Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 15/24
It is quiet here and safe. There are endless soft clouds and good memories. Distant friendly voices and reassurance drift in on the haze. Sometimes it is Josh or Ma but more and more he hears unknown low voices and then Jared’s mellow Texan drawl and it’s not tiring or distracting, simply warm and secure. He doesn’t want to leave but there’s the sharp smell of antiseptic cutting jagged rips into the cloud and a shrill staccato beep peppers holes in the haze. There’s a heavy mask restricting his nose and mouth, blowing alien air into him against his will and he wants to tear at it but he can feel the warm curl of fingers holding his hands down and someone is stroking his brow. He arches his back in an attempt to escape the uncalled for touches and he hears the beeping noise increase.
“Hey, Jen, listen. You coming back to us? Hang in there buddy, stop struggling. It’s just you, me and the doctor. It’s just Jared.”
He stills. The words are clear and the light behind his eyelids is different. He wonders if he can open his eyes, and what he will find there. He has a memory of Sadie, collapsed and quiet, of Jared on the floor with a flow of bright crimson blood and of a sharp needle held in his hand. There was wicked intent. He doesn’t want to see it, whether heaven or hell because that would make it final and he thought he was going to change. Make a difference and find his way. Life never works out the way you want it to. Why should death?
Another thought interrupts; Jared! Jared is here with him? It’s a notion that knocks the rest of his worries aside and he forces his lashes open. His eyes are sticky, unwilling but he continues. In candy floss dreams there had been another Jared. A gentle presence who spoke about Sadie and the color of sunlight. He had felt warm lips brush his skin and heard his whispers of intimacy. Is it too much to ask that Jared can be here, solid, and substantial?
The warm hand holding his squeezes fractionally. “Doing good, Jen. You’re going to see the doctor; she’s the gorgeous lady with the silly light to shine in your eyes. There’s a white ceiling and lots of wires and lights and machines but you mustn’t panic. Can you stay calm?”
Jensen wants to answer but his hands are softly contained. He wonders if his voice works here. He opens his mouth and a coughing ha-hum happens but there’s air forcing past his teeth and tongue, rushing to fill his lungs, taking the sound with it down a raw and painful throat.
“It’s okay. I gotcha. I gotcha Jen. No need to worry.”
Jared is right. The ceiling that meets his blurry gaze is like a double hit of Pantone White. It almost stings in its intensity. His head moves fractionally to the side and there’s a woman in a coat almost as bright. She has soft green eyes and long brunette hair and is looking down at him with a smile. He wants to scoot away from her but there’s tubes on his mask and in the back of his hand and he doesn’t know what will happen if he moves away.
“Hello, Jensen. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Staite. You’ve been asleep for three days. We thought it was time for you to wake up. You have pneumonia but you are recovering well. We had to intubate you for a time, so your throat will be a little sore. We’ve removed the air tube and you’ll do fine as long as we keep this oxygen mask on.” She’s getting gradually closer but she isn’t crowding him. His reality is starting to come into focus and he can recognize a hospital room from all the medical dramas that his mother would watch on TV. “I need you to listen to me. Can you nod if you understand me?”
Jensen flexes his neck and it co-operates. He nods.
“Good. When I let your hand go you mustn’t hit out or pull at anything around or on you. That could harm you or me. Understand?” She’s speaking, calmly and clearly, with authority, like a teacher or his Ma. He can do as she asks.
“Good.”
One hand is released but there are circles being rubbed on the other, Jensen turns his head that way. The mask rubs at his face but it doesn’t hurt. There are hazel eyes, sparkling and multi tinted and a familiar wide, red (813), mouth, parted to show white teeth. Deep dimples cut into defined cheeks and he can see Jared’s moles, count them more easily than his own freckles. There are bruises and a stitched cut on the businessman’s face but it is beautiful in its live animation because it is Jared, and he is alive, and he is right here, holding his hand and smiling.
Jensen’s eyes are wet and there’s a trickle of salt water running to his neck. He’s not sure if he’s crying but the signs meet the definition. He lets it happen and Jared lifts soft tissue to dab at the wet trail.
“I gotcha.” The hazel eyes are lowered, “I, er, don’t have to be here if you don’t want but I stayed. I can go if it upsets you.”
