J2 Big Bang Fic: The Protocols of Friendship Part 5
Back to Chapter 4
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"Yo, Jay, isn't that your douchey other half over there by the buffet?"
Jared bites down hard on his lip and stares grimly at the drink in his hand, cheap plastic fashioned to look like a glass, but the free booze is going down well enough that he isn't going to complain.
When he doesn't immediately respond, Chad jabs him hard in the stomach with a bony elbow. Jared grunts; Chad's upper body strength is pretty impressive given his scrawny outward appearance.
"Yeah, man, I think it is- Hey! He's with some other fucking dude!"
Chad's outraged voice sends Jared's head swinging up, but a sudden surge of party goers blocks his view of the food tables across the room, even with the extra inches he has on most of the people there.
He knew Jensen would probably make an appearance at the party, because it's a CW event and attendance isn't really optional. But despite the mixture of eagerness and terror that's been churning in his stomach all day at the prospect of seeing Jensen again, he hasn't allowed himself to look for him since he'd arrived an hour ago. He's so sick of being disappointed, and a tiny part of him is hoping Jensen might track him down instead.
Chad elbows him again. "What the fuck, man? I thought you said you two homos were, like, in a committed relationship or shacking up or what-the-fuck-ever?"
"Chad," Jared finally hisses. "Keep your goddamn voice down! I never said we were in a relationship, I told you, in confidence that we'd kissed and I'd screwed it all up." He jams his clenched fists into his pockets and resists the urge to get up on his tiptoes for a better look, because who the hell is Jensen here with? "And I wouldn't have told you that if you hadn't poured half a bottle of tequila down my throat and started playing 20 questions."
"Well, excuse-fucking-me for trying to help!" Chad says, offended. "You were whining like a little bitch about how you'd ruined everything and Jensen wouldn't talk to you," he says, putting on an implausibly high pitched feminine voice. "And then wouldn't tell me what you'd done, or do the decent thing and shut the fuck up about it. And I didn't force anything down your lame-ass throat, but even if I did, it's sure as hell not my fault you can't handle your liquor. Pussy."
Jared turns apologetic eyes on Chad, because Chad has been a good friend, in his own way, since Jared arrived on his doorstep, morose and barely speaking, four days earlier. Granted, his way mostly involves keeping Jared permanently half smashed, but given how down he'd felt before he got there, that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Chad had also allowed him to spend most of his first two days visiting glued to the computer in his tiny office-come-panic room, (which had roused Jared briefly from his dejection long enough to mock, because a baseball bat, a privacy lock and a giant bag of Funions, so didn't make a panic room) watching videos of him and Jensen at conventions and doing interviews and appearing at random events.
At first seeing the two of them together, relaxed and obviously happy, had lifted his spirits. But the longer he watched, the more depressed he became, because he could see so clearly now what he'd turned down without thought, and what he was beginning to fear he might never be given the chance to have again.
Jared doesn't know what exactly Chad can see in his expression, but it must be pretty pitiful because he relents immediately.
"Look, don't sweat it; I got a good look at the other guy. He's only about half your size - we can take the tiny fucker easy."
Chad puts down his drink on a nearby ledge and rolls up the sleeves of his jacket, looking like he's about to spring into action in a high school production of West Side Story.
"Are you out of your mind?" Jared snaps. He reaches out to grab Chad by a spindly wrist and drags him back to stand beside him. "I'm not beating up some stranger, who hasn't done anything to me, by the way, in the middle of a press party because he may or may not be on a date with my best friend!"
"Yeah, you're probably right," Chad concedes thoughtfully, and Jared lets out a sigh of relief. Premature as it turns out. "That's quick thinking, Jay. Okay, new plan; we wait 'till he goes to take a piss. I'll follow him and tell him Jensen's outside and needs to see him - maybe mention a blow job or something; that'll put a rocket up his ass. Meanwhile you go and check the alley out back to see if there are any windows overlooking it or press stationed around it. Now, if you suspect we've been compromised-"
"Chad."
"Yeah, man?"
"Let's just keep that plan on the back burner for now, 'kay?"
"Yeah? I don't know, Jared. You wanna keep your girl, well guy, you giant fagosaur, you gotta mark your territory; like a lion pissing on a she-lion."
Jared raises bewildered eyebrows. "A sea-lion?"
