the kitchen and slit my throat,’ doesn’t sound like something Jared would allow him to do.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jared stands up and offers Jensen his hand. He takes it after a brief hesitation and allows Jared to pull him to his feet. They’re standing close, so close that Jensen can feel Jared’s breath on his face and the warmth from his body through his thin t-shirt. The blanket slipped off when he got up and is lying half on the floor, half draped over the couch. Jensen shivers. Goosebumps cover his arms and legs, making the tiny hairs stand up straight and golden.

“You’re cold. Here.”

Jared’s out of his hoodie before Jensen has time to respond, draping it over his shoulders with such concern in his eyes that the protest dies on Jensen’s lips. He slips his arms into the too long sleeves and allows Jared to zip it up for him. It engulfs him in the warmth and smell of Jared, like a cocoon, and he can’t help shivering slightly.

There’s an awkward eternity where they stand still, close enough to share air, because Jensen is trapped between the couch, the sofa table and Jared, and he can’t get past without either asking Jared to move or pushing him aside. When Jared finally realizes he backs away with a cough, almost tripping over the table in the process.

“You want me to…” he asks, letting the question hang in the air and Jensen frowns.

“I can pee on my own,” he says, irritated that Jared seems to think he’s a total wimp. “Thank you.”

“I know that. I just…” Jared shrugs and ducks his head the way he does when he feels uncomfortable and worried. “If you start feeling dizzy…”

“You’ll hear the thud when I hit the floor,” Jensen says sarcastically and hates himself for it when Jared’s face falls. “Dude, seriously, I’m fine. I just need to pee.”

Jared nods, biting his lip and offering a grimace of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

“I could use some coffee though,” he suggests as a peace offering and to his relief Jared instantly perks up.

“I could get us breakfast. You want muffins?”

“That would be great,” Jensen answers and fakes a smile. “Blueberry, thanks.”

He hasn’t slept, unless he counts his little blackout, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting any sleep soon anyway. Not while Jared is there, no doubt waiting for them to continue their little ‘talk’. Just thinking about it has his stomach turning. At least he had the decency to keep the truth about his pathetic faggot crush all to himself. If Jared had found out about that…

His knees give in the minute he closes the door behind him and he sinks down to sit on the closed toilet, head dropping into his hands. Who the hell is he trying to fool? He’s so screwed. So fucking screwed. He never should have allowed Jared to get so close. Never! Now that he knows this, now that he’s figured this out… He ain’t gonna give up until Jensen spills it all. And he can’t! He fucking can’t!

Jared is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and now he’s about to throw it all away because he can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. He’s got to fix this. He’s got to fix this!

Thoughts and ideas swirl around in his head, words of denial forming and dissipating, his mind desperately trying to spin tales that might somehow save him from the disaster his life is about to become. Nothing works. He’s doomed. He’s lost the battle already and it hasn’t even started.

He can just see it, how it will be. The two of them trying to work together as if nothing has happened but every time Jensen gets too close Jared will back away and every time Jensen looks into Jared’s eyes he will be met with the look of disappointment and disgust he knows so well. He met it every day for four years across the kitchen table home in Texas so he should be used to it by now, but God, just the thought of Jared looking at him like that has him folding up on the cold porcelain seat, wishing he could just flush himself down along with the poisonous food in his belly.

“Jen, you alright?”

The knock on the door jerks him awake and he looks up with burning eyes, sweat running cold down his back. When he wipes his face with the heel of his hand he’s trembling so hard he almost pokes his eye out.

“Yeah. I’ll be right out,” he calls back, voice hoarse.

“You’re not…” Jared sounds hesitant. “I mean… you feeling alright?”

Jensen stands up slowly and throws a glance at the mirror. Fuck, not even Shannon could save him now. He looks like shit, pale and blotchy with sweat pooling at his temples and eyes rimmed blood red. Taking a deep breath, he unlocks the door and opens it, head bowed in defeat.

“I’m not puking my guts out if that’s what you’re asking,” he says flatly and pretends not to notice the way Jared flinches at his words. Or maybe his appearance. He doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter anyway.

“Jen…”

“I need coffee,” he says gruffly. “Can I just have some coffee?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

They walk back into the kitchen, Jared close on Jensen’s heels as if he’s waiting for him to collapse and Jensen’s just too damn tired to snap at him to back off. There’s no trace of the disastrous pizza party, instead there are two large coffee cups from the coffee shop next block standing on the kitchen table, along with four muffins and four donuts, neatly arranged on a platter next to a bunch of napkins.

