FIC: Never Will Run Smooth (Part Two)
Back to Part One.
"So it's Jensen now, is it?" Dr. Farrand looked at her notes. "Why the switch?"
"It's my name."
"It's what your mother always called you," his therapist corrected. "I understand why you'd-"
"Yeah, and it's not a big deal." The sullen twenty year old decisively closed that door. Sometimes the look on Dr. Farrand's face made Jensen think he was one of her more frustrating patients. Personally he wasn't so conceited.
"You're right," she was humoring him. "What does your dad think about it?"
"He doesn't care." Dr. Farrand didn't need to know that Dad had started calling him Jensen too. He wasn't even sure who started it.
"How are classes?" She switched attacks on a dime.
"Easy." Jensen had backtracked. His courses weren't holding his focus, and when he sat for hours in his campus suite just staring at the walls, nothing was getting accomplished. This semester, the second since his mom's funeral, brought a lighter load. Random classes meant to give him some breathing room, draw him out of the funk.
"And what about Jared?"
Jensen's back went ramrod straight in the lounge chair. He let Dr. Farrand ask him anything, poke and prod with words and carefully structured questions, but Jared was the one thing he'd rather hide than tell.
"You've thought about him a lot since your mom passed."
"She kept bringing him up." That was true enough. The longer his mom was in the hospital, the more the memories seemed to surface. And Jared Anderson was a memory Jensen had buried deep down.
"He was important."
He wanted to say that Jared was more important than she'd ever realize, but it wasn't her place to know. That sort of thing wasn't done anymore and Jensen wasn't going to open his family, and Jared's, to ridicule now.
"But it goes beyond that, doesn't it? Your dad mentioned that you found some old pictures of Jared and his family when you were going through your mom's things."
Jensen had found pictures, and letters. Old contracts drawn between friends with as much legal footing as a kid's lemonade stand. One picture in particular that sent such warm feelings through Jensen, he'd immediately pocketed the print. He had lost Jared for so many years, the memory misplaced by a young boy who hadn't known how to mourn his best friend. Maybe now he would be able to find him again.
He wasn't sure how much his dad told Dr. Farrand. Whatever she thought, Jared wasn't an imaginary friend. He was always there in Jensen's mind, waiting in his journal when he got home from class. And despite Dr. Farrand's three-quarter hour attempts, Jared was the only one he ever felt like talking to.
But that day, Dr. Farrand asked the one question Jensen's dad had been avoiding.
"Does it help?"
"Yeah." Jensen's eyes focused. "It does."
* * *
On Wednesday night, the first thing he sees when he pushes through the Porthouse's heavy oak door is Jay's big smile. Dimples and genuine happiness finding Jensen across the uncrowded room. No band tonight to draw the party crowd, just regulars staked out in their favorite corners and booths.
Mona's working the half full bar and Jay's stacking glasses. His palms are heated from the steaming, freshly washed glasses when he grabs Jensen's hand over the counter.
"Hey, man." Jay lets him go, pulling a box off the end of the bar and offering the spot to Jensen. "It's gonna be quiet here tonight and I can probably get off early."
There's another invitation in that and Jensen nods, takes the pint Jay produces and settles on a stool. The nervous chatter starts as soon as Jensen swallows.
"We didn't really get a chance to talk much at the coffee shop, but I'm glad I met up with you. Was a little worried you wouldn't come back here after-"
"Jay." He covers the bartender's hand with his. "The reason I left that night wasn't because I didn't care. Believe me, I know how much waking up after a night like that sucks. I was just trying to help."
"Oh-I mean, I think I knew that."
"Good." Jensen grins. "'Cause I just want to spend time with you. It's been a little crazy so far."
"Good." Jay echoes. He holds up a glass of Coke. "And I promise, no more passing out. No alcohol, just caffeine."
Jay serves the few customers that Mona can't handle. And he talks, nervous rambling settles into story-telling. Jensen listens carefully to every detail-how Jay moved around the country with his aunt and uncle, the way he's been able to pay his way through school-and shares a few of his own, loving the way Jay takes it all in. Most of his dates don't get anything beyond his name and his body, and the apathy is usually mutual. This kind of focus, keen and genuine interest, fills his heart. A place that hasn't been stimulated in years.
He stands taller tonight, Jensen notices, resolve or ease straightening his spine. Jay hunches to talk to Jensen, creating a private place for them at the bar while everyone else passes by. Finally, Mona's got the place in hand and she flicks Jay with a towel to hurry his ass out the door. Jensen's laughing and Jay's nursing his abused leg, scowling at his coworker while he cleans up and clocks out.
They drive this time, no chance to talk across the five blocks between the Porthouse and Jay's place. The clutter when they walk inside is familiar, if haphazardly cleaned up since the last time. They're close together in the tiny hallway.
Jay looks straight into Jensen's eyes. "Want a beer?"
"Not really."
"Okay."
The move is Jensen's this time. He presses his lips against Jay's-a threshold kiss-and persuades gently. Nothing desperate, no tongue-to-tonsils race. More like the first kiss they were meant to have. Butterflies fluttering in Jensen's stomach, eyes closed, and hands eager to find where on Jay's body they'll fit best.
Hips to start, when Jensen opens his mouth enough to pull at Jay's lower lip. Then the small of Jay's back to reel him deeper. Finally wrapped all the way around as Jay angles down and presses his tongue into Jensen's mouth.
When he leans away their noses bump and Jay laughs, the best sound Jensen's heard all week. Jay grabs his hand and suddenly they're back on the couch.
