J2 Big Bang Fic - The Protocols of Friendship Part 1
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The club is small and overheated and the pounding music is so loud it's reverberating in Jensen's teeth. The tables are packed tight in the too small space and he's currently wedged half against a wall and the seat beside him, the back of his own uber-modern chrome chair digging painfully into one of his kidneys. Steve's friend, and damned if he can remember the guy's name, is sprawled beside him to his right, Jared's currently empty chair to his left.
Next to him (Gary, Garth?) lets out a drunken whoop and slams the empty shot glass back onto the table. He raises his arms to share his victory with no-one (because whatever drinking contest he's currently participating in, he's definitely the only entrant), and lets out a loud, hugely extended, belch. He raises his arms again to pump his fists triumphantly in the air.
His left hand's still half raised, looking vaguely like he's trying to hail a cab, when he turns towards Jensen. He lurches forward to grab at Jensen's shirt sleeve with his right and hangs on tight, a look of slack-jawed wonder on his features.
"Dude, dude. Did you hear that?"
Jensen grimaces and claps him on the shoulder, surreptitiously dislodging his grip from his sleeve at the same time. "Sure did... buddy. Good work."
Jensen edges away, examining his palm unhappily, which seems to have picked up something worryingly sticky from the brief contact with (Barry, Bart's?) hand. He grabs a damp napkin from the table and rubs ineffectually at his sticky hand with the even stickier serviette. When the paper begins to shred, he gives in with a huff, and looks up to find Steve grinning widely at him from the other side of the table.
"Having fun yet, Jenny?"
"Awesome. The music sucks, it's cramped as hell, and this guy-" (Larry, Mart?) lets out a weird little giggle and crumples against Jensen's side, immediately beginning to snore loudly. "-is about as much fun as syphilis. Seriously, Steve, who is he?"
Steve shakes his head, still grinning. "No clue. I thought he was with you?"
Jensen lets out a string of curses, mostly aimed at Steve, and carefully props Belchy back up in his seat. With a cautious shove of his leg, he turns the chair away from their table and over to the one behind them. Fuckers have been jabbing him in the ribs all night whenever they got up to stampede towards the minuscule dance floor, and never once said sorry. Let them deal with him.
He settles back in his chair to glare over at Steve. "And don't call me that, asshole."
Steve laughs uproariously, plainly still buzzing from the gig he'd played earlier, the reason Jensen and Jared were in town. The numerous shots Steve's indulged in since they reached the club, egged on by Chris and the others who were now also MIA along with Jared, have probably played a part, too.
Jensen bites back a sigh. He's getting too old for this shit.
"You're getting old, man." Steve, who's now apparently a mind-reader, shouts. "I've heard it's what happens when you set up home with your honey - you start nesting, although it's a little early considering you haven't even moved in yet."
Jensen cocks his head, not sure if he's misheard. "What?"
Steve opens his mouth to bellow back a response, and then stands up and drags his chair over to Jensen's side of the table. "You and Jared moving in together," he says, once he's seated again. "Settling down with your... boyfriend? Wife?" He grins. "What do you call him anyway?"
"What? No! I mean, he isn't... we aren't. Jared and me, we're just friends. I needed somewhere to stay, you know that."
"Yeah, but rumor is you fancy TV stars earn more than minimum wage now. It's not like you were going to be out on the streets when Tim sold up and left you homeless. Plus, it's fucking Canada, man. What do houses even go for up there?" He shrugs away his own question. "Point is, if you can't afford to rent or buy in Canada, your agent's probably screwing you royally."
Jensen struggles to come up with a response for why he's moving in with Jared, which is crazy. He'd already gone over all the reasons for agreeing to it back when Jared had offered and he'd agreed, and it had all made perfect sense at the time.
More or less.
Because maybe it is a little odd at their age to be house-sharing. And sure, Steve's right that money isn't a problem, but Vancouver is still only temporary so what's the point in buying? Renting's really the only sensible solution, and that's basically what he's going to be doing. Jared's gonna be his landlord, just like Tim had been. A landlord who he works with, lives with and spends most of his free time with. Nothing weird there. Still...
