Some Things Stay the Same (2 of 3)
part one | master post
~~~
The past is kind of a blur. Jensen figures it's that way for most people. He remembers he was about nine when things changed at home. It was the year his aunt died and his mom wasn't the same after that.
He knows he was fifteen when he lost his virginity. What Jensen remembers most about that blessed event is that he sat through Reality Bites three times before he earned enough points with Linda Phillips to slide into home base. She was a sophomore. He was still a freshman and the first of his friends to get laid. That definitely gave him bragging rights, and he didn't restrain himself from the bragging. She didn't really talk to him after that.
For the life of him, Jensen can't remember the first time he met Jared. Must have been somewhere around the block, maybe when Jared was wiping out on that skateboard of his. Or maybe they met through Jared's older brother, but Jensen never got along with the student government types so that doesn’t seem likely.
Jensen was very concerned back then with his image. Nothing was more important than playing it cool. Hanging out with the middle-school kid from down the street definitely didn't earn him any bragging rights. Just the opposite. Jared was clumsy and kind of nerdy; he talked too much and ran funny. He outgrew his jeans with such frequency he probably heard "expectin' a flood, boy?" more times than even he could count.
By the time they spent that first summer driving down to Storey's Theater to see Speed (three times, but Jensen didn't get into anybody's pants off that one), and probably every other movie they showed, Jensen would have been fifteen and newly de-virginized, which would have put Jared at about twelve.
It was innocent of course. Jared was just a kid and Jensen far from admitting, even to himself, that he was more of a Keanu guy than a Sandra guy. But somehow their friendship felt more illicit than anything else Jensen had going, including the pot smoking and petty larceny that pretty much defined the rest of his teenage experience.
One hot and humid August day, he tapped out a beat on the steering wheel of his mom's Camry and cut his eyes to Jared. "We saw Forrest Gump already."
"Just once."
"That's one time too many."
"But Natural Born Killers looks stupid."
Jared was full of shit and Jensen not at all opposed to calling him on it. "Afraid you'll have nightmares, baby-boy?" He taunted. "Don't worry. Mommy'll make it all better with warm milk and homemade cookies."
"Fuck you." Jared slumped back in the passenger seat and glared. "My mom's cookies are awesome."
"So it'll totally be worth it, then."
"Whatever. I'll watch it."
"I ain't skeered." Jensen sing-songed a fairly on-point imitation of Jared's young voice.
"Did I mention fuck you?"
"Did I mention that you sound like a foulmouthed chipmunk when you say 'fuck you'?"
"Yeah, but you didn't mention that you say 'foulmouthed' like an old woman."
"Maybe I am an old woman."
"What does that even mean?"
Jared had a ridiculous seizure of a laugh that seemed too big for his body to hold. Maybe one day he'd grow into it but until that day everyone in his vicinity just had to deal with the fact that it might knock him over and damage anyone in its path.
It was contagious, too. "I have no idea." Jensen laughed as he lead-footed the gas and swerved the car just to freak Jared out.
"God, don't get a ticket," Jared screeched. "You're not even supposed to be driving."
"Chill, butt-munch. I've got a permit."
"I can't believe your parents let you drive by yourself."
"I've got a passenger, it's totally cool."
"Dude, I'm twelve."
"So?"
"I don't count." Jared's voice filled the car, loud and high-pitched, and Jensen smirked.
"Why are you riding in a car with me if it's so dangerous?"
"I don't know." Jared huffed out a breath, all petulant put-upon preteen attitude. "My parents'll have a litter if they find out."
"And my parents don't give a fuck. So there you go."
He shouldn't have brought his parents up. It always soured the mood, pissed him off and made Jared go quiet. But they got to the theater and Kristen let them in the side door as usual and it was soon forgotten. It was good to have friends in high places and Jensen gave Kristen an ass-pat for her troubles as they headed in to take their seats. Flirting with Kristen was fun. She was singularly immune to his charms, which was more of a relief than anything.
Jared thanked her like the well-raised boy he was. She ruffled his hair like she always did and warned them not to get caught because it was her job on the line.
"Yeah, you wouldn't want to be fired from serving popcorn with extra butter to fat, greasy assholes," Jensen told her.
"Then who would let you two psychos in for free?"
"The lady has a point."
Jensen raised his hands to concede defeat. "I'm outnumbered."
Kristen was the only person who knew that Jensen hung out with the kid from down the street. She thought it was sweet, like he was some Big Brother of America volunteer or some shit. She was cool, though. Jensen trusted her not to tell.
If Natural Born Killers gave Jared nightmares, he never mentioned it. And if it bothered Jensen that his parents didn't give a fuck, he never mentioned that. His mom and dad had their own issues and Jensen had figured out years before that the best he could do was carve out his own space alongside them, live his life, and wait it out.
