Chapter 3: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead (J2, NC-17)
Fic title: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead
Artist name: amberdreams
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: past domestic abuse, sexual language, cussing, Chad
Back to full description and chapter index.
***
Jared had to agree, Jensen’s ride was as close to a unicorn as he would get. The interior of his mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala smelled of leather, wood polish and Jensen’s cologne, while the exterior gleamed with mirror finish. The purr of the engine held the promise of a wildcat, and a whirling breeze from the rolled-down window whipped through his hair to cool the heat of the sun. Chad would not believe him, and if he did, his jealousy would know no bounds.
“Yeah, okay, it’s a unicorn,” he reluctantly agreed, and Jensen fist-pumped the air. It felt like a daytrip with a buddy he had known for years rather than a business trip, and it was a little disconcerting.
In an odd coincidence, they both banked with the local Alwyn Mutual Bank. Jared explained several times, that he did not expect to be paid any sort of retainer in advance - he would invoice for work completed. Jensen argued that he would not entertain such an arrangement. There would be wages to pay, equipment to hire, plants and seeds to purchase. Jared would present his weekly bill and it would be honoured, but, in the event that Jensen was not able to approve a purchase, the retainer would be used. Jared would have continued the argument but their bank manager, who he had begged for numerous short-term overdrafts, shot him a blatant ‘Shut up, Mr. Padalecki!’ glance. He shut up and rolled with it, resolving to keep an iron grip on his accounts. There would be no recurrence of the Spendlethift debacle.
Jensen asked for recommendations for a light lunch and Jared suggested the Pavilion Cafe in the municipal park. The surroundings were pleasant and they made great salads and light lunches at a price that Jared could afford. It wouldn’t be busy on a weekday so they could talk uninterrupted.
Lisa, the barista and an old school friend of Jared’s, greeted them and raised her eyebrows at Jensen in silent question to Jared. He beat her hopes down, introducing Jensen as new to the area and a new client, and they would sit at a quiet booth so they could talk business.
Jensen turned a million watt smile on Lisa, “It’s not quite true,” he said, “I am actually returning to the area after a long absence, but with all the changes, it does feel new to me. He offered his hand to shake hers, “Charmed to meet you.”
Jared watched their interaction with narrowing eyes. He wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be jealous. He barely knew the guy. In fact, with that Texan drawl, he hadn’t even known that he was a Burlington native. Even if it did feel like an itch of jealousy he was not going to scratch that itch. He could shake it off. “With that accent, I would have guessed Houston,” he commented.
“My mother took up and went a searchin’ for Bigfoot Wallace when I was a kid. She found a few Bigfoots, but none of ‘em were a fairy tale,” Jensen joked. “She still operates out of Austin but these days the fairy tales are for other people. The place on Ambrose Grove has some family connections for me, a great, great aunt, so I looked it up when I decided to move back. Story goes that she longed to be the lady of the house. And she charmed the young man of the house, married him and made their home a sparkling beacon of society. Far as I can tell, their marriage soured quickly and the hospitality was a sham, but the old house never deserved to fall into it’s current state of disrepair.” He shrugged, “So now I’m following my own dream. Except, I decided to renovate the house first, and work on love, after.”
Jared glanced at his face, looking for signs that Jensen was spinning a tale but there were none, “Aw, that’s romantic,” he replied in the end.
Jensen scrunched his nose up in disgust and Jared couldn’t help noticing that the smattering of freckles that scrunched with it. It was adorable. He thought he might say something else but Lisa interrupted with customer patter and coffee that frothed at the rim. He watched Jensen’s face light back up in an instant, to give her his full, flirtatious attention, and she promised to bring their food to their table.
As they navigated to a quiet booth, an old lady gathered her belongings to leave. She dropped her hat and Jensen dipped gracefully to collect it. He presented it to her, all smiles and old fashioned chivalry. Oh, yes, it was becoming obvious that Jensen could charm birds from the trees and Jared knew that charming men were trouble. It was another reason to keep his distance.
