One Small Step, Ch. 4/6, [R], RPS, AU, Jensen/Jared

[sandymg]

“All night? Really?” Sandy’s voice does that sing-song rise at the end that Jared has come to interpret as ‘no freakin’ way.’

He smiles because it was a great weekend. “Yep. I made us brunch. Well, just eggs really. And some of that pre-cooked bacon. And he didn’t say anything when I gave us each two plates, because, you know. He just took ‘em both and he didn’t automatically bring his bacon over to his egg plate. He asked if it would bother me. And I said, it would, sort of. And then he smiled and kept it all separate. I worried a second that he was laughing at me even though he wasn’t really laughing. But smiling, you don’t always know. But I think … I think it was really okay.”

Sandy smiles now. Jared always trusts her smiles. “Jare. He spent the night?” Her voice is very gentle making Jared think there’s more to the question than it seems, but he doesn’t know what she wants him to say.

“Yep. We watched till we couldn’t keep our eyes open any more. I dozed off first. And then he … well, I woke up.” Jared knows he’s blushing slightly. Can feel the warmth blossom on his cheeks. That night with Jensen he’d been awakened by the softest brush of fingers through his hair. For a split second he thought he was dreaming of his momma. But then the touch got a little deeper and his scalp felt tingly and his whole body got this charge. He’d snapped up and then quickly apologized for practically knocking Jensen over.

Jensen had apologized back for crowding Jared. But that wasn’t it. Not at all. Because Jared had gotten aroused and that wasn’t right. Not with Jensen. Not when Jensen was in love with someone else. Was going to marry someone else.

Jared had disappeared into the bathroom and splashed himself with cold water to calm down. Nothing happened after all and hopefully Jensen didn’t realize. It’s not like his eyes were looking at Jared’s crotch. Sighing he talked to himself softly in the mirror. You can’t have Jensen. Even if there was no Tom it’s not like a man like Jensen would ever want you. So keep a grip and be a friend. It’s more than you had before. It’s good.

“Then what happened?” Sandy prods.

“I brought out a pillow and blanket and he slept on the couch.”

Sandy brings her Starbucks cup to her mouth. Jared gets her coffee every morning on his way in. It’s what they do. She’s twirling her hair and Jared wonders again what’s up. Her voice is normal, though, when she asks, “Did he talk much about Tom?”

Jared’s brows furrow. “No. He never does, though. I guess, you know, that’s personal.”

Her lips twist unpleasantly. “Still can’t get Tom to meet with us. Always too busy. But if Jensen makes a decision by himself he gets grief later from Tom. I can’t imagine how Jensen puts up with it.”

It’s hard for Jared to process that. He imagines planning one’s wedding would be the most wonderful thing in the world. He’s actually having trouble understanding any time Tom spends away from Jensen. Because nothing is better than being with Jensen.

“Oh, Jared. I know, hon. And Jensen loves being with you, too.” She sighs loudly. Jared thinks he shouldn’t have said that last part aloud. He sometimes gets lost in his head and blurts things without realizing. Now he’s afraid he’ll do that with Jensen one day and make Jensen mad. It’s the worst thought in the world.

Jensen rounds the corner just then, eyes widening when he sees Jared and Sandy standing before his office. Jared tries not to stare but it’s hard. Jensen is dressed as usual, suit with no tie, fitting gorgeously on his muscular frame. He’s not as buff as Jared. But Jared can remember the feel of his muscles as they sat close on his sofa. He still doesn’t understand how all that cuddling didn’t drive him nuts. But Jensen seemed to instinctively know when to pull back and when to come closer.

“Good. You’re both here,” Jensen says but his eyes are on Jared. He looks rested and Jared is happy about that.

“You look good.”

Jensen smiles. “A pleasant surprise, eh?”

Jared blushes. “I didn’t mean … you always look good. Just that you don’t look as tired as last week.”

“I had a great weekend. Spent it with my best friend.”

Sandy’s smile is hitting nuclear levels and Jared isn’t sure why his other best friend is practically radiating happiness. Maybe she had a great weekend, too? He didn’t really get to ask her. “Jared said you and he spent some time at his place,” she says to Jensen.

“Yeah. Watched that Tom Hanks-produced moon miniseries on Saturday. Pretty much all day.” Jensen chuckles. “Can’t remember the last time I marathoned like that.”

“I’ve seen it. It’s good. What did you guys do yesterday?”

Jared is about to answer but Jensen speaks up first. “Jared made me brunch. And then he showed me around his apartment some. Didn’t get a chance Saturday as we got caught up with the show. Lots of history in that old place.”

“Jared’s parents inherited the apartment from his grandparents. It’s neat, right? Those pre-war buildings are always amazing.”