His brother had left home the year before and his kid sister, Mac, seemed to be doing okay. Dad tried his best with her and Jensen figured staying scarce and not diverting attention was all he could do to help. Staying scarce was easy. Mom barely looked up from the shopping channel or the OJ trial or whatever thing was occupying her at the moment to pay any of them much mind at all.
It must have been the summer after that, probably about three in the morning, when Jensen made it back from Steve's and headed to Jared's back yard instead of his own, slid down against the wall and passed out in a heap. He assumed he was in the vicinity of Jared's window. It was pretty stupid but he was pretty wasted. And lucky the next morning when Jared was the one who found him.
He woke up spluttering against the splash of water being poured down on him and Jared snapping fingers in his face.
"Jensen. Wake up. Jensen."
"Shh," Jensen protested. "Some of us are trying to sleep."
"What are you doing here?"
Jensen slumped forward and grabbed Jared by his t-shirt. "Steve's party last night was off the chain."
"Dude, did you get high?"
"Yessssss." Jensen tried to smile but he felt it die on his face. The high had worn off and he mostly felt sick. "I think I'm gonna puke."
"Come on." Jared pulled him up and half-dragged him into the house. "My parents left for work already. You can sleep it off in here."
"You're awesome."
"I know."
"Seriously." Jensen slung his arm around Jared's bony shoulders. "You're like my best friend. Even though you're just a kid."
"I'm thirteen."
"Kid."
"You didn't drive in that condition did you?"
"Yes, Grandma, but I drove very, very slowly."
"Fuck, Jensen. You have to promise me you won't do that anymore, okay?"
"What? No way. I ain't promisin' shit."
Jared pulled Jensen down the hall to his room. "Don't make me give you the whole driving under the influence speech. I saw a video at school." His face was pinched and his voice was thin and tight. Jensen didn't have the will to deal with it.
"Fine."
"Fine, what?"
Jensen plopped down on Jared's bed and crossed his finger over his chest. "Cross my heart. No more drugging and driving."
"Or drinking and driving"
"Ditto that."
Jared may have been the only person who cared enough to give him the speech, but once Jensen made the promise he kept it. Over the years, he crashed in some strange places, and there were a few dodgy rides with strangers, but he did keep his word to Jared.
That was the year they saw Babe, too. Jensen remembers because Jared cried like a little girl. Jensen wasn't about to cry over a pig and made a point of taking Jared out to Smoky Bones for Bar-B-Q after. He didn't have much cash and Jared refused to ditch the check, so they gorged themselves on soup and salad, which sort of defeated the purpose, but it wasn't the first or last time Jensen fell victim to his own piss-poor planning.
"Today," Jared declared. "The pigs are safe from us."
"That'll do, pig."
Jared was summertime. He was movies and stale popcorn, and fighting over music in the car - Dr. Dre or Ace of Bass. He was skateboards and ice-cream and sun-pink skin.
None of it felt weird, but Jensen knew it should. It was weird enough that he kept it a secret. His parents didn't care. He didn't know if Chris and Steve and those guys wondered how he spent his days when he wasn't working whatever part-time job he could scrounge up. But they didn't know about his house, either, and the piles and piles of things that filled it up and kept the rest of the world away, his mother's own personal cocoon. A distinct lack of parental concern wasn't uncommon among his group of friends.
By the time the next summer rolled around, Jared's parents knew he was hanging out with Jensen most days. They knew Jensen took him to the movies and came over to play Nintendo while they were at work. Jensen even met them once or twice, very carefully said, "Hello, Mrs. Padalecki, how was your day?"
"You're a regular Eddie Haskell," Jared told him one day after his mom passed through the living room on her way to the kitchen.
Jensen punched him in the arm, laughed when he squirmed away. "Your parents are weird."
"No, my parents are normal." Jared leaned over the space between them to look him in the eye. "You come from the family of weirdos. I'm fucking Beaver Cleaver."
"Ew." Jensen shuddered. "That guy's old. Why would you want to fuck him?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, fuck you."
"Faggot."
Jared pulled a face and said, overloud, "Am not, take it back."
"Make me, homo."
There was a second there where Jensen felt bad, like he went too far, and worse, like he was exposing something. The way his thoughts at night drifted, not to any of the girls he knew from school or any chick in a movie, but to men. How he knew, deep down, what got him off, but he didn't have the language to admit it, or the guts, or the experience. It was usually easy to ignore, easy enough that he planned to train himself to ignore it altogether someday.
None of that came up when Jared practically flew at him in a gangly tackle and wrestled him onto his back to tickle him into submission.
