One Small Step, Ch. 1/6, [R], RPS, AU, Jensen/Jared

[sandymg]

“Jensen Ackles is getting married.”

Jared hears Sandy’s words but they don’t process. “What did you just say?”

His best friend touches his cheek. Jared flinches because touching. But he fights it back. Be normal. “Jared. I’m sorry.” She removes her hand but keeps his gaze. He pushes against the disquiet. Loses. He drifts his eyes up and looks at her perfectly shaped eyebrows instead. She knows what he’s doing. Most don’t realize. But she knows his tricks. Usually he doesn’t have to use them with her. But … He sucks in air and waits for her to continue. Because it’s not possible he heard what he thinks he heard.

“I’m sorry, Jare. Jensen’s getting married. He told me himself.”

“M-married? But. But … that’s not. Who?”

“Tom Welling. You know how hard they’ve been working to get the marriage equality bill through the legislature. I think they want to be the first two to show up at City Hall. It’ll be a media circus. You know how Tom thrives on that.”

A single word flashes like a beacon through his mind.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Sandy shakes him. “Jared … Jared, stop!”

The tremors zip up his spine and vibrate like a current ripping through him. He gulps for air but his throat is clamped shut, tight and constricted and his face is ablaze and the stars start twinkling out, falling away, swirling like a cyclone out of reach. Filling the world with black.

“Jared! Oh god. Honey, breathe, please … take it slow. You’ll be okay. I know … I know how much you liked him. I’m so sorry. An’ it’s wrong because he doesn’t love Tom. It’s just a show. Dammit. Jare, please … slow, deep breaths.”

Familiar and warm. Like a song. Like music. With its steady beat and repetitive rhythm. And sense. Music made sense. Sandy. Sandy is singing.

“Twinkle, twinkle little star … how I wonder where you are? … “

He opens his eyes. Her pretty face gazes down at him in what he guesses must be concern. The tile is cool and smooth beneath his fingertips as he pushes himself up slowly. “I … What?”

“You had a panic attack. Fainted. Breathe slow, okay?”

He inhales air carefully. Feels it pass his nostrils, down his chest, filling the cavity with gaseous nourishment. In the lunar program the astronauts breathed pure oxygen. “Caused the fire.”

“What?” Sandy’s brows rise.

“Apollo One. The astronauts warned them, you know. The crew, Grissom, Chaffee, White. They were worried about flammables in the cockpit. Should have listened to them. After that, crew concerns were taken more seriously.”

He is gifted with a weak smile. Sandy knows that talking about space makes Jared feel better. Safe. She’s always indulged him.

“Twelve humans walked on the moon.” Her smile is small but steady as she brushes his hair back from his face.

Jared smiles back. “How incredible is that?”

She tucks her long, wavy hair behind one ear. “Feeling a little better? Want to talk about it?”

Jensen. Married. Out of Jared’s reach forever. Not that Jared has him anywhere near his reach. Jared is just about invisible. Oh sure, Jensen is polite. Sometimes Jared gets to drop off a package personally to Jensen and not to Sandy, his assistant. On those occasions, Jensen always smiles and says, “Hey Jared. Howya doin’?”

And Jared forces his eyes up to meet Jensen’s like he knows he should. Because you look people in the eye if you want to be friendly. He knew all that even before he met Sandy. She reinforced it is all. Years of therapy have taught him how to act. How to blend in. When you make eye contact, just make sure you're smiling (even though it feels uncomfortable). Some people misconstrue this as flirty, but (almost) no one will be put off by it or misinterpret it as aggressive. Mirror the person you're talking to. If they break eye contact, look away for a moment or two. That way they won't think you're staring.

“He’s getting married?” Jared asks now, voice wispy soft. Of course Jensen is getting married. He’s Jensen. The most beautiful man in the universe. Not that Jared believes that extraterrestrial life would necessarily be humanoid. In fact, it is highly unlikely that this would be the case. But it doesn’t mean that Jensen wouldn’t still be the most beautiful living thing ever. Some things just are.