"How about a movie?" Jensen suggests, more than willing to take this as slow as Jay-
But Jay pulls him forward-that's a no on the movie-and picks up where the previous kiss left off. It hardly matters but Jensen knows Jay was telling the truth-he's certainly not a virgin in everything. The way he fits his body around Jensen's, moving them down on the cushions without breaking their kiss. His tongue rolls with Jensen's, and suddenly Jensen is the one out of his depth. Jay infuses one kiss with more passion and intent than Jensen spends on a dozen meaningless flings. In this, he's the novice and Jay is leading him. Every time Jensen tries to slow the pace, Jay steps it up. There's no arguing with the press of Jay's hips or the way in which his hands slip under Jensen's shirt and find ticklish skin.
It's all so insistent that Jensen starts wondering if Jay's pushing himself through it. The last thing Jay seems to want to do is stop and think.
But you can't put a block on thoughts. Jensen's tried unsuccessfully. They get the better of Jay when he gasps against Jensen's lips and breaks off. He's propped on his elbows, expression shifting as if he's fighting with himself. Whatever this is, it isn't about Jensen, so he keeps his hands where they're lightly stroking Jay's sides, a reminder that he's there no matter how the internal struggle ends up.
"Can I," Jay starts, pinning his audience of one. "I need to tell you something."
"You already told me-"
"It's not about that." Jay shakes his head. "Well, sort of."
He sits back on his heels and pulls Jensen up. The silence goes on long enough that Jensen thinks this is it. Jay won't meet his eyes and as important as this feels, Jensen's heart can't take the beating of another rejection from this guy.
"Jay, I want you to like me."
"Jensen, that's not-"
"Let me be close to you, please. Don't pull away." Jensen shifts closer to add physical weight to the words.
He thinks he might have missed something crucial because Jay smiles soft and sincere. "I'm not trying to. Jensen, you're the first one-"
"First one of what?"
"The first person I've even considered sharing this with," Jay answers. "And I think I owe you the truth for all the chances you've given me, the way you kept trying, even after..." He lets that thought slip away and picks up a new thread. "My parents-they died in a car crash when I was almost six."
Saying 'I'm sorry' might be cliche, but Jensen knows what it's like to lose a parent. In the rest of his life, Jensen will never find anything to fill that particular void-no one can. But he keeps hold of Jay's hand, thumb moving against the soft skin. Jay reaches behind him and grabs a small box that was camouflaged by various papers, another piece of the cluttered chaos. Inside are more papers, but they way Jay touches the contents signifies something much more meaningful.
"I didn't get some of their things until high school, and I found a box with my mom's books and keepsakes." Jay handles the folded papers with a delicate touch, so much more precious than simple stock and ink. "She wrote me letters-telling me about my family, where we lived. And she wrote about the guy I was supposed to grow up and marry-everything she knew about him."
"A betrothal?" Jensen almost chokes. "You were-"
"Crazy, huh? His family was close to ours. I can remember a bit from when I was little, you know." Jay's eyes cloud over with happier memories. "A birthday here and there, presents. Big trips, but I'm fuzzy on the details."
"Do you remember the other boy?"
"Sometimes I think I do. I had no idea he was-" Jay pauses. "How do you explain that to a kid?"
Jensen doesn't know the answer to that. His parents hadn't told him until it was no longer a possibility. Jared had already been gone when his mom told him exactly who his best friend was meant to be.
"But she wrote that he was such a nice boy, and he loved me even then-she could tell, I guess. He brought me gifts all the time, always played with me even though I was a few years younger than he was. My mom said that no one could put a smile on my face like he could, and that it went both ways. And we-"
They were supposed to get the same ever after that was ripped away from Jensen. He looks at Jay and he can see Jared's young smile, innocent and happy.
And then, the lines of time start to blur. He looks at Jay-and he can see Jared. More than just an illusion; features blend together until the reality smacks Jensen in the face.
"God-it all sound ridiculous, doesn't it?" Jay laughs, but Jensen's gone still as a statue. "But we were meant for each other back then and maybe he's still out there. That's why I never-well, it wasn't 'saving myself' so much as it was just hoping."
Jensen can hardly force the words out of his throat.
"What was his name?"
Jay smiles fondly. "His name was JR."
The earth should stop spinning. The sky should fall and the ground should shake. But the clock on the wall chimes midnight and Jay-Jared, Jay-keeps talking to him.
And Jensen can see that Jay doesn't even realize....
Jay looks over at him and seems to shake himself out of his wistfulness. The story is achingly familiar. Only backwards from that which Jensen's been telling himself for years. Jay is hanging onto his memory-the possibility-with everything he's got. But Jensen lost his future, fucking away his affections ever since.
"I didn't have much to hold onto after my parents died, so maybe I took the letters too seriously. And it's silly, right?" Jay doesn't notice that Jensen's barely breathing any longer, mistaking shock for attention. "It's a fantasy, something I don't need to be connected to anymore. I should just do this and get it over with."
Right there, Jensen's heart breaks. Jay looks so ready, willing to throw away something he's wanted for years just because the world deems it 'silly'. Trusting Jensen with a gift that has unknowingly been his all along.
"Jensen?"
He's muttering to himself, oblivious to Jay's face crashing from hope to dejection. Jensen has no idea what he can say, how he's supposed to tell Jay that the man he's holding onto is gone. Jared Anderson's best friend doesn't exist anymore. Settling for Jensen-scarred and neurotic-really is settling for someone so much less worthy.
Jay's face falls and it's as if all the muscles in his body go heavy.
"I thought-" he sighs. "You think it's pathetic."
"No." Jensen verbally stumbles. "No Jay, I don't-you should..." And it occurs to him that he can't fix this. Jay's looking at him like he expected this all along even though Jensen knows he felt otherwise. Resigned and devastated. Jensen is making it worse.