"I give, I give," Jensen said, because the only option seemed to fight Jared off for real, which could well end in girly-tears.
"I am victorious!" Jared yelled, arms in the air. Jensen laughed.
"God, you're loud."
"Jealous."
"Mmhmm."
They settled back into their video game for a while before Jared cleared his throat to say, "You know I'm starting high school next week."
"Congratulations. McKinley High is lucky to have you."
"We'll be in school together."
Jensen paused the game. "We don't know each other, got it?"
"Yeah, that's what I figured."
"Big nerd like you doesn't need to be hanging out in the vocational wing with me, anyway."
"I would." Jared seemed to take a sudden interest in the carpet.
Jensen exhaled. "You're a social retard, though."
"As opposed to you, an actual retard."
"Now you're talking." Jensen was relieved to get his way without too much drama. High school was enough of a pain in the ass without the added annoyance of Jared trailing after him.
~~~
Dawn's breaking by the time they pull up to Jeff's. It's a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice yard. As grateful as he is to his brother and sister-in-law for letting him crash there, Jared can't wait to move into his own small place in his old questionable neighborhood to start making his own messes again. He steps out of Jensen's truck and leans over. "Thanks for everything."
"My pleasure." Jensen’s suggestive drawl doesn't leave his real meaning in any doubt.
"Well now," Jared tells him. "The pleasure was mutual."
"Oh, I know."
Jensen's grin is wicked and his eyes are bright; Jared sort of wants to open the door and slide back into the truck, head back to the bar, and see if the pool table can endure another round. "Never could get one over on you," he says.
"Smarter than I look."
Jared's going to ask when they'll see each other again. He wonders if that afternoon will be too soon, but he'll be in the neighborhood - picking up the car from the shop, signing the lease on his apartment - which seems like a good enough excuse. Still, there's a distinct possibility that if he goes into stalker mode it will freak Jensen out. That's what Chad used to call it when Jared came on too strong, too fast. Stalker mode. The thought of that old, bad habit pulls him back more than any doubts he might have about Jensen in particular.
"I'll see you around, I guess," he says.
"You know where to find me."
"Sure do."
When he starts to back away, Jensen calls out."Jared."
"Yeah?"
"I do want to see you again." Jensen smiles. "The sooner the better."
"Oh. Good." And it is good. It's good not to feel like a stalker, good that he's not the only one who wants sooner rather than later. But just because something feels good doesn't mean it's good for him. Jared's learned that lesson the hard way.
Jensen curls his fingers around the steering wheel. "I just wanted to make sure you know how I feel." The words are said low as he's putting the truck in drive and pulling away. Jared wonders if he heard him right.
I just wanted to make sure you know how I feel - it seems like an odd thing to say, but Jared's tired and it was probably nothing. He shakes it off and heads inside so Jeff can get his I-told-you-sos out of the way and Jared can take a long, cold shower.
He doesn't let twenty-four hours go by before he sees Jensen again. Stalker. But it's not like it's out of his way. His sister-in-law, Karen, drops him off at the auto shop down in the neighborhood, but the car's not ready yet and Jared could do with a beer. And fuck it. He wants to see Jensen.
He passes several old brick buildings on his walk to The Graveyard, some vacant, some not, all decorated with graffiti on their side and back walls. The pavement's still wet from the storm and the moisture rises as steam off the hot sidewalk. The utility poles are papered with flyers for local bands and missing pets, for the once-a-week farmer's market down the street. Most of the few city blocks that make up the commercial part of the neighborhood look a little different than Jared remembers, a little smaller, but those things are familiar. It smells pretty much the same, both good and bad - trash from the dumpsters in the alleyways and parking lots alongside the far more appetizing smells from the restaurants opening for lunch.
He doesn't stop in anywhere, goes straight to Jensen's bar instead and asks for him; Jensen's there and he seems happy to see Jared. There's no reason in the world he shouldn't have dropped by, Jared thinks, as they slide into the same booth they slid into the night before.
The gorgeous redhead tending bar watches them pretty closely and Jensen might seem a little squirmy about it. Jared certainly feels like a specimen in a jar. But that may be because he can't shake the feeling he's done something wrong. Last night wasn't a random hook-up, but it wasn't anything more than that either. It can't be. Situations like this are why Jared got out of the backroom blowjob business years ago.
"Did you go by the apartments?" Jensen asks.
"Not yet," Jared tells him. "I'm going to pick up the car first. But I called up there and they say they can get me in by Friday."
