Smoke & Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder [7/?]
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (7/?)
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: 3,256
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 SEVEN
Jensen didn't know how much time had passed. He had listened to the fight, but was unaware of how long it had been quiet again. He thought that the silence had been sudden, thought that there had then been raised voices before everything went quiet again, but he honestly wasn't sure. He started as his phone rang from his trouser pocket, his heart in his throat as he recognised the ringtone. Dad. He quickly dug into his pocket and silenced it before it drew anyone else's attention. He was too late, though. He heard the door to the bathroom open and footsteps on the dirty tile. Someone kicked at his stall door and he whimpered, pulling himself as far back as he could go.
"Jensen? Open the door."
He swallowed, licking his lips. "Jared?"
"Yeah. Come on, open up."
Slowly, he pulled back the lock, but stayed where he was as the door was pushed open. Jeffrey stood beside Jared, looking in at him.
"Hey, it's all right to come out, kiddo," he said, holding out his hand. Jensen took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Jeffrey drew him out and let him go, taking in his pale face and worried eyes. "First bar fight?"
"Yes."
"You'll toughen up."
Jensen stared at him. He didn't want to toughen up! Then Jared cuffed his shoulder, grabbing his attention.
"Hey, thanks for sticking by me. You really are a pansy-assed mothe-" He was cut short as Jeffrey slapped the back of his head, gently.
"That's enough. He ain't used to it, you are. What the hell were you doing bringing him out here anyhow? You know Mickey's doesn't house nothing but trouble. You an idiot, boy?"
"Would it have killed him to grow a set and help me fight?" Jared complained, rubbing the back of his head. Jensen noticed that his knuckles were raw and bloodied, that his face was spattered with blood and that his arms were marked dark with coming bruises.
"You know it might've, at that. And then where the hell would you be? You could have just walked away, Jared, but no. You always gotta have the last word. Throw the last punch."
"Chuck's a fucking asshole. He deserved everything he got."
"I agree, but you don't always have to be the one dishing it out to him. He's got plenty other enemies besides you. Now come on. Let's get you both home." He reached an arm around Jensen, pulling him close. Jared led them both out, still complaining under his breath. Jensen wished he had the balls to say something to him, but everything Jared was saying was true. And besides, he was too busy trying not to look at the carnage in the bar.
Out back, Jared stopped and Jensen nearly walked into him. "That dick!"
"What?" Jeffrey asked.
"Look what he did to my fucking bike!"
Jensen looked over Jared's shoulder and drew in a sharp breath. The bike lay on its side. Jensen could see that they'd beaten the crap out of the machine and it was mangled and dented. He watched Jared drop to a crouch beside it, running his hands over the twisted metal. Heard him curse again.
"Jared, leave it. I'll bring the truck over from work tomorrow and pick it up then. But there's no way you're taking that back tonight."
Jensen retrieved his backpack from behind it, thankful they'd left it alone, and ignored Jared's pissed off remarks. He felt bad enough without hearing what the other man had to say. Jeffrey told them to go wait in his car, handing Jensen the keys, and they watched him drag the bike away from the building and towards a better sheltered area where nobody would notice it. He then joined them in the car, slipping behind the wheel without a word. Jared sat beside him and Jensen sat in the back, not wanting to break the silence. It was only as they neared town again that he knew he had to.
"Can..can you drop me off near home? Please?" He didn't look at Jared; knew the man was glaring at him again. Let him be mad, he thought. It wasn't anything compared to the reaction he was now going to receive from his father.
Jeffrey nodded, understanding, and pretty soon he was stopping the car a few yards down from Jensen's place and letting him out. Jensen leaned back into the car for just a moment before he closed the door and said, "I'm really sorry, Jared. I wish there hadn't been any trouble. I was enjoying myself."
"Yeah, well. You better go kiss up to your old man, before he grounds you for life."
"Will I see you again?"
"Kind of depends on you, not me."
Jensen nodded, stepping back and shutting the door so Jeffrey could pull away. "Good luck, kid," he said, just before he drove off.
Yeah, Jensen thought, miserably. I'm gonna need it.
