Smoke & Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder [6/?]
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (6/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG all the way to NC-17 in future chapters.
Wordcount: 3,451
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.
CHAPTER SIX
He tried to muddle through his week, but Dad's words wouldn't stop bouncing around in his head.
"And you won't see this boy and his father again."
He knew he shouldn't be so upset. He'd only known Jared and Jeffrey for a matter of a couple of days. Still, he couldn't help but feel that he and Jared had really made a connection. And regardless of all the money and lavishness Jensen had in life, it seemed that what Jared and Jeffrey had was exactly what he wanted. He was tired of constantly being judged, each action scrutinized. He was tired of being treated like he was something more than he felt he truly was.
The week dragged by and he knew it was because he wanted it to be over. Nothing worth waiting for ever came quickly. So many people used to tell him that when he was a child and getting excited in the build-up to Christmas - despite the fact each one was usually filled with disappointment - and it was no different now. And yet, he wondered what he was going to do come the weekend. Technically, he was grounded until Sunday. He was pretty sure by then he would be clinically insane.
"Hey, man."
Jensen turned at the greeting. Chris was nearing him, raking his fingers through his hair. "Hey," Jensen greeted. He continued on his way, looking down at the floor as he walked.
"You still bummed, I take it?"
Jensen nodded, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "Kind of," he agreed. "I'm just not looking forward to a whole weekend being grounded. I'm going to be so bored."
"Screw that," Chris said, waving away Jensen's words. The man was always overly positive. Some days it helped Jensen, other days he found it annoying. "I may not be able to be there to keep you company, but your Dad didn't say you weren't allowed on AOL."
Jensen smiled as they pushed through the front doors to the school. "Yeah, I guess."
Chris draped his arm over Jensen's shoulders as they walked. "You're off to the bus stop, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll walk with you."
"Ooh, look there," someone said in a mocking voice. "Jenny and his boyfriend are off for a stroll together."
Jensen knew the annoying voice belonged to Doug. His smile vanished and his eyes hardened. "Shut up, Doug," he said, but not really loud enough for his classmate to hear.
"What's the matter, Doug?" Chris called over his shoulder. "Upset that you're still a virigin? Yeah, I would be too."
"Shut up, Kane," he snarled back.
Jensen laughed, glancing back to Doug just once. "I don't know how you do it," he said as they continued on their way. "I try to stand up to him..."
"Well, he hasn't beat on me every day since Kindergarten either," Chris reminded him. "You've been an easy target for him for all these years."
Jensen turned and looked at him, sobered by his friend's words. "Thank you."
Chris laughed, ruffling Jensen's short-cropped hair. "You know what I mean," he said. He let go of Jensen as they started through the parking lot to the school. "You are an easy target though, Jen, you gotta admit it. But you know I'll fight for you 'til my dying day."
Chris' last few words were said breathy and with forced emotion. Jensen laughed, and shoved him away. "You're such a freak."
"Me?" Chris chuckled. "You got it backwards, man."
Interrupting their conversation, there came the sound of a motor being revved. Jensen turned, remembering the sound of Jared's bike when they were working on it in the garage. He shielded his eyes to the late afternoon sunlight and studied the figure nearing the school. A smile began to spread across his face when he saw the word Suicycle scribed on the back of the bike.
"It's him," Jensen said, his voice soft.
"What?"
Jensen reached out and patted Chris's shoulder excitedly. "It's him."
Jared pulled up to them, stopping fast. The tires of the bike skidded against the pavement, making Chris take a step back out of fear. Jensen remained where he was, however. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, staring over at the helmeted driver.
Jared flipped up the visor on the helmet and looked over at Jensen. "What's up?"
Jensen couldn't see his face entirely, but he was pretty sure Jared was smiling at him. "What are you doing out here?"
Letting the bike idle, Jared sat up and pulled off his gloves. He set them on the gas tank and then reached up to unfasten the chin strap on the helmet. "Just driving around," he said. Of course, that was a lie, but he wouldn't admit it to Jensen. He had actually mentioned to Jeffrey, the night before, that he wondered what had happened to the pipsqueak that had spent the weekend with them. He'd almost gotten used to the kid being around.