Jensen nods and maybe fidgets a little. He throws the bartender a look Jared can't read. Jared wonders if she knows what they did. He doesn't think Jensen would tell. Probably not, anyway. But maybe. It's a bragging-rights kind of story. And maybe she's Jensen's BFF, the one he tells all his secrets to, his Genevieve. Maybe she's the voice in his head saying, 'Don’t let another man break your heart; you deserve so much better than that'.
Generally, when Jared gets to the making up conversations for other people portion of the program in his head, he loses control of his vocal chords and says something stupid to release the tension. Today is no exception.
"I can't," he says. And stops. He's not sure where that sentence was going. Is it possible that he made it through medical school and got his license in not one, but two states? Even he finds it hard to believe sometimes.
Jensen looks at him like he's waiting so Jared continues. "Um, I mean." He leans forward, spies the tattoo on Jensen's wrist again. The design is easy to make out now that there's plenty of light and Jared's not distracted by earth-shattering sex. He reaches across the table and curls his fingers around Jensen's wrist like he wanted to before. Jensen's warm and his pulse strong, blood and skin and ink under Jared's fingers.
"What is it?" Jared asks. "The tattoo?"
It's a winding design, some sort of vine that travels around Jensen's wrist and partway up his forearm. It's dark and masculine, simple but obviously drawn with care.
"It's ivy," Jensen tells him as he turns his arm so Jared can see the top of the design where the vine twists around a bird that's just sketched in, almost abstract, poised for flight. "And that's a phoenix."
"Ivy and phoenix?"
"Mmm." Jensen settles his hand over Jared's. "Perseverance and rebirth. That's what Danneel said, anyway." He nods toward the bartender. "She's an artist at Thirteen Tattoos down the street, just moonlights here when she needs the cash. She designed it."
Jared turns his hand to lace their fingers together, lets his thumb travel up to brush over the design at Jensen's wrist. "It's perfect."
Jensen's pulse beats faster now, and Jared likes that he's causing that.
"Was there something else?" Jensen asks.
"No. Yes." Jared shrugs. "I don't think it matters."
"I guess that's up to you."
"I broke up with my boyfriend less than a month ago." There, he thinks. That's out.
Jensen tenses a little, the change so slight Jared wouldn't notice if he wasn't holding his hand.
"Well I knew you had a recent break-up."
"But you didn’t know it was that recent."
"How long were you together?" Jensen asks.
"Almost two years."
The thing is, Jared almost believes he's over it. It sent him reeling so hard he moved to another state without a job or a plan. But it worked, or it feels like it did. He hasn't been thinking about Tom that much. He hasn't been calling Genevieve every day to talk about what a fucker Tom was or what a loser he is with a string of bad endings to bad relationships behind him. He's been living his life without all that baggage. For a whole week or so at least.
"I guess it ended messy?"
"Yeah. Well, no, actually. It feels like it should've ended messier than it did," Jared tells him. "We were living together and he got a job in Seattle. He's a surgeon. Anyway, I knew he was looking for a position out there but when he got the job, I thought - this is it, I have to decide if I'm ready to go across country for him. I like Seattle, but I don't know if it's my climate, you know?"
"It's a big change."
"Yeah."
"It's understandable that you wouldn't want to go, Jared. You shouldn't feel too bad about it."
"That's the thing," Jared admits. "Somewhere along the way, I realized he hadn't asked me."
"Ouch."
"Yeah." Jared nods. "Ouch."
"You didn't talk about it?"
"It was only two weeks or so before he left that we had the talk. He said he just assumed this would be the end of the line for us and I was," Jared gestures with his free hand. "I couldn't believe it."
"Pretty harsh."
"I don't know. Maybe from his point of view, this was something I'd seen coming for months and he just figured I realized we were breaking up."
"He still should have talked to you."
"I should have asked. I should have known to ask. I was an idiot."
Jensen laughs. "Maybe a little."
"Thank you, Dr. Phil."
"But he still sounds like an ass."
Jared exhales an exaggerated sigh. "He was really cute, though."
"Guys as hot as you don't generally draw in uglies."
"That's the nicest thing you ever said to me."
Jensen arches a brow.
"Well since the whole 'wanna fuck you on that pool table' thing."
"I guess I'm glad you told me." Jensen pulls his hand away and slumps back in the booth. “But I don’t want you to think you have to."
"No, I know. I talk too much."
"Yes, but I don’t mind that." Jensen's smile is soft. “I mean, what happened last night. It was great."
"Really great." Jared looks to the pool table and realizes Jensen's doing the same before they both pull their gazes away.
"But you were up front about how it was just a thing," Jensen reminds him. "We established that already."
"I know. I'm just. I don't do that. I feel a little slutty to be honest."
"Nothing wrong with taking what you want when you want it as long as nobody gets hurt."
"Now that sounds like the Jensen I used to know."