"What? No, a she lion. A female lion, you tool."
"That would be a lioness. And I'm pretty sure they don't do that."
"Whatever." Chad shrugs. "I don't spend my Saturday nights cuddling with my boyfriend in front of the fucking Discovery Channel. I'm telling you, man, that dick needs to know you're in the picture, and you need to get with the fucking programme."
Jared pulls an apologetic face that seems to mollify Chad, and his scowl fades. "Okay, I'm gonna be honest with you here, and it pains me to say it 'cause he doesn't need his head swelled any more than it already is, but Ackles is fucking hot. I mean, you know getting it on with a dude didn't make it onto my list of 30 Sexy Things To Do Before I'm 30-"
Jared shudders because he does know; the list is scary and he'd sincerely hoped to never have to give it head space again.
"-but I'd probably do him. I wouldn't, obviously, 'cause I know you're into monogamy and all that shit, but what I'm saying is, someone who wasn't your friend? Would hit that in a heartbeat."
"Thanks, man." Jared nods solemnly. "Means a lot to me that you'd restrain yourself like that."
"What are friends for," Chad says, waving away his thanks. "But seriously, what's your plan here?"
And that, Jared thinks morosely, is the million dollar question. Since Jensen's disappearance to LA and Jared's conversation with Megan and subsequent porn epiphany, they've played phone tag, and Jared knows damn well Jensen doesn't have enough going on that they'd miss each other as often as they have if it wasn't intentional.
All his actual phone calls have gone straight to voicemail, but Jensen did answer two of his texts after the first one, both to say he wasn't going to be able to meet up with Jared at either of the places or times he'd suggested. When Jared tried getting Jensen to pick a date and place that suited him, there was sudden radio silence. That had been over a week ago, and Jared's still feeling pretty pissed about it. Not enough to not want to see Jensen, though, obviously.
He's immediately rewarded by the thought when the ebb and flow of the crowds part and he suddenly has Jensen directly in his sights.
Jensen is facing the opposite direction to the corner he and Chad currently occupy and he's leaning down, listening intently to some blond, pretty-boy out of work actor (probably) who barely reaches his shoulders.
Jared feels himself tensing, the weird possessiveness he's been experiencing lately, added to Chad's insane, adrenalin pumping encouragement, washing over him to leave his chest tight and breathless.
The scrawny guy takes a step closer. Jared shifts his weight on his feet and waits with bated breath for Jensen to move away as he usually does when someone he doesn't know invades his space. To his dismay, Jensen holds fast.
Either the guy isn't a stranger or Jensen has no objections to him making a move on him. Wait, is that what's going on? He'd kissed Jared, who was in no way short and anemic looking, so why now out of the blue were scrawny little twinks his type? He has a sudden depressing realization that he actually has no idea what Jensen's type is when it comes to guys. Maybe Jared is the aberration.
Across the room, Jensen throws his head back in laughter and the short guy steps even closer. What's he trying to do? Stand on Jensen's shoes so he can dance him round the room like a kid at a fucking wedding?
He eyes the pair of them narrowly. Chad's right; he can totally take him.
"So you gonna go over there and sort that fucker out?" Chad demands, impatience beginning to creep into his voice. "Or just try and set them on fire with your laser-beam eyes?"
Oh, yeah, he's just standing here in silence staring at Jensen. Not weird at all. And the laser beam thing is a total bust.
Jared sets his glass down on a passing waiter's tray, not taking his eyes off Jensen and his midget, but at that moment, a woman joins them. Jared feels sweet relief swamp him as the short guy wraps an arm around her shoulders and bends to kiss her on the lips. The two of them stand now, chatting to Jensen who seems just as relaxed and happy to see the newcomer.
"Shit, dude, little guy wasn't into your boy after all! Lucky we didn't take him out back."
Jared winces, and raises a shaky hand to rub at his face. He's pretty sure he wouldn't have done anything, but not completely sure and that really isn't sitting well with him. Because, Christ, what's he turning in to?
"Oh, my God! Jesus, Jared, this is so not your night!"
"What...?" Jared trails off, because he's just seen it too. The blond and his partner have vanished from beside Jensen, and he's now been joined by another man, who definitely isn't pale or scrawny and who has his arm resting around Jensen's shoulders as he steers him towards a corner of the room.