As soon as Jensen was in the front door he could sense the heavy atmosphere. He noticed Kenzie standing in the doorway to the lounge, looking nervous and fearful, and knew his father had been ranting at her about Jensen's behaviour already. Josh would be out and his mother, he remembered, would be at a book club meeting with her friends. That meant no calming influences, no rational voices. Just his father yelling and his little sister cowering, too afraid to speak out. Kenzie pointed towards the door to the kitchen and then hurried past him and upstairs. He dropped his bag as he heard her bedroom door slam shut. The next thing he knew, Alan was there. His father grabbed at his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen, throwing him down into a chair.
"What the hell is this?" He demanded, indicating the leather jacket that Jensen still wore. Then his eyes went wide and Jensen could see the blood rushing to his face. "Them," he hissed, his voice filled with venom. "You were with that damned family, weren't you? I told you to stay away from them! Does my word mean nothing to you? You were grounded and you do this, why are you behaving like this son?" He paused, for a breath, and Jensen felt his throat dry out. His dad was so angry, he realized, that he wasn't able to keep to a single thought. They were running together as he spoke, his voice getting harsher with each word. "Jared Padalecki. I knew that name was familiar. He's a criminal, Jensen! Is that what you want? You want to become one of them?"
"No, sir."
His dad screamed the question again, right in his face, and something inside Jensen snapped at the look in his eyes.
"You know, maybe I decided to hang out with those criminals because they treat me more like part of the family than you ever did!" Even as he said it he was trying to swallow the words, take them back. But he couldn't stop and he knew his dad wouldn't just let such a remark go.
"And what on God's green earth is that supposed to mean? We've given you everything you needed. Always. You know the sacrifices we've made for you, you ungrateful little ass?"
"Oh god, yeah, just say it dad. Say what you've given up for me. Everything except the one goddamned thing I might want. The one thing I might be missing in my life. You ever stop and wonder why other guys think I'm such a tough person to be friends with? Why they'd rather just beat on me than try and start a conversation? 'Cause I don't know how to have a conversation. I don't know how to make friends with those people!"
"You have friends. At least Chris doesn't have a rap sheet!"
Jensen laughed, the sound bitter. "Oh, 'cause that's what this is all about, huh? Chris is friends with me out of pity. I figured that out long ago, but I never complained because I was just so grateful to have someone show me that little bit of affection. Jared? Jeffrey? They showed me that without a single hesitation. That's all I ever wanted out of this family and all I never got. So, y'know what? There's your stupid reason. That's the thing I'm apologizing for." His voice broke on the last words, but his father remained impassive. Jensen knew he wasn't even hearing him any more.
Alan leaned in closer, his voice low. "You hate us so much then maybe you should just get out of this house."
Jensen gaped up at his father, unable to believe what he'd just heard. "What? Are you even listening to me?"
"Oh yeah, I heard you. And now you hear this. You either stay here and abide by the rules I set down, because no matter how old you are you're still my son, and you show some damned respect, or you get out."
Jensen got up from his seat, shrugging off his father's hand as he tried to sit him back down. "I don't think I've ever felt less like your son." He pushed past him and made for the stairs, his feet heavy as he went up to his room. Alan followed. Jensen pulled a large holdall from his closet and started throwing clothes into it. His father grabbed at his arm, only to be shrugged off again.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What the hell does it look like? You don't want me here, I'm gone."
"Really, and you go where? Knocking on the door of that worthless scum you think you're calling a friend? You're not an idiot, JR. Don't throw your life away!"
"I'm not throwing anything away. Maybe I'm grabbing at something before it passes me by." He paused for just a second, letting his words sink in for himself as much as his dad. It was an odd feeling, he thought, to come clean to yourself like that. He hadn't even realized it, but his words were completely true. This was a chance, he thought, and he had recognized it and wanted to take it. He zipped up the holdall and stared at his dad until he moved out of Jensen's way, following him as far as the doorway.
"If you leave now you don't come back. You know that, son? Make sure you know what you're doing."
Jensen turned to him from the top of the stairs. "I know exactly what I'm doing. See you around, dad."
He'd walked about seven blocks when it began raining. He had intended to walk all the way to the other side of town, hoping that using his energy for that would help get rid of some of his anger. So far it wasn't working. He kept replaying the conversation in his head and wondering how his dad got to caring so little about keeping his family together. Jensen knew he couldn't hate his own father, but he had realized that he didn't really like him very much either. It was much too difficult to. He wondered how the rest of the family truly felt about him; about the way he dealt with them.