Chris watched as Jared pulled the helmet off. He saw the barest hint of the tattoo on Jared's arm when his sleeve rode up a bit too high.
"Oh, this is Chris," Jensen said, motioning to his friend.
Jared nodded to him and then reached across the bike. "Hey, man," he greeted.
Chris smiled and shook Jared's hand. "Nice bike," he said.
"Thanks," he replied. He apparently had nothing further to say to Chris, because he turned to Jensen again then. "You wanna go for a ride?"
Jensen's happy demeanor quickly melted away. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his shoes. "I can't," he answered. "I'm grounded."
Tonguing his teeth for a second, Jared shrugged his shoulders. "For what?" he asked. He watched Jensen meet his eyes for just a second. "Not the Sunday thing."
Jensen nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Chris tried to cover for me, but Dad found out." He met Chris's eyes for a moment, still frowning, and then looked back over at Jared. "He's demanding that I stay away from you and Jeff too."
"What the fuck for?"
Jensen shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I don't get it either."
"No offense, Jen, but your Dad's an asshole," Jared said.
Chris chuckled and nodded in agreement, while Jared reached towards the back of the bike.
"What time does he get home?"
Jensen shrugged at Jared. "Six?" he answered. "It depends on how court went."
Smiling, Jared shoved a helmet at Jensen. It thumped against his chest, making him grunt, more out of surprise than pain. "What Dad don't know, won't hurt him," he said.
Jensen looked down at the helmet, over at Jared and then at Chris. He saw his friend give him a look that said, I don't know, man. Still, he smiled brightly. He shimmied into the shoulder straps of his backpack and took the helmet from Jared.
"Jen," Chris warned.
"Don't worry," Jensen said, jamming the helmet on. "I'm not going to ask you to lie for me again."
"That's not it," he returned. "You know I would no matter what. But if your Dad finds out..." He glanced over at Jared, who had already put his own helmet back on, and was fastening the chin strap. He wished the man would simply say something to deter Jensen.
"He won't," Jensen assured him. He hopped on the back of the bike, settling against Jared, while the man put his leather gloves back on. "I'll be home before he knows it."
"Jensen..."
Jared flipped down the visor on his helmet and revved the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot, leaving Chris to turn away, shielding his eyes against the dust that blew in his face.
"Jen!" Chris called one last time, even though he knew it was futile. Sighing, he watched the bike speed away, the two men moving as one on the vehicle. "Your Dad's going to kill you," he said softly.
Jensen didn't even care where they ended up. Even if they ended up at his house, he decided that he could make it through until Sunday. He wasn't even properly processing things around him at first. Finally, he realized that his hands were at Jared's waist, their thighs just barely touching. Jensen's chest was just inches away from Jared's back.
Breaking into his thoughts, Jensen felt a hand tap his. He looked around Jared's shoulder, watching as the man turned to him as best he could.
"Hold on tighter," Jared told him, shouting over the sound of the bike.
"Why?" Jensen asked, his own words muffled by the helmet.
Jared didn't say anything in return. Instead, he pointed directly ahead of them. He had managed to find a relatively deserted stretch of road that was reasonably straight. Jensen had an idea of what Jared was about to do, and felt his heart pound in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Jared's midriff and felt the man pat his hands one last time.
The bike took off like a shot. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Jensen started out with his eyes closed, but after a second or two he wanted to see the scenery passing with flying colors. He laughed loudly as Jared continued down the stretch of road at break-neck speed. He loved the feel of the wind against their bodies, adored the feel of his arms around Jared's waist.
It was hard to hear the wailing at first, but eventually Jensen realized that he was hearing a police siren amongst the rushing of the wind. He turned and looked behind them, seeing a police car in the distance. Jared had easily broken the speed limit, and the cop was going to have a field day. He didn't bother to call out to Jared; he saw the man glancing into the rear-view mirrors. Instead of slowing down, though, he kicked the bike up a notch and weaved in and out of the few cars that they had caught up to.
The bike eventually slowed, turning into a packed parking lot. Jared didn't park in one of the spots available. Instead, he headed around to the back of the building and turned the motorcycle off. They heard the cop car speed past the building they were hiding behind, sirens blaring, and Jensen laughed as he tugged at the chin strap on the helmet.
"How many times have you done that?" he asked.