Jensen feels his hand being released and he grabs quickly at Jared’s fingers and pulls them back. It’s all he can do to ask him to stay. There’s a matching tear that trickles from Jared’s left eye and is wiped away with a fresh tissue.
Four days later Jared has barely left the hospital. He is pretending to work from home with occasional short trips to his office, to meet with Misha and Jeff. For now, he’s curled cosily into the side of a huge armchair that has been brought into Jensen’s private room and he’s tapping at numbers on the keyboard. His face is lined with concentration and the tip of his tongue sticks out from between his teeth.
Jensen is propped up on firm pillows, he’s no longer got a mask over his face but it’s there, clipped to a silent oxygen supply, in case he needs it. He has a puzzle book and pen but his deep green eyes are no longer looking at the page. He studies every nuance of the man he learned so well as a child. The desire to paint the brunette never leaves him. Jared is the most perfect subject Jensen has ever known. His colors are vibrant, in hues that add up to good even numbers with Jensen’s subdued shades.
Jared is counting in his head, even as he lets the computer generate his complex answers and it fascinates Jensen. All his life he has been unable to know other people. He’s been told that they have emotions and feelings like the ones that boil and race inside his own mind, but he cannot imagine them. His Ma once compared it to dyslexia, when all the letters are there but you still can’t read the text. With people, all the indicators are present, movements and pupil dilation, pulse speed and skin color. He has been taught to be observant for these things and there’s a formula he can apply that gets him part way to knowing a person’s mood, but it is tiring and still doesn’t give him the socially correct reaction. With Jared it has never been like that. All his life Jared has been his dyslexic’s audio book. It’s not perfect, there are words he doesn’t understand, but Jared is so much easier than every other book on the shelf. He loves to watch him, but touching, well touching is so very much better and for him that is something else that is unique to Jared.
Jensen gives a low hum in his throat and Jared looks up at him. “You okay. Do you need something?”
Jensen crooks a finger and beckons him over, giving a lopsided grin.
“Ask me,” taunts Jared. Jared hasn’t discussed the list in Jensen’s journal but they have had long conversations on handwritten notes. Jared has gradually drawn out some of Jensen’s innermost longings and he’s determined not to let Jensen forget some of his ambitions.
“Tuhcuh. Cuh.”
Jared stands up and slips his laptop onto the chair, “Good enough for me.”
“Nuh” Jensen points to the laptop and beckons again.
“You want to see?”
Jensen nods, he’s tiring of the game and Jared lets it go. The tall businessman flicks his hair from his face as he sits on the edge of the bed by him. Jensen thinks this will be easier if they can look at it together so he pats the bed by his side and scoots over.
“You want me next to you?”
“mhm”
Jared scrambles up the bed to lie next to him. He’s strong and solid, warm and a little sweaty. Jensen inhales him, throws an arm round his shoulder and pulls him close, to rest his head in the crook of Jensen’s arm. Jared doesn’t object, just relaxes into the embrace and exhales slowly.
Jensen reads through the text of Jared’s document and then squints at the numbers. He makes use of the hospital’s wifi and his fingers speed over the keyboard as he applies geography, population and an assortment of factors and statistics. He doesn’t need to look at the distribution network or factories. He’s been doing these projections for Padalecki products for years based on estimates, previous sales and public knowledge. He always reviews his results and generally he isn’t far from the final totals. He’s every bit as familiar with Nana’s operation and he thinks the final prediction is realistic, if a little adventurous. He hands the laptop back to Jared who is looking at him in open-mouthed admiration. “How did you do that?” He asks.
Jensen shrugs, grabs the computer back and types at the bottom of his page, it’s easy.
“You think Padalecki should try to do this?”
Yes. You can hook Danneel through Jeff ;) Besides it showcases Nana’s new product for them, at a fraction of the usual marketing cost.
The cursor blinks and then fingers move again, rainbow cakes with rainbow frosting, who can argue with that? Now I’m hungry.
It’s an easy banter that has been developing ever since Jensen came out of his coma and it feels natural.
Jared chuckles. “Dude I am not baking cakes for you. You can flash your pretty eyelashes at Christian, Katie or Sophia for them. I’d leave Chad out of it if you want to get out of this hospital.”
