One Small Step, Ch. 2/6, [R], RPS, AU, Jensen/Jared

[sandymg]

“But I thought we agreed that you’d work with a wedding planner?” Jensen gawks at his assistant, unsure why Sandy’s new suggestion has so completely thrown him for a loop.

She dismisses his objection with a quick wave. “They’ll take over and won’t listen and it’ll just make more work for me. Trust me, Jensen. I can do this. Just let me have Jared to help me.”

Jensen runs his hand over the back of his head. It’s not like the idea is so left-field given the friendship Jensen knows Sandy and Jared share. It’s just that since taking Jared to lunch he hasn’t quite been able to stop thinking about him. Not every thought being in any way appropriate. And if he’s helping to plan the wedding then Jared would be around more and …

“Jensen. Will you speak with John about Jared’s duties?”

“Yeah. I … I will. And Danni already said whatever you need while you help me out.”

“I know she did. We have it covered. No worries about that. Besides, your schedule is being wound down so you can take your vacation.”

Jensen looks up from where he let his eyes rest on the manuscript he’d been reading until Sandy came in to restructure his world. “Jared’s organized?” he repeats even though Sandy had already told him this.

“Yes. The best. Well, you’ve seen how he runs the mailroom. There hasn’t been a package that didn’t make its destination since he was hired. Remember when Stanley was in charge, and before him Rhonda? Jeeze … it was like potluck trying to get something delivered.”

Jensen chuckles. “I remember. She’d treat the mailroom like her personal spa. Never knew what to expect when I went in there. One time she was clipping her toenails.”

“What? Ugh. No.”

“Yep. And let me tell you. That is one sight that would turn even the straightest guy gay.”

Sandy snickers. “Stanley would sneak in naps. Snored like a plane taking off.”

Now they are both giggling. “It’s definitely better now. Whenever I go into the mailroom Jared’s working away. Hard to get his attention.”

He hadn’t meant it as a slight but Sandy is quick to defend. “Once he focuses it’s hard for him to turn away. But if you’re patient-“

“I didn’t mean it like that, Sandy. It’s … “ Jensen cuts himself off because he was about to say that Jared’s concentrated intensity is sort of adorable and why in hell is he thinking this? He swallows. “He’s very diligent. Does a good job considering he’s … “ Jensen stops again. Since when did he develop foot in mouth disease?

Sandy takes pity. “The word you’re looking for is different.” She eases the momentary tension with a small but heartfelt smile.

“You’re Jared’s friend and I don’t want to put you on the spot. I just couldn’t help but notice … he’s obviously very bright. Yet there is something, isn’t there?”

“I have to respect Jared’s privacy. But it’s okay to ask him directly. Truth is, he’s the most honest person you’ll ever meet.”

* * *
Tom is perfect. All-American good looks -- tall, built, aqua-blue eyes and mahogany hair. He speaks in a flat non-accent and smiles like there’s a camera pointed at him at all times. Jensen met Tom when they were both twenty-two. He’s still not sure how Tom got Jensen’s name. Jensen’d been working at the publishing house for barely three months. He was an assistant to an assistant. He was nobody. But Tom is the consummate networker. Taught him everything when it came to that. Made both their careers.

Despite the press buzz it isn’t true that they were fast friends. More like good acquaintances with a shared drive and common beliefs. Tom wanted to get published. Jensen wanted to share Tom’s book with the world. He knew what it would have meant to have a book like Tom’s just a few years back when he was struggling with his own baggage. Now, of course, they are friends. Sometimes fuck buddies. And soon to be married.

Jensen reminds himself how important this is. How hard he worked for it. How much it will mean to others.

He’s been studying Tom across his small dining table. After a moment his friend squints under the unexpected scrutiny. “What’s up?”

Blinking quickly Jensen pokes at his steak. “Nothing. Work is winding down. Not used to the free time. ‘S odd.”

“Yeah. I know. Nice to have dinner together though, right?”