Jared swung his leg off the bike and pulled his helmet off, standing tall. "Enough that you'd think they'd know better by now," he answered.
Jensen rested his helmet on the back of the bike, still smiling. When he turned back to Jared, he found the man staring at him. He waited for Jared to speak, but only silence prevailed. Smile fading, he stared up at him. "What?" he finally asked.
Setting his helmet down upon the front seat of the bike, Jared frowned. "We gotta do something with your uniform."
"What's wrong with it?" Jensen asked, looking down at his clothes.
"It's a uniform," Jared said. He thought for a moment and then pulled at the shoulder strap to Jensen's backpack. "Put that behind the bike, no one will see it."
Jensen slipped off the backpack and rested it between the motorcycle and the wall to the building. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked, turning back.
Jared reached out and tugged on Jensen's tie. "Mickey's," he answered. The tie was quickly shed, draped over the back seat of the bike. "A place Jeff comes to a lot after work." With just his thumb and forefinger, Jared unbuttoned Jensen's collar enough to hook his finger into it and pull it open. "What've you got on underneath that?"
Jared managed to get a look before Jensen could curl into himself, hiding from the prying eyes. Jared’s garage was one thing, but out here in the open? "Nothing," he said, a little annoyed. "What are you doing?"
"You're going into a bar with a bunch of bikers and truckers," Jared told him. "They see you looking like a pansy-ass, you're going to be an easy target."
Jensen narrowed his eyes at him. "Why does everyone keep telling me I'm an easy target today?"
Jared smiled. "Maybe because you are." He took off his leather jacket and handed it to Jensen, leaving himself in just his jeans and a ratty T-shirt. "Here. Put this on," he commanded.
"Why?"
"It makes you look like less of a Mama's boy."
Jensen was pretty sure he should be offended, but the reality of what was going on hit him. Jared was protecting him. Either that, or he was actually protecting himself - he probably didn't want to get into a fight because of the company he kept. Thoughts sobered, Jensen followed the man to the front door of the building.
Inside, the place was smoky, the dim lighting dominated by old neon signs. The cheap carpet on the floor was thin, worn to the cement floor in places. The ceiling was yellowed from years of smoke exposure, and the air felt heavy, smelling of stale beer, cigar smoke and leather. Classic rock music was piped through aging speakers, loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that it impeded conversation.
If the uniform didn't give him away, the look on Jensen's face surely did. Eyes wide, he looked around. The patrons were young and old alike, scruffy and tattooed. They wore leather, chains and biker boots. Most of them had beer guts that hung over their belts, while bandanas were tied around their heads to keep their long hair out of their eyes. At first, Jensen was pretty sure there wasn't more than an eighth grade education in the entire room, but then he remembered how Jared had surprised him like that. He could very well be selling some of these guys short.
Some.
"Padalecki!"
Jared's name wasn't shouted in a very friendly way. The snarl made Jensen turn around and look at the bartender, who was half-leaning over the bar and pointing at him.
"How old is that little prick?"
Jared laughed and waved the bartender's question away. "He's twenty-one, Rock," he answered.
"Bullshit," Rock answered. "Get him out of here."
"When was the last time I lied to you, baby?" Jared asked, setting both palms upon his chest. "I'm offended."
Rock frowned and shook his head. "You got 'til your old man gets here."
Jensen followed Jared over to an unused pool table, warily watching the bartender go back to his work. "Why..." he began, pausing long enough to catch up to Jared. "Why do they call him Rock?"
"See that scar on his forehead?" he asked, nodding towards the man.
"Yeah?"
"Took a spill on his bike, right?" he explained, choosing a couple of cue sticks. "Flew twenty feet and hit this huge-ass boulder head-on."
Jensen winced, glancing over at Rock. "And he survived?"
Jared's smile vanished in a heartbeat and he shook his head. "No," he said, handing Jensen one of the cue sticks.
Jensen then realized the silliness of his question and rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," he smiled. “It’s just kind of…unlikely.”
Jared chuckled and nodded towards the pool table. "Come on, college stuff," he said. "We got time for a couple games before Jeffrey gets here."
They played for money; Jared never played any other way. Jensen won the first game of pool, but he was pretty sure that Jared let him win because he wasn't exactly a pro at the game. He'd played before with Chris, but not enough to really consider himself a player.