Not knowing what else to do, Jensen stands then slides his hand gently across Jay's cheek. He sees the boy he used to know, big eyes looking up at him, and he tries to convey all the affection and regret he's unable to voice.
"I have to go."
"Jensen, wait!"
"I can't-" Jensen turns away and drags himself to the door.
"Please."
Jay's plea follows him out the door, but he's already gone.
* * *
Jared Anderson is alive.
Jared is alive.
No matter how many times Jensen says it, he can't believe it. Jay had grown up with his aunt and uncle, the Padaleckis-they must have gotten custody of Jared after the car accident. And no one knew he was still alive.
Jensen gets pissed with Jay's aunt and uncle for not telling any of the Anderson's former friends that the little boy was alive. Then he's angry with himself for not noticing sooner, and for handling the situation poorly. He's even pissed at Jared for a few minutes-at Jay-for throwing this at him. For daring to hold onto a memory so tightly and then-
But he can't be mad at Jay. One look at Jared's photograph beside his bed and he remembers that Jay's not the only one holding onto the past in order to make it through the present.
Jay. Jared.
JR may have been meant for Jared, but Jay was looking for someone else. Jensen is inadequate, tarnished by exposure. If Jay had never known about JR, never told Jensen, maybe things would be fine. Jensen could have evolved and become someone Jay wanted-loved. But he knows who Jay really wanted.
He can't sit and think anymore. No sleep last night, barely going through the motions at work for the rest of the week. He has the sudden urge to talk to someone because he's getting nowhere. And only one sounding board is remotely appealing.
So he calls Christian.
"Damn, Jen."
The exasperation comes after a few minutes of silence. Jensen's told him most of what there was to tell. Ancient history and the not-so-ancient.
"Yeah."
"I mean, that's crazy. You couldn't make that shit up."
"Glad you fucking believe me."
"Man, it's not that." Christian's laugh trails off. "So when are you gonna tell the kid?"
The silence gives his answer.
"You're not plannin' to. Jesus. I've said it before, but you're a bastard."
"It's the right thing to do."
"Bullshit it is." Christian hisses. "He deserves to hear it."
"Doesn't matter."
"Shut up." He's quiet for a moment. "Now that you know all this, have you stopped liking the guy?"
Jensen knows the answer. He hasn't stopped thinking about Jay since Wednesday night. Wistful, like the loss of something great.
"I knew it. So none of this other shit matters. Maybe you should go see him. He works Friday nights, right?"
"Chris..."
"I'm serious. I saw how Jay looked at you, it ain't nothing for him either. I've been your friend for too long to let you pass this up. All the others-yeah, they were good times, but you need something real, Jen. You need him. If he confessed all that to you, I'm thinkin' he needs you too."
He could make a joke. Laugh and ask when Christian grew up and got so wise. But his friend's been the smarter one as long as Jensen's known him. And Christian's always read him better than anyone.
"I fucked up." Jensen admits.
"Yeah," Christian agrees, but his tone is warm instead of harsh. "Take a couple days, think about it and decide what you want. Really decide, because I know that if you walk away from this guy right now, you won't get a do-over. And Jen, don't make me take matters into my own hands."
Fate, destiny, or good old cosmic chance brought Jared back to him once. Jensen knows Christian is right-he won't be so lucky the next time.
* * *
"This is a horrible idea."
"Settle down, I ain't taking you to the Porthouse if that's what you're thinkin'." Christian grumbles in the driver's seat.
They don't usually go out on Sunday nights, but after radio silence for most of the weekend, Christian showed up on Jensen's doorstep and practically forced him off the couch and out of his pajamas.
"Just wanted to get you out of that funk, have a few drinks and chill."
Jensen snorts. He needs more than liquor and music to drag him from his funk.
Everything about McDaniel's is familiar. The polished mahogany and clean leather booths, everyone dolled up like it's a special occasion. Jensen blends with all of them, designer jeans and an ironed shirt proclaiming he belongs. He may look the part, but he doesn't feel it. Christian's trying his best, plying him with fancy beers and pointing out the hottest potentials in the place. But even his friend picks up on this look in his eyes, desperate to be anywhere else.
"I'm sorry, man." Christian sighs, watching the girl Jensen's just politely declined walk away. "I figured you might be like this."
"You could have left me alone."
"I really couldn't. You thought anymore about what I said?"
Jensen looks at him. Christian already knows he's done nothing but think all weekend. "A little."
"And?"
He glances around the bar, everyone in their element so polished and pristine. No beat up wood under his fingers, telling the tale of lives lived and connections made. The conversations around him are planned out, boring in their repetition.
"I don't want this, Chris."
"The beer?" Christian is smirking. "The questions?"
"This." He lifts his bottle and motions around the room. "I don't think this is my scene anymore." For better or worse, he thinks.
Instead of shaking his head or looking disappointed, Christian actually smiles, relief clear on his face. "What the hell gave you the first clue? The fact that you're bored outta your mind, or that you can't stop thinking about the kid?"
Jensen glares at him.
"I'm just sayin'. It's about time you woke up." Christian finishes his beer and flags the waitress for another. "Just so you know, that feeling goes both ways."
Jensen stands and pulls out his wallet, throwing down a folded twenty to cover his drinks. "The hell are you talking about?" Christian looks away, the first clue that something's up. "Chris, what'd you do?"
"Steve, the guitarist from the Porthouse? He invited me there on Friday night to check out some of his new material." Christian's almost blushing and that's a rare sight, but it doesn't distract Jensen.
"And?"
"And I may have talked to Jay a little bit."
Jensen doesn't say anything. He wants to be pissed that Christian meddled, but it's Christian. From the look on his face, he was trying to do Jensen a favor.
