Smoke & Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder [40/?]
MASTER POST
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (40/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Adult.
Wordcount: 4,974
Summary: AU. Jared's a classic case of rich kid gone wrong, whose only sense of family comes from his motorbike, the guy he rents a garage from to live in and the precinct cops who know his face better than most already. Jensen's a hard-working student whose family are helping push him towards great things. What happens when their two worlds collide, and will Jared's troublesome nature be too much for Jensen to handle?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Holy crap, you guys, this fic just hit over 150,000 words total. O.o And over 200 readers. You're all awesome for sticking with us, thank you so much! xxxx
Oh, and Adorable THANKS you for all your kind patience. We hope to be back to regular schedule from now on, and I hope you have a lot of time set aside for our coming chapters. The next one? I kind of got VERY carried away. ~coughs~ Hee.
CHAPTER FORTY
It was his own snoring that woke him up. One loud snort caught in the back of his throat and seemed to echo through the room. Not entirely aware yet, Jensen lifted his head and looked around. He was overly warm, and his body was slightly sweaty where skin was pressed up against skin. He swallowed against a dry throat and blinked his eyes hard. Jared's leg was draped over his own legs, and his arm flopped across Jensen's midriff. His hand was resting comfortably against Jensen's groin, where a morning erection had already begun to form. Stretching right down to his toes, Jensen reached down and set his hand over Jared's, pressing the man's hand down against his erection. Smiling, he looked down to his chest, where Jared's head was propped.
Only, it wasn't Jared's head. It was Chris's.
Startled, Jensen's mouth hung open for a moment and he looked around the garage, desperate for something, someone to save him. He adored Chris, that much was true, but they'd already had their share of awkward moments about this very topic. He didn't remember snuggling up to the man so close, but they'd had quite a bit to drink.
Damn it.
Jensen pushed Chris's arm off of him. His own arm was wrapped around Chris's shoulders, holding him. Of course it was. He'd thought Chris was Jared. He tried to wriggle out from underneath Chris without waking the man, but his arm was stuck. Instead, he decided to start from the other end. With his knee, he lifted Chris's leg off of his and started to slide off the sofa. Chris's leg flopped back down, bumping up against Jensen's groin. He really had to pee, and now the pain sent sparking through him made him whimper. He took a moment to recover, and then tried again. Chris had always been a heavy sleeper, but this was ridiculous. Jensen worked his legs out from underneath Chris's. On his knees beside the sofa, he tugged gently at his arm. It was starting to fall asleep from the odd angle. Jensen leaned in closer to try and lift Chris's head off of his arm with his free hand.
Just as he was pressed close to Chris again, the man awoke.
"Jesus Christ!" Chris said loudly, his body jerking. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," Jensen apologized, finally getting his arm free. "I must've thought you were Jay."
"What?" He sat up on the sofa, raking his fingers through his hair. "Why, what'd we do?"
"What? Nothing, you freak," Jensen scowled at him. "We were just... Kind of touching."
"Touching where?"
Jensen sighed. "Why the hell are you so freaked by this?"
"Because I just woke up to find you in my face."
"Please," Jensen scoffed. "You've been hot for me from day one."
Chris snorted out a laugh. "I think not, my good friend," he corrected. "You've wanted in my pants since you met me."
"I have not."
"Have too."
"Not."
"Too."
"All right, children."
Jensen recognized Jared's voice. He turned and looked up to the second level. Sure enough, Jared was there, clad in only a pair of torn jeans. His hair was tousled, and he had a good shadow of beard stubble. He was smiling, sitting on the edge of the loft, long legs dangling over the side. Jensen saw the man's happy expression and narrowed his eyes at him.
"You set us up like that, didn't you?"
Jared laughed. "You guys are so fucking easy."
Chris stood and smiled sarcastically up at Jared. "I kind of hate you right now."
Jared laughed harder, while Jensen just rolled his eyes. "No, you don't," he said. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast. Master Prankster, are you coming along?"
In a move that made Jensen stop breathing for an instant, Jared turned around in his place, legs dangling from the loft. He lowered himself down as far as his long arms would allow, and then dropped down to the garage floor. Jensen, arms out to attempt to catch the man, instead set a hand to his heart. Once he realized Jared was safe and grinning, he smacked the flat of his palm against the man's chest.
"You're a jerk," he said. "You just scared the crap out of me."
Laughing evilly, Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist, pulling him in for a kiss. He formed his hands to the curve of Jensn's backside and squeezed gently. "You love me though," he told him.
Jensen's lashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes. "Lord knows why," he smiled.
With each push-up, Jared grunted slightly, exhaling forcefully through pursed lips. Jensen, who had just finished his own set of sit-ups, reclined nearby, watching him. His eyes focused on the lines of straining muscle underneath Jared's tanned, tattooed skin. The man's form was flawless, his stamina staggering. Although, Jensen had already gotten a glimpse of the stamina by Jared's lovemaking. His eyes travelled down Jared's shirtless back, skin glistening with sweat. They were due in the boxing ring next, just after two spanish men that constantly, playfully snapped obscenities back and forth at each other. Part of Jensen didn't want to practice boxing. He wished the rest of the crowds would disperse, that the place would be empty like it was the first time Jared had brought him here. He wanted to stretch Jared out on the canvas, cover every inch of his body that he could with wet, nipping kisses.
Blinking his eyes, Jensen forced himself out of his dream world. Jared was just finishing up his reps, grunting out the numbers he had been counting silently. It was the first night Jared had had off in a week. Jensen would have been happy staying in and making Jared breathless in an entirely different way, but Jared had made him come out to the gym to work off some of his energy.
Jensen wondered, for just a moment, if something was wrong with him. Surely it was normal for a man to be preoccupied by sex, but Jensen sometimes felt far too obsessed with it. He saw it in everything, was willing to do it just about anywhere, even if he knew he would suffer terrible embarassment later. Hell, it had even crept out when Chris was around, and that made for some very uncomfortable conversations.
It was all Jared's fault, being so sexy and all.
He must have drifted off again because the next thing he knew, Jared was standing next to him, his hand stretched out. "Ready?"
Looking up, Jensen took hold of Jared's hand and pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah," he answered.
"Good," Jared smiled. "I want to see that ass in action. Which reminds me..." He reached around and smacked Jensen's backside with a playful hand. "I'll have to set up the video camera again sometime."
That shouldn't be turning me on, Jensen thought silently.