By the end of the second game, Jensen decided that maybe he was being taken advantage of. Jared started to show his skills, and Jensen started to dig deeper into his wallet. By the end of the third game, Jensen narrowed his eyes at Jared's outstretched hand.
"You're hustling me, aren't you?"
Jared laughed, wiggling his fingers at him. "Pay up, hot stuff," he teased.
Still glaring, Jensen smiled and handed over the money.
"Come on, one more game."
"I don't think so," Jensen said, giving in. "I lose any more money, and I'll be eating packages of saltines from the salad bar at lunch."
Jared fished one of the fives out of the pile he'd taken from Jensen. He pulled open the boy's pocket and shoved the bill inside. "This one's on me," he said.
Sighing dramatically, Jensen tried to pretend that the little moments like that, that he and Jared shared, weren't going to be imprinted upon his memory for the rest of time. He wondered if he could remain just Jared's friend. Could he really watch Jared get close to a girl and still hang out with him? He decided, as he racked up the pool balls, that he would cross that bridge when he got there.
Jared broke and sunk the three ball straight away. He set his hands against the edge of the pool table and leaned against his arms, trying to determine his next shot. That's when the night started to fall apart.
A man neared the pool table, sporting a long white beard, a bandana on his head, and leather from head to toe. Between his teeth was the stub of a cigar, and his beard was yellowed from years of smoking. "Well, lookie lookie, boys," the man said in a gravelly voice. "It's the rat of the hour."
Jared glanced in the man's direction, but his eyes were hardened, the boyishness suddenly gone. "Fuck off, Chuck," he snarled.
Chuck removed the cigar from his mouth and feigned shock. "Is that how you talk to your old buddy?"
Immediately furious, Jared shoved away from the pool table and moved closer to Chuck. "We are not buddies," he growled, pointing a finger in the man's face. "Get out. You're not supposed to be here."
"Hey, I'm a paying patron," Chuck said, reaching behind him. One of his lackeys gave him a mug of beer that he raised to Jared and then drank from. "So tell me, Rat," he continued. "How has your new life been treating you?"
"Great," Jared smiled. "Especially since the restraining order against you came through."
Once again, Chuck pretended to be hurt. He gave the mug of beer back to his friend, not taking his eyes off the young man before him. "Jared," he said, shaking his head. "We were brothers once. You, me, the gang..."
"Shut up, Chuck," Jared almost yelled. "I told you I didn't ever want to see you again."
Chuck stood taller, nose-to-nose with Jared. "No, now see, Rat, that's where you're wrong," he growled. "It was me that told you that after you ratted us out to the fuzz."
"The fuzz?" Jared smirked. "The seventies called, they said they don't want your fat ugly ass either."
Chuck changed tactic then, grinning horribly. "Why don't you introduce us to your little girlfriend?" He smiled over at Jensen, winking and kissing at the air. "He's awful pretty, isn't he?"
Jensen swallowed nervously. He scanned the bar for any sign of Jeffrey, but the man hadn't arrived yet. He prayed that he wouldn't be much longer, as he feared how this confrontation was going to end.
Jaw clenched, Jared took a step back away from the crass biker. Without thinking, he tossed the pool cue in the air and grabbed hold of the tapered end. He swung the heavier, weighted end at Chuck's head, not even blinking at the blood that splattered across his face and shoulders. Jensen had ducked away instinctively, stepping back into someone. As Jared took another hit at Chuck, Jensen was grabbed by the collar of his jacket and spun around into a well-aimed fist. It caught him in the eye and he stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the pool table. The guy went for him again and he dodged to the side, avoiding it narrowly, then darted forward between the crowd of people. Jared yelled out as he punched Chuck in the shoulder and the noise diverted people’s attentions long enough for Jensen to slip into the bathroom unseen. He doubted it was intentional, but he was glad all the same. Feeling an overwhelming mix of terrified and guilty, Jensen found the only stall with a working lock and secured himself inside it, sitting on the lid of the toilet with his feet pulled up off the floor and his arms around his knees.
His heart was pounding. He should go back out there, try and help Jared. See how he was faring, at least. Call Jeffrey. Anything. But he couldn’t move a muscle.
