NC-17 | Finding Out the Ways of This World | J2 (5/8)
Master Post
Twenty-Nine
You can lose yourself in all this traveling around
If Jensen were ever honest with himself, he’d admit to hating his life and wanting it to be ten kinds of different.
Problem is: he lies to himself just as often as he does others. Has for the last decade.
Into the new year, he tells his parents he’s getting better jobs, says he’s doing stagework and small commercials, stuff they’d struggle discover on their own but find respectable. He tells Chris and Steve that he’s fine, even though it’s obvious he’s not when he sulks and rolls his eyes on every occasion of them asking him when he’ll get back into acting. And he tells Jared nothing new, just shares tiny tidbits via text and random voicemails when they continue to miss making contact.
He reasons that he’s not exactly lying to Jared, but he omits more than he shares, and that’s enough for him to feel guilty about the whole matter.
*
“You could just start working again,” Danneel says before shoveling a forkful of salad into her mouth.
He stares at her, completely ignoring his sandwich. “I am working.”
She stares right back. “You know what I mean.”
Pushing his plate forward, he rolls his eyes and looks off to the side where tourists roam the sidewalk and inspect every table for a celebrity. He gives one family, a set of parents and a few young girls who he figures would watch Disney, a small smile. They wander right by, and he scowls.
“You are miserable. I don’t know why you don’t change something.”
He looks at her again, wanting to smart off, but he knows she means it with the best intentions. She’s the only friend he has who does, he’s sure of it. “Like I wasn’t miserable before?”
“You were less miserable.” She chews more salad and rests her chin on her hand, fork tight in her fingers. Then she points the utensil at him. “I know the last show is still sour in your mouth, but you have to move forward.”
“I have shit luck. What’s the point?”
“The point is you’re good and you’re wasting your time doing nothing.”
She’s not looking at him when she says it, which makes it easier to accept. He still snorts at her. “If I was so good, how come I’m not off filming some runaway hit?”
“What? Now we’re jealous of Jared?”
“I don’t know,” he shoots back. “Are you?”
Danneel gives him a look then dishes back, “It’s because you’re sitting here being a crabass and temping in stuffy offices.”
“You know, you could be a little more supportive.”
“You could stop being bitter. It doesn’t help anyone.”
*
He calls Shelly, tucks his tail between his legs, and asks for new auditions.
She gives him a few leads, which he follows, even when he knows they won’t really go anywhere. At least he’s back out there, stands in front of people, feels the anxiety of auditioning and trying and hoping.
It doesn’t help his self esteem or his overall attitude, but Danneel’s a little nicer to him and Steve helps him with lines. He considers it an improvement.
*
Jared still calls on occasion, though usually as a follow up to Jensen’s texts, checking in and seeing how things are going.
Once or twice, he catches Jared after he’s gone around most of Vancouver with coworkers, drinking enough that he’s loose and lazy in the conversation. It goes on forever, seems like, and Jensen can’t help the excitement at having Jared’s attention for so long.
The next morning, he’s a bit sleep-deprived from staying up on the phone, but he’s jumpy and smiling.
Danneel meets him for breakfast, and when she finally breaks it down and bursts his balloon, he scowls.
“You’re not even dating,” she points out gently.
“Sure we are,” he lies, to her, to himself. He knows it’s not actual dating, but he’d like to think that since neither is seeing someone else, it’s like they’re together.
“You messed around with him a few times and he lives in another country.”
“Temporarily,” he grumbles.
She covers his hand and squeezes, goes softer with her approach. “You haven’t seen him in four months.”
“Three,” he argues. Then relents: “Three and a half.”
“You haven’t seen his face in a long while and you play phone tag. It’s not dating.”
He’s bitter and can’t contain it. And he’s now pissed at her, no matter how much he knows it’s true. He stands up, tossing a twenty to the table and gives a shitty smile. “Thanks for that. Now I’m gonna go blow my audition because you’re a total buzz kill.”
She tries to keep him at the table, but he leaves.
Three days later, he gets the call. He sends her flowers in thanks for tanking his mood at that breakfast. His inward disposition and gruff manners actually turn him into one hell of a troubled man named Tom Hanniger.
*
After he orders Danneel’s flowers, he texts Jared: Got a movie!
Jared replies an hour or so later: Was just gonna tell you I did, too! The Friday the 13th remake.
Jensen stalls and stares at the words. He’d heard about that, how the studios were pushing on a reboot. While he can’t figure the movie will be much more than a typical slasher flick, he knows it’s bigger than his cult redux.
*
My Bloody Valentine films in Pennsylvania, which is perfect for the mining town setting, but lacking in anything else.
He spends most nights in his hotel room. That is until his cast mates start dragging him out to drink and fill up on food he normally couldn’t afford.