All Jared's fault.
Sat upon the sofa, Jared's hand slipped up Jensen's sweat-slicked skin, fingers pressing hard enough to dimple flesh and scrape his nails, leaving slight red welts. His hands continued up to Jensen's face, then into his hair, fingers curling into fists there. Not enough to hurt, just enough to hold onto him, keep him in the rough, bruising kiss. The sofa squeaked softly with their movements, Jensen straddling Jared's waist, their heavy breathing matching the rhythm of their bodies. Jensen's hand, hidden between their bodies, kept their lube-slathered cocks pressed together, and both of their hips ground mercilessly against the other's.
Behind the sofa, and off to the side a little bit, was a used-but-in-good-condition golf bag. Protruding from it were four golf putters, one nice wood driver and one nearly-new chipper. Jared had surprised Jensen with them, sticking a store-bought, cheap red bow upon what he assumed was the front of the golf bag. Then, he attached a different color bow to each of the golf clubs.
"Where did you get these?" Jensen had asked. He'd had a brand new set when he had lived with his parents. As a matter of fact, he and his father would go out every other Sunday afternoon for a round of golf with the high society folk. Part of Jensen missed that. The game, rather than the company.
"I found 'em," Jared shrugged. "I know Jeff got you the golf balls for Christmas. Thought it might be nice to have some way to lob them around."
Jensen had eyed him at that point. "You found them, or you stole them?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Jared!"
"Calm down, I bought them," he had said. "They were at the second-hand store, okay?"
Jensen had smiled. "And you got them for me."
"I did not," he had teased. "I got them for my other hot lover."
"Shut up," Jensen had laughed. He took the chipper out of the bag and looked it over. Sure, it was worn, and it wasn't a full-set, but he was touched that Jared had thought of him and spent his hard-earned money on something for him. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."
Jared yanked one of the four putters out of the bag, ripped the bow off and reached out to Jensen with it. He worked the blade of the club underneath the collar of Jensen's shirt and tugged gently. "So, don't talk," he'd grinned.
Jensen had quickly given in after that. The putter that Jared had had a hold of was still on the garage floor, but the chipper had been placed back into the worn, weathered golf bag. It hand't taken them long to decide that the furthest they could make it was onto the sofa. Clothes were quickly strewn about so that naked skin could press up against more naked skin.
Jared took one look down at their bodies, muscle straining together, before looking back up into Jensen's eyes, the color seeming clearer, softer than before, lashes delicate against his skin as the lids drifted closed. Jared pulled him in for another kiss, his tongue hungrily searching out Jensen's. His breath, already ragged, suddenly came in short gasps. He held it in his lungs for just a moment, before letting his mouth fall open wider, a gruff moan escaping him. Jensen felt the sudden rush of warmth spilling over their chests and bellies, smelled the stickyness within it, and felt himself tense as well. He moved a few more times, his spine moving so that his head came to rest upon Jared, in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He growled and shuddered almost violently as he came, his mouth open against Jared's neck.
Stillness settled over the garage again. With heavy eyes, Jared looked around. The TV was still on, the program long ago forgotten about. Their work-out clothes were strewn about, some upon the sofa, some on the floor. Jared's underwear was draped across a corner of the television, having been thrown over Jensen's shoulder. Breathing heavy, Jared set his hands to Jensen's hips. "Goddamn fucking rabbits," he said, sated and happy.
Jensen rolled off of him, sitting as he had been before he'd gotten distracted away from television with the clubs. "See what happens when you have a night off?"
Smiling, Jared turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm not around as much as I used to be."
Jensen shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "It'd be the same way if I was working."
It was quiet, Jared just looking at Jensen. "I'm proud of you, you know," he finally said.
Chuckling, Jensen scowled at him. "Why?"
"For sticking with this whole school thing."
"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You stuck with it."
Jared waved off Jensen's smile. "Nah. After Mom died, I kind of lost interest in most things."
Smiling brighter, Jensen nudged him with his shoulder. "Until I came along," he said.
Looking at him, Jared returned the smile as he nodded his head. "Until you came along," he agreed.
"Because you love me."
"Mm," he nodded, inching in closer for a soft kiss.
Jensen let Jared kiss him, and then carefully bumped foreheads with him. "So tell me."
"I have."
"Not those exact words."
Jared snorted out a laugh. "If you didn't get it from what just happened between us, then three stupid words aren't going to make one fucking difference," he told him.
Jensen frowned. "It's nice to hear it now and then."
Jared stared at him, a smile upon his face. It was silent for several seconds until he clapped a hand onto Jensen's knee and then stood from the sofa. He reached for his underwear and slipped into it. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said.
Sighing, Jensen remained on the sofa.
As earlier promised -- and ordered by Jared -- Jensen showed up at Mickey's around nine-thirty, closer to ten. He didn't need to tell the bouncer who he was, only that Chris was his guest. The place seemed even more packed than usual. Jensen wondered if it was due to the new bartender. He still believed what he had said to Jared long ago - people just flocked to him. Weaving through the throngs of people, Jensen led the way to the bar. The music was loud. People danced on the hardwood dance floor. Lights of every color flashed around them. Swallowing hard, Jensen looked around. He felt that old nervousness begin to show itself and, for a moment, he wanted to run away. He still wasn't a fan of big crowds. What grounded him was the feel of Chris's arm coming to rest upon his shoulders. He looked over at him, watching his friend nod towards the bar.
"There he is," Chris said.
Jensen turned, seeing Jared behind the bar, laughing as boisterously as he always did. He was serving a group of rough-looking bikers and their girls. They were all clad in leather, spikes and chains. Used to be, Jensen would have avoided the group of rough-housers, waited outside to talk to Jared. Now, however, he was slightly more used to the lifestyle. He strolled up to the bar, to the side of the bikers, and leaned against the counter, smiling when he caught Jared's eye.
"Hey, speak of the devil," Jared laughed, while pouring a mug of draft for one of the biker's girlfriends.
Jensen noticed that the bikers glanced his way, smiling and nodding a hello. "Been talking about me?" He asked.
Jared handed over the mug of beer and accepted a wad of cash from one of the bikers. "This round's on me," the man said in a gruff voice. Jared nodded and moved to the cash register.
"Talking, dreaming," he finally answered Jensen. "You name it."
Jensen laughed and shook his head while Jared handed change over to the man.
The biker waved it off. "The rest is for you," he said.
