Fic: Walk Right In. RPS. Jensen/Jared. NC-17. 1/2
Title: Walk Right In
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jared/Sandy
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 19.050 words
Summary:
Beep. “Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?” Click.
The smile slips from his face and he stands frozen, staring at the phone in his hand. After a moment he punches the buttons and replays the message, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
The voice is hoarse, the words slightly slurred. No trace of a smile, no hint of it being a joke. Is he…?
Licking his lips nervously, Jared snaps the phone shut. What’s going on?
Author's note: Another old one from the forgotten drawer. Beta'd by the lovely candygramme but I've fiddled with it since so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Title is from th song by Anna Ternheim. This work is also available on AO3.
Jared sighs and checks his watch again. Seriously, how long does it take one woman to pee? The movie’s about to start and Sandy’s been in there for hours. Well, at least ten minutes. Whatever. Too long anyway. Maybe the Mexican food is messing with her stomach or something. Or, you know, it might be ‘women’s trouble’, in which case, complaining once she gets out would not be a wise thing. Some mistakes you learn not to make twice.
The music of I’m so pretty from West Side Story suddenly vibrates in his pocket, making him jump and spill popcorn on the floor. Dammit. He looks around for some place to put down the big bucket of popcorn and two super-sized cups of Coke he’s balancing in his hands. No luck.
The music keeps playing and a couple of people glance his way, probably wondering why he has such a cheesy ringtone. It had been a joke, his way of getting back at Jensen for choosing I’m a Big Big Girl with Emilia as Jared’s personalized ring tone on his own phone. The joke has pretty much worn thin by now, but Jared hasn’t bothered changing it back. Besides, it still makes Jensen cringe and that’s always fun.
He’s considering asking someone to hold the drinks for him while he answers when Sandy suddenly comes sauntering out from the restrooms, looking pink and fresh and not stomach-achy (or thank God, crampy) at all.
“Here, take this,” he says and shoves the drinks at her. The second she relieves him of them the phone stops ringing. Figures. He flips it open anyway just as it dings to let him know he’s got a voicemail. Yep, Jensen.
“Come on, baby. The movie’s about to start,” Sandy says but he shakes his head and kisses her lightly on the cheek.
“You go in and get us seats. I’m just gonna hear what Jen wants.”
Not that it’s likely to be important. Jensen has this odd habit of calling him for no apparent reason. Messages left in the middle of the night asking if Jared has seen his car keys? “Oh, there they are, never mind.” Or telling him he’d just seen a giraffe on TV and thought of him. Or “Jare, dude. How many people your size can they fit into a Volkswagen? ‘Cause I’m watching Guinness World Records and they’ve got like twenty clowns stuffed in one. Weird.” Strange and totally random things that make no sense whatsoever.
Jared figures it’s Jensen’s weird sense of humor so he starts leaving his own odd messages on Jensen’s voicemail. “Hey, man. You left your brain in my fridge. The dogs licked it. You don’t mind, do you?” Or “I’m watching Dark Angel, man. So which one of you is the chick?” Or “Jenny, baby, I just had a dream you were making out with the Impala. Something you wanna tell me?” The more bizarre the more fun it is. Not that Jensen ever mentions them, no more than Jared mentions the messages Jensen leaves him. It’s like their own unspoken duel.
So when he hits #1 on speed dial for his voicemail and listens to the androgynous voice telling him he has “One new voice message” the grin is already in place while he tries to think of something crazy enough to retort with.
Beep. “Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?” Click.
The smile slips from his face and he stands frozen, staring at the phone in his hand. After a moment he punches the buttons and replays the message, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
The voice is hoarse, the words slightly slurred. No trace of a smile, no hint of it being a joke. Is he…?
Licking his lips nervously, Jared snaps the phone shut. What’s going on?
He contemplates calling Jensen back but the opening credits are already playing inside the theater, so he slips the phone into his pocket instead and goes searching for Sandy. Even if the lights have been turned off, he has no problem finding her. They always sit in the same place, top row, right above the stairs. Gives him enough legroom and they can make out if the movie proves boring.
He sits down and hands her the bucket of popcorn, accepting the Coke from her hand.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Just Jensen.”
She gives him an odd look and he realizes he used Jensen’s full name, something he usually only does in public because the nicknames make Jensen uncomfortable. The realization makes his chest tighten in guilt. The guy’s his best friend. What the hell is wrong with him?
He manages a smile and she smiles back, then runs her hand over his chest and up to his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
‘Well, fuck you, Jen. Now I do,’ he thinks, then kisses her harder, thrusting his tongue into her mouth until she pulls away gasping, dark eyes reflecting the images flickering across the silver screen. He smiles again and lets his hand slip down between her thighs, resting there as he turns his gaze on the movie.
Whatever that phone call was about it will have to wait. He’s not missing out on fanboying Johnny Depp in full-blown pirate gear just because Jensen is being weird.
--------------
Sandy’s fast asleep, her hair smelling of popcorn and sex, when Jared gently removes himself from her embrace and slips out of bed. She sighs softly and curls up on her side, her naked skin shimmering with sweat in the moonlight. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and fishes the phone out of the pocket of his jeans that lie in a heap on the floor, then slinks out, closing the door quietly behind him. He walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, staring blindly into it for a while, then jerks awake and fishes out a beer can, snapping it open and draining half in one go.
The phone feels heavy in his hand. Feels like so much more than a piece of metal and plastic. Feels like when he held the unread script to the season two finale in his hand, not knowing whether Sam would live or die. Like holding his whole future in his hand.
Maybe Jensen really had been joking. Maybe this is his idea of a prank, taking the gay subtext a little bit further. Only he didn’t sound like he was joking. In fact he sounded completely serious. And slightly desperate. And very, very drunk.
Jared gulps down the rest of the beer, feeling stupidly nervous and unsure.
Question is, should he pretend that it never happened just like he’s done with all the other odd messages Jensen’s left him - and suddenly he’s rethinking them from a completely different angle - or is this something he can’t ignore? Something they really need to talk about?
Fuck.
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and then pushes #3 on speed dial. He listens to it ring on the other end. No one picks up. Not surprising if Jensen really was as drunk as he sounded. Finally, it clicks over to “Can’t come to the phone right now. You know what to do.” Beep.
“Hey, Jen. I…” Jared falters, his cheeks blushing in the dark. Maybe he should have figured out what to say before he made the call. “Listen. I got your message and.... Call me, man.” He pauses. “We should talk.” He snaps the phone shut and draws in his breath. Ball’s in your court now, buddy.
Sunday goes by incredibly slowly. They take the dogs for a walk then spend some time doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen. Sandy says he lives like a pig and she’s right. The weekends she comes over are always partly spent doing housework because the mess bugs her. Every time she leaves, he vows he’ll have the place cleaned up the next time she comes over. So far he hasn’t been able to keep his word. He’s just not the domestic type, something he’ll have to work on.
When he sees her off at the airport on Sunday night, he feels guilty about being slightly relieved. It’s not that he wants her gone it’s just that with her here he hasn’t had time to sit down and really think this thing with Jensen over. Because it is a thing, he’s sure of that now. The fact that Jensen hasn’t called him back pretty much proves it. Something that is worrying Jared almost more than the actual message.
He drives by Jensen’s place on his way home, stopping for a few seconds outside, then driving on and home. What’s he going to say anyway? “Hey, Jen. So, you want me to kiss you, or what?” Stupid.
He spends the evening sitting on the couch, staring at the TV without really noticing what’s on, the cell phone heavy in his pocket. It stays silent.
He tries not to think about it. Tries so hard that it ends up being the only thing he can think about.
Jensen and kissing.
Something Jared’s seen plenty of, thanks to late nights and beer and so many Canadian girls apparently not knowing the meaning of the word shy. But he’s never experienced it firsthand, obviously. Never paid it any thought either, except maybe to wonder if those lips lived up to the girls’ expectations. They all do seem dazed enough after, but then again, they do that after only getting a smile.
Funny the way girls just flail around Jensen. It’s like there’s something about him that shortcuts their brains and they end up stammering and blushing and looking like they’re a wind-blow away from falling over. Really, he’s just a guy. A ridiculously good-looking guy, but a guy just the same. Jared certainly has never felt faint or lost for words whenever Jensen shoots him a grin. And he’s never fantasized about Jensen’s lips, no matter how girly they are.
Which makes it even more confusing that images of said lips refuse to leave Jared’s brain alone. And not just his lips. The whole pretty Jensen package keeps assaulting him however much he tries to fight it.
Jensen’s green eyes. His freckled skin. The way his forehead knots over his eyebrows when he frowns. The shadow of stubble on his cheeks. How the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed or drunk. And those lips that look so soft as they come closer, closer…
Jared blinks in shock and the image disappears. What the hell was that? What is he doing? Why is he…?
Jensen lowers his eyes, biting his lips nervously and then suddenly he looks up, pupils blown dark and open. A pink tongue slips out, licking the lower lip, and then his eyes are closing, slowly, as his lips part on a nervous intake of breath. Barely an inch away and…
Jared blinks again but his eyelids feel so heavy and he’s only human, ok? It’s not like he means to go there. He’s not really responsible for what his brain conjures up when he sleeps. Because Jared wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kinda guy. He’s not…
Jensen’s lips hover against Jared’s, so close he can feel their heat, but they’re still keeping a breath’s distance, like Jensen isn’t sure whether a kiss would be welcomed or not. He breathes into Jared’s mouth, air that tastes of coffee and uncertainty. Jared holds his own breath, afraid he’ll ruin this, whatever this is, if he so much as blinks an eye. Please, he thinks. Please, yes. I want you to. Jensen hitches his breath and then the distance is gone and he’s just there, warm and soft and pressing against Jared’s lips. With his fingers in Jared’s hair and his warm body pushing Jared deeper into the cushions. He parts his lips on a gasp and Jensen licks along them, his tongue hot to the point of feverish, and Jared can’t fight the moan rumbling in his chest. He puts a hand awkwardly on Jensen’s hip then slips his fingers under the waistband of his jeans, chasing the softness of skin where it disappears under the denim. Jensen shifts in his lap, rolling his hips in a way that has Jared gasping, dick hard and aching in his pants. Jensen laughs soft puffs of air into Jared’s mouth.
“Too many clothes,” Jared groans and just like that they’re gone. Jensen’s ass is round, each cheek fitting perfectly in the palms of Jared’s hands as he cups them, kneading his thumbs into the dimples at the bottom of Jensen’s spine. Jensen keeps kissing him, slow warm kisses of soft lips and wet tongues, with teeth nibbling and gasps turning into grunts as Jared shifts his hips, slip-sliding his cock against Jensen’s. “Fuck, Jen,” he groans into Jensen’s mouth and Jensen whispers back, “Wanted this. Wanted this for so long.”
Jared jerks awake, his hand still stuck in his pants, now wet and sticky with come. Ugh. The clock on the DVD player says two in the morning. He gets slowly to his feet and walks on shaky legs into the bathroom, stumbling out of his underwear and swiping pathetically at the mess with them. He should shower but he doesn’t, leaves it for the morning instead and shuffles into the bedroom. The sheets still smell of Sandy, but he swears he can taste Jensen on his tongue and the whole thing is so fucked up he can’t even think about it.
He sets the alarm for six o’clock before once again falling into dream-filled sleep where he and Jensen keep on kissing, hot and heavy, until Sandy crashes through the door with a chainsaw. He wakes up sweating, his dick twitching against a wet spot on the sheets, his heart hammering guilt into his chest.
What the hell is happening to him?
He keeps the shower cold and short, then throws on whatever lies on top on the neatly folded mountain of clean laundry Sandy left ready for him. Only to catch himself looking in the mirror, thinking, ‘Do I look good in this? Good enough that Jensen would want to kiss me?’ The answer is yes, and he quickly pulls the t-shirt off and replaces it with a pink one that Jensen hates.
Except it’s not so much that he hates it, more that he says it makes Jared look totally gay.
Damn.
Jared pulls it off again and throws it on the bed, panic starting to rise in his throat. Their driver will be here any minute and he will have to face Jensen and…
Why the hell didn’t he try harder to get a hold of Jensen yesterday, just to clear the air?
He finally settles for a green t-shirt and a grey zipped up hoodie. Nothing remotely sexy, in fact the green color is slightly nauseating. He kinda hates himself for letting this thing affect him so much. Especially since he’s not sure if it’s the thought of Jensen being gay or that he’s gay for Jared that’s so upsetting.
He’s never thought of himself as a bigot. Being in this business means meeting more gay people in one day than all his childhood years in Texas combined and he’s never thought any different of them. But this is Jensen. His Jensen. His best friend who’s slept on his couch and drunk his beer and beat him at Grand Theft Auto. Who he feels closer to than he can remember ever feeling to anyone before. Who apparently, maybe, possibly, fantasizes about Jared kissing him.
And, if last night’s dreams are anything to go by, Jared’s dick is perfectly ok with that. Which brings on a whole new and way more worrying level of ‘What the fuck?’