Jensen opened the conversation. “I am going to save you some trouble. Before you tell me what you think I am going to do with my gardens, and before you form any accurate or wildly inaccurate opinions of me, I am going to tell you about me - the good, the bad and the awful.” He stared at him over his cup.
Jared could admit to being blindsided, “Um. Okay. I mean, I don’t need to know anything. It’s not my business. I wasn’t going to gossip.”
“I know, but as you rightly told me, the way I live my life will affect how I use my gardens.”
“Well yes, but...”
“I am 29 years old. I have a Masters in Business and Marketing and I am a spoilt-ass trust fund kid. My mother leads a fortunate life like her parents, and like theirs before them. You get it? With careful management, fortune accumulates fortune, accumulates fortune. It’s not like I never earned my own money - my momma thought I was a cute kid, so I modeled for fashion catalogues. Should you discover a young me rocking brick pattern pants or dinosaur pajamas, then I would thank you never to bring it up. There are good reasons why I chose not to continue it.”
Jared fought not to laugh at the mental image of sweet-little-kid-Jensen, moodily posing in PJs, instead he blew the froth off his caramel cappuccino, and the leaf image, that Lisa had so carefully drawn in it, smudged and disappeared. “You totally could though,” he complimented.
“Maybe, but some of those guys…” Jensen pointed his teaspoon at Jared, “Uck!”
Jared’s smile disappeared, “There are always rumors in the media. Ew. Was it...were you?”
“My mother would have destroyed them. Nothing ever happened and it’s not the reason why I am gay.” He glanced at Jared who was trying to keep up with all his honesty without choking on his coffee. “Which, I am. One hundred percent gay with no boyfriend at present. Which is not to say that there will not be children playing in the gardens of my home, I have family and a social life, there will definitely be children.”
“That’s not a problem, not at all,” Jared reassured.
“I don’t have a proper job because I don’t need one. Instead, I swan from lunch date to dinner dance in search of other grotesquely fortunate people, to wrangle funds from their fat offshore accounts, into a registered charity close to my heart. I have the dubious title of ‘Ambassador’. In reality I am nothing but a free-loader and cash-charmer. My smile is a lie, Jared.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Not this one, this one is only for you.”
“It sounds like work to me.”
“You’re too kind, Jared. No prejudices lurking?”
“Well, since I’m bi, it would mean beating myself up and I’m not into that.”
“But you aren’t rich. I’m guessing that money does not accumulate easily for you?”
The arrow was sharp and it found its mark. He couldn’t help a tinge of bitterness in his reply, “I have never been penniless. I have an education and can work hard. It is why I mow lawns and accost strangers with my flyers.”
“It’s still not fair,” Jensen spoke softly, “And that is why we dream.”
The arrival of Jared’s chilli bean sub and Jensen’s lobster salad gave Jared time to regroup.
Jensen licked his lips, “Oh, this looks good. We should stop talking and eat.”
Jared had never been more grateful for the instruction because he wasn’t sure he could talk after watching that. He thought he might have a stupid little crush and wouldn’t that complicate things?
Jared finished every crumb of his sub and Jensen pushed his plate away with only a sliver of carrot remaining. They both sighed contentedly. Jensen asked for a coffee top up before they resumed.
“What is the charity you represent?” asked Jared, his full stomach inspiring him, “Will you be holding functions at your home? On the terrace, or in the gardens?
“Ah, bullseye! Yes, it is my intention to host tea parties, garden parties, and children’s events. Our organisation, Dream Fairies, helps children to make memories doing something extraordinary with their terminally ill parent. Sometimes, I get to organize or host the dream and that is my favourite part of the role.”
“Wow, that is amazing. Jensen, you are NOT a freeloader. What you do is incredible and kind.”
Jensen looked down and fiddled with a napkin. “Thank you,” he replied eventually. “A lot of people don’t see me that way. Outside the circuit, it doesn’t make me any friends.”
Because self confidence and popularity are not automatically bestowed with a fortune, thought Jared, as he noticed the nervous action. He felt ashamed for his initial bitterness.
“How soon do you need to have your terrace and lawn ready for a party?”