As the bottoms of Jensen's pants got wetter, he decided there was no way he could walk all the way across town. He dug out his phone instead and rang the number of the cab company he used most often. He was told it would take ten minutes to get to him and he took shelter in the doorway of an unlit store.
His dad had been right about one thing, at least. Jeffrey's house was precisely where he knew he would end up. Although after tonight, common sense told him that maybe Chris would be a wiser choice. Jared might still be mad at him for bailing, after all. There was a moment of indecision when his cab arrived five minutes late, but he blurted out the name of Jared and Jeffrey's road and then hauled his bag across the seat towards him, before he could change his mind. The rain stopped while they were en route and Jensen squinted out into the dark, trying to see more of the neighbourhood. There were lights on in Jeffrey's house, he saw, as the cab pulled up beside it. The garage door was open and Jared sat just inside it, on a striped deck-chair, out of the wet. He was pressing an icepack against his cheek, obviously still suffering.
Jensen paid the driver, thanked him, and grabbed his bag from the backseat, hearing the front door open as Jeffrey came out onto the porch. As Jensen neared the front of the garage, Jared took the icepack away and dropped it on the floor, exchanging it for an open beer he had there.
"Hey, asshole," he muttered.
Jensen stopped, standing there awkwardly with the straps of his bag pulled over one shoulder. "Hey. Still sore?"
"Fuck you. I still kicked Chuck's ass. Without you. What's the bag for? You going on a trip?"
Jeffrey, who'd just reached them both, clouted Jared again.
"Ow, fuck man! People need to stop hitting me tonight already!"
"Stop being a jerk and talk nice to your friend," Jeffrey told him.
"I asked him what the bag was for. What's not nice about that?"
Jensen dropped his bag on the ground, quieting them both. "I got thrown out. Or left. I don't know which it ended up being."
"So you figured you'd come straight here?" Jared asked. He was obviously still annoyed.
"Jay." Jeffrey's voice carried a note of warning that Jensen thought he must get tired of using with Jared sometimes.
"A guy can ask a simple question. 'Sides, I'm betting ten to one he ends up sleeping in there with me." He pointed over his shoulder into the musty garage. "And I end up having to do the school run like some fucked up soccer mom."
Jeffrey stared down at him in disbelief. "Jesus, you're an asshole. Jensen? You can stay in the house if you want."
"Wait, he gets to stay in the house and I have to sleep in your crappy garage?"
"You don't have to sleep in there. I can toss you out any time I want."
Jared waved a hand in Jensen's direction, scowling. "Jensen, you can share my garage. I know you'd rather be in there anyway."
Jensen watched them arguing, feeling more amused than anything. Their arguments seemed so good-natured and not at all serious, and it made a refreshing change. Eventually, Jeffrey just put up his hands and backed away from them both.
"It's up to you, Jensen. I'll let you stay out here if you want. But you know you're always welcome if you want to use the spare room inside. If Jared's snoring gets too loud. If he starts being a grade-A dick to you. You just come on in and let me know."
Jensen laughed. "Thanks, Jeff. I will. I promise."
He left them both alone and Jared told Jensen to bring his shit inside so he could close up for the night. He dropped the holdall at one end of the couch as Jared pulled the door closed and dragged the deck-chair back against one wall. "Knew this'd happen," Jared said. "You just can't stay away, can you?"
"I'm not going to cause you any trouble again."
"Oh, you will. I know you will. But I'm good with trouble," Jared reminded him, grinning. The movement made his lip crack open and start bleeding again, but he didn't seem too bothered by it. He was otherwise clean. Jensen thought he must've showered when he'd got in and then had Jeffrey clean his wounds up. He looked better. Jensen wished he could do the same, but decided he could leave it until morning. He didn't feel like disturbing Jeffrey again tonight and, besides, he was suddenly feeling very weary. Jared had noticed, too, as he pointed upwards. "Bedtime, huh?"
"God, yes. Please."
Ten minutes later they were stretched out side by side in Jared's bed. Jensen in his boxers and a teeshirt, Jared in tight shorts that Jensen was trying desperately not to think about. He wasn't as tense as that first night, at least, but he knew it might take him a while to relax enough for sleep. Especially as Jared seemed to want to talk.
"So, you know earlier?"
"Yeah, I know. I'm a wimp. You'd think I'd be used to it with everything, but...I guess not."
"Still. Don't ever ditch me like that again. I mean it."
"I'd just got punched in the face! I'm sorry!"