--TBC--
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG all the way to NC-17 in future chapters.
Wordcount: 3,451
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.
CHAPTER SIX
He tried to muddle through his week, but Dad's words wouldn't stop bouncing around in his head.
"And you won't see this boy and his father again."
He knew he shouldn't be so upset. He'd only known Jared and Jeffrey for a matter of a couple of days. Still, he couldn't help but feel that he and Jared had really made a connection. And regardless of all the money and lavishness Jensen had in life, it seemed that what Jared and Jeffrey had was exactly what he wanted. He was tired of constantly being judged, each action scrutinized. He was tired of being treated like he was something more than he felt he truly was.
The week dragged by and he knew it was because he wanted it to be over. Nothing worth waiting for ever came quickly. So many people used to tell him that when he was a child and getting excited in the build-up to Christmas - despite the fact each one was usually filled with disappointment - and it was no different now. And yet, he wondered what he was going to do come the weekend. Technically, he was grounded until Sunday. He was pretty sure by then he would be clinically insane.
"Hey, man."
Jensen turned at the greeting. Chris was nearing him, raking his fingers through his hair. "Hey," Jensen greeted. He continued on his way, looking down at the floor as he walked.
"You still bummed, I take it?"
Jensen nodded, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "Kind of," he agreed. "I'm just not looking forward to a whole weekend being grounded. I'm going to be so bored."
"Screw that," Chris said, waving away Jensen's words. The man was always overly positive. Some days it helped Jensen, other days he found it annoying. "I may not be able to be there to keep you company, but your Dad didn't say you weren't allowed on AOL."
Jensen smiled as they pushed through the front doors to the school. "Yeah, I guess."
Chris draped his arm over Jensen's shoulders as they walked. "You're off to the bus stop, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll walk with you."
"Ooh, look there," someone said in a mocking voice. "Jenny and his boyfriend are off for a stroll together."
Jensen knew the annoying voice belonged to Doug. His smile vanished and his eyes hardened. "Shut up, Doug," he said, but not really loud enough for his classmate to hear.
"What's the matter, Doug?" Chris called over his shoulder. "Upset that you're still a virigin? Yeah, I would be too."
"Shut up, Kane," he snarled back.
Jensen laughed, glancing back to Doug just once. "I don't know how you do it," he said as they continued on their way. "I try to stand up to him..."
"Well, he hasn't beat on me every day since Kindergarten either," Chris reminded him. "You've been an easy target for him for all these years."
Jensen turned and looked at him, sobered by his friend's words. "Thank you."
Chris laughed, ruffling Jensen's short-cropped hair. "You know what I mean," he said. He let go of Jensen as they started through the parking lot to the school. "You are an easy target though, Jen, you gotta admit it. But you know I'll fight for you 'til my dying day."
Chris' last few words were said breathy and with forced emotion. Jensen laughed, and shoved him away. "You're such a freak."
"Me?" Chris chuckled. "You got it backwards, man."
Interrupting their conversation, there came the sound of a motor being revved. Jensen turned, remembering the sound of Jared's bike when they were working on it in the garage. He shielded his eyes to the late afternoon sunlight and studied the figure nearing the school. A smile began to spread across his face when he saw the word Suicycle scribed on the back of the bike.
"It's him," Jensen said, his voice soft.
"What?"
Jensen reached out and patted Chris's shoulder excitedly. "It's him."
Jared pulled up to them, stopping fast. The tires of the bike skidded against the pavement, making Chris take a step back out of fear. Jensen remained where he was, however. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, staring over at the helmeted driver.
Jared flipped up the visor on the helmet and looked over at Jensen. "What's up?"
Jensen couldn't see his face entirely, but he was pretty sure Jared was smiling at him. "What are you doing out here?"
Letting the bike idle, Jared sat up and pulled off his gloves. He set them on the gas tank and then reached up to unfasten the chin strap on the helmet. "Just driving around," he said. Of course, that was a lie, but he wouldn't admit it to Jensen. He had actually mentioned to Jeffrey, the night before, that he wondered what had happened to the pipsqueak that had spent the weekend with them. He'd almost gotten used to the kid being around.
Chris watched as Jared pulled the helmet off. He saw the barest hint of the tattoo on Jared's arm when his sleeve rode up a bit too high.