“Oh no! That’s not where we are going to start! We can tweak things later. I need you to tell me your dream for my gardens. I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to imagine that money is unlimited, time is unlimited and that your only constraints are your imagination and the topography of my land. I want you to enthuse and ramble. I want you to remember that the oak over there,” he pointed to a magnificent white oak at the edge of the park, “was planted by somebody with a vision. They never got to see the impact it makes, but their dream was important, for this park, for the birds that sing in it, and the children who play under it. When you have money, there is a difference between cost and value, and the value of that oak is immeasurable.”
Jared’s eyes widened, “You want to create a legacy?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
Jared started to talk, he let himself ramble and enthuse. He described lawn recovery, arboretums, formal and cottage gardens, ponds, organic pest control, composting, native planting and so much more.
Jensen made himself comfortable and listened.
When Jared and Jensen had progressed through contract particulars and onto a discussion about favorite bedding flowers, Jared’s silent phone vibrated in his pocket and repeated every few minutes. “Sorry, I better get this,” he said eventually.
He held the phone away from his ear as Chad yelled, “Dude! Where the hell are you? Did the rich guy kidnap you? I have been waiting for hours and the janitor is going to lock me in!”
“I said I’d come and get you at 3.”
Jensen looked at his Rolex and Jared checked his phone. They both grimaced.
“Dude, it’s 3.40, did you two get jiggy?” He was loud enough that Jared was sure Jensen must have heard. He glanced across at him. Jensen quirked an eyebrow at him but his lips quirked upward too, amused and ready to laugh.
“Chad! Shut up or you’re fired.”
“You always say that.”
“This time I mean it,” he hissed into the phone.
“No you don’t,” answered Chad and Jensen at the same time.
Jared pouted.
Jensen put on his shades, “C’mon. I’ll take us home.”
The afternoon sun reflected from the bell tower of Jensen’s house as they turned onto the bumpy drive. Jared had been so excited to explore the grounds that he hadn’t paid much heed to the house until now. It’s colonial glory had faded. There were cracks in the masonry, thick ivy crept over dirty windows, and parts of the porch were adorned with bright yellow and black ‘Danger!” signs. It would have been magnificent once, with shined marble and polished wood. Maybe it could be beautiful again, but the crowd of workmen that had descended upon it now made sense to Jared.
Jensen followed his gaze as the Impala slowed to a stop. “I know it looks impossible but I can see how my great aunt fell in love with it. Sometimes, I see a thing and I see potential. I want that thing. I know it will bring me complications. I know it is wilful of me, selfish even. I know there will be costs and heartache, but I cannot leave it alone, I have to have it. I have to believe that it will bloom and be beautiful. So, here I am, and I know I am right.” In the moment he was earnest and passionate, as if he was sharing some cosmic secret with Jared, but then he stepped out of the car, slammed the door, held up a large iron key and quipped cheerily, “Lord of the Manor!”
“Can you even live here?”
Jensen counted on his fingers, “There is running water and a microwave in the kitchen. There is one usable room downstairs, which has furnishings and my own comfortable bed, I reckon that qualifies it as a bedroom. There is a bathroom with two complete walls and several floorboards. It has a big ass shower and sometimes it even has hot water. We can check it out if you’d like to join me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Jared.
Jared’s heart sank into his stomach. He wanted to run. There were two elements of this gig that bothered him. One was going to be difficult to voice without appearing crazy, but with this, he decided to be blunt - it was how Jensen had been with him. Then again, Jensen had money and power and he had nothing without the man’s generous contract. “Look, Jensen, I am excited for this project, and I like you but, and I’m going to be frank, this is not ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ and your money doesn’t buy my body. Even if I did want to do anything,” he took a deep breath, “And you’re kind of gorgeous, but yeah, I am promised. I can’t.”
It was Jensen’s turn to be awkward, “Oh crap! I am so sorry. I had no idea you were in a relationship.” He whacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, “Even if you weren’t, I have turned into every creep who ever hit on me. I thought we had chemistry but it was arrogant and wrong of me. Please forgive me and tell me that you will still work for me. No funny business, purely professional.” He stuck out his hand.
Jared took it and shook firmly, “Deal. I’ll be back at 8 in the morning.” He rolled his eyes as he added, “With Chad.”
