Summer Days - Day 5

Aug 06, 2012 08:44

Title: Summer Days - Day 5
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, H/C
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: Mentions of: prostitution, past drugs
Word Count: ~ 3000
Disclaimer: The events described in this story are purely fictional.

A/N: Part of Summer Days

Summary: The first meeting with the family goes...



Summer Days

"If you are going through hell, keep going."
~ Winston Churchill

Day 5

Jared

Out of order. The lights are out. The elevator doors remain firmly shut. The yellow sign glares back at him. He pushes the button again, anyway.

“’t says ‘out of order’.” Jensen points at the plastic sign.

“I know,” he retorts, snidely. Watches as Jensen’s finger leaves a sweaty print.

Jared blows a breath up his face, but his sweaty hair remains stuck to his forehead. Tickles his eyes. It’s another hot day in San Antonio. Pretty humid at that, too.

“So stairs?” Jensen asks, adjusts the rolled up sleeves of his black velvet shirt. A faint sheen glimmers on his skin. It really makes his track marks stand out.

Jared snorts. “My sister lives on the seventh floor.”

“I know,” Jensen retorts, smug. “Ya’ said that before.”

He grins. Shakes his head. “Smartass.”

Jensen playfully knocks him in the shoulder. Steps past him towards the stairs. As soon as he’s turned his back, Jared’s face drops. Seven floors. He sighs. Tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Take it slow, alright?” He calls. Trails after Jensen. “We’re early, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jensen mumbles. Whether he forgot he’s not the fittest, just doesn’t care or really feels well enough, Jared can’t tell. He takes a glance up the staircase. The steps wind upwards into unseen heights. He feels short of breath just from imagining walking seven flights.

Under their feet, the wooden steps creak ominously. The walls are painted in various shades of brown and green. The walkway is narrow, the ceilings high. Artificial lights glimmer at the walls. The colored windows don’t let in enough light.

Megan calls it antique. Jared’s not sure if the building is quite there, yet. Still, he always thought it possessed a sort of quaint charm.

But that’s not the sentiment that comes to mind as he climbs the stairs today. Past the third floor marker he glances to his right. A wet hand print mars the wall where Jensen pushed himself off it only moments before. Jared balls his hands into fists. Feels his own sweaty palms. Glances up and sees Jensen’s not stopping. Slowly, he trails on after him. Jared’s breathing has quickened. The air is thick. He tugs at his collar again. As he takes step after step, he catches up to Jensen. Unintentionally. He swallows hard as he notices Jensen is slowing. Faltering. Then a trembling hand reaches out, curls against the wall. Jensen stops. Sags against the wall. His free hand goes to his chest. Pulls his shirt, fans it. Jensen’s breathing has turned into ghostly wheezes in the eerie silence.

Jared gently takes him by the shoulder. Jensen’s eyes close and Jared pulls him in, until he’s carrying most of his weight. “’t was okay…” Jensen pants. “I swear… until… the last…”

He shushes Jensen. Sits down with him. “It’s okay. I’m winded, too.”

Sitting there, he holds onto Jensen. Stares into space while he waits for Jensen to regain his breath. Swamp colored walls shoot up around him. Empty, dimly lit hallways lead into nothingness. He can hear the house breathing. But no sounds of its inhabitants. His chest tightens, his hold on Jensen, too.

Jensen sucks in a rattling breath. “What?” He gasps. “Ya’ ok?”

Jared swallows hard. “Yeah… just… I wish we were someplace else.”

“We just got here,” Jensen says. “We can’t go, yet.”

“I know,” he sighs. Then he brushes a hand through his hair. Pushes back on his feet, pulling Jensen up with him. “Ready for the last two flights, sport?” He asks. Forces a cheerful grin on his face. Anything to suppress the sudden onset of claustrophobia.

Jensen watches him for a moment. His breathing is labored and Jared fears they’ll never reach his sister’s apartment. They might never get out of this damn place, this damn hallway, they -

A hand closes tightly around his. He glances down. Jensen’s fingers have firmly taken hold of where his own sweaty hands began to slip.

“Come on,” Jensen says, his voice surprisingly even. Jared looks back up. Jensen’s chest is still rising and falling heavily, but his mouth is closed. His eyes set.

“Let’s go,” he says and pulls at his hand. “Almost there, ain’t we?”

