Bulletproof: part eight
part seven
Jared's fingers ache as he wraps them around the steering wheel, the knuckles stinging as they peel open again. As he drives, the directions filtering through his brain without him consciously searching for them, he finds his gaze keeps dropping to his hands. He looks at the blood and can't work out whether the blood is predominantly Nick's or his own.
This thing he's done, it's new to him. He's never done anything like it before, never wanted to. He's been angry before and he's thrown punches before but nothing like the sweltering urge he'd had to hit Nick and to keep on hitting him until he stopped twitching. It's terrifying and yet Jared only has to think of Nick's voice - so beautiful, so worthless - to find rage choking all breath from his throat again.
The memory of what he'd seen comes in detached pieces, the colors bled clean out of the images. Both of them naked, Jensen struggling uselessly under Nick, Nick's fingers spread wide and spider-like over Jensen's bruised skin. And he remembers the sound most of all, the wet hissing as Jensen fought to draw breath.
Abruptly, he wishes he hadn't left. He wets his mouth and peers desperately at the traffic and wishes he'd refused to go. He could have insisted on staying and none of this would seem so bad if he could just be in it with Jensen. Together, this wouldn't be so fucking awful.
When he arrives at the office, he stares blankly at the girl behind the desk. It takes him a moment to remember that Mel's on her honeymoon but even then he can't find a name for her stand-in, though he's pretty sure they were introduced. Her eyes, pale blue and heavily-lashed, are fixed on his hands and he hides them away awkwardly in his pockets.
"I need to see Sam," he says.
She stares at him, wide-eyed, for a second then calls through. Nothing much is said, just that Jared Padalecki wants to see you... No, he's standing right here. And then the door is open and Sam's beckoning him into the office.
Jared lets her take charge, lets her shepherd him into a seat and ask Roz (Roz, her name is Roz) to fetch some coffee for him.
She props herself up against her desk, facing Jared, and very quietly says, "Honey, where's Jensen?"
Jared shakes his head, accepts the coffee Roz passes him and notes Sam's eyes on his bloodied fists.
"He's with Nick Buxcey," Jared says. "I... uh... I punched him. Nick, I mean, not Jensen."
"More than once by the look of those fists."
Sam's tone is soft, warm but Jared doesn't feel it soothing him any. He grips his coffee tighter, letting the burn seep through the china to his aching hands.
"I punched him a coupla times. A lot. He was hurting Jensen. Had him by the throat and was talking about... about how he could make him disappear."
"And Jensen asked you for help?" Sam says.
Jared shakes his head. "He couldn't. Couldn't breathe."
Sam lets out a shuddery breath and straightens up, moves behind her desk and doesn't look at Jared for a long while.
"How badly did you hurt Nick, Jared?"
The sound of his fists on flesh, the wet smack of it, is loud in Jared's ears. And he'd be sorry, he'd be horrified, except he can't stop thinking of those frantic, choked noises Jensen had been making.
"I don't know," he says. "Not dead. I don't think."
"You don't think," Sam echoes dully. She lets out another small, short breath and then dials a number on the phone. It takes a moment and then she says, "Jensen, talk to me."
The conversation is indistinct and Sam only puts in occasional, brief questions, not enough for Jared's deadened brain to string together into sense. So he just nurses his cup of coffee and waits for Sam to get back to him. The conversation doesn't go on long and then Sam hangs up and is looking at him again.
"You worked him over pretty good," she says. "But he should be all right from the sounds of things. Hasn't spoken to the police yet, anyway. We might get lucky. Maybe."
There's nothing readable in her eyes when she looks at Jared. She doesn't seem pissed off or concerned or anything at all. They sit in silence for a while, and Jared has no inclination to break it. He just wants to get away from here, get back to Jensen.
"Jared, I've gotta ask, honey," Sam says. "Are you fucking Jensen?"
He resents the question. Resents it very much and won't answer. He just looks back at her, lips pressed into a tight line. Something flickers across Sam's face and Jared thinks she's probably got her answer. But she leans forward over the desk.
"You're fucking him, aren't you?"
"I love him," Jared snarls at her, and Sam's face just crumples. Abruptly, she looks far too old. Her gaze flickers to an insignificant point on the wall, like looking at him pains her too much.
"And you've been seeing each other." It's not a question. "How long?"
"Four months."
Sam's eyes widen, mouth opening to say something. Then she just nods and leans back in her chair, the leather squeaking quietly. The pale yellow afternoon sunlight filters in through the window and limns her figure.
"Go home, Jared. I'll call you."
He doesn't move until he realises she's said all she's going to. He doesn't know where Jensen is and he knows better than to ask Sam. So for lack of any better course of action, he does as she tells him.
His place feels cold and unsettling. Too many of Jared's possessions have taken up residence at Jensen's and there are gaps on the shelves and in the drawers to remind him that this isn't home anymore. He can't rest, picks without appetite at whatever he can find in the refrigerator, and can't bring himself to call Chad because this is just too fucking messed up to share.
He waits and waits. And it's almost midnight when Jensen finally turns up at his door. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt that doesn't hide the vivid bruises on his throat. There's a heaviness to his gait, like his body's aching to drop but he refuses to let it. Jared lets him in without a word and they stand across the room from one another. It's not easy like Jared expected it to be.
"He might not give your name to the police. He's thinking about it," Jensen says. He rubs his hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut. There's disappointment in his eyes when he looks at Jared, and something else that's harder to label. "It was trash-talking, Jared. Didn't mean anything. He was just getting off."
"That wasn't about getting off! That was… that was terrorizing you."
Stubborn and more defiant, Jensen shakes his head. "Nothing he hasn't done before."
"Really? He's put his hands on your throat and tried to strangle you before? 'Cause I've never seen you bruised up quite like this before, Jen."
There's a protest waiting on Jensen's parted lips but it comes out as nothing but a huff of breath. Jared watches him as Jensen slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He scrapes his fingers through his hair and Jared half wants to go to him and half just wants to see what's coming next.
"You couldn't have called for help," Jared says in a very calm voice, much calmer than he feels. "You were being strangled, and he was talking about killing you. I had to make a decision."
"And you decided to beat the crap outta him? I don't need that kind of help. I don’t need you-" He lets out an angry hiss as the words slip away from him. The half-sentence lingers in the air between them, an unhappy whole.
"You should get some rest," Jared says after the silence has rolled on and on. "Take tomorrow off, at least. You can't see clients with your neck marked up like that."
Jensen's on his feet in seconds, and Jared's too surprised by the sudden snap of fury to even react when Jensen gets up in his face.
"You think I don't fucking know that? Jesus, I've been doing this goddamn job since I was fucking younger than you! Don't you dare fucking tell me when I can see clients and when I can't!"
He's actually shaking with it, he's so angry. The color's high in his cheeks and his eyes are a brighter green than Jared thinks he's ever seen them. Jared just stands there, staring at him. And even though he's hopelessly in love with Jensen, he thinks he feels it falling apart.
:::
Once the first cracks appear, it doesn't take long for it to be beyond repair. All said and done, the relationship's over by the end of the next day.
Jensen doesn't stay the night and his cellphone's turned off when Jared tries calling the next morning. When the voicemail messages he leaves don't seem to get picked up, Jared calls the office. Dimly, he takes in the news from Roz, that Jensen's gone to take an appointment with Carl.
"He called early this morning," Roz says. "Said that if Carl still wanted to book time with him, Jensen could see him today."
Maybe it's not intended as a 'fuck you' to Jared, but it sure as hell sounds like one to him. It could have been worse, he tells himself. Jensen could have gotten him to drive him there and wait for him while he screwed Carl. At least this way, Jared's been cut out of the situation instead of humiliated by being forced to play along.
Nothing's come through to him from Sam, which isn't exactly reassuring, but it's not bad news either. It seems as though Jared's been suspended, which he guesses is fair enough. He asks Roz to get him in to see Sam some time this afternoon.
"I think it'll calm down," Sam says. "Nick Buxcey's not gonna want to go into detail on this one. We'll smooth it over somehow."
She doesn't look pleased or particularly convinced. There's a hardness in her eyes whenever her gaze falls on Jared but it's Jared, not her, who raises the subject of him quitting.
"I just want out," he says. "I know it's short notice but… I can't- I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sorry."
She looks at him, long and intent, until she realises Jared's just going to stare right back at her.
"Have you spoken to Jensen about this?"
"Not yet," he says, like it's a very minor detail.
Then she just nods, and that's it.
:::
When he walks away from it, Jared can't decide if he's doing the grown-up, smart thing, or the juvenile, cowardly one.
The way Jensen opens the door to him, it's clear he's expecting a fight. He's tense, jittery with energy. The bruises have faded only a little and Jared can't help his gaze dropping to them. And when he looks back up, Jensen's lips are curled away from his teeth, like even Jared looking at the marks is an act of hostility.
"I just came to pick up my things," Jared says, not quite looking Jensen in the eye because it's just easier not to. "I spoke to Sam this afternoon. She's gonna find someone else to drive you."
There's open surprise on Jensen's face, his lips gone slack and Jared has the overwhelming urge to kiss him. To put this right by dragging Jensen to bed and fucking him until he's too out of it to fight him on this.
It won't change a damn thing.
"You're ending it," Jensen says, like he's sure he hasn't understood correctly. "Jared, I was a whore when you met me. That's who I am. You can't expect me to change for you."
"I don't. I don't expect you to change. I just… I don't think I can handle it. You can't expect me to stand by and watch them treat you like this, and act like I think it's okay."
He climbs the stairs to Jensen's bedroom and starts removing the items of his clothing from the closet and bundling them into his bag. Jensen's come up behind him and is standing in the doorway, watching with an expression that's somewhere between disbelief and anger.
"So what is this?" he demands. "'Change or I'm leaving?'"
"No. No, it's just… It's just 'I'm leaving'."
When Jared risks looking back over his shoulder at him, Jensen's expression snaps closed. Blank and go to hell.
"Fine," Jensen says. "Get out. Take your stuff, get out and don't come back."
He turns, leaves the room, and is nowhere in sight when Jared goes out the door.
:::
Two months later, Jared has wound up in Vancouver. He's starring as Damian Cartwright, the mysterious and angst-ridden youngest son of the principal family in the hit new series, Rites. Jared only took the role because it was the first thing he was offered that would get him out of Los Angeles but he's since decided the series is actually pretty cool. It has cult appeal, he thinks. He's not entirely sure what's going on with the plot but it has something to do with a pact made hundreds of years ago with an obscure god, which is having repercussions down the generations. The script is smart and it's all very artistically shot.
The schedule's pretty punishing, with 5am calls and working late into the night, but Jared has no problem with that because it gives him less time to think. His co-workers are bearable, even if the younger ones generally seem intent on hitting the gossip pages as fast as possible and the older ones tend to mingle amongst themselves. Mostly, he chats to the crew because they don't want to go to the trendy nightspots where there are likely to be press and cameras, and are happy just to catch a beer now and then.