Next Chapter
Artist name: amberdreams
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: past domestic abuse, sexual language, cussing, Chad
Back to full description and chapter index.
***
Jared had to agree, Jensen’s ride was as close to a unicorn as he would get. The interior of his mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala smelled of leather, wood polish and Jensen’s cologne, while the exterior gleamed with mirror finish. The purr of the engine held the promise of a wildcat, and a whirling breeze from the rolled-down window whipped through his hair to cool the heat of the sun. Chad would not believe him, and if he did, his jealousy would know no bounds.
“Yeah, okay, it’s a unicorn,” he reluctantly agreed, and Jensen fist-pumped the air. It felt like a daytrip with a buddy he had known for years rather than a business trip, and it was a little disconcerting.
In an odd coincidence, they both banked with the local Alwyn Mutual Bank. Jared explained several times, that he did not expect to be paid any sort of retainer in advance - he would invoice for work completed. Jensen argued that he would not entertain such an arrangement. There would be wages to pay, equipment to hire, plants and seeds to purchase. Jared would present his weekly bill and it would be honoured, but, in the event that Jensen was not able to approve a purchase, the retainer would be used. Jared would have continued the argument but their bank manager, who he had begged for numerous short-term overdrafts, shot him a blatant ‘Shut up, Mr. Padalecki!’ glance. He shut up and rolled with it, resolving to keep an iron grip on his accounts. There would be no recurrence of the Spendlethift debacle.
Jensen asked for recommendations for a light lunch and Jared suggested the Pavilion Cafe in the municipal park. The surroundings were pleasant and they made great salads and light lunches at a price that Jared could afford. It wouldn’t be busy on a weekday so they could talk uninterrupted.
Lisa, the barista and an old school friend of Jared’s, greeted them and raised her eyebrows at Jensen in silent question to Jared. He beat her hopes down, introducing Jensen as new to the area and a new client, and they would sit at a quiet booth so they could talk business.
Jensen turned a million watt smile on Lisa, “It’s not quite true,” he said, “I am actually returning to the area after a long absence, but with all the changes, it does feel new to me. He offered his hand to shake hers, “Charmed to meet you.”
Jared watched their interaction with narrowing eyes. He wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be jealous. He barely knew the guy. In fact, with that Texan drawl, he hadn’t even known that he was a Burlington native. Even if it did feel like an itch of jealousy he was not going to scratch that itch. He could shake it off. “With that accent, I would have guessed Houston,” he commented.
“My mother took up and went a searchin’ for Bigfoot Wallace when I was a kid. She found a few Bigfoots, but none of ‘em were a fairy tale,” Jensen joked. “She still operates out of Austin but these days the fairy tales are for other people. The place on Ambrose Grove has some family connections for me, a great, great aunt, so I looked it up when I decided to move back. Story goes that she longed to be the lady of the house. And she charmed the young man of the house, married him and made their home a sparkling beacon of society. Far as I can tell, their marriage soured quickly and the hospitality was a sham, but the old house never deserved to fall into it’s current state of disrepair.” He shrugged, “So now I’m following my own dream. Except, I decided to renovate the house first, and work on love, after.”
Jared glanced at his face, looking for signs that Jensen was spinning a tale but there were none, “Aw, that’s romantic,” he replied in the end.
Jensen scrunched his nose up in disgust and Jared couldn’t help noticing that the smattering of freckles that scrunched with it. It was adorable. He thought he might say something else but Lisa interrupted with customer patter and coffee that frothed at the rim. He watched Jensen’s face light back up in an instant, to give her his full, flirtatious attention, and she promised to bring their food to their table.
As they navigated to a quiet booth, an old lady gathered her belongings to leave. She dropped her hat and Jensen dipped gracefully to collect it. He presented it to her, all smiles and old fashioned chivalry. Oh, yes, it was becoming obvious that Jensen could charm birds from the trees and Jared knew that charming men were trouble. It was another reason to keep his distance.
Jensen opened the conversation. “I am going to save you some trouble. Before you tell me what you think I am going to do with my gardens, and before you form any accurate or wildly inaccurate opinions of me, I am going to tell you about me - the good, the bad and the awful.” He stared at him over his cup.