"Yeah, and I was fighting off a room full of huge and nasty bikers. Let's play a game called who was worse off, huh? I win. End of."
"All right, I'm sorry. Jeez. If I could turn back time I'd have stayed and got my face kicked in alongside you. That what you want to hear?"
"Close enough." Jared was silent for a moment, then chuckled. "You need to stop rising to the bait so much. I don't hate you for it, all right? I'd rather you were safe and out of trouble than slowing me down. It was easier to fight when I knew I didn't have to watch out for you, too. Jeffrey would have kicked my ass harder than every guy in that bar put together if I'd let you get hurt. Please, though, for my sake and yours. Learn to fight for next time."
"What makes you so sure there'll even be a next time?"
"If you're going to stick around then I'm pretty damned sure there will be. But if you cheese it one more time, I will fucking rip you a new one."
Jensen rolled onto his side to stare at Jared. "What's that supposed to mean? If I stick around you'll be in another brawl? Man, you seem to get into them without my help."
"Nah, it's definitely you. They're all jealous I got such pretty company."
Jensen bit his lip and fell quiet, looking away. Pretty? Jared didn't really think that, right? That was just one of those stupid, throwaway comments that he kept making, the ones that made Jensen hope, stupidly, that maybe he felt something in return. He glanced over at him and wished he hadn't. Jared was watching him, as if waiting to hear what he was thinking about. He wasn't thinking about anything at all, as he leaned over quickly and kissed Jared square on the mouth. He pulled back after less than a second and turned away, feeling like he might throw up from nerves. He couldn't hear Jared breathing.
"What...what the fuck was that?"
Jensen licked his lips, shut his eyes. "Awkward? I'm going to say awkward. And good night."
"You just-"
"Just ignore me. Really."
"You kissed me!"
Jensen whispered to him to shut up, pulling the covers tighter over himself.
"Don't tell me to shut up when you just kissed me. Jensen-"
"Leave it. I'm sorry. Really."
To his surprise, Jared said nothing more. But he could feel his stare against the back of his head and wished in that moment that he had stayed at home instead. He was such a fucking idiot. He didn't think he would make it to sleep, but he heard Jared start snoring a short while later and, eventually, he too drifted off.
--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: 3,256
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 SEVEN
Jensen didn't know how much time had passed. He had listened to the fight, but was unaware of how long it had been quiet again. He thought that the silence had been sudden, thought that there had then been raised voices before everything went quiet again, but he honestly wasn't sure. He started as his phone rang from his trouser pocket, his heart in his throat as he recognised the ringtone. Dad. He quickly dug into his pocket and silenced it before it drew anyone else's attention. He was too late, though. He heard the door to the bathroom open and footsteps on the dirty tile. Someone kicked at his stall door and he whimpered, pulling himself as far back as he could go.
"Jensen? Open the door."
He swallowed, licking his lips. "Jared?"
"Yeah. Come on, open up."
Slowly, he pulled back the lock, but stayed where he was as the door was pushed open. Jeffrey stood beside Jared, looking in at him.
"Hey, it's all right to come out, kiddo," he said, holding out his hand. Jensen took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Jeffrey drew him out and let him go, taking in his pale face and worried eyes. "First bar fight?"
"Yes."
"You'll toughen up."
Jensen stared at him. He didn't want to toughen up! Then Jared cuffed his shoulder, grabbing his attention.
"Hey, thanks for sticking by me. You really are a pansy-assed mothe-" He was cut short as Jeffrey slapped the back of his head, gently.
"That's enough. He ain't used to it, you are. What the hell were you doing bringing him out here anyhow? You know Mickey's doesn't house nothing but trouble. You an idiot, boy?"
"Would it have killed him to grow a set and help me fight?" Jared complained, rubbing the back of his head. Jensen noticed that his knuckles were raw and bloodied, that his face was spattered with blood and that his arms were marked dark with coming bruises.
"You know it might've, at that. And then where the hell would you be? You could have just walked away, Jared, but no. You always gotta have the last word. Throw the last punch."
"Chuck's a fucking asshole. He deserved everything he got."
"I agree, but you don't always have to be the one dishing it out to him. He's got plenty other enemies besides you. Now come on. Let's get you both home." He reached an arm around Jensen, pulling him close. Jared led them both out, still complaining under his breath. Jensen wished he had the balls to say something to him, but everything Jared was saying was true. And besides, he was too busy trying not to look at the carnage in the bar.