Jared never thinks of his place as special. It’s always been just home. Now it’s just safe. A little lonely. But not that weekend. Jensen didn’t rush off Sunday morning like Jared assumed he would. That’s when Jared offered the brunch. That led to the tour and somehow they ended up looking at old family photographs. Jared hadn’t pulled them out since well before Poppa died. His momma had dozens of albums and scrapbooks. Jared couldn’t believe Jensen could really be interested in all that. But his attention never wavered as he sat next to him on the table asking question after question.

“We spent a long time looking through my momma’s old photo albums.”

Sandy looks up at that, eyeing Jensen carefully. Jared tries to read her but he can’t. Jensen runs his hand over the back of his head. “Yeah. It’s great how many photos he has, going back decades. I don’t … well, after my dad left my mom destroyed a bunch of photos. Made her sad, I guess. There’s not a lot of family pictures.”

Jared’s heart squeezes and he’s touching Jensen’s arm before he realizes it. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. But … what about Tom? You’re gaining a new family with him, right?”

“Tom’s family never came around, Jared. Well … they tried once Tom became successful but he never let them back in.”

“I didn’t mean-I meant Tom, himself. He’ll be your family.”

Jensen doesn’t answer. He pulls back away from Jared and enters his office silently. Jared looks at Sandy.

“What did I do?” Clearly he said something stupid. Something he shouldn’t. Part of him wants to follow Jensen into his office and make him tell him what’s wrong. Why he turned away? But Jensen has shut his door.

A small hand rests on his arm. “You didn’t do anything, Jare.”

“But … why did he-?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you-“

“No. It can’t be. Jensen wouldn’t marry Tom if he didn’t love him. Nobody would do that. It doesn’t work that way. You marry your best friend, your lover. The person who makes you smile inside all the time.”

Sandy reaches up and strokes Jared’s face. Her eyes are wide and glossy and Jared suddenly is getting more than he wishes. Sometimes it’s better not to read people. “I don’t think it’s one-sided. He cares for you.”

“Sandy. Stop. He feels friendship. And that’s enough. It’s a lot. And it’s all I’m ever going to get. In fourteen days he’s marrying Tom Welling.”

Jared steps away from her. He has work to get to. Behind him he hears Sandy ask, “Even if he shouldn’t?”



There’s a quick knock and then Sandy enters. Jensen looks up from the contract he’s been reviewing. Truthfully the words aren’t registering. He’s back in Jared’s apartment in his mind. Casual touches and easy affection that surprise him mostly in how not surprising it felt. Jared says he doesn’t like touching. But he didn’t protest much. Not that Jensen would ever consider himself touchy-feely. But there’s something about Jared that brings out the tactile in Jensen.

Saturday was spent mostly on the sofa, pressed close. The miniseries episodes drifted one into the other. They broke for lunch around one. Didn’t go out, ordered Chinese food. Jensen didn’t say anything as Jared ordered each dish separately, giving special directions to not mix the chicken and the beef and the vegetables. It arrived in dozens of small containers. Jared disappeared in his kitchen and returned with paper plates that were cut out with little wells to separate food - like old-fashioned school cafeteria trays. Jared was beaming.

“Aren’t these great? Dixie makes ‘em.”

Jensen nodded in amused agreement and watched quietly as Jared carefully placed a couple spoonful of rice in one of the slots, vegetables in the other and some strips of white chicken breast in the third. Nothing touched. To be polite Jensen tried to do the same thing. He supposed it all got mixed up in his stomach anyway and didn’t make that much difference how it went in.

“You can taste each flavor this way,” he told Jared.

“Yes! That’s what I think.” Jared is looking at him oddly, face tilted adorably.

“What?” Jensen asked.

“It’s just that nobody bothered ever finding anything positive to my … way of eating … everyone thinks it’s weird. Even my parents teased me about it.”

Jensen looked around at the aging dining space, dark wood table speckled with nicks and scrapes. It was good. It was well used. “You’ve lived here all your life?”

“Um-hmm,” Jared said between mouthfuls of food. “I think my parents wanted me to move out after high school. I got into some out-of-state schools and they were encouraging me to maybe go out on my own. But. I dunno. I was scared. Didn’t want to.”

Sandy’s chuckle breaks through Jensen’s fog. “Boy, that must be one boring document. You seem a million miles away.” She eyes him with a smile. He swears it’s like she can see right through him.

“Why didn’t you tell me Jared graduated from Hunter College?”

“I didn’t keep it from you. You never asked.”

“Did you know he was accepted at UPenn? Among others.”

“He’s smart. But you know that.”

Jensen nods. “His book. It’s really good.”

Sandy’s brows shoot up. “Book?”

