Days Behind - Chapter 05
The music was so full of bass that Jensen could feel it in his thighs. The group had been searching for Christian for the past five hours and the only thing they’d found was that Misha could pretty much con anyone out of a round of drinks for the group by just flashing his smile. But no Christian. Steve was about to give up when they’d passed the bar they were now standing outside of.
“This is the last one,” Steve promised. “And if he ain’t in here, he ain’t anywhere I can think to look.”
Misha looked over at the poster, his eyes widening. “Steven, this is a stripper bar.”
“Uh, yeah. And?”
“There are naked women in there.”
Steve chuckled. “Wouldn’t be a very good strip joint without the girls getting naked.”
“But…”
“Do you want to find Chris or not?” Steve grabbed Misha’s shoulders gently but firmly.
Misha turned to Jensen for help. “Yes, but…”
“Misha?”
“Yes, Jensen?”
“Shut up. Sooner we get in, sooner we get out.”
Misha sighed, knowing Jensen was right. “Let’s do this then.”
“That’s the spirit.” Steve clapped Misha on the shoulder and pushed him through the door after Jensen.
The inside of the bar was hazy from the constant operation of the smoke machine. Jensen coughed for a moment as he scanned the room for his friend. It took two passes before his eyes rested on the familiar head of long brown hair.
“There,” Jensen tapped Steve, who was busier looking at the stage than looking for Christian.
“Huh?”
“Chris. Right. There.”
“Oh yeah, Chris…”Steve tore his eyes away from the action on the stage to focus on where Jensen was pointing. “Shit.”
There was a yelp off to the other side indicating Misha was also taking in the scenery.
“Calm down, Misha.” Jensen put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Making him jump a little. “Let’s just go get Chris.”
“Yes.” Misha nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and letting Jensen steer him to the table. “Christian.”
“Hey Chris,” Steve pulled out a chair and turned it around before straddling it. “How’s tricks?”
Christian turned his head toward Steve, eyes never leaving the stage. “Same old thing, man.”
“You ‘bout done here?” Steve indicated the many empty beer bottles and few shot glasses cluttering the table.
“Nope.”
Steve watched his friend even as Christian’s eyes never left the show. “Do I have to do the test?”
“Fuck you, Carlson.”
“If you really mean that, it’s time to go.”
“I meant it in a purely platonic way.”
“Mind if we join you?”
“Free country.” Christian indicated the empty chairs around him with a sweep of his open hand. “But Collins has to uncover his eyes.”
Misha whispered loudly, “Christian. Those women are displaying their breasts!”
“I’ll drink to that!” Christian smiled and emptied the shot glass in front of him.
There was an uncomfortable silence that settled around the four men as no one knew what to say or do. Christian was obviously not going to discuss what had brought him here, Steve was going to do nothing more than bore a hole into his friend’s skull by staring at him rather than trying to get information out of him, and Misha was going to just continue to die of embarrassment with his hands over his face. Jensen, however, had his own problems not related to Christian Kane.
Off to his left, right at the bar, was a very attractive man. A very attractive man that Jensen had been watching on television just recently and had DVR’d tonight to watch later. And Jensen was sure he was going to die right then and there unless he could just hide from the owner of the face.
“Okay, that’s two of you trying to hide. Do women baring their chests scare you, Jensen?” Christian barked out on a laugh.
“Shhh! Keep your voice down!” Jensen whisper-yelled.
“I got news for ya, Ackles.” Christian tipped his beer to the dancer on the stage in greeting as she smiled down at him. “They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“Shut up, Kane.”
Christian leaned closer to Jensen. “Breasts, Jensen. Boobies, knockers, titties, TA-TAS!”
“Chris! It’s not those - it’s - “ Jensen made his voice lower and quieter. “It’s…him.” He pointed over to the bar as stealthily as he could.
“Ooooh!” Christian cooed at him.
“Shut up or he’s going to - “
“Sportscaster!”
Jensen died a little before turning completely red and trying to meld with the table as the adorable man looked in the direction of the shout. “Dude!”
Christian waved him over cheerfully.
Jensen left his head on the table. “Seriously? I may kill you.”
“No you won’t.” A wolf-grin crept across the other man’s face before he sing-songed, “You’re gon-na thank me…”
“Death,” Jensen all but grunted.
Christian shrugged, never dropping the grin. “Wedding invite. Which reminds me - I will be bringing a guest. Pencil that in now.”
There was a definite growling noise from where Jensen was trying to burrow into the table top.
Christian nudged the folded arms and motioned with his head to the man lumbering towards them. “You better put that away before your boyfriend gets over here.”
Jensen looked up to see a tall brunette with hair flopping over into his eyes coming closer every second. “Holy shit.”