"Aw, thanks, man," Jared grinned. "Jen, this is Necro, a friend of mine."
Jensen nodded and reached over to shake the man's hand. "Necro, this is Chris."
"Necro?" Chris repeated as he shook the man's hand. "Nice."
Necro motioned to the others with him. "The girls are Tiffy, Amber, Dharma and Muff."
Chris snorted out a laugh. "Muff."
"The fellas are Andy, Drift, Marcus and Satan."
Jensen's eyes grew wider at the mention of the last name. "S-Satan?"
Satan, who looked like he could play quite the convincing evil part, glanced in Jensen's direction and nodded his head ever-so-slightly. "Yo."
Nervously, Jensen nodded back. "H-hi."
The group departed, saying a heartfelt, "Later, losers," to Jared, Jensen and Chris. Jared turned away from Jensen and Chris for a moment and returned with two bottles of beer. He popped the caps off and handed them over.
"On the house," Jared declared.
"Jay," Jensen said. "You can't keep doing that."
"Watch me," he grinned, winking at Jensen.
It was still early to the party-goers. Most of them hadn't even really gotten to the bar yet. Jensen took advantage of the momentary lull in patrons and hefted himself up, leaning against the bar. He leaned in closer to Jared and smiled. "When's your break?"
"Whenever I fucking want," he grinned back. He gave Jensen a quick kiss and nodded to the doorway behind the bar. "Rock! I'm on a ten!"
"Yo," Rock acknowledged. It would be just him and Darlene, another bartender, working the floor for a few minutes.
Jensen looked back at Chris before he headed off to the back room with Jared. "Be right back!"
Chris smiled and shook his head. He sat down upon one of the barstools and waved Jensen away. "I'll be here," he said.
From behind, Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared, laughing when the man had to walk awkwardly to accomodate him. The break-room door opened and Jensen was pulled inside. Jared pressed his own back against the door and yanked Jensen closer, kissing him, pressing their bodies close together.
Suddenly, there was a low growl and a loud bark. Startled, Jensen spun around, gasping aloud. "What the..."
Laying on the floor was a grey, blue-eyed, white-sock pitbull, complete with a leather, spiked collar. Jensen pressed his back against Jared's chest and almost squeaked.
"It's a dog," Jared told him.
"It's a pitbull," Jensen clarified.
"Thank you, Cesar Millan," he returned. "It's Julius. Turn around."
"Who the hell is Julius?"
"Julius and Mace," Jared told him. "They're Rock's dogs."
"Mace?" he repeated. "There's another one?"
"No, Mace is worse. Mace is the killer."
"Crap, where is he?"
Before Jensen could even finish his question, a tiny, brown Chihuahua pranced out from behind one of the armchairs. He wore a leather-and-spike collar, the same as Julius (only much, much smaller) and his tag read MACE in bold black and silver letters. The dog made a growl-whine sound, licked its minute chops and sat down beside the pitbull. It's ears quivered as the little thing trembled beside its massive counterpart.
Jensen turned and looked at Jared. "I hate you," he said.
Jared laughed, pulling Jensen closer. "No, you don't," he returned. "You're hot for me, and you really really want to get me off in..." He paused long enough to look at his watch. "Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds."
"What?"
"What?" He didn't understand why Jensen sounded so exasperated.
"You want me to do that to you when the dogs are present?"
"Oh, come on," Jared whined. "You're not one of those righteous bastards that think it'll corrupt the soul of the innocent and shit, are you?"
Jensen didn't say a word, just looking at him.
"Oh, come on!" he said again. He rolled his eyes when Jensen continued to be silent, just staring at him. Letting go of him, Jared pushed Jensen back and opened up the door. "Fine," he said, annoyed. "I'll do it myself."
Jensen watched Jared leave. He turned to the dogs and smiled at them. He waved and nodded at them. "How's it going?"
Julius licked his chops and whined slightly.
When he noticed Jared had returned to work, but Jensen hadn't emerged from the breakroom, Chris finally hunted down his best friend. After a good fifteen minutes of petting the dogs, they returned to the bar, the place hopping like mad. Jensen wondered if Jared really had taken matters into his own hands. He didn't look any more satisfied than before, but he didn't look upset either.
Chris and Jensen sat down where they had been before, watching the patrons mill about. Jared filled orders, cleaned glasses, stocked coolers. He was in his element, Jensen mentally noted. He was happy. And Jensen loved seeing that.
"Hey, beer wench."
Annoyed already, Jared turned his head, knowing very well who had spoken the insult to him. Chuck was there, smiling underneath his white, wiry beard. "What, Chuck?"
"Get me a Sam Adam's."
Jared smiled, more than a hint of sarcasm in the grin. "No."
"No?"
"No," he repeated. "Rock will serve you."
"Fuck him," Chuck snarled. "I want you to get it for me, bitch."
Jared straightened, this time his smile a pleased one. "As an employee of this bar, I have the right to refuse anyone I think has had one too many. You could be a danger on the road, Charles."
"Fuck you," Chuck snapped at him. "I could be a danger in here, if I don't get my beer, Padalecki."
Jared only shrugged, not at all swayed by the vague threat. "Talk to Rock," he advised. "Maybe he'll get you your drink."
Chuck grinned wryly at Jared before turning the smile upon Jensen. "Yeah, but he won't suck me off after he does."
Jensen watched Chuck's tongue flicker out to wet his lips, and shook his head at the old biker. "Neither will I," he told him.
"Don't be so quick to judge, darlin'," Chuck returned. "Jay may have shown you how things work, but I'm willing to bet we can perfect that pretty mouth for suckin' a guy off. I can show you how it should be done."
Taking a drink of his beer, Jensen regarded him for a moment. After a second or two, he nodded and swallowed the mouthful of alcohol. "I didn't know you were a fag, Chuck," he said. He hated the word, but that was the only language that Chuck understood, it seemed.
With those few words spoken, Chuck's smile quickly vanished.
Chris watched from his place, wondering if he was going to have to defend himself. Defend Jensen. Jared didn't seem worried, and Jensen was remarkably relaxed. Still, Chris felt himself tense.
"So, tell me," Jensen continued, speaking loud enough for surrounding patrons to hear. "Which one of those strapping, not to mention fugly as hell, biker assholes is your bitch?"
