Smoke & Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder [17/?]
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (17/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG to Adults Only for the whole fic.
Wordcount: 3,309
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 SEVENTEEN
"Jeff!"
Shirtless and standing in the garage, Jared polished off the last of the beer in his bottle. His jeans rode low on his hips; something Jensen noticed as he continued to change up on the second level.
"Jeffrey!"
A second or two later, there was the sound of stomping footsteps nearing the door to the kitchen. Jeffrey grumbled as he ripped the door open. "What?"
Jared set a hand to his ribs and then belched loudly, tossing the beer bottle into a bin in the corner. "Where the hell were you?"
"I was cleaning," he almost snarled, clearly having lost his patience. "What do you want, that you couldn't have walked ten feet into the house to ask me?"
"Why are you cleaning?"
"Because tomorrow is Thanksgiving."
"Oh." Jared thought for a moment and glanced up at Jensen, who was still on the second level. Jensen smiled, looking just as puzzled, but didn't say anything. Jared, however, could tell something was up. "We're out of beer, dude."
Jeffrey sighed. "I'll alert the media," he said. "Go get more." He started to close the door, stopping short when Jared continued to speak.
"Can't," he told him. "Already drank."
Gritting his teeth to try and salvage what patience he had left, Jeffrey shook his head. "Then save yourself for tomorrow night," he said. "Because there's no beer at the table."
Jared looked horrified. Jensen chuckled at him as he finished dressing, pulling on one of Jared's old T-shirts. He'd found, when moving, that while he did have a couple pairs of jeans, he owned very few "bum shirts," as Jared called them. And Jared refused to let him wear his smart button-downs, so he regularly had to pilfer Jared's stash.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jared asked. "Such tyranny!"
Jeffrey rolled his eyes and told Jared to stop being so dramatic. "It's not like I'm asking you to give up forever. Just for one night."
Jensen could instantly tell that his mood had changed. He was returning to the same old Jeffrey, his anger vanished. He climbed down the ladder as the two men talked, moving into the kitchen instead of hanging out in the garage. Jensen followed them inside, opening the refrigerator and snagging a can of plain-label cola from inside.
"We're having wine with dinner tomorrow," Jeffrey explained.
"Wine?" Jared said, scoffing slightly. "What the fuck for?"
Jeffrey moved back to the dishwasher, trying to cram what other dishes he could into the baskets. "Because that's what civilized people do, Jared," he said.
"We've never had wine with dinner before."
"Well, maybe I want to make a fairly good impression considering I got your ass hanging around."
There it was. Jared and Jensen met each other's eyes for just a moment. "Who's coming to dinner?" Jensen asked.
Jeffrey shifted as they both stared at him, waiting. "I...A friend."
"What, like, Mitch from the yard kind of friend?" Jared asked, curious.
"More…female. Why the hell am I explaining this to you brats?"
Jensen laughed, not seeing that Jared seemed less than pleased. "Well, who is she? Are you going to tell us or just leave us in suspense?"
"You're a pair of nosey fucks, aren't you? Her name's Stevie."
"Nicks?" Jared asked, suddenly hopeful.
"No, not Nicks. Kilworth."
Jensen nearly spit his soda at them. He choked slightly and managed to keep back most of the deluge. A hand to his mouth, he made himself swallow hard as Jeffrey and Jared turned to look at him. "Kilworth? As in...Misses Kilworth that teaches English at my school?"
Jeffrey turned away from the both of them, pretending to fidget with something on one of the spokes in the dishwasher. This shouldn't be so difficult, he thought. I'm a grown man for crying out loud. "Yeah. She works at your school. That's where I met her. When I took you in last week."
"Last week?" Jared spluttered out. "You've known her less than a week and you've invited her to Thanksgiving?"
Jeffrey faced them again, a little annoyed at the tone Jared was taking with him. "She has nobody else to spend it with. And I really like her. You will too, Jay--"
"Why the hell should I? Thanksgiving's meant to be family, isn't it?"