“Yeah. Sure.” It has been a while. The conversation tonight has been sparse. For so long it had been about passing the bill. It’s like they’ve both run out of steam.

Tom makes quick work of his dinner. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and looks at his watch.

“Well. I’d better get going.”

“What? I mean, I thought we’d get to hang out. It’s been forever since we had a free night. Do you-“

“Yeah. I got some folks to meet up with. We’re trying to jumpstart the NJ coalition. And there’s still the California thing. You know.”

Jensen knows all that. It’s the way it always is and this stupid engagement certainly isn’t going to change that. It’s just that Jensen suddenly has extra time on his hands and it’s left him rattled. It’s nothing.

“Hey, since you have time can you work on the list?” Tom slips him a sheath of paper from his pocket. Jensen looks it over. Mostly members of LGBT organizations and liberal-minded press.

“Is this for a press conference?”

Tom’s eyes narrow. “No. It’s the guest list for the wedding.”

“I thought … I mean I knew before or whatever. But the wedding itself is private. Isn’t it?”

“Jensen. Please. Nothing is private. You know that. Everything I … we … do is watched. But that’s good. Because everyone will see two gay men getting married in the state of New York. About fuckin’ time.”

Of course that’s what this about. Will make a difference. Inspirational.

Tom comes closer and squeezes his upper arm. “You okay, bud?”

Jensen lifts his face and presses his lips dryly to Tom’s. They are slightly chapped and sticky with steak sauce. For a fleeting moment he thinks to deepen the kiss, which is odd in and of itself because they don’t kiss much and never for long. Tom seems to be on the same general wave length as he pulls Jensen closer.

“Mmm. Might have time for a quickie.”

Jensen has no idea why he’s twisting away and saying he’s tired when he’s not. He’s irritated suddenly. Not sure at what or whom and Tom’s words are irking him in a way they never had before.

He walks Tom to the door. For a moment he wonders what it’ll feel like when he can’t do this. Can’t show Tom out. It spills out of his mouth before he can think better of it. “Guess we’ll have to decide which apartment to keep.”

“What?” Tom questions, eyes wide.

“I mean after we’re married. Gotta pick one to live in. Yours is bigger. I’m just used to this place is all.”

Tom chuckles. “You can keep your apartment Jensen. It’s the twenty-first century. And we’re redefining all of it, right? Why crowd ourselves. Works this way, right?”

Five minutes later Jensen is sitting on his sofa alone nursing a beer, feeling both restless and lethargic simultaneously. Tom is redefining marriage and Jensen wonders when it became about that. Because it isn’t about change to him, not that way. It’s about being allowed the same traditions everyone else has had all along. It’s about proving he’s just like everyone else. Not that he expects hearts and flowers. Tom’s not like that. Hell, Jensen’s not like that. And deep down he’s relieved to be able to keep his apartment. Retain his space. Yet …

Unbidden, Jared’s nonstop chatter comes back to him from their lunch. Jared’s chewing his plain burger messily. Mouth a little too open. He’s on a roll talking about the astronauts. Sharing his version of the right stuff.

John Glenn met his wife, Annie, when they were both practically babies. Their parents were friends and they shared a playpen. Glenn says he doesn’t remember saying ‘I love you’ for the first time because he always loved her. They’ve been married for sixty-seven years.

Jared’s eyes had unexpectedly met Jensen’s when he shared this. They sparkled like the inside of a polished seashell. It wasn’t the first time Jensen’d noticed Jared’s eyes. But it was the first time he’d felt how beautiful they were.

Annie had a speech disability. It was hard for her to deal with the attention, the press. That’s when Jared had looked down again. Playing with his French fries, stacking them into in a neat pile on the side of his plate, like he was building a little fort with them. So really she was as brave as her husband. They’re a team. I don’t think that they could have accomplished what they did without each other.

Jensen wants to think of himself and Tom as a team. Most people would call them that. They worked together toward a common goal. And they’d won.