Jared turned away somewhat, pressing his smile to his own shoulder, stifling his laugh. Chris wasn't as quick to hold back his snort of laughter, instead letting it free and then quickly reigning it in. Jensen smiled at the two of them, moving to take another swig of his beer.
Chuck came towards Jensen, prepared to fight. He slapped the young man's beer away, making it tumble down to the floor behind the bar, where it shattered, sending glass and foam everywhere. Though it had scared him, Jensen was much stronger than he used to be. Angry, he turned and looked at Chuck, readily meeting the old man's eyes.
"Listen to me, you little faggot," Chuck snarled. "You might think you're smarter than me, and you might think that you're God's gift to the fuckin' gays. But all you are is another one of Padalecki's whores. And don't let him fool you. He's had more than his share."
Jensen tried to pretend that the old man's words meant nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rock step closer, handing Chuck a bottle of beer from behind the bar.
"Take your drink and go back to your corner," Rock advised, pushing Chuck back a step or two. "You want another, you talk to me. Jay's off limits. So is Jensen."
Chuck finally tore his gaze away from Jensen. He pointed a finger at Jared, the other digits curled around the ice cold Sam Adam's. "This ain't over," he warned.
Jared sighed, towelling off his hands. "It never is, Chuck," he said.
Jensen had become used to Jared working the bar, and not being right there at his side. He became more comfortable at the place, especially with Chris there. They got to hang out, spend some best-friend time together, and Jensen got to share some moments with Jared too. At first, he'd been uncomfortable about showing any affection at the bar -- just because Jared was working there now. But that was quickly wrung out of him. Jared wouldn't have it any other way.
By eleven o'clock, Jensen and Chris made their way back up to the bar, after dancing.
"You staying until closing?" Jared asked.
"Nah," Jensen said. "I had a semi-shitty day today, so I'm going to go home and crash. Chris is going to Dani's, but he'll drop me off on his way."
"Okay," he returned. "I'll see you at home, beautiful."
Jensen chuckled at him, shaking his head. "Be good," he warned.
"Yeah, you like it when I play the bad boy," he said.
"Play, yes," Jensen agreed. "Watch your back."
"You too."
Jensen grabbed his and Chris's jackets from behind the bar, and the two of them headed out. Jared turned back to his work, taking an order from two very pretty girls that had just arrived to the bar. They sounded like they'd already visited one or two other places. Jared decided, however, that they weren't too over the top just yet. He flashed his perfect smile at them and got their orders in record time. Rock had admitted earlier that he and Mickey were pleased with his performance on the job. They had even told Jared that he could stay on for a little longer, and gave him a raise. He wouldn't be rolling in cash, but the nightly tips were nothing to sneeze at, and every little bit helped while Jeffrey was laid up.
Jared didn't know what made him look up. Maybe it was a sixth sense. Maybe it was just luck. Whatever the case, after he got the girls their drinks, and one beer for a lonely guy at the end of the bar, he looked over to the corner, where Chuck was.
Where Chuck had been.
Panic slithered around Jared's throat like a cold black snake, tightening quickly. Chuck left just after Jensen did, and he wasn't stupid. He knew what that meant. Trying to remain calm, Jared reached for Rock and pulled him close enough to speak into the man's ear. Rock listened and then nodded his head, telling him to go.
After clapping a hand on Rock's shoulder, Jared made for the front door. He burst through it, but found the parking lot to be surprisingly quiet. The place was packed, so most of the parking spaces were taken. All of the bikes to Chuck's group were still there, as was Chris's truck, parked off in the distance, underneath one of the lot lamps. No one was in sight, however. Jared took off jogging, looking in between the rows and rows of cars. Jensen was there somewhere, he just knew it. And Chris would be right along side him. "Jen?" he called. He kept jogging, finding nothing curled up and bleeding between the cars. "Jensen!"
Jensen looked over at Chuck. Blood trickled down his head, making a dark, red trail between his eyes, along the bridge of his nose. Chris was behind him, held down by the rest of Chuck's goons.
"Go ahead, Jenny," Chuck snarled. "Call out to your girlfriend."
The nickname reminded Jensen of Doug. All the old memories flooded back to him, how he felt when he saw Doug in the same vicinity. How his heart would pound so hard, he was sure it would give out. How the pain made him sick to his stomach. It was those feelings that kept Jensen silent. Instead of calling out for help, he decided that he wasn't going to give into it anymore. He'd had enough of being bullied.
He didn't have to call out to Jared, though. His eyes didn't waver from Chuck's, but out of his peripheral vision, he saw a shadow nearing them. Chuck and his goons were so intent upon what they were doing, they didn't even hear Jared nearing them. Not until it was too late. Jensen didn't know if perhaps his gaze finally did shift, or perhaps Chuck finally detected Jared's presence. Either way, the old man snapped his head around just in time for Jared's fist to connect with Chuck's mouth.
Chris fought off the few that had a hold of him, with Jensen's help. Chuck's goons moved to tackle Jared, but the old man waved them off. "He's mine!" he nearly yelled at them. With one burly, meaty fist, Chuck swung at him.
Jared didn't manage to duck out of the way. He was hit hard enough to be thrown backwards. Blood gushed down his face from his nose, down past his chin and onto his shirt. Still, he was up on his feet in a heartbeat and throwing himself at Chuck. Jensen and Chris caught him, however, just as Rock and two of the bar bouncers rushed in to help. There was an ear-splitting ruckus, confusion all around, horrible words said back and forth, until finally Rock's commanding voice silenced everyone.
"That's enough!" he shouted. "Jared, back inside. Chuck, get the fuck out of here."
"That little asshole--," Chuck began.
"You stupid fuck!" Jared shouted, lunging at Chuck. He was hauled back by Jensen and Chris. "I'm going to rip your fucking spine out, I swear to God."
"You ain't got the nads!" he returned. "Come on, asswipe! Try it!"
"You fucking touch me or my family again, and I will kill you!" Jared bit back. "I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?"
"I said enough!" Rock bellowed.
Silence settled over the crowd. People were jammed in the entryway of the bar to see what was going on. Rock hated this kind of publicity. And so did Mickey. Either Jared or Chuck had to go. This couldn't continue. Sighing, Rock waved the bouncers away. "Get him out of my sight," he said.
The bouncers dragged Chuck and his ragged band of friends with him.
Rock looked at Jared and sighed. "Go home, Jared," he said.
"It's still my shift," he said, much calmer this time.
Rock shook his head. "You've done enough damage for one night. Go home."