He jumps when his phone pings, almost dropping it as he fishes it out of his pocket. The car is here, waiting outside and the tension in Jared’s stomach magnifies by a hundred.
Damn, he’s making way too much out of this. Jensen was drunk and decided to pull a prank on him, that’s all. The guy’s an actor for Christ’s sake, he probably made his voice sound like that to deliberately mess with Jared’s head. Making him have stupid dreams about things he’d never even thought about and never would have if Jensen hadn’t forced them upon him with his stupid question.
Suddenly he feels pissed off, and he slams the door behind him, only feeling a tiny bit guilty for possibly waking up his neighbors at the ass crack of dawn. Clif greets him way too cheerily, and he plasters on a fake smile and asks Clif about his weekend like he always does. It isn’t until Clif’s halfway through a story about a karaoke bar and tequila that Jared realizes they’re driving in the wrong direction.
“Clif, hey!” he interrupts. “Forgetting someone?”
Clif glances at him in the mirror. “It’s just you today. I thought you knew.”
Jared stares at him. “What? Why?”
Clif shrugs. “I was told he’s sick.”
Jared blinks, mind going at a million miles per minute. Sick? Jensen never takes sick days. Hell, Kim once physically manhandled him into a car and ordered him home because he was running a fever of 102. And still he was back the next day, looking so much like shit the make-up girls didn’t know where to start. For him to call in sick he must be close to dying.
Worried Jared flips open his phone and dials Jensen’s number. It’s turned off, taking him straight to voicemail and he falters for a second, not knowing what to say with Clif two feet away, listening.
“Hey, it’s me,” he finally says, keeping his voice even but concerned. “Just checking in on you. You really sick, you pussy, or just too lazy to get your ass out of bed? Call me, ok? Jerk,” he adds as an afterthought, hoping Jensen gets it.
Clif eyes him in the mirror, and Jared shrugs before leaning back, closing his eyes. This is going to be a long day.
As it turns out it’s actually a short one. They do a few close-ups, and then he spends some time going over already shot scenes from last week with Kim, discussing different angles and how to better bring out the emotions Kim is looking for in that specific scene. Jared finds himself zoning out, watching Jensen more than he watches himself. Is that Dean looking tired or is it just Jen? Did he flinch because Dean should, or because Jensen couldn’t help it? Is the look in his eyes for Sam or Jared? Has Jensen always licked his lips so much, and Jared just never noticed?
“Hey, you with me?”
Jared jerks out of his musings to find Kim watching him, and he feels himself blush. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”
Kim holds his gaze a few seconds longer, but then he turns back to the small screen. “See right there? I think-“
“You know what’s wrong with Jensen?” Jared blurts out and Kim looks up again, frowning at him. “I mean, you know Jen. He wouldn’t call in sick even if he was missing half a lung, so it must be pretty serious, right? I was just wondering…”
Kim shrugs. “I don’t know. He talked to Eric, not me.”
“Oh.” Jared bites his lip. Maybe he should ask Eric.
“You could just call him,” Kim suggests. “If you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried. I just… And I’ve tried. He’s not answering.”
Kim sighs and stands up. “Look, we can do this any time. No use if your mind’s not in it anyway.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can…”
“Kid, get out of here. Go over there and check on him.”
“Ok. Yeah, alright. I’ll… Thanks.”
“No problem. But keep the hugging to the minimum. We can’t afford you getting sick as well.”
Jared laughs but it’s short and hollow. “Yeah, sure. I’ll try.”
He borrows one of the rentals and drives over to Jensen’s hotel, the whole way wondering what he’s doing. So the guy’s sick. Got nothing to do with that phone call. ‘Again, you’re making way too big a deal out of this, Jare,’ he thinks. Jensen’s gonna laugh his head off.
Except the Jensen that finally opens the door after Jared’s pounded on it for five minutes doesn’t look like he’s about to laugh at anything. He’s unshaven and red-eyed, skin grey and sweaty, and he fucking stinks. Like he hasn’t showered in a week.
“Jared,” he says, voice flat and tired, eyes alarmingly dull. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you, dude,” Jared says, staring at Jensen with concern. “Christ. You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jensen bites back with no real emotion and flips him the finger before walking back into the apartment, leaving the door open. After a short hesitation Jared follows him, closing the door quietly behind him.
The air inside the apartment is thick and stuffy, the smell of sweat and smoke making Jared’s eyes sting.
“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” Jensen mutters from the couch where he’s huddled under a blanket.
There are two ashtrays filled to the brim with stubbed out cigarettes on the table. At least five empty pizza boxes are littering the floor and when Jared rounds the corner of the couch he almost trips over a plastic bag filled with empties. As if Jensen had tried to tidy up when Jared rang the doorbell and then just given up.
“Hey, man. Mind if I crack a window?” Jared asks as he tries to work out what to say.
Jensen grunts and waves his hand, which Jared takes as permission, and he flings open the windows in the living room and then walks into the kitchen to open there as well so the air can breathe through. The sink is filled with dirty dishes and glasses and when Jared checks the fridge, he finds it pretty much empty.
Wary he walks back into the living room. Jensen is still refusing to look at him, his eyes fixated on the TV where half-naked girls are shaking their booties to some nineties rap song. Jared watches him for a minute, then takes the remote and turns the TV off before sitting down on the coffee table, forcing Jensen to face him.
“Hey, man. What’s going on?”
Jensen shrugs, eyes averted. “I’m sick. Flu or something.”
“Huh.” Jared studies him. “I’ll admit you’ve looked better. So what, you’re throwing up?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Jensen is still not looking at him and Jared’s starting to feel more than a little worried. He reaches out to lay a palm on Jensen’s forehead but Jensen jerks away, swatting at his hand. “What the hell are you doing?” he hisses, finally a hint of emotion in his voice.
“Trying to see if you’ve got a fever,” Jared answers patiently. “Be still.”
“You’re not my mom, Jare,” Jensen grumbles but he doesn’t object when Jared gives him a pointed look and reaches for him again. Jensen’s forehead is clammy but no warmer than it should be. If anything he feels slightly cool. Jared sits back and purses his lips. Jensen is obviously not in the mood to talk, and the foul air in the apartment is starting to give Jared a headache.
“C’mon,” he says and stands up, offering Jensen his hand. “Shower time. You’ll feel a whole lot better.”
Jensen gives him the evil eye but Jared just glares back, stubbornly holding out his hand, and after a while Jensen takes it and allows Jared to haul him to his feet. It brings them uncomfortably close, so close that Jared can feel Jensen’s hot breath brushing his Adam’s apple. It smells of alcohol and cigarettes, and the thought, ‘If we kissed right now he would taste really bad,’ suddenly pops into Jared’s head. He can feel himself blushing and takes a quick step back, covering his faltering by patting Jensen on the back and then shoving him gently in the direction of the bathroom.
“There you go. Wash away the stink. I’ll make some coffee.”
“I’m out,” Jensen mutters as he shuffles down the hall. “Don’t even have instant.”
“Well, hell. No wonder you’re so grumpy,” Jared says cheerfully as he makes a quick assessment of the apartment, wondering how much of the mess he’ll be able to clean up before Jensen’s out of the shower. For usually being an anal neat freak, Jensen has made a surprisingly good job of turning his place into a pigsty. That more than anything tells the tale of how bad of a shape he’s in.
“Take your time, man,” Jared shouts in the direction of the bathroom as he starts stacking the pizza boxes. “Don’t want you out of there until you smell of spring and meadows again.”
He thinks he hears Jensen snort but in the state he’s in it might just as well have been a badly disguised burp.
“And brush your teeth!” he adds without thinking. Shit. “I mean… Never mind.”
The sound of water being turned on reaches him, and he breathes out. Maybe Jensen didn’t even hear him. After all he’d been far away, on the other side of a door, getting undressed…
The water is running.
Jared goes still.
Water. Soap. Jensen. Wet. Skin. Jensen. Wet Jensen. Wet naked Jensen.
His dick twitches.
He laughs nervously to himself. Oh, for Christ’s sake! Stop it! One drunken phone call, and he’s going all gay? And not only gay, a damn pervert too. Having wet dreams about Jensen kissing him and obsessing over Jensen naked. Next thing he’ll be imagining Jensen sucking cock every time he puts something in his mouth. Which is… God.
Jared groans. What the hell is wrong with him?
Angry he grabs the full bag of empties and carries it out to the trash along with the pizza boxes. Then he empties the ashtrays and washes them in the sink. He hates the smell of wet cigarette ash but at least the trays are empty and clean now. And hopefully Jensen’s run out of cigarettes as well.
Jared starts on the dishes, scraping off pieces of dried-out food and mold before dumping them back in the sink, the steam from the hot water enveloping his face in the sickly-sweet smell of decay. A glass half-filled with sour milk almost makes him gag. If Sandy could see this she’d never call him a pig again. Seriously, this is way worse than his apartment ever gets.
Wrinkling his nose Jared wonders how long Jensen has been like this. He’d last seen him on Thursday as they wrapped up for the long weekend, and he’d seemed alright then. Maybe a bit more quiet than usual, but to tell the truth he always gets like that when Sandy comes over. Jared’s just always thought it was because it meant they couldn’t hang out like usual, but now he’s starting to wonder if maybe it’s something else altogether.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
A glass bowl slips from his soapy fingers, crashing down on the counter where it breaks into a million pieces, spitting them all over the goddamn kitchen. Without thinking he tries to catch a larger piece and then drops it quickly, blood springing out from a cut in his thumb. Fuck!
“Fuck! Shit! Goddamn hell!”
“Jesus. What the hell are you doing?”
He turns around, a heartbeat too late to shout out a warning before Jensen steps forward, feet bare and vulnerable. His eyes widen and then he’s stumbling back, sucking in his breath as he looks down in alarm. His feet leave bloody prints on the grey tiles. Jared reaches out, managing to catch Jensen’s arm right before he falls down. He steadies himself on one of the kitchen chairs with what he realizes a second later is his own injured hand. It stings like a bitch, but he pays it no mind, too worried about the gray color on Jensen’s face.
“Fuck, Jen. You… Fuck. I’m sorry. There was soap and… Damn.”
“It’s ok. It’s ok,” Jensen mumbles, allowing Jared to lower him down on the chair. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Can you keep your feet up while I clean the floor?” Jared asks, and Jensen nods dumbly.
Jared wraps a dishtowel around his finger before making his way carefully across the floor and to the cupboard where Jensen keeps his vacuum cleaner. His flip-flops don’t provide much of a protection but apart from a small sting at his right heel he manages to avoid cutting himself further. He keeps an eye on Jensen while he first picks up the larger shards and then vacuums up the rest before mopping up the blood, worried Jensen might do something stupid, like stand up to help or pass out face first on the floor. Thankfully he does neither, instead he sits still, eyes slightly vacant as he silently watches Jared work. When the floor is finally clean Jared turns to Jensen, crouching by his chair in concern.
“Hey, man, you alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Jensen says absentmindedly, looking down at Jared’s hands, cradling his feet. “What was that?”
“I dropped your big glass bowl. Sorry.” Jared frowns, studying the soles of Jensen’s bare feet. There are two rather large cuts on his right foot and one on his left, pieces of glass still sticking out of them. Plus dots of tiny crystals shallowly embedded all over the bloody surface. “Damn, we need to clean these.”
“I can…” Jensen begins and tries to stand up, but Jared pushes him down on the chair again.
“I just finished mopping your blood off the floor, dude. Once is enough. Be still.”
“Ok.”
He sounds dazed, the grayish tint still clinging to his skin. Jared shoots him another worried look before standing up and fetching the first aid kit. It takes him half an hour to clean and patch up Jensen’s feet and by the time he’s finished his own thumb is throbbing painfully. The whole while Jensen hasn’t said a single word, just flinched a few times when a piece of glass has proved exceptionally stubborn, and Jared has to dig it out with the tweezers.
“Ok, I think that’s it,” Jared finally says and stands up, swaying slightly from the sudden change in gravity. “Don’t think you should walk yet though. Where you want me to take you, bed or couch?”
Jensen blinks up at him and Jared suddenly realizes what he said. “Er… I mean, you don’t wanna sit here, do you?”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Couch,” Jensen finally says. “But you don’t have to…”
“Dude, shut up and let me do this.” Jared flexes his muscles mockingly and then leans over him, only to stop. “Uh… how do I do this?”
“I can…” Jensen starts and tries to stand up but sucks in his breath before falling back down on the chair. “Shit.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… put your arms around my neck.”
Jensen frowns at him. “What?”
“Your arms. Around my neck. C’mon.”
“You’re not carrying me like a fucking girl, Jare,” Jensen growls, finally seeming to wake up from his stupor. “Forget it.”
“Well, what do you suggest then, Jen? You can’t put your feet down, man. What you wanna do? Crawl in there?”