“The comic. ‘S good.”

Huge brown eyes gape at him. “You read it?”

“A little bit. He showed me a page or two.”

She shakes her head. “He never let me see it. Only his father has ever been allowed to read any of it.” Sandy’s voice deepens slightly and her look is mother-protector ferocious. “I’m going to say this once. Don’t screw with him.”

Jensen looks down. Can’t hide the immediate slight flush and curses his fair complexion. It’s no use pretending he doesn’t know what she means. Before she can say anything further she’s touching his sleeve and her gaze is soft again. “Jensen … “

“Sandy. Don’t. I’m … I wouldn’t … won’t. And even if … it’s too late. Things are set. An’ no matter what Tom thinks once we’re married I couldn’t … Well, never with someone like-“ He cuts himself off because he’s already said way too much.

“It doesn’t have to be too late-Jensen, just … think about what you fought for and do right by it.”

“I’m trying to do right by it!” The exasperation leaks out.

She shakes her head slightly and looks down at the calendar in her hand letting out a slight sigh. “Tom really will be by at noon, right?”

“Yeah. He swore he wouldn’t miss our appointment this time.” Jensen hates the defensiveness in his voice.

“Okay. Jared and I will meet you in the conference room. I’ll order lunch.”

“Jared will be there?”

“He’s my assistant on this. I need him.” She meets his eyes determinedly. “Will it be a problem?”

“No.” Jensen fights his inner anxiety. “Not a problem.”



Look them in the eye. Shake firmly. Nod after every pertinent comment. Watch for pauses that last too long. Arms crossed mean closed off, back off. Eyebrows up is questioning, perhaps doubting. Squinting is confusion. Eye rubbing is boredom.

The mantra runs through Jared’s mind like it does with all new, important meetings. So many ticks and clicks to remember. Why can’t people just say what they mean?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Welling.”

Tom grips his hand and shakes firmly, holding on longer than Jared is comfortable with. He fights the squirm and is relieved to feel Jensen taking hold of his arm and pulling Jared away gently. Why Jensen’s touch is actually a comfort is beyond Jared. He smiles at him to show that it helps.

“Call me Tom, please.”

Tom locks eyes with Jared and that squirmy, slightly queasy feeling comes back. Jared drifts his eyes to Tom’s forehead and hopes it’s not noticed. “You’re the reason I’m gay.”

The quiet in the room lets Jared know he just blurted something he shouldn’t have. So, of course, he immediately starts adding to it. “I … I mean … your book. I was wondering why I kept getting erections when thinking about men and I passed this bookstore and the photo on the cover of your book - with those two men -- got me aroused, so I bought it. And then … well. Your story … not that anything like that happened to me because my parents they took the book and also read it. Then they asked if I thought I was homosexual and I said I thought so. Not that I ever … I mean with a boy … well, with anyone really … “

“Jared.” Sandy’s voice breaks his ramble. “It’s okay. Tom’s book was the turning point for many young men.” She turns to Tom, charming smile in place. “Bet you get that a lot, huh?”

“Don’t flatter him anymore. Head’s too big as it is.” Jensen laughs and Jared figures maybe this is funny, except Sandy has that slightly off smile. The one he’s learned means way too many things for Jared to attempt to suss out. He looks toward Tom as both Jensen and Sandy are also peering that way. But he doesn’t know Tom and can’t figure out anything and thinks maybe he’s missed something. His heart starts pounding.

“We could never have been Apollo astronauts. None of us. You are just about my height. Jensen is over six feet. That was the maximum cut off. Used to be five-eleven but then in 1962 they increased it to up to six feet.”

“Twelve men walked on the moon,” Sandy says softly grinning at him.

“How incredible is that?” he replies automatically. He sees Jensen throw a soft sort of look at Sandy. Jared thinks he sees gratitude and marvels once more how Jensen speaks to him in ways no one else does.

“Okay. Jensen, I barely had time for this as is. What the-?”

“Tom,” Jensen interrupts quickly. “Let’s just sit down and finish making some decisions.”

Tom mumbles something like excuse us and pulls Jensen to the window leaning in close to him. Jared takes a seat near Sandy on the other end of the long conference room table and tries not listen but the men’s loud whispers are inescapable.

“Why the hell is the mailroom clerk in on my wedding planning?”

“Tom. Shush. He’s helping Sandy.”

“Do what? The invitations went out last week.”

“He’s doing a lot more than mailing things out. He planned the hotel arrangements and is dealing with the seating shenanigans and most importantly, he’s a good friend … so stop being an ass right now.”

Tom lowers his voice and Jared hears only bits now. “Since … friends … weird … “

“Since the amount of time you have for me can fit on the back of a matchbook!” Jensen’s loud whisper is harsh in the enclosed space.