There’s some money in the bank, so he spends what’s there, not used to this feeling. It’s been a year since he could say yes to splurging, since Disney. He thinks about how different this is: a G-rated, awkward teacher into a troubled horror film star.
It’s a strange transition, but he accepts it. Happily deposits the check.
*
Between his filming and Jared’s, they lose touch.
It happens so easily that Jensen’s convinced Jared doesn’t want to keep up with him. He files that away as a lost cause and heads back to L.A. with the knowledge that his resume just got a little better and his wallet a little fatter. He even gets his own apartment; it’s a tiny one bedroom, but is less grimy and faces fewer liquor stores.
It’s one of the better feelings he’s had in a long while. It helps distract him from everything else that’s still broken.
*
He and Danneel sneak into a VIP party; she gets them into the club with her looks and by flirting with the bouncer, and he nearly seduces one of the waitresses to get them upstairs and into the roped off section.
They grin with their success and drink whatever’s offered at the tables, playing cool and acting like they belong.
Far beyond buzzed, they start dancing among the crowd, and it carries on that way for the rest of the night.
A while later, his fingers fumble, typing What’ve you been up? to Jared, not even caring that he’s likely far beyond the proper age to drunk text.
Just a few minutes pass and Jared texts back that he’s in town, asks where Jensen is.
The bars are closing and it’s unlikely they can find some place in the middle, and Jensen thrills with the ability to proudly ask Jared over to his new place.
*
Danneel tsks at him, but she’s drunk enough that all she argues for is to share a cab home. He sees the judgment in her eyes and hears it in the tone that mumbles, “Six months, Jensen,” just before the taxi stops in front of her building. “You haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Yeah, but he’s coming to see me,” he argues back.
“Drunk and after hours. It’s not real.”
He hates the sympathy in her voice, hates himself for knowing she’s right. But he’ll take Jared however he can get him.
*
Jared’s leaning against the doorjamb when Jensen lets him in. They smile together, almost shyly, and then Jared slides forward and kisses him.
He’s off balance, messy and sweaty in the California heat. But Jensen clutches his neck, fingers slipping into the hair, pulling him further inside.
They don’t pause for anything, moving right onto the bedroom, undressing each other, falling onto the bed with little grace. They’re drunk enough that there’s little in the means of foreplay or preparation, and Jared pushes into Jensen, all but forcing himself in. Jensen winces, but pulls Jared closer, kissing along his jaw and ear, coaxing him to continue.
It doesn’t last long, both anxious to go fast and rough. Jared moves quickly, pants through it all, pushes his face into Jensen’s neck as he fucks him. Jensen scrambles to hold onto Jared, back and sides slicked up with sweat and heat, but he doesn’t stop trying to touch.
Jared comes with a long groan, pumps his hips through it, and moves back. Jensen’s legs wrap around his hips and bring Jared back. It’s a playful tug of war until Jared’s strength wins out and he pulls out of Jensen, discards the condom. He stretches out next to Jensen and teasingly strokes his hard dick.
Jensen’s feet push into the mattress, his hips lift up, and he joins Jared’s hand to get him off. It doesn’t take long, especially when Jared stars mouthing along Jensen’s neck, licking and sucking just under his ear, setting Jensen’s senses off.
Just after cleaning up, Jared rolls to his side, wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist, and falls asleep with a smile.
Unlucky, Jensen stares at the ceiling for a bit, trying to not focus on Jared’s even breathing or the soft touch of fingers across his stomach. He tries even harder to ignore the way his heart pounds at the feeling.
*
With Jared knocked out in the early morning, Jensen goes outside to smoke. It’s the classic California style apartment building, just one long walkway on the second floor that leads to every apartment. He has no segment to himself, but he appreciates the open space. He stands out here more often than he’d care to admit, thinks about his life all too much.
He does it right now. Leaning against the railing and looking down on the courtyard, he falls into the deepest part of his brain. The one that loves knowing Jared’s in his bed, that Jared came to see him last night, that after a year and hardly seeing or talking to each other, Jared’s still interested. Jensen bypasses the part that echoes Danneel’s words, the one that recognizes nothing good will come from this situation.
Jared’s success has made him busier than before, and when he’s not filming, he’s off with other people or back home in Texas with family and friends. And Jensen’s striving for his own success, which will only make seeing each other even harder. He knows it, but continues to tell himself that things could change.
He decides for the moment, he’ll take what he can get, because it’s better than before, better than nothing. Much like he figures on his career. My Bloody Valentine isn’t Oscar-worthy, and it’ll likely do little more than give him something to put on his reel, but it’s a paycheck. He takes it for what it is: a chance.
*
Back in bed, he touches Jared’s chest, fingers smoothing a path down. He wraps his hand around Jared’s dick and strokes lightly. Jared groans and shifts. But when his eyes open, he gives a small frown and slides enough away that Jensen loses the hold.