The cursor flashes again and Jensen knows he’s staring at Jared’s mouth. He types with deliberation, KISS ME, and then closes the lid and moves the laptop to the bedside table. There’s a look of surprise on Jared’s face, his lips are slightly parted and Jensen angles his head down to capture them with his own. Jensen kisses with force; he likes the press of it, the slide and suck and the taste of Jared’s tongue as he pushes into his mouth. Jared doesn’t pull away or jump from the bed so Jensen deepens the kiss and puts a hand around Jared’s neck and tangles his hands through the silky hair that curls softly under. This tastes every bit as good as the kiss in Jared’s house and the kiss in the shower and Jensen finally thinks he understands a fraction of the emotions that ordinary couples might share. This is addicting but he needs to breathe. He stops to take a throaty breath and then dives back in for another while Jared looks mildly surprised.
Jensen traces his hand over Jared’s shoulder, pushes the brunette flat to the bed and then loops a leg over Jared’s and rolls halfway on top of him without unlatching his lips. His cock is hardening in his soft pajama trousers and he can feel the growing bulge in Jared’s trousers. He chases the friction between them and gasps. Their lips part and Jared is pushing at his shoulders. Pushing him away.
“Woah, Jen. Stop!”
He continues for a moment. He can feel Jared’s eager erection and he doesn’t understand the rejection.
“Jensen, c’mon, no.”
Jared has untangled himself from Jensen and is scrambling from the bed. This is bad wrong. Jensen has done something to Jared that you don’t do to friends, and Jared must be disgusted. Jensen grabs the hospital linen in his hands and flings it off, his feet are over the edge of the bed, and he’s poised to run. Long arms wrap around him from behind, he wants to hit out, and he’s coughing with the exertion and panic.
“Hold on. Stop right there, Jensen. Look at me.”
Jensen is still too weak to object. Jared removes one arm and reaches for the oxygen mask. “Take a breath and calm down because you’ve got nothing to run from.” Jared moves to his side, “Can I kiss you? Just a little one?” He asks.
Jensen stays still and Jared takes it as his cue to move in and land a series of tiny butterfly kisses to Jensen’s nose, cheek and neck. Every one is surprising in its own way. Jensen isn’t sure he is comfortable with these uninitiated touches but they don’t hurt and they tickle pleasantly.
Jared speaks soft but deliberately firmly, “I love it when you kiss me Jensen. What we started just now, I want it,” Jared gives an involuntary groan, “I really want it, believe me, Jen but we’re in a hospital which is a very public place and you are supposed to be recovering. I have to restrain myself, and I’m sorry if it’s tough on you. It’s like taking medicine or having these tubes and wires, it’s not nice but it’s necessary.”
Jensen feels bewildered and small. He tunes Jared out and sits statue-like. It is a jolt from the past, a throw-back to the moments that Josh scolded him or highlighted inappropriate behaviour. It’s a demonstration that his Ma was right, that he can never be good in the eyes of God.
He feels strong arms manipulating him and soft covers being pulled over his chest. He struggles against the confinement of the oxygen mask but then settles and leaves it there. He can see all of the room from his position. There is a full fruit bowl and splashes of color in curtains and on furniture. The floor is tiled in a blue, white and black symmetrical pattern. He studies each shade, assesses the quality of light from the lamps and natural sunlight and mentally assigns a Pantone number to every color in the room. Everything else fades away. Somewhere, in another reality Jared is still speaking but it isn’t clear.
After a while Jensen senses that he is alone, and he’s good with that. He would like to have Sadie by his side, but the quiet emptiness of alone is relaxing, a taste of freedom.
Doctor Singh lowers his glasses on his nose. “Mr. Padalecki, you have to understand that while you are paying me, I am not one of your lackeys. Your money will not influence me. You are paying me to act in the best interest of Jensen Ackles and I will do that. If I do not think it is in Jensen’s best interest to take your offer of bed and board, then I will encourage him to refuse the offer. How will you cope with that? Had you thought about it?”
“I’m told you are the best in your field. I am going to respect your expertise, but I will expect practical advice on the alternatives and I do not accept that a place in a mental health institution is appropriate.”
Dr. Singh leans back in his chair. “You’re correct. It isn’t.” The medical man steeples his fingers, “We would have to find other avenues. You say that there are friends and you think he may have independent financial means. Perhaps he could consider a sheltered accommodation or assisted housing space.”
Jared nods. “Can I get information on that?”