"Fuck," he hisses, and manages to drag his gaze away from the pair to stare down at Chad. "Do you know who it is?"
Chad nods. "Kerr Smith - I've worked with him before. I think Jensen has, too," he says, looking pitying again. "He's okay."
"Think we could take him?" Jared asks, half serious.
"You know I got your back, man."
"I thought you liked him?"
Chad shrugs. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I won't help you beat the crap out of him if you ask me to."
Jared feels an inappropriate flare of gratitude. At least Chad won't ever turn his world upside down and then abandon him, and he can always count on him to act like an asshole if it's to help out a friend. Or if it's a day of the week that ends in a 'y'.
"Nah. Thanks anyway, but I think I can handle this one myself." Jared draws himself up, and claps Chad squarely on the back as he starts across the floor. Chad grunts as he's forced to take a stumbling step forward.
"Fucker."
Jared pauses to smile hollowly back at him. "Love you too, man."
"I know it," Chad grumbles, trying to hide his pleased expression behind a scowl. "But you're still gonna have to keep it in your pants, Padalecki; you're the only one officially switching teams in this relationship, and you might be rockin' the whole hulk vibe, but you sure as hell ain't no Jensen Ackles."
Jared feels his smile edge into something more real, and he reaches back to land an even harder cuff to the back of Chad's head. His resulting squawk of distress seems more to do with the disruption to his spiky hairstyle than any actual pain.
Every trace of amusement is long gone by the time Jared reaches Jensen. Smith is still standing far too close, but no longer has an arm wrapped wrapped around Jensen. The resulting relief allows him to take a moment to study the other man, instead of blindly charging in as he'd planned. If the red mist of anger and jealousy that's been swamping him can be called a plan, of course. Smith is around Jensen's height, good looking, if you like that kind of thing, with dark hair and a goatee beard. He looks confident and relaxed, and Jared hates him on sight.
Now that he's finally almost in touching distance of Jensen, Jared pauses, uncertain what his next step should be. If Jensen blows him off in front of this guy, he doesn't know how well he'll handle it. He hesitates for a moment longer, feeling like a coward but not quite scared enough to actually walk away, when Jensen spots him. He grins, wide and happy, when their eyes meet and Jared feels a dizzying jolt of relief that almost threatens to make his knees buckle.
"Jared! Hey!"
Jensen straightens and moves towards him, but Jared's stride is longer, and, okay, maybe he's jogging, just a little. He reaches Jensen before he's barely taken a step, and then halts, awkward again.
His first instinct is to pull Jensen into a hug, as he would have done a couple of months ago, but after everything that's happened in the past few weeks, he no longer has any idea how Jensen will react to that, even after the smiling welcome.
Luckily, it seems that Jensen has no such doubts, because he steps forward and pulls Jared in tight. Jared sucks in a shaken breath and then returns the hug with interest, his arms tight and gripping firmly to Jensen's sides. He gets a waft of cologne, and another, more elusive, scent that's just Jensen and basks in the warmth and comfort, feeling stupidly emotional and holding it all together with difficulty.
Jensen again doesn't seem to be suffering from the same problem, because he lets out a soft huff of laughter and lifts his arm to whack Jared on the back of the head.
"It's good to see you too, man," he says with soft amusement, "but I think this is maybe a little extreme even for us - not like you've just been rescued from the high seas."
Jared squeezes Jensen tight one more time in retribution and relief. Jensen whuffs in pain at the smooshing, and Jared hides a watery grin against the side of his head.
Jared pulls back to examine Jensen closely. He looks good; more than good. The soft lighting in the room is making his skin glow, freckles dusting his cheekbones with soft brown flecks, and bleaching the tips of hair with gold. He's wearing a black button-down shirt, and artfully distressed jeans that mold sinfully soft to his slightly bow-legs. Jared raises his eyes quickly back up to Jensen's, not wanting to get caught staring like some sort of pervert, but Jensen's still just looking pleased to see him.
"Can we talk?" Jared demands immediately, and levels a pointed look at Smith.
"Uh, sure," Jensen agrees, sounding slightly more cautious now. He turns to Smith who makes a shrugging nod at the bar. "Oh, by the way, Kerr, Jared, Jared, Kerr."