The stubborn look on Jensen’s face makes Jared roll his eyes in frustration. “You’re not crawling, you idiot.” Without waiting for further argument he slides one arm under Jensen’s knees and the other under his arms and then stands up before Jensen realizes what’s happening. “Now just hang on or I’ll drop you on your ass.”
“Jared! What the… Put me down! Goddammit, you can’t… Jesus!”
That last exclamation is followed by flailing as Jared stumbles slightly and then Jensen is clinging to him like a monkey, fingers digging into Jared’s shoulders so hard, he’s sure they’ll leave bruises.
“Ow! Dude, no claws! Stop it!”
“Then put me down, asshole! Now!”
“Not dropping you right here on the floor, moron,” Jared huffs. Fuck, Jensen is one heavy motherfucker. “Damnit, what have you been eating? Rocks? You weigh a fucking ton, man.”
“You calling me fat?” Jensen exclaims incredulous, voice slightly screechy. “I’m not fat! I’m muscular, you fucking bony sasquatch!”
There’s a moment of shocked silence, and then they both burst out laughing. Jared only just manages to reach the couch before he stumbles, crashing Jensen down on the soft cushions, his elbow barely missing Jensen’s crotch.
“Jesus Christ!” he gasps between guffaws as he slides to the floor, back leaning against the couch. “What was that?”
“I don’t know!” Jensen stares up at the ceiling, chest heaving with hiccupping laughter. “I’m blaming it on massive blood loss.”
Jared snorts. He can feel the warmth from Jensen’s skin where his forearm presses against Jared’s back, and when he shifts on the floor Jensen’s knuckles scrape his bicep. “Right. That whole teaspoon-worth of blood you lost.”
“Dude, that was a lot more than a teaspoon. That was… like a pint or something.”
“That why you almost fainted? Wuss.”
“I did not almost faint” Jensen huffs indignantly. “I’m just tired, dickhead. I’m sick, remember?”
Jared turns his head and smiles at him. The gray color is thankfully gone from Jensen’s cheeks, instead he’s flushed, and his eyes gleam with laughter. Amusement tugs at his lips, teeth biting into them to try and keep them from turning into a full-fledged grin. He looks…
It’s like a punch in Jared’s gut. One moment he’s just sitting there, happily watching Jensen and the next…
Oh.
It’s like a veil has suddenly been lifted from his eyes. He gets it now. Gets what makes crazy fangirls jump Jensen at conventions, and the slightly saner ones gush about him on social media. He gets what makes Megan flail every time she sees him, and Sandy blush when Jensen kisses her on the cheek.
It’s not like he’s never noticed that Jensen is attractive, he’d be blind not too. It’s just that… Well, it’s Jensen. The guy who scratches his balls when he thinks no one is looking and can burp the alphabet after two beers. Jensen, who is the best friend Jared’s ever had and the most talented guy he knows. Jensen, who is, above all, a guy, and therefore not really qualified to register on Jared’s sexual radar.
Except suddenly he is. Just. Like. That.
Jared blinks to find Jensen looking at him, all laughter gone from his eyes, and he realizes he must have given something away, somehow. The urge to flee is so strong, his knees twitch, but he forces himself to stay still on the floor, giving Jensen a small smile.
“You hungry?” he says, voice only hitching slightly. “I could order something.”
Jensen looks for a moment like he wants to say something but then he nods and sinks back on the pillows, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Just… not pizza.”
Jared laughs and moves to pull his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. With a hiss he withdraws his hand and looks down at it. The dishtowel is soaked through with blood and his hand hurts like a bitch. “Fuck.”
“What?” Jensen mumbles and forces one eye open then sits up in alarm. “Jesus, Jare. You alright?”
“Yeah. I just… Must have been deeper than I thought. Wait here,” he says and stands up. He feels slightly nauseated and dizzy but he’s not about to let Jensen see that.
He grabs the first aid kit from the kitchen table on his way to the bathroom, then sits down on the toilet and unwraps his finger, hissing as it reveals a deep cut in the hollow part between his thumb and index finger. Doesn’t look like it damaged anything since he can still flex his finger, and he doesn’t think it needs stitches. If he can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be alright. But damn that’s a lot of blood…
“Jare? C’mon, Jare. Wake up.”
“Huh?” Jared opens his eyes. Jensen is gazing down at him, face lined with worry. “What happened?”
“Now who’s the wuss?” Jensen says, but the relief in his voice is evident. “You passed out, man. I just heard a crash and found you lying here like a sack of potatoes.”
“You’re not supposed to be walking,” Jared mumbles and struggles to sit up. “Your feet, they’re all fucked up.” His head feels funny, and the room seems to be spinning.
“You’re fucked up, Jare,” Jensen snorts and shakes his head, helping him. “Now you’ve got a bump on your head too. When you gonna stop hurting yourself, huh?”
“Why did you leave that message on my voicemail?” Jared asks back, trying to shake away the clouds in his brain.
Jensen freezes, his hands still wrapped around Jared’s biceps. Jared looks up, confused, and it hits him what he just said. “I mean… shit. I think I might have a concussion,” he blurts out in panic.
Jensen is staring at him, his grip tightening, and then he suddenly lets go, shuffling backwards, face closed off. “We should have you looked at, just to be sure,” he says, voice flat. “And your hand might need stitches.”
He struggles to his feet, wincing as they touch the floor. It must have hurt like hell for him to walk from the living room and to the bathroom, and that realization is what helps Jared make up his mind.
“My hand is fine. My head is fine. I’m just dizzy because apparently, I’m the wuss. Jen…” he says, reaching out for Jensen and only just catching him by the wrist. “Wait.”
“I’ll call a cab,” Jensen says and tries to tug his arm free.
“No. I’m alright. Jen…” Jared loses his grip as Jensen snatches his hand away, pulling it close to his chest as he starts out the door. “Dammit, Jensen, will you stop running away from me!”
Jensen stops, his whole body seeming to vibrate with tension. Everything seems to freeze for a second, and then Jensen’s shoulders suddenly slump, and he turns around. “I’m not…” He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I was drunk, ok? I didn’t know what I was saying.”
Jared shakes his head. “I don’t believe you. Yeah, alright, yes, you were obviously drunk. But I think you knew exactly what you were saying. And I think you meant it.”
“Jare…”
“Don’t lie to me, man.” Jared suddenly feels so very tired. “Not you. And not to me. That’s not who we are.”
Jensen bites his lip. His eyes flicker from the floor to the mirror and back again. “Then who are we?” he finally says. “What are we? I mean… if I say yes, I did mean what I said, it’s gonna fuck everything up. I can’t… Fuck, Jare, just forget it, ok?”
Jared swallows. “Who says it has to fuck everything up?”
The low laughter is anything but merry. “C’mon, man. Don’t act like you don’t care.”
“Care about what? That you’re gay?” Jared shakes his head angrily. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Shit, Jen, who the hell do you think I am?”
“It’s not…” Jensen closes his eyes, breathing in deeply before he opens them again, looking weary and defeated. “I know you’re not like that. It’s just… Jared, you’re my best friend, you know that.”
“Yeah, well, I thought I was,” Jared huffs. “Until I found out my best friend doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me he’s gay. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel?”
Jensen blushes. “I’m more bi… I mean, I’ve had girlfriends. I like women. I’m not…”
“Dude, whatever.” Jared would roll his eyes if he wasn’t feeling so damn dizzy. “Gay, bi, it still doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t tell me, man.”
“I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t…” Jensen hesitates. “Look, I didn’t think you’d freak out about me liking guys. That wasn’t it.”
“What was it then?”
“I thought you’d freak out about me liking you,” Jensen says quietly.
Jared breathes out. Now that it’s confirmed, he feels oddly calm about the whole thing. “Ok,” he says. “I get that. And you weren’t wrong. I kinda did, you know, freak out when I heard your message. Because I had no idea.”
Jensen nods, his shoulders slumping even further. He looks utterly defeated. “I wasn’t gonna tell you. I just got so damn drunk. I’m sorry. It’s all my fucking fault.” He rubs his face tiredly. “So, now what? Maybe we can, I don’t know, ask Kripke if he can send Dean on a solo road trip or something. Then you don’t have to…”
Jared blinks. “What are you on about?”
“Look, it’s ok. I get it. You’re freaked and this thing changes everything. I’ll talk to Eric and…”
“I’m not freaked.”
Jensen sighs. “Jare, you just told me you are. It’s ok. You’ve got every right…”
“Jen, shut up. I said I freaked out when I heard your message. That was like two days ago.” Jared waves his hand dismissively. “I’m over it. The freaking out part, I mean.”
“What?”
“I’m over it. No more freaking out. So, you like me.” He shrugs. “That’s alright. Lots of people like me.”
“Erm… You do realize when I say ‘like you’ I mean…”
“You mean you wanna bend me over and fuck me. Yeah, I got that. I’m not stupid, you know.” Jared gets slowly to his feet. He still feels faintly dizzy and his head is throbbing. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been agonizing over this for two years, Jen.”
Jensen blinks. “Uhm…”
“Jesus.” Jared shakes his head in exasperation. “You should have just told me and we could have skipped this whole bloody mess. And I mean that literally,” he adds and points down. “Damn it, Jen, your feet are bleeding again.”
Jensen looks down. “Only a little.” He raises his head again. “You’re the one dripping blood all over my bathroom floor, jerk,” he says, nodding towards Jared’s hand.
“Well, help me fix it, bitch,” Jared says and sits down on the toilet seat. “The least you can do for perving over my sweet ass for two years without even telling me.”
“Christ, man,” Jensen laughs, his face blushing deep red as he reaches for the first aid kit. “Shut up.”
“Sweet talk will get you nowhere,” Jared says with a grin and then spends the next ten minutes trying not to pass out again while Jensen cleans his wound and wraps gauze and tape around his thumb. Ok, so seeing his own blood kinda makes him feel a little bit woozy. So what?
“I still think we should have you looked at. That bump on your head is quite impressive.”
“I’m fine. I feel a lot better already.” He stands slowly up and this time the room stands still. “See? I’m good. We should eat something. Not pizza,” he adds with a smirk.
“Not pizza,” Jensen agrees and shudders.
He allows Jared to help him back to the couch, hobbling on his injured feet. Jared lets him lie down, and then he checks the soles of Jensen’s feet, pretending not to notice the faint intake of breath as he cradles them gently in his hands. Jensen has nice feet, he finds himself noticing. They’re soft, the skin only slightly thickened at the heels. He wonders what they’d feel like, nudging his own under the covers.
“I need to change the dressing here but otherwise you’re fine,” he says and stands up, fetching the first aid kit from the bathroom. They should just start having one in every room, he thinks, and then realizes that sounds like they’re living together. Well, for all the time they spend together they might as well be. It’s never struck him as odd before, and now it’s all he can think about, how nice it would be to just have Jensen there, all the time.
Jensen keeps still as Jared changes the dressing, eyes closed where he rests against the pillows. When he’s done Jared calls for Chinese, letting Jensen sleep until the food arrives. They eat in silence, the sight of Grissom stoically solving some gross murder case on TV doing nothing to diminish their appetite.
“You want to watch a movie?” Jared asks when he’s dumped the empty containers in the trash.
“Sure.”
Jensen seems drained but the wariness is gone from his eyes, and he looks almost peaceful.
“Or we can talk,” Jared suggests quietly. He expects Jensen to stiffen but he just stares at the TV for a moment and then nods.
“Yeah, ok.”
Jared sits back down on the couch, figuring it will be easier to talk if they’re not facing each other, but to his surprise Jensen turns and plants his bandaged feet in Jared’s lap, eyes studying him thoughtfully.
“There have been times I thought you knew,” Jensen says, face flushing slightly. “I mean, you would look at me and…” He shrugs. “And you kept touching me, like all the time. But then I realized you do that with everyone.”
“Not everyone,” Jared says lamely. “Not… Eric.”
Jensen chuckles. “No. Not Eric. But that’s just because he looks scared to death every time you try.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Jared averts his eyes, absently rubbing Jensen’s toes between his fingers. “Look, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. It wasn’t like that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, even if I’d known you were gay, or bi, whatever, I probably would have been just the same.”
Jensen sighs. “I know, Jare.”
“And you’re wrong, it’s not the same with everyone. You’re not everyone, Jen. You’re… special.”
Jensen snorts, and Jared smiles. “Shut up. I mean it; you are. If it hadn’t been for this gig we never would have met.” Another snort, and Jared flips Jensen a finger. “Ok, so we probably would have met at some point, being in the same business and all, but we might never have gotten to know each other the way we do.” He takes a deep breath. “And that kinda scares me. Because I can’t really imagine my life without you.”
He glances up at Jensen but Jensen is busy studying his hands, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in small circles. It’s a habit he has when he’s nervous, usually during interviews or when girls hit on him. That he’s doing it now, because of Jared… It’s just not right.
“This… thing, it doesn’t change that,” Jared says gently. “Nothing could change that, Jen. You know that, right?”
Jensen nods, nibbling at his lips. “Yeah,” he finally says, his voice low and hoarse. “Yeah, I know. Now. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure before but now I am.”