"I haven't changed so much. Just adjusted my approach a little."
"And what else have you been up to?"
Jensen's matter-of-fact. "I stayed around, I got my act together. My parents, they-"
"I wasn't going to ask," Jared says. "I mean I didn't know if I should."
"They're better." Jensen looks down at the table and bites his lip. "There was a fire about eight years ago, no surprise the way they were living. They lost the house."
"I guess I should say I'm sorry." But Jared remembers how miserable Jensen was there, how hard he had to fight showing it, and he's not truly sorry at all.
"Don't. I'm not. It was the best thing that could have happened." Jensen taps his closed fist on the table. "It forced them to start over. They're in assisted living now and mom's getting help. She's okay."
"I guess you're paying for that?"
"Mac helps."
Jared smiles. Mac's just a year younger than Jared and Jensen was always pretty protective of her in a sort of distant big brother way. "What's she up to?" He asks.
"She's married. She's got some corporate job." Jensen beams. "Living in Dallas."
"And your brother?"
"Haven't heard from him in a while. He never really looked back."
"Some people never do."
"I'm glad you did."
Those simple words, said plain and low, travel like a hum breathed onto Jared's skin. By the time he looked back, he was ready to come back. There wasn't much thinking about it, just time to start over.
But he has thought of Jensen over the years, probably more than he realized. It'd be hard not to, given the number of shared experiences that pulled on his memory again and again. All the times he thought: I remember the first time I saw this movie, Braveheart or Independence Day or any one of dozens, remember sitting in the dark theater, sticky floors and sticky fingers, pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, hands dipping into the popcorn, fighting over it and making a mess.
They share a smile and Jared figures Jensen's remembering the same.
"So," Jensen says. "Tell me about the clinic."
"Not much to tell." Jared relaxes back against the booth. "I could get in there quick, start on Monday. Regular hours, with some on-call work."
"They do good work in the community."
"Yeah, nobody's gonna get rich working there, but it's the kind of work I like doing. What I got into it for."
"You always did have a lot of do-gooder in you."
Jared can't seem to stop himself saying, "Not last night, I didn't."
Jensen just shakes his head and groans, and there's nothing Jared can say to that. It's an appropriate response. But maybe Jared shouldn't be joking about it, not yet when things are still fairly awkward.
"So, seen any good movies lately?" He asks to change the subject. It's not smooth and Jensen laughs big but goes along.
And just like that, they're on to movies - they still share the same tastes it seems - and music, which gives them more to disagree on. Jensen was always a purist while Jared's an unabashed Top Forty kind of guy.
By the time he's finishing up beer number two, along with a BLT and fries, Jared can't help but notice that Danneel isn't the only one watching. The entire staff seems in on the act. Jensen notices it too, or notices that Jared does, and finally says, "You want to get out of here? We can take a walk. I'll reintroduce you to the neighborhood."
"I'd like that."
It's early afternoon and the sun beats down hard. Jared feels himself go damp with sweat the instant they step outside. They get some ice-coffee from Joe's and Jensen introduces Jared to the guy working there. He seems to know everybody. There's not a lot of foot traffic this time of day, but the shop owners and employees all call out their hellos to Jensen.
"You're so respectable," Jared says. He's suppressing the urge to reach over and clasp Jensen's hand in his.
"That's me." Jensen gestures toward the used book store. "Let's go in here, you'll like these guys."
Delectus Used Books has a nice selection and a back room with a sign on the archway that reads, "Naughty Bits."
A blonde man walks around the front counter to greet them. "Jensen, what have you brought me?" He asks in a British accent. "Not that he isn't delicious, mind you, but it's not even my birthday."
"Hands off, Sebastian. He's with me."
"So possessive, darling." Sebastian reaches a hand to curl around Jared's bicep. "It is real," he murmurs before turning back to Jensen. "Not that I blame you."
"Jared's an old friend," Jensen tells him. "He's just moving back to the neighborhood."
"Hi," Jared says before he's distracted by another man with a devilish grin and dancing blue eyes who walks in from the back room.
"Well, well," the man says.
Jensen gestures between them. "Jared, this is Misha. Misha, this is my friend, Jared.”
"I'll say." Misha winks and Jared feels himself smiling.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," Jensen says.
"Oh, come on. Get over yourself, Ackles." Misha loops an arm around Sebastian's waist, pulling him close, and looks them both over with a critical eye. "You've both been gorgeous your whole lives. Surely you've learned to deal with the fallout by now."
Jared can't help but laugh. Sebastian and Misha both take obvious delight in being inappropriate, a quality Jared's always admired. Jensen was always the play-it-cool-type though, so it's a little surprising that they're friends.