He takes a slow look around his empty apartment before succumbing to lethargy and flicking on the television.



Pushing his mail cart one last time before his temporary reassignment, Jared minutely moves back an envelope that jiggled too far to the right when the elevator stopped. Starting tomorrow Jared will report to Sandy as her assistant. Really he’ll be helping to plan Jensen’s wedding. It still hurts. He wonders if maybe Sandy doesn’t truly get that part. He’s told her because it’s the only way he knows how to communicate how he feels. He knows that NTs usually think that if he’s not looking all sad or whatever then he’s not feeling anything. He can still hear the mumbled words at his poppa’s funeral. He’s a cold one, that one. Not a tear.

He’s in front of Jensen’s office before he realizes it. Sandy isn’t there. Dammit. He could just drop all the mail on her desk for her to sort through later. But he’s already segregated Jensen’s. He always separates the managers’ mail out and all the assistants seem to appreciate it. They smile when he hands both stacks over and he knows that a smile is almost always a good thing. Sometimes it’s not. Like the teachers that would smile before sending him to the principal’s office for whatever he did or said that wasn’t right. Later when a diagnosis had finally come down and everything he is comes down to a funny name that enables even more teasing, he’s taught to try to identify differences in smiles. Tightness around the lips, the jaw. He wished then that someone could invent glasses he could put on that would lift the fog and just let him see.

Today he’s not so sure he’d take those glasses even if offered. Not if it meant losing other things. Like the ability to focus and see the beautiful symmetry the world can fall into. The patterns and the notes and sense of order he detects where others see chaos.

Taking a deep breath he enters Jensen’s office. He’s behind his desk but smiles when he hears Jared step inside. There are dark circles under Jensen’s eyes and his normally faint freckles are standing out a little harsher in the window’s bright glare. Jared’s momma would get dark marks beneath her eyes when she didn’t sleep enough. Jared gets them, too. But he knows things like that can mean other things. It can mean something bad. He doesn’t like seeing this on Jensen.

“You look terrible.”

Jensen stares and then chuckles. “Hi to you, too.”

“Did you get enough sleep?”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t.” Jensen swipes the back of his head with his hand. “Can’t deal with free time, I guess. Not used to it.”

“But now you get to spend time with Tom. When I have nothing to do I like to be with Sandy. She’s my best friend.” Jared feels proud announcing this. It’s special to have a best friend.

“Sandy’s a great girl. A good friend.”

“Tom’s your best friend, right? I mean … I think people should marry their best friends. Not that I want to marry Sandy because she’s a girl and I … prefer men, you know. But your husband should be your best friend.”

Jensen doesn’t answer and fumbles through the papers in front of him. Jared guesses it must be a new manuscript. He must have interrupted. He should shut up and let Jensen do his important work. He holds out Jensen’s mail and packages.

Jensen’s eyes move to Jared’s as he takes the proffered mail. Once more their deep green surprises Jared because he almost never notices or remembers anyone’s eye color.

“Jared?” Jared nods, indicating he’s listening. People like responses like that. It’s become almost automatic now for Jared although at first it was always a conscious effort. “I want to thank you for agreeing to help Sandy plan my wedding. Clearly this is above and beyond all your responsibilities and, well, I really appreciate it.”

Jared bites his bottom lip hard to keep from blurting out how he really doesn’t want to do it. Lying, even by omission comes very hard to him. It’s foreign and tastes bad and he knows everyone does it all the time. But he just isn’t wired like that, even after years of passing for NT. “You’re welcome,” he forces out after a pause that he knows went too long.

Jensen is standing now. Jared’s too flustered to even attempt to ‘read’ him. He turns, giving his back to Jensen. “I have to finish my deliveries.”

He’s stopped by a hand on his arm. Before Jared can stop himself he’s shrugging the touch away. Jensen jumps back. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t. I just don’t like to be touched. Especially if I don’t know it’s coming.”