“He asked if I would manage the wedding plans.” Sandy pauses, fingers twirling her hair into little curlicues. Jared knows that means she feels bad. Some Aspies can’t read people at all. Jared isn’t like that. He can suss out NT ticks. Especially if he knows the person well. If he tries. Doctors called him atypical and high functioning. Whatever. Only some people make him stupid. Make him forget to fake it. Well, not really people. More like one person.

“It’s stupid to always answer fine. But I always feel fine when he’s smiling at me. Have you noticed how his eyes crinkle in the corners? Like little pathways that trail along his temple. And he tips his head back when he laughs and his eyes shut sometimes and the sound is like a bark … only smoother … like it was drowned in expensive whiskey.”

Sandy’s fingers trail his face again. It didn’t bother him this time. Felt soft. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“I’m stupid. So stupid to think-“

“No. Jare, you’re not stupid. Don’t say-“

“Oh my god … Jared, are you okay?”

Jared’s heart implodes like a stone reentering the atmosphere. Because that’s Jensen’s voice. He struggles frantically to get up, nearly toppling petite Sandy down in the process. Jensen reaches for her before she tumbles backward. Then a tight grip squeezes Jared’s bicep. And the scent of expensive cologne fills his nostrils. It’s getting hard to breathe again. No. Shit. Stop. Not now. Not in front of …

“I … I’m fine.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Say something else. He just found you flat on your ass in the mailroom, you idiot. “I mean. I … well, I … didn’t feel so good. But now. Now I feel fine.” See? Stupid. Like he forgets how to talk altogether.

“Did you pass out? We should call a doctor. Or c’mon, we’ll visit the ER for a quick look over.”

“No! I don’t want to go to the doctor. I’m okay.” He forces a calming breath into his lungs. “You know lots of folks think the Lunar Module, the Lem, was covered in foil. The gold covering, it looks … looks like foil but really it’s plastic. A super thin film that was coated with aluminum. It absorbed the sun’s rays and protected the craft against micrometeoroids.”

Jensen’s brows come together and Jared thinks he should know what that means. But he doesn’t. “Um-hmm.” A large hand settles on Jared’s shoulder. It’s warm but it doesn’t make him flinch. Weird. “Jared … you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“He just skipped breakfast. Affects him sometimes.”

Jared meet Sandy’s eyes gratefully and manages to hold her gaze a few moments before looking away. He forces himself calmer. “Breakfast is important. Can I help you with something, Jensen?” Jared stares at the FedEx that Jensen holds in one hand.

Jensen seems surprised at the envelope. He pulls back and Jared misses his touch immediately. Really, really weird. “I just needed to drop this off. Figured I’d bring it by since Sandy was … well, I guess she was here.”

“Sorry-“ Sandy interrupts.

“No, not at all. It’s fine,” Jensen brushes off her apology. “I’m glad you were here.” His eyes return to Jared. So beautiful. Jared didn’t think anybody could have eyes that he’d think beautiful. He doesn’t look at people’s eyes very much. Usually make him feel flustered, crowded, even queasy. But not Jensen’s. They are oddly calming. Like studying a planetary nebulae glowing a sparkling green within an inky black void.

Jensen blinks, breaking their stare. Sandy told him NTs also got lost in their heads sometimes. He appreciated hearing that. But Jensen is here with a job for Jared. “Drop that on my desk. I’ll take care of it.”

Stepping back, Jared’s eyes follow Jensen’s arm putting down the envelope.

“Okay. I … thanks.”

Sandy coughs, catching Jared’s attention. “I should get back to work.” She takes a quick glance toward her boss, looks back. “We’ll talk again later, Jare. It’ll be … later, okay?”

Jared nods at her, forcing himself to meet her eyes so that she’ll know he is alright. He expects Jensen to follow her out of the mailroom and is surprised when he is still standing there after she leaves.