Laughter suddenly bubbles inside Jensen’s chest and he has to force it down before it turns into full-blown hysteria. A small snort slips out though and Jared looks at him in alarm as if he thinks Jensen’s gonna start retching right there. Which only makes him want to laugh harder. Or possibly cry. He’s not sure.

“You okay?”

“’M fine,” he says and pulls out a kitchen chair. Jared doesn’t move away until Jensen’s securely sat down and he’d roll his eyes if he wasn’t feeling so close to the edge, he’s afraid if he takes his eyes off the cup in his hand for just one second, he might lose it.

Jared walks around the table and then stops, looking at the chair next to Jensen and then back at the one across and Jensen can practically see the wheels turning frantically in his head. If he sits across he can better read Jensen’s face but then he’s too far away if Jensen suddenly needs a hug or, you know, decides to faint like a girl again. It’s a dilemma and any other day Jensen would be extremely entertained watching Jared’s struggle.

Instead he focuses on the coffee. The heat from the cup is warming his hands, the smell tickles his nose and fills his lungs, and at the first sip the taste hits the back of his tongue like salvation as the caffeine starts infiltrating his bloodstream.

When he finally looks up Jared is sitting across the table, watching him. Jensen wants to look away but it’s like Jared’s eyes have tractor beams, making it impossible to break the contact. After a while Jared reaches for an apple n’ cinnamon muffin and bites into it, then chews slowly before swallowing, eyes never leaving Jensen’s.

“It’s good,” he says with fake cheerfulness and takes another bite. “You should try it.”

Jensen gives him a stiff smile and takes a blueberry muffin instead. He’s hungry, fucking starving actually, but he hesitates anyway. The urge from earlier is gone now though and he’s pretty sure he’ll be able to keep himself under control this time, so he takes a small bite, nibbling at the muffin like a damn squirrel. He can feel Jared watching him, probably making sure that he actually swallows and doesn’t spit it into his napkin or something equally ridiculous.

“So ten years, huh,” Jared suddenly says and Jensen freezes. He shrugs, the small piece of muffin dry and huge in his mouth. He takes a sip of coffee to help it down, aware that Jared is waiting for some sort of explanation or at least admittance that what he’s doing isn’t normal. Jensen doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Jared says eventually, “I’ll talk and you just nod if I’m right or something.”

He can’t even look up, just shrugs again and hopes Jared isn’t as observant as he seems to be.

“You were in a car accident when you were fourteen,” Jared starts, like he’s taking a goddamn interview for Oprah. “A bad one. And when you got back to school you were bullied by some assholes for… what? Limping?”

He nods, feeling oddly cold and detached. ‘Among other things,’ he almost says, because really, his limp was such a small part of it, but he bites his tongue at the last second.

“Are we talking… verbal bullying here or…?”

Now Jared’s the one unable to meet Jensen’s eyes. His right hand twitches on the table and then the fingers slowly curl into a fist. It’s a damn huge fist and Jensen suddenly imagines it soaring towards him, hitting him in the face, pummeling him into the ground while Jared growls into his ear, ‘Fucking faggot. Serves you right, you fucking cocksucking whore.’

“Jen?”

Jensen jerks awake and shakes his head, both in denial and to get rid off the images. Jared wouldn’t. Never.

“They beat you up?”

“Ye-” He clears his throat. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Badly?”

He shrugs again. “I guess.”

“More than once?” Jared asks cautiously.

“Every day.”

“Jesus.” Jared’s voice is muffled and when Jensen glances up Jared’s got one hand covering his mouth, eyes wide. “Just for having a limp?” he finally asks hoarsely.

Jensen swallows. “And being fat and ugly and-.” He cuts himself off abruptly. Shit.

“You put on weight while you were in the hospital?” Jared asks after a moment’s silence, his voice quiet.

“And… and after. Ate too much. All the time. Wasn’t much else to do.” He shrugs. “And then I couldn’t stop.”

Jared nods slowly. “Because eating made you feel better?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing made me feel better. Not eating. Or… or cutting.” Jared hitches his breath but Jensen doesn’t look up. “Nothing. It just… It just got worse. And then… then I started… you know. And it helped.”

