Remnants - Ch. 6
chapter five
“I like it. Looks nice, and once the color heals, it's gonna really pop.”
Jensen nods seriously, stepping back from the mirror and agreeing with Jared's opinion on the new piece that had just been placed under his skin. The last tattoo to go on his left arm is a Day of the Dead skull, but done in a style that's more realistic than the traditional cartoon image of a skull.
“I really like yours too,” Jensen replies, grinning earnestly at Jared who's still looking down at the fresh piece on his forearm. “It's gonna look great once it heals.”
“I hope so. The last one took so long, I never thought it'd happen,” Jared laughs, buttoning up his sleeve around his elbow to keep it out of the way before putting on his sunglasses.
Their tattoo appointments hadn't been planned together, but when the time slots coincided-about a month after Jared moved in with Mindy-the two had decided to make a day of it. Tattoos, food, and maybe a movie if there's enough time left over. It's a long weekend, so they're really not in a rush.
“So...” Jared asks once they're outside, the two walking step-in-step down the busy New York street. “So do you think this is...”
“Do I think it's what?” Jensen asks, looking slightly amused and smiling at Jared, curious as to what the other man has to say.
“Do you think this is a-Oh forget it,” Jared stammers, still not sure what to call this thing between him and Jensen. Since the night of the party, the two have been spending a ridiculous amount of time together, never going further than a kiss on the cheek or a hug hello and goodbye. Jensen only lives a few blocks down from him and Mindy, so it's not as if anyone's going out of their way to see each other. It's a ritual that's evolved as naturally as Jared's dog grooming skills; get home, call, hang out, have fun. But any time Jensen attempts to even make a semblance of a move, Jared shies away, panicked as he remembers all too well that up until recently he was a married man. It doesn't feel right.
Thankfully, Jensen's yet to lose his temper, or do anything brash, like call off their friendship. It's something Jared appreciates more than Jensen will ever know.
“One of these days,” Jensen grins, “you're gonna stop back-pedalling and say what's on your mind. I look forward to that day. I'll probably be 80 or so, but you know, good things come to those that wait.” Jared laughs, lightly punching Jensen in the shoulder, careful not to get his fist anywhere near the new ink.
“So what are we having for dinner?”
“I was thinking Thai. Spicy, sweet... That little place just down the street from here is amazing. Have you tried it yet?”
“No, but it sound good, so let's go.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” Jared grins, not quite sure what to make of Jensen's reply.
“You're so easy to please, Jared. You always been like this?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say so? Why, is it a bad thing?” A taxi honks them out of the way, the driver clearly in too much of a hurry to wait for the light to turn green; Jared jumps, still not used to the hustle and bustle of the city.
“No, just different. Everyone here is so opinionated, so stuck in their ways, believe it or not, that it's refreshing to just get a straight answer out of someone.”
“Yeah, well I'm not from around here, and neither are you, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, that's true.”
Jared had been stoked to find out that Jensen hadn't merely been visiting his family, but had been born and bred in Amarillo just like Jared had. The night Jensen relinquished the fact, the two had spent several hours discussing the finer points of living in the south. From the food (“No one makes Barbeque like Milly's” Jensen had said) , to the clothing (“I am SO glad that I don't have to wear tight jeans any more,” Jared had laughed), to everything in between, the two had formed a deeper camaraderie than they already had, just by the simple fact that they had grown up not 50 miles from each other.
“You know when we get home, we could finally do what Mindy's been asking us to do all week...”
“Hmm?” Jared asks, having been lost in thought as they walk towards the restaurant, his eyes peering at Jensen in confusion.
“You know...”
“Yea-No. No. Absolutely not.” Jared laughs, shaking his head as he remembers his crazy roommate's request.
“Why not?”
“Because it's something that college kids do!”
“Oh come on. You haven't been high since college?”
“No. I wasn't high even IN college...”
“Are you serious?”