“What is with the nagging boyfriend act? What the fuck is wrong with you lately?"

Tom and Jensen are standing practically on top of each other now and Jared’s chest feels like it’s caught in a vise. Sandy stands up abruptly and pulls Jared’s arm. “C’mon … we should wait outside.“

He follows her, reeling from the tension running through his body at what he witnessed. They are outside the conference room door for several minutes while Jared tries to steady his nerves with his breathing exercises. He feels Sandy’s eyes on him. “I’ve never. I mean, sure, people fight. I’m not stupid. But Sandy … that’s not … what did he mean ‘boyfriend act’?”

Sandy’s been saying from the start that Jensen and Tom weren’t real. But he couldn’t let himself believe it. Yet if it’s true … how can Jensen do this? It’s wronger than just about anything Jared can imagine.

Tom emerges and Jared figures if he could read his face he’d know things. But he can’t. Tom stops in front of Sandy and ignores Jared. “E-mail me the seating chart and I’ll sign off on it. The hotel you found is fine. I’m still working on getting the mayor to officiate - I’ll let you know.” He takes a step back. “Oh and book us two weeks somewhere with a beach. He just needs to get away or something. He’ll be okay. This is stressful and he never could handle the publicity all that well. Couple of weeks and it’ll all be behind us and we can get back to normal.”

Sandy looks around Tom and Jared sees Jensen standing in the doorway to the conference room. His face is flushed and his shoulders are hunched and Jared has no idea what he’s looking at. Just knows it’s all wrong. Jensen takes an audible breath before blowing it out. “Sandy. Do what he says, please.”

“But it’s your honeymoon - don’t you want to-?”

“A beach. I don’t care where.”

Tom nods like he’s satisfied with this meeting. Like it’s not the equivalent of a wake. Jared should know. He just organized one recently. “Sandy,” Tom says by way of goodbye. He looks toward Jared and doesn’t say anything. Jared nods automatically thinking they probably had some sort of silent one-sided conversation that Jared just can’t be bothered to care about.

Jensen walks over slowly after Tom has left. Jared hasn’t moved a muscle. He feels like his legs are paralyzed in place. “I’m sorry,” Jensen begins slowly. “You two shouldn’t have gotten caught up in that.” He runs his hand over the back of his head and the familiar motion makes Jared swallow hard. Shining green eyes meet his and widen at what they see in Jared. “Jay, it’s okay. Really. It’s my shit to deal with. Don’t worry.”

Voices drift over from down the hall where folks are walking. It breaks through Jared’s lost spell. “Momma told me that planning her wedding was one of the most fun times of her life. She said she and Poppa had a hippie wedding, complete with bare feet and flowers in her hair. Said my grandparents thought they were deranged but since it barely cost anything they couldn’t complain.”

Jensen tries to interrupt but Jared speaks over him. “Poppa said that wedding planning was for girls and then Momma teased him that she’d take out the scrapbook and prove how into it he was and they chased each other around the house after that before falling together on the sofa laughing and I remember thinking how weird it was that they didn’t mind smothering each other like that because I hated being held down like that.”

“Jared … “ Jensen says gently. “Not everyone is like your parents.” They’ve drifted back into the conference room and Jared doesn’t even remember walking. The door is open but they have the illusion of privacy. He looks around and doesn’t see Sandy. It doesn’t matter. He has to get this out.

“The news was already talking about the Marriage Equality Act before Poppa died. He was happy about it. Said now I could have a family. I told him I already had one and he didn’t say anything more but I bet he said a whole bunch to me without talking but I was too stupid to see it. Bet he knew he wasn’t feeling well. Except he never told me.”

Jensen swipes at his eyes and Jared knows he’s supposed to feel sad that he’s made Jensen cry but something inside him is numb.

“Do you love him?” Jared asks finally. The silence is deafening and Jared feels like screaming. His voice is raising before he can help himself because he’s not his father and he doesn’t want to go through life not saying things. “Do you love him like I love you?”

Jared isn’t given a yes or a no. “I’m sorry,” Jensen utters before running out.

The window is cool beneath Jared’s fingertips, the city sprawling in an intricate maze as he rests his forehead on the unyielding glass. Sandy calls Jared’s name softly but Jared puts his hand out to indicate not now. His breath ghosts the glass and he pushes a line through it. He wants to go home. Except no one is there. And somehow just standing here staring at strangers far below is slightly less lonely.



It was more than half a lifetime ago that Jensen last heard the word ‘love’ directed at him from another boy.

Jensen was fifteen years old and living in Dallas with a secret too big to contemplate.