Out back, Jared stopped and Jensen nearly walked into him. "That dick!"
"What?" Jeffrey asked.
"Look what he did to my fucking bike!"
Jensen looked over Jared's shoulder and drew in a sharp breath. The bike lay on its side. Jensen could see that they'd beaten the crap out of the machine and it was mangled and dented. He watched Jared drop to a crouch beside it, running his hands over the twisted metal. Heard him curse again.
"Jared, leave it. I'll bring the truck over from work tomorrow and pick it up then. But there's no way you're taking that back tonight."
Jensen retrieved his backpack from behind it, thankful they'd left it alone, and ignored Jared's pissed off remarks. He felt bad enough without hearing what the other man had to say. Jeffrey told them to go wait in his car, handing Jensen the keys, and they watched him drag the bike away from the building and towards a better sheltered area where nobody would notice it. He then joined them in the car, slipping behind the wheel without a word. Jared sat beside him and Jensen sat in the back, not wanting to break the silence. It was only as they neared town again that he knew he had to.
"Can..can you drop me off near home? Please?" He didn't look at Jared; knew the man was glaring at him again. Let him be mad, he thought. It wasn't anything compared to the reaction he was now going to receive from his father.
Jeffrey nodded, understanding, and pretty soon he was stopping the car a few yards down from Jensen's place and letting him out. Jensen leaned back into the car for just a moment before he closed the door and said, "I'm really sorry, Jared. I wish there hadn't been any trouble. I was enjoying myself."
"Yeah, well. You better go kiss up to your old man, before he grounds you for life."
"Will I see you again?"
"Kind of depends on you, not me."
Jensen nodded, stepping back and shutting the door so Jeffrey could pull away. "Good luck, kid," he said, just before he drove off.
Yeah, Jensen thought, miserably. I'm gonna need it.
As soon as Jensen was in the front door he could sense the heavy atmosphere. He noticed Kenzie standing in the doorway to the lounge, looking nervous and fearful, and knew his father had been ranting at her about Jensen's behaviour already. Josh would be out and his mother, he remembered, would be at a book club meeting with her friends. That meant no calming influences, no rational voices. Just his father yelling and his little sister cowering, too afraid to speak out. Kenzie pointed towards the door to the kitchen and then hurried past him and upstairs. He dropped his bag as he heard her bedroom door slam shut. The next thing he knew, Alan was there. His father grabbed at his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen, throwing him down into a chair.
"What the hell is this?" He demanded, indicating the leather jacket that Jensen still wore. Then his eyes went wide and Jensen could see the blood rushing to his face. "Them," he hissed, his voice filled with venom. "You were with that damned family, weren't you? I told you to stay away from them! Does my word mean nothing to you? You were grounded and you do this, why are you behaving like this son?" He paused, for a breath, and Jensen felt his throat dry out. His dad was so angry, he realized, that he wasn't able to keep to a single thought. They were running together as he spoke, his voice getting harsher with each word. "Jared Padalecki. I knew that name was familiar. He's a criminal, Jensen! Is that what you want? You want to become one of them?"
"No, sir."
His dad screamed the question again, right in his face, and something inside Jensen snapped at the look in his eyes.
"You know, maybe I decided to hang out with those criminals because they treat me more like part of the family than you ever did!" Even as he said it he was trying to swallow the words, take them back. But he couldn't stop and he knew his dad wouldn't just let such a remark go.
"And what on God's green earth is that supposed to mean? We've given you everything you needed. Always. You know the sacrifices we've made for you, you ungrateful little ass?"
"Oh god, yeah, just say it dad. Say what you've given up for me. Everything except the one goddamned thing I might want. The one thing I might be missing in my life. You ever stop and wonder why other guys think I'm such a tough person to be friends with? Why they'd rather just beat on me than try and start a conversation? 'Cause I don't know how to have a conversation. I don't know how to make friends with those people!"
"You have friends. At least Chris doesn't have a rap sheet!"
Jensen laughed, the sound bitter. "Oh, 'cause that's what this is all about, huh? Chris is friends with me out of pity. I figured that out long ago, but I never complained because I was just so grateful to have someone show me that little bit of affection. Jared? Jeffrey? They showed me that without a single hesitation. That's all I ever wanted out of this family and all I never got. So, y'know what? There's your stupid reason. That's the thing I'm apologizing for." His voice broke on the last words, but his father remained impassive. Jensen knew he wasn't even hearing him any more.