"Oh, right?" Jeffrey took a step closer and Jensen tried to move away without being too obvious about it. He felt uncomfortable, on edge, more so when Jeffrey waved a hand in his direction. "And Jensen, is he going home to be with his family? No, I didn't think so. You just drop it, Jay. That's all this is, a home of broken families. But it's still my house and I invite into it whoever I damn well please." His voice softened again, and he placed a firm hand on Jared's shoulder. "Promise me you will give her a chance. I'm still..." He trailed off, sighing, and met Jared's eyes. "I don't want to mess this up. I think she's going to become pretty special to me and I want you to like her too. Jensen?"
"Yes, sir," Jensen answered, automatically.
Jared gritted his teeth, his gaze drifting from Jeffrey to Jensen. He looked at the younger of the two as if he had just been betrayed. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, heading back into the garage.
Jensen frowned and skirted around Jeffrey, mumbling something that the man couldn't make out. He watched Jensen run after Jared, heard the jangle of keys and then the sound of his old motorcycle revving up. Sighing, Jeffrey brushed his palm over his face, frustrated. That hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped it would.
"Where are we going?" Jensen asked.
Jared had had barely enough time to slip on his black leather jacket. He didn't even acknowledge Jensen's question at first. He did look at Jensen accusingly though, and for a moment, Jensen wished he hadn’t asked.
"We?" Jared repeated to him. "You seemed pretty cozy in there with Daddy-Oh. Why don't you just go back in there and kiss his ass a little more?"
"Jared," Jensen complained. "It wasn't like that."
Jared chuckled, sounding annoyed. "Yeah, well, you 'yes sir'd' him pretty damn fast."
"I was trying to calm both of you down!"
Narrowing his eyes, Jared nodded his head. "Yeah," he said, barely loud enough to hear over the rumbling of the bike. "You looked like it."
"Get off the bike."
"Why?"
"Because you're half-drunk," Jensen reminded him. "And you're too upset."
"Shut up, Jensen," Jared returned, almost whining at him. "Jesus Christ."
"Don't tell me to shut up," he snapped.
"Oh, now you get balls?" Jared laughed and shook his head. "You can let that skinny ass excuse for a bully kick your ass every day, but with me, you actually work up the courage to fight? Well, God damn."
Aligning his jaw in anger, Jensen reached out and snagged the keys from the ignition, fighting off Jared as he quickly palmed the keys. "Get off the bike," he said, thankful for the sudden silence.
Furious, Jared swung off the bike and moved towards Jensen. "Give me the keys," he snarled.
Jensen shook his head as he took one step back for each step Jared took towards him. "No."
"Give me," Jared continued, stepping towards him, "the goddamn keys."
Jensen bumped up against the edge of the work bench -- stuck. He had nowhere to run to, to hide. He would have been lying if he'd said that he wasn't absolutely terrified at that moment. But he wasn't going to back down. Jared and Jeffrey had both tried to teach him to be tougher than that. "Why are you being such a jerk?" he asked, his voice still much calmer than Jared's.
"I'm not being a j--"
"Yes, you are," Jensen interrupted. "So what if Jeffrey wants to have Misses Kilworth over? What do you care?"
Jared glared at him. To keep Jensen right there, and give him no other choice but to listen, Jared set one hand at either side of Jensen's body, caging him against the work bench. "What do you want to hear, Jen?" he asked, his voice low with fury. "How do you want me to start it? You want to hear about how my own father wanted nothing to do with me? You want to hear about how it took me almost a year to even let Jeff in? Or maybe about how after Mom died, I didn't have one goddamn soul in the world caring about me except him? You wanted to know me, right?"
Jared had managed to launch himself into a very scary demeanor and Jensen didn't like it. "Jared, stop," he said.
"What else do you want to know about? The robbed liquor store when I was seventeen? The stolen bike a year later? Maybe about the lame little shoplifting charge when I was twelve, how about that?"
Furrowing his brow, Jensen shook his head. "What are you doing?" he asked, his soft voice such a contrast to Jared's angry tone. He didn't understand how any of that related to the argument.
"Making my point," he snapped back. "Through all of that shit, Jeff never left. He was disappointed in me, sure. But he never left me. She walks into the picture, he's gone. I know it!"
"Why?"
Fury took over and Jared grabbed hold of Jensen's collar. He bounced him off of the wall just once for effect, hoping that that would get his point across more clearly. "Because she's not Mom," he shouted, inches from Jensen's face.