Smith holds out his hand, and Jared makes his grip especially tight. Smith doesn't flinch, although his gaze sharpens thoughtfully. Jared does his best to hide his disgruntlement at the lack of a reaction, and smiles back from between clenched teeth. Smith just looks even more thoughtful.
"I'll leave you two to catch up," he says, extracting his hand carefully. "Can I get anyone a drink?"
Jared shakes his head tightly, and Jensen holds up the tall glass he's got in his hand, still three quarters full.
"Okay then," Smith says, "see you in a minute."
A minute? Jared feels his face scrunching into a scowl, but tries to smooth out the frown before he turns back towards Jensen, who's looking slightly less relaxed, biting on the edge of his lip, and rolling the ice around his glass nervously. Jared is momentarily distracted by the sight of Jensen's straight white teeth scoring deep into his plump lower lip, and he has to fight back the urge to duck down and soothe the sting with his tongue.
He becomes abruptly aware he's leaning in to Jensen's personal space, more than he's been allowed to in weeks, when Jensen coughs and takes a tiny step back. Jared forces himself not to follow him, but purposely doesn't move away either. He doesn't want Jensen to feel crowded, exactly, but he feels a deep need thrumming through him to keep him close, within touching distance, and preferably actually touching. He's willing to let Jensen set the pace, though, because they're talking almost normally for the first time in what seems like forever, and also because the distance between them is pretty much all his fault in the first place.
"Look, Jay," Jensen says, his voice quick and low. "I was hoping you'd be here. I was gonna call, but it seemed like it should be in person. I wanted to say- I mean I'm-" he pauses and takes a long gulp of his drink. "Sorry. I wanted to say I'm sorry," he finishes more strongly. "I've been an asshole-"
"No, Jensen, you haven't-"
"Yeah, I have. We both know it, and, you know, I've got no excuse; you're my best friend, man, and I shouldn't have pulled that crap on you."
"Seriously, Jensen-"
"Please, let me just get this out." Jensen raises his glass to his lips again, looking a little less like he's about to bolt, but his expression still determined and not inviting interruption. "I misread the signs, and I know I should have known better than that, or at least accepted how you felt once I did know, but I was stupid and listened to someone else... No, that's not fair, but... I guess I was just seeing what I wanted to see and ignoring all the evidence that didn't fit with that. Or maybe I've just been avoiding this side of myself for too long and it just, I don't know," he makes an awkward fluttering motion with his hands, "exploded out or something, and you got caught in the cross fire. Shit," he slows from his rapid-fire delivery to say. "Doesn't even matter now. Point is you've been draping yourself all over me for years - if there was anything more to it than a pathological inability to respect personal boundaries," he smiles, small but real, "I think we both probably would have figured it out before now."
Jared feels his heart stutter in his chest at the almost calm acceptance in Jensen's voice. He doesn't want Jensen to be okay with this, he doesn't want him taking it back now that he's finally gotten things straight in his own head. Everything is going wrong, and the terrifying thought that he might not be able to fix it, is making him panic and freeze up. His words are failing him, and he doesn't know what to say to even begin to make things right.
"Jensen," he manages on a shaky exhalation of breath. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk about. Pretty much the opposite in fact." He raises a hand to brush the hair away from his face, where it's flopping into his eyes as sweat begins beading at his hairline.
Jensen takes another long drink, and Jared licks his lips thirstily, because a huge shot of alcohol wouldn't go amiss just then.
Jensen raises an encouraging eyebrow when Jared doesn't continue. "The opposite?"
"Yeah," Jared begins, dragging his focus back into place like he would for a big audition, the most important audition of his life, because he needs to convince Jensen he's serious and that he wants this. That he's never going to stop wanting this now.
"Because I've- I've been thinking too, but I've been thinking that you were right. I have been, like, all over you for years. I mean, really all over you; and I've been doing some research. Lots actually," he amends with a soft huff of air, "and some of it was scary, but most of it wasn't. Do you have any idea how many videos there are of us on the Internet. Not TV us," he explains when Jensen just looks lost by the apparent non sequitur, "convention and personal appearances us, and photos. Christ, you wouldn't believe how many photos there are, Jen," warm pleasure clouds his voice at the memory. "And if I didn't know us? I would assume, well, exactly what you did. And about a million screaming fangirls, apparently," he adds wryly, and risks a glance at Jensen, only to find him shaking his head now and looking a little dazed.