"Jensen's been gorgeous his whole life," Jared corrects.
"And you?" Seb asks.
"I ran the Dungeons and Dragons club at our high school."
"That's right." If Jensen's laugh is any indication, he maybe finds a little too much humor in that memory.
"Hey, we had fun."
"And you were the star of the debate team, too," Jensen says.
"I'm surprised you remember since you were never at school."
Sebastian and Misha watch them like spectators at a tennis match. "I see there's a lot of history here," Sebastian says.
Jensen bumps shoulders with Jared. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Definitely."
When they leave the shop, Jared is the new owner of a coffee table book full of not-so-tasteful erotic photography and he's promised to host a get-together at his apartment once he's settled. He figures he'll put the book out when Misha and Seb come over then hide it in the back of the closet for the rest of, well, his life.
He and Jensen are halfway down the block before Jared realizes they just agreed to a double date.
Moving too fast, says the voice in his head. It's not even Genevieve's now, but his own. Too fast. The thought sends a little reactionary panic through him and Jared finds himself cutting their time short. He looks down at his watch and gives Jensen a half smile. "Car's probably ready. I should go."
"You want me to drive you up there?"
"It's just a few blocks. I'll walk."
Jensen's watching him, and Jared can tell it clicks. He knows that maybe the car is ready, but he knows Jared's running, too. There's a look in his eyes that may be disappointment, quickly suppressed.
"All right, then." Jensen squeezes Jared's shoulder as he takes a step back and starts walking toward The Graveyard. "You've got my number. Call me sometime, once you get settled."
"Yeah, or I'll drop by." Jared shoves his hands in his pockets and heads the other way.
"Pool table's always ready."
"I don't know man." Jared shakes his head. "Might be structural damage."
"Only one way to find out." Jensen's calling out to him now, far enough down the street that the conversation's effectively over. Jared waves his goodbye and keeps his mouth shut instead of admitting how much the idea of testing for structural damage with Jensen appeals.
Jared moves into his new place on Friday and spends the weekend helping the dogs adjust. To be fair, Sadie and Harley take to change easier than Jared does. They've been through two other apartments, Jared's old house in Atlanta, and now Jeff's. Not to mention three long-term boyfriends. They take well to the small apartment too, to their morning jog and long walks around the neighborhood.
It takes Jared about a week to get up to speed at the clinic. Paperwork's different everywhere Jared's ever been and the clinic is practically stuck in the Dark Ages compared to the more upscale practice he left behind in Atlanta. But he likes it. Not the paperwork; he's never met a doctor who did. Maybe he'll get burnt out but he likes what he's doing. Doctor Gamble runs the place with a firm hand, get 'em in and get 'em out, and Jared appreciates the momentum. What he loves more is the sense that he's doing good, mostly vaccinations and walk-ins with sore throats, but good work for people who need it.
Given the upheaval in his life, Jared thinks about Jensen more than he should. They're playing it safe still, a few light kisses in the backroom of the bar, fingers tracing over fingers, nothing more than that. But it feels a little dangerous. He sits at the bar when Jensen's behind it, or grabs a booth seat when Jensen can join him there. When the weather's nice, he brings the dogs and sits outside on the patio. It doesn’t take long for it to become routine.
He feels his face go hot every time he looks over at the pool table.
"You want to play?" Jensen likes to ask when he sees Jared's gaze drift that way.
The sound of the balls rolling across felt and banging into the railing or whooshing into a pocket makes his cock twitch. Jensen always looks pretty pleased with himself when he sees Jared's reaction.
"I don't think I'll ever play pool again."
Jensen smiles; he laughs with his whole body. He's got a life, a business to run, more friends he introduces Jared to one by one. Even Danneel, after some initial skepticism, seems to like Jared. There's a particular look she throws his way that seems to mean, 'I've got my eye on you, boy', though he's not sure why.
Maybe it's because when Jared comes by, Jensen seems pretty willing to drop everything else. They call it getting reacquainted. Jared's not sure what Danneel calls it.
And it's good. It's great. But after the intensity of that first night, it feels like idling in neutral, which is close enough to what Jared needs that he can roll with it. But what he should be striving for is a distance he doesn't really want.
Two weeks pass before Jared makes good on his promise to have Misha and Seb over, along with Jensen. Housewarming is a pretty generous description of the occasion given the apartment's size and the wine he receives in lieu of any useful gifts from Bed, Bath, & Beyond or Pottery Barn.
It's odd having Jensen in his small home. Jared's used to seeing him against the backdrop of the bar or around the shops in the neighborhood - the coffee shop or Delectus where they spend a lot of their time together. Jared waves them all into the apartment. "Well, this is the grand tour."