“Yeah,” he says, his breath hitching. He stumbles after Jensen, his hand still firmly in Jensen’s grasp. But the tightness in his chest loosens a little.

Jensen

Seventh floor. Jared points to the right with his free hand. It’s trembling. His skin is pale. Almost as pale as his. But there’re also red spots dancing on Jared’s cheeks. And his eyes have grown wide. Real wide. It’s not a good look. Jensen has seen it before. He met lots of guys who couldn’t handle dark rooms for too long. Especially that guy Casket. He was called Tiny Louis first, before he got fucked in a casket. Locked up in the same for two days. Casket never got rid of that look on his face. Not even when he OD’ed a couple months or so later.

Jensen takes a deep breath. His heart’s still doing hiccups. But it’s gotten better. He thinks. A glass of water and sitting down wouldn’t be that bad of an idea, though. And it’d certainly do Jared good. So he adjusts his sweaty palm around Jared’s hand and pulls him along. “Which one?”

“Fourth door on the left,” Jared says. Points at a door. A fresh sunflower wreath hangs of it. The welcome mat below looks like meadow. As they near it, he spots the light orange print of two birds on it. He grins at the welcoming sight. Turns to Jared who has regained some color. A faint smile has spread on his lips.

“Now,” Jensen says, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shaking his head, Jared laughs. “No, not at all.”

Still grinning he rings the doorbell. Then glances at their entwined hands. “Ya’ want me to let go?”
Jared shoots a quick look down, squeezes his palm then looks back up at him. Shrugs and says, “Not necessarily, no.” A beat, then, “Do you want me to let go?”

Never, he thinks. Smiling softly, he says, “Nah, not really.”

Then the door opens. A young woman in a strapless, light floral dress glances up at them. Her brown hair falls softly over one shoulder. Blends smoothly with her tanned skin. She’s pretty, her smile gentle, albeit a little hesitant.

“Hey, Megan,” Jared says, quietly.

Her brown eyes switch to her brother. “Wow,” she says. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jared huffs a laugh. “Nice to see you, too.” She grins and Jared wraps her in a one armed hug. Her face presses into his shoulder for a moment, then she pulls back. Brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and turns from Jared to him.

“Hello, Megan,” he says. Holds out his hand. She smiles politely, reaches forward but then stops. “Oh…” She says, glancing down. Jensen follows her line of sight. Right to the band aids still wrapped around his fingertips.

“Oh… that… uhm…” He curls and uncurls his hand a few times. He doesn’t even sense the band aids anymore.
“It’s already scabbed over,” Jared points out. “You can touch him.”

Megan shoots an awkward glance to her brother. “I wasn’t… I mean, I was just wondering what happened.”
“Forgot the time playing guitar,” Jensen mumbles, releases Jared’s hands and holds up his palms. “No more blood, though, see?”

She looks back at him, surprised. “Oh, okay… well, then…” She offers her hand and he shakes it gently. Says, “Thank you for the chocolate cookies.”

A dimpled smile like Jared’s forms on her face. “You’re welcome.” Then she turns, says, “Come on in,” and waves them to follow.

As soon as she has turned her back completely, Jared’s hand curls into the back of his shirt. Jensen shoots a grin over his shoulder. Nods at Jared’s hand on his back. A faint blush rises into Jared’s cheeks, but he returns his glance defiantly. “What?” He asks. Hangs onto him even tighter.

Jensen shakes his head, amused. “Nothin’.”

Jared

The pressure around his chest finally dissipates, as he and Jensen follow his sister. Soft light floods through wide windows. Dances gracefully over pastel colored walls.

“By the way,” Megan says, “I hope you guys are hungry. I made lots of grilled chicken and potato salad. Oh, and a huge chocolate cake for later,” Megan says.

“Awesome,” Jensen mumbles, quietly but excited. Megan shoots him a soft smile. Jared’s heart warms at the sight. The day might go well, after all.

“We gotta be careful, though,” Jared laughs, as they round the corner into Megan’s spacious kitchen. “Or Jensen might eat the chocolate cake all… alone…” His voice dies. So does the flicker of hope that the day might go well.

Megan’s square, wenge dinner table is set nicely. A white table runner stretches over the dark wood. In the middle stands a bucket of sunflowers. Floral napkins, folded into tiny fans, sit atop fashionable silver plates. There’re three empty seats. Two for him and Jensen, one for Megan. Five more seats are already occupied.