When the silence drags on, Jared refuses to think what it might mean. He grabs Jensen's elbow instead, and herds him towards the edge of the room, where they'll be slightly out of view behind a pillar. And where, hopefully, when the minute is up, Smith won't be able to find them.
Jensen moves slowly despite Jared's urging, favoring his left leg slightly. Jared frowns down at him, but Jensen doesn't seem inclined to talk and Jared's reluctant to push his luck further, because at least Jensen's still listening, even if he isn't saying much.
Over the short distance, Jared twice has to steer Jensen back on course; once when he sets off towards a waiter to exchange his empty glass for a full one, and then when he tries to divert again to intercept another waiter with a tray of crab puffs.
By the time he has Jensen tucked securely between himself, the pillar and a plant almost as tall he is, Jared's feeling decidedly fraught. Jensen reaches his hand out to offer Jared the remaining pastry, and Jared quickly shakes his head. He wants to grab the damn thing from Jensen and grind it into the carpet with his shoe, but reminds himself he's in this position because of his own stubborn refusal to face what was right in front of him all along. His attempts to remain calm take another battering when Jensen shrugs unworriedly and pops the dainty morsel into his own mouth. He chews with relish and takes a gulp of his drink to wash it down.
"So, what I just said," Jared presses, impatience warring with fear. "Do you think that- What do you think, Jensen?"
Jensen mumbles something, his attention focussed on wiping his hands on the paper serviette.
Jared frowns and leans forward, feeling a shiver low down in his stomach when Jensen doesn't move away this time.
"What did you say?"
Jensen crumples the serviette into a ball and throws it over his shoulder. It hits the back of a passing waiter, who thankfully doesn't break stride. "Huh?" Jensen glances up at Jared and blinks as though surprised to see him. "Oh, I think we should just be friends."
"What?" Jared feels his heart lurch sickly in his chest, and a wash of bile hits the back of his throat. He takes another step forward until the tips of their shoes are touching and he's close enough to feel the warmth of Jensen's breath against his cheek.
"Yeah, I think that," Jensen says, with two very slow nods.
"Jensen, look, I know I was the one who wasn't sure-"
"'Cause I can get sex anywhere," Jensen continues as though Jared hasn't spoken, forming each word carefully. "Lots of people think I'm hot. Did you know that? Lots of people. Girls, guys... well it's really just girls and guys, but there are a lot of them." He grins, wide and a little goofy. "It's pretty freakin' cool."
"Jen, what the hell-"
"But you're my best friend." He jabs Jared in the chest with his index finger. "And there's only one of you, and I get it; no means no, so I'm not gonna mess it up by acting like a little bitch."
"Jensen, wait, let's think about this- "
"Hey, guys."
Jared swings furiously round to see Smith approaching, glass in his hand and a cocky grin on his face.
"Kerr! Where've you been, man?" Jensen demands, stepping forward to slap the other man on the shoulder.
Smith looks slightly taken aback by the exuberant greeting, and glances between Jensen and Jared curiously. "Getting a drink. Got chatting to a few people on the way."
Jensen grins. "Awesome. Me and Jared have been chatting too."
"We still are," Jared adds, his face tight with displeasure.
"Still chatting with my best friend, Jay," Jensen murmurs. "Chatting, chatting, chat-ting." He mimes hitting a cymbal on the last syllable. "Heh, that sounds weird." He raises his hand to rub distractedly at his forehead, and then wipes his sweat soaked fingers on the leaves of the huge green plant beside them. "It's hot, right? I'm hot." He raises his glass to his lips to sip at his drink and then pulls at the open collar of his shirt, frowning unhappily when it stays in place. "You hot, Jay?" A huge smile spreads across his face, and he bends confidingly close. "I think you're hot, but we're just friends, so don't tell anyone I told you that."
Okay, this is getting weird. Jared studies Jensen worriedly, noting the flush on his face and the slick sheen of sweat that's already reforming. He opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but hears Smith's voice instead.
"Jensen." Kerr is frowning now. He has a matching worried look on his features as he moves in front of Jared and grabs Jensen's arm to gain his attention. "Are you okay? Did you take another one of your pills while I was gone?"
"Pills?" Jared demands, his own concern and growing jealousy sharpening into anger. "What the... Is he high?" Jensen doesn't do drugs and if he's started now he's laying the blame firmly at Smith's feet.