“Is that? You’re … you fall on the Autism Spectrum somewhere, don’t you?”

“I have Asperger's Syndrome.” He’s not ashamed of saying it. At one point he was but that was a long time ago. His momma and poppa told him that being different was nothing to ever be ashamed of. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from getting down on himself. Especially when it comes to someone as obviously out of his league as Jensen.

“I only noticed because we’ve been spending more time together.”

Jensen’s voice is tight. Jared makes himself look. It’s a little easier to read Jensen because his face is so beautiful to look at that he doesn’t mind it like he does others. If Jared has to guess he’d say Jensen is uncomfortable, although why is a mystery to Jared. “I pass for NT most times.” At Jensen’s over-the-top questioning eyebrows he tacks on, “Neurotypical.” He points. “Like you.”

It’s silent a few more moments and then Jared says quietly, “I let my Aspie out when I feel comfortable around someone.”

That draws a smile from Jensen. “What’s that mean, letting your Aspie out?”

“Well. People with Asperger's are on a spectrum. Different symptoms, degrees, like that. I have some atypical symptoms. Like I’m not as bad at reading nonverbal cues as some. But it’s still hard sometimes. Like trying to read a book in which the words have no definition. So when I relax I don’t try as much. I just say what I mean and hope who I’m with will do the same.”

“People don’t always say what they mean, do they?”

Jared lets out a little laugh that comes out more bitter than he intends. “Most of the time they don’t say anything at all. Expect you to be a mind reader. One of my most difficult struggles in life is knowing that people are reacting to me but not understanding what the reaction is. It was worse when I was younger. It’s easier now.”

“What else is atypical about you?” Jensen asks.

“Well. Eye contact. I don’t love it but I can handle it so that most folks don’t realize anything most times. Touching. If I’m not surprised, I’m fine with it. Lots of Aspies give off a flat impression, like they aren’t engaged. It’s not true, you know. They are. I am. Even if I don’t always show it. But mostly, I’m able to express myself, I guess. Well enough to pass for NT.”

Jensen is studying him and Jared squirms a little. “Remember at lunch we spoke about the movie Apollo 13?” The sudden subject change surprises Jared.

“Did you get to see it? It’s my favorite movie. Tom Hanks is an Apollo-buff as well-“

Jensen interrupts before Jared can get too far along. “I bought it. Haven’t seen it yet. I thought, maybe … if you were free. I thought it would be fun to see it with you?”

Dimples erupt. “Yeah? Really? I’d like that. Really like that. I promise not to talk all through it. Sandy says she can’t watch some things with me because I chatter too much. But I promise I won’t. Later, though, I mean … I know some stuff from when they filmed it. From interviews and such. I did some research.”

“After work tonight, if you’re free. I’ll order us some pizza.”

Jared knows he’s bouncing slightly on his heels. He adds quickly, “Plain. I don’t like toppings.”

Jensen laughs and Jared doesn’t get it but it doesn’t seem like Jensen is laughing at him. At least Jared hopes that’s the case. Truth is, he’s never completely sure.

“Plain is my favorite, too.”

That makes Jared happy. He doesn’t want to think that Jensen has to compromise on his pizza. He just doesn’t get the need to combine too many foods. He’s still standing by the door. Jensen said he’d swing by and get him at five. His hands clutch the handle of the cart and on a deep breath he turns back around to face Jensen who is now sitting behind his desk again.

“Why are you doing this?”

There’s a delay before Jensen says anything. “Inviting you to pizza and a movie?”

Jared nods. It really is on autopilot at this point.

“Because I want to be your friend. Is that okay?”

The happiness spurt is sharp and buoyant and Jared feels like he’s gonna float through the rest of his delivery. “Yeah. That’s super okay.”



They made it through their pizza well before Houston was ever apprised of a problem. Jensen steals a glance at Jared, riveted to the screen, softly repeating dialogue as it happens. The movie is good. He was a teenager when it came out. But he forces those thoughts away. Now is not the time. Of course, since then there are many fine films he’s missed over the years. School, his career, gay rights causes took up all of his time. Tom, of course, has been a constant for the last eleven years.