In the sudden silence, Jensen could do nothing, say nothing. If it had been Jared's mother that Jeffrey was still with, they would have been a family. Jeffrey had avoided any other relationships mostly because, when Jared was young, he didn't have the time or energy. As the boy grew, he simply found it difficult to think about women when all he could worry about was whether Jared was getting himself into trouble again. And now Stevie had entered the picture and Jared didn't like what he thought was a betrayal to his mother's memory.
Jensen just stared over at Jared, almost stunned. After several seconds, he shook his head. "He's not leaving you, Jared," he told him. He gazed into hazel green eyes, finding more fear there than Jared would ever admit to. "Maybe he's thought that now that you're grown up, maybe it's okay for him to let you go."
It took a few seconds to sink in. As soon as Jared realized what Jensen had said, he crumpled, bowing his back just enough to rest his head against Jensen's shoulder. The alcohol in his bloodstream was still strong, making him dizzy. He felt Jensen reach up to him with one hand, resting his long fingers at the back of Jared's neck.
"I'm so glad I'm fucking the chick that writes for Dear Abby."
Jensen smiled. He probably should have taken offense at such a comment, but he didn't. Somehow, he knew that was Jared's lame way of apologizing. He thought about teasing back, reminding Jared that he'd not fucked anything yet, but decided that maybe now was not the time. “Are you going to be okay?”
“No,” he said. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Raising his head, Jared spied down at Jensen for a moment. "I'm going to bed," he said.
It was far too early, but Jared looked exceptionally drained. Jensen watched him go, smiling as Jared shed his leather jacket down to the sofa upon passing it by. Moving away from the bench, Jensen dropped the bike keys into a utility drawer, and closed the garage door. He knew that, without a doubt, Jared would not awaken until morning. He decided that was for the best, and it left him free to help Jeffrey out.
* * *
"I look ridiculous."
"You do not," Jensen chuckled. "You look very dashing."
"James Bond looks dashing," Jared corrected, smoothing the awful black tie down over his stomach. "I look like a Goodfella wannabe."
Adjusting his own tie, Jensen eyed Jared. "Jeffrey said that we should look nice."
"Nice," he clarified. "Not ready to show up for some poor asshole's funeral."
"Jared." He sighed and reached out to force Jared to look at him. "Promise me you'll keep it on."
"Whatever."
"Promise."
"Fine, I promise."
Settled, Jensen headed for the ladder, leaving Jared to fume in solitary silence. Inside the house, Jeffrey was nervous, he could tell. He was dressed nicely, though without a tie. His sports coat was slung over the back of a chair, and the sleeves to his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows, exposing muscular forearms. He had oven mitts on his hands and was leaning into the stove to retrieve a couple of pies. Pumpkin and apple.
"Wow, you made pie?" Jensen asked, reaching for a bowl of Planter's mixed nuts that sat on the counter.
"I made the money to buy them," Jeffrey answered. He saw Jensen sneaking a snack and reached out to bat at his hands with the mitts. "You're going to spoil your dinner."
"No, I'm not," he said. "I'm starving. What times does Misses Kilworth show up?"
Jeffrey looked down at his watch as he set the oven mitts to the side. "Any minute--"
The doorbell rang.
"Now," Jeffrey finished.
Jensen noted a look of fear in Jeffrey's eyes. No, not fear. Worry. Jeffrey was actually worried that he wouldn't make a good impression. Jensen had the feeling that he'd already done so if Misses Kilworth was at the house. She didn't look the kind to easily give in to just anyone.
Jeffrey smoothed the dress shirt down over his belly and quickly brushed his sleeves down to his wrists. "Jen, check the turkey for me, would you, please?"
He nodded. "Sure." He did what was asked of him, remaining by the stove as he glanced over to spy on Jeffrey crossing the living room through the open door of the kitchen. Sure enough, Miss Kilworth, the English teacher at his school, stood there on the stoop, smiling up at the host. Jensen could hear Jeffrey mumble a hello to her as he pushed the turkey back into the oven. Just as he turned, he saw her stand up on her toes to give him a kiss. The embrace lasted longer than just a friendly gesture, and Jensen arched his eyebrows. Miss Kilworth seemed to be more than just a friend and yet, oddly, it fit.