One bedroom, one big bathroom, a tiny kitchen with a bar that divides it from the living room, which is furnished with Jared's over-stuffed couch and his mounted flat screen TV. It's a typical bachelor pad, maybe better decorated than that of a typical straight counterpart but certainly not by much.
"Nice place." Jensen crouches at the door to greet Sadie and Harley.
"They're expecting bacon," Jared tells him. "You're the bacon dispenser at that nice outdoor food bowl as far as they're concerned."
"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Jensen gives them a final scratch behind the ears and walks to the counter to grab a beer.
"You don't need to work hard to win them over."
"They're probably easier than Jared over here." Misha's sitting on the couch and flipping through the obscene coffee table book Jared remembered to set out only minutes before his guests arrived.
"I don't know." Jared smirks at Jensen. "I think I'm pretty easy."
Jensen's smile is tight-lipped. "Only on special occasions."
"Oh, do tell," Sebastian says as he sidles up to the bar.
"Never in a million years," Jensen tells him as Jared says, "Maybe one day, if you're good."
Jensen grins. "Same difference."
"I can be very good," Sebastian assures him. "Can't I, darling?"
"No. You're always very bad." Seb rolls his eyes at Misha's deadpan response and joins his partner on the couch.
Misha and Seb are great company. They never met an entendre they didn't want to double. Some might say they're a little overly affectionate with each other, exhibitionists on top of everything else. But Jared has to admit that there's something about what they have that he craves; easy rhythm, a clarity about who they are to each other and how they present it to everyone else.
When the dogs realize they're not getting free bacon out of the deal, they abandon the company to go sleep on Jared's bed. Jared does manage to keep the beer and wine flowing and by the time Misha and Seb declare themselves done for the night, he's pleasantly buzzed. Jensen's been matching him drink for drink, shooting those looks at Jared all night like he sometimes does. The ones Jared likes to think are only for him, warm and fond and a little sly.
When Jared ushers Misha and Seb out the door and shuts it behind them, he turns to find Jensen close, pushing him against the door and smiling, pressing in and kissing, soft and easy until Jared opens to it, smiles and licks at Jensen's tongue while it works its way into his mouth.
Jared raises his hand to Jensen's cheek, curls his fingers around to cradle his head and pulls him in closer while Jensen steadies his hands at Jared's waist and deepens the kiss. Jared's breathing hard; he can feel his chest rise and fall with it, invading more of Jensen's space with every inhale.
"You do so much to me," he breathes into Jensen's mouth.
Jensen slides his fingers under the hem of Jared's t-shirt and skims them over his ribs. Jared tingles hot-cold at the touch as Jensen traces his tongue over Jared's lips. He opens them wider to suck Jensen's tongue into his mouth, lets it go to nip at his full bottom lip, then they're kissing again as Jared pushes away from the door and back-walks Jensen to the couch.
Their movements are clumsy; Jensen pulls away to dip down and suck on the skin of Jared's throat, flicker out his tongue and slide a wet line. Jared pulls him in tight and sucks on Jensen's earlobe, breathes against it and feels the shudder that goes through Jensen's body.
They dip and fall onto the couch, Jensen on his back and Jared pressing him into cushions with all his weight. Jensen can take it, all of Jared's bulk, falling over him like a heavy blanket, making him hot like Jared, stretching him out and pushing him down. Jensen wraps his leg around Jared's thighs to pull him in closer.
Jared's shirt is bunched up to his chest and Jensen's arms are looped around him while Jared runs his fingers over Jensen's body - his side, his arms, back up to his throat; they tremble against his cheeks. Jensen bucks up while his hands travel Jared's back, up to his shoulders before he brings them down, fingers curved into flesh as they drag against sweat-slick skin, down his back then lower to slip under the waistband of Jared's jeans.
"Too tight," he says, muffled and amused. Jared reaches between them to undo his fly, does the same for Jensen. But he doesn't pull their jeans off, just unclasps them to give more room so Jensen's hand can travel down further, along Jared's crack before resting on his ass, squeezing lightly as Jared raises himself up enough to run his hand down Jensen's body to the hem of his t-shirt.
"Off," he says. Jensen laughs and helps him remove the shirt. They make quick work of Jared's too, then they're on each other again, bare flesh pressed close, and it doesn't seem like much, not for two men who've been with plenty of other men, not for two men who have been together. But it feels like a lot. It feels like being young again and making out with a boy for the first time.
And Jared can barely remember who that was. Some guy he met in an under-21 club. Brock maybe. Yeah, Brock. He made out with Brock in the backseat; they were both shaky and sweaty from dancing and Jared didn't give a damn about Brock. He never talked to Brock again. He was just happy to check it off the list at the time: Made out with a boy. But for all that, the first time was an adrenaline rush that you just don't feel every day. And Jared feels like that now, feels that rush again. Like it's new because it is new. It's Jensen.