“Of course. How do you think Jensen will react to me? He may not like the idea of you assigning him a shrink. If your friend does not want my help then I will not force it on him. He has to choose to work with me.”
“I know that there’s things he wants to change, and he’s ready to get help for that.”
“Mr. Padalecki, I’ve seen his notes. I don’t assign labels to anybody, but Jensen’s behavior loosely fits into the Asperger’s spectrum of disorders. We can help him modify his lifestyle, so he copes more easily with stress and social interaction but there isn’t a cure for him. He will never be normal by most of society’s standards. The world is a damning place, and he isn’t going to meet all its criteria. This is something he has to learn to make the best of and if you choose to stay by his side you will have to support that. There is a niche for him. He only has to find it.”
“He’s extraordinary. I don’t want that to change, I just want him to achieve his goals. I want him to be happy.” Jared anxiously flicks his hair.
“You asked about speech therapy, and I have somebody who I think will work well with him but I’d like to know why you think we can succeed. Jensen has been silent since he was brought into this hospital.”
“No, he’s already making noises. He used to speak. Years ago when we were in kindergarten he would speak properly. I’m not sure why he stopped or how long ago but I know he can do it and I’m sure he wants to.”
The doctor nods sagely, “Some children go through a phase of elective mutism. It is possible it was never dealt with. After a lengthy silence it can be frightening to try again and easy to forget how words are formed. We can explore it.”
“Good. That’s good.” Jared is threading his fingers together in a distracting movement.
Dr. Singh looks to Jared’s hands and looks to his face again, “There are some things I need to know about your relationship before I commit to this. Are you in an intimate relationship with Jensen?”
Jared stops his movement and has to think. He doesn’t know what it is he has with Jensen. “I, I don’t know.”
“Let me put it simply. Have you had sexual relations with Jensen?”
Jared falters again, “Well not exactly, we did um, we kissed and there are things we did but not sex, sex.”
“Do you want to have sexual intercourse with Jensen? Don’t be shy, I’m a therapist.”
“Yes,” Jared blushes, “but not just sex, the whole shebang, a relationship, as much as he’s able.”
“Mmhm.” Dr. Singh takes his glasses off and huffs on them. “You are adults. There is nothing wrong with you both wanting a full relationship and no reason to think it would be a bad thing for Jensen. How do you imagine it will work? Who will steer? Does he know how to say no? Just as important, does he understand when you say no? Are your motives purely ones of attraction or are you drawn to his neediness? What will happen if he no longer needs your charity or wants your attention? What if it is you looking for his attention and he cannot give it?” He polishes each lens with a soft cloth and waits for Jared to think about it.
Jared shrugs, his decision is already made, the rest he is determined to work out with Jensen, “The attraction is real. I am sure of it. There won’t be a problem.”
“On the contrary, I can guarantee there will be difficulties. Even the best matched partners will struggle to cope with issues arising from this type of disorder and your disparate backgrounds. I like to be an optimist, but I am a realist too Mr. Padalecki, and as you kindly pointed out, I am an expert. I will take Jensen on, but only on the condition that you see a colleague of mine. You will be expected to participate in some joint sessions.” He holds out a card to Jared.
“I don’t need therapy.” There’s a flash of anger rising in him.
“Of course not. There is no need for it but there would be benefit in it for Jensen, and you have asked me to act in his best interest.”
Jared visibly deflates. “Oh. Yeah. Do I call? Do you?”
“I will refer you. I will ensure that you are given priority. The therapist will call you to book the first appointment.”
Jared routinely checks the security outside Jensen’s room and then pokes his head in. Jensen’s eyes are closed and his breathing is steady. The blue tinge has left his skin and there is a hint of pink in his cheeks. He listens but there is only a trace of crackle in his breath. If Jensen continues to make good progress he is expected to be discharged in two days time and that will bring a whole new set of difficulties to overcome. Not least of which is Jeff who is currently in his guest bedroom oblivious to Jared’s activities and intentions. Jared walks softly to collect his belongings and leaves a note on Jensen’s nightstand. Sophia and Chad are coming in to see their friend later and he is gradually learning that Jensen sometimes needs time alone.
He takes a cab to his next meeting and he’s nervous. Jim Beaver greets him, the whiskered man is dressed smartly and even his shoes are shined. “You still want to do this, Boy?”
Jared fills his lungs and holds it before blowing out loudly. “Yes. Let’s go.”