His older brother Josh was graduating high school that year. He’d been accepted to the University of Texas. Josh had a steady girlfriend. Jensen had seen them making out, licking into each other like they were the icing to every cake ever made. Every kiss Jensen ever had has left him bored at best and queasy at worst. He wanted to kiss a boy. He needed to just fucking know.

It seemed impossible. He could never approach any boy in school that way without expecting to be punched. In the end, another boy approached him. His name was Caleb and they’d been in some of the same classes since grade school. He was slight and shorter than Jensen by a couple of inches. Except Jensen remembered him from the locker room and knew that his lithe muscles were defined beneath the loose fitting clothes. Jensen’s face burned when he thought this and he couldn’t meet Caleb’s eyes as he spoke with him.

The boy asked tentatively for tutoring help in math. Told him the teacher recommended Jensen. It’s true that Mrs. O’Neil asked Jensen on Monday after class if he’d be willing to tutor some students having difficulty. He’d nodded without thinking about it and they agreed to meet up after school.

Two weeks later Jensen was in Cal’s room and they were sitting side by side on the bed. Caleb was doing better in math class and probably didn’t need tutoring any more. But he didn’t ask to stop and Jensen kept visiting him. There’d been one incident so far at home about that. Josh rolled his eyes during dinner one night and said, “You still teaching that fag? Jesus, he must be dumber than a post.”

Their father had chuckled and Jensen’s mother chirped in that it was nice that Jensen was helping out. Jensen fought to swallow what was already in his throat and swirled his fork through the rest of his meal without eating any more. After an appropriate time gap he asked to be excused.

Caleb touched his arm to get his attention as Jensen had drifted off. “You okay?”

The boy’s hand was warm where it pressed against Jensen’s bicep. Jensen shut his eyes a moment. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.”

He opened them again to find Caleb staring intently, not dropping his hand from Jensen’s skin. Caleb moved forward slightly and licked his lips. “Jensen … I … if I’m wrong, please don’t … don’t hit me, okay?”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed and he was about to ask what Caleb was talking about when he realized that Caleb was still moving closer, that his face was inches away. He shut his eyes and let it happen. Warm lips met his tentatively and then grew bold as Jensen shifted closer and inhaled and opened up slightly to deepen the kiss. It was so good he thought he must be dreaming. Jensen brought his arms around Cal and let his fingers run up and down firm, lean muscle. His tongue was tangling with another boy’s and his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest but that feeling of yes didn’t go away. Because this was right. And he knew then that it would be his life.

No matter how terrifying that thought was.

They got caught by Caleb’s mother within a week of their relationship turning romantic. She was fine with it. Caleb already told his parents he was gay. Caleb thought that Jensen would be happier if he just came clean. Jensen thought Caleb was insane.

“It’s not like your family’s all super religious or anything. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

“My dad … no, it’s not gonna be fine.” His father thought gays were disgusting. Said it all the time. If something went by on TV or whatever he got this twisted look. Dad and Josh made fun of fags for years. Jensen couldn’t even think about coming out. “Don’t you dare say anything!”

Caleb flinched and Jensen felt bad because he just scared him and that wasn’t his intention. But Cal was tougher than he looked. “There’s nothing wrong with it. With us.”

He looked at Caleb’s pleading eyes. He’d first noticed how pretty they were back in middle school. To placate he told Caleb that. “You’re one to talk, so freakin’ hot.”

Caleb’s chocolate brown eyes grew even softer as he murmured, “I don’t remember a time I wasn’t crushing on you.”

The words made Jensen’s heart thump in his chest. Jensen opened his arms and took Caleb in a tight hug. He kissed along his temple before working down toward his lips. They made out a long while until things escalated and Jensen experienced his first orgasm from another person.

Jensen was at war with himself. He wanted Cal. Wanted them to have everything all his other dating friends had. But the voice in his head that sounded like his dad and his brother was yelling, disgusting, shameful, unnatural.

Nonetheless, he lost his virginity just past his sixteenth birthday. He and Caleb took turns bottoming. At first it hurt more than anything he ever felt before and he thought maybe his father was right … that it wasn’t natural, that it was wrong. But Caleb started touching him slowly, fingers squeezing and pulling and the flames turned into a slow burn, turned to something indescribable. Pleasure was shooting through him with every strong thrust of the other boy’s hips, rising through him like a geyser. He came for what felt like forever sputtering Caleb’s name.

Later that same night he pushed into Caleb as careful as he could, remembering how much it hurt at first. Caleb breathed through it and then told Jensen to go ahead. As much as Jensen had eventually enjoyed being on the receiving end, this totally blew his mind. It was hotter, tighter and more spine tinglingly wonderful than anything Jensen had ever felt before. Caleb was squirming beneath him and if groans were any indication was slowly losing his mind.