Tom and Mike take him out pretty regularly. Even Mike's tactful enough not to ever let the conversation drift in the direction of Jensen, and the one time Tom quietly tried to bring the subject up, Jared gently but firmly refused to discuss it.
Still, just because Jared doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t mean he doesn't think about it. He knows it's going to get easier because he knows that's how failed relationships go. It hurts like almighty hell and then it gets better. Except Jared's still very much in the 'hurting like almighty hell' stage and it doesn't seem to be going away. Every morning, when he wakes up, he has a confused second of wondering where Jensen is, before he remembers. And remembering comes like a dull, heavy feeling in his chest. It's a cold weight and he can't shift out from under it.
Sometimes, he thinks the chill of the brisk Vancouver air has gotten into his actual bones because he just can't get warm, and he finds himself thinking longingly of Los Angeles and of Jensen. And it hurts even worse.
:::
It's raining when he meets Chad and Sandy at the airport. Sandy's wrapped up in a big padded jacket and several scarves, and she flings herself at Jared and lets him swing her off her feet. Chad is giving the slate-gray sky a deeply unimpressed scowl but manages a grin when Jared reaches for him and grabs him in a bear hug. Jared feels stupidly relieved to see them both and chatters inanely about the weather and shooting this morning and the gunk the stylists keep putting on his hair all the way to the car. Chad scoots into the back seat and Jared holds the front door open for Sandy, but she stops and puts a hand on his arm.
"You sure you're okay, sweetie?" Her eyes are warm and dark, concerned.
"I'm good," he says. "Honestly. Just… all Damian's emo-angst you're seeing."
She laughs but cocks her head at him. "Well you keep Damian tucked away tight 'cause it's not him I'm here to see, all right?"
They go to a bar and drink and talk and it all feels good. Jared drinks more than he usually allows himself but it's a weekend tomorrow and he's not gonna have to work so it's okay. Most of their news has already been discussed over the phone but they go over it all again - Chad's new girlfriend and Sandy's horror movie - in more detail and Jared laughs at the jokes he's already heard before and lets himself be soothed by simply being with friends.
It goes well and it's only when they're all a little too drunk for the conversation to flow smoothly that Chad leans in over the table, glass in one hand and catches Jared's shirt-front in the other.
"Y'know, the offer's still good. I'll kick his goddamn ass if you want me to." Jared nods and ignores the way Sandy's gaze slides to him. He tries to untangle Chad's grip on his shirt but for a drunk guy, Chad's pretty coordinated and he hangs on. "Seriously, that was one fucked-up relationship. You didn't deserve that shit."
"Man, shut up," Jared says, good-naturedly. He stands up and manages to get Chad on his feet too. "C'mon, let's get you home, so you can piss on yourself in peace, yeah?"
Between him and Sandy, they succeed in getting Chad into a taxi, and the driver does the speed limit the whole way in order to get them home before Chad can throw up all over the interior. Eventually, once they've got Chad snoring drunkenly on the couch, Jared and Sandy curl up in front of the TV.
There's an episode of Seraphim on and Jared watches it and tries not to compare himself to the guy playing the lead. It's worked out well and it distracts them enough that neither of them talk for a while. The pale violet glow of the TV is the only light in the room and it's comfortable having an arm slung around Sandy's shoulders and Chad's knee only occasionally nudging him in the shoulder when he shifts.
Then Sandy tilts her face up at him and says, "Can I ask?"
Jared sighs and looks back the TV screen. The guy playing the fallen angel is good, but he knows he could have done it better. If he'd wanted to. Sandy wriggles round to get a better look at his face.
"I mean, I know we're s'posed to be cheering you up. That's why Chad and me came out, but- Baby, you're miserable."
"I'm not. I'm really not. It's just, y'know, playing Da-"
"Don't. Jared, don't tell me it's playing Damian. If you don't wanna talk about it, fine, just… don't lie to me."
Jared sighs and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Then he shrugs and gives in because what does it fucking matter anymore?
"The guy I was driving around, back in L.A. - it was a rough break-up. He… uh, he was a prostitute. Very expensive but… yeah, a prostitute, and I thought I could deal with it but -" Jared finds a smile from somewhere and pastes it on. "Turns out I couldn't."
It's the most he's said about it. It doesn't even begin to sum up the extent of the fucked-upness of the situation. It doesn't say anything really. It's not enough about how much Jared loved him, and still does, about how much it hurt to realise that it wasn't going to work, or about how he can't bear to think about Jensen because he thinks maybe he abandoned him and if he does think about it he's going to go insane worrying about him.
Sandy's still looking at him when Jared dares sneak a look at her. Maybe she'll be scandalised or push for more details…. Or maybe she'll be awesome and just cuddle in closer.
"I'm sorry it didn't work out for you, Jared," is all she says.
:::
"Dude, we've lost Brooke," Nathan says. "Five-inch heels on ice, she's on her way to Emergency as we speak."
Nathan is one of Jared's three on-screen brothers for Rites. He seems morally opposed to giving people any warning of his arrival and never knocks on Jared's trailer door before barging in. Aside from that, he's the one Jared gets along with best.
Brooke is the youngest of their two 'sisters', inexplicably blonde considering everyone else in the Cartwright family is dark-haired, and known to suffer the cruellest eccentricities of the costume department. The network likes to make the most of the T-and-A, but this is Vancouver.
Jared folds the rest of the Twizzler into his mouth and blinks at him.
"She all right?"
"Wasn't crying or anything. Cussing pretty foul, but no tears." Nathan shrugs, clearly not too concerned. "Anyway, set's shutting down for the night, and me, Mack and Justin are going for a beer. And we're thinking it's about time you came with us."
Jared's already shaking his head before Nathan even stops talking. No way. He doesn't have a problem with Justin, but Mack? Mack is a bit of a prick. He came Number 3 on some Sexiest Ever… list in some magazine or on some poll a year or so back and never quite got over not coming out on top. To Jared's satisfaction, Tom came in ahead of him on the same list. Mack's not a bad guy, he's just the kind of guy who makes Chad look honorable.
"Oh come on!" Nathan says. "You're seriously denting your image as a happy, bouncy puppy with this refusal to come out with us, y'know. I see it on the boards, man. All the fans are gonna be talking about the rift in the Rites cast."
It's clearly intended as a joke but Jared gets the hint of concern in his voice. He knows Jan, the head honcho, has already made a few comments about how Jared keeps to himself. The last thing Jared needs is it to become an issue.
"I'm not gonna stay late, man," he says as he reaches for his coat.
"Define 'late'," Nathan says.
It’s a bad idea. Jared knows it before Mack's even finished his first bottle of beer. Nathan and Justin seem happy to let Mack hold court and Jared doesn't care enough to make a scene, but then Mack turns his attention straight to him and Jared knows it's a bad idea.
"Y'know, Brooke's got it pretty bad for you," Mack says. The look on his face isn't exactly contemptuous, but speculative, like he's looking Jared over to see why.
Jared laughs and shakes his head. "No, man, I don't think so."
"Oh she totally does," Justin says.
"Yeah," says Mack. "I'm kind of surprised you haven't noticed already. So, what's the deal with that? Do you already have a girlfriend?" He pauses, cocks his head on one side and smirks wickedly. "Dude, are you gay?"
"Not gay. Bisexual," Jared says calmly. He smiles politely, bottle halfway to his mouth. "Don’t think it'll be a problem for you though." The inflection he lays on 'you' is subtle but enough for the jibe to be registered.
As it turns out, Mack's the one least weirded out. Nathan's jaw has dropped a little and he laughs in amused surprise. And Justin's a little harder to read but it doesn't look exactly hostile. Mack just grins.
"I'm with you there," he says. He raises an eyebrow as Nathan laughs again, a little more uncertainly. "C'mon, if it feels good on my dick, you think I care whether it's a guy or a girl? Hell, no. Tell you, wouldn't give up on girls, but there's a lot to be said for getting a handjob from someone who knows the equipment."
Amidst Nathan's and Justin's guffaws, Mack catches Jared's eye and grins.
:::
"I swear, if you sleep with him, I will fly all the way up there to kick your ass," Chad says. "The guy couldn't be a more obvious asshat if he was drop-kicking kittens."
"I'm not gonna sleep with Mack," Jared says, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he turns the page of the script for tomorrow.
"Not that I'm saying you should be freaking celibate either, man. I'm thinking maybe getting laid'd put a smile back on your face." Chad gives a critical snort, then says, "S'about time you thought about, maybe, moving on. You could make some fan's whole frickin' year and let her suck you off. Just as a start, baby steps, y'know."
Jared's lips close to a bloodless line and he shakes his head. It's an instinctive response, childlike in its sullenness and stubbornness. He takes a moment for the irrational burst of anger he feels towards Chad to die down.
"Hmm, maybe," is all he says. He concentrates on reading through the scene with Justin and Brooke tomorrow. It's going to take a lot of shouting and Jared can't decide whether he's looking forward to the opportunity to bellow or rage, or whether he's anxious about letting go of the tight restraint he's kept himself under.
Chad snickers down the line, all too aware of the implicit refusal. Jared's known him too long to be able to fool him. But it works too well both ways and Jared's attention slowly seeps away from the script to the curious quality of Chad's silence.
"What is it? C'mon, man, I've said I'm not gonna sleep with him. What are you worrying about?"
The silence rolls on and Jared sits up straighter, pushing the script off his lap. It slithers off his knees, out of the golden-brown glow of the lamplight and onto the floor by the couch. Jared ignores it.
"It's nothing."
"Chad!"
"I saw him, okay? I saw him the other day."
Chad doesn't need to clarify. From his tone, he's clearly regretting mentioning it. Jared's chest has gone tight and there's a weird quiver low down in his belly, both anxious and excited. It's kind of unnerving that just an indirect mention of Jensen has this effect on Jared.
"And? How did he look? Did he look okay?"
"He seemed all right. He was with some guy. I think you've been replaced, buddy." Chad gives a short laugh that breaks off abruptly. "Not- I mean, not like that. Shit, dude, I'm sorry."
"You meant a driver," Jared says, and he's amazed his voice seems so level.
"Yeah," Chad says. "Huge guy, real ugly motherfucker." He laughs again, awkward and uncomfortable. "Seems like he'd probably prefer kicking Jensen's ass to fucking it, y'know?"
It's intended as reassurance, Jared thinks, Chad's trying to tidy up that 'replaced' slip from earlier. But Jared's just thinking how that sounds just like Sam kept threatening to do: give Jensen someone mean and brutal to take care of him. He can't help a tiny smile at the thought of how goddamn bad-tempered Jensen must be with the guy. The smile doesn't last long, because it's Jared's fault that Jensen's been landed with someone he probably can't stand.
Jensen must be so lonely. The thought is incredibly hard to bear.
"Did he see you?" Jared says finally.
"Yeah but… he just blanked me, man. Looked straight through me."
Chad sounds insulted by it but Jared's not sure what else he could expect. It's not like Jensen and Chad could have a friendly conversation just yet, if ever again.
"Did he look… I dunno, did he look happy?"