“I'm absolutely serious. What high school did you go to?”
“Palo Duro, you know that.”
“Okay, and did the kids at Palo Duro give you weed?”
“No, why would they?”
“Exactly. So why would they in college?”
“Because in college, it's required.” Jensen grins, not believing that Jared had never so much as taken a puff before taking a pass.
“Okay, but seriously? Why would I want to? We can paint without getting high.”
“Oh my god, who are you, Barney the Dinosaur? 'Say to no to drugs, kids!' Seriously Jared. We're gonna be in our living room. Windows closed, door locked, no one but us. What is the worst that could happen?”
“I told you, I told you, I told you, it was a bad idea,” Jared says to Jensen early the next morning, attempting to wake Mindy from her stupor for the fifth time by tickling her nose with a paintbrush. She's breathing and isn't blue in the face, so Jared's pretty sure she's just very, very drunk. And high. And hungover.
“Okay, but we didn't burn the apartment down. No one's hurt, or...maimed. We just got a little...creative, with the decorating.”
“Creative. Yeah. A huge dick on the wall, that's creative. I'm sure Mark Ryden would be proud.”
“Okay, who died and made you the Art God? Besides, we can always whitewash it. It's not like Mindy hasn't done that a million times before-”
“Do I even want to know?” Jared asks, his eyes closing as he attempts to block images of Mindy whitewashing bodily fluids off her wall from entering his mind.
“No. You probably don't, but that's not a bad thing. Regardless, it's just paint, it's just a dick. It's nothing you've never seen before. We'll fix it. Hell, we'll fix it before Mindy wakes up.”
“I think Mindy's in a coma,” Jared deadpans, his face managing to hold its serious pose for only a few seconds before he breaks into laughter right along with Jensen.
“Do we remember drawing this? Because I definitely don't remember being this high.”
“No, you were more drunk. I could only get you to take one puff and that was at the end of the night. You fell asleep promptly afterwards.”
“Nice to know I'm the 'cool' kid. The one that gets high, falls asleep, and gets drawn on. Awesome. Do I have a dick on my face?”
“No, you don't have a dick on your face. I'm not that kind of guy. If I'm putting a dick on your face, you're gonna feel it and it's not gonna be Sharpie.”
“Congratulations, you just made my stomach churn.”
“Oh, come on, Jared. Don't be a prude.”
“Hey! I'm not a prude, okay. I'm just not used to being...” Jared pauses, trying to think of a word that won't make Chad roll over in his grave.
“It's not a bad thing, Jared, to feel free,” Jensen cuts in, shaking his head. For someone who downed a fifth of whiskey the night before, Jensen looks pretty stone-cold sober now, and it scares Jared because he knows that while Jensen and Mindy can both be goofballs, they give solid advice that has yet to proof fruitless for Jared. “Doesn't mean you love them any less.” Jensen adds on to his prior comment, making Jared's eyes fall directly to the ground as they so often do when he knows Jensen's got a valid point.
“I know, I just...It feels wrong.”
“I know. It felt wrong for me too. Believe me, when Josh died, I didn't even want to smile-even if the joke was super funny-because I felt I'd be doing him an injustice.”
“Exactly,” Jared says, getting a little more upset than he usually does whenever Jensen broaches the topic.
“But Jared, Chad wouldn't have wanted this for you, would he? Would he have wanted you to wear black for the rest of your life, skulk around, lay out his clothes every day-”
“Okay, seriously, you're watching way too many 18th century movies,” Jared cuts in, shaking his head in disbelief, knowing that that exact ritual had been depicted in the movie they'd watched not two nights before.
“Okay, but you get my point, right?” Jensen asks, not about to let it go this time. Jared sighs and nods, knowing he's right.
“Yeah, I get your point. Just...baby steps, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Besides, you're too hot and I got nothing better going, so you know, I can wait.”
“You're such a dick.”
“Noo, the dick is on the wall. Jared, I think we've established this already.”