"It's no different than with Tim."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "It's completely different. Tim was hardly ever at home even when he lived there permanently, and for the last couple of years he's spent more time up in LA than he has in Canada. You've basically been living alone for the past eighteen months with a friend coming by to visit maybe one weekend in six."
"Yeah, but it was still apartment sharing," Jensen protests, "so nothing's really changed apart from the fact I'm out on my ass now. What's the point in buying somewhere when I don't know how much longer I'll be in Canada for? It's not like I'm gonna hang around after the show's finished, which could be any time, and it'd just be a huge pain having to sell something afterwards. Plus, you know how fucking crazy the housing market is right now; buying makes no sense."
Jensen really hopes Steve doesn't ask any follow-up questions to that statement, because he frankly has no real clue how crazy or otherwise the property market is right then. All he knows for sure is that his paired and settled friends seem to be constantly bitching about the hit they've taken lately. His own condo in LA has been sublet since the second season, and the letting agent takes care of pretty much everything. As far as Jensen is concerned, other than him not having a place of his own to stay in when he goes back to LA, the housing market is ticking along nicely.
Steve nods agreeably though, which either means he's of the same opinion or just as clueless as Jensen. Probably the latter considering how much time he spends on the road.
"Anyway, with our work schedules and the amount of actual time off we get, I'll barely see anymore of Jared at home than I did Tim." For some reason, now that he's managed to come up with an explanation, Jensen feels compelled to keep throwing out reasons until Steve admits he's right. From the look on Steve's face, it doesn't seem like that's going to be happening any time soon.
"So you don't want to buy, I get that; nothing stopping you renting, man. Unless, of course, the real reason is you just want to set up home with the love of your life," Steve adds, tilting his head and miming a kissy face with ridiculous amounts of tongue. "All without the press catching on or your agent ripping you a new one because Hollywood only allows five openly gay actors to be working at once, and we all know none of those fuckers are giving up their spots any time soon."
Jensen freezes as Steve rambles on. He feels utterly exposed, as if Steve has just casually reached over and opened up his chest. And then called everyone to gather round and take a look.
"Plus," Jensen tunes back in to hear Steve saying cheerfully, "sex on tap, dude. Christ knows what you horny bastards get up to now you've got all that privacy. It's probably like a porno Wild Kingdom in there once you lock the doors." Steve toasts him with his beer and then lifts the bottle to his lips to take a long swallow. Jensen attempts what he knows will be a weak grin, but gives it up when he realizes Steve isn't even looking at him.
Love of his life? Is he that fucking obvious? Shit. Does Jared know?
His stomach rolls sickly. The ribs he'd eaten earlier churning unpleasantly with the beer and tequila he's had since they've arrived at the club, all threatening to make an unwanted repeat appearance.
Deep down, he's known for a long time that his feelings for Jared are more than just the love of a best friend, more than inconvenient lust for an insanely hot body. Jensen's never claimed to be a monk, but sometimes it feels like that's exactly what he'd need to be not to find Jared attractive. And it would be a big ask even then. So, up until now, he's almost always been able to explain away the occasional urge to rip his best friend's clothes off and wrestle him to the nearest flat surface, as a consequence of being human.
Love though, the kind of love Steve's talking about, is something else.
Something he hasn't allowed himself to admit to, because he knows Jared doesn't feel the same way. And also because refusing to bring it out into the open for examination means their relationship can continue on without the awkwardness a one-sided attraction would bring.
Without the complications of emotion, their friendship, which is the most important thing in his life at the moment, and which he depressingly suspects always will be, is safe and can happily be played out in the public eye. Sure they've had their share of crazy fans convinced they were secretly fucking, and, okay, sometimes it feels like a cruel cosmic joke when Jared plays along with it, laughing face and huge warm arms wrapped around him. But Jensen can cope with it as long as he doesn't start believing it himself.
He can be in love with Jared as long as Jared never knows and as long as Jensen never admits he does either.
The sharp sound of a bottle clanking back onto the table pulls him from his panicked thoughts and Jensen looks up to find Steve staring at him. Something in his expression must have given him away because Steve isn't looking so amused any more. He leans forward, his shoulder brushing too warm and too close. Suddenly all Jensen wants is to escape the noise and the heat and the worried eyes of his friend.