There's a long, stern silence. Then Chad sighs and says, "Man, he looked like he was still selling his ass to the highest bidder. He looked like whether he was broken up about you leaving or not, it was business as usual."
"Chad-"
"You need to stop being such a pussy about this," Chad tells him. "It's over. You're a TV star in Vancouver and he's a hooker in L.A., time for you to move on." He pauses, then adds, more firmly, "But seriously, you put your dick near Mack, and I will fuck your shit up."
:::
Despite the fact he utterly sucks at videogames, Mack keeps on turning up at Jared's trailer during breaks to play. You'd've thought, for all the practice he's been getting over the course of the month, he'd either show some improvement or stop showing up to get his ass handed to him, but no.
And while Chad can get all worked up and insist that if Jared even so much as gives that prettyboy cuntface a sniff of Jared's dick, Chad'll be on the first flight up there to stage an intervention, Jared doesn't think that's what it's about.
Mack's hands don't wander and sure, he makes dirty jokes, but when Jared just laughs at them and moves on, he doesn't feel the need to turn them personal or push the issue. Jared thinks maybe, maybe, Mack just wants to hang out. And Jared's okay with that.
Of course, it wouldn't be the first time in history that Jared's read someone wrong.
"You can stop avoiding Brooke now, by the way," Mack says, around a mouthful of Jared's gummi bears. "She and Justin are totally fucking."
"No, they're not! Says who?" Jared recovers his gummi bears, and lamely adds, "And I haven't exactly been avoiding her."
"You're just bizarrely absent whenever she's around, sure. And the internet says so."
Jared throws his PS controller down and turns to look at Mack. Mack smirks and shoots him a sidelong look.
"You're getting your facts about your co-stars' love lives from the internet? Dude, the internet?"
"Hey, they had pictures!" Jared raises an eyebrow at that and Mack quickly clarifies the statement, with, "Not of them actually butt-naked and, y'know, inserted… but they had pictures of the way they were looking at each other at that press thing in November, and… well, the boards were going crazy with it."
"Yeah, all right," Jared says, and nods, not bothering to hide his grin.
Mack slaps him in the arm and slumps over him to reach the gummi bears. In the middle of this move, he gives Jared a significant look, which makes Jared kind of awkward.
"Apparently I have a giant man-crush on you," Mack informs him. "According to the internet."
"Oh," says Jared, and clears his throat. "How's that working out for you?"
The fact Mack is still sprawled out over him makes Jared's skin feel too tight, and not in the good way. In the itchy, crawly, need to get out kind of way. Mack isn't moving.
"Pretty good, I think."
Putting his hands on Mack's shoulders, Jared tries to push him back up into sitting position. When being gentle about it doesn't seem to be working, Jared puts some force into it and ends up almost shoving Mack off the couch altogether.
From Mack's reputation and the aggrieved expression on Mack's perfectly sculpted face, Jared's expecting things to turn pretty damn ugly. He's already sizing up in his head whether he needs to be getting out of the trailer and finding someone to neutralise the situation - because surely Mack won't raise hell about getting turned down if people are watching - or whether he can keep this entirely private.
Then Mack brushes his dark hair back off his face and snaps upright.
"Tell me this is not about Tom fucking Welling," he says, terse and angry.
Jared gapes at him.
"What?"
Fury bleeds ever so slightly into uncertainty. Mack's body language shifts just enough that Jared doesn't think he's in imminent danger of getting punched.
"You and Tom Welling. You're not…?" When Jared pulls a clear 'what the fuck?' face, a surprised, embarrassed smile tugs at Mack's lips. "The guy you're pining about, everyone's saying it's Tom Welling."
Coherency is knocked clear out of Jared's brain and he strings something together that doesn't make much sense but which properly expresses his complete confusion.
"What? Seriously, man… what? Just… what?"
Mack's smile becomes a full-fledged grin. He seems as much amused as he does relieved.
"'Bad break-up' is written all over your face, man. You live like a freaking monk. And someone said… you and Welling."
"So you hit on me because… You wanted Tom's leftovers?" Jared says. The idea doesn't insult him as much as it should. Probably he's just too damn fazed by apparently how obvious he's been about missing Jensen. Besides, this way, Mack's pride isn't going to be hurt and nothing'll get too fucked up.
"More like I was gonna make you forget Welling's goddamn name. Show you just how good you could have it." Mack waggles his eyebrows lewdly to make his point and it forces a laugh out of Jared's mouth even if he's still reeling. "But it's not Welling. Well, c'mon then, who?"
"Not going there, man. I came up here to forget all about it, okay?"
"Really? 'Cause, you know, most of us… we came up here to become famous so we can get free stuff and the best seats at restaurants."
He elbows Jared in the ribs, which Jared guesses means there are no hard feelings.
:::
When they break for the holidays, Jared's first instinct is to catch the first flight back to San Antonio and not set foot out of Texas until it's time to head back to Vancouver. But somehow he ends up agreeing to make a quick detour to see Chad, in Los Angeles, first. He hates being back in L. A. He's no sooner out of the airport than he's scanning the crowds on the street for Jensen. It's a big city, he keeps reminding himself. He can get through three whole days without bumping into the guy. It's weird how he can simultaneously be desperate to see Jensen and be wracked with anxiety at the thought of coming face to face with him.
He doesn't stop looking for those familiar lips, the angles of his profile, until Chad's got him drunk out of his skull on Jager. The break from his Jensen fixation is good. Less good is how the Jager leaves him kind of susceptible to agreeing to do things. When he wakes up the next morning, he's not so drunk that he can’t remember Mack calling and asking him to go see him at his hotel this afternoon, but is too drunk to be able to deal with it in a sensible, grown-up manner, and he groans and spends a moment trying to crawl out from under his throbbing headache.
"Don't go," says Chad. "The girly-faced dickweed is probably just gonna try and jump you anyway. Don't fucking do it."
Jared goes.
It's 4pm when he reaches the Beverly Hilton, and it's the first time he's been back since he stopped working with Jensen. He hesitates outside for a long moment. It's a weird, masochistic urge to go to the places Jensen might be. That Mack is staying somewhere Jensen regularly saw clients is as big a pull in Jared coming as actually seeing Mack is. Not that he's going to admit that to Mack. Mack's ego is resilient but Jared doesn't want to push it.
If he's going to see Jensen, it's going to be here. Jared knows it and he's full of nervous energy and his palms are sweaty, but somehow his jaw still drops when he really does see Jensen right there. And Jared knows too that he's missed Jensen, knows that he hasn't gone a whole day without wishing things had been different between them, but he's still hit hard by the sight of him.
Jared just stands there as the guests and bellhops and everyone else mills and throngs around him, and watches Jensen.
In Vancouver, Jared had gotten to thinking that Jensen couldn't be anything like as outright beautiful as he remembered. But the Jensen he has held in his memory does not do the genuine article justice. He'd forgotten the precise bow of Jensen's lips. And he'd forgotten the perfect lines of his body, strong shoulders down to narrow hips and obscenely bowed legs, he'd forgotten the gold L.A. sunlight catching the blond highlights in his styled hair. And though he hadn't forgotten how much he loved Jensen, he's not prepared for just how much it hurts to see him again.
The guy at Jensen's side is, like Chad said, one big, ugly motherfucker. He's wearing a suit that makes no attempt to hide the fact he's easily 250 pounds of muscle. Forty, maybe, though he could be a little younger, he's got his hand resting on Jensen's shoulder, almost like he's steering him. Neither he nor Jensen is smiling.
"Excuse me, sir?" a young woman says. Jared has been so fixed on watching Jensen that he hadn't even noticed her sidling up to his elbow. "You're Damian, from Rites, aren’t you? Could you sign this for my sister? We're both huge fans."
She's polite and friendly, not breathless with admiration but watching Jared more closely than one of the leads of a new TV show on a small network probably merits. Jared guesses he should be flattered, and he is while he quickly scribbles an autograph on the piece of paper the girl holds out to him. But then he looks back over at Jensen and realises that at some point while Jared was distracted, Jensen spotted him.
Their eyes meet for one second - just one second - and then, smooth and casual, Jensen looks away and keeps on walking. Jared isn't sure but, when he starts to stride in a direct line towards him to intercept him before he can get to the doors, he thinks Jensen might actually be speeding up in order to get away.
"Jensen," he says as he steps in front of him. Jared's gaze twitches from Jensen's face briefly as the new guy starts to move in front of Jensen, but then Jensen shakes his head and the guy stops.
Jensen looks at him, the smile at the corners of his lips ever so slightly strained, his expression just a little exasperated. Jared's not sure if that's worse than the blankness he was expecting.
"Shouldn't be seen talking to someone like me, Jay," he chides him lightly. "The gossip pages'll love it. Don't wanna hurt your career now it's taking off, right?"
"Fuck that," Jared says. "I don't care."
He finds he doesn't actually have anything to say to Jensen now he's got him here. Or… no, it's not that. It's that he has too much he wants to say and none of it can be said. So he just stands there and drinks in the sight of Jensen. Even more fucking perfect than Jared remembered. Jensen lets him, but he doesn't take his sunglasses off and Jared's working up the nerve to ask him to because he really wants to be reminded of the exact fucking beautiful shade of green of Jensen's eyes.
Then the new guy flexes his fingers on Jensen's shoulder and says, "C'mon, you got people expecting you."
A faint, rosy flush washes along Jensen's cheekbones, like shame or embarrassment and Jared can't work out why it should be either. Jensen nods at the guy and then directs an awkward smile at Jared - the first honest response to him Jared thinks he's seen Jensen give so far.
"Good seeing you, Jay," Jensen says, before he lets the guy walk him out of the hotel.
It takes Jared a while to get himself moving. Instead of taking the elevator up to Mack's room, Jared takes the stairs in the hopes he'll feel less disoriented and vaguely distressed by the encounter by the time he reaches Mack.
Mack is noticeably butt-naked when he opens the door to Jared. He gives him a shit-eating grin and grabs Jared for a bear hug, even though it's only four days since they last saw each other. Jared pats him on the shoulder because it feels like the only safe place to put his hands. When Mack lets go of him, Jared perches uncomfortably on the end of the unmade bed. The room smells and Jared hopes Mack isn't expecting that they hang around here.
"You should'a been here, man," Mack says, tugging on a t-shirt that Jared recognises as one of Nathan's from the costume department. There was a jacket of 'Damian's' that went missing too and Jared briefly considers checking Mack's luggage for it. "Was just getting into the festive season."
"Yeah?" Jared says. He glances around, notes the suspicious stains on the rumpled sheets on the bed and wishes he hadn't sat down. "Feel free to shut the hell up before we get anywhere near Too Much Information, yeah?"
Still way too naked for Jared to feel comfortable looking in his direction, Mack lights a cigarette and offers Jared the pack. With a short shake of his head, Jared declines and wonders whether Mack's gonna get round to putting his pants on any time soon.
"There's this guy, right?" Mack says. "I'm only on, like, my third time with him. The producer on my last show gave me his number, crazy, huh? But, man, I'm telling you… Worth. Every. Fucking. Cent."