“Good.” Jared runs his thumb down the row of toes on Jensen’s right foot, smiling when it twitches. They sit in silence for a while; Jensen still rubbing his fingers together while Jared rubs his toes. They really are nice, Jensen’s toes.
It’s getting dark outside, and Jared wonders what time it is. He’s starting to feel sleepy, the last couple of nights catching up on him. He should go home, but he doesn’t really want to move. Maybe Jensen will let him crash on his couch.
“So what did I say?” Jensen suddenly asks, rousing Jared awake. “The message, I mean.”
“You don’t remember?”
“Not really. I didn’t… It wasn’t anything pornographic, was it?” Jensen blushes, his fingers rubbing together faster and faster. Jared has to fight the urge to grab his hand and still them.
“No. Not porny at all. You asked…” Jared chuckles softly. “You asked if I ever thought about you when I was kissing Sandy.”
“Oh God.” Jensen’s fingers finally stop their rubbing, his hands too busy covering his face. “No wonder you freaked out,” he mumbles from between his fingers, shoulders shaking as he laughs in embarrassment.
Jared hesitates but then he says, “Yeah, that wasn’t really what freaked me out.”
“Oh God,” Jensen’s head drops even further. “Please tell me I didn’t say something even worse.”
“No, that was it.”
Jensen peeks from between his fingers. “Then what freaked you out?”
“Well, after that I kinda did think of you, every time I kissed her.”
Jensen goes completely still, and then slowly he lowers his hands. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
He starts pulling his feet from Jared’s lap, but Jared holds them still, shaking his head. “It’s ok.”
“No. Shit. You know I love Sandy, man. She’s wonderful. I didn’t mean to… Fuck.”
“I know. It’s ok.” Jared takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t really that either, you know, that freaked me out.”
“Ok, Jare, now you’re freaking me out,” Jensen laughs nervously.
Jared ignores him. “It was more the fact that I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. That… That freaked me out.”
Jensen freezes. “Oh,” he finally says.
“Yeah.”
“But you said… You’re over it, right? Which is good because…”
“I said I was over freaking out. I never said I was over wanting to kiss you.”
Jensen stares at him. “You’re straight, Jare,” he finally croaks out. “So don’t go saying stuff like that. You can’t… You can’t say stuff like that to me.”
Jared frowns. “Since when do you have a monopoly on wanting to kiss guys?”
“It’s not a joke, Jare. Not to me.”
“Dude, am I laughing?” Jared throws up his hands in annoyance. “I’m kinda having a small sexual crisis here, and you’re being an ass about it.”
“I’m not… What, you find out I want to kiss you, and just like that you turn bi?” Jensen sucks in a trembling breath, lips thinning. “Don’t be stupid, Jare.”
“I’m not the one being stupid, Jen, you are.”
Silence. “You have a girlfriend.” Less anger now and more… sadness.
Jared drops his gaze, looking down at Jensen’s feet still resting in his lap. “I know, I haven’t forgotten. I’m not saying I’m gay or bi or whatever, I’m just…”
He strokes along Jensen’s ankle, breathing slowly as he tries to gather his thoughts. Everything he comes up with sounds stupid, even to him. He doesn’t know how to explain it; he doesn’t even know what it is he’s trying to explain. He just knows he has to, somehow, make Jensen understand.
“I had this dream. Where you… you kissed me. And we did… other stuff.” He hears Jensen groan. “And it felt… it was just…” Taking a deep breath he finally looks up, holding Jensen’s gaze. “It felt right.”
Jensen closes his eyes for a second, swallowing. When he opens them again they look very tired and very old. “It doesn’t mean anything, Jare. It was a dream. In real life… it wouldn’t be the same.”
“I hope not. I kinda don’t want Sandy coming through that door with a chainsaw.”
Jensen chuckles, but it sounds pained. “No, you wouldn’t want that.”
He pauses, tongue slipping out to lick his lips as his eyelashes slowly sweep his cheeks. It’s such an unconscious thing, so innocent in its nervousness, that Jared feels his heart skip a beat. It’s not that he reads everything Jensen does as sexual all of a sudden, it’s more that he’s seeing what it actually is. Not sexual at all. Just… Jensen. Everything… it’s just Jensen. With his quirks and ticks, nervous habits and ways to deal with his own shyness, and the whole world looking at him. Biting his lips and peeking out through the shade of his eyelashes. Ducking his head as if that can hide him from the cameras. Smiling stiffly and dropping deadpan jokes that don’t require him opening up enough to really laugh. No act at all, just Jensen.
As if he can hear Jared’s thoughts, Jensen suddenly looks up, and there’s no shyness now, no awkward hesitation in his eyes, just determination.
“Jared, you can do stuff in dreams that you’d never do otherwise,” he says calmly, a dismissive tone in his voice that makes Jared feel cold, “because it doesn’t matter, and you don’t have to deal with the consequences. Which us really kissing would have plenty of. It’s not the same.”
“I know. I’m just…”
Jensen shakes his head. “No. You love Sandy.’
“Yeah, but…”
“No, Jared.” This time Jared doesn’t try to stop him when Jensen pulls his feet away. He wraps his arms around his knees protectively, chin propped up on them as he gazes sadly at Jared. “Look, I get it. You’re having your moment of sexual curiosity. Everyone does. But even if you weren’t with Sandy… You can’t use me to explore it.”
Jared is taken aback. “Use you? Jen, you already told me you want it. And hey, you were the one who brought it up, made me think of it.”
“I know. And if you want to blame me, that’s fine. But…” Jensen breathes in and then slowly out before looking Jared straight in the eye. “Jared, I didn’t just drunk dial any guy because I was feeling sad and lonely. I called you.”
Jared frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“You want to go gay for a weekend or whatever, then fine.” Jensen shrugs even if the tension in his jaw is anything but carefree. “That’s between you and Sandy. But you can’t do it with me.”
“Why?”
“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”
Jared stares at him, blinking. He’s obviously missing something. Jensen wants him, they’ve already established that, but now he’s saying they can’t go there, even if Jared decided to. “Why?” he finally repeats, feeling increasingly stupid.
Jensen gazes at him, as if he’s not sure if Jared’s playing him or if he’s really that thick. Finally he sighs and looks briefly away before fixing his eyes on Jared again.
“How would you feel if Sandy called right now and told you it’s over, that she was only sleeping with you, because she wanted to try having sex with a Sasquatch?”
Jared decides to let the Sasquatch thing go for now, at least while he’s trying to figure Jensen out. “I’d be angry. And feel hurt and used, because I love-” He stops, eyes widening as Jensen raises one eyebrow. “Oh.”
Jensen’s smile looks sad and tired. “Yeah.”
“You don’t just like me.” It’s not a question.
“No.”
“You… like me.”
Jensen’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yes.”
“Oh.”
Jared looks down at his hands. His thumb and index finger start rubbing together in tiny fast circles. Huh, it actually is soothing. In an OCD kind of way.
“How long?” he finally asks, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jensen shrug. His heart plummets. “Please don’t say two years. Please don’t say that.”
“Ok, I won’t say it.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” Jensen’s voice shakes, just a little.
Two years. Two years of being in love with someone who’s too stupid to even notice, Jared thinks. God, he’s such a moron. It’s a wonder Jensen hasn’t laid one on him ages ago.
“So why… What made you…?” He finally manages to look up at Jensen. “I mean, why now?”
Jensen shrugs again but his lips are thin. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” Jared insists, because he needs to know, needs to understand what he did to make Jensen feel so bad he’d thrown all pretense to the wind and drunk himself into a stupor.
Jensen’s quiet for a moment, but then the words suddenly come rushing out, as if they’re too embarrassing to deserve pauses for air. “Shannon said you’d been asking about her engagement ring. She got the impression you were planning to pop the question. To Sandy, I mean. So, I kinda… freaked out. Which apparently involved getting very drunk and very stupid.” He stops and pulls in a deep breath, face red and lips twitching nervously.
Huh. Jared had been interested but not because he was planning on shopping one. It had just been nice seeing Shannon so happy and so he’d asked her about it and the upcoming wedding, enjoying listening to her enthusiastic ramble.
“No. I wasn’t. I’m not. We’re not…” He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why?” Jensen asks, sounding suddenly annoyed. “How long you been together now, Jare? Three years? Isn’t it about time?”
Jared looks at him, surprised. “Dude, I’m only twenty-five. Why would I want to get married?”
“Duh, I don’t know,” Jensen says sarcastically. “Because you love her? Because you want to make an honest woman out of her?”
Jared can’t help laughing at that. “If Sandy got more honest, I’d be scared, man. That girl is not afraid to speak her mind.”
Jensen huffs, for once not joining in on the joke. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know. And it’s still stupid. Yes, I love her, but…” Jared sighs. He’s had this conversation often enough with his mother, he didn’t expect to have to take this crap from Jensen as well. “I live here nine months out of the year, Jen. She lives in LA. She has her friends and work there. I have mine here. Getting married… It would just be strapping us down in a way that would never work.”
Jensen just shakes his head. “It’s not shackles, Jared, whatever they say. Not like you’re going to prison.”
“It would still change everything. If we were married… I’d want my wife to live with me, not in a different city, like now, sharing a place with girlfriends. Just like I’m pretty sure she’d want her husband to sleep in bed with her every night, not on the other side of the continent. And right now, it’s just not possible. Hell, as long as we have this gig it won’t be.”
“You can’t put your life on hold, season after season,” Jensen argues, stubborn as hell. “Dude, we might be doing this for another two, three, or god forbid, five years.”
“I’m not putting my life on hold, man. I’m living it the way I want to. And so is she.” Jensen’s attitude is really starting to grate him. One minute he’s saying he wants in Jared’s pants, the next he’s trying to push Jared down the aisle with Sandy against his will! “I know people think it’s weird, but we’re just not… we really don’t want to be married. I guess…” He shrugs. “I guess we want to keep our options open.”
“Like going gay for a few days,” Jensen says sarcastically. “Well, that’s awfully Hollywood of you. Sure that’s what Sandy had in mind?”
“Stop it!” Jared snaps, but Jensen just glares at him defiantly. They’re both getting angry now, and it feels all wrong. Why are they fighting? They never fight. What the fuck is Jensen’s problem anyway? “You know, maybe I’m like you. Maybe I’m bi and I just never realized it because…” He swallows, all anger draining out of him as the answer he’s been looking for suddenly becomes clear. “Because there wasn’t anyone to be bi for. Until you.”
Jensen rolls his eyes, but when he answers there’s a tremble to his voice. “So now you’re going from straight to gay to bi to Jensen-sexual? Man, you’d give Freud a run for his money.”
“Doubt it, seeing as he’s dead.” Jared sighs. “Jensen, why are you being like this?”
The sarcastic look on Jensen’s face melts away, and after a moment’s pause he answers quietly, “Because you’re being cruel.”
“I’m being cruel? Dude, what? You’re the one...”
“You’re putting my hopes up,” Jensen shoots back. “That’s cruel. You’re making me think I might have a chance when we both know I don’t. You’re with Sandy, Jared. And even just contemplating this is not fair on her. Or me.”
Oh. Jared stills. He really doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t think of it like that but Jensen’s right. He is being cruel, not consciously, but still. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t do anything.” Jensen looks away, his jaw set. “Forget it. All of it. We’ll just go to work tomorrow and be like always and… Yeah. That’s it.”
“I can’t just…” Jared shakes his head. “My stuff, yeah. I can deal with that on my own if that’s what you want. But, Jen, you’re miserable. Because of me! I mean, how am I supposed to just let that go?”
“I’m not miserable,” Jensen says, annoyed. “I just had a down moment. I’m ok, really.”
“Don’t lie to me, man. You’re not ok. How can you be ok? You’ve been in love with me for two years, and I never even noticed, and now you know I know… I’m not stupid, dude, I know it’s got to be killing you.”
Jensen shrugs, but his lips are a thin line, and Jared can already feel him shutting him out. “I can handle it. I always do.”
There’s something so final about that sentence that Jared doesn’t know what to say. They sit in silence, Jensen staring down at his hands, Jared watching Jensen for any hint to what he’s supposed to do now. Finally, he sighs and quietly gets up from the couch.
“You need help getting to bed?” he asks awkwardly, indicating Jensen’s feet.
Jensen shakes his head. “I’ll manage,” he says and finally looks up, but it’s with a stiff smile and blank eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, sure… yeah.” Jared swallows. “Jen, are you…”
“Go home, Jared,” Jensen sighs. “Get some sleep.”
Jared stands still, feeling for the first time ever as if he’s not wanted in Jensen’s home. That he’s being kindly but firmly pushed away and out of the apartment. He gets this irrational fear that it really means Jensen is pushing him out of his life, that if he walks out that door that’s the end of everything.
“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly. “I don’t want… I mean, I can’t…”
“Jare,” Jensen cuts him off, gently. “We’re ok.”
“Are we?”
“We will be.”
That’s all he is offered, and he takes it greedily, terrified that Jensen is wrong.