"Jensen?"
"It's cool, man, just freaking hot in here."
"Don't even try, fucker." Steve pauses and glances around, looking concerned for the first time that someone might be listening in. That's pretty much the only thing Jensen isn't worried about right now. The music is as loud as ever and the chances of them being overhead are practically zero, unless the eavesdropper decides to sit themselves down on one of their laps.
Satisfied they're alone, but with new cautiousness, Steve drags his chair a few inches closer. "So what's going on; did the two of you break up? Is that what's got you all bent out of shape?"
"Jesus, Steve, will you just fucking stop?" Jensen snaps, no longer willing to pretend he's okay with this. "We aren't together, we've never been together, we're never going to be together." He angles himself awkwardly away from Steve and sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, feeling weak and stupid and raw. "Jared is straight."
Steve edges forward again, ignoring the "Keep Out!" signs Jensen is posting in an imaginary circle around himself and the too small chair he's sitting in. "Are you serious? I mean, I know I don't get to see you and Jared together all that much, but you guys act like-"
"Friends. We act like friends, because that's what we are."
Steve lets out a low laugh. "Friends? Chris ever tried to hump my leg in public he'd have my foot up his ass before the first camera went off. There certainly wouldn't be enough photographic evidence available to have whole websites dedicated to it. "
Jensen waves his hand in dismissal. "That's just Jared. He gets carried away sometimes. And the fans are crazy. It doesn't mean anything."
"Sure, the kid's a human octopus and hyperactive puppy rolled into one giant mutant freak, but even so, the two of you together? I'm not seeing just friends, Jensen, I'm really not."
"Yeah?" Jensen smiles bitterly. "Well, I guess you're just gonna have to trust me on this one."
Steve stares deep into his eyes and Jensen holds his gaze, not bothering to try and hide what he's feeling; it's too late for that now. Steve's the first to look away. He lets out a heavy sigh and reaches for his beer.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Jensen, I really thought you two were-" he makes an obscene gesture with the bottle he's holding. "Well, you know," he finishes apologetically when Jensen looks awkwardly away. Steve lifts the bottle again to take a pull on it this time, and then pauses to eye it consideringly before lowering it carefully back to the table with a grimace.
Jensen closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose tightly between his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah, I know."
He's often had the vague hope that maybe the feelings he has for Jared are magnified by his refusal to properly examine them. That maybe exposed to the light of day they'd seem less substantial, less real. He's been reluctant to test his hypothesis though, and so has carried on in (semi) blissful ignorance, the question left to nag away at him only during the darkest hours of the night when sleep is completely beyond him, and the person lying next to him is the wrong shape, the wrong size, the wrong sex.
Well, wonder no more, comes a mocking voice from within. His feelings are apparently like a fire denied oxygen. The sudden opening of the door holding them sealed tight inside has turned the banked flames into an inferno, and he's already feeling the painful burn scorching at the dry tinder of his heart.
"So does Jared know how you feel?"
Jensen jerks his hand away from his face, his jaw clenching painfully. "No, and I swear to God, Steve, if you say a fucking word-"
"Easy, man," Steve murmurs reassuringly. "He won't hear it from me. I was just curious."
"Sorry. It's just... This is hard enough as it is. It'd be a million times worse if Jared knew, Christ if he even suspected..."
"You think Jared would have a problem with you being gay?"
Jensen shakes his head, sure of that at least. "No, of course not. I think he'd have a slight problem with his best friend wanting to jump him, but liking guys? No."
"So why haven't you told him?"
"Because what's the point?" Jensen doesn't mention that he hadn't even admitted it to himself fully until five minutes ago. There's only so much pathetic he can handle in one night. "I know he's not into guys, so it never came up. And I'm not gay."
"Dude," Steve bumps Jensen's shoulder with his own. "We've been friends forever, and, more importantly, used to share an adjoining bedroom wall back when we were poor and actually couldn't afford to live alone. I know you've never had a problem riding the other bus if it was heading to your stop."