“Too tired,” he mumbles.
Jensen curses himself, completely solid in the knowledge of what he’s known since he got the text from Jared. It’s just sex and they were drunk.
*
Jensen goes back outside, again leans on the railing and smokes. He stews and berates himself, instantly wishes he’d gone to Jared’s so he could leave; he doesn’t have the nerve to wake Jared and kick him out, no matter how pissed he is in this moment.
The door squeaks open and Jared slips outside. He’s wearing only jeans and a v-neck, barefoot and carefully stepping on the warm cement. “Morning,” he says through a yawn, settling beside Jensen and knocking shoulders.
“Hey, surprised you’re up,” Jensen replies as level as possible.
“Someone kept getting up. Can’t exactly sleep like that.”
He nearly frowns at Jared’s crooked smile, motions with his fingers and the cigarette.
Jared tucks his hands around the railing and looks down on his feet. It’s adorable to see him so tall and built since the last time they’d seen each other while looking reserved, almost shy. He taps his foot at the railing a bit then runs it right by Jensen’s own bare foot. “How’s everything going? Must be good if you got a new place.”
Jensen watches their feet together and smirks, chuckles when Jared looks at him with a confused smile. “Everything’s good,” he says easily, believing it for a second. “I had that movie,” he drags out.
“Oh my God,” Jared sighs, looking away for a quick second. When he turns back, he’s smiling and shaking his head. “I totally forgot. How was it? Did you like it? I don’t remember, was it your first?”
He chuckles with the questions. “I had some tiny role before, but this was … well, better. It was cool. I think it’ll do fine. Nothing big like a Jason movie,” he says, trying like hell to not have an attitude.
Jared just kicks at the railing and snorts. “Whatever, man. Horror flicks come and go.” He nearly cringes then puts a hand at Jensen’s shoulder. “But yours, I bet yours is gonna be awesome.”
“Thanks for the confidence,” he says as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s really just a paycheck for me.”
“Whichever … it’s good. I’m happy for you.”
Jensen smiles because Jared does, and then the hand on his shoulder trails over to his back and rubs with care. Jensen tries harder than anything to not warm to it, but he can’t help it; it feels too good and comfortable. He leans into the touch and flicks his abandoned, burnt out cigarette to the ground below. “Want some coffee?”
Jared smiles more. “Yeah, sounds good.”
*
They spend the rest of the morning each in a corner of Jensen’s couch. Jensen rests his feet on the coffee table and Jared’s feet push into his thighs because they barely fit together. The coffee’s forgotten on the table and they’re hardly talking, just flipping through magazines and commenting on random articles, making relaxed conversation.
Jensen can’t complain; Jared’s not running off; he’s hanging out, quiet and easy.
They only move for the bathroom or water, re-hydrating from all the drinking the night before. Jensen feels like a mess and knows Jared looks like one, but there’s still something stirring within when Jared comes back from the kitchen, leans over, and smiles before going all the way in to kiss. It’s short, but nice, and Jensen lightly hums with it.
Jared chuckles as he pulls back then frowns. “I have to go.”
“Oh, alright, yeah,” Jensen mumbles as he sits up. He tries to squash the disappointment; once he gets Jared in a normal, sober, comfortable situation, it has to end.
They walk to the door together, pausing for a moment to kiss goodbye then Jared smiles on his way out. Jensen wants to call out so many questions: how long are you in town, when will I see you again, do you want to go out this weekend, what’s even happening here?
But he just waves as Jared ambles down the walkway and to his car.
*
Shelly sends him on more auditions than he can manage. She’s all pepped up, says word was good on the movie, there are more options now.
A good deal of him is excited and ramps up energy at every meeting, sure that he’ll get everything he looks at. But there’s still that part of him that’s waiting for the shoe to drop.
Neither happens. He ambles on without any major offers, turns down a few he can’t help but laugh over, and goes back to bartending.
He’s at least grateful he lives in a healthier neighborhood now; the bars, clientele, and tips are better. It’s enough to get by.
The few times he texts or calls Jared, he doesn’t get a reply. He tells himself the guy’s busy, starting up promotions for his own movie, heading back to Vancouver for the show. He halfheartedly convinces himself of it.
*
The only promising script he reads is filming right when he has to promote My Bloody Valentine. It’s not a major promotional episode: a few small talk shows and events. But it’s enough that he’ll either piss of the Valentine producers for taking the offer or he’ll miss out on a chance to do something he wants: actual, bonafide dramatic acting.
Shelly pushes him into promotions with a gruff, “You’re lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth. You get paid for these appearances.”
He sighs, rubs his eyes. “I’d get paid for another role, too.”
“Don’t piss off the machine. Trust me.”
Every cell tells him to do it, run forward, grab another opportunity. But he relents to the pressure and follows through on responsibility.