Jared has combed his hair back. Jensen admires the high cheekbones and sharp angles of his exceptionally handsome face. It is okay to look. It’s not like he’s a monk. With an inner sigh he forces his attention back to the screen.

“Oh … this is such a good part!” Jared announces. “I tried this. I researched and got all those same parts and tried to put them together myself.”

A group of engineers are being told they have to fit a square peg in a round hole using what looked like packing tape, string, some thick paper and a spare sock. It really was a flipping miracle those men made it back alive. “Yeah? Did you manage it?”

Jared is facing him now, which surprises Jensen because he didn’t think anything would get Jared’s eyes off the screen. “I did.” His smile is soft.

Jensen looks back where a dozen men are frantically rigging an extra air filter to save the astronauts' lives. “Could have used you there.”

“Nah. I mean, it’s not like mine worked or anything. I just got it to fit. Like a puzzle. I’m good with those.”

“And you also draw?”

Jared looks down. “My comic. Yeah.”

“What’s your character’s name? The boy from the other planet?”

“Jay.”

Jensen gets it and says nothing as Jared quickly becomes absorbed again in the film.

The three men reach the moon and Jared is sitting forward on the sofa. “So close,” he says wistfully.

The astronauts in the film are waxing poetic about that same thing. Jensen’s surprised when Jared speaks again, saying the same words coming out of Astronaut Lovell’s mouth, “Gentlemen, what are your intentions?” After a pause he adds. “I’d like to go home.”

It’s not that the film isn’t interesting. It’s clearly exceptional. But Jensen can’t keep his eyes off Jared. Those brown-blue eyes are shining, graceful throat swallowing as the drama unfolds. What’s odd is that Jensen has always considered himself and those he’s surrounded himself with as committed individuals. Yet Jared’s all-consuming involvement in what he cares about seems to put all of that to shame. And it doesn’t matter suddenly how long ago this happened. Because for Jared, it’s right now.

Is this the Asperger's? The ability to be so in the now?

As if sensing that he is being stared at, Jared turns to look at him. “You should watch,” he admonishes gently.

Jensen smiles and returns his attention to the film and bites back the urge to let Jared know just how much he’d rather look at him.

They shift closer as the movie continues and Jared’s thigh ends up touching Jensen’s on a few occasions. Jensen ignores it. Doesn’t think of the warmth emanating from the man next to him. Doesn’t even allow the notion of how stupidly hot Jared is to enter his mind.

Abruptly he hits pause, apologizes, and offers Jared a beer or soft drink or something. Cold.

It seemed like a good idea until he catches himself watching Jared pull the long neck to his lips and take a deep swallow. Jensen jumps up again and opens the window some more.

Jared is studying him. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine. Sorry I interrupted the film. It’s really good.”

“I may not read people well, but you seem … fidgety. If you don’t like it, we can stop. I’ve seen it dozens of times-“

“No. I don’t want to stop. I like the movie. Really. A lot.”

“Maybe we should have waited for Tom.”

“What? Why?”

“Well … I assume you normally watch movies with him and that’s why-“

“No. Jared, really he and I don’t … we’re both really busy. We don’t see each other all that much. It’s complicated, I guess. We go to some local premiers.” As long as the press is there. Jensen scoots closer to Jared and tells himself to stop acting like a thirteen-year-old on his first date. Because this isn’t a date. And the damn word shouldn’t even be in his vocabulary. Not anymore. “Let’s watch the end. Wanna make sure they get home.”

“Failure is not an option,” Jared quotes from the film again.

Jensen takes another draught of his beer, leans back, scoots closer until their thighs touch again and lets the power of a happy ending unfold before him.

* * *
“This isn’t a guest list … it’s a press list. Jensen, you can’t be serious.”