“I just … Can you email me the tracking number so I can follow it at my desk?”

“I’ll track it for you. It’s my job to do that.”

“I know. I didn’t mean you wouldn’t … I just want to check it myself. It’s a contract for a new author. Very skittish. Wanna make sure she signs.”

Jared nods. Once more he expects Jensen to leave. But he doesn’t. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Flushing, Jared looks down at his desk, practically staring a hole through its carefully stacked piles. “Yes. Sure. I … Sandy … she told me. So I should … I mean I want to say, congratulations.”

“Thanks. This bill’s been a long time coming. Shame that New York should take so long to simply offer us what everyone else had all along, you know.”

Jared looks up. He knows how important this is to Jensen. He thinks it‘s important, too. Only in his stupid fantasies it included himself and Jensen. You’re an idiot. Like Jensen would ever consider you good enough to …

“ … Maybe you’ll get married one day, too, Jared. Right?”

“Huh?”

“Are you dating anyone now?”

“N-no. No one. I don’t-“

“Well that’s fine. You’re still young. One day, though, you’ll meet someone special. That’s why this matters. Why it’s important. For you. For every gay man or woman who wants to be able to commit to someone.” Jared can’t identify the look that passes over Jensen’s face. “Been fighting a long time for this. Feels like my whole life.”

“Tom Welling. His book. You brought it to everyone. And the Arcus imprint. That made a difference.” Jared was seventeen when Welling’s book hit the bestseller list. And he begrudgingly has to admit it made a difference in his mixed up world. One more thing he needed to understand about himself. Welling’s stark memoir about a gay boy figuring things out. Even though that boy was nothing like Jared. It helped.

Jared knows that Jensen discovered the book as a young assistant editor. That he pushed it up the chain until it got noticed. That he initiated the Arcus imprint that dealt with lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender issues as well as promoting LGBT writers. At thirty-three, Jensen is now one of the youngest publishers in the business, running his own imprint and introducing a slew of new writers to the public.

And that doesn’t even touch on his political activism.

“Yeah, Tom’s a good pal.”

Jared startles at this. “You mean partner?”

Jensen blinks. “Yes. Of course. Partner.” He runs his hand over the back of his hair, a nervous habit that Jared has amazingly noticed. Only Sandy told him it wasn’t one of those he was supposed to imitate. It’s hard to keep it all straight sometimes. “I should … “ Jensen points vaguely toward the door.

“I’ll take care of your FedEx and email you the tracking info.”

Jensen takes one step toward the doorway before turning back. He runs his hand through his hair again. “I know you didn’t have breakfast. So I guess you didn’t have lunch yet either?”

“No. Not yet. I’ll input this first and then-“

“No. I mean, that can wait. You should eat. Hell, can’t have you passing out again.” Jensen meets his stare dead on and Jared feels like the nebula is going to swallow him whole. “C’mon, I’ll take you to lunch.”

“N-no. I can’t. I have work and … “

“Gotta eat, right?”

“Yes, but … “

“Burgers okay? You look like a burger kind of guy.”

“I look like I like meat?”

Jensen colors slightly and drops his gaze. Jared figures it means something but damn if he knows what. Stupid NTs with their so-called body language.

Despite thinking that this will turn into a disaster of Titanic proportions Jared follows Jensen out the door.



Jensen takes a bite of his burger, licking around his lips as the ketchup squirts out. Wow. He must have been hungrier than he thought because it’s just about the best thing he’s ever tasted. It’s been a long time since Jensen bothered to eat lunch out. And even longer since he’s invited anyone with him. Jared’s sitting directly across from Jensen. His peculiar coworker puts his own burger down and picks up a French fry, carefully dipping it in the little well of ketchup he’d squirted before bringing it to his broad lips.