"You look beautiful," Jeffrey told her. He took the bottle of wine she offered him and turned towards the kitchen. "You remember Jen?"
"Jensen," she smiled, reaching out to him. "Of course!"
He reached out too, ready to take her hand, but she bypassed the friendly handshake, in favor of a hug. He chuckled softly and patted her back as she embraced him. "Hi, Misses Kilworth."
Pulling back from him, she waved away the name. "Silly," she said. "You can call me Stevie."
His smile was forced for a moment as he thought about her request. "No, I really don't think I can," he returned.
"Jen is what we call 'anal,'" Jeffrey said, using his fingers to make quote marks in the air.
"I am not," he argued, smiling at Jeffrey. "I'm polite."
"There's a difference?"
"Leave him alone," Stevie interrupted playfully. "I like it. Chivalry is hard to come by these days. Alright, what can I do to help?"
"You don't have to do a thing," he returned.
"I know I don't have to. I want to." She looked around, eyes settling on the table. "Jensen, want to help me set the table?"
"No," Jeffrey argued.
"Sure," Jensen shrugged.
Jeffrey looked at him, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Traitor."
Laughing, Jensen patted Jeffrey's shoulder. "You're still the best host there is, Jeff."
After the table was set, the food laid out on the kitchen island and counters (there was no room on the table after Stevie got creative with the decorating), Jeffrey took off the oven mitts he'd put on again and turned towards the garage door. The television was blaring out there, so he yelled loudly to his boy. "Jared! Dinner!" He waited where he was until he heard the television click off. Satisfied, he moved to the table and sat down at the head, Stevie and Jensen adjacent to him, the other end of the table left open for Jared.
The garage door opened and closed, and Jared rounded the corner. "Je-sus Christ," he said aloud. "This place looks like a goddamn spread in Better Homes and Gardens."
Horrified, Jeffrey and Jensen stared at Jared. He had shed his tie and suit jacket, now wearing a Mötley Crüe shirt and ripped jeans. He carried a six-pack of beer with him, with one already missing. The cans clinked as he set them down in front of his place on the table and popped another one out. Jeffrey was pretty sure, by the way he was acting, that Jared had already drank a six-pack of the beer, and was already drunk when he got the call for dinner.
"Jared."
"Yo," he belched back, looking over at Jeffrey.
"Where did you get the beer?"
"Walked to the store," he answered. "Can we dig in or what?"
Annoyed, Jeffrey sighed, but decided to put his anger aside for now. "Jared, this is Stevie."
She reached out a hand, deciding that a hug probably wasn't going to fly with Jared.
Jared picked up his plate and stood from his place. "Charmed," he said with a sarcastic smirk, and moved to the kitchen island where the food was lain out.
Wide-eyed, Jensen looked over at Jeffrey and Stevie. He was just as stunned as they were, and a little remorseful. He should have seen this coming, the way Jared had been acting the previous day. Swallowing nervously, Jensen got up from his chair and followed Jared towards the food. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice just a whisper.
Jared plopped a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate, already stuffed with corn and turkey dressing. "Getting food," he said. "What does it look like?"
"What happened to the suit? You said you'd wear it. You promised."
"I didn't say for how long, though." He forked a number of slabs of turkey breast onto his plate, topped them off with cranberry sauce, a little gravy.
"That's not fair."
"Yeah, life's a bitch," he agreed, licking off his thumb and forefinger. "You done correcting me like a four year old?"
Before he could even answer, Jared turned away from him and headed back towards the table. Jensen was left stunned, staring after him. He watched Jared noisily drop the plate down on the table from too great a height, not caring that some of the food fell down to the white table cloth. He downed the last of his beer, belched, popped open another and started eating.
Jeffrey, Stevie, and Jensen finally got their own food. Dinner was not had in silence, as Jared had thought it would be. Stevie, animated and bubbly, talked through the meal, engaging all three men around her. Granted, she only got a grunt or a sharp word from Jared, but she attempted to include him. Her laugh was adorable and her eyes were soft and gentle. Jared tried not to think about that though.
Jeffrey, on the other hand, had nothing but daggers for Jared in his eyes. He ate, smiled at Stevie and Jensen, but glared at Jared.
Jared knew they would have a fight before the end of the night, but he didn't fucking care.
Bring it on.