Everything in the room takes on a different, unpleasant aspect. Jensen. It has to be. Jensen was coming down from here. Mack and Jensen fucked, right here on the bed Jared's sitting on, in the last hour. Abruptly, Jared can't take his eyes off Mack, like he's looking for some sign of Jensen on his skin. There's an instinctive surge of jealousy - resentment and bitterness that Mack so easily had an hour or maybe two with Jensen, and Jared had only had a painful few minutes.
Whatever the expression on Jared's face, it gives Mack pause. He jabs his cigarette towards Jared, trailing ash across the carpet.
"Don't tell me you're gonna pitch a fit 'cause I fucked a hooker? I so did not have you down as the prudish type. I don't have to pay for it but sometimes I just want uncomplicated sex with someone who knows how to get me off, you know?"
"Yeah," Jared says. It sounds faint and strangled, so he says it again, stronger. "Yeah." He catches the leer on Mack's face before Mack can even get he words out, and says, "And sorry, not jealous either. You'd have to pay me to get me in bed with you."
"Heh, about that," Mack says. At last, he starts pulling his jeans on. It feels like an excuse for him to not look at Jared's face as he talks. "Look, I've been thinking. Last show I was on, there were these two guys. And the fans really got off on the thought of them together. Y'know, together like butt-sexing. I mean, they totally weren't. One of 'em was even dating one of the girls in the cast. But the fans really loved it and… well, I was thinking, you and me, we're the hottest guys on Rites, right?"
Jared nods uncertainly, with an unsettled feeling where this is heading.
"So how about you and me play it up a little? Nothing too in your face, don't want your tongue down my throat, buddy, but a few little comments in interviews that could be taken either way, a lack of awareness about personal space… that kind of stuff. How about it?"
I'm not really comfortable playing on my sexuality like that. Seems a little sleazy, is what Jared intends to say. But at just the wrong moment, Mack tilts his head towards him and a shaft of sunshine washes softly over his collarbone and Jared sees the faintest pink-red graze of teeth. The memory of Jensen's mouth moving over his skin in hungry, sucking kisses, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he tries to keep his legs spread while Jared fucks him and fucks him and fucks him-
"Sure," is what Jared says.
:::
Chad has told him, in no uncertain terms, that this is a trap.
"Sure, it's just for publicity he's got his hand down your pants. And sure, he'll be doing it when there isn't any goddamn press around, 'cause he's just practising. Just like he'll 'spect you to practise having his dick in your mouth."
Jared is of the opinion that Chad is getting a little over-excited about the whole thing and refuses to discuss it with him any further.
In the cast's second week back on set after the holidays, a journalist comes to interview them. Mack throws down a copy of the magazine the piece'll appear in and smirks at Jared. Between them, they ensure that there are just enough pictures of them goofing off together to make an impression, and just enough comments about each other to be sure of making it into the article.
When the thing's printed a few days later, they read it in Mack's trailer between scenes. Jared leaves while Mack is delightedly searching the internet to see if the fans have decided they make a cute couple or not.
Jared reads the article again once he's back at his own place. There's a picture of him and Mack together, Mack's arm slung around his shoulders and his head tilted towards him as Jared plants a ridiculously pouting kiss on his temple. It's worked pretty well. They're just two guys being dorks together, but they're clearly comfortable getting up close.
He considers the magazine as a whole then, flipping back to the cover. Whether it's the kind of thing Jensen might read. Whether Jensen might still be hurting enough to avoid any mention of Jared in the press, or whether he's devouring any and all gossip he can find. Or maybe, Jensen'll pick it up and think Huh, there's that guy I used to fuck, for free. And he'll read the article and see that Jared's happy and maybe got someone in his life, and Jensen's still fucking miserable and lonely and being used by rich men as some kind of convenient toy.
Jared spends the rest of the night using a black sharpie to disfigure the picture of him and Mack, before he jerks off, hot and angry.
:::
"So," says Tom. "You and Mack Kennedy?"
He's trying very hard to hide the look of utter distaste on his face. Mike is nowhere near as diplomatic and cuffs Jared upside the head. Jared's drink splatters the tabletop and his jeans. Mike's expression says he is entirely unapologetic and Jared sighs and tries to dry himself off with a paper napkin.
"Have you suffered a complete collapse of your standards?" Mike demands. "What other crap have you added to your new list of interests, besides banging a manipulative Welling-wannabe?"
"It's just… dorking around for the cameras," Jared says. It sounds lame even to him.
"This is some heavy-duty dorking," Mike says and slaps down the latest edition of TV Week, the pages folded over to a picture of Jared carrying Mack on his shoulders through some puddles of rainwater, both of them laughing and clinging to each other. Jared flushes at the sight of it.
"Look, there's nothing wrong with Mack, in principle," says Tom. He palms his glass of tequila from one hand to the other. "But he's got his eyes on the prize. You're helping him get there right now. But if it starts to look like you're the bigger star - and you're gonna be because Mack's cute but he's hardly Robert de Niro when it comes to acting - then he will screw you over."
"He did everything he could to sabotage Tom's career after he lost that shitty little popularity contest to him," Mike says. His gaze slides briefly to Tom, something like concern in his eyes. That same look's still there when he directs his attention back to Jared and it's not the kind of thing Jared's used to getting from Mike, which makes him seriously consider whether perhaps he might have screwed up. "You've got things you don't want coming out, right?"
"I'm not ashamed of Jensen-" Jared starts to protest, his spine snapped ramrod straight.
"No, but is Jensen gonna be thrilled about having his name splashed all over the tabloids?" Tom says. "Just… be careful, Jared, okay?"
:::
"I've been talking to the scriptwriters and over the next couple of weeks, we're going to be seeing a lot of Damian and Anais together," says Rich, who's directing this episode. He's a short older guy, friendly, unless he's on set when he becomes a total shark. "So I wanna see you two building on that. They're the two youngest siblings, show me what that means. Let me see why Damian can let down the barriers around Anais, what he's getting from her."
Brooke raises an eyebrow and Jared's lips twitch. Rich catches both of it and he rolls his eyes, grinning.
"No, he's not getting that. We're talking about Damian and Anais, not Damian and Reid." As Jared's cheeks immediately go bright red, Rich's grin broadens. "Oh come on, Jared, we read the articles too. Can't open a magazine without finding a picture of you and Mack. The network's golden couple, right?" His tone says he's teasing, but there's anticipation there, like he's just waiting for Jared to confirm every stupid rumour he and Mack have encouraged to spring up.
Surprisingly though, Brooke smoothes her long blonde curls off her face, the green-lacquered nails looking incongruous on her small, sweet hands, and says, "Oh they're not really together. They're just friends." She shivers and rubs her bare arms. "Are we done? I'm freezing my ass off in this silly little dress they’ve put me in."
"You want my coat?" Jared says, shrugging it off. The air is full of drizzle and the wind spits it at them, sharp and stinging. It doesn't show up on screen so it doesn't hold up shooting but it’s fucking miserable being out in it. Jared's all right because he's been given layers to wear, including a heavy black jacket. Brooke, on the other hand, is wearing a mid-thigh outfit with a plunging neckline. It's a testament to her professionalism that you never see her trembling when they're filming. But with the cameras off, she looks in danger of turning blue.
Gratefully, she wraps herself up in Jared's coat, her petite frame totally lost in the fabric, and bats her lashes at Rich until he agrees that they can go. She and Jared walk in companionable silence back towards catering for some lunch. Jared cuts the length of his stride considerably and keeps alongside her.
"So, why are Damian and Anais so close?" Brooke says thoughtfully after a while. "Is it 'cause they're the youngest? There's no special bond between Reid and Klara as the eldest, is there?"
"Don’t think so," Jared says. He rubs his jaw and considers. "Damian called Anais in that episode when he went missing, didn't he?"
"Yeah. And Damian was the one Anais told when she thought that guy from town was using Klara to get into the house, right?" Brooke shrugs her shoulders. "So they're obviously on the same team, yeah? How are we gonna make it show?"
"Well, Damian doesn't really touch anyone else. Not aside from Becca but that's… well, that's all about the sexual tension. So, how about some brother-sister affection? I dunno, a hug?"
Brooke shakes her head. "Too much. Maybe an arm round the shoulders?"
Coming to a full halt, Jared turns to look at Brooke. He eyes her speculatively and she stands there and lets him, dark blue eyes fixed on him expectantly. While he watches her face for her reaction, he reaches out and knocks a curl of her hair back behind her shoulders. It's quickly done, barely touching at all, but it speaks of a certain intimacy, an easiness between them.
"Yeah. Perfect." She cocks her head on one side, still smiling. "I'm right, aren't I? You and Mack aren't really together, are you?" Even her tone makes the answer she's expecting clear.
"No," Jared admits, shoving his hands back in the pockets of his pants, his shoulders hunching tighter. "Just for publicity, y'know? Is that sleazy?"
"Yeah, a little," she says but her voice is gentle, sympathetic. "Everyone does it. But yeah, it's a little sleazy." She straightens out the cuffs of his coat and grins at him impishly. "Only reason I'm saying anything is 'cause sleazy doesn’t suit you."
That bothers him. Because she's right and because the speculation about whether Jensen's seen the pictures and read the articles, and whether he even cares that Jared has someone else is all just endlessly frustrating. So after Jared's eaten lunch with her and Justin (whom Jared suspects actually are a couple), he goes over to Mack's trailer. Mack's finished his scenes for the day, has had his shower and is getting ready to head off.
"I've been thinking," Jared says by way of greeting. He sits down on the tiny trailer couch and leans forwards, his forearms on his thighs. "I think we can cool things off. I mean, we've given the fans plenty to play with, right? And it's kind of getting in the way now."
"Is it?" Mack says. He takes a step towards Jared, his hands outstretched. "Has something happened?"
"No. No, it's nothing like that. I just… I don't see the point in playing it up anymore. Everyone's convinced we're secretly having some big gay romance." Jared scrapes his fingers through his rain-damp hair. "It was fine when it was just, y'know, jokes and shit. But now… it's starting to feel like lying. I don't wanna be lying to people, Mack. Not my co-stars, not the fans. Okay?"
The look Mack gives him is, for the briefest second, deeply unnerving. Then Mack shrugs and Jared can almost convince himself he imagined the gleam of intensity in Mack's eyes a moment ago, because Mack's all easy-going, good-natured agreement. He claps Jared on the shoulder and laughs.
"Sure, man, if it's bothering you. Hell, we've done our thing. And like you said, everyone's convinced." He catches Jared's face in his hands and drops a ridiculously sloppy kiss on Jared's forehead. "You've been awesome about this whole thing. Really. I'm fucking grateful. You're gonna have to let me do something for you. I dunno, throw you a party or something?"
"No, it's cool," Jared says, all easy relief. "We're fine. It's been good for both of us. Hell, half the journalists who've come up here have only wanted to talk to you and me. You don't owe me anything."