And that’s another thing … why is Jensen noticing Jared’s lips all of a sudden? It’s just that seeing the tall man sitting on the floor, clearly looking like he’d just fallen, face ashen and eyes moist … it had just about stopped Jensen’s heart cold. It’s not that he’s never noticed Jared before. How could he not? The boy is gorgeous. Tall and built with eyes that shimmer like the sun bursting through a misty gray blue sky. Openly gay, which pleases Jensen. Nothing upsets him as much as someone who believes he has to negate who he is. Jared is a little odd, admittedly. Jensen long figured Jared has a learning disability or some such thing. But he does his job well and always bestows Jensen a smile that could melt butter. Has these little nervous habits like looking down too often. Shame. With eyes like that he never needs to hide.

“ … mother committed suicide about a year before the mission.”

Jensen starts from his musings, realizing that Jared is still talking about the Apollo missions. It’s pretty much all he’s talked about since lunch began. He’s never met anyone quite as obsessed with the moon as Jared.

“What?” he asks with an apologetic look.

“I said that Buzz Aldrin’s mother took her own life a year before Apollo 11.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that.”

Jared twists his head in a considering way. “You know, twelve human beings walked on the moon. Name more than two. Name the third person to ever set foot on another planet.”

“Nobody.” Jared’s face scrunches in confusion. Jensen waits a beat. “The moon isn’t a planet.”

It takes a second for Jensen’s words to register and then Jared’s lips curve up in a dimples-producing smile. It warms Jensen like he’d stepped under a heat lamp. Jensen gives in. “I’m teasing. You are right. Everyone should know Pete Conrad and Alan Bean’s names.”

Jared’s mouth opens in a gape and Jensen laughs. “You knew,” Jared blurts.

Jensen smiles, oddly pleased with himself at surprising Jared. “I did. But only because we did a book covering Bean’s art. Truth is, until that book I didn’t know. And … I still don’t know the fifth or sixth man to walk on the moon. Hey, how many were there again altogether?”

“Twelve walked on it. And another twelve got within about sixty miles. I always wonder what it felt like to be the Command Module pilot. To get so close but not land.”

“Oh man, think that would have made me nuts.”

Jared shifts a fry on his plate further away from the slight bit of leftover burger. Jensen notes the pile of lettuce and tomato that Jared has moved completely off his plate, eating his burger plain. Nothing on it. No cheese. No ketchup. To each his own, he figures.

“Not me.”

Jensen peers across the table. “Not you what?”

“I wouldn’t have minded being the Command Module pilot. Circling the moon, waiting to bring his crew home. I don’t think they could have done what they did without knowing he was there, you know. He was their lifeline. They were two-hundred and forty thousand miles from home. So far away that our entire world looked no bigger than a kid’s marble. They were the only two people in their entire world. When … I feel alone, I think of that. And then I think of the CM pilot. Orbiting a dead satellite. That’s alone. Really, truly alone. Except you have a very important job to do. And that’s enough to keep you going. Even when communication vanished on the far side. On Apollo 11, Michael Collins orbited the moon fourteen times. Every time he reached the far side he spent forty-eight minutes in complete silence because the radio communication cut out. They call it ‘Loss of Signal.’

“I think … I mean to me ... that’s what a hero is. It’s not being disappointed. It’s doing your job. It’s bringing your comrades home.”

Jensen is surprised at the moisture suddenly behind his eyes. Just as he is shocked to find Jared’s equally liquid gaze staring at him. Jensen’d been feeling pretty special lately. He’d felt like he accomplished something worthwhile having helped bring about New York’s historic marriage equality legislation. And it is important and will benefit so many. But there is something about the loneliness he senses in Jared’s unexpected stare that helps bring perspective.

“I recognized his name, Michael Collins, when you said it. But before that. If you’d just asked me to name the Command Module pilot for Apollo 11, I wouldn’t have known it. And that’s just wrong. So, thank you for sharing that.”