"What did you tell him?"
"Not everything. I didn't want you tryin' to kill me."
"Chris..."
"I know, but come on. The kid looked as miserable as you, and when I told him-"
Jensen groans. Of course Christian spilled.
"He needed to know why you left him, and I think y'all can move past it."
"Easy for you to say."
"Yeah, it is, because it's what you need to do. Jen-"
Jensen doesn't turn around. He walks out of McDaniel's before he can break down and force Christian to tell him exactly what happened.
* * *
He's still in a daze when he walks into his apartment. The television holds no appeal and staring at the blank walls gets him nowhere.
Aimless, Jensen grabs a can of soda-no mind for sleep-and wanders into his bedroom. The picture of Jared stuck in a frame catches his eye and he lowers himself onto the mattress.
"So this has gotten pretty messed up, huh?" He asks the photograph. Young Jared still smiles, no idea what kind of revelations lay in store. "You know, I used to imagine what you'd be like when you grew up. You were so generous, even as a kid. Some things never change, I guess. You liked me more than your blanket."
There's no logic to it, but Jared's smile lightens his heart. He can see Jay's smile too.
"You were always the one I could talk to, and now...now I'm not sure what to do."
"You can talk to me."
Jensen whips around and Jay's standing in his doorway looking halfway to heartbroken. And halfway to sleep-baggy track pants and a long sleeved t-shirt telling Jensen that someone called Jay out of bed.
"Jay-"
"Your door was unlocked, and Christian called to tell me-" Jay sighs.
Somehow Jensen's not entirely surprised Jay is here. Even less surprised that Christian had something to do with it. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you-I didn't know until...."
"I know." With nothing close to anger on Jensen's face, Jay's safe to side beside him. His eyes shift sadly between the photograph and Jensen. "And I think I know exactly what you want to say to me, but don't."
"I'm not the guy in your mom's letters."
Jay's body is warm, residual heat from being tucked under blankets. "Jensen." He pushes his left hand under Jensen's right, links their fingers together. "You need to believe me when I say I don't care."
The caffeine in the soda isn't having much of an effect; suddenly Jensen's tired. He lists a little to the left and Jay pulls him back against the support of his shoulder-Jay smells like instant coffee and toothpaste. He has to process Jay's words, tests the weight of the palm pressed to his.
"Your name was Jared Anderson and you were my best friend," Jensen whispers. Jay stays silent, tightening his fingers around Jensen's. "And then you were gone so suddenly, I didn't know what to do. I thought you were coming back...fuck. I was just a kid, Jay. I didn't understand what it meant when my parents said you died. I never got to-and then..."
"And then your mom passed away." Jay's voice is barely any louder than Jensen's. "I was so young when my parents died, but I can't imagine what you went through having to watch her suffer."
He's had years to mourn, so the mention of Mom doesn't hurt him as much as it could.
"I got a little crazy after that," Jensen continues, words coming out like they'll never get another opportunity. "First I didn't do anything, and then I tried to do everything. When that didn't work I settled into this...I don't know, this monotonous fog. It never felt right. The routines were just something I used to get through the days."
Jay's expression is sympathetic, but so fucking kind, and Jensen wonders again if he's worthy of such a person. There's evidence to the contrary, and he wants to confess it all.
"I've been kind of a slut, Jay. But not anymore."
"You're not a slut, don't-" Jay interrupts, laying a soft kiss to Jensen's temple, breathing him in deep as Jensen had done only moments ago. He can't smell good, beer and bars and self-pity don't mix, but Jay's not moving, just whispering close. "Maybe you were just searching a different way. Look at me-I did exactly the opposite and wasn't any happier. I'm just glad that we stopped for each other."
It makes sense-and maybe Jay's the only one who can ever make sense of this.
"Are you waiting for JR to come back?"
Jay finally smiles, a sight Jensen's unknowingly been desperate for. "I think I'm starting to fall for someone else. I don't need that guy anymore. I want to take a chance with this one."
Jay's kiss feels like the end of a movie-that one perfect moment when you realize everything's going to work out no matter what stands in the way. Soft lips touch from the corner of Jensen's mouth to the curve of his bottom lip. Warm tongue making the inside of Jensen's mouth tingle, and he pushes back. Jay kisses like he knows Jensen, and in a way, he knows him better than just about anyone. Minutes tick away while they're locked together, hands stroking in sleepy patterns, letting their worries and cares drift away for the time being.
When Jensen pulls back-not too far that he can't feel Jay's breath on his face-he recognizes the hope in Jay's expression. Big, hazel eyes look back, so similar to the bright eyes that had looked up at him twenty years ago. JR and Jared aren't gone forever.
He takes Jay's hands again, curls their fingers together. This time, Jensen knows he's getting something much better than a juice box.
And he's never letting go.
FIN.
notes. Okay, so this wasn't really the story I planned to tell. Months ago, I watched Sleeping Beauty and wanted to write a different sort of fic about a betrothed couple where nothing went right. That sort of happened here ;) Originally I had intended for it to be more angsty, with Jensen and Jay messed up from the cards life dealt them. But, alas. Then I saw the prompts for spn_meanttobe and this one almost perfectly fit what I wanted to do.
So, loosely based on 1) Sleeping Beauty 2) My prompt 3) Some really really really strange place in my head. I apologize that it was almost late, and thank you so much to jumpuphigh who took a look at it tonight! All mistakes are definitely mine [and feel free to let me know so I can FIX, PLEASE!]. The photos used are SO DAMN CUTE stock images from getty. Thank you to the wonderful ladies who ran the challenge not only for putting it together, but for extending the deadline!