Jared could admit to being blindsided, “Um. Okay. I mean, I don’t need to know anything. It’s not my business. I wasn’t going to gossip.”
“I know, but as you rightly told me, the way I live my life will affect how I use my gardens.”
“Well yes, but...”
“I am 29 years old. I have a Masters in Business and Marketing and I am a spoilt-ass trust fund kid. My mother leads a fortunate life like her parents, and like theirs before them. You get it? With careful management, fortune accumulates fortune, accumulates fortune. It’s not like I never earned my own money - my momma thought I was a cute kid, so I modeled for fashion catalogues. Should you discover a young me rocking brick pattern pants or dinosaur pajamas, then I would thank you never to bring it up. There are good reasons why I chose not to continue it.”
Jared fought not to laugh at the mental image of sweet-little-kid-Jensen, moodily posing in PJs, instead he blew the froth off his caramel cappuccino, and the leaf image, that Lisa had so carefully drawn in it, smudged and disappeared. “You totally could though,” he complimented.
“Maybe, but some of those guys…” Jensen pointed his teaspoon at Jared, “Uck!”
Jared’s smile disappeared, “There are always rumors in the media. Ew. Was it...were you?”
“My mother would have destroyed them. Nothing ever happened and it’s not the reason why I am gay.” He glanced at Jared who was trying to keep up with all his honesty without choking on his coffee. “Which, I am. One hundred percent gay with no boyfriend at present. Which is not to say that there will not be children playing in the gardens of my home, I have family and a social life, there will definitely be children.”
“That’s not a problem, not at all,” Jared reassured.
“I don’t have a proper job because I don’t need one. Instead, I swan from lunch date to dinner dance in search of other grotesquely fortunate people, to wrangle funds from their fat offshore accounts, into a registered charity close to my heart. I have the dubious title of ‘Ambassador’. In reality I am nothing but a free-loader and cash-charmer. My smile is a lie, Jared.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Not this one, this one is only for you.”
“It sounds like work to me.”
“You’re too kind, Jared. No prejudices lurking?”
“Well, since I’m bi, it would mean beating myself up and I’m not into that.”
“But you aren’t rich. I’m guessing that money does not accumulate easily for you?”
The arrow was sharp and it found its mark. He couldn’t help a tinge of bitterness in his reply, “I have never been penniless. I have an education and can work hard. It is why I mow lawns and accost strangers with my flyers.”
“It’s still not fair,” Jensen spoke softly, “And that is why we dream.”
The arrival of Jared’s chilli bean sub and Jensen’s lobster salad gave Jared time to regroup.
Jensen licked his lips, “Oh, this looks good. We should stop talking and eat.”
Jared had never been more grateful for the instruction because he wasn’t sure he could talk after watching that. He thought he might have a stupid little crush and wouldn’t that complicate things?
Jared finished every crumb of his sub and Jensen pushed his plate away with only a sliver of carrot remaining. They both sighed contentedly. Jensen asked for a coffee top up before they resumed.
“What is the charity you represent?” asked Jared, his full stomach inspiring him, “Will you be holding functions at your home? On the terrace, or in the gardens?
“Ah, bullseye! Yes, it is my intention to host tea parties, garden parties, and children’s events. Our organisation, Dream Fairies, helps children to make memories doing something extraordinary with their terminally ill parent. Sometimes, I get to organize or host the dream and that is my favourite part of the role.”
“Wow, that is amazing. Jensen, you are NOT a freeloader. What you do is incredible and kind.”
Jensen looked down and fiddled with a napkin. “Thank you,” he replied eventually. “A lot of people don’t see me that way. Outside the circuit, it doesn’t make me any friends.”
Because self confidence and popularity are not automatically bestowed with a fortune, thought Jared, as he noticed the nervous action. He felt ashamed for his initial bitterness.
“How soon do you need to have your terrace and lawn ready for a party?”