Jim tips his chauffeur’s cap and climbs in the driver’s seat of the long black car.
Jeff is late out of his office but the limousine idles and Jared waits patiently, behind the blackened windows. Jeff slides into his seat without a glance and Jim takes off before the door is fully closed. Jared reaches over his brother’s lap to grab at the handle to slam it shut.
Jeff’s expression cycles from one of terror at the thought of being kidnapped, through to confusion when he notes that it is his brother seated beside him.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your ass from jail; we need to talk.”
“We live in the same house Jared.”
“I need you to take me seriously. We’re taking a tour.” The car pulls up outside the charred remains of the Linden factory. “People died here Jeff. There’s a funny thing about events like this, they force you to investigate motive. Now, the police have been looking at our industrial dispute, whereas I took a look at our accounts. Money is a strong motivator. The odd thing is, while there were no irregularities at Linden, I did find an open back door to our accounts in general. That is always gonna be suspicious, so I got myself a metaphorical shovel and I started digging. Tell me a story Jeff. Make it good.”
By midnight they are in an abandoned warehouse and Jeff is pale and trembling. He’s tried to run twice but Jim’s men have taken him down. There are copies of photographs and statements from the original Becks report that their father had buried. There are accounts ledgers and copies of signed transactions, spread over the screen of two laptops. Jim is talking them through the process of money laundering.
“Why?” Jared is bone-tired and sick to the core.
Jeff shakes his head, there’s still fear in his eyes but Jared can see his resistance crumbling. “I can’t.”
“You signed off transactions that weren’t real; you had to know what you were doing. When did it all start with Misha? This isn’t you Jeff. This isn’t the sort of thing you would willingly get mixed up in.”
“You know when.”
“Becks?”
“Not entirely. I mean yes. It’s what he’s got on me but the Collins business has always had this side to it. You have to have been a complete innocent not to have noticed the way that the Collins family work, their meteoric rise and the heavy handed tactics.” Jeff flicks his eyes to Jim. “You’re not shy of using the same methods Jared. Misha isn’t evil; he just doesn’t know any other way of doing business. He doesn’t have an out.”
Jim stiffens and leans heavily toward Jeff with dangerous intent in his eyes, “I ain’t some second rate gangster, boy. I am an independent professional, a whole different proposition. I’d say it’s best you never compare me that way again.”
Jared puts an arm out to push Jim back and speaks, “You let him bring his dirty tactics to our business. You said he would protect me and my interests.”
“He offered to come and we needed him. He kept you on track and motivated. Without him, you would have given up and let Padalecki slide. Two years is a long time in business and you could have taken us down entirely. I don’t want you to win but I do want the business to stay afloat. I didn’t look too closely. If I wasn’t noticing irregularities they couldn’t be too significant. All he’s ever wanted to do is keep you safe. His family adore you. You’re their golden boy. You’re more his little brother than mine. Why do you think he encouraged you to go to college and stay out of the Collins’ business?”
“He’s done enough to put us all in jail, Jeff, and he’s killed. You are going to do time for the Linden fire and I am certain it wasn’t you.”
“He hasn’t killed anyone. He wouldn’t do that.” Jeff is shouting at his younger brother in denial.
“Jeff. Grow up. I am absolutely sure he had a part in Linden, and you can’t ignore all of that.” Jared points to the Becks data in frustration.
“There was no gain in burning down Linden. It can’t have been him, he wouldn’t do that to me and he wouldn’t hurt you, he thinks the fucking world of you,” Jeff protested.
“Too late! I’ve been hurting for years. I thought I’d killed my friend. Don’t you get that? Josh was my friend.” Jared is shouting, inches from Jeff’s face. He doesn’t even notice the tears tracking down his own face.
“No!” Jeff doesn’t want to hear it. “We don’t mix with trailer trash.” He’s shaking his head in disbelief, “Misha said, you were making a fool of yourself, I didn’t want to believe him but he had photos of you with Josh, in his gang. You had your arm around him for god’s sake! It’s why Misha set you up, why it had to be your CD player, so that Josh would never trust you again.”
Jared’s voice rose again, yelling back at his brother, “You still think that Josh was supposed to come out of that alive? The CD player, the bullshit about Cindy, it was so we were both implicated. You said it yourself the other night, it was about me and Josh and you two would have done anything to prevent me from hanging out with him. Josh was never meant to survive. Our involvement let Misha off the hook, gave him our father’s support and has had you in his hands ever since. You may not have covered the vents but there is only one other person who had access to my CD player. Only you could have doctored the plug. You are good with electronics, always have been.”