--TBC--
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (40/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Adult.
Wordcount: 4,974
Summary: AU. Jared's a classic case of rich kid gone wrong, whose only sense of family comes from his motorbike, the guy he rents a garage from to live in and the precinct cops who know his face better than most already. Jensen's a hard-working student whose family are helping push him towards great things. What happens when their two worlds collide, and will Jared's troublesome nature be too much for Jensen to handle?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Holy crap, you guys, this fic just hit over 150,000 words total. O.o And over 200 readers. You're all awesome for sticking with us, thank you so much! xxxx
Oh, and Adorable THANKS you for all your kind patience. We hope to be back to regular schedule from now on, and I hope you have a lot of time set aside for our coming chapters. The next one? I kind of got VERY carried away. ~coughs~ Hee.
CHAPTER FORTY
It was his own snoring that woke him up. One loud snort caught in the back of his throat and seemed to echo through the room. Not entirely aware yet, Jensen lifted his head and looked around. He was overly warm, and his body was slightly sweaty where skin was pressed up against skin. He swallowed against a dry throat and blinked his eyes hard. Jared's leg was draped over his own legs, and his arm flopped across Jensen's midriff. His hand was resting comfortably against Jensen's groin, where a morning erection had already begun to form. Stretching right down to his toes, Jensen reached down and set his hand over Jared's, pressing the man's hand down against his erection. Smiling, he looked down to his chest, where Jared's head was propped.
Only, it wasn't Jared's head. It was Chris's.
Startled, Jensen's mouth hung open for a moment and he looked around the garage, desperate for something, someone to save him. He adored Chris, that much was true, but they'd already had their share of awkward moments about this very topic. He didn't remember snuggling up to the man so close, but they'd had quite a bit to drink.
Damn it.
Jensen pushed Chris's arm off of him. His own arm was wrapped around Chris's shoulders, holding him. Of course it was. He'd thought Chris was Jared. He tried to wriggle out from underneath Chris without waking the man, but his arm was stuck. Instead, he decided to start from the other end. With his knee, he lifted Chris's leg off of his and started to slide off the sofa. Chris's leg flopped back down, bumping up against Jensen's groin. He really had to pee, and now the pain sent sparking through him made him whimper. He took a moment to recover, and then tried again. Chris had always been a heavy sleeper, but this was ridiculous. Jensen worked his legs out from underneath Chris's. On his knees beside the sofa, he tugged gently at his arm. It was starting to fall asleep from the odd angle. Jensen leaned in closer to try and lift Chris's head off of his arm with his free hand.
Just as he was pressed close to Chris again, the man awoke.
"Jesus Christ!" Chris said loudly, his body jerking. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," Jensen apologized, finally getting his arm free. "I must've thought you were Jay."
"What?" He sat up on the sofa, raking his fingers through his hair. "Why, what'd we do?"
"What? Nothing, you freak," Jensen scowled at him. "We were just... Kind of touching."
"Touching where?"
Jensen sighed. "Why the hell are you so freaked by this?"
"Because I just woke up to find you in my face."
"Please," Jensen scoffed. "You've been hot for me from day one."
Chris snorted out a laugh. "I think not, my good friend," he corrected. "You've wanted in my pants since you met me."
"I have not."
"Have too."
"Not."
"Too."
"All right, children."
Jensen recognized Jared's voice. He turned and looked up to the second level. Sure enough, Jared was there, clad in only a pair of torn jeans. His hair was tousled, and he had a good shadow of beard stubble. He was smiling, sitting on the edge of the loft, long legs dangling over the side. Jensen saw the man's happy expression and narrowed his eyes at him.
"You set us up like that, didn't you?"
Jared laughed. "You guys are so fucking easy."
Chris stood and smiled sarcastically up at Jared. "I kind of hate you right now."
Jared laughed harder, while Jensen just rolled his eyes. "No, you don't," he said. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast. Master Prankster, are you coming along?"
In a move that made Jensen stop breathing for an instant, Jared turned around in his place, legs dangling from the loft. He lowered himself down as far as his long arms would allow, and then dropped down to the garage floor. Jensen, arms out to attempt to catch the man, instead set a hand to his heart. Once he realized Jared was safe and grinning, he smacked the flat of his palm against the man's chest.
"You're a jerk," he said. "You just scared the crap out of me."
Laughing evilly, Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist, pulling him in for a kiss. He formed his hands to the curve of Jensn's backside and squeezed gently. "You love me though," he told him.
Jensen's lashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes. "Lord knows why," he smiled.
With each push-up, Jared grunted slightly, exhaling forcefully through pursed lips. Jensen, who had just finished his own set of sit-ups, reclined nearby, watching him. His eyes focused on the lines of straining muscle underneath Jared's tanned, tattooed skin. The man's form was flawless, his stamina staggering. Although, Jensen had already gotten a glimpse of the stamina by Jared's lovemaking. His eyes travelled down Jared's shirtless back, skin glistening with sweat. They were due in the boxing ring next, just after two spanish men that constantly, playfully snapped obscenities back and forth at each other. Part of Jensen didn't want to practice boxing. He wished the rest of the crowds would disperse, that the place would be empty like it was the first time Jared had brought him here. He wanted to stretch Jared out on the canvas, cover every inch of his body that he could with wet, nipping kisses.
Blinking his eyes, Jensen forced himself out of his dream world. Jared was just finishing up his reps, grunting out the numbers he had been counting silently. It was the first night Jared had had off in a week. Jensen would have been happy staying in and making Jared breathless in an entirely different way, but Jared had made him come out to the gym to work off some of his energy.
Jensen wondered, for just a moment, if something was wrong with him. Surely it was normal for a man to be preoccupied by sex, but Jensen sometimes felt far too obsessed with it. He saw it in everything, was willing to do it just about anywhere, even if he knew he would suffer terrible embarassment later. Hell, it had even crept out when Chris was around, and that made for some very uncomfortable conversations.
It was all Jared's fault, being so sexy and all.
He must have drifted off again because the next thing he knew, Jared was standing next to him, his hand stretched out. "Ready?"
Looking up, Jensen took hold of Jared's hand and pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah," he answered.
"Good," Jared smiled. "I want to see that ass in action. Which reminds me..." He reached around and smacked Jensen's backside with a playful hand. "I'll have to set up the video camera again sometime."
That shouldn't be turning me on, Jensen thought silently.
