Shades of Gray (and Little White Lies), Part Three

Jun 21, 2021 20:30

Title: Shades of Gray (and Little White Lies) sequel to The Colors of My Life my 2013 Big Bang
Author: tcs1121
Artist: Bflyw
Pairing and Characters: Jared/Jensen, Christian Kane, O/Cs and mentions of Misha Collins, Mark Pellegrino, Rob Benedict, and Aldis Hodge
Rating: NC17 (brief)
Word Count: ~25000
Warnings: Jensen has a permanent, progressive medical condition that can cause blindness: Degenerative Myopia
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names used without permission. No money changes hands.
Beta: DisneyMagics who went above and beyond the call of beta. Thank you, my dear! I would not have written this without your enthusiasm and encouragement and it would not have come out half as well without you.
My First Reader: Special thanks to kee for giving this her once-over. My heart would have a difficult time posting without her name on it somewhere. Thank you, missy.

A/N (1): This is a sequel to my Big Bang 2013 The Colors of My Life and I highly recommend that you read that first. I love that story, and I think you will, too. ( Sammycolt24's art alone is worth the click.) There was an issue of trust between Jared and Jensen that never got resolved, and it always bothered me. So, seven years later, I finally got to fix it. (Or did I?)
A/N (2): Written for the SPN-J2-Big Bang 2021. Thank you to Wendy and any helping Big Bang Mods for pulling this off so well every year.

Link to Bflyw's Art: Is HERE

~~*~~*~~

~~*~~*~~
Shades of Gray (and Little White Lies)
~~*~~*~~
Summary:
Renowned "blind" artist, Jensen Ackles, brought on Jared T. Padalecki as his apprentice to carry on his work should his eyesight eventually fail. Under Jensen's tutelage, Jared has grown as an abstract impressionist artist in his own right and is about to go on tour with his art. While he and Jensen have developed a strong emotional, artistic and physical bond, there was a past issue where Jensen made an unfortunate choice. He accused Jared of betraying him to the press. Something Jared did not do. He has begged for Jared's forgiveness, and Jared is trying, but this may be an obstacle too difficult for him to overcome.



~~*~~*~~
Back to Part Two
~~*~~*~~

"I don't need you to go to the airport with me." Jared held Jensen tight. "It's not a fun drive."

"I know, I just want these last few minutes. You've spoiled me. I mean, Chris can't stretch canvas to save his life."

Chris harrumphed and took Jared's gear out to the car that was warming up.

"You're too picky." Jared heard the emotion in Jensen's voice. He heard the emotion in his own voice as well as he was about to embark on his first solo tour. "When I get home, I'll stretch as many canvases, mix as many pigments, and clean as many brushes as you want."

"I'll hold you to that." Jensen tightened his arms before letting Jared loose. "Now, go. Light up the world with your gift. You will be amazing, because you are amazing."

Jared brushed Jensen's cheek with his fingertips. "You may be a little biased."

"Absolutely and forever biased."

Chris shouted, "Giddy up, cowboy. Time's awastin'."

Jared chuckled. "Did he really just say that?"

Jensen sighed. "Christian is a walking cliché."

They stood close, sharing the air as they breathed.

Jared nuzzled Jensen's hair. "I'll be back before you know it. We'll get all our secrets out in the open, all our cards on the table and then begin the next chapter of our lives together."

"All our secrets?" Jensen furrowed his brows.

"Yes, all." Jared grinned. "Why? You got somethin' you don't want me to know?"

"We've got to go, Jensen. Jared's on the clock." Chris beckoned to Jared.

"I'm going to miss you," Jensen said, simply.

"Me, too." Jared pulled him close.

Chris coughed loudly.

"I've got a plane to catch, and my driver's getting itchy, but remember that I love you." He kissed him one last time. "Don't doubt it. Don't doubt me."

"No doubting. Never again." A wall of sadness seemed to cover Jensen as he said, "I trust you, Jared."

The air was heavy with the sentiment Jared didn't return.

"I'll be back before you know it." He repeated as he picked up his duffle and headed for warmer climes.


The prestigious and somewhat pompous Morée & Stack Gallery in Phoenix, Arizona was Jared's first stop. He was one of the visiting artists, so his options about how he wanted his works exhibited were limited by the host gallery. Mainly, that meant he couldn't paint the walls Mikado yellow like he had in Jensen's gallery. However, he was warmly received.