Continued here.
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jared/Sandy
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 19.050 words
Summary:
Beep. “Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?” Click.
The smile slips from his face and he stands frozen, staring at the phone in his hand. After a moment he punches the buttons and replays the message, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
The voice is hoarse, the words slightly slurred. No trace of a smile, no hint of it being a joke. Is he…?
Licking his lips nervously, Jared snaps the phone shut. What’s going on?
Author's note: Another old one from the forgotten drawer. Beta'd by the lovely candygramme but I've fiddled with it since so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Title is from th song by Anna Ternheim. This work is also available on AO3.
Jared sighs and checks his watch again. Seriously, how long does it take one woman to pee? The movie’s about to start and Sandy’s been in there for hours. Well, at least ten minutes. Whatever. Too long anyway. Maybe the Mexican food is messing with her stomach or something. Or, you know, it might be ‘women’s trouble’, in which case, complaining once she gets out would not be a wise thing. Some mistakes you learn not to make twice.
The music of I’m so pretty from West Side Story suddenly vibrates in his pocket, making him jump and spill popcorn on the floor. Dammit. He looks around for some place to put down the big bucket of popcorn and two super-sized cups of Coke he’s balancing in his hands. No luck.
The music keeps playing and a couple of people glance his way, probably wondering why he has such a cheesy ringtone. It had been a joke, his way of getting back at Jensen for choosing I’m a Big Big Girl with Emilia as Jared’s personalized ring tone on his own phone. The joke has pretty much worn thin by now, but Jared hasn’t bothered changing it back. Besides, it still makes Jensen cringe and that’s always fun.
He’s considering asking someone to hold the drinks for him while he answers when Sandy suddenly comes sauntering out from the restrooms, looking pink and fresh and not stomach-achy (or thank God, crampy) at all.
“Here, take this,” he says and shoves the drinks at her. The second she relieves him of them the phone stops ringing. Figures. He flips it open anyway just as it dings to let him know he’s got a voicemail. Yep, Jensen.
“Come on, baby. The movie’s about to start,” Sandy says but he shakes his head and kisses her lightly on the cheek.
“You go in and get us seats. I’m just gonna hear what Jen wants.”
Not that it’s likely to be important. Jensen has this odd habit of calling him for no apparent reason. Messages left in the middle of the night asking if Jared has seen his car keys? “Oh, there they are, never mind.” Or telling him he’d just seen a giraffe on TV and thought of him. Or “Jare, dude. How many people your size can they fit into a Volkswagen? ‘Cause I’m watching Guinness World Records and they’ve got like twenty clowns stuffed in one. Weird.” Strange and totally random things that make no sense whatsoever.
Jared figures it’s Jensen’s weird sense of humor so he starts leaving his own odd messages on Jensen’s voicemail. “Hey, man. You left your brain in my fridge. The dogs licked it. You don’t mind, do you?” Or “I’m watching Dark Angel, man. So which one of you is the chick?” Or “Jenny, baby, I just had a dream you were making out with the Impala. Something you wanna tell me?” The more bizarre the more fun it is. Not that Jensen ever mentions them, no more than Jared mentions the messages Jensen leaves him. It’s like their own unspoken duel.
So when he hits #1 on speed dial for his voicemail and listens to the androgynous voice telling him he has “One new voice message” the grin is already in place while he tries to think of something crazy enough to retort with.
Beep. “Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?” Click.
The smile slips from his face and he stands frozen, staring at the phone in his hand. After a moment he punches the buttons and replays the message, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
The voice is hoarse, the words slightly slurred. No trace of a smile, no hint of it being a joke. Is he…?
Licking his lips nervously, Jared snaps the phone shut. What’s going on?
He contemplates calling Jensen back but the opening credits are already playing inside the theater, so he slips the phone into his pocket instead and goes searching for Sandy. Even if the lights have been turned off, he has no problem finding her. They always sit in the same place, top row, right above the stairs. Gives him enough legroom and they can make out if the movie proves boring.
He sits down and hands her the bucket of popcorn, accepting the Coke from her hand.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Just Jensen.”
She gives him an odd look and he realizes he used Jensen’s full name, something he usually only does in public because the nicknames make Jensen uncomfortable. The realization makes his chest tighten in guilt. The guy’s his best friend. What the hell is wrong with him?
He manages a smile and she smiles back, then runs her hand over his chest and up to his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
‘Well, fuck you, Jen. Now I do,’ he thinks, then kisses her harder, thrusting his tongue into her mouth until she pulls away gasping, dark eyes reflecting the images flickering across the silver screen. He smiles again and lets his hand slip down between her thighs, resting there as he turns his gaze on the movie.
Whatever that phone call was about it will have to wait. He’s not missing out on fanboying Johnny Depp in full-blown pirate gear just because Jensen is being weird.
--------------
Sandy’s fast asleep, her hair smelling of popcorn and sex, when Jared gently removes himself from her embrace and slips out of bed. She sighs softly and curls up on her side, her naked skin shimmering with sweat in the moonlight. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and fishes the phone out of the pocket of his jeans that lie in a heap on the floor, then slinks out, closing the door quietly behind him. He walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, staring blindly into it for a while, then jerks awake and fishes out a beer can, snapping it open and draining half in one go.
The phone feels heavy in his hand. Feels like so much more than a piece of metal and plastic. Feels like when he held the unread script to the season two finale in his hand, not knowing whether Sam would live or die. Like holding his whole future in his hand.
Maybe Jensen really had been joking. Maybe this is his idea of a prank, taking the gay subtext a little bit further. Only he didn’t sound like he was joking. In fact he sounded completely serious. And slightly desperate. And very, very drunk.
Jared gulps down the rest of the beer, feeling stupidly nervous and unsure.
Question is, should he pretend that it never happened just like he’s done with all the other odd messages Jensen’s left him - and suddenly he’s rethinking them from a completely different angle - or is this something he can’t ignore? Something they really need to talk about?
Fuck.
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and then pushes #3 on speed dial. He listens to it ring on the other end. No one picks up. Not surprising if Jensen really was as drunk as he sounded. Finally, it clicks over to “Can’t come to the phone right now. You know what to do.” Beep.
“Hey, Jen. I…” Jared falters, his cheeks blushing in the dark. Maybe he should have figured out what to say before he made the call. “Listen. I got your message and.... Call me, man.” He pauses. “We should talk.” He snaps the phone shut and draws in his breath. Ball’s in your court now, buddy.
Sunday goes by incredibly slowly. They take the dogs for a walk then spend some time doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen. Sandy says he lives like a pig and she’s right. The weekends she comes over are always partly spent doing housework because the mess bugs her. Every time she leaves, he vows he’ll have the place cleaned up the next time she comes over. So far he hasn’t been able to keep his word. He’s just not the domestic type, something he’ll have to work on.
When he sees her off at the airport on Sunday night, he feels guilty about being slightly relieved. It’s not that he wants her gone it’s just that with her here he hasn’t had time to sit down and really think this thing with Jensen over. Because it is a thing, he’s sure of that now. The fact that Jensen hasn’t called him back pretty much proves it. Something that is worrying Jared almost more than the actual message.
He drives by Jensen’s place on his way home, stopping for a few seconds outside, then driving on and home. What’s he going to say anyway? “Hey, Jen. So, you want me to kiss you, or what?” Stupid.
He spends the evening sitting on the couch, staring at the TV without really noticing what’s on, the cell phone heavy in his pocket. It stays silent.
He tries not to think about it. Tries so hard that it ends up being the only thing he can think about.
Jensen and kissing.
Something Jared’s seen plenty of, thanks to late nights and beer and so many Canadian girls apparently not knowing the meaning of the word shy. But he’s never experienced it firsthand, obviously. Never paid it any thought either, except maybe to wonder if those lips lived up to the girls’ expectations. They all do seem dazed enough after, but then again, they do that after only getting a smile.
Funny the way girls just flail around Jensen. It’s like there’s something about him that shortcuts their brains and they end up stammering and blushing and looking like they’re a wind-blow away from falling over. Really, he’s just a guy. A ridiculously good-looking guy, but a guy just the same. Jared certainly has never felt faint or lost for words whenever Jensen shoots him a grin. And he’s never fantasized about Jensen’s lips, no matter how girly they are.
Which makes it even more confusing that images of said lips refuse to leave Jared’s brain alone. And not just his lips. The whole pretty Jensen package keeps assaulting him however much he tries to fight it.
Jensen’s green eyes. His freckled skin. The way his forehead knots over his eyebrows when he frowns. The shadow of stubble on his cheeks. How the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed or drunk. And those lips that look so soft as they come closer, closer…
Jared blinks in shock and the image disappears. What the hell was that? What is he doing? Why is he…?
Jensen lowers his eyes, biting his lips nervously and then suddenly he looks up, pupils blown dark and open. A pink tongue slips out, licking the lower lip, and then his eyes are closing, slowly, as his lips part on a nervous intake of breath. Barely an inch away and…
Jared blinks again but his eyelids feel so heavy and he’s only human, ok? It’s not like he means to go there. He’s not really responsible for what his brain conjures up when he sleeps. Because Jared wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kinda guy. He’s not…
Jensen’s lips hover against Jared’s, so close he can feel their heat, but they’re still keeping a breath’s distance, like Jensen isn’t sure whether a kiss would be welcomed or not. He breathes into Jared’s mouth, air that tastes of coffee and uncertainty. Jared holds his own breath, afraid he’ll ruin this, whatever this is, if he so much as blinks an eye. Please, he thinks. Please, yes. I want you to. Jensen hitches his breath and then the distance is gone and he’s just there, warm and soft and pressing against Jared’s lips. With his fingers in Jared’s hair and his warm body pushing Jared deeper into the cushions. He parts his lips on a gasp and Jensen licks along them, his tongue hot to the point of feverish, and Jared can’t fight the moan rumbling in his chest. He puts a hand awkwardly on Jensen’s hip then slips his fingers under the waistband of his jeans, chasing the softness of skin where it disappears under the denim. Jensen shifts in his lap, rolling his hips in a way that has Jared gasping, dick hard and aching in his pants. Jensen laughs soft puffs of air into Jared’s mouth.
“Too many clothes,” Jared groans and just like that they’re gone. Jensen’s ass is round, each cheek fitting perfectly in the palms of Jared’s hands as he cups them, kneading his thumbs into the dimples at the bottom of Jensen’s spine. Jensen keeps kissing him, slow warm kisses of soft lips and wet tongues, with teeth nibbling and gasps turning into grunts as Jared shifts his hips, slip-sliding his cock against Jensen’s. “Fuck, Jen,” he groans into Jensen’s mouth and Jensen whispers back, “Wanted this. Wanted this for so long.”
Jared jerks awake, his hand still stuck in his pants, now wet and sticky with come. Ugh. The clock on the DVD player says two in the morning. He gets slowly to his feet and walks on shaky legs into the bathroom, stumbling out of his underwear and swiping pathetically at the mess with them. He should shower but he doesn’t, leaves it for the morning instead and shuffles into the bedroom. The sheets still smell of Sandy, but he swears he can taste Jensen on his tongue and the whole thing is so fucked up he can’t even think about it.
He sets the alarm for six o’clock before once again falling into dream-filled sleep where he and Jensen keep on kissing, hot and heavy, until Sandy crashes through the door with a chainsaw. He wakes up sweating, his dick twitching against a wet spot on the sheets, his heart hammering guilt into his chest.
What the hell is happening to him?
He keeps the shower cold and short, then throws on whatever lies on top on the neatly folded mountain of clean laundry Sandy left ready for him. Only to catch himself looking in the mirror, thinking, ‘Do I look good in this? Good enough that Jensen would want to kiss me?’ The answer is yes, and he quickly pulls the t-shirt off and replaces it with a pink one that Jensen hates.
Except it’s not so much that he hates it, more that he says it makes Jared look totally gay.
Damn.
Jared pulls it off again and throws it on the bed, panic starting to rise in his throat. Their driver will be here any minute and he will have to face Jensen and…
Why the hell didn’t he try harder to get a hold of Jensen yesterday, just to clear the air?
He finally settles for a green t-shirt and a grey zipped up hoodie. Nothing remotely sexy, in fact the green color is slightly nauseating. He kinda hates himself for letting this thing affect him so much. Especially since he’s not sure if it’s the thought of Jensen being gay or that he’s gay for Jared that’s so upsetting.
He’s never thought of himself as a bigot. Being in this business means meeting more gay people in one day than all his childhood years in Texas combined and he’s never thought any different of them. But this is Jensen. His Jensen. His best friend who’s slept on his couch and drunk his beer and beat him at Grand Theft Auto. Who he feels closer to than he can remember ever feeling to anyone before. Who apparently, maybe, possibly, fantasizes about Jared kissing him.
And, if last night’s dreams are anything to go by, Jared’s dick is perfectly ok with that. Which brings on a whole new and way more worrying level of ‘What the fuck?’