Jared keeps looking at him. Almost to the point where Jensen starts to feel self-conscious. He blinks and picks up his Coke.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Jared gently nudges his plate away from him. “I know I get carried away with this. It’s stupid and I’m not supposed to-Anyway, thank you for taking me to lunch. Nobody has … well, Sandy. But she’s my friend. I mean even out of work. I mean, she helped me get the job.”

“Jared. It’s fine. I’m glad you accepted. I don’t get out of the office enough.”

“Of course not. You’re important.”

Jensen pulls out his wallet and leaves enough to cover their modest lunch plus tip. “You are, too. Hell, we couldn’t function without you. Email hasn’t replaced everything. And as much as E-books are clearly the future I sure hope there will always be a place for traditional books. What do you think?”

Jared is staring at the ring on the table left by his glass, long finger curving around and around the shape. Jensen doesn’t remember the last time he’d had chocolate milk. Jared had ordered one and downed it before the meal arrived. Jensen tries to imagine Tom with chocolate milk and the immediate never that comes to mind leaves him chilled.

“I have to go back to work,” Jared exclaims suddenly.

“Oh. Okay, yeah sure. Bill’s all taken care of.”

Standing up quickly Jared heads to the door. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh … that’s fine I’ll wait for you-“

“No.” Jared’s face pales. “I … I can’t go here.”

“I know this place isn’t fancy but the restrooms are clean. Why be uncomfortable?”

Jared ignores him and quickly steps around the crowded tables until he’s back on the sidewalk.

Jensen hurries to catch up. “I always go in the office. I know it there.” Jared stares at the pavement beneath his feet.

“Sure, buddy. Let’s get you back, alright?” Jensen isn’t sure what to make of this.

Jared’s eyes are still down and he fidgets until Jensen starts walking in the direction of the office. Once they reach the elevator Jared looks toward him fleetingly. “E-books are fine. But real books smell better.”

Laughing despite himself Jensen has to agree. “They sure do.”

He follows Jared into the men’s room and silently both men take care of business. Jared washes his hands slow and deliberate. Something about it strikes Jensen as childlike and it brings a smile to his face. He’s a mystery, this one. Whatever difference he has he’s clearly intelligent. Yet … at his age and obvious intellect why isn’t he doing better than the mail room? He wonders if it’s just a matter of opportunity.

“How long have you been working for us now, Jared?”

They stop in the hallway outside the mailroom. “Six months.” Jared’s nervousness is evident in his quiver.

“Relax. You’re doing a great job. Just wondering if there was something else for you in our organization. What your goals are.”

“I … You won’t … It’s stupid.”

Jensen reaches out and puts a hand on Jared’s arm. “I won’t think it’s stupid. What were you going to say?”

“I draw this comic. It’s about a boy who is living on Earth but really he’s from another planet. Not from here at all. And so he has to learn everything. Figure out everything. Because it’s not easy being the only one on the planet who’s not really from here.”

“I would imagine it would be. So you’re a writer and an artist?”

“No. Not a writer. Not really. Not like … Tom. He … his words. I can understand why you-“

“Tom’s very talented. Made my career.” At the word Jensen realizes just how long he’d been away from his desk, it pushes all other thoughts away as the million things he has to do come front and center. “Got a lot to take care of if I’m going to go off on vacation in a month. See ya Jared.”

Jared’s voice drops an octave. “Vacation?”

Jensen smiles at him. “My honeymoon.”

“One month?”

“Assuming your friend Sandy pulls it off. But you know how amazing she is, right? We’re going to be among the first gay couples to get married under the new law. Show ‘em all, you know.”

He walks away as Jared slowly enters his windowless domain. It bothers Jensen a moment that the mailroom is located in such a dark spot. Doesn’t seem fair. Jared looks better in the sunshine. Makes his already sun-kissed skin glow even more.



“Sandy, you can’t know that. You can’t read minds. If he’s marrying Tom Welling then he must be in love with him.”

Sandy twirls her hair and juts her chin up. Jared ponders the combination while taking in her words.