"No way," says Mack. He straightens up and picks up his jacket. "I'm gonna give you one hell of a thank-you present."
part nine
Jared's fingers ache as he wraps them around the steering wheel, the knuckles stinging as they peel open again. As he drives, the directions filtering through his brain without him consciously searching for them, he finds his gaze keeps dropping to his hands. He looks at the blood and can't work out whether the blood is predominantly Nick's or his own.
This thing he's done, it's new to him. He's never done anything like it before, never wanted to. He's been angry before and he's thrown punches before but nothing like the sweltering urge he'd had to hit Nick and to keep on hitting him until he stopped twitching. It's terrifying and yet Jared only has to think of Nick's voice - so beautiful, so worthless - to find rage choking all breath from his throat again.
The memory of what he'd seen comes in detached pieces, the colors bled clean out of the images. Both of them naked, Jensen struggling uselessly under Nick, Nick's fingers spread wide and spider-like over Jensen's bruised skin. And he remembers the sound most of all, the wet hissing as Jensen fought to draw breath.
Abruptly, he wishes he hadn't left. He wets his mouth and peers desperately at the traffic and wishes he'd refused to go. He could have insisted on staying and none of this would seem so bad if he could just be in it with Jensen. Together, this wouldn't be so fucking awful.
When he arrives at the office, he stares blankly at the girl behind the desk. It takes him a moment to remember that Mel's on her honeymoon but even then he can't find a name for her stand-in, though he's pretty sure they were introduced. Her eyes, pale blue and heavily-lashed, are fixed on his hands and he hides them away awkwardly in his pockets.
"I need to see Sam," he says.
She stares at him, wide-eyed, for a second then calls through. Nothing much is said, just that Jared Padalecki wants to see you... No, he's standing right here. And then the door is open and Sam's beckoning him into the office.
Jared lets her take charge, lets her shepherd him into a seat and ask Roz (Roz, her name is Roz) to fetch some coffee for him.
She props herself up against her desk, facing Jared, and very quietly says, "Honey, where's Jensen?"
Jared shakes his head, accepts the coffee Roz passes him and notes Sam's eyes on his bloodied fists.
"He's with Nick Buxcey," Jared says. "I... uh... I punched him. Nick, I mean, not Jensen."
"More than once by the look of those fists."
Sam's tone is soft, warm but Jared doesn't feel it soothing him any. He grips his coffee tighter, letting the burn seep through the china to his aching hands.
"I punched him a coupla times. A lot. He was hurting Jensen. Had him by the throat and was talking about... about how he could make him disappear."
"And Jensen asked you for help?" Sam says.
Jared shakes his head. "He couldn't. Couldn't breathe."
Sam lets out a shuddery breath and straightens up, moves behind her desk and doesn't look at Jared for a long while.
"How badly did you hurt Nick, Jared?"
The sound of his fists on flesh, the wet smack of it, is loud in Jared's ears. And he'd be sorry, he'd be horrified, except he can't stop thinking of those frantic, choked noises Jensen had been making.
"I don't know," he says. "Not dead. I don't think."
"You don't think," Sam echoes dully. She lets out another small, short breath and then dials a number on the phone. It takes a moment and then she says, "Jensen, talk to me."
The conversation is indistinct and Sam only puts in occasional, brief questions, not enough for Jared's deadened brain to string together into sense. So he just nurses his cup of coffee and waits for Sam to get back to him. The conversation doesn't go on long and then Sam hangs up and is looking at him again.
"You worked him over pretty good," she says. "But he should be all right from the sounds of things. Hasn't spoken to the police yet, anyway. We might get lucky. Maybe."
There's nothing readable in her eyes when she looks at Jared. She doesn't seem pissed off or concerned or anything at all. They sit in silence for a while, and Jared has no inclination to break it. He just wants to get away from here, get back to Jensen.
"Jared, I've gotta ask, honey," Sam says. "Are you fucking Jensen?"
He resents the question. Resents it very much and won't answer. He just looks back at her, lips pressed into a tight line. Something flickers across Sam's face and Jared thinks she's probably got her answer. But she leans forward over the desk.
"You're fucking him, aren't you?"
"I love him," Jared snarls at her, and Sam's face just crumples. Abruptly, she looks far too old. Her gaze flickers to an insignificant point on the wall, like looking at him pains her too much.
"And you've been seeing each other." It's not a question. "How long?"
"Four months."
Sam's eyes widen, mouth opening to say something. Then she just nods and leans back in her chair, the leather squeaking quietly. The pale yellow afternoon sunlight filters in through the window and limns her figure.
"Go home, Jared. I'll call you."
He doesn't move until he realises she's said all she's going to. He doesn't know where Jensen is and he knows better than to ask Sam. So for lack of any better course of action, he does as she tells him.
His place feels cold and unsettling. Too many of Jared's possessions have taken up residence at Jensen's and there are gaps on the shelves and in the drawers to remind him that this isn't home anymore. He can't rest, picks without appetite at whatever he can find in the refrigerator, and can't bring himself to call Chad because this is just too fucking messed up to share.
He waits and waits. And it's almost midnight when Jensen finally turns up at his door. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt that doesn't hide the vivid bruises on his throat. There's a heaviness to his gait, like his body's aching to drop but he refuses to let it. Jared lets him in without a word and they stand across the room from one another. It's not easy like Jared expected it to be.
"He might not give your name to the police. He's thinking about it," Jensen says. He rubs his hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut. There's disappointment in his eyes when he looks at Jared, and something else that's harder to label. "It was trash-talking, Jared. Didn't mean anything. He was just getting off."
"That wasn't about getting off! That was… that was terrorizing you."
Stubborn and more defiant, Jensen shakes his head. "Nothing he hasn't done before."
"Really? He's put his hands on your throat and tried to strangle you before? 'Cause I've never seen you bruised up quite like this before, Jen."
There's a protest waiting on Jensen's parted lips but it comes out as nothing but a huff of breath. Jared watches him as Jensen slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He scrapes his fingers through his hair and Jared half wants to go to him and half just wants to see what's coming next.
"You couldn't have called for help," Jared says in a very calm voice, much calmer than he feels. "You were being strangled, and he was talking about killing you. I had to make a decision."
"And you decided to beat the crap outta him? I don't need that kind of help. I don’t need you-" He lets out an angry hiss as the words slip away from him. The half-sentence lingers in the air between them, an unhappy whole.
"You should get some rest," Jared says after the silence has rolled on and on. "Take tomorrow off, at least. You can't see clients with your neck marked up like that."
Jensen's on his feet in seconds, and Jared's too surprised by the sudden snap of fury to even react when Jensen gets up in his face.
"You think I don't fucking know that? Jesus, I've been doing this goddamn job since I was fucking younger than you! Don't you dare fucking tell me when I can see clients and when I can't!"
He's actually shaking with it, he's so angry. The color's high in his cheeks and his eyes are a brighter green than Jared thinks he's ever seen them. Jared just stands there, staring at him. And even though he's hopelessly in love with Jensen, he thinks he feels it falling apart.
:::
Once the first cracks appear, it doesn't take long for it to be beyond repair. All said and done, the relationship's over by the end of the next day.
Jensen doesn't stay the night and his cellphone's turned off when Jared tries calling the next morning. When the voicemail messages he leaves don't seem to get picked up, Jared calls the office. Dimly, he takes in the news from Roz, that Jensen's gone to take an appointment with Carl.
"He called early this morning," Roz says. "Said that if Carl still wanted to book time with him, Jensen could see him today."
Maybe it's not intended as a 'fuck you' to Jared, but it sure as hell sounds like one to him. It could have been worse, he tells himself. Jensen could have gotten him to drive him there and wait for him while he screwed Carl. At least this way, Jared's been cut out of the situation instead of humiliated by being forced to play along.
Nothing's come through to him from Sam, which isn't exactly reassuring, but it's not bad news either. It seems as though Jared's been suspended, which he guesses is fair enough. He asks Roz to get him in to see Sam some time this afternoon.
"I think it'll calm down," Sam says. "Nick Buxcey's not gonna want to go into detail on this one. We'll smooth it over somehow."
She doesn't look pleased or particularly convinced. There's a hardness in her eyes whenever her gaze falls on Jared but it's Jared, not her, who raises the subject of him quitting.
"I just want out," he says. "I know it's short notice but… I can't- I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sorry."
She looks at him, long and intent, until she realises Jared's just going to stare right back at her.
"Have you spoken to Jensen about this?"
"Not yet," he says, like it's a very minor detail.
Then she just nods, and that's it.
:::
When he walks away from it, Jared can't decide if he's doing the grown-up, smart thing, or the juvenile, cowardly one.
The way Jensen opens the door to him, it's clear he's expecting a fight. He's tense, jittery with energy. The bruises have faded only a little and Jared can't help his gaze dropping to them. And when he looks back up, Jensen's lips are curled away from his teeth, like even Jared looking at the marks is an act of hostility.
"I just came to pick up my things," Jared says, not quite looking Jensen in the eye because it's just easier not to. "I spoke to Sam this afternoon. She's gonna find someone else to drive you."
There's open surprise on Jensen's face, his lips gone slack and Jared has the overwhelming urge to kiss him. To put this right by dragging Jensen to bed and fucking him until he's too out of it to fight him on this.
It won't change a damn thing.
"You're ending it," Jensen says, like he's sure he hasn't understood correctly. "Jared, I was a whore when you met me. That's who I am. You can't expect me to change for you."
"I don't. I don't expect you to change. I just… I don't think I can handle it. You can't expect me to stand by and watch them treat you like this, and act like I think it's okay."
He climbs the stairs to Jensen's bedroom and starts removing the items of his clothing from the closet and bundling them into his bag. Jensen's come up behind him and is standing in the doorway, watching with an expression that's somewhere between disbelief and anger.
"So what is this?" he demands. "'Change or I'm leaving?'"
"No. No, it's just… It's just 'I'm leaving'."
When Jared risks looking back over his shoulder at him, Jensen's expression snaps closed. Blank and go to hell.
"Fine," Jensen says. "Get out. Take your stuff, get out and don't come back."
He turns, leaves the room, and is nowhere in sight when Jared goes out the door.
:::
Two months later, Jared has wound up in Vancouver. He's starring as Damian Cartwright, the mysterious and angst-ridden youngest son of the principal family in the hit new series, Rites. Jared only took the role because it was the first thing he was offered that would get him out of Los Angeles but he's since decided the series is actually pretty cool. It has cult appeal, he thinks. He's not entirely sure what's going on with the plot but it has something to do with a pact made hundreds of years ago with an obscure god, which is having repercussions down the generations. The script is smart and it's all very artistically shot.
The schedule's pretty punishing, with 5am calls and working late into the night, but Jared has no problem with that because it gives him less time to think. His co-workers are bearable, even if the younger ones generally seem intent on hitting the gossip pages as fast as possible and the older ones tend to mingle amongst themselves. Mostly, he chats to the crew because they don't want to go to the trendy nightspots where there are likely to be press and cameras, and are happy just to catch a beer now and then.