He jumps when his phone pings, almost dropping it as he fishes it out of his pocket. The car is here, waiting outside and the tension in Jared’s stomach magnifies by a hundred.
Damn, he’s making way too much out of this. Jensen was drunk and decided to pull a prank on him, that’s all. The guy’s an actor for Christ’s sake, he probably made his voice sound like that to deliberately mess with Jared’s head. Making him have stupid dreams about things he’d never even thought about and never would have if Jensen hadn’t forced them upon him with his stupid question.
Suddenly he feels pissed off, and he slams the door behind him, only feeling a tiny bit guilty for possibly waking up his neighbors at the ass crack of dawn. Clif greets him way too cheerily, and he plasters on a fake smile and asks Clif about his weekend like he always does. It isn’t until Clif’s halfway through a story about a karaoke bar and tequila that Jared realizes they’re driving in the wrong direction.
“Clif, hey!” he interrupts. “Forgetting someone?”
Clif glances at him in the mirror. “It’s just you today. I thought you knew.”
Jared stares at him. “What? Why?”
Clif shrugs. “I was told he’s sick.”
Jared blinks, mind going at a million miles per minute. Sick? Jensen never takes sick days. Hell, Kim once physically manhandled him into a car and ordered him home because he was running a fever of 102. And still he was back the next day, looking so much like shit the make-up girls didn’t know where to start. For him to call in sick he must be close to dying.
Worried Jared flips open his phone and dials Jensen’s number. It’s turned off, taking him straight to voicemail and he falters for a second, not knowing what to say with Clif two feet away, listening.
“Hey, it’s me,” he finally says, keeping his voice even but concerned. “Just checking in on you. You really sick, you pussy, or just too lazy to get your ass out of bed? Call me, ok? Jerk,” he adds as an afterthought, hoping Jensen gets it.
Clif eyes him in the mirror, and Jared shrugs before leaning back, closing his eyes. This is going to be a long day.
As it turns out it’s actually a short one. They do a few close-ups, and then he spends some time going over already shot scenes from last week with Kim, discussing different angles and how to better bring out the emotions Kim is looking for in that specific scene. Jared finds himself zoning out, watching Jensen more than he watches himself. Is that Dean looking tired or is it just Jen? Did he flinch because Dean should, or because Jensen couldn’t help it? Is the look in his eyes for Sam or Jared? Has Jensen always licked his lips so much, and Jared just never noticed?
“Hey, you with me?”
Jared jerks out of his musings to find Kim watching him, and he feels himself blush. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”
Kim holds his gaze a few seconds longer, but then he turns back to the small screen. “See right there? I think-“
“You know what’s wrong with Jensen?” Jared blurts out and Kim looks up again, frowning at him. “I mean, you know Jen. He wouldn’t call in sick even if he was missing half a lung, so it must be pretty serious, right? I was just wondering…”
Kim shrugs. “I don’t know. He talked to Eric, not me.”
“Oh.” Jared bites his lip. Maybe he should ask Eric.
“You could just call him,” Kim suggests. “If you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried. I just… And I’ve tried. He’s not answering.”
Kim sighs and stands up. “Look, we can do this any time. No use if your mind’s not in it anyway.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can…”
“Kid, get out of here. Go over there and check on him.”
“Ok. Yeah, alright. I’ll… Thanks.”
“No problem. But keep the hugging to the minimum. We can’t afford you getting sick as well.”
Jared laughs but it’s short and hollow. “Yeah, sure. I’ll try.”
He borrows one of the rentals and drives over to Jensen’s hotel, the whole way wondering what he’s doing. So the guy’s sick. Got nothing to do with that phone call. ‘Again, you’re making way too big a deal out of this, Jare,’ he thinks. Jensen’s gonna laugh his head off.
Except the Jensen that finally opens the door after Jared’s pounded on it for five minutes doesn’t look like he’s about to laugh at anything. He’s unshaven and red-eyed, skin grey and sweaty, and he fucking stinks. Like he hasn’t showered in a week.
“Jared,” he says, voice flat and tired, eyes alarmingly dull. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you, dude,” Jared says, staring at Jensen with concern. “Christ. You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jensen bites back with no real emotion and flips him the finger before walking back into the apartment, leaving the door open. After a short hesitation Jared follows him, closing the door quietly behind him.
The air inside the apartment is thick and stuffy, the smell of sweat and smoke making Jared’s eyes sting.
“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” Jensen mutters from the couch where he’s huddled under a blanket.
There are two ashtrays filled to the brim with stubbed out cigarettes on the table. At least five empty pizza boxes are littering the floor and when Jared rounds the corner of the couch he almost trips over a plastic bag filled with empties. As if Jensen had tried to tidy up when Jared rang the doorbell and then just given up.
“Hey, man. Mind if I crack a window?” Jared asks as he tries to work out what to say.
Jensen grunts and waves his hand, which Jared takes as permission, and he flings open the windows in the living room and then walks into the kitchen to open there as well so the air can breathe through. The sink is filled with dirty dishes and glasses and when Jared checks the fridge, he finds it pretty much empty.
Wary he walks back into the living room. Jensen is still refusing to look at him, his eyes fixated on the TV where half-naked girls are shaking their booties to some nineties rap song. Jared watches him for a minute, then takes the remote and turns the TV off before sitting down on the coffee table, forcing Jensen to face him.
“Hey, man. What’s going on?”
Jensen shrugs, eyes averted. “I’m sick. Flu or something.”
“Huh.” Jared studies him. “I’ll admit you’ve looked better. So what, you’re throwing up?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Jensen is still not looking at him and Jared’s starting to feel more than a little worried. He reaches out to lay a palm on Jensen’s forehead but Jensen jerks away, swatting at his hand. “What the hell are you doing?” he hisses, finally a hint of emotion in his voice.
“Trying to see if you’ve got a fever,” Jared answers patiently. “Be still.”
“You’re not my mom, Jare,” Jensen grumbles but he doesn’t object when Jared gives him a pointed look and reaches for him again. Jensen’s forehead is clammy but no warmer than it should be. If anything he feels slightly cool. Jared sits back and purses his lips. Jensen is obviously not in the mood to talk, and the foul air in the apartment is starting to give Jared a headache.
“C’mon,” he says and stands up, offering Jensen his hand. “Shower time. You’ll feel a whole lot better.”
Jensen gives him the evil eye but Jared just glares back, stubbornly holding out his hand, and after a while Jensen takes it and allows Jared to haul him to his feet. It brings them uncomfortably close, so close that Jared can feel Jensen’s hot breath brushing his Adam’s apple. It smells of alcohol and cigarettes, and the thought, ‘If we kissed right now he would taste really bad,’ suddenly pops into Jared’s head. He can feel himself blushing and takes a quick step back, covering his faltering by patting Jensen on the back and then shoving him gently in the direction of the bathroom.
“There you go. Wash away the stink. I’ll make some coffee.”
“I’m out,” Jensen mutters as he shuffles down the hall. “Don’t even have instant.”
“Well, hell. No wonder you’re so grumpy,” Jared says cheerfully as he makes a quick assessment of the apartment, wondering how much of the mess he’ll be able to clean up before Jensen’s out of the shower. For usually being an anal neat freak, Jensen has made a surprisingly good job of turning his place into a pigsty. That more than anything tells the tale of how bad of a shape he’s in.
“Take your time, man,” Jared shouts in the direction of the bathroom as he starts stacking the pizza boxes. “Don’t want you out of there until you smell of spring and meadows again.”
He thinks he hears Jensen snort but in the state he’s in it might just as well have been a badly disguised burp.
“And brush your teeth!” he adds without thinking. Shit. “I mean… Never mind.”
The sound of water being turned on reaches him, and he breathes out. Maybe Jensen didn’t even hear him. After all he’d been far away, on the other side of a door, getting undressed…
The water is running.
Jared goes still.
Water. Soap. Jensen. Wet. Skin. Jensen. Wet Jensen. Wet naked Jensen.
His dick twitches.
He laughs nervously to himself. Oh, for Christ’s sake! Stop it! One drunken phone call, and he’s going all gay? And not only gay, a damn pervert too. Having wet dreams about Jensen kissing him and obsessing over Jensen naked. Next thing he’ll be imagining Jensen sucking cock every time he puts something in his mouth. Which is… God.
Jared groans. What the hell is wrong with him?
Angry he grabs the full bag of empties and carries it out to the trash along with the pizza boxes. Then he empties the ashtrays and washes them in the sink. He hates the smell of wet cigarette ash but at least the trays are empty and clean now. And hopefully Jensen’s run out of cigarettes as well.
Jared starts on the dishes, scraping off pieces of dried-out food and mold before dumping them back in the sink, the steam from the hot water enveloping his face in the sickly-sweet smell of decay. A glass half-filled with sour milk almost makes him gag. If Sandy could see this she’d never call him a pig again. Seriously, this is way worse than his apartment ever gets.
Wrinkling his nose Jared wonders how long Jensen has been like this. He’d last seen him on Thursday as they wrapped up for the long weekend, and he’d seemed alright then. Maybe a bit more quiet than usual, but to tell the truth he always gets like that when Sandy comes over. Jared’s just always thought it was because it meant they couldn’t hang out like usual, but now he’s starting to wonder if maybe it’s something else altogether.
“Do you ever think of me when you’re kissing her?”
A glass bowl slips from his soapy fingers, crashing down on the counter where it breaks into a million pieces, spitting them all over the goddamn kitchen. Without thinking he tries to catch a larger piece and then drops it quickly, blood springing out from a cut in his thumb. Fuck!
“Fuck! Shit! Goddamn hell!”
“Jesus. What the hell are you doing?”
He turns around, a heartbeat too late to shout out a warning before Jensen steps forward, feet bare and vulnerable. His eyes widen and then he’s stumbling back, sucking in his breath as he looks down in alarm. His feet leave bloody prints on the grey tiles. Jared reaches out, managing to catch Jensen’s arm right before he falls down. He steadies himself on one of the kitchen chairs with what he realizes a second later is his own injured hand. It stings like a bitch, but he pays it no mind, too worried about the gray color on Jensen’s face.
“Fuck, Jen. You… Fuck. I’m sorry. There was soap and… Damn.”
“It’s ok. It’s ok,” Jensen mumbles, allowing Jared to lower him down on the chair. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Can you keep your feet up while I clean the floor?” Jared asks, and Jensen nods dumbly.
Jared wraps a dishtowel around his finger before making his way carefully across the floor and to the cupboard where Jensen keeps his vacuum cleaner. His flip-flops don’t provide much of a protection but apart from a small sting at his right heel he manages to avoid cutting himself further. He keeps an eye on Jensen while he first picks up the larger shards and then vacuums up the rest before mopping up the blood, worried Jensen might do something stupid, like stand up to help or pass out face first on the floor. Thankfully he does neither, instead he sits still, eyes slightly vacant as he silently watches Jared work. When the floor is finally clean Jared turns to Jensen, crouching by his chair in concern.
“Hey, man, you alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Jensen says absentmindedly, looking down at Jared’s hands, cradling his feet. “What was that?”
“I dropped your big glass bowl. Sorry.” Jared frowns, studying the soles of Jensen’s bare feet. There are two rather large cuts on his right foot and one on his left, pieces of glass still sticking out of them. Plus dots of tiny crystals shallowly embedded all over the bloody surface. “Damn, we need to clean these.”
“I can…” Jensen begins and tries to stand up, but Jared pushes him down on the chair again.
“I just finished mopping your blood off the floor, dude. Once is enough. Be still.”
“Ok.”
He sounds dazed, the grayish tint still clinging to his skin. Jared shoots him another worried look before standing up and fetching the first aid kit. It takes him half an hour to clean and patch up Jensen’s feet and by the time he’s finished his own thumb is throbbing painfully. The whole while Jensen hasn’t said a single word, just flinched a few times when a piece of glass has proved exceptionally stubborn, and Jared has to dig it out with the tweezers.
“Ok, I think that’s it,” Jared finally says and stands up, swaying slightly from the sudden change in gravity. “Don’t think you should walk yet though. Where you want me to take you, bed or couch?”
Jensen blinks up at him and Jared suddenly realizes what he said. “Er… I mean, you don’t wanna sit here, do you?”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Couch,” Jensen finally says. “But you don’t have to…”
“Dude, shut up and let me do this.” Jared flexes his muscles mockingly and then leans over him, only to stop. “Uh… how do I do this?”
“I can…” Jensen starts and tries to stand up but sucks in his breath before falling back down on the chair. “Shit.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… put your arms around my neck.”
Jensen frowns at him. “What?”
“Your arms. Around my neck. C’mon.”
“You’re not carrying me like a fucking girl, Jare,” Jensen growls, finally seeming to wake up from his stupor. “Forget it.”
“Well, what do you suggest then, Jen? You can’t put your feet down, man. What you wanna do? Crawl in there?”
The stubborn look on Jensen’s face makes Jared roll his eyes in frustration. “You’re not crawling, you idiot.” Without waiting for further argument he slides one arm under Jensen’s knees and the other under his arms and then stands up before Jensen realizes what’s happening. “Now just hang on or I’ll drop you on your ass.”