He laughs and dips his head to suck on the flesh of Jensen's neck and runs his fingers along Jensen's chest, down to the soft skin of his belly, and Jensen laughs with him. There's no telling why. Maybe because it's fun. Maybe because it's them.
"That tickles," Jensen says.
Or maybe just because it tickles. And Jared laughs at that, too. He grinds down against Jensen and Jensen dips a finger to play along Jared's perineum and the outer rim of his hole; Jared pushes back against it before rolling down again.
He sets one foot on the floor and starts to work his way down Jensen's body, pushing Jensen up in a slide along the cushions to gain more traction. Jensen weaves their fingers together then raises their clasped hands up over their heads. Jensen's other hand is still at play on Jared's ass when Jared starts to trace a line down Jensen's chest with his tongue, follows the path with the fingers of his free hand over trembling skin.
Jared flicks his tongue over Jensen's hard nipples, sucks at them, tweaking the sensitive hard pink skin with his fingers before trailing them down over the soft skin of Jensen's side. Jensen brings their clasped hands down between them and looks at Jared, eyes intense and bright. He kisses Jared's knuckles, slicks them up with his tongue. Jared grins wicked and pushes at Jensen's jeans. Jensen tries to help, pushes up his hips so Jared can work them off, past his underwear, and down to his knees before Jared loses the will to stand up and work them all the way down.
He's going to go down on Jensen, take him in and work him so good he comes in Jared's mouth, down his throat, but Jensen has other ideas.
"No," he says. "I want to look at you."
"But-" Jared reaches his hand down to cup Jensen's hard cock through his underwear.
"Please, Jared. Please. Want to look at you."
"Yeah?"
"Always."
Jared huffs. Jensen's so intense sometimes, almost more than Jared can match, but he makes his way up Jensen's body and falls over him again, pushes down his own jeans and his briefs as he moves so that the only thing between their hard cocks is the thin fabric of Jensen's underwear.
"You ever bottom?" Jared asks whisper-soft, afraid the question's too clinical. He doesn't want to ruin the mood.
Jensen smiles at him and brushes back Jared's sweat-damp hair before he pulls him in close, forehead to forehead. "Sometimes. I will. For you. Anything."
"Not tonight, though, right?"
Not that Jared doesn't want to, but he wants this, too - the soft warm edge of simply making out, flesh to flesh, of getting off like this. There's a sense of wonder in it almost, like he wants to be softer than his body will allow. Wants to cushion Jensen and protect him and run his hands over him soft as cotton, no hardness. No bruises or marks, though it's too late for that.
"No, not tonight." Jensen says as he wraps his legs fully around Jared's waist and pulls him in close, rubs their noses together and smiles, flutters their lashes together and runs his hands down Jared's back, smooth and warm against Jared's damp skin.
They kiss slow and soft, their tongues rolling together, small nips of flesh on flesh.
"You have no idea," Jensen says. "I bet you never will."
"What?"
Jensen shakes his head and pushes up to grind against Jared. Jared pulls back but keeps their cocks pressed close together, looks down at Jensen and raises his hand to run his fingers over Jensen's skin, his eyebrows, the soft flutter of eyelashes against the pad of Jared's thumb, down his cheekbones to that beautiful swollen mouth, plump and wet and red from Jared's kisses.
"What?" He asks again.
Jensen pulls Jared in for another deep kiss. "Just how amazing you are," he says against Jared's skin as they both lose control and start moving faster against each other, frantic and rhythmless, letting go of whatever control they've been able to manage. Jared feels his balls pull in tight and the rigid tension of Jensen's body as he arches his neck, muscles and veins popping, and they both come together, soaking Jensen's briefs, their thick come sticky between them. Jared collapses onto Jensen, he looks at him close and can't believe how lucky he is.
Jensen's eyes are big and dark, so intense Jared's almost scared by it.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
Jensen just watches as their heavy breath falls between them and shakes his head.
"Jensen?"
"Yeah," Jensen finally says. "I'm fine. That was just-"
"Intense."
"Exactly."
Jared can't help but feel there's more to it than that. He manages to stand up just long enough to slip out of his jeans and strip Jensen of the rest of his clothes before he drops back down to the couch to pull him in close. They squirm around until they're able to arrange themselves side-by-side, face-to-face. They're both shaky and breathless, and Jensen's watching Jared like being vigilant about it matters. It occurs to Jared that for all his concern over the state of his own heart, maybe it's Jensen's that needs looking after.
part three