Tom and Mike take him out pretty regularly. Even Mike's tactful enough not to ever let the conversation drift in the direction of Jensen, and the one time Tom quietly tried to bring the subject up, Jared gently but firmly refused to discuss it.
Still, just because Jared doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t mean he doesn't think about it. He knows it's going to get easier because he knows that's how failed relationships go. It hurts like almighty hell and then it gets better. Except Jared's still very much in the 'hurting like almighty hell' stage and it doesn't seem to be going away. Every morning, when he wakes up, he has a confused second of wondering where Jensen is, before he remembers. And remembering comes like a dull, heavy feeling in his chest. It's a cold weight and he can't shift out from under it.
Sometimes, he thinks the chill of the brisk Vancouver air has gotten into his actual bones because he just can't get warm, and he finds himself thinking longingly of Los Angeles and of Jensen. And it hurts even worse.
:::
It's raining when he meets Chad and Sandy at the airport. Sandy's wrapped up in a big padded jacket and several scarves, and she flings herself at Jared and lets him swing her off her feet. Chad is giving the slate-gray sky a deeply unimpressed scowl but manages a grin when Jared reaches for him and grabs him in a bear hug. Jared feels stupidly relieved to see them both and chatters inanely about the weather and shooting this morning and the gunk the stylists keep putting on his hair all the way to the car. Chad scoots into the back seat and Jared holds the front door open for Sandy, but she stops and puts a hand on his arm.
"You sure you're okay, sweetie?" Her eyes are warm and dark, concerned.
"I'm good," he says. "Honestly. Just… all Damian's emo-angst you're seeing."
She laughs but cocks her head at him. "Well you keep Damian tucked away tight 'cause it's not him I'm here to see, all right?"
They go to a bar and drink and talk and it all feels good. Jared drinks more than he usually allows himself but it's a weekend tomorrow and he's not gonna have to work so it's okay. Most of their news has already been discussed over the phone but they go over it all again - Chad's new girlfriend and Sandy's horror movie - in more detail and Jared laughs at the jokes he's already heard before and lets himself be soothed by simply being with friends.
It goes well and it's only when they're all a little too drunk for the conversation to flow smoothly that Chad leans in over the table, glass in one hand and catches Jared's shirt-front in the other.
"Y'know, the offer's still good. I'll kick his goddamn ass if you want me to." Jared nods and ignores the way Sandy's gaze slides to him. He tries to untangle Chad's grip on his shirt but for a drunk guy, Chad's pretty coordinated and he hangs on. "Seriously, that was one fucked-up relationship. You didn't deserve that shit."
"Man, shut up," Jared says, good-naturedly. He stands up and manages to get Chad on his feet too. "C'mon, let's get you home, so you can piss on yourself in peace, yeah?"
Between him and Sandy, they succeed in getting Chad into a taxi, and the driver does the speed limit the whole way in order to get them home before Chad can throw up all over the interior. Eventually, once they've got Chad snoring drunkenly on the couch, Jared and Sandy curl up in front of the TV.
There's an episode of Seraphim on and Jared watches it and tries not to compare himself to the guy playing the lead. It's worked out well and it distracts them enough that neither of them talk for a while. The pale violet glow of the TV is the only light in the room and it's comfortable having an arm slung around Sandy's shoulders and Chad's knee only occasionally nudging him in the shoulder when he shifts.
Then Sandy tilts her face up at him and says, "Can I ask?"
Jared sighs and looks back the TV screen. The guy playing the fallen angel is good, but he knows he could have done it better. If he'd wanted to. Sandy wriggles round to get a better look at his face.
"I mean, I know we're s'posed to be cheering you up. That's why Chad and me came out, but- Baby, you're miserable."
"I'm not. I'm really not. It's just, y'know, playing Da-"
"Don't. Jared, don't tell me it's playing Damian. If you don't wanna talk about it, fine, just… don't lie to me."
Jared sighs and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Then he shrugs and gives in because what does it fucking matter anymore?
"The guy I was driving around, back in L.A. - it was a rough break-up. He… uh, he was a prostitute. Very expensive but… yeah, a prostitute, and I thought I could deal with it but -" Jared finds a smile from somewhere and pastes it on. "Turns out I couldn't."
It's the most he's said about it. It doesn't even begin to sum up the extent of the fucked-upness of the situation. It doesn't say anything really. It's not enough about how much Jared loved him, and still does, about how much it hurt to realise that it wasn't going to work, or about how he can't bear to think about Jensen because he thinks maybe he abandoned him and if he does think about it he's going to go insane worrying about him.
Sandy's still looking at him when Jared dares sneak a look at her. Maybe she'll be scandalised or push for more details…. Or maybe she'll be awesome and just cuddle in closer.
"I'm sorry it didn't work out for you, Jared," is all she says.
:::
"Dude, we've lost Brooke," Nathan says. "Five-inch heels on ice, she's on her way to Emergency as we speak."
Nathan is one of Jared's three on-screen brothers for Rites. He seems morally opposed to giving people any warning of his arrival and never knocks on Jared's trailer door before barging in. Aside from that, he's the one Jared gets along with best.
Brooke is the youngest of their two 'sisters', inexplicably blonde considering everyone else in the Cartwright family is dark-haired, and known to suffer the cruellest eccentricities of the costume department. The network likes to make the most of the T-and-A, but this is Vancouver.
Jared folds the rest of the Twizzler into his mouth and blinks at him.
"She all right?"
"Wasn't crying or anything. Cussing pretty foul, but no tears." Nathan shrugs, clearly not too concerned. "Anyway, set's shutting down for the night, and me, Mack and Justin are going for a beer. And we're thinking it's about time you came with us."
Jared's already shaking his head before Nathan even stops talking. No way. He doesn't have a problem with Justin, but Mack? Mack is a bit of a prick. He came Number 3 on some Sexiest Ever… list in some magazine or on some poll a year or so back and never quite got over not coming out on top. To Jared's satisfaction, Tom came in ahead of him on the same list. Mack's not a bad guy, he's just the kind of guy who makes Chad look honorable.
"Oh come on!" Nathan says. "You're seriously denting your image as a happy, bouncy puppy with this refusal to come out with us, y'know. I see it on the boards, man. All the fans are gonna be talking about the rift in the Rites cast."
It's clearly intended as a joke but Jared gets the hint of concern in his voice. He knows Jan, the head honcho, has already made a few comments about how Jared keeps to himself. The last thing Jared needs is it to become an issue.
"I'm not gonna stay late, man," he says as he reaches for his coat.
"Define 'late'," Nathan says.
It’s a bad idea. Jared knows it before Mack's even finished his first bottle of beer. Nathan and Justin seem happy to let Mack hold court and Jared doesn't care enough to make a scene, but then Mack turns his attention straight to him and Jared knows it's a bad idea.
"Y'know, Brooke's got it pretty bad for you," Mack says. The look on his face isn't exactly contemptuous, but speculative, like he's looking Jared over to see why.
Jared laughs and shakes his head. "No, man, I don't think so."
"Oh she totally does," Justin says.
"Yeah," says Mack. "I'm kind of surprised you haven't noticed already. So, what's the deal with that? Do you already have a girlfriend?" He pauses, cocks his head on one side and smirks wickedly. "Dude, are you gay?"
"Not gay. Bisexual," Jared says calmly. He smiles politely, bottle halfway to his mouth. "Don’t think it'll be a problem for you though." The inflection he lays on 'you' is subtle but enough for the jibe to be registered.
As it turns out, Mack's the one least weirded out. Nathan's jaw has dropped a little and he laughs in amused surprise. And Justin's a little harder to read but it doesn't look exactly hostile. Mack just grins.
"I'm with you there," he says. He raises an eyebrow as Nathan laughs again, a little more uncertainly. "C'mon, if it feels good on my dick, you think I care whether it's a guy or a girl? Hell, no. Tell you, wouldn't give up on girls, but there's a lot to be said for getting a handjob from someone who knows the equipment."
Amidst Nathan's and Justin's guffaws, Mack catches Jared's eye and grins.
:::
"I swear, if you sleep with him, I will fly all the way up there to kick your ass," Chad says. "The guy couldn't be a more obvious asshat if he was drop-kicking kittens."
"I'm not gonna sleep with Mack," Jared says, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he turns the page of the script for tomorrow.
"Not that I'm saying you should be freaking celibate either, man. I'm thinking maybe getting laid'd put a smile back on your face." Chad gives a critical snort, then says, "S'about time you thought about, maybe, moving on. You could make some fan's whole frickin' year and let her suck you off. Just as a start, baby steps, y'know."
Jared's lips close to a bloodless line and he shakes his head. It's an instinctive response, childlike in its sullenness and stubbornness. He takes a moment for the irrational burst of anger he feels towards Chad to die down.
"Hmm, maybe," is all he says. He concentrates on reading through the scene with Justin and Brooke tomorrow. It's going to take a lot of shouting and Jared can't decide whether he's looking forward to the opportunity to bellow or rage, or whether he's anxious about letting go of the tight restraint he's kept himself under.
Chad snickers down the line, all too aware of the implicit refusal. Jared's known him too long to be able to fool him. But it works too well both ways and Jared's attention slowly seeps away from the script to the curious quality of Chad's silence.
"What is it? C'mon, man, I've said I'm not gonna sleep with him. What are you worrying about?"
The silence rolls on and Jared sits up straighter, pushing the script off his lap. It slithers off his knees, out of the golden-brown glow of the lamplight and onto the floor by the couch. Jared ignores it.
"It's nothing."
"Chad!"
"I saw him, okay? I saw him the other day."
Chad doesn't need to clarify. From his tone, he's clearly regretting mentioning it. Jared's chest has gone tight and there's a weird quiver low down in his belly, both anxious and excited. It's kind of unnerving that just an indirect mention of Jensen has this effect on Jared.
"And? How did he look? Did he look okay?"
"He seemed all right. He was with some guy. I think you've been replaced, buddy." Chad gives a short laugh that breaks off abruptly. "Not- I mean, not like that. Shit, dude, I'm sorry."
"You meant a driver," Jared says, and he's amazed his voice seems so level.
"Yeah," Chad says. "Huge guy, real ugly motherfucker." He laughs again, awkward and uncomfortable. "Seems like he'd probably prefer kicking Jensen's ass to fucking it, y'know?"
It's intended as reassurance, Jared thinks, Chad's trying to tidy up that 'replaced' slip from earlier. But Jared's just thinking how that sounds just like Sam kept threatening to do: give Jensen someone mean and brutal to take care of him. He can't help a tiny smile at the thought of how goddamn bad-tempered Jensen must be with the guy. The smile doesn't last long, because it's Jared's fault that Jensen's been landed with someone he probably can't stand.
Jensen must be so lonely. The thought is incredibly hard to bear.
"Did he see you?" Jared says finally.
"Yeah but… he just blanked me, man. Looked straight through me."
Chad sounds insulted by it but Jared's not sure what else he could expect. It's not like Jensen and Chad could have a friendly conversation just yet, if ever again.
"Did he look… I dunno, did he look happy?"