--TBC--
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG to Adults Only for the whole fic.
Wordcount: 3,309
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 SEVENTEEN
"Jeff!"
Shirtless and standing in the garage, Jared polished off the last of the beer in his bottle. His jeans rode low on his hips; something Jensen noticed as he continued to change up on the second level.
"Jeffrey!"
A second or two later, there was the sound of stomping footsteps nearing the door to the kitchen. Jeffrey grumbled as he ripped the door open. "What?"
Jared set a hand to his ribs and then belched loudly, tossing the beer bottle into a bin in the corner. "Where the hell were you?"
"I was cleaning," he almost snarled, clearly having lost his patience. "What do you want, that you couldn't have walked ten feet into the house to ask me?"
"Why are you cleaning?"
"Because tomorrow is Thanksgiving."
"Oh." Jared thought for a moment and glanced up at Jensen, who was still on the second level. Jensen smiled, looking just as puzzled, but didn't say anything. Jared, however, could tell something was up. "We're out of beer, dude."
Jeffrey sighed. "I'll alert the media," he said. "Go get more." He started to close the door, stopping short when Jared continued to speak.
"Can't," he told him. "Already drank."
Gritting his teeth to try and salvage what patience he had left, Jeffrey shook his head. "Then save yourself for tomorrow night," he said. "Because there's no beer at the table."
Jared looked horrified. Jensen chuckled at him as he finished dressing, pulling on one of Jared's old T-shirts. He'd found, when moving, that while he did have a couple pairs of jeans, he owned very few "bum shirts," as Jared called them. And Jared refused to let him wear his smart button-downs, so he regularly had to pilfer Jared's stash.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jared asked. "Such tyranny!"
Jeffrey rolled his eyes and told Jared to stop being so dramatic. "It's not like I'm asking you to give up forever. Just for one night."
Jensen could instantly tell that his mood had changed. He was returning to the same old Jeffrey, his anger vanished. He climbed down the ladder as the two men talked, moving into the kitchen instead of hanging out in the garage. Jensen followed them inside, opening the refrigerator and snagging a can of plain-label cola from inside.
"We're having wine with dinner tomorrow," Jeffrey explained.
"Wine?" Jared said, scoffing slightly. "What the fuck for?"
Jeffrey moved back to the dishwasher, trying to cram what other dishes he could into the baskets. "Because that's what civilized people do, Jared," he said.
"We've never had wine with dinner before."
"Well, maybe I want to make a fairly good impression considering I got your ass hanging around."
There it was. Jared and Jensen met each other's eyes for just a moment. "Who's coming to dinner?" Jensen asked.
Jeffrey shifted as they both stared at him, waiting. "I...A friend."
"What, like, Mitch from the yard kind of friend?" Jared asked, curious.
"More…female. Why the hell am I explaining this to you brats?"
Jensen laughed, not seeing that Jared seemed less than pleased. "Well, who is she? Are you going to tell us or just leave us in suspense?"
"You're a pair of nosey fucks, aren't you? Her name's Stevie."
"Nicks?" Jared asked, suddenly hopeful.
"No, not Nicks. Kilworth."
Jensen nearly spit his soda at them. He choked slightly and managed to keep back most of the deluge. A hand to his mouth, he made himself swallow hard as Jeffrey and Jared turned to look at him. "Kilworth? As in...Misses Kilworth that teaches English at my school?"
Jeffrey turned away from the both of them, pretending to fidget with something on one of the spokes in the dishwasher. This shouldn't be so difficult, he thought. I'm a grown man for crying out loud. "Yeah. She works at your school. That's where I met her. When I took you in last week."
"Last week?" Jared spluttered out. "You've known her less than a week and you've invited her to Thanksgiving?"
Jeffrey faced them again, a little annoyed at the tone Jared was taking with him. "She has nobody else to spend it with. And I really like her. You will too, Jay--"
"Why the hell should I? Thanksgiving's meant to be family, isn't it?"