Feedback is MORE than welcome! All my other stories can be found H E R E.
"So it's Jensen now, is it?" Dr. Farrand looked at her notes. "Why the switch?"
"It's my name."
"It's what your mother always called you," his therapist corrected. "I understand why you'd-"
"Yeah, and it's not a big deal." The sullen twenty year old decisively closed that door. Sometimes the look on Dr. Farrand's face made Jensen think he was one of her more frustrating patients. Personally he wasn't so conceited.
"You're right," she was humoring him. "What does your dad think about it?"
"He doesn't care." Dr. Farrand didn't need to know that Dad had started calling him Jensen too. He wasn't even sure who started it.
"How are classes?" She switched attacks on a dime.
"Easy." Jensen had backtracked. His courses weren't holding his focus, and when he sat for hours in his campus suite just staring at the walls, nothing was getting accomplished. This semester, the second since his mom's funeral, brought a lighter load. Random classes meant to give him some breathing room, draw him out of the funk.
"And what about Jared?"
Jensen's back went ramrod straight in the lounge chair. He let Dr. Farrand ask him anything, poke and prod with words and carefully structured questions, but Jared was the one thing he'd rather hide than tell.
"You've thought about him a lot since your mom passed."
"She kept bringing him up." That was true enough. The longer his mom was in the hospital, the more the memories seemed to surface. And Jared Anderson was a memory Jensen had buried deep down.
"He was important."
He wanted to say that Jared was more important than she'd ever realize, but it wasn't her place to know. That sort of thing wasn't done anymore and Jensen wasn't going to open his family, and Jared's, to ridicule now.
"But it goes beyond that, doesn't it? Your dad mentioned that you found some old pictures of Jared and his family when you were going through your mom's things."
Jensen had found pictures, and letters. Old contracts drawn between friends with as much legal footing as a kid's lemonade stand. One picture in particular that sent such warm feelings through Jensen, he'd immediately pocketed the print. He had lost Jared for so many years, the memory misplaced by a young boy who hadn't known how to mourn his best friend. Maybe now he would be able to find him again.
He wasn't sure how much his dad told Dr. Farrand. Whatever she thought, Jared wasn't an imaginary friend. He was always there in Jensen's mind, waiting in his journal when he got home from class. And despite Dr. Farrand's three-quarter hour attempts, Jared was the only one he ever felt like talking to.
But that day, Dr. Farrand asked the one question Jensen's dad had been avoiding.
"Does it help?"
"Yeah." Jensen's eyes focused. "It does."
* * *
On Wednesday night, the first thing he sees when he pushes through the Porthouse's heavy oak door is Jay's big smile. Dimples and genuine happiness finding Jensen across the uncrowded room. No band tonight to draw the party crowd, just regulars staked out in their favorite corners and booths.
Mona's working the half full bar and Jay's stacking glasses. His palms are heated from the steaming, freshly washed glasses when he grabs Jensen's hand over the counter.
"Hey, man." Jay lets him go, pulling a box off the end of the bar and offering the spot to Jensen. "It's gonna be quiet here tonight and I can probably get off early."
There's another invitation in that and Jensen nods, takes the pint Jay produces and settles on a stool. The nervous chatter starts as soon as Jensen swallows.
"We didn't really get a chance to talk much at the coffee shop, but I'm glad I met up with you. Was a little worried you wouldn't come back here after-"
"Jay." He covers the bartender's hand with his. "The reason I left that night wasn't because I didn't care. Believe me, I know how much waking up after a night like that sucks. I was just trying to help."
"Oh-I mean, I think I knew that."
"Good." Jensen grins. "'Cause I just want to spend time with you. It's been a little crazy so far."
"Good." Jay echoes. He holds up a glass of Coke. "And I promise, no more passing out. No alcohol, just caffeine."
Jay serves the few customers that Mona can't handle. And he talks, nervous rambling settles into story-telling. Jensen listens carefully to every detail-how Jay moved around the country with his aunt and uncle, the way he's been able to pay his way through school-and shares a few of his own, loving the way Jay takes it all in. Most of his dates don't get anything beyond his name and his body, and the apathy is usually mutual. This kind of focus, keen and genuine interest, fills his heart. A place that hasn't been stimulated in years.
He stands taller tonight, Jensen notices, resolve or ease straightening his spine. Jay hunches to talk to Jensen, creating a private place for them at the bar while everyone else passes by. Finally, Mona's got the place in hand and she flicks Jay with a towel to hurry his ass out the door. Jensen's laughing and Jay's nursing his abused leg, scowling at his coworker while he cleans up and clocks out.
They drive this time, no chance to talk across the five blocks between the Porthouse and Jay's place. The clutter when they walk inside is familiar, if haphazardly cleaned up since the last time. They're close together in the tiny hallway.
Jay looks straight into Jensen's eyes. "Want a beer?"
"Not really."
"Okay."
The move is Jensen's this time. He presses his lips against Jay's-a threshold kiss-and persuades gently. Nothing desperate, no tongue-to-tonsils race. More like the first kiss they were meant to have. Butterflies fluttering in Jensen's stomach, eyes closed, and hands eager to find where on Jay's body they'll fit best.
Hips to start, when Jensen opens his mouth enough to pull at Jay's lower lip. Then the small of Jay's back to reel him deeper. Finally wrapped all the way around as Jay angles down and presses his tongue into Jensen's mouth.
When he leans away their noses bump and Jay laughs, the best sound Jensen's heard all week. Jay grabs his hand and suddenly they're back on the couch.