"Jared Padalecki, welcome to our gallery." Renée Morée held out her cool, well-manicured hand for Jared to shake. "It's a pleasure to have you here. I attended Jensen Ackles's Sky High exhibit and, after seeing your work, I knew we had to have your talent represented here."

She stood aside and a portly gentleman wearing loud colors and an outlandish white mustache extended his hand. "Welcome to our humble environment," Paulo Stack said. "Renée and I pride ourselves in recognizing up-and-coming artists, on the cusp of being great. We believe you will have a long and dazzling career ahead. We're proud to be on your resumé as the first to present your works."

Technically, Jensen's gallery was the first to introduce his works, but Jared replied with a heartfelt, "The honor is mine."

He meant it, too, because this show was a big deal for a down-home boy whose initial career choice was rocket scientist. "Please, show me where I can set up."

"We have interns from the Art Institute of Phoenix who are helping the exhibiting artists with set-up." Renée looked over her shoulder. "Nanette, get Adrik to help Mr. Padalecki with his art pieces and accoutrements."

This was how Jared's first independent foray into the art world began. The art interns fawned over him, the gallery owners showed him deference, and all the other "up-and-coming" artists were on the same wavelength. Except that Jared was the headlining artist.

The event at Morée & Stack was an exciting, frustrating, and novel experience. He was grateful for the opportunity to show his art at Sky High, as that gave him a taste of what presenting on his own would be like.

Meeting people, talking to art students and art critics, showing his work, and discussing his process was exhilarating. Yet, there was a pang of longing because he wished Jensen were here with him. Not sharing this experience with Jensen didn't feel right, didn't feel complete.

The idea of Jensen accompanying him on this tour had never come up. They both knew that Jensen, an established and respected artist, would have detracted from Jared's showing by virtue of his reputation.

But Jensen was part of Jared's art. Jensen was his idol and his mentor. Even with all the wonderful comments regarding Jared's style, composition and technique, there was an unexpected hole in his heart. A hole the size and shape of the blind artist who had taken him under his wing.



~~*~~*~~

"It's going really well, Jensen. Everyone is nice and say they like my work." Jared tucked the phone close to his ear as he lay in the hotel bed. "The gallery owners are extremely gracious. I don't know how to react to all this."

"Of course, they're nice. You're an extraordinary artist, and they should be downright giddy that you agreed to show your works with them. Renée and Paulo are well-respected, and while Paulo is overly garish, and Renée is a bit affected, they certainly know their stuff. They knew right away how gifted you were. If a blind artist can see your genius, surely the rest of the world can, too." He paused and said, fondly, "I am so proud of you, Jared."

"It's just, I mean, I wish…"

"What?" Jensen's warm voice traveled through the phone.

"You should be here with me. You took me on, kept me going and taught me more than I could have ever learned without you."

"You give me too much credit. Your talent is singular and innate. I only helped you to nurture it."

"You did more than that." Jared sighed. "I miss you. From now on, I want you with me for these events."

"I am there with you in spirit, but I admit, I wish you were back here and not just because I miss you."

Something pinged Jared's radar. "Is everything okay with you and Chris?"

"Everything's fine with me and Chris. I just didn't realize how much you do for me. How much I've learned to rely on you. How much I like having you around."

"I'm pretty sure, if you tell him where it goes, Chris can put your linseed oil away," he joked, but there was something he couldn't put his finger on. "Are you alright?"

Jensen huffed. "I'm just not used to having to tell someone where my linseed oil goes, or what I want set up, and how to position it since, apparently, you can read my mind and always have everything ready."

"Mind reading a grand master is an act I've been cultivating for decades. Finally, it's paying off."

"You've succeeded to the highest degree. You've spoiled me rotten. Except you keep forgetting that a grand master is a chess champion."

"And a Jedi knight."

"And a Jedi knight." Jensen's voice was low. "Remember, I'm here for you. Whenever you need me, just call. You know that, right?"

"I do know it. So, you're okay?"

"I miss you. That, and I'm excited about starting on our mutual project, I mean, if you choose to do it. Otherwise, all is well. Chris and I have finally called a truce and stopped calling each other names, the jackass."

"Okay," Jared snickered. "Okay. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll be here. Break a leg on your showing again tonight. Tell me all about it in colors that I can understand."