All Jared's fault.
Sat upon the sofa, Jared's hand slipped up Jensen's sweat-slicked skin, fingers pressing hard enough to dimple flesh and scrape his nails, leaving slight red welts. His hands continued up to Jensen's face, then into his hair, fingers curling into fists there. Not enough to hurt, just enough to hold onto him, keep him in the rough, bruising kiss. The sofa squeaked softly with their movements, Jensen straddling Jared's waist, their heavy breathing matching the rhythm of their bodies. Jensen's hand, hidden between their bodies, kept their lube-slathered cocks pressed together, and both of their hips ground mercilessly against the other's.
Behind the sofa, and off to the side a little bit, was a used-but-in-good-condition golf bag. Protruding from it were four golf putters, one nice wood driver and one nearly-new chipper. Jared had surprised Jensen with them, sticking a store-bought, cheap red bow upon what he assumed was the front of the golf bag. Then, he attached a different color bow to each of the golf clubs.
"Where did you get these?" Jensen had asked. He'd had a brand new set when he had lived with his parents. As a matter of fact, he and his father would go out every other Sunday afternoon for a round of golf with the high society folk. Part of Jensen missed that. The game, rather than the company.
"I found 'em," Jared shrugged. "I know Jeff got you the golf balls for Christmas. Thought it might be nice to have some way to lob them around."
Jensen had eyed him at that point. "You found them, or you stole them?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Jared!"
"Calm down, I bought them," he had said. "They were at the second-hand store, okay?"
Jensen had smiled. "And you got them for me."
"I did not," he had teased. "I got them for my other hot lover."
"Shut up," Jensen had laughed. He took the chipper out of the bag and looked it over. Sure, it was worn, and it wasn't a full-set, but he was touched that Jared had thought of him and spent his hard-earned money on something for him. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."
Jared yanked one of the four putters out of the bag, ripped the bow off and reached out to Jensen with it. He worked the blade of the club underneath the collar of Jensen's shirt and tugged gently. "So, don't talk," he'd grinned.
Jensen had quickly given in after that. The putter that Jared had had a hold of was still on the garage floor, but the chipper had been placed back into the worn, weathered golf bag. It hand't taken them long to decide that the furthest they could make it was onto the sofa. Clothes were quickly strewn about so that naked skin could press up against more naked skin.
Jared took one look down at their bodies, muscle straining together, before looking back up into Jensen's eyes, the color seeming clearer, softer than before, lashes delicate against his skin as the lids drifted closed. Jared pulled him in for another kiss, his tongue hungrily searching out Jensen's. His breath, already ragged, suddenly came in short gasps. He held it in his lungs for just a moment, before letting his mouth fall open wider, a gruff moan escaping him. Jensen felt the sudden rush of warmth spilling over their chests and bellies, smelled the stickyness within it, and felt himself tense as well. He moved a few more times, his spine moving so that his head came to rest upon Jared, in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He growled and shuddered almost violently as he came, his mouth open against Jared's neck.
Stillness settled over the garage again. With heavy eyes, Jared looked around. The TV was still on, the program long ago forgotten about. Their work-out clothes were strewn about, some upon the sofa, some on the floor. Jared's underwear was draped across a corner of the television, having been thrown over Jensen's shoulder. Breathing heavy, Jared set his hands to Jensen's hips. "Goddamn fucking rabbits," he said, sated and happy.
Jensen rolled off of him, sitting as he had been before he'd gotten distracted away from television with the clubs. "See what happens when you have a night off?"
Smiling, Jared turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm not around as much as I used to be."
Jensen shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "It'd be the same way if I was working."
It was quiet, Jared just looking at Jensen. "I'm proud of you, you know," he finally said.
Chuckling, Jensen scowled at him. "Why?"
"For sticking with this whole school thing."
"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You stuck with it."
Jared waved off Jensen's smile. "Nah. After Mom died, I kind of lost interest in most things."
Smiling brighter, Jensen nudged him with his shoulder. "Until I came along," he said.
Looking at him, Jared returned the smile as he nodded his head. "Until you came along," he agreed.
"Because you love me."
"Mm," he nodded, inching in closer for a soft kiss.
Jensen let Jared kiss him, and then carefully bumped foreheads with him. "So tell me."
"I have."
"Not those exact words."
Jared snorted out a laugh. "If you didn't get it from what just happened between us, then three stupid words aren't going to make one fucking difference," he told him.
Jensen frowned. "It's nice to hear it now and then."
Jared stared at him, a smile upon his face. It was silent for several seconds until he clapped a hand onto Jensen's knee and then stood from the sofa. He reached for his underwear and slipped into it. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said.
Sighing, Jensen remained on the sofa.
As earlier promised -- and ordered by Jared -- Jensen showed up at Mickey's around nine-thirty, closer to ten. He didn't need to tell the bouncer who he was, only that Chris was his guest. The place seemed even more packed than usual. Jensen wondered if it was due to the new bartender. He still believed what he had said to Jared long ago - people just flocked to him. Weaving through the throngs of people, Jensen led the way to the bar. The music was loud. People danced on the hardwood dance floor. Lights of every color flashed around them. Swallowing hard, Jensen looked around. He felt that old nervousness begin to show itself and, for a moment, he wanted to run away. He still wasn't a fan of big crowds. What grounded him was the feel of Chris's arm coming to rest upon his shoulders. He looked over at him, watching his friend nod towards the bar.
"There he is," Chris said.
Jensen turned, seeing Jared behind the bar, laughing as boisterously as he always did. He was serving a group of rough-looking bikers and their girls. They were all clad in leather, spikes and chains. Used to be, Jensen would have avoided the group of rough-housers, waited outside to talk to Jared. Now, however, he was slightly more used to the lifestyle. He strolled up to the bar, to the side of the bikers, and leaned against the counter, smiling when he caught Jared's eye.
"Hey, speak of the devil," Jared laughed, while pouring a mug of draft for one of the biker's girlfriends.
Jensen noticed that the bikers glanced his way, smiling and nodding a hello. "Been talking about me?" He asked.
Jared handed over the mug of beer and accepted a wad of cash from one of the bikers. "This round's on me," the man said in a gruff voice. Jared nodded and moved to the cash register.
"Talking, dreaming," he finally answered Jensen. "You name it."
Jensen laughed and shook his head while Jared handed change over to the man.
The biker waved it off. "The rest is for you," he said.