“Shut up.” Jared doesn't flinch this time when Jensen kisses him gently on the corner of his lips, the contact a little more intimate than usual, but no less welcome than its predecessors.
“So look, um, I know we've been beating around the bush a lot, and you're always telling me, baby steps, and baby steps, and baby steps, but,” Jensen pauses, making Jared look up later on that morning, attentive for the first time since their discussion about the artwork in the living room; hangovers are a lot worse than he remembered. Mindy still slumped in her sleep, the three of them having a semblance of breakfast-if McDonald's can even be called that-while sitting around the kitchen table, which is really just a heavy old door that Mindy filed down with a sander before stabbing it repeatedly like it was her cheating husband and coating it with varnish.
“But would you, um, would you go out with me? On a date? You know, romance, candles, sexy times after? The works?”
“Ahhhumm,” Jared scrabbles for something to say, trying not to offend Jensen and trying not to call Chad out of his grave like a zombie for a good, old-fashioned round of 'choke the widow'. “I'll take...The romance and candles for five hundred, Trebek.”
“What is, 'my best friend is a lame, lame man, who's afraid of dick'?”
“I'm not afraid of dick,” Jared corrects.
“You are so afraid of dick. Or more specifically, you're afraid of my dick which, I mean, it's big, but, you know, it's nothing to write to Guinness about.”
“Okay, you know what? You're this close to losing your date.”
“Okay, okay, I'm only kidding,” Jensen winces, giving Jared a bright grin as he finishes off his Egg McMuffin.
“What else is in the bag? I'm so hungry. Did we even eat last night?”
“Probably, but then we probably puked it all up at five in the morning, so it doesn't count. So, no.”
“DILDO!” Mindy suddenly shouts, as though having an epiphany, her blue eyes flashing wide open for a split second before she face plants the table again, back asleep as quick as she'd woken. Jared merely shakes his head, wondering how much more mischief he and his friends can get into, now that he's a permanent fixture in their lives.
chapter seven
“I like it. Looks nice, and once the color heals, it's gonna really pop.”
Jensen nods seriously, stepping back from the mirror and agreeing with Jared's opinion on the new piece that had just been placed under his skin. The last tattoo to go on his left arm is a Day of the Dead skull, but done in a style that's more realistic than the traditional cartoon image of a skull.
“I really like yours too,” Jensen replies, grinning earnestly at Jared who's still looking down at the fresh piece on his forearm. “It's gonna look great once it heals.”
“I hope so. The last one took so long, I never thought it'd happen,” Jared laughs, buttoning up his sleeve around his elbow to keep it out of the way before putting on his sunglasses.
Their tattoo appointments hadn't been planned together, but when the time slots coincided-about a month after Jared moved in with Mindy-the two had decided to make a day of it. Tattoos, food, and maybe a movie if there's enough time left over. It's a long weekend, so they're really not in a rush.
“So...” Jared asks once they're outside, the two walking step-in-step down the busy New York street. “So do you think this is...”
“Do I think it's what?” Jensen asks, looking slightly amused and smiling at Jared, curious as to what the other man has to say.
“Do you think this is a-Oh forget it,” Jared stammers, still not sure what to call this thing between him and Jensen. Since the night of the party, the two have been spending a ridiculous amount of time together, never going further than a kiss on the cheek or a hug hello and goodbye. Jensen only lives a few blocks down from him and Mindy, so it's not as if anyone's going out of their way to see each other. It's a ritual that's evolved as naturally as Jared's dog grooming skills; get home, call, hang out, have fun. But any time Jensen attempts to even make a semblance of a move, Jared shies away, panicked as he remembers all too well that up until recently he was a married man. It doesn't feel right.
Thankfully, Jensen's yet to lose his temper, or do anything brash, like call off their friendship. It's something Jared appreciates more than Jensen will ever know.