“What about your family?”

He shakes his head again, more fervently this time. “They don’t know. No one knows.”

They sit in silence for a while. Jensen sips his coffee and waits for Jared to ask the question he knows will come. Because seriously, no straight guy would be this concerned about his looks that he’d throw up on a regular basis to “keep his girlish figure”, as Jared so delicately put it. Hell, Jensen’s not even sure gay guys do it. It’s all girls. Everyone knows that. So Jared’s gonna ask, any second now. And then what will he say? ‘Yes, but don’t worry, I’d never hit on you.’ Or ‘No, but would you mind not taking your shirt off too much in front of me?’ Doesn’t matter what he says, Jared will figure it out.

When Jared clears his throat Jensen steels himself for it. This is it. This is where everything they are and have will end.

“I do. Now, I mean. And I want to help.”

Jensen can’t help it. He starts laughing but it’s a harsh, almost desperate sound. “Jared, man, you have no idea what you’re saying. You can’t help. No one can. This is just me.” He finally looks up and meets Jared’s eyes. “This is what I am.”

“What? What are you, Jen?” Jared leans forward, gazing at him and despite his best efforts Jensen can’t look away. “Tell me, because I really want to know. What do you think you are?”

“Jare…”

“Please. Can you please just tell me?” Jared says softly. “I’m trying to understand this, I really am, but I just can’t see what it is you think you are, that is so horrible you deserve punishing yourself like this.”

“I’m not…”

“Tell me, Jensen, please.”

And there they are, the puppy eyes, gazing at him with all the powers they hold and Jensen just gives up.

“I’m… I’m not good enough,” he says, defeated. “I’m a screw-up. I… I’m fat. And ugly.” He closes his eyes. “I’m a fake. Nothing you see is real.”

“Like what?” Jared prods gently.

“I can’t see a damn thing without my glasses or contacts. I have freckles, like everywhere. It’s disgusting. I’m… It’s all an act, Jare. Smiling and talking and looking people in the eyes. It’s not me, it’s just a character I play. Because when I’m me… When I’m just me I can’t do any of those things.”

There’s silence for a long time and then Jared asks very quietly, “What about us?”

Jensen opens his eyes and looks up. Jared is staring at his hands, looking uncharacteristically unsure and vulnerable. “What?”

“Us. When you’re with me… Is that all an act? You don’t… We’re not really friends, that’s what you’re saying?”

Jensen freezes. “No! Jared…”

“Because I’d kinda noticed the other stuff. That you’re shy and don’t really like having to talk to people you don’t know but I kinda thought… You’re never like that with me and I thought that was because you trusted me, but now you’re saying it’s all just an act and I’m not blaming you, man, if it is. I get it, I just… I really thought we were friends and …”

“Jared, we are,” Jensen cuts in, desperate about where this could be going. “We are friends. It’s not an act. I swear. I…”

He stops because it’s not really true, is it? He’s always acting. Acting straight, acting uninterested, acting as if he isn’t so in love with the man, it’s killing him being so close and yet so far away there might as well be an ocean between them.

“I do trust you,” he says lamely. “I just…”

Jared nods but he doesn’t look convinced. “I thought that was an act. I mean, at first. Acting shy and awkward and ridiculously modest just so people would contradict you, would tell you how awesome you were. It was weird and kinda childish but I didn’t mind. Lots of people do that. But then I realized you weren’t, that you actually were shy and socially awkward, which made me wonder if you were being honest about the other stuff too. But that made no sense because… well, c’mon.”

He looks up, genuine bewilderment in his eyes. “You are so talented, Jen. You blow me away with every scene we do. I just… How can you ever doubt yourself? How is that even possible? And God, I meant what I said, Jensen, you are the most beautiful man I know. First time I saw you, I remember thinking ‘Jeez, the fangirls won’t even look at me with that guy in the room’.”

Jensen looks away, his cheeks burning. “Don’t.”

“Dude, no.” Jared shakes his head, lips tightening. “Stop it. I’m not joking, I’m not making fun of you. It’s the absolute truth.”