There's a long, stern silence. Then Chad sighs and says, "Man, he looked like he was still selling his ass to the highest bidder. He looked like whether he was broken up about you leaving or not, it was business as usual."
"Chad-"
"You need to stop being such a pussy about this," Chad tells him. "It's over. You're a TV star in Vancouver and he's a hooker in L.A., time for you to move on." He pauses, then adds, more firmly, "But seriously, you put your dick near Mack, and I will fuck your shit up."
:::
Despite the fact he utterly sucks at videogames, Mack keeps on turning up at Jared's trailer during breaks to play. You'd've thought, for all the practice he's been getting over the course of the month, he'd either show some improvement or stop showing up to get his ass handed to him, but no.
And while Chad can get all worked up and insist that if Jared even so much as gives that prettyboy cuntface a sniff of Jared's dick, Chad'll be on the first flight up there to stage an intervention, Jared doesn't think that's what it's about.
Mack's hands don't wander and sure, he makes dirty jokes, but when Jared just laughs at them and moves on, he doesn't feel the need to turn them personal or push the issue. Jared thinks maybe, maybe, Mack just wants to hang out. And Jared's okay with that.
Of course, it wouldn't be the first time in history that Jared's read someone wrong.
"You can stop avoiding Brooke now, by the way," Mack says, around a mouthful of Jared's gummi bears. "She and Justin are totally fucking."
"No, they're not! Says who?" Jared recovers his gummi bears, and lamely adds, "And I haven't exactly been avoiding her."
"You're just bizarrely absent whenever she's around, sure. And the internet says so."
Jared throws his PS controller down and turns to look at Mack. Mack smirks and shoots him a sidelong look.
"You're getting your facts about your co-stars' love lives from the internet? Dude, the internet?"
"Hey, they had pictures!" Jared raises an eyebrow at that and Mack quickly clarifies the statement, with, "Not of them actually butt-naked and, y'know, inserted… but they had pictures of the way they were looking at each other at that press thing in November, and… well, the boards were going crazy with it."
"Yeah, all right," Jared says, and nods, not bothering to hide his grin.
Mack slaps him in the arm and slumps over him to reach the gummi bears. In the middle of this move, he gives Jared a significant look, which makes Jared kind of awkward.
"Apparently I have a giant man-crush on you," Mack informs him. "According to the internet."
"Oh," says Jared, and clears his throat. "How's that working out for you?"
The fact Mack is still sprawled out over him makes Jared's skin feel too tight, and not in the good way. In the itchy, crawly, need to get out kind of way. Mack isn't moving.
"Pretty good, I think."
Putting his hands on Mack's shoulders, Jared tries to push him back up into sitting position. When being gentle about it doesn't seem to be working, Jared puts some force into it and ends up almost shoving Mack off the couch altogether.
From Mack's reputation and the aggrieved expression on Mack's perfectly sculpted face, Jared's expecting things to turn pretty damn ugly. He's already sizing up in his head whether he needs to be getting out of the trailer and finding someone to neutralise the situation - because surely Mack won't raise hell about getting turned down if people are watching - or whether he can keep this entirely private.
Then Mack brushes his dark hair back off his face and snaps upright.
"Tell me this is not about Tom fucking Welling," he says, terse and angry.
Jared gapes at him.
"What?"
Fury bleeds ever so slightly into uncertainty. Mack's body language shifts just enough that Jared doesn't think he's in imminent danger of getting punched.
"You and Tom Welling. You're not…?" When Jared pulls a clear 'what the fuck?' face, a surprised, embarrassed smile tugs at Mack's lips. "The guy you're pining about, everyone's saying it's Tom Welling."
Coherency is knocked clear out of Jared's brain and he strings something together that doesn't make much sense but which properly expresses his complete confusion.
"What? Seriously, man… what? Just… what?"
Mack's smile becomes a full-fledged grin. He seems as much amused as he does relieved.
"'Bad break-up' is written all over your face, man. You live like a freaking monk. And someone said… you and Welling."
"So you hit on me because… You wanted Tom's leftovers?" Jared says. The idea doesn't insult him as much as it should. Probably he's just too damn fazed by apparently how obvious he's been about missing Jensen. Besides, this way, Mack's pride isn't going to be hurt and nothing'll get too fucked up.
"More like I was gonna make you forget Welling's goddamn name. Show you just how good you could have it." Mack waggles his eyebrows lewdly to make his point and it forces a laugh out of Jared's mouth even if he's still reeling. "But it's not Welling. Well, c'mon then, who?"
"Not going there, man. I came up here to forget all about it, okay?"
"Really? 'Cause, you know, most of us… we came up here to become famous so we can get free stuff and the best seats at restaurants."
He elbows Jared in the ribs, which Jared guesses means there are no hard feelings.
:::
When they break for the holidays, Jared's first instinct is to catch the first flight back to San Antonio and not set foot out of Texas until it's time to head back to Vancouver. But somehow he ends up agreeing to make a quick detour to see Chad, in Los Angeles, first. He hates being back in L. A. He's no sooner out of the airport than he's scanning the crowds on the street for Jensen. It's a big city, he keeps reminding himself. He can get through three whole days without bumping into the guy. It's weird how he can simultaneously be desperate to see Jensen and be wracked with anxiety at the thought of coming face to face with him.
He doesn't stop looking for those familiar lips, the angles of his profile, until Chad's got him drunk out of his skull on Jager. The break from his Jensen fixation is good. Less good is how the Jager leaves him kind of susceptible to agreeing to do things. When he wakes up the next morning, he's not so drunk that he can’t remember Mack calling and asking him to go see him at his hotel this afternoon, but is too drunk to be able to deal with it in a sensible, grown-up manner, and he groans and spends a moment trying to crawl out from under his throbbing headache.
"Don't go," says Chad. "The girly-faced dickweed is probably just gonna try and jump you anyway. Don't fucking do it."
Jared goes.
It's 4pm when he reaches the Beverly Hilton, and it's the first time he's been back since he stopped working with Jensen. He hesitates outside for a long moment. It's a weird, masochistic urge to go to the places Jensen might be. That Mack is staying somewhere Jensen regularly saw clients is as big a pull in Jared coming as actually seeing Mack is. Not that he's going to admit that to Mack. Mack's ego is resilient but Jared doesn't want to push it.
If he's going to see Jensen, it's going to be here. Jared knows it and he's full of nervous energy and his palms are sweaty, but somehow his jaw still drops when he really does see Jensen right there. And Jared knows too that he's missed Jensen, knows that he hasn't gone a whole day without wishing things had been different between them, but he's still hit hard by the sight of him.
Jared just stands there as the guests and bellhops and everyone else mills and throngs around him, and watches Jensen.
In Vancouver, Jared had gotten to thinking that Jensen couldn't be anything like as outright beautiful as he remembered. But the Jensen he has held in his memory does not do the genuine article justice. He'd forgotten the precise bow of Jensen's lips. And he'd forgotten the perfect lines of his body, strong shoulders down to narrow hips and obscenely bowed legs, he'd forgotten the gold L.A. sunlight catching the blond highlights in his styled hair. And though he hadn't forgotten how much he loved Jensen, he's not prepared for just how much it hurts to see him again.
The guy at Jensen's side is, like Chad said, one big, ugly motherfucker. He's wearing a suit that makes no attempt to hide the fact he's easily 250 pounds of muscle. Forty, maybe, though he could be a little younger, he's got his hand resting on Jensen's shoulder, almost like he's steering him. Neither he nor Jensen is smiling.
"Excuse me, sir?" a young woman says. Jared has been so fixed on watching Jensen that he hadn't even noticed her sidling up to his elbow. "You're Damian, from Rites, aren’t you? Could you sign this for my sister? We're both huge fans."
She's polite and friendly, not breathless with admiration but watching Jared more closely than one of the leads of a new TV show on a small network probably merits. Jared guesses he should be flattered, and he is while he quickly scribbles an autograph on the piece of paper the girl holds out to him. But then he looks back over at Jensen and realises that at some point while Jared was distracted, Jensen spotted him.
Their eyes meet for one second - just one second - and then, smooth and casual, Jensen looks away and keeps on walking. Jared isn't sure but, when he starts to stride in a direct line towards him to intercept him before he can get to the doors, he thinks Jensen might actually be speeding up in order to get away.
"Jensen," he says as he steps in front of him. Jared's gaze twitches from Jensen's face briefly as the new guy starts to move in front of Jensen, but then Jensen shakes his head and the guy stops.
Jensen looks at him, the smile at the corners of his lips ever so slightly strained, his expression just a little exasperated. Jared's not sure if that's worse than the blankness he was expecting.
"Shouldn't be seen talking to someone like me, Jay," he chides him lightly. "The gossip pages'll love it. Don't wanna hurt your career now it's taking off, right?"
"Fuck that," Jared says. "I don't care."
He finds he doesn't actually have anything to say to Jensen now he's got him here. Or… no, it's not that. It's that he has too much he wants to say and none of it can be said. So he just stands there and drinks in the sight of Jensen. Even more fucking perfect than Jared remembered. Jensen lets him, but he doesn't take his sunglasses off and Jared's working up the nerve to ask him to because he really wants to be reminded of the exact fucking beautiful shade of green of Jensen's eyes.
Then the new guy flexes his fingers on Jensen's shoulder and says, "C'mon, you got people expecting you."
A faint, rosy flush washes along Jensen's cheekbones, like shame or embarrassment and Jared can't work out why it should be either. Jensen nods at the guy and then directs an awkward smile at Jared - the first honest response to him Jared thinks he's seen Jensen give so far.
"Good seeing you, Jay," Jensen says, before he lets the guy walk him out of the hotel.
It takes Jared a while to get himself moving. Instead of taking the elevator up to Mack's room, Jared takes the stairs in the hopes he'll feel less disoriented and vaguely distressed by the encounter by the time he reaches Mack.
Mack is noticeably butt-naked when he opens the door to Jared. He gives him a shit-eating grin and grabs Jared for a bear hug, even though it's only four days since they last saw each other. Jared pats him on the shoulder because it feels like the only safe place to put his hands. When Mack lets go of him, Jared perches uncomfortably on the end of the unmade bed. The room smells and Jared hopes Mack isn't expecting that they hang around here.
"You should'a been here, man," Mack says, tugging on a t-shirt that Jared recognises as one of Nathan's from the costume department. There was a jacket of 'Damian's' that went missing too and Jared briefly considers checking Mack's luggage for it. "Was just getting into the festive season."
"Yeah?" Jared says. He glances around, notes the suspicious stains on the rumpled sheets on the bed and wishes he hadn't sat down. "Feel free to shut the hell up before we get anywhere near Too Much Information, yeah?"
Still way too naked for Jared to feel comfortable looking in his direction, Mack lights a cigarette and offers Jared the pack. With a short shake of his head, Jared declines and wonders whether Mack's gonna get round to putting his pants on any time soon.
"There's this guy, right?" Mack says. "I'm only on, like, my third time with him. The producer on my last show gave me his number, crazy, huh? But, man, I'm telling you… Worth. Every. Fucking. Cent."