"Oh, right?" Jeffrey took a step closer and Jensen tried to move away without being too obvious about it. He felt uncomfortable, on edge, more so when Jeffrey waved a hand in his direction. "And Jensen, is he going home to be with his family? No, I didn't think so. You just drop it, Jay. That's all this is, a home of broken families. But it's still my house and I invite into it whoever I damn well please." His voice softened again, and he placed a firm hand on Jared's shoulder. "Promise me you will give her a chance. I'm still..." He trailed off, sighing, and met Jared's eyes. "I don't want to mess this up. I think she's going to become pretty special to me and I want you to like her too. Jensen?"
"Yes, sir," Jensen answered, automatically.
Jared gritted his teeth, his gaze drifting from Jeffrey to Jensen. He looked at the younger of the two as if he had just been betrayed. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, heading back into the garage.
Jensen frowned and skirted around Jeffrey, mumbling something that the man couldn't make out. He watched Jensen run after Jared, heard the jangle of keys and then the sound of his old motorcycle revving up. Sighing, Jeffrey brushed his palm over his face, frustrated. That hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped it would.
"Where are we going?" Jensen asked.
Jared had had barely enough time to slip on his black leather jacket. He didn't even acknowledge Jensen's question at first. He did look at Jensen accusingly though, and for a moment, Jensen wished he hadn’t asked.
"We?" Jared repeated to him. "You seemed pretty cozy in there with Daddy-Oh. Why don't you just go back in there and kiss his ass a little more?"
"Jared," Jensen complained. "It wasn't like that."
Jared chuckled, sounding annoyed. "Yeah, well, you 'yes sir'd' him pretty damn fast."
"I was trying to calm both of you down!"
Narrowing his eyes, Jared nodded his head. "Yeah," he said, barely loud enough to hear over the rumbling of the bike. "You looked like it."
"Get off the bike."
"Why?"
"Because you're half-drunk," Jensen reminded him. "And you're too upset."
"Shut up, Jensen," Jared returned, almost whining at him. "Jesus Christ."
"Don't tell me to shut up," he snapped.
"Oh, now you get balls?" Jared laughed and shook his head. "You can let that skinny ass excuse for a bully kick your ass every day, but with me, you actually work up the courage to fight? Well, God damn."
Aligning his jaw in anger, Jensen reached out and snagged the keys from the ignition, fighting off Jared as he quickly palmed the keys. "Get off the bike," he said, thankful for the sudden silence.
Furious, Jared swung off the bike and moved towards Jensen. "Give me the keys," he snarled.
Jensen shook his head as he took one step back for each step Jared took towards him. "No."
"Give me," Jared continued, stepping towards him, "the goddamn keys."
Jensen bumped up against the edge of the work bench -- stuck. He had nowhere to run to, to hide. He would have been lying if he'd said that he wasn't absolutely terrified at that moment. But he wasn't going to back down. Jared and Jeffrey had both tried to teach him to be tougher than that. "Why are you being such a jerk?" he asked, his voice still much calmer than Jared's.
"I'm not being a j--"
"Yes, you are," Jensen interrupted. "So what if Jeffrey wants to have Misses Kilworth over? What do you care?"
Jared glared at him. To keep Jensen right there, and give him no other choice but to listen, Jared set one hand at either side of Jensen's body, caging him against the work bench. "What do you want to hear, Jen?" he asked, his voice low with fury. "How do you want me to start it? You want to hear about how my own father wanted nothing to do with me? You want to hear about how it took me almost a year to even let Jeff in? Or maybe about how after Mom died, I didn't have one goddamn soul in the world caring about me except him? You wanted to know me, right?"
Jared had managed to launch himself into a very scary demeanor and Jensen didn't like it. "Jared, stop," he said.
"What else do you want to know about? The robbed liquor store when I was seventeen? The stolen bike a year later? Maybe about the lame little shoplifting charge when I was twelve, how about that?"
Furrowing his brow, Jensen shook his head. "What are you doing?" he asked, his soft voice such a contrast to Jared's angry tone. He didn't understand how any of that related to the argument.
"Making my point," he snapped back. "Through all of that shit, Jeff never left. He was disappointed in me, sure. But he never left me. She walks into the picture, he's gone. I know it!"
"Why?"
Fury took over and Jared grabbed hold of Jensen's collar. He bounced him off of the wall just once for effect, hoping that that would get his point across more clearly. "Because she's not Mom," he shouted, inches from Jensen's face.