His eyes soften along with his voice and he smiles, almost wistfully. “You were reading that script, remember, for our audition, and you didn’t even notice me come in. I stood watching you for the longest time and when I finally got up the nerve to talk to you I was all awkward and fumbling because I was just this kid, you know, and why would you want to work with someone like me? But then I got to know you and you were like the most amazing person I’ve ever met and we just clicked, right? And the better I got to know you, the happier I was to get this thing, because you’re like my best friend, Jen, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Jensen’s cheeks are burning. He feels ashamed and humiliated even if he knows now that’s not what Jared’s after. “Jared, you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “Okay? Just stop. Please.”

“Goddammit, Jensen!”

The fist slamming down on the table makes him jump, instinctively raising his arm to cover his face, and when he quickly lowers it in embarrassment Jared is staring at him, face pale and eyes wide.

“Jesus, Jen,” Jared says hoarsely and pushes away from the table. “Jesus Christ!” He stands up so abruptly his chair falls to the floor with a bang that makes Jensen jump again and Jared stares at him as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You thought I was gonna hit you? You really thought…”

Jared turns away, hands coming up to cover his eyes in what Jensen can only deem as frustration.

“I’m sorry!” he blurts out, panic rising in his throat. “You just startled me. I didn’t mean…”

“God, what did they do to you?” Jared asks quietly and when he turns around, there are tears in his eyes and he looks like someone just killed both his dogs. “Jesus, Jen. I would never… Never, you hear me?”

“I know, I know! I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

Jared shakes his head. “Stop blaming yourself, okay? For everything.” His jaw clenches as Jensen opens his mouth to apologize again, for what this time he’s not sure. “God, Jen. Just stop it!”

“Okay.” He’s ready to agree to anything as long as Jared will stop looking at him like that. “Okay, Jare. I will. Just please, don’t… Don’t be mad at me. I can’t…” He hates the way his voice shakes. “Please, Jare.”

The anger drains away from Jared’s eyes and he gazes at Jensen with such sadness Jensen doesn’t know what to think. “You think I’m mad at you? I’m not…”

He walks over and pulls out the chair next to Jensen, sitting down and leaning forward until their foreheads are touching. “I’m not mad at you, Jen. I’m mad at them. I’m mad at everyone that ever made you think you’re not the most perfect person in the whole world.”

Jared’s got one hand resting heavily on Jensen’s thigh and the other gripping his bicep. His breath is hot and smells of cinnamon and coffee. His nose is nudging Jensen’s nose and if Jensen dared open his eyes he would be staring straight into Jared’s hazel ones.

“Why are you so scared of me? What is it you’re not telling me, Jen?” Jared whispers. “Please, just tell me. Tell me. I need for you to tell me.”

“I…”

“Tell me. Please,” he begs. “Please, Jen, please. Tell me. I need to know. Please.”

“I’m in love with you,” Jensen chokes out and Jared goes absolutely still. “I’m so in love with you it’s killing me. I know it’s sick and wrong but I can’t…” He sobs, tears stinging his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me, please. I don’t know what I’d do if you…”

“You’re in love with me?” Jared asks dazedly and Jensen wants to disappear right there because he’s ruined everything and now Jared’s going to hate him. What has he done? What the fuck has he done?

“I’m sorry.” He tries to stand up but Jared’s holding him in an iron grip and he can’t move. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I know… I know you’re not… like me. I know you’re not… that.”

His lips twist into a disgusted sneer at the last word and at that Jared lets him go, hands pulling quickly away as if he’s just realized what it is he’s touching.

“Jesus!”

He’s staring at Jensen with horror in his eyes and Jensen nods. Of course. He knew, but it still hurts, hurts more than anything.

He feels so heavy all of a sudden, like the air is too thick to move in it, and when he tries to pull it into his lungs it’s like breathing molasses.

He stands up slowly, still nodding stupidly because in order to talk he has to be able to breathe and… Yeah, that’s not happening. Jared is just sitting there, staring at him, and he doesn’t really know what to do. It’s his apartment so it’s not up to him to leave. He isn’t even properly dressed yet, he’s still just wearing his shorts and Jared’s hoodie…

Oh.

He fumbles for the zipper and pulls it down then shrugs out of the sweater and holds it out.

“You’ll want this back,” he says and huh, look at that, seems he can talk. More of a mumble really but still. Jared just blinks slowly so Jensen lays the hoodie over the back of his chair instead. “I’ll just go…” His voice trails off and he turns away, eyes on the bedroom door. It’s only about twelve feet. He can make it.

“Jen.”

Long fingers close around his arm as he takes the first step and he stops. Okay, so they’re going to fight first. Right. He sighs and turns around as Jared stands up.