"How about a movie?" Jensen suggests, more than willing to take this as slow as Jay-
But Jay pulls him forward-that's a no on the movie-and picks up where the previous kiss left off. It hardly matters but Jensen knows Jay was telling the truth-he's certainly not a virgin in everything. The way he fits his body around Jensen's, moving them down on the cushions without breaking their kiss. His tongue rolls with Jensen's, and suddenly Jensen is the one out of his depth. Jay infuses one kiss with more passion and intent than Jensen spends on a dozen meaningless flings. In this, he's the novice and Jay is leading him. Every time Jensen tries to slow the pace, Jay steps it up. There's no arguing with the press of Jay's hips or the way in which his hands slip under Jensen's shirt and find ticklish skin.
It's all so insistent that Jensen starts wondering if Jay's pushing himself through it. The last thing Jay seems to want to do is stop and think.
But you can't put a block on thoughts. Jensen's tried unsuccessfully. They get the better of Jay when he gasps against Jensen's lips and breaks off. He's propped on his elbows, expression shifting as if he's fighting with himself. Whatever this is, it isn't about Jensen, so he keeps his hands where they're lightly stroking Jay's sides, a reminder that he's there no matter how the internal struggle ends up.
"Can I," Jay starts, pinning his audience of one. "I need to tell you something."
"You already told me-"
"It's not about that." Jay shakes his head. "Well, sort of."
He sits back on his heels and pulls Jensen up. The silence goes on long enough that Jensen thinks this is it. Jay won't meet his eyes and as important as this feels, Jensen's heart can't take the beating of another rejection from this guy.
"Jay, I want you to like me."
"Jensen, that's not-"
"Let me be close to you, please. Don't pull away." Jensen shifts closer to add physical weight to the words.
He thinks he might have missed something crucial because Jay smiles soft and sincere. "I'm not trying to. Jensen, you're the first one-"
"First one of what?"
"The first person I've even considered sharing this with," Jay answers. "And I think I owe you the truth for all the chances you've given me, the way you kept trying, even after..." He lets that thought slip away and picks up a new thread. "My parents-they died in a car crash when I was almost six."
Saying 'I'm sorry' might be cliche, but Jensen knows what it's like to lose a parent. In the rest of his life, Jensen will never find anything to fill that particular void-no one can. But he keeps hold of Jay's hand, thumb moving against the soft skin. Jay reaches behind him and grabs a small box that was camouflaged by various papers, another piece of the cluttered chaos. Inside are more papers, but they way Jay touches the contents signifies something much more meaningful.
"I didn't get some of their things until high school, and I found a box with my mom's books and keepsakes." Jay handles the folded papers with a delicate touch, so much more precious than simple stock and ink. "She wrote me letters-telling me about my family, where we lived. And she wrote about the guy I was supposed to grow up and marry-everything she knew about him."
"A betrothal?" Jensen almost chokes. "You were-"
"Crazy, huh? His family was close to ours. I can remember a bit from when I was little, you know." Jay's eyes cloud over with happier memories. "A birthday here and there, presents. Big trips, but I'm fuzzy on the details."
"Do you remember the other boy?"
"Sometimes I think I do. I had no idea he was-" Jay pauses. "How do you explain that to a kid?"
Jensen doesn't know the answer to that. His parents hadn't told him until it was no longer a possibility. Jared had already been gone when his mom told him exactly who his best friend was meant to be.
"But she wrote that he was such a nice boy, and he loved me even then-she could tell, I guess. He brought me gifts all the time, always played with me even though I was a few years younger than he was. My mom said that no one could put a smile on my face like he could, and that it went both ways. And we-"
They were supposed to get the same ever after that was ripped away from Jensen. He looks at Jay and he can see Jared's young smile, innocent and happy.
And then, the lines of time start to blur. He looks at Jay-and he can see Jared. More than just an illusion; features blend together until the reality smacks Jensen in the face.
"God-it all sound ridiculous, doesn't it?" Jay laughs, but Jensen's gone still as a statue. "But we were meant for each other back then and maybe he's still out there. That's why I never-well, it wasn't 'saving myself' so much as it was just hoping."
Jensen can hardly force the words out of his throat.
"What was his name?"
Jay smiles fondly. "His name was JR."
The earth should stop spinning. The sky should fall and the ground should shake. But the clock on the wall chimes midnight and Jay-Jared, Jay-keeps talking to him.
And Jensen can see that Jay doesn't even realize....
Jay looks over at him and seems to shake himself out of his wistfulness. The story is achingly familiar. Only backwards from that which Jensen's been telling himself for years. Jay is hanging onto his memory-the possibility-with everything he's got. But Jensen lost his future, fucking away his affections ever since.
"I didn't have much to hold onto after my parents died, so maybe I took the letters too seriously. And it's silly, right?" Jay doesn't notice that Jensen's barely breathing any longer, mistaking shock for attention. "It's a fantasy, something I don't need to be connected to anymore. I should just do this and get it over with."
Right there, Jensen's heart breaks. Jay looks so ready, willing to throw away something he's wanted for years just because the world deems it 'silly'. Trusting Jensen with a gift that has unknowingly been his all along.
"Jensen?"
He's muttering to himself, oblivious to Jay's face crashing from hope to dejection. Jensen has no idea what he can say, how he's supposed to tell Jay that the man he's holding onto is gone. Jared Anderson's best friend doesn't exist anymore. Settling for Jensen-scarred and neurotic-really is settling for someone so much less worthy.
Jay's face falls and it's as if all the muscles in his body go heavy.
"I thought-" he sighs. "You think it's pathetic."
"No." Jensen verbally stumbles. "No Jay, I don't-you should..." And it occurs to him that he can't fix this. Jay's looking at him like he expected this all along even though Jensen knows he felt otherwise. Resigned and devastated. Jensen is making it worse.