"I will. I promise. And hey, Jensen?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I think I do," Jensen said softly. "Now go. Knock 'em dead, kid."

"Not a kid, remember?"

Jensen laughed. "I remember."

They both stayed on the line, listening to each other breathe until the line softly clicked.


The flyer featured Jared's glossy head shot and read:

The Wye Hall is pleased to introduce a promising new talent, and son of Texas, himself. We welcome abstract impressionist artist, Jared T. Padalecki. His four-week tour begins Saturday, February the twentieth as part of our gala event, Country Roads, celebrating home-grown artists of all styles. We, at the Wye Hall, hope the Austin art community is as excited as we are to present Mr. Padalecki's newest works.

Jared and Jensen spoke daily. He had called Chris, who assured him that Jensen was fine and anxious to start the new project. Jared hadn't actually agreed to it yet, but seeing how much it meant to Jensen, he decided that he was willing to risk the fights, the head knocking, hair pulling and other trials that come along with collaborating artists.

He leaned back into the kitchen chair at his mom's house, where they were drinking coffee and eating brownies. San Antonio was about a two-hour drive from Austin. Close enough to visit but too far to bunk in. That was okay. The gallery was paying for his hotel and car rentals.

Jared had a warm and accepting family, and his relationship with his mother was especially nice. She had gotten over her initial disappointment when Jared had given up his all-expense paid PhD in math to pursue art. That was a big deal and opened the door for his father coming around.

It wasn't that they didn't like art, they were just concerned about Jared's ability to make a living creating it. Once they saw what he could do, they became his number one fans.

Unfortunately, his dad died three years ago. His mother chose to stay in the family home where coffee was constantly brewing. Jared's younger sister had moved to Oregon, but kept close tabs on her, and his older brother lived in Laredo, two hours and some away.

"Far enough to stay out of each other's hair. But close enough for me to spoil my grandkids."

Sherry admired her son's flyer, holding it up to his face. "You are such a handsome guy, and I can't be the only one who thinks so." She clicked her tongue and said, "You look more and more like my father every day." She smiled. "He was a handsome guy, too."

"Girls are supposed to think their sons and their fathers are handsome." Jared teased.

"Color this girl guilty on all counts." She refilled their coffee cups. "How do you like touring? So far, which do you like better, Phoenix or Austin?

"Well Phoenix doesn't come with homemade brownies." Jared took an exaggerated bite.

Sherry grinned before saying, "The Wye Hall in Austin is a beautiful venue. Your dad and I went to a few presentations there. Several years ago, they had a traveling exhibit with Egyptian artifacts, and one when the Smithsonian brought some biplanes from the Air and Space Museum." She swallowed the last of her coffee. "Oh, and an exhibit from England with teas and teacups and saucers from around the world. Did you know that there are almost three thousand different types of teas?"

"You're a smarty pants."

"I am a smarty pants." She refilled her coffee cup. "And I don't even like tea."

"I liked Morée & Stack a bit better, but maybe that's because they had all these interns and young artists helping me out. And maybe because it was my first. The Wye Hall is bigger and a little more intimidating. Plus, there are a lot more artists showing their works at the Wye than at Morée & Stack."

"Have you been getting good crowds?"

"We've been getting great crowds. It's almost surreal. I can't believe this is my life." Jared said, licking brownie crumbs off his fingers. "God, how did I get so lucky?"

"Are you getting along better with Jensen?" She took a tentative sip. "I know you've had some rocky times, but you sound calmer now."

Jared's mother was being tactful. She knew exactly what had happened between them and was giving Jared a way to verbalize his thoughts.

"I am calmer. Being away is making things clearer for me. Being in warm weather and eating brownies helps, too." He batted his lashes at his mom.

Sherry winked back. "Maybe you could wrap him up in a blanket and bring him here. Surely, he could use a break from the cold weather, too."

"I may do that someday." He looked down into the swirling cup. "You know, until I had my own showings, I never considered what it must have been like for him and what he had to go through. Especially early on, trying to make a name for himself. Not only is he severely visually impaired, but he had to master setting up at the various galleries, learning the layouts, coping with the owner's personalities as well as the quirks of the other showing artists. He had to deal with the sometimes-complicated travel arrangements, the audiences, the art critics and then go back to his studio and create more art. And he's been doing it for years. He's more awesome than I thought, and I thought he was pretty awesome to begin with."