Christian looked up at the man standing above them. “Hey, man - I just wanna say thank you for those scores last week - won me $50.”
“I just report them, somebody else did all the work,” the man chuckled.
“Hey!” Misha uncovered enough of his eyes to see who was talking. “You’re that sportscaster guy!”
“Yeah, uh, Jared. Jared Padalecki.” He offered his hand to Misha, who took it, still trying to cover his eyes.
“And this is Jensen,” Christian spoke for the man sitting there trying not to let his jaw drop. “And he would very much like to buy you a drink.”
“He would, now, would he?” Jared arched an eyebrow in what could be complete interest or total disgust.
Jensen cut his eyes at Christian, hoping they were narrow enough to convey his true feelings about this situation. Christian merely chuckled, the bastard, before patting him on the back and turning back to the show on stage.
Jared calmly motioned to the woman behind the bar. “I’ll have the usual - make it two - one for this guy over here -“
Jensen slid his chair over as Jared grabbed one from a nearby table. “So…”
“Jensen, right?” Jared squeezed in the space, his chair turned around the wrong way, nodding at Steve as he sat.
Jensen swallowed, trying hard not to hyperventilate, “Yeah.”
A smile brought Jared’s dimples to the forefront. “So, Jensen, what brings you here? If I’m right, this isn’t really your type of place.”
“Yeah, uh, you could say that…”Jensen shrugged, looking over at his band mates, but finding Steve and Christian’s attention on the stage and Misha’s head resting on the table.
“Well, I guess it isn’t mine either.” Jensen could have sworn the dimples on the sportscaster’s face deepened.
“So, if you don’t mind me askin’ - “
Jared cut him off. “My buddy Chad owns it - he drags me here every Friday night.” Then Jared chuckled. “Drags…”
“Huh?” Jensen’s eyebrows knit together.
Jared leaned close enough to Jensen that he swore he felt the taller man’s breath on his neck. “Friday nights here are drag nights.”
Jensen pulled back to look in question at Jared. Jared grinned wider, nodding and motioning with his head toward Steve and Christian. Jensen was forced to return the smile. “So those girls up there have...”
“Not exactly. Those girls are real. But the next set? You’ll notice they don’t go ‘all out’, if ya know what I mean.”
“Oh, this is going to be great.”
The bartender brought a tray with two Bacardi Silvers on it. “Here go, Jared. Chad says they’re on the house , but not to drink too many.”
Jensen snorted. “You can do that?”
“Oh, you don’t know Jared yet, that’s right.”
“Thank you, Danneel. You may go now.”
Danneel smiled her most polite smile and turned on her heels to go back to the bar, but not before extending her middle finger to Jared. Jared chuckled and watched her walk away before picking up one of the glass bottles and saluting Jensen with it.
It was well after two am before the group managed to leave the bar. Chad was very understanding about letting them stay after Christian had been given the news about the performers being less than female and had proceeded to drink his weight in tequila. Jensen waved at Jared as Steve and Misha dragged Christian out to the waiting SUV. He was almost to the door when he felt the tap on his shoulder.
“You know, it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you called me tomorrow…or texted me tonight…” Jared grinned, pulling his dimples out in full force once again.
Jensen began to nod, finding it was hard to stop. “Yeah…yeah, that would be great.” He patted his pockets for his cell, but all he came up with was a Sharpie. “Do I have your number?”
Jared frowned. “I don’t think so.” He patted his pockets for his own phone, but found it in none of them - on any of the four times he checked. “Crap. I don’t have my phone. Must have left it inside.”
“That’s okay,” Jensen assured him with a slight slur. “I found a pen.”
Jared offered his arm and Jensen carefully wrote the ten digits familiar to him. “There. That’s a seven.”
“Seven. Gotcha.” Jared took the marker from Jensen’s grip and traced over it again.
Misha looked over at what was going on between the two. “You have a blob in your number?” he asked Jensen before patting a goodbye on Jared’s back. “I hate to break this up, but we gotta get going. We’re fill-uh-working tomorrow.”
“Oh, right…right…” Jensen crooked a smile and waved at Jared before ducking into the vehicle.
They had only been riding for five minutes when Christian, who was sharing the backseat with Jensen, leaned so close to Jensen’s face that he was sure that the fumes from Christian’s breath alone would give him alcohol poisoning. “I think he liked ya.”
Jensen smiled at his friend. “Yeah?”
Christian’s head came to rest on Jensen’s shoulder before he spoke. “Yeah. I saw the way he was lookin’ at ya…”
Jensen turned his head as much as he could. “And how was that, man?”
His question was answered by a soft snore.
Jensen snorted. “Figures. You have something I want to hear and…”
Christian snuffled, earning him a pat on the cheek from Jensen.
“Thanks for being a fuck-up, man.”
“Welcome.”
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