Not knowing what else to do, Jensen stands then slides his hand gently across Jay's cheek. He sees the boy he used to know, big eyes looking up at him, and he tries to convey all the affection and regret he's unable to voice.
"I have to go."
"Jensen, wait!"
"I can't-" Jensen turns away and drags himself to the door.
"Please."
Jay's plea follows him out the door, but he's already gone.
* * *
Jared Anderson is alive.
Jared is alive.
No matter how many times Jensen says it, he can't believe it. Jay had grown up with his aunt and uncle, the Padaleckis-they must have gotten custody of Jared after the car accident. And no one knew he was still alive.
Jensen gets pissed with Jay's aunt and uncle for not telling any of the Anderson's former friends that the little boy was alive. Then he's angry with himself for not noticing sooner, and for handling the situation poorly. He's even pissed at Jared for a few minutes-at Jay-for throwing this at him. For daring to hold onto a memory so tightly and then-
But he can't be mad at Jay. One look at Jared's photograph beside his bed and he remembers that Jay's not the only one holding onto the past in order to make it through the present.
Jay. Jared.
JR may have been meant for Jared, but Jay was looking for someone else. Jensen is inadequate, tarnished by exposure. If Jay had never known about JR, never told Jensen, maybe things would be fine. Jensen could have evolved and become someone Jay wanted-loved. But he knows who Jay really wanted.
He can't sit and think anymore. No sleep last night, barely going through the motions at work for the rest of the week. He has the sudden urge to talk to someone because he's getting nowhere. And only one sounding board is remotely appealing.
So he calls Christian.
"Damn, Jen."
The exasperation comes after a few minutes of silence. Jensen's told him most of what there was to tell. Ancient history and the not-so-ancient.
"Yeah."
"I mean, that's crazy. You couldn't make that shit up."
"Glad you fucking believe me."
"Man, it's not that." Christian's laugh trails off. "So when are you gonna tell the kid?"
The silence gives his answer.
"You're not plannin' to. Jesus. I've said it before, but you're a bastard."
"It's the right thing to do."
"Bullshit it is." Christian hisses. "He deserves to hear it."
"Doesn't matter."
"Shut up." He's quiet for a moment. "Now that you know all this, have you stopped liking the guy?"
Jensen knows the answer. He hasn't stopped thinking about Jay since Wednesday night. Wistful, like the loss of something great.
"I knew it. So none of this other shit matters. Maybe you should go see him. He works Friday nights, right?"
"Chris..."
"I'm serious. I saw how Jay looked at you, it ain't nothing for him either. I've been your friend for too long to let you pass this up. All the others-yeah, they were good times, but you need something real, Jen. You need him. If he confessed all that to you, I'm thinkin' he needs you too."
He could make a joke. Laugh and ask when Christian grew up and got so wise. But his friend's been the smarter one as long as Jensen's known him. And Christian's always read him better than anyone.
"I fucked up." Jensen admits.
"Yeah," Christian agrees, but his tone is warm instead of harsh. "Take a couple days, think about it and decide what you want. Really decide, because I know that if you walk away from this guy right now, you won't get a do-over. And Jen, don't make me take matters into my own hands."
Fate, destiny, or good old cosmic chance brought Jared back to him once. Jensen knows Christian is right-he won't be so lucky the next time.
* * *
"This is a horrible idea."
"Settle down, I ain't taking you to the Porthouse if that's what you're thinkin'." Christian grumbles in the driver's seat.
They don't usually go out on Sunday nights, but after radio silence for most of the weekend, Christian showed up on Jensen's doorstep and practically forced him off the couch and out of his pajamas.
"Just wanted to get you out of that funk, have a few drinks and chill."
Jensen snorts. He needs more than liquor and music to drag him from his funk.
Everything about McDaniel's is familiar. The polished mahogany and clean leather booths, everyone dolled up like it's a special occasion. Jensen blends with all of them, designer jeans and an ironed shirt proclaiming he belongs. He may look the part, but he doesn't feel it. Christian's trying his best, plying him with fancy beers and pointing out the hottest potentials in the place. But even his friend picks up on this look in his eyes, desperate to be anywhere else.
"I'm sorry, man." Christian sighs, watching the girl Jensen's just politely declined walk away. "I figured you might be like this."
"You could have left me alone."
"I really couldn't. You thought anymore about what I said?"
Jensen looks at him. Christian already knows he's done nothing but think all weekend. "A little."
"And?"
He glances around the bar, everyone in their element so polished and pristine. No beat up wood under his fingers, telling the tale of lives lived and connections made. The conversations around him are planned out, boring in their repetition.
"I don't want this, Chris."
"The beer?" Christian is smirking. "The questions?"
"This." He lifts his bottle and motions around the room. "I don't think this is my scene anymore." For better or worse, he thinks.
Instead of shaking his head or looking disappointed, Christian actually smiles, relief clear on his face. "What the hell gave you the first clue? The fact that you're bored outta your mind, or that you can't stop thinking about the kid?"
Jensen glares at him.
"I'm just sayin'. It's about time you woke up." Christian finishes his beer and flags the waitress for another. "Just so you know, that feeling goes both ways."
Jensen stands and pulls out his wallet, throwing down a folded twenty to cover his drinks. "The hell are you talking about?" Christian looks away, the first clue that something's up. "Chris, what'd you do?"
"Steve, the guitarist from the Porthouse? He invited me there on Friday night to check out some of his new material." Christian's almost blushing and that's a rare sight, but it doesn't distract Jensen.
"And?"
"And I may have talked to Jay a little bit."
Jensen doesn't say anything. He wants to be pissed that Christian meddled, but it's Christian. From the look on his face, he was trying to do Jensen a favor.