Alan leaned in closer, his voice low. "You hate us so much then maybe you should just get out of this house."
Jensen gaped up at his father, unable to believe what he'd just heard. "What? Are you even listening to me?"
"Oh yeah, I heard you. And now you hear this. You either stay here and abide by the rules I set down, because no matter how old you are you're still my son, and you show some damned respect, or you get out."
Jensen got up from his seat, shrugging off his father's hand as he tried to sit him back down. "I don't think I've ever felt less like your son." He pushed past him and made for the stairs, his feet heavy as he went up to his room. Alan followed. Jensen pulled a large holdall from his closet and started throwing clothes into it. His father grabbed at his arm, only to be shrugged off again.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What the hell does it look like? You don't want me here, I'm gone."
"Really, and you go where? Knocking on the door of that worthless scum you think you're calling a friend? You're not an idiot, JR. Don't throw your life away!"
"I'm not throwing anything away. Maybe I'm grabbing at something before it passes me by." He paused for just a second, letting his words sink in for himself as much as his dad. It was an odd feeling, he thought, to come clean to yourself like that. He hadn't even realized it, but his words were completely true. This was a chance, he thought, and he had recognized it and wanted to take it. He zipped up the holdall and stared at his dad until he moved out of Jensen's way, following him as far as the doorway.
"If you leave now you don't come back. You know that, son? Make sure you know what you're doing."
Jensen turned to him from the top of the stairs. "I know exactly what I'm doing. See you around, dad."
He'd walked about seven blocks when it began raining. He had intended to walk all the way to the other side of town, hoping that using his energy for that would help get rid of some of his anger. So far it wasn't working. He kept replaying the conversation in his head and wondering how his dad got to caring so little about keeping his family together. Jensen knew he couldn't hate his own father, but he had realized that he didn't really like him very much either. It was much too difficult to. He wondered how the rest of the family truly felt about him; about the way he dealt with them.
As the bottoms of Jensen's pants got wetter, he decided there was no way he could walk all the way across town. He dug out his phone instead and rang the number of the cab company he used most often. He was told it would take ten minutes to get to him and he took shelter in the doorway of an unlit store.
His dad had been right about one thing, at least. Jeffrey's house was precisely where he knew he would end up. Although after tonight, common sense told him that maybe Chris would be a wiser choice. Jared might still be mad at him for bailing, after all. There was a moment of indecision when his cab arrived five minutes late, but he blurted out the name of Jared and Jeffrey's road and then hauled his bag across the seat towards him, before he could change his mind. The rain stopped while they were en route and Jensen squinted out into the dark, trying to see more of the neighbourhood. There were lights on in Jeffrey's house, he saw, as the cab pulled up beside it. The garage door was open and Jared sat just inside it, on a striped deck-chair, out of the wet. He was pressing an icepack against his cheek, obviously still suffering.
Jensen paid the driver, thanked him, and grabbed his bag from the backseat, hearing the front door open as Jeffrey came out onto the porch. As Jensen neared the front of the garage, Jared took the icepack away and dropped it on the floor, exchanging it for an open beer he had there.
"Hey, asshole," he muttered.
Jensen stopped, standing there awkwardly with the straps of his bag pulled over one shoulder. "Hey. Still sore?"
"Fuck you. I still kicked Chuck's ass. Without you. What's the bag for? You going on a trip?"
Jeffrey, who'd just reached them both, clouted Jared again.
"Ow, fuck man! People need to stop hitting me tonight already!"
"Stop being a jerk and talk nice to your friend," Jeffrey told him.
"I asked him what the bag was for. What's not nice about that?"
Jensen dropped his bag on the ground, quieting them both. "I got thrown out. Or left. I don't know which it ended up being."
"So you figured you'd come straight here?" Jared asked. He was obviously still annoyed.
"Jay." Jeffrey's voice carried a note of warning that Jensen thought he must get tired of using with Jared sometimes.
"A guy can ask a simple question. 'Sides, I'm betting ten to one he ends up sleeping in there with me." He pointed over his shoulder into the musty garage. "And I end up having to do the school run like some fucked up soccer mom."
Jeffrey stared down at him in disbelief. "Jesus, you're an asshole. Jensen? You can stay in the house if you want."