“I didn’t want to kill him but I didn’t want the plan to fail. He couldn’t think you were being genuinely kind. How could you be one of his silly little fanboys? Josh bullied you.”
There’s a cold despair and disgust in Jared’s voice as he retaliates, “You bullied me Jeff. Josh hadn’t touched me since kindergarten. He had a better heart than either of you. ”
Jeff is tensing for a fight and two of Jim’s men pull him back. “Cool off!” Jim’s voice cuts through the thick atmosphere. “This isn’t going anywhere. Jared, go take a walk. Jeff you stay. I have some evidence from Becks and Linden that you should see.”
There’s a muted atmosphere when Jeff and Jared finally return home at 2 a.m. Jeff collapses on the sofa and flips the TV on.
“You should sleep.” Jared suggests in a fake helpful tone.
“Don’t baby me.” Jeff grates in reply. “Do I even have a bed any more?”
“Of course you do. Don’t get snarky.”
“I thought you needed a place for your darling little retard.”
“There’s some furnishings ordered for the studio. There are a few rugs, some curtains and a bed for him. It will do fine for now. His name is Jensen and if you value your freedom you will treat him with respect or keep the fuck out of our way.”
“You know, our Pa, Misha, everyone was wrong about you. They all saw a vulnerable, pansy-boy but you’re one ruthless bastard. You surprised everyone. You don’t even need Misha. What will you do with Padalecki Inc. when I’m in prison or dead? Break it up and sell it in pieces? Turn it into a bleeding hearts home for crazy people?”
“You’re not going to prison, Jeff. We’ll get through this and whatever happens to Padalecki Inc. isn’t important as long as we keep the workers’ jobs. I never wanted it, you can have it. I have Grandma’s inheritance, this house and enough contacts in the art world to get by. What I can’t do without, are the people I love.”
“Wow.” Jeff leans back against the soft cushions and Jared can sense his close scrutiny. “Does that include Ackles?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out and you are going to let me.”
“I thought Misha was your soul-brother. Are you really going to sell him out?”
“We can’t rescue him from the place he’s in. All we can do is pull ourselves out and hope he finds his own way.”
“It’s a death sentence. You want to live with that?”
“If he isn’t guilty then it won’t come to that, and I’m willing to let him walk away for a few fiscal offences. I’m not letting him take you or Jensen from me.”
It’s seven in the morning when Jared wakes Jeff and tosses a cell phone at him. Jeff scowls and tries to give it back. “Get on with it, Jeff.”
It’s on speaker and Jared hears the ring tone and then Misha’s cheery reply. “Good morning campers. Where is the emergency?”
Jared glares at Jeff and Jeff addresses Misha, “It’s in Nevada, Misha. Damn figures won’t add up for the auditors whatever they do and we don’t need them looking too closely. If I free up your time and square something with Jared will you go down there?”
There’s a long silence and Jared’s heart sinks, getting Misha away from Head Office is a pivotal part of the plan. “There better not be shitty accommodation and business class travel.”
Jared holds up one finger.
“No, all first class and five star. They made the mistakes. They’ll have to cover your expenses.”
“Cool beans. Meet you at the office for the details?”
Jared creeps into Jensen’s hospital room and watches him. He can see that he is in a better mood and there’s a peaceful glow to his face as he sketches the vase of flowers that stands in a pool of sunlight, by the window.
“Hey.” Jared speaks but Jensen is absorbed in his task. Jared walks to the end of the bed and waves. Jensen startles and then slowly lowers his paper to the bed. “It’s okay, don’t mind me, just wanted to say good morning.”
Jensen waves back and there’s a discernible upturn to his lips. He grabs at a notepad and pen. You’re late, he scrawls hastily.
“Am I too late for a kiss?”
Just a kiss? writes Jensen, he looks very serious.
“Your kisses should never be described as just a kiss, maybe I should say only a kiss for now.”
I have to learn boundaries, replies Jensen.