Sherry nibbled on her own brownie and waited patiently.

"Being away from him has been a lot harder than I thought. I figured that having time away from each other would give me the headroom I needed to weigh my feelings about my life and my relationship with him."

"Did it? Did the time and distance give you some clarity?" Sherry placed another brownie on Jared's napkin.

"I don't know. The cold New England weather was makin' me stay inside the house, and the more I was inside the house, the more I was inside my head. Made me feel closed-in and antsy. I've lost my temper with him a few times. More than that, though, I kept reliving, over and over, the hurt from Sky High. From the reviews, the accusations and the lies told to the reviewers, lies Jensen believed. It was like prodding a sore tooth with your tongue to see if it still hurt."

Jared's eyes got misty. "It still hurt, mom. Every time."

"I know, honey, but you also told me that Jensen was sorry about his part in it. Why aren't you jabbing your tongue on that? You've always been a forgiving person. How come you're finding it hard to forgive him? Don't you believe he's sorry?"

"I do believe he's sorry. After the fall, when I got to him, he was all the way blind and bleeding and losing consciousness. All that time he was asking for my forgiveness." Jared swallowed around a lump in his throat. "Jesus, I thought he was dying."

That, Jared realized, was the worst moment of his life.

"Then," Sherry asked, "what's holding you back?"

"I don't know."

Sherry stood and rinsed her cup out in the sink. "You're usually a pretty smart kid, but I remember times you'd get stuck on that last set of numbers. Eventually you'd work them out, and you always got the right answer. You can work this problem out, too. Substitute your math for your art and see what you get."

Maybe she was on to something.


Standing tall in The Wye Hall, Jared proudly displayed his work, spoke with critics and art lovers, and lived his life as an honest-to-God artist. It was invigorating, exciting, and a little scary.

Jared never missed the opportunity to acknowledge the master artist, under whom he was apprenticing. He hoped it didn't sound like name dropping when he mentioned Jensen. There was so much to give him credit for, that it didn't feel right keeping Jensen in the shadows while all the lights were shining on his apprentice.

Besides, they all knew he was working with Jensen Ackles.

His paintings were very well received and, to his utter surprise, offers for commissioned works were coming in. In the midst of this whirlwind of activity, his mind cascaded with colors, emotions and numbers.

He was happy, he was proud of his work, and he felt that he was on the verge of a successful career. However, there were still those troubling calculations he kept jabbing his tongue on that needed to be worked through.

Statements of Fact:

1. Jared needed time away to get his thoughts and feelings together regarding how, and if, he wanted to continue his relationship with Jensen.
2. If this opportunity to travel with his art had not arisen, he would have found an excuse-even if he had to manufacture one-to get away from the cold, and away from Jensen for the purpose stated in #1.

Problem:
1. The longer he is away from Jensen in dreary, wintery Massachusetts, the more he wants to go back.
i. This art tour is a chance of a lifetime and a launching pad for his art career. Therefore, he should not want to go back.
ii. He has not resolved the trust issues regarding Jensen's actions. Therefore, he should not want to go back.

He should not want to go back, yet he does. These were inconsistencies he needed to extrapolate.

If:
• Jensen took him on to be his apprentice because he admired Jared's talent…
• Jensen was generous with his time when teaching Jared new techniques and methods…
• Jensen was proud of Jared's creativity and imaginative nature…

Then:

• Jensen should be allowed to reap the benefit of the effort he put into Jared's abilities.
• Jensen should have the satisfaction of experiencing Jared's success firsthand.
• Jared wanted Jensen to continue to provide advice, criticism and praise.

Therefore:

Jensen should with him, and since he's not, Jared wants to go home because he appreciates and misses Jensen. He doesn't feel it's fair that he soaks up all the accolades, since Jensen has taught him so much.

After examining and agreeing with this, he drew up a more difficult set of variables:

If:

A.) Jensen is sorry for accusing him.
B.) Jensen trusts him, and will never mistrust him again.
C.) Jensen wants to share their combined talent with the world.
D.) Jensen loves him.

And:

A.) Jared believes A-D

Then:

Jared should accept Jensen's apology and forgive him.

Conclusion:

Jared misses Jensen like a limb and should accept his apology and forgive him.