“They’re friends. There’s no question there. Been friends a long time. And they share the same passions. But that’s not the same as having passion between them.” Sandy turns away. Her voice is raspy and Jared suddenly gets that she’s frustrated. Possibly angry. But why would she be angry?

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? No. Not at you. Why would I be … ? Jared, Jensen’s my boss, so it’s not really my place to tell him what to do. But his need to make a point is robbing him of a chance at a life.”

“Having a husband. A family. That’s a life, Sandy.” It’s a life he wishes he could have. His chest feels tight suddenly and he quits trying to look Sandy in the eye.

She’s gone back to chopping vegetables. They are cooking together. She often comes over on Sunday and they make a big batch of something and then split it up and have food for the week. This works for Jared. He can separate things in small, freezer-ready containers. And things don’t have to mix that don’t need to. Jared doesn’t like his food touching other foods any more than necessary.

He’s spreading the no-boil lasagna noodles in a baking dish. His mouth purses. “This will work? How can it cook?” Despite the attempt to distract himself away from her words, he can’t. He imagines Jensen in a tuxedo standing next to Tom. They look like dolls in their inhuman perfection. Of course Jensen will marry Tom. They are alike. They fit. Jared can’t even imagine what that feels like. His mind reverts back to the pasta.

“John Glenn was charged with making sure astronauts would be able to eat in zero-gravity. They were afraid he wasn’t going to be able to swallow. The food wasn’t very good - he squirted it into his mouth out of a tube. Of course, Glenn was able to eat and so it was proven that microgravity didn’t affect our ability to swallow. By the time of Apollo they improved it because the astronauts had hot water so they could reconstitute freeze-dried items.” His glance falls on the pasta box. “Betcha this is similar.”

Sandy giggles. “See. We’re eating like the astronauts. I knew you’d like that.”

He smiles back at her before layering the sauce and cheese over the noodles. She comes over and spreads the vegetables she’s chopped over the top. “No meat,” he tells her unnecessarily. She already knows how he feels about mixing meat with other things. He eats meat. As long as it’s by itself.

“Hey, it’s fine. I love vegetable lasagna. Healthier, too.”

She helps him finish and holds the oven door open for him as he inserts the baking dish. Back in his living room she plops on his sofa. “Damn. I don’t know how he thinks I can pull this off in a month. Well, the truth is I won’t be able to without a lot of-“

Jared waits but she never finishes. “San?”

“You have to help me.”

“Help you what?”

“Plan the wedding.”

Jared stares at her. Which really shows how nuts he thinks that idea is. “Are you out of your mind? Why not just jab a pen through my eye. Be quicker.”

“Funny.”

“Not as much as you are. What can you be thinking?”

“Nobody is as organized as you are, Jared. Or a better planner. I … it’s too much to take this on by myself. I need you to help me. Please. I’ll get Jensen to talk to your supervisor and get your normal work covered for the month. You can be my assistant. They’d do anything for Jensen.”

“I don’t want to.”

Sandy’s eyes grow bigger. Even he knows blatant pleading when he sees it. She’s like a cartoon character with her expression. “Please Jared. That’s why it’s a favor. Remember what I told you about that?”

“Favors suck. But we do them anyway.” He sighs. If this was anyone else. But she’s done so much for him. Told him about this job and worked with him for a week straight to get ready for the interview. She’s his best friend. His first best friend.

“Okay. Talk to the bosses. And if they can work out coverage then I’ll help you.”

Sandy’s eyes twinkle. Gratitude, Jared assumes. He fights an inner groan. Now he has to help the man he’s uselessly crushed on since he first laid eyes on him go begin his happily ever after with someone else.

“This sucks,” he breathes out.

“Jare. I know. But … trust me. Okay?”

“Trust you about what?” he asks puzzled.

Her gaze locks with his for another enigmatic moment before she springs up to tidy the kitchen.

To Chapter 2

To Master Post