“One of these days,” Jensen grins, “you're gonna stop back-pedalling and say what's on your mind. I look forward to that day. I'll probably be 80 or so, but you know, good things come to those that wait.” Jared laughs, lightly punching Jensen in the shoulder, careful not to get his fist anywhere near the new ink.
“So what are we having for dinner?”
“I was thinking Thai. Spicy, sweet... That little place just down the street from here is amazing. Have you tried it yet?”
“No, but it sound good, so let's go.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” Jared grins, not quite sure what to make of Jensen's reply.
“You're so easy to please, Jared. You always been like this?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say so? Why, is it a bad thing?” A taxi honks them out of the way, the driver clearly in too much of a hurry to wait for the light to turn green; Jared jumps, still not used to the hustle and bustle of the city.
“No, just different. Everyone here is so opinionated, so stuck in their ways, believe it or not, that it's refreshing to just get a straight answer out of someone.”
“Yeah, well I'm not from around here, and neither are you, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, that's true.”
Jared had been stoked to find out that Jensen hadn't merely been visiting his family, but had been born and bred in Amarillo just like Jared had. The night Jensen relinquished the fact, the two had spent several hours discussing the finer points of living in the south. From the food (“No one makes Barbeque like Milly's” Jensen had said) , to the clothing (“I am SO glad that I don't have to wear tight jeans any more,” Jared had laughed), to everything in between, the two had formed a deeper camaraderie than they already had, just by the simple fact that they had grown up not 50 miles from each other.
“You know when we get home, we could finally do what Mindy's been asking us to do all week...”
“Hmm?” Jared asks, having been lost in thought as they walk towards the restaurant, his eyes peering at Jensen in confusion.
“You know...”
“Yea-No. No. Absolutely not.” Jared laughs, shaking his head as he remembers his crazy roommate's request.
“Why not?”
“Because it's something that college kids do!”
“Oh come on. You haven't been high since college?”
“No. I wasn't high even IN college...”
“Are you serious?”
“I'm absolutely serious. What high school did you go to?”
“Palo Duro, you know that.”
“Okay, and did the kids at Palo Duro give you weed?”
“No, why would they?”
“Exactly. So why would they in college?”
“Because in college, it's required.” Jensen grins, not believing that Jared had never so much as taken a puff before taking a pass.
“Okay, but seriously? Why would I want to? We can paint without getting high.”
“Oh my god, who are you, Barney the Dinosaur? 'Say to no to drugs, kids!' Seriously Jared. We're gonna be in our living room. Windows closed, door locked, no one but us. What is the worst that could happen?”
“I told you, I told you, I told you, it was a bad idea,” Jared says to Jensen early the next morning, attempting to wake Mindy from her stupor for the fifth time by tickling her nose with a paintbrush. She's breathing and isn't blue in the face, so Jared's pretty sure she's just very, very drunk. And high. And hungover.
“Okay, but we didn't burn the apartment down. No one's hurt, or...maimed. We just got a little...creative, with the decorating.”
“Creative. Yeah. A huge dick on the wall, that's creative. I'm sure Mark Ryden would be proud.”
“Okay, who died and made you the Art God? Besides, we can always whitewash it. It's not like Mindy hasn't done that a million times before-”
“Do I even want to know?” Jared asks, his eyes closing as he attempts to block images of Mindy whitewashing bodily fluids off her wall from entering his mind.
“No. You probably don't, but that's not a bad thing. Regardless, it's just paint, it's just a dick. It's nothing you've never seen before. We'll fix it. Hell, we'll fix it before Mindy wakes up.”
“I think Mindy's in a coma,” Jared deadpans, his face managing to hold its serious pose for only a few seconds before he breaks into laughter right along with Jensen.
“Do we remember drawing this? Because I definitely don't remember being this high.”
“No, you were more drunk. I could only get you to take one puff and that was at the end of the night. You fell asleep promptly afterwards.”