"What did you tell him?"
"Not everything. I didn't want you tryin' to kill me."
"Chris..."
"I know, but come on. The kid looked as miserable as you, and when I told him-"
Jensen groans. Of course Christian spilled.
"He needed to know why you left him, and I think y'all can move past it."
"Easy for you to say."
"Yeah, it is, because it's what you need to do. Jen-"
Jensen doesn't turn around. He walks out of McDaniel's before he can break down and force Christian to tell him exactly what happened.
* * *
He's still in a daze when he walks into his apartment. The television holds no appeal and staring at the blank walls gets him nowhere.
Aimless, Jensen grabs a can of soda-no mind for sleep-and wanders into his bedroom. The picture of Jared stuck in a frame catches his eye and he lowers himself onto the mattress.
"So this has gotten pretty messed up, huh?" He asks the photograph. Young Jared still smiles, no idea what kind of revelations lay in store. "You know, I used to imagine what you'd be like when you grew up. You were so generous, even as a kid. Some things never change, I guess. You liked me more than your blanket."
There's no logic to it, but Jared's smile lightens his heart. He can see Jay's smile too.
"You were always the one I could talk to, and now...now I'm not sure what to do."
"You can talk to me."
Jensen whips around and Jay's standing in his doorway looking halfway to heartbroken. And halfway to sleep-baggy track pants and a long sleeved t-shirt telling Jensen that someone called Jay out of bed.
"Jay-"
"Your door was unlocked, and Christian called to tell me-" Jay sighs.
Somehow Jensen's not entirely surprised Jay is here. Even less surprised that Christian had something to do with it. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you-I didn't know until...."
"I know." With nothing close to anger on Jensen's face, Jay's safe to side beside him. His eyes shift sadly between the photograph and Jensen. "And I think I know exactly what you want to say to me, but don't."
"I'm not the guy in your mom's letters."
Jay's body is warm, residual heat from being tucked under blankets. "Jensen." He pushes his left hand under Jensen's right, links their fingers together. "You need to believe me when I say I don't care."
The caffeine in the soda isn't having much of an effect; suddenly Jensen's tired. He lists a little to the left and Jay pulls him back against the support of his shoulder-Jay smells like instant coffee and toothpaste. He has to process Jay's words, tests the weight of the palm pressed to his.
"Your name was Jared Anderson and you were my best friend," Jensen whispers. Jay stays silent, tightening his fingers around Jensen's. "And then you were gone so suddenly, I didn't know what to do. I thought you were coming back...fuck. I was just a kid, Jay. I didn't understand what it meant when my parents said you died. I never got to-and then..."
"And then your mom passed away." Jay's voice is barely any louder than Jensen's. "I was so young when my parents died, but I can't imagine what you went through having to watch her suffer."
He's had years to mourn, so the mention of Mom doesn't hurt him as much as it could.
"I got a little crazy after that," Jensen continues, words coming out like they'll never get another opportunity. "First I didn't do anything, and then I tried to do everything. When that didn't work I settled into this...I don't know, this monotonous fog. It never felt right. The routines were just something I used to get through the days."
Jay's expression is sympathetic, but so fucking kind, and Jensen wonders again if he's worthy of such a person. There's evidence to the contrary, and he wants to confess it all.
"I've been kind of a slut, Jay. But not anymore."
"You're not a slut, don't-" Jay interrupts, laying a soft kiss to Jensen's temple, breathing him in deep as Jensen had done only moments ago. He can't smell good, beer and bars and self-pity don't mix, but Jay's not moving, just whispering close. "Maybe you were just searching a different way. Look at me-I did exactly the opposite and wasn't any happier. I'm just glad that we stopped for each other."
It makes sense-and maybe Jay's the only one who can ever make sense of this.
"Are you waiting for JR to come back?"
Jay finally smiles, a sight Jensen's unknowingly been desperate for. "I think I'm starting to fall for someone else. I don't need that guy anymore. I want to take a chance with this one."
Jay's kiss feels like the end of a movie-that one perfect moment when you realize everything's going to work out no matter what stands in the way. Soft lips touch from the corner of Jensen's mouth to the curve of his bottom lip. Warm tongue making the inside of Jensen's mouth tingle, and he pushes back. Jay kisses like he knows Jensen, and in a way, he knows him better than just about anyone. Minutes tick away while they're locked together, hands stroking in sleepy patterns, letting their worries and cares drift away for the time being.
When Jensen pulls back-not too far that he can't feel Jay's breath on his face-he recognizes the hope in Jay's expression. Big, hazel eyes look back, so similar to the bright eyes that had looked up at him twenty years ago. JR and Jared aren't gone forever.
He takes Jay's hands again, curls their fingers together. This time, Jensen knows he's getting something much better than a juice box.
And he's never letting go.
FIN.
notes. Okay, so this wasn't really the story I planned to tell. Months ago, I watched Sleeping Beauty and wanted to write a different sort of fic about a betrothed couple where nothing went right. That sort of happened here ;) Originally I had intended for it to be more angsty, with Jensen and Jay messed up from the cards life dealt them. But, alas. Then I saw the prompts for spn_meanttobe and this one almost perfectly fit what I wanted to do.
So, loosely based on 1) Sleeping Beauty 2) My prompt 3) Some really really really strange place in my head. I apologize that it was almost late, and thank you so much to jumpuphigh who took a look at it tonight! All mistakes are definitely mine [and feel free to let me know so I can FIX, PLEASE!]. The photos used are SO DAMN CUTE stock images from getty. Thank you to the wonderful ladies who ran the challenge not only for putting it together, but for extending the deadline!
Feedback is MORE than welcome! All my other stories can be found H E R E.