“Jared! What the… Put me down! Goddammit, you can’t… Jesus!”
That last exclamation is followed by flailing as Jared stumbles slightly and then Jensen is clinging to him like a monkey, fingers digging into Jared’s shoulders so hard, he’s sure they’ll leave bruises.
“Ow! Dude, no claws! Stop it!”
“Then put me down, asshole! Now!”
“Not dropping you right here on the floor, moron,” Jared huffs. Fuck, Jensen is one heavy motherfucker. “Damnit, what have you been eating? Rocks? You weigh a fucking ton, man.”
“You calling me fat?” Jensen exclaims incredulous, voice slightly screechy. “I’m not fat! I’m muscular, you fucking bony sasquatch!”
There’s a moment of shocked silence, and then they both burst out laughing. Jared only just manages to reach the couch before he stumbles, crashing Jensen down on the soft cushions, his elbow barely missing Jensen’s crotch.
“Jesus Christ!” he gasps between guffaws as he slides to the floor, back leaning against the couch. “What was that?”
“I don’t know!” Jensen stares up at the ceiling, chest heaving with hiccupping laughter. “I’m blaming it on massive blood loss.”
Jared snorts. He can feel the warmth from Jensen’s skin where his forearm presses against Jared’s back, and when he shifts on the floor Jensen’s knuckles scrape his bicep. “Right. That whole teaspoon-worth of blood you lost.”
“Dude, that was a lot more than a teaspoon. That was… like a pint or something.”
“That why you almost fainted? Wuss.”
“I did not almost faint” Jensen huffs indignantly. “I’m just tired, dickhead. I’m sick, remember?”
Jared turns his head and smiles at him. The gray color is thankfully gone from Jensen’s cheeks, instead he’s flushed, and his eyes gleam with laughter. Amusement tugs at his lips, teeth biting into them to try and keep them from turning into a full-fledged grin. He looks…
It’s like a punch in Jared’s gut. One moment he’s just sitting there, happily watching Jensen and the next…
Oh.
It’s like a veil has suddenly been lifted from his eyes. He gets it now. Gets what makes crazy fangirls jump Jensen at conventions, and the slightly saner ones gush about him on social media. He gets what makes Megan flail every time she sees him, and Sandy blush when Jensen kisses her on the cheek.
It’s not like he’s never noticed that Jensen is attractive, he’d be blind not too. It’s just that… Well, it’s Jensen. The guy who scratches his balls when he thinks no one is looking and can burp the alphabet after two beers. Jensen, who is the best friend Jared’s ever had and the most talented guy he knows. Jensen, who is, above all, a guy, and therefore not really qualified to register on Jared’s sexual radar.
Except suddenly he is. Just. Like. That.
Jared blinks to find Jensen looking at him, all laughter gone from his eyes, and he realizes he must have given something away, somehow. The urge to flee is so strong, his knees twitch, but he forces himself to stay still on the floor, giving Jensen a small smile.
“You hungry?” he says, voice only hitching slightly. “I could order something.”
Jensen looks for a moment like he wants to say something but then he nods and sinks back on the pillows, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Just… not pizza.”
Jared laughs and moves to pull his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. With a hiss he withdraws his hand and looks down at it. The dishtowel is soaked through with blood and his hand hurts like a bitch. “Fuck.”
“What?” Jensen mumbles and forces one eye open then sits up in alarm. “Jesus, Jare. You alright?”
“Yeah. I just… Must have been deeper than I thought. Wait here,” he says and stands up. He feels slightly nauseated and dizzy but he’s not about to let Jensen see that.
He grabs the first aid kit from the kitchen table on his way to the bathroom, then sits down on the toilet and unwraps his finger, hissing as it reveals a deep cut in the hollow part between his thumb and index finger. Doesn’t look like it damaged anything since he can still flex his finger, and he doesn’t think it needs stitches. If he can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be alright. But damn that’s a lot of blood…
“Jare? C’mon, Jare. Wake up.”
“Huh?” Jared opens his eyes. Jensen is gazing down at him, face lined with worry. “What happened?”
“Now who’s the wuss?” Jensen says, but the relief in his voice is evident. “You passed out, man. I just heard a crash and found you lying here like a sack of potatoes.”
“You’re not supposed to be walking,” Jared mumbles and struggles to sit up. “Your feet, they’re all fucked up.” His head feels funny, and the room seems to be spinning.
“You’re fucked up, Jare,” Jensen snorts and shakes his head, helping him. “Now you’ve got a bump on your head too. When you gonna stop hurting yourself, huh?”
“Why did you leave that message on my voicemail?” Jared asks back, trying to shake away the clouds in his brain.
Jensen freezes, his hands still wrapped around Jared’s biceps. Jared looks up, confused, and it hits him what he just said. “I mean… shit. I think I might have a concussion,” he blurts out in panic.
Jensen is staring at him, his grip tightening, and then he suddenly lets go, shuffling backwards, face closed off. “We should have you looked at, just to be sure,” he says, voice flat. “And your hand might need stitches.”
He struggles to his feet, wincing as they touch the floor. It must have hurt like hell for him to walk from the living room and to the bathroom, and that realization is what helps Jared make up his mind.
“My hand is fine. My head is fine. I’m just dizzy because apparently, I’m the wuss. Jen…” he says, reaching out for Jensen and only just catching him by the wrist. “Wait.”
“I’ll call a cab,” Jensen says and tries to tug his arm free.
“No. I’m alright. Jen…” Jared loses his grip as Jensen snatches his hand away, pulling it close to his chest as he starts out the door. “Dammit, Jensen, will you stop running away from me!”
Jensen stops, his whole body seeming to vibrate with tension. Everything seems to freeze for a second, and then Jensen’s shoulders suddenly slump, and he turns around. “I’m not…” He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I was drunk, ok? I didn’t know what I was saying.”
Jared shakes his head. “I don’t believe you. Yeah, alright, yes, you were obviously drunk. But I think you knew exactly what you were saying. And I think you meant it.”
“Jare…”
“Don’t lie to me, man.” Jared suddenly feels so very tired. “Not you. And not to me. That’s not who we are.”
Jensen bites his lip. His eyes flicker from the floor to the mirror and back again. “Then who are we?” he finally says. “What are we? I mean… if I say yes, I did mean what I said, it’s gonna fuck everything up. I can’t… Fuck, Jare, just forget it, ok?”
Jared swallows. “Who says it has to fuck everything up?”
The low laughter is anything but merry. “C’mon, man. Don’t act like you don’t care.”
“Care about what? That you’re gay?” Jared shakes his head angrily. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Shit, Jen, who the hell do you think I am?”
“It’s not…” Jensen closes his eyes, breathing in deeply before he opens them again, looking weary and defeated. “I know you’re not like that. It’s just… Jared, you’re my best friend, you know that.”
“Yeah, well, I thought I was,” Jared huffs. “Until I found out my best friend doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me he’s gay. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel?”
Jensen blushes. “I’m more bi… I mean, I’ve had girlfriends. I like women. I’m not…”
“Dude, whatever.” Jared would roll his eyes if he wasn’t feeling so damn dizzy. “Gay, bi, it still doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t tell me, man.”
“I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t…” Jensen hesitates. “Look, I didn’t think you’d freak out about me liking guys. That wasn’t it.”
“What was it then?”
“I thought you’d freak out about me liking you,” Jensen says quietly.
Jared breathes out. Now that it’s confirmed, he feels oddly calm about the whole thing. “Ok,” he says. “I get that. And you weren’t wrong. I kinda did, you know, freak out when I heard your message. Because I had no idea.”
Jensen nods, his shoulders slumping even further. He looks utterly defeated. “I wasn’t gonna tell you. I just got so damn drunk. I’m sorry. It’s all my fucking fault.” He rubs his face tiredly. “So, now what? Maybe we can, I don’t know, ask Kripke if he can send Dean on a solo road trip or something. Then you don’t have to…”
Jared blinks. “What are you on about?”
“Look, it’s ok. I get it. You’re freaked and this thing changes everything. I’ll talk to Eric and…”
“I’m not freaked.”
Jensen sighs. “Jare, you just told me you are. It’s ok. You’ve got every right…”
“Jen, shut up. I said I freaked out when I heard your message. That was like two days ago.” Jared waves his hand dismissively. “I’m over it. The freaking out part, I mean.”
“What?”
“I’m over it. No more freaking out. So, you like me.” He shrugs. “That’s alright. Lots of people like me.”
“Erm… You do realize when I say ‘like you’ I mean…”
“You mean you wanna bend me over and fuck me. Yeah, I got that. I’m not stupid, you know.” Jared gets slowly to his feet. He still feels faintly dizzy and his head is throbbing. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been agonizing over this for two years, Jen.”
Jensen blinks. “Uhm…”
“Jesus.” Jared shakes his head in exasperation. “You should have just told me and we could have skipped this whole bloody mess. And I mean that literally,” he adds and points down. “Damn it, Jen, your feet are bleeding again.”
Jensen looks down. “Only a little.” He raises his head again. “You’re the one dripping blood all over my bathroom floor, jerk,” he says, nodding towards Jared’s hand.
“Well, help me fix it, bitch,” Jared says and sits down on the toilet seat. “The least you can do for perving over my sweet ass for two years without even telling me.”
“Christ, man,” Jensen laughs, his face blushing deep red as he reaches for the first aid kit. “Shut up.”
“Sweet talk will get you nowhere,” Jared says with a grin and then spends the next ten minutes trying not to pass out again while Jensen cleans his wound and wraps gauze and tape around his thumb. Ok, so seeing his own blood kinda makes him feel a little bit woozy. So what?
“I still think we should have you looked at. That bump on your head is quite impressive.”
“I’m fine. I feel a lot better already.” He stands slowly up and this time the room stands still. “See? I’m good. We should eat something. Not pizza,” he adds with a smirk.
“Not pizza,” Jensen agrees and shudders.
He allows Jared to help him back to the couch, hobbling on his injured feet. Jared lets him lie down, and then he checks the soles of Jensen’s feet, pretending not to notice the faint intake of breath as he cradles them gently in his hands. Jensen has nice feet, he finds himself noticing. They’re soft, the skin only slightly thickened at the heels. He wonders what they’d feel like, nudging his own under the covers.
“I need to change the dressing here but otherwise you’re fine,” he says and stands up, fetching the first aid kit from the bathroom. They should just start having one in every room, he thinks, and then realizes that sounds like they’re living together. Well, for all the time they spend together they might as well be. It’s never struck him as odd before, and now it’s all he can think about, how nice it would be to just have Jensen there, all the time.
Jensen keeps still as Jared changes the dressing, eyes closed where he rests against the pillows. When he’s done Jared calls for Chinese, letting Jensen sleep until the food arrives. They eat in silence, the sight of Grissom stoically solving some gross murder case on TV doing nothing to diminish their appetite.
“You want to watch a movie?” Jared asks when he’s dumped the empty containers in the trash.
“Sure.”
Jensen seems drained but the wariness is gone from his eyes, and he looks almost peaceful.
“Or we can talk,” Jared suggests quietly. He expects Jensen to stiffen but he just stares at the TV for a moment and then nods.
“Yeah, ok.”
Jared sits back down on the couch, figuring it will be easier to talk if they’re not facing each other, but to his surprise Jensen turns and plants his bandaged feet in Jared’s lap, eyes studying him thoughtfully.
“There have been times I thought you knew,” Jensen says, face flushing slightly. “I mean, you would look at me and…” He shrugs. “And you kept touching me, like all the time. But then I realized you do that with everyone.”
“Not everyone,” Jared says lamely. “Not… Eric.”
Jensen chuckles. “No. Not Eric. But that’s just because he looks scared to death every time you try.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Jared averts his eyes, absently rubbing Jensen’s toes between his fingers. “Look, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. It wasn’t like that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, even if I’d known you were gay, or bi, whatever, I probably would have been just the same.”
Jensen sighs. “I know, Jare.”
“And you’re wrong, it’s not the same with everyone. You’re not everyone, Jen. You’re… special.”
Jensen snorts, and Jared smiles. “Shut up. I mean it; you are. If it hadn’t been for this gig we never would have met.” Another snort, and Jared flips Jensen a finger. “Ok, so we probably would have met at some point, being in the same business and all, but we might never have gotten to know each other the way we do.” He takes a deep breath. “And that kinda scares me. Because I can’t really imagine my life without you.”
He glances up at Jensen but Jensen is busy studying his hands, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in small circles. It’s a habit he has when he’s nervous, usually during interviews or when girls hit on him. That he’s doing it now, because of Jared… It’s just not right.
“This… thing, it doesn’t change that,” Jared says gently. “Nothing could change that, Jen. You know that, right?”
Jensen nods, nibbling at his lips. “Yeah,” he finally says, his voice low and hoarse. “Yeah, I know. Now. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure before but now I am.”