In the sudden silence, Jensen could do nothing, say nothing. If it had been Jared's mother that Jeffrey was still with, they would have been a family. Jeffrey had avoided any other relationships mostly because, when Jared was young, he didn't have the time or energy. As the boy grew, he simply found it difficult to think about women when all he could worry about was whether Jared was getting himself into trouble again. And now Stevie had entered the picture and Jared didn't like what he thought was a betrayal to his mother's memory.
Jensen just stared over at Jared, almost stunned. After several seconds, he shook his head. "He's not leaving you, Jared," he told him. He gazed into hazel green eyes, finding more fear there than Jared would ever admit to. "Maybe he's thought that now that you're grown up, maybe it's okay for him to let you go."
It took a few seconds to sink in. As soon as Jared realized what Jensen had said, he crumpled, bowing his back just enough to rest his head against Jensen's shoulder. The alcohol in his bloodstream was still strong, making him dizzy. He felt Jensen reach up to him with one hand, resting his long fingers at the back of Jared's neck.
"I'm so glad I'm fucking the chick that writes for Dear Abby."
Jensen smiled. He probably should have taken offense at such a comment, but he didn't. Somehow, he knew that was Jared's lame way of apologizing. He thought about teasing back, reminding Jared that he'd not fucked anything yet, but decided that maybe now was not the time. “Are you going to be okay?”
“No,” he said. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Raising his head, Jared spied down at Jensen for a moment. "I'm going to bed," he said.
It was far too early, but Jared looked exceptionally drained. Jensen watched him go, smiling as Jared shed his leather jacket down to the sofa upon passing it by. Moving away from the bench, Jensen dropped the bike keys into a utility drawer, and closed the garage door. He knew that, without a doubt, Jared would not awaken until morning. He decided that was for the best, and it left him free to help Jeffrey out.
* * *
"I look ridiculous."
"You do not," Jensen chuckled. "You look very dashing."
"James Bond looks dashing," Jared corrected, smoothing the awful black tie down over his stomach. "I look like a Goodfella wannabe."
Adjusting his own tie, Jensen eyed Jared. "Jeffrey said that we should look nice."
"Nice," he clarified. "Not ready to show up for some poor asshole's funeral."
"Jared." He sighed and reached out to force Jared to look at him. "Promise me you'll keep it on."
"Whatever."
"Promise."
"Fine, I promise."
Settled, Jensen headed for the ladder, leaving Jared to fume in solitary silence. Inside the house, Jeffrey was nervous, he could tell. He was dressed nicely, though without a tie. His sports coat was slung over the back of a chair, and the sleeves to his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows, exposing muscular forearms. He had oven mitts on his hands and was leaning into the stove to retrieve a couple of pies. Pumpkin and apple.
"Wow, you made pie?" Jensen asked, reaching for a bowl of Planter's mixed nuts that sat on the counter.
"I made the money to buy them," Jeffrey answered. He saw Jensen sneaking a snack and reached out to bat at his hands with the mitts. "You're going to spoil your dinner."
"No, I'm not," he said. "I'm starving. What times does Misses Kilworth show up?"
Jeffrey looked down at his watch as he set the oven mitts to the side. "Any minute--"
The doorbell rang.
"Now," Jeffrey finished.
Jensen noted a look of fear in Jeffrey's eyes. No, not fear. Worry. Jeffrey was actually worried that he wouldn't make a good impression. Jensen had the feeling that he'd already done so if Misses Kilworth was at the house. She didn't look the kind to easily give in to just anyone.
Jeffrey smoothed the dress shirt down over his belly and quickly brushed his sleeves down to his wrists. "Jen, check the turkey for me, would you, please?"
He nodded. "Sure." He did what was asked of him, remaining by the stove as he glanced over to spy on Jeffrey crossing the living room through the open door of the kitchen. Sure enough, Miss Kilworth, the English teacher at his school, stood there on the stoop, smiling up at the host. Jensen could hear Jeffrey mumble a hello to her as he pushed the turkey back into the oven. Just as he turned, he saw her stand up on her toes to give him a kiss. The embrace lasted longer than just a friendly gesture, and Jensen arched his eyebrows. Miss Kilworth seemed to be more than just a friend and yet, oddly, it fit.
"You look beautiful," Jeffrey told her. He took the bottle of wine she offered him and turned towards the kitchen. "You remember Jen?"