QED

Jared sighed and smiled. He had the answers he needed. The facts never lie, though sometimes they take a while to line up properly.

Lesson learned, mom. Lesson learned.


There were a little less than two weeks left to the tour when Chris called.

"Hey, kid. How does it feel being a professional arteest? You got art groupies followin' you around from show to show?"

"Since I've only had six weeks on the road and one and a half shows total, no groupies yet." Jared sat on the edge of his hotel bed. "You don't make social calls. What's going on?"

"Well, now, this is kind of a social call…"

"Is he okay?"

When Jared heard Chris pause, his heart began hammering. "Chris, is he okay?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"You think so? You must not think so since you're calling me behind his back. He's not there with you, is he?"

"Nope. Nope, he's not. He's in the studio. He's trying to paint."

"Okay," Jared took in a calming breath. "He's in the studio. That's good. Then what's up?"

"I said that he was trying to paint, because he hasn't been able to paint."

"Of course, he can paint."

"Look, Jared, you know how well I know him, right? I know something's not sittin' right. He was frustrated last night, and we talked. I asked him why he was finding it so damn hard to put the paint on the picture. He said that his colors were being difficult. When I mentioned his painter's block this afternoon, he admitted it but said that he would be able to get it together once you got back. He, uh, may have mentioned something about you being his muse."

Jared snorted a laugh. "I don't believe that."

"I don't either." Chris wasn't laughing.

"Then what do you think it is?"

"Have you noticed him rubbing his eyes or his eyes tearing? I mean, more than regular?"

"I don't think so. Not more than usual. Is he getting headaches?"

"Yeah, every now and then, but he says they're not bad and not to worry 'bout 'em. I guess it could be that you're his muse and you're too far away. Do you have suggestions on how I can help him through this? You're the artist, I'm not. He's not eating or sleeping well either. He says it's happened before, but all I know is he's not happy."

"He's not happy?" Jared wasn't expecting that. "I thought having you there without me would be a nice opportunity for y'all to reminisce, exaggerate the glory days, and make fun of me behind my back."

"Yep, that part's fun." Chris sent a low chuckle through the phone. "But the only time he seems happy is when he is talking about you. Don't worry 'bout it. I'm sure he'll survive. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Are you having fun? I mean, are shows like that even in the realm of fun?"

"It's not exactly fun. More nerve-wracking since I'm sure someone, somewhere, is going to hate my work and tell me why. In gory detail. But it hasn't happened yet. As Jensen once told his students, never is everyone going to like what you do. Hey, break out his extra strength Motrin and have him drink a lot of water, that usually helps. Oh, and ask him to call me tonight. Tell him I really want to talk to him."

"Got it."

"Chris, if you knew something was wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

"I would."

"Do you think I should come home?"

"No. I would tell you that, too."

"Thanks, Chris."

"Welcome."

"You can call me anytime."

"Okie dokie," he said as he hung up.

Jared was unsettled. He didn't accept the idea that Jensen was reacting badly to his absence. Jared knew that Jensen didn't need him around to be able to paint, eat and sleep.

I guess it could be painter's block.

He'd feel better after he spoke to Jensen.


Except he didn't.

Chris was right. Something was off. Jensen's voice over the phone was soft and fretful.

"Jensen, talk to me, man. What's going on?"

"I don't know how to explain it. I can't paint, I can't sleep, and I worry about things."

"Things? What things?" Jared remained calm, but just barely.

"Stupid things. Like the house catching fire. Like your plane crashing. I even worried that a truck would crash into the house, and you know how far away from the road we are. I don't get it." Jensen took a breath. "If it's any consolation, listening to me talk about it, makes me realize how foolish I sound."

"Naw, you don't sound foolish. You sound anxious. Somethin' is worrying you, and it's driving you crazy. Chris said you're not eating, either, and he knows all your favorites." Jared made up his mind and pulled out his suitcase. "I think I'm gonna come home."

"No. I don't want you to come home. I’m being stupid, I know it, and I’m not going to cut your tour short. So, no. Just no." Jensen sounded calmer now. "I am glad to hear you calling our house home, though. Just so you know, this isn't the first time this has happened, and I survived it. I'm sorry Chris bothered you." He chuckled softly. "Don't worry. I'll be careful to stay out of the path of wayward trucks."

"When this happened before, what was going on in your life?"