"Wait, he gets to stay in the house and I have to sleep in your crappy garage?"
"You don't have to sleep in there. I can toss you out any time I want."
Jared waved a hand in Jensen's direction, scowling. "Jensen, you can share my garage. I know you'd rather be in there anyway."
Jensen watched them arguing, feeling more amused than anything. Their arguments seemed so good-natured and not at all serious, and it made a refreshing change. Eventually, Jeffrey just put up his hands and backed away from them both.
"It's up to you, Jensen. I'll let you stay out here if you want. But you know you're always welcome if you want to use the spare room inside. If Jared's snoring gets too loud. If he starts being a grade-A dick to you. You just come on in and let me know."
Jensen laughed. "Thanks, Jeff. I will. I promise."
He left them both alone and Jared told Jensen to bring his shit inside so he could close up for the night. He dropped the holdall at one end of the couch as Jared pulled the door closed and dragged the deck-chair back against one wall. "Knew this'd happen," Jared said. "You just can't stay away, can you?"
"I'm not going to cause you any trouble again."
"Oh, you will. I know you will. But I'm good with trouble," Jared reminded him, grinning. The movement made his lip crack open and start bleeding again, but he didn't seem too bothered by it. He was otherwise clean. Jensen thought he must've showered when he'd got in and then had Jeffrey clean his wounds up. He looked better. Jensen wished he could do the same, but decided he could leave it until morning. He didn't feel like disturbing Jeffrey again tonight and, besides, he was suddenly feeling very weary. Jared had noticed, too, as he pointed upwards. "Bedtime, huh?"
"God, yes. Please."
Ten minutes later they were stretched out side by side in Jared's bed. Jensen in his boxers and a teeshirt, Jared in tight shorts that Jensen was trying desperately not to think about. He wasn't as tense as that first night, at least, but he knew it might take him a while to relax enough for sleep. Especially as Jared seemed to want to talk.
"So, you know earlier?"
"Yeah, I know. I'm a wimp. You'd think I'd be used to it with everything, but...I guess not."
"Still. Don't ever ditch me like that again. I mean it."
"I'd just got punched in the face! I'm sorry!"
"Yeah, and I was fighting off a room full of huge and nasty bikers. Let's play a game called who was worse off, huh? I win. End of."
"All right, I'm sorry. Jeez. If I could turn back time I'd have stayed and got my face kicked in alongside you. That what you want to hear?"
"Close enough." Jared was silent for a moment, then chuckled. "You need to stop rising to the bait so much. I don't hate you for it, all right? I'd rather you were safe and out of trouble than slowing me down. It was easier to fight when I knew I didn't have to watch out for you, too. Jeffrey would have kicked my ass harder than every guy in that bar put together if I'd let you get hurt. Please, though, for my sake and yours. Learn to fight for next time."
"What makes you so sure there'll even be a next time?"
"If you're going to stick around then I'm pretty damned sure there will be. But if you cheese it one more time, I will fucking rip you a new one."
Jensen rolled onto his side to stare at Jared. "What's that supposed to mean? If I stick around you'll be in another brawl? Man, you seem to get into them without my help."
"Nah, it's definitely you. They're all jealous I got such pretty company."
Jensen bit his lip and fell quiet, looking away. Pretty? Jared didn't really think that, right? That was just one of those stupid, throwaway comments that he kept making, the ones that made Jensen hope, stupidly, that maybe he felt something in return. He glanced over at him and wished he hadn't. Jared was watching him, as if waiting to hear what he was thinking about. He wasn't thinking about anything at all, as he leaned over quickly and kissed Jared square on the mouth. He pulled back after less than a second and turned away, feeling like he might throw up from nerves. He couldn't hear Jared breathing.
"What...what the fuck was that?"
Jensen licked his lips, shut his eyes. "Awkward? I'm going to say awkward. And good night."
"You just-"
"Just ignore me. Really."
"You kissed me!"
Jensen whispered to him to shut up, pulling the covers tighter over himself.
"Don't tell me to shut up when you just kissed me. Jensen-"
"Leave it. I'm sorry. Really."
To his surprise, Jared said nothing more. But he could feel his stare against the back of his head and wished in that moment that he had stayed at home instead. He was such a fucking idiot. He didn't think he would make it to sleep, but he heard Jared start snoring a short while later and, eventually, he too drifted off.
--TBC--