“Nice to know I'm the 'cool' kid. The one that gets high, falls asleep, and gets drawn on. Awesome. Do I have a dick on my face?”
“No, you don't have a dick on your face. I'm not that kind of guy. If I'm putting a dick on your face, you're gonna feel it and it's not gonna be Sharpie.”
“Congratulations, you just made my stomach churn.”
“Oh, come on, Jared. Don't be a prude.”
“Hey! I'm not a prude, okay. I'm just not used to being...” Jared pauses, trying to think of a word that won't make Chad roll over in his grave.
“It's not a bad thing, Jared, to feel free,” Jensen cuts in, shaking his head. For someone who downed a fifth of whiskey the night before, Jensen looks pretty stone-cold sober now, and it scares Jared because he knows that while Jensen and Mindy can both be goofballs, they give solid advice that has yet to proof fruitless for Jared. “Doesn't mean you love them any less.” Jensen adds on to his prior comment, making Jared's eyes fall directly to the ground as they so often do when he knows Jensen's got a valid point.
“I know, I just...It feels wrong.”
“I know. It felt wrong for me too. Believe me, when Josh died, I didn't even want to smile-even if the joke was super funny-because I felt I'd be doing him an injustice.”
“Exactly,” Jared says, getting a little more upset than he usually does whenever Jensen broaches the topic.
“But Jared, Chad wouldn't have wanted this for you, would he? Would he have wanted you to wear black for the rest of your life, skulk around, lay out his clothes every day-”
“Okay, seriously, you're watching way too many 18th century movies,” Jared cuts in, shaking his head in disbelief, knowing that that exact ritual had been depicted in the movie they'd watched not two nights before.
“Okay, but you get my point, right?” Jensen asks, not about to let it go this time. Jared sighs and nods, knowing he's right.
“Yeah, I get your point. Just...baby steps, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Besides, you're too hot and I got nothing better going, so you know, I can wait.”
“You're such a dick.”
“Noo, the dick is on the wall. Jared, I think we've established this already.”
“Shut up.” Jared doesn't flinch this time when Jensen kisses him gently on the corner of his lips, the contact a little more intimate than usual, but no less welcome than its predecessors.
“So look, um, I know we've been beating around the bush a lot, and you're always telling me, baby steps, and baby steps, and baby steps, but,” Jensen pauses, making Jared look up later on that morning, attentive for the first time since their discussion about the artwork in the living room; hangovers are a lot worse than he remembered. Mindy still slumped in her sleep, the three of them having a semblance of breakfast-if McDonald's can even be called that-while sitting around the kitchen table, which is really just a heavy old door that Mindy filed down with a sander before stabbing it repeatedly like it was her cheating husband and coating it with varnish.
“But would you, um, would you go out with me? On a date? You know, romance, candles, sexy times after? The works?”
“Ahhhumm,” Jared scrabbles for something to say, trying not to offend Jensen and trying not to call Chad out of his grave like a zombie for a good, old-fashioned round of 'choke the widow'. “I'll take...The romance and candles for five hundred, Trebek.”
“What is, 'my best friend is a lame, lame man, who's afraid of dick'?”
“I'm not afraid of dick,” Jared corrects.
“You are so afraid of dick. Or more specifically, you're afraid of my dick which, I mean, it's big, but, you know, it's nothing to write to Guinness about.”
“Okay, you know what? You're this close to losing your date.”
“Okay, okay, I'm only kidding,” Jensen winces, giving Jared a bright grin as he finishes off his Egg McMuffin.
“What else is in the bag? I'm so hungry. Did we even eat last night?”
“Probably, but then we probably puked it all up at five in the morning, so it doesn't count. So, no.”
“DILDO!” Mindy suddenly shouts, as though having an epiphany, her blue eyes flashing wide open for a split second before she face plants the table again, back asleep as quick as she'd woken. Jared merely shakes his head, wondering how much more mischief he and his friends can get into, now that he's a permanent fixture in their lives.
chapter seven