Jensen has gotten used to Jared’s bluntness by now. But that doesn’t mean he necessarily likes the constant honesty. Never before has he appreciated the power of a white lie. “I know how it looks. But it’s important that these people … “

Jared’s eyes grow huge. “The venue is limited. If you insist on these people we’ll have to cut some of the family invitations.”

Tom had provided an expanded list to Jensen yesterday. Now the ramifications of Tom’s request are being felt. Jensen isn’t looking forward to dealing with his mother’s disappointment at hearing who will not get an invite. The fact that she’d given him a decent list of people she wanted to come had been a bright moment in the whole affair.

“What about your father?”

Jensen is still on the last topic and Jared’s switch has him suck in air. “Wh-at about him?”

“He’s alive, right?”

“Yes. But we don’t … he won’t be an issue.”

“He’s not on the guest list. I don’t understand.”

Of course Jared doesn’t. And these days when he doesn’t he just tells Jensen that. He looks around for Sandy. Wonders where she disappeared to. He asks about that to deflect Jared’s tenacity.

“She’s negotiating with the florist.”

That makes Jensen chuckle. “I didn’t realize buying flowers required a negotiation.”

“Tom had specific requests. I am uncertain what they are but Sandy said her charm would be necessary. I suppose I don’t possess sufficient charm.”

It’s not a self-deprecating joke. It’s stated as a fact. Jensen can’t help but disagree. Jared charms the hell out of him. He chooses to say nothing.

Sighing, he rises. “Let’s get out of here.” Jared looks at him puzzled. “Outside. Can’t talk about it here.”

He’s followed out silently. He knows Jared is clueless about why Jensen wants to leave suddenly. They hit the summer air and Jensen absorbs a moment of sun before facing the man beside him. “We can walk to the plaza.”

“Is this part of the wedding planning? Do you want photos taken there?”

What to say? How to answer? The last thing he wants to do is plan one more thing related to this blasted wedding. He says nothing and walks, certain Jared will simply come along.

The plaza is crowded now that the weather is nice. They take a shady bench that gives the illusion of privacy within its shadows. Pigeons swirl overhead and children are squealing around the fountain. Children. Another fun conversation he and Tom had two nights ago.

I guess you’re right. We’ll have to go for it. Adoption would be more impactful, get them to fight us more.

I didn’t mean it like … I mean, Jesus, Tom. Not everything is about the cause.

Jensen, don’t get naïve on me, bud. Not now. Come too far to play coy. We’re a same-sex couple. Everything we do is under scrutiny from church groups and right-wing bigots. Just gotta plan it right. See where the fight will be the biggest.

It’s starting to feel a little like quicksand. After Tom left, Jensen had picked up his phone to call someone. To talk about this. But who could he call? Who’d want to hear it anyway?

“What’s wrong?”

He’s surprised and not at the same time. Jared says he can’t read people. But this isn’t the first time that Jared has picked up on things people who’ve known Jensen longer have missed.

“My dad and I don’t talk,” he says, picking up on the thread from before. If Jared thinks the time between question and answer is odd he doesn’t say.

“How come?”

“Because I’m gay.”

Jensen was fifteen years old before he let himself think the word gay in relation to himself. Of course, that’s not the word he actually thought. He thought the word faggot and he was so scared he dropped nearly ten pounds because he could hardly swallow his food. His mother feared he had some sort of virus and wanted him to visit the doctor. She said maybe he had mono. Jensen nodded along but never went to the doctor and eventually he started eating enough to get her off his back.

His father chastised her for sissying the boy and wrote it off as teenage metabolism and it got dropped.

He tried dating girls. Willed his body to respond to them. Came home early from his dates and jerked off in the shower and the traitorous images in his mind never had any curves.

Jensen blinks to push the memories back as hazel eyes lock with his. Jensen always notices when Jared looks at him. It always feels like … more. “That’s a really stupid reason not to talk to your own son.”

“Yeah. When I … when it came out, it split up my family. My dad … he left us.”