When they both came down enough to get words out Caleb turned to him. “Okay. We can do that again. Like, a lot.”

Jensen laughed. “Which one?”

Caleb’s eyes blackened. “Inside me. Loved it.” Caleb stared at him a long time and then whispered, “Love you.” Jensen knew that Cal was waiting but it was too much. He stayed quiet.

It all blew up a week after that.

Jensen thinks now that he should maybe go track Jared down and tell him not to care about him. Loving Jensen never leads to anything good.

* * *
“We lost the mayor, dammit!”

Jensen is used to Tom’s barking on the phone. He doesn’t remember the last time Tom actually said hello. Goodbye though, that his fiancé has down. Jensen hasn’t spoken to Tom since earlier in the week and the disastrous visit to his office.

Well that isn’t strictly true. Earlier today they met so that Jensen could participate in a quick interview with the Village Voice. He answered the two questions directed at him with an actor’s smile glued on his face. Tom kept his hand loosely on his shoulder the entire time. The touch so light it might not have been there at all.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asks.

“Bloomberg is gonna marry those two gay staffers of his. But … I managed to get that judge from the second circuit instead.”

“That’s still good, isn’t it? Makes the judge’s opinions clear finally.”

Tom is quiet. “Yeah. I’m just being a bitch.”

Jensen laughs. “What else is new?”

“Screw you. Hey, Vanity Fair wants us.”

“Us or you?”

“Us. They are going to cover the wedding. Jensen, seriously, not like you weren’t a prissy bitch before but what the hell is going on with you lately?”

Jensen wants to hang up. Doesn’t want to argue anymore. “Nothing. It’s just … I’m coming to terms, I guess, to being married.”

“Jen … I keep telling you it won’t change anything. It’s not about us … it’s the greater point that matters. You know what your problem is … you never got the fact that people don’t matter as much as you think they do. What we’re doing isn’t for any individual. It’s for the nation at large. It’s for fairness and equality. It’s about what’s right.”

“What’s right,” Jensen repeats.

“Yeah. I get that you’re nervous. I am, too. It’s a brave thing to pave the way.”

Jensen almost laughs. “You think I’m brave?”

“I think you’re gonna do what needs to be done. Because what else is gonna give all the bullshit we went through to get here meaning?” Jensen can hear someone talking to Tom in the background. His friend laughs loud and hearty. It takes a few minutes before his attention comes back to Jensen. “Gotta go. I won’t be around much the next few days. Crazy schedule. Bye Jen.”

Tom hangs up before Jensen can say another word. He listens to the quiet for a long time before disconnecting the call. Silence. Maybe it’s karma. Because that’s the last thing he ever gave the boy that first dared to love him.

A week after losing his virginity Jensen’s world fell to pieces.

Someone at school saw Jensen and Caleb kissing and the news spread like wildfire. Jensen was terrified. He blamed Caleb for initiating the intimacy. Jensen never let anything happen in school. But the locker rooms were empty and Caleb cornered him and for one careless moment Jensen just let himself be and fell into the kiss with a smile. Super jock, Timothy Bracken came in with his friends, Bob and Mike in tow. The three went, “Oh shit” at once and then broke into cackling.

Upon being discovered, Jensen pulled away frantically, practically knocking Caleb down. He yelled, “Get off me!” The stunned, devastated look on Caleb’s face felt like a punch but Jensen couldn’t help but lash out like a cornered animal.

“What the fag do, jump you?” Timothy asked Jensen pointedly.

Caleb stared at him, tears filling his huge eyes and Jensen felt the floor sinking beneath his feet. He didn’t say another word, just spun and ran out as laughter rang loud behind him.

Words followed him all day. Jensen walked home as if facing the guillotine.

Josh attacked as soon as he entered the house. Their mother stood stock still looking dismayed. Dad wasn’t home yet. “What the fuck, Jensen? You’re a homo now?”

“Josh. Stop. I’m sure there’s an explanation … Jensen … did that boy force you to do anything you didn’t-“

He wanted to say yes. It was on the tip of his tongue to blame Caleb. To say the boy shoved him up against the locker and kissed him unwanted. It was Cal’s fault anyway for kissing him in the open like that. In school. He knew the rules. Only in Caleb’s house. It wasn’t safe anywhere else. Because then …

Jensen looked up into the disgusted face of his brother and the frightened stare of his mother and went up to his room silently. The quiet was his confession. He sat in his room and waited for his sentencing.

There were murmurs downstairs at six-thirty. He heard his mother’s voice raise slightly saying to calm down. Jensen opened his door and walked to the top of the steps but didn’t come down.