Jared sits down next to him and shushes him. “No rules, just relax.” Jensen reaches out his hand and cautiously cups Jared’s chin. He rubs a thumb along the smoothly shaved chin and angles his face before diving in for a kiss that rocks Jared’s world. It is hard and heady, and Jensen leads naturally, like he has every time. Jared loses himself in the rough suck and slide, the clashing teeth and nipped lip. When they pull apart with the soft sound of suction Jensen peppers kisses over Jared’s chin and nuzzles at his neck to bite a substantial purple hickey which he sucks with enthusiasm.
Jared’s heart is pumping fast and all the blood is rushing to his groin, he groans and palms the heel of his hand at his burgeoning erection. “Jesus. Fuck! So good Jen. You’re gonna tempt me too far.”
Jensen backs up and sits very primly with his hands over his lap. Jared grins. At least Jensen can hide his excitement under the covers Jared is going to need to think of maths equations and train crashes. Jensen scoots over and pats the space on the bed and Jared slides into place beside him. They fit together perfectly and Jensen is firm, warm and comfortable by his side.
“Can I look?” Jared points to the sketch pad and Jensen shyly turns the cover. The sketch is not nearly finished but the shape is there and it will be a faithful interpretation of the subject. Jared reaches to smudge and blend a fraction of the pastel. “There, see.”
Jensen copies the action in another part of the picture and they both nod approval.
Jared risks a question, “Your pictures are excellent. I could have sold them when I had my gallery. Who taught you?”
Jensen’s fingers drum on the bedcovers before he hastily writes a few sentences. Grandma Padalecki sometimes came to our trailer but Josh wasn’t to tell anyone. She didn’t want your Pa to be upset with her. He was angry with me but your grandma was an angel.
“She was. I loved her a lot. She did everything for me after Ma left. I wish I’d known. I could have come with her,” Jared says wistfully.
No, she said it was you who gave her the idea, after an art class, but your Pa would be mad at you if he knew.
“I guess she was right and anyway I was a complete dick back then.”
Jensen knocks Jared’s elbow with his arm and grins, you weren’t that bad, well maybe a little.
They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes and then Jensen is scratching in his notebook again, Doctor Singh called in to see me.
Jared is about to reply but Jensen is continuing to write and Jared doesn’t like to interrupt. He was worried that you might take advantage of me.
“Oh.” Jared doesn’t know what to say. It’s to be expected.
I told him I want to go home with you so I can sleep in your bed, lick you all over and have anal sex with you.
Jared’s eyes widen and his mouth forms an ‘0’.
Dr. Singh wants to see me again so we can discuss boundaries and socially appropriate language. He doesn’t want me to take advantage of you.
Jared reads the entire thing and he can’t help himself, sore ribs be damned, he lets out a loud guffaw and laughs till there are tears in his eyes. He sobers enough to look Jen in the eye, “You are welcome to sleep in my bed, lick me all over and have anal sex with me. Any time.” There’s a delicious shiver that travels his spine, and he’s hot in all the right places. He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Jensen’s ear and whispers into it, “I can hardly wait for you to fuck me.”
The tips of Jensen’s ears redden and Jared thinks it’s adorable.
The pen moves over paper again. Are we dating?
Jared wraps his arm loosely around Jensen’s waist, “We probably are. Yes.”
I think I’m going to see Dr. Singh a lot. Thanks for sending him.
Jensen is attentive and bright and Jared loathes ruining the mood but he knows he cannot lie to him or leave him in the dark about his plans.
“Jen, there are some serious things that I need to say to you, and I don’t want you to agree to come home with me until you hear me out. Does that make sense to you?”
Jensen gives a thumbs-up, which is a positive sign that he is concentrating.
“The man who tried to kill you is dead, but there are others who might want to hurt you. I think it is to do with Padalecki Inc., and because of me.”
Jensen grabs hold of his hand and squeezes, he looks anxious.
Jared continues, “I need your help to stop them. When we go back to my house they will know that you are alive, and it will be dangerous until we end it.”
We should tell Detective Pearson, writes Jensen.
“I can’t. It’s complicated and there are lots of reasons. One of them is that nobody knows we killed that man. You can think about it. Or just say no and we will find you somewhere far away, where you can be safe.”
Jensen shakes his head vehemently, you’ll still be in danger, you’re my boyfriend, show me what help you need because I’m coming home with you.
Jared opens his mouth to argue and Jensen sticks two fingers on his lips and then kisses the dispute away.
Part 16
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