“No,” Jared disagrees. “If your father chose to leave, that’s not your fault. That was his choice.”

Intellectually, of course, Jensen knows Jared is right. He’s said the same thing to countless teenage boys over the years. It’s not you. It’s them. They can’t handle it. Not your fault.

Maybe this wedding business is turning him into a hormonally challenged teen, because dammit his intellect just isn’t in charge right now.

“Your parents are fine with you being gay?”

Jared looks down. “My parents are dead.”

Jensen didn’t know that. Jared’s expression is bland but Jensen has learned to see deeper. “I’m sorry. Have they been gone long?”

“My mother died when I was eighteen. Poppa died … “ Jared stops to calculate. “… ten days ago.”

Jensen’s heart squeezes. “Jesus. You’ve hardly had any time … I don’t remember you even being off of work.”

He’s graced with eye contact again. “I didn’t take off from work. There was no purpose to taking time off. I wouldn’t miss my poppa any less at home.”

“I didn’t mean … “

“It’s okay. They thought it was wrong that I didn’t cry or yell or whatever it was they thought I was supposed to do. But he knew. And that’s all that mattered to me.”

“Everyone expresses grief differently. I didn’t cry when my dad left.” Jensen stops because Jared’s father is dead and he doesn’t want to diminish that. “It’s not the same. I get that … never mind.”

“If he is not a part of your life any more then it is the same. My parents didn’t care that I preferred men. After Momma passed, Poppa told me to find and marry my best friend. I asked him how I’d know who the right person was. It’s hard for me. Well, harder.” Jared looks at him now, eyes as expressive as Jensen has ever seen them. They are this side of mesmerizing. “He said, I’d be able to see him. But I don’t know what he meant.”

A child laughs loudly nearby and Jensen automatically turns to look. When he shifts his gaze back Jared’s eyes find his again. “I tried to believe him for a very long time.” Jared’s gaze drifts up toward the cotton-ball-filled sky. “But Poppa was a romantic. My ability to see people, to read them … it’s about as good as it’s ever gonna get. Love doesn’t change that. I loved my parents very much. And I could read their body language better than others. But there were still times that unless they told me I had no idea what they were feeling.”

“You knew something was upsetting me before.”

“Your face is easier to look at.”

Jared looks away, stares at the pigeons crowding around bread crumbs someone has thrown. When he speaks again he’s jumped topics. “You know there are those on the internet who think that John Young is an Aspie.” Jensen nods his head in a negative fashion to indicate he doesn’t know who that is. Jared rolls his eyes. “Apollo 16.”

Jensen waits for more but Jared is uncharacteristically silent.

“Is he?”

“No. I don’t think so. They wouldn’t have let him fly if he … of course, they wouldn’t have had that diagnosis then. But still. Seems impossible.”

“Why do they think that about him?”

“He has this flat way of speaking in interviews. Very focused. But that just makes him an amazing astronaut is all. He went to the moon twice, first time was Apollo 10 where he orbited the moon. He also commanded the first space shuttle. He retired not that long ago in 2004.”

Jensen smiles. “The right stuff, eh?”

“They all had it.”

“You do, too.”

Jared’s head turns away from the feeding birds. The laugh that leaks out holds no mirth. “I work in a mailroom, Jensen.”

“You’re writing a book.”

“It’s a comic.”

“A graphic novel.” Jensen stops any further dissention. “And it’s going to be important.” He knows Jared enough by now to know that word holds impact.

Jared is openly staring at him now. He looks like he’s going to speak but then bites his bottom lip. Jensen fights the absurd craving to lick where Jared has placed his teeth.

“Especially since your father isn’t going to be there you should have as much family as possible. Tell Tom that.”

The wedding. The reason Jared is with him at all. It would be easier to get Tom in a wedding dress than to cut one press member off the guest list. Jensen, unlike Jared, can lie though. “Sure. I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry about it.”

To Chapter 3

To Master Post