Jared’s breath catches in his throat. “I thought it’d just be the three of us,” he croaks.

“Aww, Jared, don’t be like that,” Megan says. “This is nice, too, isn’t it?” Her voice is light. Awkwardly so. He can tell she knows exactly what he thinks of this.

Next to him, Jensen shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“See, Jay?” Jeff calls from the table. “He doesn’t mind.”

Jared glares at his brother. Dares him to keep up the snide in his tone. Megan clears his throat. “Let’s start with the introductions, yes?” She says and turns to Jensen.

Jensen

The first one Megan points out is a young man. He’s the only one sitting directly next to an empty seat. “This is Ben,” Megan says. “My boyfriend.” Figured, Jensen thinks. Smiles politely. Ben rises to his feet. He’s pretty short. A little stocky but in an athletic kind of way. He’s wearing loose jeans and a short sleeved shirt that sits snug around his shoulders. His face seems gentle enough, albeit nondescript. Not the kind of face you’d easily recognize on the streets. “Hey, man,” Ben says. “Nice meeting you.”

He nods, says, “Same here,” and shakes Ben’s hand. After that, Megan moves on to the young couple at the table. “This is Jeff, our brother, and his wife Lauren.”

Lauren is a fair skinned lady. Her long locks are pitch black, a stark contrast to her fine features. She’s pretty, like a Disney princess. She says, “Hello, Jensen,” and her voice sounds fragile as glass. She smiles politely, gives a soft wave of her hand.

“Hi,” he says, returns the smile. Then he faces Jeff, who looks like an older version of Jared. His hair is the same color, but shorter. He’s a broad fellow, but Jensen can’t tell if it’s muscles or fat hiding under his dress shirt. Jeff’s face is blank. He doesn’t move except for a brief tilt of his chin and a curt, “Hey, man.”

Jensen blinks. Says, “Hey,” and knows just who in this room can’t stand his guts.

Next is a lady in her mid-fifties. Megan introduces her as Sharon. Momma Padalecki. Jensen offers his hand, but she doesn’t take it. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table. Much like her eldest son, she only nods in greeting. Says, “Jensen.” Her voice is smooth. Warm. She looks nice, aged well and with pride, face framed with full and very bright hair. It’s how he always imagined a Mother would look at this age. But he gets the impression she’s not too fond of him. He mumbles a faint, “Nice to meet ya’, Ma’am,” and retreats his hand.

Jared’s hand curls around his shoulder. Squeezes it gently. Jensen shoots him a glance, but Jared’s face is a stony mask.

The man next to Sharon speaks up. Says, “Excuse my wife and eldest son,” and rises to his feet. He’s been a large fellow sitting down. But standing up, his stature is even more impressive. Taller than Jared, broad shouldered and with a gut lined out through his shirt. He’s dressed casual, but fashionable. Jensen’s pretty sure he saw that shirt in the new Abercrombie collection at the mall.

Before he has time to react, his hand is swallowed in a tight grip. “I’m Gerald,” the man says and pulls him in. “Ya’ can call me Gerry, though. Everyone does.” The next moment, Jensen finds his face smashed up against the man’s shoulder. Up close with Gerry’s tan neck. His skin is even darker than Jared’s. When the embrace loosens, Jensen leans back. Sees from whom Jared got his bright and wide smile. Just like with Jared, he can’t help but return the smile. “Nice to meet you, Sir,” he says, politely.

Gerry slams a heavy hand on his shoulder. It rattles his bones and he coughs.

“Dad!” Jared snaps. Gerry waves him off, though. “My bad,” he says, and the hold on Jensen’s shoulder grows softer. Guides him to an empty seat. “Sit down, son,” he says. Jensen’s heart skips a beat. “Let’s get some meat back on your bones, alright?”

He nods, smiling off kilter. His head is swimming as he sits down. Jared takes the chair next to his. Leans in close, whispering. “You alright?”

His lip twitches. A faint grin tugs at the corners. He nods shakily. Whispers, “Ya’ Dad called me ‘son’.” He glances at his patched up fingertips. Gerry didn’t mind him, didn’t mind touching him at all.