“Oh no! That’s not where we are going to start! We can tweak things later. I need you to tell me your dream for my gardens. I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to imagine that money is unlimited, time is unlimited and that your only constraints are your imagination and the topography of my land. I want you to enthuse and ramble. I want you to remember that the oak over there,” he pointed to a magnificent white oak at the edge of the park, “was planted by somebody with a vision. They never got to see the impact it makes, but their dream was important, for this park, for the birds that sing in it, and the children who play under it. When you have money, there is a difference between cost and value, and the value of that oak is immeasurable.”
Jared’s eyes widened, “You want to create a legacy?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
Jared started to talk, he let himself ramble and enthuse. He described lawn recovery, arboretums, formal and cottage gardens, ponds, organic pest control, composting, native planting and so much more.
Jensen made himself comfortable and listened.
When Jared and Jensen had progressed through contract particulars and onto a discussion about favorite bedding flowers, Jared’s silent phone vibrated in his pocket and repeated every few minutes. “Sorry, I better get this,” he said eventually.
He held the phone away from his ear as Chad yelled, “Dude! Where the hell are you? Did the rich guy kidnap you? I have been waiting for hours and the janitor is going to lock me in!”
“I said I’d come and get you at 3.”
Jensen looked at his Rolex and Jared checked his phone. They both grimaced.
“Dude, it’s 3.40, did you two get jiggy?” He was loud enough that Jared was sure Jensen must have heard. He glanced across at him. Jensen quirked an eyebrow at him but his lips quirked upward too, amused and ready to laugh.
“Chad! Shut up or you’re fired.”
“You always say that.”
“This time I mean it,” he hissed into the phone.
“No you don’t,” answered Chad and Jensen at the same time.
Jared pouted.
Jensen put on his shades, “C’mon. I’ll take us home.”
The afternoon sun reflected from the bell tower of Jensen’s house as they turned onto the bumpy drive. Jared had been so excited to explore the grounds that he hadn’t paid much heed to the house until now. It’s colonial glory had faded. There were cracks in the masonry, thick ivy crept over dirty windows, and parts of the porch were adorned with bright yellow and black ‘Danger!” signs. It would have been magnificent once, with shined marble and polished wood. Maybe it could be beautiful again, but the crowd of workmen that had descended upon it now made sense to Jared.
Jensen followed his gaze as the Impala slowed to a stop. “I know it looks impossible but I can see how my great aunt fell in love with it. Sometimes, I see a thing and I see potential. I want that thing. I know it will bring me complications. I know it is wilful of me, selfish even. I know there will be costs and heartache, but I cannot leave it alone, I have to have it. I have to believe that it will bloom and be beautiful. So, here I am, and I know I am right.” In the moment he was earnest and passionate, as if he was sharing some cosmic secret with Jared, but then he stepped out of the car, slammed the door, held up a large iron key and quipped cheerily, “Lord of the Manor!”
“Can you even live here?”
Jensen counted on his fingers, “There is running water and a microwave in the kitchen. There is one usable room downstairs, which has furnishings and my own comfortable bed, I reckon that qualifies it as a bedroom. There is a bathroom with two complete walls and several floorboards. It has a big ass shower and sometimes it even has hot water. We can check it out if you’d like to join me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Jared.
Jared’s heart sank into his stomach. He wanted to run. There were two elements of this gig that bothered him. One was going to be difficult to voice without appearing crazy, but with this, he decided to be blunt - it was how Jensen had been with him. Then again, Jensen had money and power and he had nothing without the man’s generous contract. “Look, Jensen, I am excited for this project, and I like you but, and I’m going to be frank, this is not ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ and your money doesn’t buy my body. Even if I did want to do anything,” he took a deep breath, “And you’re kind of gorgeous, but yeah, I am promised. I can’t.”
It was Jensen’s turn to be awkward, “Oh crap! I am so sorry. I had no idea you were in a relationship.” He whacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, “Even if you weren’t, I have turned into every creep who ever hit on me. I thought we had chemistry but it was arrogant and wrong of me. Please forgive me and tell me that you will still work for me. No funny business, purely professional.” He stuck out his hand.
Jared took it and shook firmly, “Deal. I’ll be back at 8 in the morning.” He rolled his eyes as he added, “With Chad.”
Next Chapter