"Aw, thanks, man," Jared grinned. "Jen, this is Necro, a friend of mine."
Jensen nodded and reached over to shake the man's hand. "Necro, this is Chris."
"Necro?" Chris repeated as he shook the man's hand. "Nice."
Necro motioned to the others with him. "The girls are Tiffy, Amber, Dharma and Muff."
Chris snorted out a laugh. "Muff."
"The fellas are Andy, Drift, Marcus and Satan."
Jensen's eyes grew wider at the mention of the last name. "S-Satan?"
Satan, who looked like he could play quite the convincing evil part, glanced in Jensen's direction and nodded his head ever-so-slightly. "Yo."
Nervously, Jensen nodded back. "H-hi."
The group departed, saying a heartfelt, "Later, losers," to Jared, Jensen and Chris. Jared turned away from Jensen and Chris for a moment and returned with two bottles of beer. He popped the caps off and handed them over.
"On the house," Jared declared.
"Jay," Jensen said. "You can't keep doing that."
"Watch me," he grinned, winking at Jensen.
It was still early to the party-goers. Most of them hadn't even really gotten to the bar yet. Jensen took advantage of the momentary lull in patrons and hefted himself up, leaning against the bar. He leaned in closer to Jared and smiled. "When's your break?"
"Whenever I fucking want," he grinned back. He gave Jensen a quick kiss and nodded to the doorway behind the bar. "Rock! I'm on a ten!"
"Yo," Rock acknowledged. It would be just him and Darlene, another bartender, working the floor for a few minutes.
Jensen looked back at Chris before he headed off to the back room with Jared. "Be right back!"
Chris smiled and shook his head. He sat down upon one of the barstools and waved Jensen away. "I'll be here," he said.
From behind, Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared, laughing when the man had to walk awkwardly to accomodate him. The break-room door opened and Jensen was pulled inside. Jared pressed his own back against the door and yanked Jensen closer, kissing him, pressing their bodies close together.
Suddenly, there was a low growl and a loud bark. Startled, Jensen spun around, gasping aloud. "What the..."
Laying on the floor was a grey, blue-eyed, white-sock pitbull, complete with a leather, spiked collar. Jensen pressed his back against Jared's chest and almost squeaked.
"It's a dog," Jared told him.
"It's a pitbull," Jensen clarified.
"Thank you, Cesar Millan," he returned. "It's Julius. Turn around."
"Who the hell is Julius?"
"Julius and Mace," Jared told him. "They're Rock's dogs."
"Mace?" he repeated. "There's another one?"
"No, Mace is worse. Mace is the killer."
"Crap, where is he?"
Before Jensen could even finish his question, a tiny, brown Chihuahua pranced out from behind one of the armchairs. He wore a leather-and-spike collar, the same as Julius (only much, much smaller) and his tag read MACE in bold black and silver letters. The dog made a growl-whine sound, licked its minute chops and sat down beside the pitbull. It's ears quivered as the little thing trembled beside its massive counterpart.
Jensen turned and looked at Jared. "I hate you," he said.
Jared laughed, pulling Jensen closer. "No, you don't," he returned. "You're hot for me, and you really really want to get me off in..." He paused long enough to look at his watch. "Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds."
"What?"
"What?" He didn't understand why Jensen sounded so exasperated.
"You want me to do that to you when the dogs are present?"
"Oh, come on," Jared whined. "You're not one of those righteous bastards that think it'll corrupt the soul of the innocent and shit, are you?"
Jensen didn't say a word, just looking at him.
"Oh, come on!" he said again. He rolled his eyes when Jensen continued to be silent, just staring at him. Letting go of him, Jared pushed Jensen back and opened up the door. "Fine," he said, annoyed. "I'll do it myself."
Jensen watched Jared leave. He turned to the dogs and smiled at them. He waved and nodded at them. "How's it going?"
Julius licked his chops and whined slightly.
When he noticed Jared had returned to work, but Jensen hadn't emerged from the breakroom, Chris finally hunted down his best friend. After a good fifteen minutes of petting the dogs, they returned to the bar, the place hopping like mad. Jensen wondered if Jared really had taken matters into his own hands. He didn't look any more satisfied than before, but he didn't look upset either.
Chris and Jensen sat down where they had been before, watching the patrons mill about. Jared filled orders, cleaned glasses, stocked coolers. He was in his element, Jensen mentally noted. He was happy. And Jensen loved seeing that.
"Hey, beer wench."
Annoyed already, Jared turned his head, knowing very well who had spoken the insult to him. Chuck was there, smiling underneath his white, wiry beard. "What, Chuck?"
"Get me a Sam Adam's."
Jared smiled, more than a hint of sarcasm in the grin. "No."
"No?"
"No," he repeated. "Rock will serve you."
"Fuck him," Chuck snarled. "I want you to get it for me, bitch."
Jared straightened, this time his smile a pleased one. "As an employee of this bar, I have the right to refuse anyone I think has had one too many. You could be a danger on the road, Charles."
"Fuck you," Chuck snapped at him. "I could be a danger in here, if I don't get my beer, Padalecki."
Jared only shrugged, not at all swayed by the vague threat. "Talk to Rock," he advised. "Maybe he'll get you your drink."
Chuck grinned wryly at Jared before turning the smile upon Jensen. "Yeah, but he won't suck me off after he does."
Jensen watched Chuck's tongue flicker out to wet his lips, and shook his head at the old biker. "Neither will I," he told him.
"Don't be so quick to judge, darlin'," Chuck returned. "Jay may have shown you how things work, but I'm willing to bet we can perfect that pretty mouth for suckin' a guy off. I can show you how it should be done."
Taking a drink of his beer, Jensen regarded him for a moment. After a second or two, he nodded and swallowed the mouthful of alcohol. "I didn't know you were a fag, Chuck," he said. He hated the word, but that was the only language that Chuck understood, it seemed.
With those few words spoken, Chuck's smile quickly vanished.
Chris watched from his place, wondering if he was going to have to defend himself. Defend Jensen. Jared didn't seem worried, and Jensen was remarkably relaxed. Still, Chris felt himself tense.
"So, tell me," Jensen continued, speaking loud enough for surrounding patrons to hear. "Which one of those strapping, not to mention fugly as hell, biker assholes is your bitch?"
Jared turned away somewhat, pressing his smile to his own shoulder, stifling his laugh. Chris wasn't as quick to hold back his snort of laughter, instead letting it free and then quickly reigning it in. Jensen smiled at the two of them, moving to take another swig of his beer.