"Jensen," she smiled, reaching out to him. "Of course!"
He reached out too, ready to take her hand, but she bypassed the friendly handshake, in favor of a hug. He chuckled softly and patted her back as she embraced him. "Hi, Misses Kilworth."
Pulling back from him, she waved away the name. "Silly," she said. "You can call me Stevie."
His smile was forced for a moment as he thought about her request. "No, I really don't think I can," he returned.
"Jen is what we call 'anal,'" Jeffrey said, using his fingers to make quote marks in the air.
"I am not," he argued, smiling at Jeffrey. "I'm polite."
"There's a difference?"
"Leave him alone," Stevie interrupted playfully. "I like it. Chivalry is hard to come by these days. Alright, what can I do to help?"
"You don't have to do a thing," he returned.
"I know I don't have to. I want to." She looked around, eyes settling on the table. "Jensen, want to help me set the table?"
"No," Jeffrey argued.
"Sure," Jensen shrugged.
Jeffrey looked at him, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Traitor."
Laughing, Jensen patted Jeffrey's shoulder. "You're still the best host there is, Jeff."
After the table was set, the food laid out on the kitchen island and counters (there was no room on the table after Stevie got creative with the decorating), Jeffrey took off the oven mitts he'd put on again and turned towards the garage door. The television was blaring out there, so he yelled loudly to his boy. "Jared! Dinner!" He waited where he was until he heard the television click off. Satisfied, he moved to the table and sat down at the head, Stevie and Jensen adjacent to him, the other end of the table left open for Jared.
The garage door opened and closed, and Jared rounded the corner. "Je-sus Christ," he said aloud. "This place looks like a goddamn spread in Better Homes and Gardens."
Horrified, Jeffrey and Jensen stared at Jared. He had shed his tie and suit jacket, now wearing a Mötley Crüe shirt and ripped jeans. He carried a six-pack of beer with him, with one already missing. The cans clinked as he set them down in front of his place on the table and popped another one out. Jeffrey was pretty sure, by the way he was acting, that Jared had already drank a six-pack of the beer, and was already drunk when he got the call for dinner.
"Jared."
"Yo," he belched back, looking over at Jeffrey.
"Where did you get the beer?"
"Walked to the store," he answered. "Can we dig in or what?"
Annoyed, Jeffrey sighed, but decided to put his anger aside for now. "Jared, this is Stevie."
She reached out a hand, deciding that a hug probably wasn't going to fly with Jared.
Jared picked up his plate and stood from his place. "Charmed," he said with a sarcastic smirk, and moved to the kitchen island where the food was lain out.
Wide-eyed, Jensen looked over at Jeffrey and Stevie. He was just as stunned as they were, and a little remorseful. He should have seen this coming, the way Jared had been acting the previous day. Swallowing nervously, Jensen got up from his chair and followed Jared towards the food. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice just a whisper.
Jared plopped a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate, already stuffed with corn and turkey dressing. "Getting food," he said. "What does it look like?"
"What happened to the suit? You said you'd wear it. You promised."
"I didn't say for how long, though." He forked a number of slabs of turkey breast onto his plate, topped them off with cranberry sauce, a little gravy.
"That's not fair."
"Yeah, life's a bitch," he agreed, licking off his thumb and forefinger. "You done correcting me like a four year old?"
Before he could even answer, Jared turned away from him and headed back towards the table. Jensen was left stunned, staring after him. He watched Jared noisily drop the plate down on the table from too great a height, not caring that some of the food fell down to the white table cloth. He downed the last of his beer, belched, popped open another and started eating.
Jeffrey, Stevie, and Jensen finally got their own food. Dinner was not had in silence, as Jared had thought it would be. Stevie, animated and bubbly, talked through the meal, engaging all three men around her. Granted, she only got a grunt or a sharp word from Jared, but she attempted to include him. Her laugh was adorable and her eyes were soft and gentle. Jared tried not to think about that though.
Jeffrey, on the other hand, had nothing but daggers for Jared in his eyes. He ate, smiled at Stevie and Jensen, but glared at Jared.
Jared knew they would have a fight before the end of the night, but he didn't fucking care.
Bring it on.
--TBC--