"Of course not," Kerr says immediately. Jared scowls at the casual certainty and hint of scorn in his tone. "Jensen doesn't do drugs."
At that, Jensen slumps against Smith's side, and stares curiously down at the hand still wrapped around his arm. Jared moves towards him, but Smith is already there. Short of physically dragging Jensen away, there's little he can do but watch, and silently fume, as Smith gently urges him backwards to prop him against the nearby pillar, and leans in to peer into his eyes. Jensen stares solemnly back, his eyes crossing slightly as he tries to focus on the face in front of him, loose limbed and relaxed even with the extreme closeness. Jared fights back the urge to grab Jensen and pull him in tight and safe against him, and, most importantly, away from Smith.
"Okay," Kerr amends, "he may be a little high."
Jared makes a growling sound of warning, and Kerr laughs, holding up placating hands.
"Don't worry," he says easily. "No illegal drugs were involved in the making of this stoner. We had a little accident on set yesterday, and now Jensen's got a buttload of stitches in his leg-"
"You're filming already?" Jared interrupts, his fear briefly giving way to hurt at the new evidence of the distance that's been between then recently.
"Yeah, shooting got pushed forward so we've been down in Pittsburgh since last Tuesday. He's on some pretty heavy-duty pain meds, but he's been okay till now. Maybe it's some sort of delayed reaction?"
Jared edges closer to Jensen, and Smith steps aside. They both frown over at Jensen, who's still leaning against the pillar. When he notices he's being observed, he lifts his glass to toast them happily before taking another long swallow. Smith's frown deepens, and he leans around Jared to snag the glass from his loose hold. Jensen relinquishes it easily, apparently quite happy to share.
Jared feels a sharp stab of dislike when Smith places his lips against the glass in the almost exact same place where Jensen's had been moments before. He takes a swallow and lowers the glass; Jensen immediately holds out his hand to take it back.
"No, probably not a good idea." Smith draws his arm away, and holds the glass out of Jensen's reach. "I think you might have accidentally got a little ginger beer in your vodka there, buddy," he says with rueful amusement.
"You let him drink alcohol while he's hopped up on pain medication?" Jared demands, his jaw clenched tight. This so wouldn't have happened on his watch. Beside him Jensen begins sliding lower down the pillar, the smooth sole of the boots he's wearing obviously not providing enough traction to keep him upright in his current state. Jared takes it as his cue to move in the final few steps and wrap a long arm around Jensen's shoulders to pull him upright and hold him secure between his own side and the pillar. In this position, he can still see Jensen's face, and he ducks his head to examine his blown-wide pupils.
"Hey, he ordered the drink himself, definitely alcohol-free, so if you want to blame anyone, go take it up with the bar staff."
"Maybe we should take him to the hospital," Jared mutters worriedly, waving a finger in front of Jensen's face and watching as he tracks the movement with difficulty.
"Nah, he'll be fine," Smith dismisses. "He's a big guy; there can't be too much in his system. C'mon, Jenny, let's get you home to bed so you can sleep it off." He moves toward Jensen, and Jared takes a hurried step backwards with his charge, leaving them half buried in the plant behind them.
Jensen laughs happily and turns to rub his face against the cool fronds enveloping him.
"Forget it," Jared bites out. Next to him Jensen begins humming the tune to George of the Jungle under his breath, and Jared feels some of his fear easing. This current, uninhibited version of Jensen is a lot like a hammered Jensen. Maybe he really does just need to sleep it off, but it definitely isn't going to be happening at Smith's place.
"He's coming home with me so I can make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit," Jared says. His hard tone makes it clear he doesn't think Smith up to the job. "And don't call him Jenny; he hates that."
Smith shrugs, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Privileges of a long friendship, Jared. I've known Jensen for a lot of years now."
"How many?" Jared demands belligerently.
"I don't know, coming up on ten, maybe?"
"Yeah, well I've known him longer."
"You realize that's technically impossible, unless you own a time machine." He cocks an eyebrow. "Do you own a time machine, Jared?"
Jared is just about to tell him to fuck off, when Jensen begins wriggling against him to twist himself free. Jared holds firm, but when Jensen's movements become frantic, he lifts his arm to release him before he can pull his stitches. Jared assumes Jensen has somehow guessed what he'd been about to say to Smith, and is pissed about it, but instead he stares up at him, huge green eyes open wide and hopeful. Jared suddenly flashes on how Jensen must have looked as a kid, and feels an aching tenderness gnawing at his insides. Refusing him anything must have been nearly impossible back then.