"Oh, this is Chris," Jensen said, motioning to his friend.
Jared nodded to him and then reached across the bike. "Hey, man," he greeted.
Chris smiled and shook Jared's hand. "Nice bike," he said.
"Thanks," he replied. He apparently had nothing further to say to Chris, because he turned to Jensen again then. "You wanna go for a ride?"
Jensen's happy demeanor quickly melted away. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his shoes. "I can't," he answered. "I'm grounded."
Tonguing his teeth for a second, Jared shrugged his shoulders. "For what?" he asked. He watched Jensen meet his eyes for just a second. "Not the Sunday thing."
Jensen nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Chris tried to cover for me, but Dad found out." He met Chris's eyes for a moment, still frowning, and then looked back over at Jared. "He's demanding that I stay away from you and Jeff too."
"What the fuck for?"
Jensen shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I don't get it either."
"No offense, Jen, but your Dad's an asshole," Jared said.
Chris chuckled and nodded in agreement, while Jared reached towards the back of the bike.
"What time does he get home?"
Jensen shrugged at Jared. "Six?" he answered. "It depends on how court went."
Smiling, Jared shoved a helmet at Jensen. It thumped against his chest, making him grunt, more out of surprise than pain. "What Dad don't know, won't hurt him," he said.
Jensen looked down at the helmet, over at Jared and then at Chris. He saw his friend give him a look that said, I don't know, man. Still, he smiled brightly. He shimmied into the shoulder straps of his backpack and took the helmet from Jared.
"Jen," Chris warned.
"Don't worry," Jensen said, jamming the helmet on. "I'm not going to ask you to lie for me again."
"That's not it," he returned. "You know I would no matter what. But if your Dad finds out..." He glanced over at Jared, who had already put his own helmet back on, and was fastening the chin strap. He wished the man would simply say something to deter Jensen.
"He won't," Jensen assured him. He hopped on the back of the bike, settling against Jared, while the man put his leather gloves back on. "I'll be home before he knows it."
"Jensen..."
Jared flipped down the visor on his helmet and revved the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot, leaving Chris to turn away, shielding his eyes against the dust that blew in his face.
"Jen!" Chris called one last time, even though he knew it was futile. Sighing, he watched the bike speed away, the two men moving as one on the vehicle. "Your Dad's going to kill you," he said softly.
Jensen didn't even care where they ended up. Even if they ended up at his house, he decided that he could make it through until Sunday. He wasn't even properly processing things around him at first. Finally, he realized that his hands were at Jared's waist, their thighs just barely touching. Jensen's chest was just inches away from Jared's back.
Breaking into his thoughts, Jensen felt a hand tap his. He looked around Jared's shoulder, watching as the man turned to him as best he could.
"Hold on tighter," Jared told him, shouting over the sound of the bike.
"Why?" Jensen asked, his own words muffled by the helmet.
Jared didn't say anything in return. Instead, he pointed directly ahead of them. He had managed to find a relatively deserted stretch of road that was reasonably straight. Jensen had an idea of what Jared was about to do, and felt his heart pound in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Jared's midriff and felt the man pat his hands one last time.
The bike took off like a shot. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Jensen started out with his eyes closed, but after a second or two he wanted to see the scenery passing with flying colors. He laughed loudly as Jared continued down the stretch of road at break-neck speed. He loved the feel of the wind against their bodies, adored the feel of his arms around Jared's waist.
It was hard to hear the wailing at first, but eventually Jensen realized that he was hearing a police siren amongst the rushing of the wind. He turned and looked behind them, seeing a police car in the distance. Jared had easily broken the speed limit, and the cop was going to have a field day. He didn't bother to call out to Jared; he saw the man glancing into the rear-view mirrors. Instead of slowing down, though, he kicked the bike up a notch and weaved in and out of the few cars that they had caught up to.
The bike eventually slowed, turning into a packed parking lot. Jared didn't park in one of the spots available. Instead, he headed around to the back of the building and turned the motorcycle off. They heard the cop car speed past the building they were hiding behind, sirens blaring, and Jensen laughed as he tugged at the chin strap on the helmet.
"How many times have you done that?" he asked.