Jensen feels a surprised laugh escape him. "Fuck you, Carlson," he says without any real heat. "You always were a nosy bastard. And yeah, okay, maybe I'm bi, but it's been a while and truth is it's only been women for the last seven years or so, so my membership's kinda lapsed. Well, except for..."
Steve nods thoughtfully. In the pause, the music changes. The crowd lets out a muffled roar of approval, and there's a sudden mass exodus of the tables around them as everybody attempts to find space on the cramped dance floor. Jensen turns to watch; warm, laughing bodies crammed happily together, and he realizes a little sadly he doesn't even recognize the song.
Jensen feels a nudge against his arm, and turns back to Steve, grateful for the distraction.
"You know, you could be completely right about this and Jared doesn't feel the same way as you, but are you sure there's no chance he's not at least bi, too?" He cocks an eyebrow when Jensen shakes his head. "'Cause, c'mon we've all seen his clothes, and I know damn well he doesn't have a stylist, which means those wardrobe choices are all on him."
"You make a good point," Jensen concedes, tapping a finger against his lower lip thoughtfully. Steve's been patient as hell for long enough and he doesn't deserve to have to deal with Jensen acting like a mopey bastard all night. "Plus he does watch a lot of Project Runway. Think he might even Tivo it."
"Interesting, but not conclusive," Steve decides after a long drawn-out moment of consideration. "What we need to know is whether he's jerking off to Heidi Klum or Tim Gunn."
Jensen gives a small shudder. "Gross."
"Yeah, but which one?"
Jensen grins and lifts his own beer to tap the bottle neck to Steve's. "Thanks, man."
Steve shakes his head. "No thanks needed," he says quietly, "but do me a favor and just think about this: The way you two are together, the way Jared acts around you? That's more than just friends. It's like he... gravitates towards you, and once he's got you, he grabs on tight and doesn't let go."
Jensen ducks his head. He's still listening, but avoiding eye contact because he can't be sure the flicker of hope he can feel creeping through him won't be visible if he does. Steve pauses then, weighing his next words.
"I know how close you are, and how important he is to you, and I get why you wouldn't want to risk that. But, Jensen, sitting around, pining for him? Wondering? That's the surest damn way to make yourself miserable. Eventually, you're gonna start to resent him and not want to be around him and then you'll have lost him anyway. Wouldn't it be worth taking that chance?"
Jensen bites hard on his lip, and lets his eyes wander over to the bar, where Jared had vanished to what seems like hours ago now. He spots him almost immediately; guy's ten fucking feet tall - no one's gonna need to start calling Jensen Hawkeye any time soon.
At first he can't figure out why Jared doesn't seem any closer to being served than he was the last time Jensen looked; half a dozen times immediately after he'd left the table, and then not at all since Steve split him open with his questions.
He watches, his chest tightening painfully with familiar, although usually unacknowledged, want, as Jared suddenly tilts his head back, mouth open wide with laughter. The club is too loud and Jared too far away to make out the sound, but Jensen can easily imagine it. Can already see his hair flopping messily around his forehead, his tanned throat exposed and oddly vulnerable.
Jensen drops his gaze lower, and belatedly notices the gaggle of excited, chattering women surrounding Jared, the obvious cause of the laughter he's just witnessed. Another crowd of customers swarms towards the bar, and instead of moving forward to place his order, Jared takes a step away. It's plainly not for the first time given the speed everyone around him is getting served. Apparently he doesn't want to be distracted from the giggling women, all wearing brightly colored scraps of nothing and looking like hot Lilliputians surrounding an even hotter Gulliver. Jensen's gaze sharpens as a tiny brunette slides her hand up Jared's forearm to gain his attention. Jared leans in close, bent almost double to listen to her, his eyes gleaming brightly as he listens to what is apparently the funniest shit known to man.
Jensen swallows hard and turns back to Steve to find him watching him with something like pity.
"Jared's straight," he says, as calmly as he can. "Doesn't matter how I feel or what I say, that's not going to change."
"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't." Steve shrugs. "Point is, man, you'll know."
Yeah, he will, Jensen admits to himself wearily, and that's what he's afraid of most.
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Part 2