"Do you?"
Jared blinks. "Do I have a time machine? Er, no?"
"Damn," Jensen says sadly. "Remember in The Flintstones when Fred slid down the brontys.... brontys... the dinosaur's neck?" Jared nods encouragingly. "That was cool."
"Sure was, Jen," Jared says, feeling stupidly guilty time travel hasn't been invented. Turns out refusing him anything is equally impossible now, too. The urge to ruffle Jensen's hair, or, even better, drop a consoling kiss on his pouting lips is becoming increasingly difficult to fight. "Come on," he forces himself to say, "let's get you some water."
"I am thirsty," Jensen agrees obligingly.
"Jared," Smith tries again, a cajoling note in his voice. "Seriously, I'll look after him. He'll be fine. Plus his stuff's all at my place, and we've got a flight late tomorrow afternoon-"
"I told you forget it; he's staying with me." Jared draws himself up to his full height to glare down at the man in front of him.
"Jay!" Chad skids to a stop beside him. All three men pause as one to look at him.
"Hey, Kerr," Chad says, in a slightly calmer tone. "Ackles," he adds, squinting at Jensen who squints right back. "What's the fuck's up with him? Is he high?" he almost immediately demands, a look of surprised respect on his face.
"No!" Jared snaps. "He's just having a reaction to some pain meds."
"Figures," Chad snorts, and then turns his attention back to Smith. "So how's the wife, Kerr?" he asks, turning briefly back to Jared and widening his eyes meaningfully.
"Doing well, thanks. Away visiting with her folks at the moment," Smith replies, his lips twitching at the corners.
"That's good," Chad says, oblivious. "'Cause I saw you before, and I was gonna come over and say hi, and I didn't get round to it, but at the time I'd forgotten, about your wife, I mean, and then I realized I should ask how she was doing, too. So when I remembered I came right over to... ask." He glances at Jared again, and then half turns and lifts his hands to just below waist level, both thumbs raised in what he obviously feels is a covert move, but is actually visible to everyone within a ten foot radius.
Jared groans, and wishes his hands were free so he could hide his face in them. "Umm, we should probably be going now. I think, yeah, we should definitely be heading out."
"What? It's not even nine!" Chad protests. "Bar's open till two and I haven't even-"
"Not you, Chad," Jared says through gritted teeth. "Just me and Jensen."
"Oh. Right. Sure, sure, I get it." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys, tossing them over to Jared. "Take the keys, man. I'll get a room here, save you having to get up to let me in."
"You sure?" Jared asks guiltily, because he really does want to get Jensen on his own, once he's sober again, and he doesn't want Chad there for that, either as an audience or a cheering squad
"Positive." Chad gestures emphatically with the glass he's just liberated from a passing waitress. "You're my friend, man, but there's some things I sure as fuck don't need to see or hear, and gay make up sex is one of them."
Jared lets out a strangled moan, immensely grateful Jensen is almost completely out of it by now. "Thanks, Chad," he manages with difficulty.
"Don't mention it. Just disinfect every surface when you're done and we'll call it square."
Jared risks a look at the so-far silent Smith and finds him watching him intently. "His flight's at five on Sunday."
Jared nods. "I'll get him there in time."
"I'm trusting you with him, Jared," Smith says, "because I don't know you, and he sure as hell isn't up to making his own decisions right now. Don't make me regret that."
Jared nods again, and Jensen lifts heavy eyes to Jared questioningly. "We goin' home soon, Jay? M'tired,” he mumbles, and then turns and buries his face in Jared's neck.
"Okay," Smith concedes. "Maybe he is up to making his own decisions."
Against him, Jensen makes a grumbling sound of discontent. Jared rubs a soothing hand across his shoulders. "All right, Jen, we're heading out now."
Jensen twitches, his hands clenching in Jared's shirtfront. "Yabadabadoo," he sighs, the word muffled but still clear.
Smith lets out a snort of laughter. Chad looks confused, and vaguely pissed.
Jared tightens his grip on Jensen, nods at the two men watching him as though everything is completely normal, and heads for the exit.
--
Chapter 6