*
At the premiere, he sees Jared on the other side of the walkway and flushes all over. Cameras make him blind, and he can barely manage a reaction to the guy who’s all smiles for reporters and tugging on the hand of a tiny brunette at his side.
It’s been months since he’s seen Jared, weeks since they touched base. He knows he really should not be surprised that there’s something else going on, that Jared isn’t alone.
Jensen prays and hopes that he doesn’t run into Jared, clueless as to how he’ll react. Through the screening, every possible situation plays itself out and he’s jumpy and unable to calm down.
He leaves his own movie.
*
Danneel meets him at a bar by his place and they drink beyond repair.
He’s grumbling about Jared, she’s politely dishing out ‘told ya so,’ and he’s not so graciously scowling at her.
“You ditched your own party, Jensen.”
She looks sorry for him, and he hates that even more. “It was a stupid party anyway. Even stupider movie.”
“Yeah, but it was yours,” Danneel points out, hand rubbing over his. “Ten years and you finally get a movie -”
“Eleven,” he mutters into his glass.”
“Eleven years. And then you leave it. I don’t know what’s worse. That, or you running off with the idea you and Jared are together.”
“You’re not helping,” Jensen shoots back at her, anger fueled and misdirected thanks to the alcohol. “I called you to commiserate and to get wasted with me. You’re doing neither.”
“Okay, okay,” she relents with a small, comforting smile. “I’ll commiserate. But can I just say one thing?”
“No.”
“You’re such a sucker when it comes to Jared. You’re more miserable over him than you ever were over work.”
“Shut up,” he says and knocks his drink back in a long gulp.
To her credit, Danneel is controlled and uses the softest voice possible to break Jensen down. He still ignores her for the most part. But he’s shocked open when she says, “But look at the facts. It’s just been a couple hook-ups. You’re not doing anything else together.”
“No, no, no,” he insists. “Last time, he stayed in the morning and we hung out and just talked and read God damn magazines together. It was more than just fucking around.”
Danneel frowns with warmth in her eyes, murmuring a soft, “Oh, honey.”
He’s gone from the table and out the door, even with her following and calling his name. Her look says more than he can handle; she knows he’s gone for Jared.
It’s a warm night, but the breeze feels good considering how quickly they’d taken all the drinks. And considering how angry he is, the walk home feels good.
She’s speeding up and walking along with him, heels clacking on the sidewalk the only sound between them.
He speeds up. “Fuck off.”
“Jensen, come on.”
“Go home,” he yells at her.
There are no words, but she slips her hand around his arm, holds on as he eases up and walks at a more regular pace.
Danneel hangs onto his arm, resting her head at his shoulder as they head to his apartment in silence.
He grabs at the hand wrapped around his arm and squeezes it in apology.
*
They drink more at his place. He ignores her insistence that he’s in love with Jared, that he needs to find a healthy relationship, needs to stop giving out more than he’s getting.
But he finds it’s hard to deny when he perks up at Jared’s text: Missed the star of the show tonight. Out partying now?
She leaps over the coffee table, going from the arm chair to the couch in seconds, and grabs his phone.
“No, c’mon, give it back,” he whines.
“No way, no how. You can’t text in your state.”
Jensen rolls his eyes, then stops all thought as the room spins. “I was just gonna say we weren’t out.”
“No, you’re not replying to him. You’re not telling him to come over.”
“I promise I won’t do that. I’ll tell him to fuck off.”
She frowns. “You being bitter with him helps no one.”
“Oh, shut up,” he growls, sinking further into the cushions.
“I’m trying to help, Jensen. This is so unhealthy it’s making me sick.”
Jensen frowns, trying so hard to ignore her good intentions, but he can’t.
*
Danneel is passed out an hour later. He snatches the phone back from where she’d stuffed it into the chair cushions where she sleeps.
He’s weaving on the way to the bedroom, but still taps out a reply to Jared: Don’t think you missed anything. Then he drags off enough clothes to sleep in a shirt and boxers, falls onto the bed, and clutches the phone.
It buzzes on his chest. What do you mean?
There’s a fire growing instantly and he angrily chuckles to himself. Had your own company eh?
Then he stops. He stares at the screen and starts to worry because this is exactly what Danneel said. Bitter and angry and unforgiving. It can’t go anywhere good from here.
Long story, let me explain?
Jensen huffs and clenches his eyes shut with the urge to throw his phone across the room. No matter how much he’s had to drink, everything seems so definite in this moment.
It’s not helping him in any way to hang onto Jared, to pray for the best story possible. He thinks of how far his stomach sunk at seeing Jared with another girl, how anxious he gets when he doesn’t hear from Jared for long stretches of time, how he can’t get his head wrapped around his own life without getting hostile over everyone else’s success, especially Jared’s.
He’s done, has to be, can’t do it anymore. He shuts off his phone and tosses it to the ground.
Part Six