Chuck came towards Jensen, prepared to fight. He slapped the young man's beer away, making it tumble down to the floor behind the bar, where it shattered, sending glass and foam everywhere. Though it had scared him, Jensen was much stronger than he used to be. Angry, he turned and looked at Chuck, readily meeting the old man's eyes.
"Listen to me, you little faggot," Chuck snarled. "You might think you're smarter than me, and you might think that you're God's gift to the fuckin' gays. But all you are is another one of Padalecki's whores. And don't let him fool you. He's had more than his share."
Jensen tried to pretend that the old man's words meant nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rock step closer, handing Chuck a bottle of beer from behind the bar.
"Take your drink and go back to your corner," Rock advised, pushing Chuck back a step or two. "You want another, you talk to me. Jay's off limits. So is Jensen."
Chuck finally tore his gaze away from Jensen. He pointed a finger at Jared, the other digits curled around the ice cold Sam Adam's. "This ain't over," he warned.
Jared sighed, towelling off his hands. "It never is, Chuck," he said.
Jensen had become used to Jared working the bar, and not being right there at his side. He became more comfortable at the place, especially with Chris there. They got to hang out, spend some best-friend time together, and Jensen got to share some moments with Jared too. At first, he'd been uncomfortable about showing any affection at the bar -- just because Jared was working there now. But that was quickly wrung out of him. Jared wouldn't have it any other way.
By eleven o'clock, Jensen and Chris made their way back up to the bar, after dancing.
"You staying until closing?" Jared asked.
"Nah," Jensen said. "I had a semi-shitty day today, so I'm going to go home and crash. Chris is going to Dani's, but he'll drop me off on his way."
"Okay," he returned. "I'll see you at home, beautiful."
Jensen chuckled at him, shaking his head. "Be good," he warned.
"Yeah, you like it when I play the bad boy," he said.
"Play, yes," Jensen agreed. "Watch your back."
"You too."
Jensen grabbed his and Chris's jackets from behind the bar, and the two of them headed out. Jared turned back to his work, taking an order from two very pretty girls that had just arrived to the bar. They sounded like they'd already visited one or two other places. Jared decided, however, that they weren't too over the top just yet. He flashed his perfect smile at them and got their orders in record time. Rock had admitted earlier that he and Mickey were pleased with his performance on the job. They had even told Jared that he could stay on for a little longer, and gave him a raise. He wouldn't be rolling in cash, but the nightly tips were nothing to sneeze at, and every little bit helped while Jeffrey was laid up.
Jared didn't know what made him look up. Maybe it was a sixth sense. Maybe it was just luck. Whatever the case, after he got the girls their drinks, and one beer for a lonely guy at the end of the bar, he looked over to the corner, where Chuck was.
Where Chuck had been.
Panic slithered around Jared's throat like a cold black snake, tightening quickly. Chuck left just after Jensen did, and he wasn't stupid. He knew what that meant. Trying to remain calm, Jared reached for Rock and pulled him close enough to speak into the man's ear. Rock listened and then nodded his head, telling him to go.
After clapping a hand on Rock's shoulder, Jared made for the front door. He burst through it, but found the parking lot to be surprisingly quiet. The place was packed, so most of the parking spaces were taken. All of the bikes to Chuck's group were still there, as was Chris's truck, parked off in the distance, underneath one of the lot lamps. No one was in sight, however. Jared took off jogging, looking in between the rows and rows of cars. Jensen was there somewhere, he just knew it. And Chris would be right along side him. "Jen?" he called. He kept jogging, finding nothing curled up and bleeding between the cars. "Jensen!"
Jensen looked over at Chuck. Blood trickled down his head, making a dark, red trail between his eyes, along the bridge of his nose. Chris was behind him, held down by the rest of Chuck's goons.
"Go ahead, Jenny," Chuck snarled. "Call out to your girlfriend."
The nickname reminded Jensen of Doug. All the old memories flooded back to him, how he felt when he saw Doug in the same vicinity. How his heart would pound so hard, he was sure it would give out. How the pain made him sick to his stomach. It was those feelings that kept Jensen silent. Instead of calling out for help, he decided that he wasn't going to give into it anymore. He'd had enough of being bullied.
He didn't have to call out to Jared, though. His eyes didn't waver from Chuck's, but out of his peripheral vision, he saw a shadow nearing them. Chuck and his goons were so intent upon what they were doing, they didn't even hear Jared nearing them. Not until it was too late. Jensen didn't know if perhaps his gaze finally did shift, or perhaps Chuck finally detected Jared's presence. Either way, the old man snapped his head around just in time for Jared's fist to connect with Chuck's mouth.
Chris fought off the few that had a hold of him, with Jensen's help. Chuck's goons moved to tackle Jared, but the old man waved them off. "He's mine!" he nearly yelled at them. With one burly, meaty fist, Chuck swung at him.
Jared didn't manage to duck out of the way. He was hit hard enough to be thrown backwards. Blood gushed down his face from his nose, down past his chin and onto his shirt. Still, he was up on his feet in a heartbeat and throwing himself at Chuck. Jensen and Chris caught him, however, just as Rock and two of the bar bouncers rushed in to help. There was an ear-splitting ruckus, confusion all around, horrible words said back and forth, until finally Rock's commanding voice silenced everyone.
"That's enough!" he shouted. "Jared, back inside. Chuck, get the fuck out of here."
"That little asshole--," Chuck began.
"You stupid fuck!" Jared shouted, lunging at Chuck. He was hauled back by Jensen and Chris. "I'm going to rip your fucking spine out, I swear to God."
"You ain't got the nads!" he returned. "Come on, asswipe! Try it!"
"You fucking touch me or my family again, and I will kill you!" Jared bit back. "I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?"
"I said enough!" Rock bellowed.
Silence settled over the crowd. People were jammed in the entryway of the bar to see what was going on. Rock hated this kind of publicity. And so did Mickey. Either Jared or Chuck had to go. This couldn't continue. Sighing, Rock waved the bouncers away. "Get him out of my sight," he said.
The bouncers dragged Chuck and his ragged band of friends with him.
Rock looked at Jared and sighed. "Go home, Jared," he said.
"It's still my shift," he said, much calmer this time.
Rock shook his head. "You've done enough damage for one night. Go home."
--TBC--