“Calm down?! You’re telling me my son is a fucking faggot and you want me to calm down?”

“Stop. That language it’s not - he’s gay, Alan.”

“I can’t … I’m not … How can I even look at him? He’s been with that boy for months. Holed up in his bedroom. Do you realize-“

“We don’t know-“

“Right. They were kissing in the boys’ locker room.” His father coughed and it sounded like he was gagging. “It’s sick. Disgusting. I can’t-“

The conversation continued for some time. His mother tried to calm Alan down, while Alan ranted and raved.

Jensen stopped listening around the time his father disagreed with his mother when she said, “He’s still our son.”

Josh knocked once before entering. It was nearly midnight. Jensen had done nothing but stare at the ceiling and his eyes were burning and dry. “You let him fuck you up the ass?” his brother asked.

Jensen didn’t reply. Didn’t turn his head.

“Ugh. That’s just sick, dude. I can’t believe we’re related. Thank god I got college coming up.”

Josh left.

In the past week he and Cal had sex. A lot. Wrapped up in each other on Caleb’s too-small bed. Sinking into the smaller boy’s body until he thought he’d die from pleasure. Laying there afterward in the chill of sweat-soaked skin touching cooler air with Caleb mouthing, “I love you,” directly into Jensen’s ear.

Jensen stumbled through school the next day somehow. Caleb tried to talk to him but froze at Jensen’s silent wall. He knew he should talk to him. Knew he should be feeling something other than ice in his veins. Caleb gave him one last devastated stare. But the best Jensen could do was shake his head firmly before turning swiftly and walking away as fast as he could. He knew it was over in that instant.

He came home to find his mother crying. A moment later he spotted his father at the top of the stairs holding a suitcase. His heart sank.

Alan came down and stood before his mother. Jensen was ignored. “I’m sorry Donna. I just can’t.”

“Dad?” Jensen spoke for the first time.

“I can’t even look at him right now,” his father said, eyes only on his mother.

“Then go!” his mother yelled, veins popping near her throat.

Dad’s eyes were down to the carpet as he picked up his bag and headed out.

“Oh my god,” Jensen said falling into the sofa next to his mother. “He left … he left us because of … “

“It’s not your fault,” Mom said, but her eyes didn’t meet Jensen’s.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

Watery blue eyes met his. “Jensen. You’ll never get married. Have a family. You’ll never have a life. People will--Why … why do you want this? Can’t you fight it … try to be with a girl?”

He wanted to tell his mother he’d try. That he’d change. That he’d be what they all wanted. Only it didn’t work that way and he didn’t know how to change that. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. So little. Worthless. He wondered if she was right. If he’d never have a life. A relationship.

His brother walked in then and stared hard at Jensen. “Way to go. You made Dad leave.”

“Josh, that’s not-“ his mother tried.

Jensen saw tears flow down his big brother’s cheeks. He didn’t remember the last time he saw that. His own eyes were dry and felt like they were filled with sand.

That September Josh went away to school with barely a goodbye. His father came by occasionally when Jensen wasn’t home. Jensen could tell by smelling his cologne lingering in the air and by his mother’s red-rimmed eyes.

Caleb stopped trying to speak to him and eventually hooked up with another boy. Jensen didn’t date anybody else.

Jensen worked his tail off until high school mercifully ended. He got accepted to Columbia’s writing program. His writing was just good enough for him to recognize really exceptional writing when he read it. After graduation he stayed in New York and drifted into publishing.

A manuscript came his way about a young man dealing with his sexuality. About the world falling apart while fire burned in the young man’s belly. About being abused and eventually abandoned by those who were supposed to protect you always.

Jensen cried for a very long time reading that book.

Tom didn’t comfort. Didn’t coddle. Just told him that there’s only one way to make it better. Make it worth it. Make Jensen worthwhile.

They need to change things. Take a stand. Make a difference.

It’s not about love. Because love doesn’t make a difference.



It’s not like Jared can really go without seeing Jensen given that they work in the same place, but they haven’t really been together in days. It’s like the Earth and the moon - they are circling around each other.

The wedding is next week.

He sees the sadness in Sandy’s eyes even if she doesn’t say anything more aloud about it. This perception should surprise Jared, but it doesn’t because when he really knows someone, when he loves them … it’s easier to read them. At least some of the time. It was true, of course, with his parents. True for certain teachers and counselors whom he got to know well. And it’s extra true with Jensen. Except Jensen will hardly even look at him now.

Sandy wants to do something this weekend. Clearly she wants to get Jared’s mind off things. She’s already apologized but that’s ridiculous because it’s not her fault. He turns Sandy down and says he just wants to spend the weekend alone. When the doorbell rings on Saturday night he assumes it’s her not taking no for an answer.