“Just don’t punch me in the gut unless you want me puking all over you,” he says tiredly.

“I’m not gonna punch you, you idiot,” Jared whispers and then Jensen’s cheek is being pressed into Jared’s collarbone and there are long arms wrapping securely around him. “I already told you that. I don’t go around punching people, especially not my best friend.”

Oh.

He’s not really sure what’s happening here but he’s just too tired to try and figure it out. He kinda wants to cry but figures he’s already weirded Jared out enough for one day. He closes his eyes instead and breathes slowly into Jared’s neck. He smells really nice. And he’s warm and good and Jensen thinks he might just fall asleep like this, half-naked on his feet in the middle of his kitchen.

“I can’t believe you,” he hears Jared mutter into his ear. “I can’t believe you think…”

“’M sorry,” Jensen mumbles. Not believing sounds good. Maybe he can convince Jared he was only joking. “You’re right. I must have imagined it. Can we forget I said anything?”

“No, not that,” Jared chuckles and Jensen frowns. Why’s Jared laughing? It makes no sense. Nothing makes sense. Also the room is spinning. He really should get some sleep.

“Whoa.” Jared’s arms tighten around Jensen as his knees suddenly buckle. “Hey, you okay?”

“Tired,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. C’mon.”

He’s being pushed and pulled along and is wondering what the hell Jared is playing at when he’s suddenly tipping over and then he’s lying on something soft and familiar. Oh, it’s his bed. That’s nice.

“You sleep now, okay Jen?” His glasses are being plucked from his nose and then the duvet is tucked around him. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Or, you know, this afternoon. Whenever you wake up.”

His eyelids are so very heavy as he struggles to stay awake. “You’ll be here?” he asks, not really believing it.

“I’ll be here.” Jared sits down on the edge of the bed and puts one huge hand on Jensen’s head. “I promise.”

“Okay.” He closes his eyes again. “’M sorry,” he then repeats because he really can’t say that enough times.

“Don’t be.” Jared strokes soothingly over his head and then Jensen feels warm breath on his cheek and something hot that feels suspiciously much like lips touch his temple. “And you’re wrong, Jen.”

Jensen tries to figure out what that means but damn, he’s just too tired and before he has time to ask Jared about it, he falls asleep.

He wakes up alone. It takes him a moment to get his bearings and when he does, when everything starts coming back to him, he waits for the panic to set in. After about five minutes of staring up at the ceiling he realizes it isn’t happening. Huh.

He frowns and tries to summarize last night’s - or rather this morning’s - events in his head. Jared found out he’s a pathetic loser who can’t control his eating habits and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, Jensen told him about being gay and being in love with him. In short, he ruined his whole life in less than two hours. That has to be some kind of a record. So why isn’t he panicking?

After contemplating that for a while he decides it must be because now the worst has happened, there’s really nothing more to worry about. He’s just… done. And although Jared was decent enough to stick around and put him to bed he’s gone now and that’s… Well, it’s what he was expecting, right? So really, nothing to panic over.

His best friend is gone, the best job he’s ever had is gone - because obviously they can’t work together anymore - his life is over and there’s nothing he can do about it. He feels strangely okay about that. He’s had a good year, with Jared and the show. A better time than he ever expected to have. And now it’s over. So…

He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, feeling weirdly calm until he puts on his glasses and that’s when he spots it. Jared’s hoodie, draped over a chair. His throat closes up and suddenly he’s not okay. He’s not okay at all. In fact, he thinks he might just be dying. Right now. Which… yeah, sounds just about right. That’s what he should do. It’s beyond any doubt the best idea he’s had in ages.

He’s not really doing it right though. Sure he’s not breathing and his heart feels like it’s being slowly squeezed into a pulp and there’s this ringing in his ears and spots dancing before his eyes. Which in a fair world would mean he was having a heart attack and what a great way to go, right? But life ain’t exactly fair and he already recognizes it for what it is, just a regular ol’ panic attack, nothing special, so by all accounts he’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours, with a splitting headache and everything else still fucked to shit. Wonderful. God really does hate him.

He’s just about to surrender to the blackness when he hears a voice calling his name, which makes him wonder if maybe he actually is dying because that sounds remarkably much like Jared and he doesn’t usually hallucinate when he has one of these. Then again, there’s a first time for everything.

Part 4