Jared’s fingers curl around his thigh. He glances back up at Jared’s slightly stunned smile. Jared doesn’t understand. Can’t. So Jensen leans in close. Sheepishly whispers into Jared’s ear, “I ain’t been anyone’s son since I was four.”

Jared

He splashes cold water on his face. Glances back up at his dripping reflection. Then picks a light blue towel and wipes his face dry. The fabric is soft, but it still feels like sandpaper against his skin. If he didn’t know better he’d say he’s coming down with a fever. That’s not it, though. A digital clock on Megan’s cosmetic shelf reads 4:30 pm. Jared’s got a bit of a hard time believing they’ve been at Megan’s place for over four hours. Without major incidents. Even Jeff has been civil. For the most part. Jared sighs. Puts the towel back on its hanger. A knock on the door makes him flinch.

“Jared?” It’s Jensen. “Ya’ done? I gotta take a leak.”

“Ya-“ His voice breaks. He clears his throat. Says, “Yeah,” and flips the lock. Jensen pushes in right away. Past him to the toilet. He unzips without shame and goes.

Jared sighs. Pushes the door closed. “You know,” he says. “My sis doesn’t like it when guys don’t sit down.”

“Huh,” Jensen mumbles. “Well…” He shakes off and zips back up. Flushes and turns around. “I’ll remember for next time.”

Jared points at the sink. Jensen sighs, but goes to wash his hands.

“How’re you doing?” Jared asks. “I mean with all this. My family.”

Jensen shrugs. “I like ya’ Dad.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, I kinda got that… and I’m glad about that.” He pauses. Scratches awkwardly at his head. “I just wondered… if…” He trails off. Sighs. Why bring it up if Jensen didn’t notice anything. “No… nevermind.”

There’s a brief pause. Then Jensen says, “Ya’ were talking about your brother, right? He ain’t very good at hiding how disgusted he is.”

Jared grits his teeth.

Jensen wipes his hands on the same towel he did. “I was sure he’d give me all sort of shit.” He turns. Leans backwards against the sink. “He wants to. It’s in his eyes.”

Jared exhales a weary breath. Pinches the bridge of his nose. “He’ll come around.”

“I wonder…” Jensen mumbles. “I dunno wha’ I’m supposed to do, here.” A pause. “They’re your family. I want ’em to like me.”

“I want that too. And they do. It’s just Jeff, but he’s always like that.” Jared says softly. Cups Jensen’s cheek. “Just be yourself.” He strokes a thumb over Jensen’s jaw. “It got my mom slowly warming up to you.”
Jensen leans into his touch. Gives a faint smile. “If ya’ say so…” He sighs. Then straightens back up. “Let’s go back in, yeah?”

Jensen

In the hallway they hear faint voices. From the direction of the living room. “They moved?”

“Sounds like it,” Jared mumbles. Shrugs.

At the corner, Jensen stops. Says, “You go ahead. I wanna get my beer.”

Jared nods and Jensen splits. Heads down the short hallway to the kitchen. No one’s there. They really all moved to the living room. He picks the bottle by the flower bucket. Turns to leave and takes a swig. His thumb brushes over the label. It’s partly torn. But he didn’t do that.

Coughing, he pulls the bottle away from his lips. Turns it to inspect the label. It’s definitely not his bottle. “Crap…” He glances around. Unsure what to do. No one’s seen him, though. And it’s not like anyone can catch HIV from this.

What’s that saying? What the eye does not see, the heart does not give a shit. Or something like that.
On tip toes, Jensen puts the bottle back on the table. Does his best to hit the exact same spot it stood on before. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he then picks the bottle a little more to the right. That’s gotta be his.

He takes another swig to ease his nerves. As he steps out of the kitchen, he runs into Jeff. Mumbles a brief, “Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Jeff retorts. Pushes past him into the kitchen. Jensen watches from the corner of his eye how Jeff picks up a bottle. The bottle by the flower bucket. He raises it to his lips. Wraps them firmly around the rim and takes a deep swig. As Jeff turns, he spots him, still watching. Jeff’s eyes narrow. He burps pointedly. Shoots him a condescending look. “What?”

Jensen grins. Maybe not HIV, but a nice case of oral herpes isn’t out of the question. He raises his own bottle. “Cheers.”

Day 6

'verse: summer day, fic: summer days, genre: h/c, pairing: j2, genre: slash, setting: au

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