Jensen took a moment before answering. "I think it was when I got to class and didn't realize there was a final exam, or when I was on stage and didn't know any of my lines, or discovered that I was naked in front of a whole audience of…"

"Jensen."

Jensen's steady breathing was all Jared heard. Jared waited patiently until finally Jensen said, "When you do come home, after the tour, I'm going to ask you two things. One: will you collaborate with me? And two: do you forgive me? I'm hoping the answer to both will be yes."

Jared noticed the deflection but there was something more pressing. "D'ya think you'll be able to at least eat some pizza with Chris tonight?"

"Pizza sounds good," Jensen replied. "I may even ask him for anchovies this time."

"Oh my God, no. No fish on pizza. Like, ever."

"Says the guy who puts pineapple, sriracha and goat cheese on his."

"There's no fish, though." Jared was feeling a little bit better, and it sounded like Jensen was, too.

"I'll tell you what," Jared continued. "I will collaborate with you, and after we have a heart-to-heart talk, I'll forgive you."

"You will?"

"I will."

"Then," Jensen sounded like he needed a moment. He cleared his throat and sniffed. "Then, okay. No anchovies."

Jared laughed. "Deal. I'll see you in two weeks-ish."

"Yes, without a doubt, you will."

"Meet me at the airport?"

"Count on it." Jensen added, softly, " I can't, I can't wait to see you."

"Same here. I miss you." Jared held the phone close. "I love you, you know."

"I hope so."

"I'm looking forward to getting back."

"Me too, but no crashing the plane before you get here."

After Jensen hung up, Jared was bombarded with a range of emotions that ran the gamut from worried, to perplexed, to so in love he didn't know what to do with himself. He couldn't wait to see the look in Jensen's eye when he told him yes to both questions.

He knew Chris was keeping Jensen company and taking good care of him. Maybe they were even singing together. Jensen sounded like his old self by the end of the conversation, and pizza with goat cheese sounded pretty good. So, he prayed that all was well, and then searched his phone to see if any place in Austin delivered pizza with sriracha.


Art Review-The Art Aesthetic with Rob Benedict

Breakout artist Jared T. Padalecki is on the rise.

Jared T. Padalecki, abstract impressionist artist, held his inaugural showing at the prominent Morée & Stack Gallery in Phoenix, Arizona, and what a showing it was.

Renée Morée and Paulo Stack have the uncanny knack of recognizing raw talent and inviting it into the light. Jared T. Padalecki is an example of that kind of talent.

Padalecki is the apprentice and protégée of the master impressionist artist, Jensen Ackles. Padalecki recently made news surrounding one of Mr. Ackles's latest works. Fortunately, that controversy has now been resolved. Now, we can concentrate on the art and nothing but the art.

Jared Padalecki has emerged as a force to be reckoned with. His composition is unique and compelling. Even though he has been studying under Ackles, these two artists' styles are markedly different.

Padalecki's style is fearless, commanding, and unapologetic. I believe his bold strokes, large canvases and no-nonsense statement of color will propel him high into today's-and tomorrow's-art world.

Padalecki continues his tour in Country Roads, an exhibit celebrating Lone Star State artists presented by The Wye Hall in Austin, Texas.

~~*~~*~~

With his first tour over and his first art review under his belt, Jared headed home.

~~*~~*~~

To his delight, Jared saw that Chris and Jensen were already waiting for him at the baggage carousel. Jensen had his cane in one hand and Chris's arm in the other, and he looked good. Jared didn't know what to expect, but it didn't matter because he was home and Jensen was here. When Jared emerged from the escalator, he saw Chris saw lean down to tell Jensen something, which caused Jensen's smile to light up the terminal.

Dawn was breaking, and the terminal was almost empty, so Jared jogged over to the baggage claim as Chris called out, "Welcome home, son."

Jensen opened his arms. Jared fell into them, hugging him tight. Jared swore he heard Jensen whisper over and over, "You're home, you came home." Then Jensen did something he seldom did in public. He brought both hands up to Jared's face and closed his eyes. As his fingertips grazed Jared's chin and jaw, Jensen sighed, "That was a fucking long two months."

Jared laughed and did something he seldom did in public. Thrust his tongue into the mouth of a famous and well-respected abstract impressionist artist.



~~*~~*~~
On to Part Four
~~*~~*~~

au, rpf, h/c, the colors of my life, shades of gray, big bang

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