Jared swung his leg off the bike and pulled his helmet off, standing tall. "Enough that you'd think they'd know better by now," he answered.
Jensen rested his helmet on the back of the bike, still smiling. When he turned back to Jared, he found the man staring at him. He waited for Jared to speak, but only silence prevailed. Smile fading, he stared up at him. "What?" he finally asked.
Setting his helmet down upon the front seat of the bike, Jared frowned. "We gotta do something with your uniform."
"What's wrong with it?" Jensen asked, looking down at his clothes.
"It's a uniform," Jared said. He thought for a moment and then pulled at the shoulder strap to Jensen's backpack. "Put that behind the bike, no one will see it."
Jensen slipped off the backpack and rested it between the motorcycle and the wall to the building. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked, turning back.
Jared reached out and tugged on Jensen's tie. "Mickey's," he answered. The tie was quickly shed, draped over the back seat of the bike. "A place Jeff comes to a lot after work." With just his thumb and forefinger, Jared unbuttoned Jensen's collar enough to hook his finger into it and pull it open. "What've you got on underneath that?"
Jared managed to get a look before Jensen could curl into himself, hiding from the prying eyes. Jared’s garage was one thing, but out here in the open? "Nothing," he said, a little annoyed. "What are you doing?"
"You're going into a bar with a bunch of bikers and truckers," Jared told him. "They see you looking like a pansy-ass, you're going to be an easy target."
Jensen narrowed his eyes at him. "Why does everyone keep telling me I'm an easy target today?"
Jared smiled. "Maybe because you are." He took off his leather jacket and handed it to Jensen, leaving himself in just his jeans and a ratty T-shirt. "Here. Put this on," he commanded.
"Why?"
"It makes you look like less of a Mama's boy."
Jensen was pretty sure he should be offended, but the reality of what was going on hit him. Jared was protecting him. Either that, or he was actually protecting himself - he probably didn't want to get into a fight because of the company he kept. Thoughts sobered, Jensen followed the man to the front door of the building.
Inside, the place was smoky, the dim lighting dominated by old neon signs. The cheap carpet on the floor was thin, worn to the cement floor in places. The ceiling was yellowed from years of smoke exposure, and the air felt heavy, smelling of stale beer, cigar smoke and leather. Classic rock music was piped through aging speakers, loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that it impeded conversation.
If the uniform didn't give him away, the look on Jensen's face surely did. Eyes wide, he looked around. The patrons were young and old alike, scruffy and tattooed. They wore leather, chains and biker boots. Most of them had beer guts that hung over their belts, while bandanas were tied around their heads to keep their long hair out of their eyes. At first, Jensen was pretty sure there wasn't more than an eighth grade education in the entire room, but then he remembered how Jared had surprised him like that. He could very well be selling some of these guys short.
Some.
"Padalecki!"
Jared's name wasn't shouted in a very friendly way. The snarl made Jensen turn around and look at the bartender, who was half-leaning over the bar and pointing at him.
"How old is that little prick?"
Jared laughed and waved the bartender's question away. "He's twenty-one, Rock," he answered.
"Bullshit," Rock answered. "Get him out of here."
"When was the last time I lied to you, baby?" Jared asked, setting both palms upon his chest. "I'm offended."
Rock frowned and shook his head. "You got 'til your old man gets here."
Jensen followed Jared over to an unused pool table, warily watching the bartender go back to his work. "Why..." he began, pausing long enough to catch up to Jared. "Why do they call him Rock?"
"See that scar on his forehead?" he asked, nodding towards the man.
"Yeah?"
"Took a spill on his bike, right?" he explained, choosing a couple of cue sticks. "Flew twenty feet and hit this huge-ass boulder head-on."
Jensen winced, glancing over at Rock. "And he survived?"
Jared's smile vanished in a heartbeat and he shook his head. "No," he said, handing Jensen one of the cue sticks.
Jensen then realized the silliness of his question and rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," he smiled. “It’s just kind of…unlikely.”
Jared chuckled and nodded towards the pool table. "Come on, college stuff," he said. "We got time for a couple games before Jeffrey gets here."
They played for money; Jared never played any other way. Jensen won the first game of pool, but he was pretty sure that Jared let him win because he wasn't exactly a pro at the game. He'd played before with Chris, but not enough to really consider himself a player.