“Good.” Jared runs his thumb down the row of toes on Jensen’s right foot, smiling when it twitches. They sit in silence for a while; Jensen still rubbing his fingers together while Jared rubs his toes. They really are nice, Jensen’s toes.
It’s getting dark outside, and Jared wonders what time it is. He’s starting to feel sleepy, the last couple of nights catching up on him. He should go home, but he doesn’t really want to move. Maybe Jensen will let him crash on his couch.
“So what did I say?” Jensen suddenly asks, rousing Jared awake. “The message, I mean.”
“You don’t remember?”
“Not really. I didn’t… It wasn’t anything pornographic, was it?” Jensen blushes, his fingers rubbing together faster and faster. Jared has to fight the urge to grab his hand and still them.
“No. Not porny at all. You asked…” Jared chuckles softly. “You asked if I ever thought about you when I was kissing Sandy.”
“Oh God.” Jensen’s fingers finally stop their rubbing, his hands too busy covering his face. “No wonder you freaked out,” he mumbles from between his fingers, shoulders shaking as he laughs in embarrassment.
Jared hesitates but then he says, “Yeah, that wasn’t really what freaked me out.”
“Oh God,” Jensen’s head drops even further. “Please tell me I didn’t say something even worse.”
“No, that was it.”
Jensen peeks from between his fingers. “Then what freaked you out?”
“Well, after that I kinda did think of you, every time I kissed her.”
Jensen goes completely still, and then slowly he lowers his hands. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
He starts pulling his feet from Jared’s lap, but Jared holds them still, shaking his head. “It’s ok.”
“No. Shit. You know I love Sandy, man. She’s wonderful. I didn’t mean to… Fuck.”
“I know. It’s ok.” Jared takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t really that either, you know, that freaked me out.”
“Ok, Jare, now you’re freaking me out,” Jensen laughs nervously.
Jared ignores him. “It was more the fact that I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. That… That freaked me out.”
Jensen freezes. “Oh,” he finally says.
“Yeah.”
“But you said… You’re over it, right? Which is good because…”
“I said I was over freaking out. I never said I was over wanting to kiss you.”
Jensen stares at him. “You’re straight, Jare,” he finally croaks out. “So don’t go saying stuff like that. You can’t… You can’t say stuff like that to me.”
Jared frowns. “Since when do you have a monopoly on wanting to kiss guys?”
“It’s not a joke, Jare. Not to me.”
“Dude, am I laughing?” Jared throws up his hands in annoyance. “I’m kinda having a small sexual crisis here, and you’re being an ass about it.”
“I’m not… What, you find out I want to kiss you, and just like that you turn bi?” Jensen sucks in a trembling breath, lips thinning. “Don’t be stupid, Jare.”
“I’m not the one being stupid, Jen, you are.”
Silence. “You have a girlfriend.” Less anger now and more… sadness.
Jared drops his gaze, looking down at Jensen’s feet still resting in his lap. “I know, I haven’t forgotten. I’m not saying I’m gay or bi or whatever, I’m just…”
He strokes along Jensen’s ankle, breathing slowly as he tries to gather his thoughts. Everything he comes up with sounds stupid, even to him. He doesn’t know how to explain it; he doesn’t even know what it is he’s trying to explain. He just knows he has to, somehow, make Jensen understand.
“I had this dream. Where you… you kissed me. And we did… other stuff.” He hears Jensen groan. “And it felt… it was just…” Taking a deep breath he finally looks up, holding Jensen’s gaze. “It felt right.”
Jensen closes his eyes for a second, swallowing. When he opens them again they look very tired and very old. “It doesn’t mean anything, Jare. It was a dream. In real life… it wouldn’t be the same.”
“I hope not. I kinda don’t want Sandy coming through that door with a chainsaw.”
Jensen chuckles, but it sounds pained. “No, you wouldn’t want that.”
He pauses, tongue slipping out to lick his lips as his eyelashes slowly sweep his cheeks. It’s such an unconscious thing, so innocent in its nervousness, that Jared feels his heart skip a beat. It’s not that he reads everything Jensen does as sexual all of a sudden, it’s more that he’s seeing what it actually is. Not sexual at all. Just… Jensen. Everything… it’s just Jensen. With his quirks and ticks, nervous habits and ways to deal with his own shyness, and the whole world looking at him. Biting his lips and peeking out through the shade of his eyelashes. Ducking his head as if that can hide him from the cameras. Smiling stiffly and dropping deadpan jokes that don’t require him opening up enough to really laugh. No act at all, just Jensen.
As if he can hear Jared’s thoughts, Jensen suddenly looks up, and there’s no shyness now, no awkward hesitation in his eyes, just determination.
“Jared, you can do stuff in dreams that you’d never do otherwise,” he says calmly, a dismissive tone in his voice that makes Jared feel cold, “because it doesn’t matter, and you don’t have to deal with the consequences. Which us really kissing would have plenty of. It’s not the same.”
“I know. I’m just…”
Jensen shakes his head. “No. You love Sandy.’
“Yeah, but…”
“No, Jared.” This time Jared doesn’t try to stop him when Jensen pulls his feet away. He wraps his arms around his knees protectively, chin propped up on them as he gazes sadly at Jared. “Look, I get it. You’re having your moment of sexual curiosity. Everyone does. But even if you weren’t with Sandy… You can’t use me to explore it.”
Jared is taken aback. “Use you? Jen, you already told me you want it. And hey, you were the one who brought it up, made me think of it.”
“I know. And if you want to blame me, that’s fine. But…” Jensen breathes in and then slowly out before looking Jared straight in the eye. “Jared, I didn’t just drunk dial any guy because I was feeling sad and lonely. I called you.”
Jared frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“You want to go gay for a weekend or whatever, then fine.” Jensen shrugs even if the tension in his jaw is anything but carefree. “That’s between you and Sandy. But you can’t do it with me.”
“Why?”
“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”
Jared stares at him, blinking. He’s obviously missing something. Jensen wants him, they’ve already established that, but now he’s saying they can’t go there, even if Jared decided to. “Why?” he finally repeats, feeling increasingly stupid.
Jensen gazes at him, as if he’s not sure if Jared’s playing him or if he’s really that thick. Finally he sighs and looks briefly away before fixing his eyes on Jared again.
“How would you feel if Sandy called right now and told you it’s over, that she was only sleeping with you, because she wanted to try having sex with a Sasquatch?”
Jared decides to let the Sasquatch thing go for now, at least while he’s trying to figure Jensen out. “I’d be angry. And feel hurt and used, because I love-” He stops, eyes widening as Jensen raises one eyebrow. “Oh.”
Jensen’s smile looks sad and tired. “Yeah.”
“You don’t just like me.” It’s not a question.
“No.”
“You… like me.”
Jensen’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yes.”
“Oh.”
Jared looks down at his hands. His thumb and index finger start rubbing together in tiny fast circles. Huh, it actually is soothing. In an OCD kind of way.
“How long?” he finally asks, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jensen shrug. His heart plummets. “Please don’t say two years. Please don’t say that.”
“Ok, I won’t say it.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” Jensen’s voice shakes, just a little.
Two years. Two years of being in love with someone who’s too stupid to even notice, Jared thinks. God, he’s such a moron. It’s a wonder Jensen hasn’t laid one on him ages ago.
“So why… What made you…?” He finally manages to look up at Jensen. “I mean, why now?”
Jensen shrugs again but his lips are thin. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” Jared insists, because he needs to know, needs to understand what he did to make Jensen feel so bad he’d thrown all pretense to the wind and drunk himself into a stupor.
Jensen’s quiet for a moment, but then the words suddenly come rushing out, as if they’re too embarrassing to deserve pauses for air. “Shannon said you’d been asking about her engagement ring. She got the impression you were planning to pop the question. To Sandy, I mean. So, I kinda… freaked out. Which apparently involved getting very drunk and very stupid.” He stops and pulls in a deep breath, face red and lips twitching nervously.
Huh. Jared had been interested but not because he was planning on shopping one. It had just been nice seeing Shannon so happy and so he’d asked her about it and the upcoming wedding, enjoying listening to her enthusiastic ramble.
“No. I wasn’t. I’m not. We’re not…” He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why?” Jensen asks, sounding suddenly annoyed. “How long you been together now, Jare? Three years? Isn’t it about time?”
Jared looks at him, surprised. “Dude, I’m only twenty-five. Why would I want to get married?”
“Duh, I don’t know,” Jensen says sarcastically. “Because you love her? Because you want to make an honest woman out of her?”
Jared can’t help laughing at that. “If Sandy got more honest, I’d be scared, man. That girl is not afraid to speak her mind.”
Jensen huffs, for once not joining in on the joke. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know. And it’s still stupid. Yes, I love her, but…” Jared sighs. He’s had this conversation often enough with his mother, he didn’t expect to have to take this crap from Jensen as well. “I live here nine months out of the year, Jen. She lives in LA. She has her friends and work there. I have mine here. Getting married… It would just be strapping us down in a way that would never work.”
Jensen just shakes his head. “It’s not shackles, Jared, whatever they say. Not like you’re going to prison.”
“It would still change everything. If we were married… I’d want my wife to live with me, not in a different city, like now, sharing a place with girlfriends. Just like I’m pretty sure she’d want her husband to sleep in bed with her every night, not on the other side of the continent. And right now, it’s just not possible. Hell, as long as we have this gig it won’t be.”
“You can’t put your life on hold, season after season,” Jensen argues, stubborn as hell. “Dude, we might be doing this for another two, three, or god forbid, five years.”
“I’m not putting my life on hold, man. I’m living it the way I want to. And so is she.” Jensen’s attitude is really starting to grate him. One minute he’s saying he wants in Jared’s pants, the next he’s trying to push Jared down the aisle with Sandy against his will! “I know people think it’s weird, but we’re just not… we really don’t want to be married. I guess…” He shrugs. “I guess we want to keep our options open.”
“Like going gay for a few days,” Jensen says sarcastically. “Well, that’s awfully Hollywood of you. Sure that’s what Sandy had in mind?”
“Stop it!” Jared snaps, but Jensen just glares at him defiantly. They’re both getting angry now, and it feels all wrong. Why are they fighting? They never fight. What the fuck is Jensen’s problem anyway? “You know, maybe I’m like you. Maybe I’m bi and I just never realized it because…” He swallows, all anger draining out of him as the answer he’s been looking for suddenly becomes clear. “Because there wasn’t anyone to be bi for. Until you.”
Jensen rolls his eyes, but when he answers there’s a tremble to his voice. “So now you’re going from straight to gay to bi to Jensen-sexual? Man, you’d give Freud a run for his money.”
“Doubt it, seeing as he’s dead.” Jared sighs. “Jensen, why are you being like this?”
The sarcastic look on Jensen’s face melts away, and after a moment’s pause he answers quietly, “Because you’re being cruel.”
“I’m being cruel? Dude, what? You’re the one...”
“You’re putting my hopes up,” Jensen shoots back. “That’s cruel. You’re making me think I might have a chance when we both know I don’t. You’re with Sandy, Jared. And even just contemplating this is not fair on her. Or me.”
Oh. Jared stills. He really doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t think of it like that but Jensen’s right. He is being cruel, not consciously, but still. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t do anything.” Jensen looks away, his jaw set. “Forget it. All of it. We’ll just go to work tomorrow and be like always and… Yeah. That’s it.”
“I can’t just…” Jared shakes his head. “My stuff, yeah. I can deal with that on my own if that’s what you want. But, Jen, you’re miserable. Because of me! I mean, how am I supposed to just let that go?”
“I’m not miserable,” Jensen says, annoyed. “I just had a down moment. I’m ok, really.”
“Don’t lie to me, man. You’re not ok. How can you be ok? You’ve been in love with me for two years, and I never even noticed, and now you know I know… I’m not stupid, dude, I know it’s got to be killing you.”
Jensen shrugs, but his lips are a thin line, and Jared can already feel him shutting him out. “I can handle it. I always do.”
There’s something so final about that sentence that Jared doesn’t know what to say. They sit in silence, Jensen staring down at his hands, Jared watching Jensen for any hint to what he’s supposed to do now. Finally, he sighs and quietly gets up from the couch.
“You need help getting to bed?” he asks awkwardly, indicating Jensen’s feet.
Jensen shakes his head. “I’ll manage,” he says and finally looks up, but it’s with a stiff smile and blank eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, sure… yeah.” Jared swallows. “Jen, are you…”
“Go home, Jared,” Jensen sighs. “Get some sleep.”
Jared stands still, feeling for the first time ever as if he’s not wanted in Jensen’s home. That he’s being kindly but firmly pushed away and out of the apartment. He gets this irrational fear that it really means Jensen is pushing him out of his life, that if he walks out that door that’s the end of everything.
“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly. “I don’t want… I mean, I can’t…”
“Jare,” Jensen cuts him off, gently. “We’re ok.”
“Are we?”
“We will be.”
That’s all he is offered, and he takes it greedily, terrified that Jensen is wrong.
Continued here.