Everything in the room takes on a different, unpleasant aspect. Jensen. It has to be. Jensen was coming down from here. Mack and Jensen fucked, right here on the bed Jared's sitting on, in the last hour. Abruptly, Jared can't take his eyes off Mack, like he's looking for some sign of Jensen on his skin. There's an instinctive surge of jealousy - resentment and bitterness that Mack so easily had an hour or maybe two with Jensen, and Jared had only had a painful few minutes.
Whatever the expression on Jared's face, it gives Mack pause. He jabs his cigarette towards Jared, trailing ash across the carpet.
"Don't tell me you're gonna pitch a fit 'cause I fucked a hooker? I so did not have you down as the prudish type. I don't have to pay for it but sometimes I just want uncomplicated sex with someone who knows how to get me off, you know?"
"Yeah," Jared says. It sounds faint and strangled, so he says it again, stronger. "Yeah." He catches the leer on Mack's face before Mack can even get he words out, and says, "And sorry, not jealous either. You'd have to pay me to get me in bed with you."
"Heh, about that," Mack says. At last, he starts pulling his jeans on. It feels like an excuse for him to not look at Jared's face as he talks. "Look, I've been thinking. Last show I was on, there were these two guys. And the fans really got off on the thought of them together. Y'know, together like butt-sexing. I mean, they totally weren't. One of 'em was even dating one of the girls in the cast. But the fans really loved it and… well, I was thinking, you and me, we're the hottest guys on Rites, right?"
Jared nods uncertainly, with an unsettled feeling where this is heading.
"So how about you and me play it up a little? Nothing too in your face, don't want your tongue down my throat, buddy, but a few little comments in interviews that could be taken either way, a lack of awareness about personal space… that kind of stuff. How about it?"
I'm not really comfortable playing on my sexuality like that. Seems a little sleazy, is what Jared intends to say. But at just the wrong moment, Mack tilts his head towards him and a shaft of sunshine washes softly over his collarbone and Jared sees the faintest pink-red graze of teeth. The memory of Jensen's mouth moving over his skin in hungry, sucking kisses, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he tries to keep his legs spread while Jared fucks him and fucks him and fucks him-
"Sure," is what Jared says.
:::
Chad has told him, in no uncertain terms, that this is a trap.
"Sure, it's just for publicity he's got his hand down your pants. And sure, he'll be doing it when there isn't any goddamn press around, 'cause he's just practising. Just like he'll 'spect you to practise having his dick in your mouth."
Jared is of the opinion that Chad is getting a little over-excited about the whole thing and refuses to discuss it with him any further.
In the cast's second week back on set after the holidays, a journalist comes to interview them. Mack throws down a copy of the magazine the piece'll appear in and smirks at Jared. Between them, they ensure that there are just enough pictures of them goofing off together to make an impression, and just enough comments about each other to be sure of making it into the article.
When the thing's printed a few days later, they read it in Mack's trailer between scenes. Jared leaves while Mack is delightedly searching the internet to see if the fans have decided they make a cute couple or not.
Jared reads the article again once he's back at his own place. There's a picture of him and Mack together, Mack's arm slung around his shoulders and his head tilted towards him as Jared plants a ridiculously pouting kiss on his temple. It's worked pretty well. They're just two guys being dorks together, but they're clearly comfortable getting up close.
He considers the magazine as a whole then, flipping back to the cover. Whether it's the kind of thing Jensen might read. Whether Jensen might still be hurting enough to avoid any mention of Jared in the press, or whether he's devouring any and all gossip he can find. Or maybe, Jensen'll pick it up and think Huh, there's that guy I used to fuck, for free. And he'll read the article and see that Jared's happy and maybe got someone in his life, and Jensen's still fucking miserable and lonely and being used by rich men as some kind of convenient toy.
Jared spends the rest of the night using a black sharpie to disfigure the picture of him and Mack, before he jerks off, hot and angry.
:::
"So," says Tom. "You and Mack Kennedy?"
He's trying very hard to hide the look of utter distaste on his face. Mike is nowhere near as diplomatic and cuffs Jared upside the head. Jared's drink splatters the tabletop and his jeans. Mike's expression says he is entirely unapologetic and Jared sighs and tries to dry himself off with a paper napkin.
"Have you suffered a complete collapse of your standards?" Mike demands. "What other crap have you added to your new list of interests, besides banging a manipulative Welling-wannabe?"
"It's just… dorking around for the cameras," Jared says. It sounds lame even to him.
"This is some heavy-duty dorking," Mike says and slaps down the latest edition of TV Week, the pages folded over to a picture of Jared carrying Mack on his shoulders through some puddles of rainwater, both of them laughing and clinging to each other. Jared flushes at the sight of it.
"Look, there's nothing wrong with Mack, in principle," says Tom. He palms his glass of tequila from one hand to the other. "But he's got his eyes on the prize. You're helping him get there right now. But if it starts to look like you're the bigger star - and you're gonna be because Mack's cute but he's hardly Robert de Niro when it comes to acting - then he will screw you over."
"He did everything he could to sabotage Tom's career after he lost that shitty little popularity contest to him," Mike says. His gaze slides briefly to Tom, something like concern in his eyes. That same look's still there when he directs his attention back to Jared and it's not the kind of thing Jared's used to getting from Mike, which makes him seriously consider whether perhaps he might have screwed up. "You've got things you don't want coming out, right?"
"I'm not ashamed of Jensen-" Jared starts to protest, his spine snapped ramrod straight.
"No, but is Jensen gonna be thrilled about having his name splashed all over the tabloids?" Tom says. "Just… be careful, Jared, okay?"
:::
"I've been talking to the scriptwriters and over the next couple of weeks, we're going to be seeing a lot of Damian and Anais together," says Rich, who's directing this episode. He's a short older guy, friendly, unless he's on set when he becomes a total shark. "So I wanna see you two building on that. They're the two youngest siblings, show me what that means. Let me see why Damian can let down the barriers around Anais, what he's getting from her."
Brooke raises an eyebrow and Jared's lips twitch. Rich catches both of it and he rolls his eyes, grinning.
"No, he's not getting that. We're talking about Damian and Anais, not Damian and Reid." As Jared's cheeks immediately go bright red, Rich's grin broadens. "Oh come on, Jared, we read the articles too. Can't open a magazine without finding a picture of you and Mack. The network's golden couple, right?" His tone says he's teasing, but there's anticipation there, like he's just waiting for Jared to confirm every stupid rumour he and Mack have encouraged to spring up.
Surprisingly though, Brooke smoothes her long blonde curls off her face, the green-lacquered nails looking incongruous on her small, sweet hands, and says, "Oh they're not really together. They're just friends." She shivers and rubs her bare arms. "Are we done? I'm freezing my ass off in this silly little dress they’ve put me in."
"You want my coat?" Jared says, shrugging it off. The air is full of drizzle and the wind spits it at them, sharp and stinging. It doesn't show up on screen so it doesn't hold up shooting but it’s fucking miserable being out in it. Jared's all right because he's been given layers to wear, including a heavy black jacket. Brooke, on the other hand, is wearing a mid-thigh outfit with a plunging neckline. It's a testament to her professionalism that you never see her trembling when they're filming. But with the cameras off, she looks in danger of turning blue.
Gratefully, she wraps herself up in Jared's coat, her petite frame totally lost in the fabric, and bats her lashes at Rich until he agrees that they can go. She and Jared walk in companionable silence back towards catering for some lunch. Jared cuts the length of his stride considerably and keeps alongside her.
"So, why are Damian and Anais so close?" Brooke says thoughtfully after a while. "Is it 'cause they're the youngest? There's no special bond between Reid and Klara as the eldest, is there?"
"Don’t think so," Jared says. He rubs his jaw and considers. "Damian called Anais in that episode when he went missing, didn't he?"
"Yeah. And Damian was the one Anais told when she thought that guy from town was using Klara to get into the house, right?" Brooke shrugs her shoulders. "So they're obviously on the same team, yeah? How are we gonna make it show?"
"Well, Damian doesn't really touch anyone else. Not aside from Becca but that's… well, that's all about the sexual tension. So, how about some brother-sister affection? I dunno, a hug?"
Brooke shakes her head. "Too much. Maybe an arm round the shoulders?"
Coming to a full halt, Jared turns to look at Brooke. He eyes her speculatively and she stands there and lets him, dark blue eyes fixed on him expectantly. While he watches her face for her reaction, he reaches out and knocks a curl of her hair back behind her shoulders. It's quickly done, barely touching at all, but it speaks of a certain intimacy, an easiness between them.
"Yeah. Perfect." She cocks her head on one side, still smiling. "I'm right, aren't I? You and Mack aren't really together, are you?" Even her tone makes the answer she's expecting clear.
"No," Jared admits, shoving his hands back in the pockets of his pants, his shoulders hunching tighter. "Just for publicity, y'know? Is that sleazy?"
"Yeah, a little," she says but her voice is gentle, sympathetic. "Everyone does it. But yeah, it's a little sleazy." She straightens out the cuffs of his coat and grins at him impishly. "Only reason I'm saying anything is 'cause sleazy doesn’t suit you."
That bothers him. Because she's right and because the speculation about whether Jensen's seen the pictures and read the articles, and whether he even cares that Jared has someone else is all just endlessly frustrating. So after Jared's eaten lunch with her and Justin (whom Jared suspects actually are a couple), he goes over to Mack's trailer. Mack's finished his scenes for the day, has had his shower and is getting ready to head off.
"I've been thinking," Jared says by way of greeting. He sits down on the tiny trailer couch and leans forwards, his forearms on his thighs. "I think we can cool things off. I mean, we've given the fans plenty to play with, right? And it's kind of getting in the way now."
"Is it?" Mack says. He takes a step towards Jared, his hands outstretched. "Has something happened?"
"No. No, it's nothing like that. I just… I don't see the point in playing it up anymore. Everyone's convinced we're secretly having some big gay romance." Jared scrapes his fingers through his rain-damp hair. "It was fine when it was just, y'know, jokes and shit. But now… it's starting to feel like lying. I don't wanna be lying to people, Mack. Not my co-stars, not the fans. Okay?"
The look Mack gives him is, for the briefest second, deeply unnerving. Then Mack shrugs and Jared can almost convince himself he imagined the gleam of intensity in Mack's eyes a moment ago, because Mack's all easy-going, good-natured agreement. He claps Jared on the shoulder and laughs.
"Sure, man, if it's bothering you. Hell, we've done our thing. And like you said, everyone's convinced." He catches Jared's face in his hands and drops a ridiculously sloppy kiss on Jared's forehead. "You've been awesome about this whole thing. Really. I'm fucking grateful. You're gonna have to let me do something for you. I dunno, throw you a party or something?"
"No, it's cool," Jared says, all easy relief. "We're fine. It's been good for both of us. Hell, half the journalists who've come up here have only wanted to talk to you and me. You don't owe me anything."
"No way," says Mack. He straightens up and picks up his jacket. "I'm gonna give you one hell of a thank-you present."
part nine