By the end of the second game, Jensen decided that maybe he was being taken advantage of. Jared started to show his skills, and Jensen started to dig deeper into his wallet. By the end of the third game, Jensen narrowed his eyes at Jared's outstretched hand.
"You're hustling me, aren't you?"
Jared laughed, wiggling his fingers at him. "Pay up, hot stuff," he teased.
Still glaring, Jensen smiled and handed over the money.
"Come on, one more game."
"I don't think so," Jensen said, giving in. "I lose any more money, and I'll be eating packages of saltines from the salad bar at lunch."
Jared fished one of the fives out of the pile he'd taken from Jensen. He pulled open the boy's pocket and shoved the bill inside. "This one's on me," he said.
Sighing dramatically, Jensen tried to pretend that the little moments like that, that he and Jared shared, weren't going to be imprinted upon his memory for the rest of time. He wondered if he could remain just Jared's friend. Could he really watch Jared get close to a girl and still hang out with him? He decided, as he racked up the pool balls, that he would cross that bridge when he got there.
Jared broke and sunk the three ball straight away. He set his hands against the edge of the pool table and leaned against his arms, trying to determine his next shot. That's when the night started to fall apart.
A man neared the pool table, sporting a long white beard, a bandana on his head, and leather from head to toe. Between his teeth was the stub of a cigar, and his beard was yellowed from years of smoking. "Well, lookie lookie, boys," the man said in a gravelly voice. "It's the rat of the hour."
Jared glanced in the man's direction, but his eyes were hardened, the boyishness suddenly gone. "Fuck off, Chuck," he snarled.
Chuck removed the cigar from his mouth and feigned shock. "Is that how you talk to your old buddy?"
Immediately furious, Jared shoved away from the pool table and moved closer to Chuck. "We are not buddies," he growled, pointing a finger in the man's face. "Get out. You're not supposed to be here."
"Hey, I'm a paying patron," Chuck said, reaching behind him. One of his lackeys gave him a mug of beer that he raised to Jared and then drank from. "So tell me, Rat," he continued. "How has your new life been treating you?"
"Great," Jared smiled. "Especially since the restraining order against you came through."
Once again, Chuck pretended to be hurt. He gave the mug of beer back to his friend, not taking his eyes off the young man before him. "Jared," he said, shaking his head. "We were brothers once. You, me, the gang..."
"Shut up, Chuck," Jared almost yelled. "I told you I didn't ever want to see you again."
Chuck stood taller, nose-to-nose with Jared. "No, now see, Rat, that's where you're wrong," he growled. "It was me that told you that after you ratted us out to the fuzz."
"The fuzz?" Jared smirked. "The seventies called, they said they don't want your fat ugly ass either."
Chuck changed tactic then, grinning horribly. "Why don't you introduce us to your little girlfriend?" He smiled over at Jensen, winking and kissing at the air. "He's awful pretty, isn't he?"
Jensen swallowed nervously. He scanned the bar for any sign of Jeffrey, but the man hadn't arrived yet. He prayed that he wouldn't be much longer, as he feared how this confrontation was going to end.
Jaw clenched, Jared took a step back away from the crass biker. Without thinking, he tossed the pool cue in the air and grabbed hold of the tapered end. He swung the heavier, weighted end at Chuck's head, not even blinking at the blood that splattered across his face and shoulders. Jensen had ducked away instinctively, stepping back into someone. As Jared took another hit at Chuck, Jensen was grabbed by the collar of his jacket and spun around into a well-aimed fist. It caught him in the eye and he stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the pool table. The guy went for him again and he dodged to the side, avoiding it narrowly, then darted forward between the crowd of people. Jared yelled out as he punched Chuck in the shoulder and the noise diverted people’s attentions long enough for Jensen to slip into the bathroom unseen. He doubted it was intentional, but he was glad all the same. Feeling an overwhelming mix of terrified and guilty, Jensen found the only stall with a working lock and secured himself inside it, sitting on the lid of the toilet with his feet pulled up off the floor and his arms around his knees.
His heart was pounding. He should go back out there, try and help Jared. See how he was faring, at least. Call Jeffrey. Anything. But he couldn’t move a muscle.
--TBC--