This is why he swings the door open without looking and falls dead silent when instead of looking way down he’s caught by green eyes nearly at eye level blinking nervously at him. Jensen immediately raises his hand to hold up a DVD case.

“It’s called In the Shadow of the Moon. A documentary. You probably saw it. Hell, you probably own it … but I thought … “

Jared waves Jensen inside, confused. “You’re giving me a documentary about the moon?”

Jensen walks directly to the Earthrise print and stands before it, his back to Jared. “No,” he says softly turning around but not quite meeting his eyes. “I wanted to watch it with you. If that’s okay.” His hand runs over the back of his head. “I’ve missed you.”

The unexpected honesty jolts Jared. His face breaks into a grin. “I’ve missed you, too.” He points to the DVD. “I have seen it, do own it. But it’s really good.”

Jensen smiles at him. Jared can’t tell just then how real the smile is and has to assume the best.

Jared remembers his manners and offers Jensen a beer. They sit but the DVD is ignored as Jensen tucks his leg under himself on the sofa and says, “Tell me more about you.”

That’s a strange request. He doesn’t recall anyone ever asking him that before. “What do you mean?” Jensen’s face is completely unreadable now and Jared feels like he’s missing things but there’s nothing he can do. He tamps down the frustration.

“Anything. How about telling me what you don’t like.”

Jared mulls this. Tries to think for a minute what the right answer should be. Jensen confuses him. He’s not even sure why he’s here. In the end he does what he always does and spits out the truth. “Um … I hate hot weather, always preferred winter. Don’t like it when I know I’m going to be late. That really bothers me. And walking through doors I've never been through before. Oh, and … public toilets.” He looks down and feels stupid because that’s stupid. His parents had tried to break him of that one for years.

Jensen is looking at him neutrally. Or the closest Jared can perceive as neutral. “I don’t like public toilets that much myself.”

Jared’s eyes widen because really? It’s like too good to be true. “I know, right? They’re always dirty even if they’re clean. And I find it hard to pee if anyone is listening.”

He thinks the laugh he gets at that is with him and not at him. At least he really hopes that’s the case. “Nobody can, dude.”

It’s quiet again and Jared still doesn’t know why Jensen is here. He watches the other man wriggle the leg under himself and turn back to Jared. He looks toward the DVD but he thinks that Jensen isn’t done talking yet. “What don’t you like, Jensen?”

His friend seems surprised by the question even though Jared thought it made sense to ask it back. “I don’t like rude people. Or folks who don’t wear their seatbelts. I hate being spoiled about endings. Mostly though I guess I hate being judged for who I am, rather than what I do.”

“My Poppa said that to me … actions rather than words. But for me … I need the words. I need to hear what someone is saying and I have to hope that they are being honest.”

Jensen meets his eyes and holds them and Jared blinks once but holds the connection. “What are your favorite foods?”

Jared guesses they aren’t yet done getting to know each other better. He wonders if Jensen will spend all night asking him questions. It’s doesn’t bother him exactly. It makes sense but he’s questioning the need to concentrate it like this. He knows there’s something going on beyond what he’s hearing and it’s bothering him. “I like grilled cheese sandwiches. And Kix cereal. And I love to drink chocolate milk.”

The beer that he’d handed Jensen is on the table barely touched. Jensen glances at it briefly before saying, “Yeah? Can … do you have chocolate syrup?”

Jared’s heart skips slightly because he always has chocolate syrup and he’s always up for chocolate milk. But it’s childish and Sandy said not to offer that to people, told him to offer soft drinks or beer. He doesn’t mind an occasional beer. But it’s nothing compared to a tall, cold glass of chocolate milk. He bounces up. “C’mon.”

They head into the kitchen together. Jensen is looking around again and Jared wonders once more what he’s seeing. Is he judging the old cabinets, the far-from-modern almond colored appliances? “Momma wanted to renovate one day. But then she … well, once she was gone Poppa and I just never cared that much about the kitchen.”

“What? No, it’s great. Like a trip back in time.” Jensen’s lips purse slightly. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just … so warm in here.”

“Oh, I can turn up the AC when we get back inside. It never reaches in here. I can turn on the window fan.”

Jensen touches his arm. “No.” He feels a gentle squeeze and looks down to where Jensen is gripping his forearm. Jensen suddenly lets go and Jared misses the touch. “I suck at saying what I mean, don’t I? I meant that it’s cozy, lived in. Real.”

Jared looks around at the shabby chipped wood finish on the cabinets, his eyes skim the counter stains that will never come out. If he closes his eyes he can still smell the cookies his mother would bake sometimes or the sound of his father’s voice saying, “Woman … what’s for dinner?” before breaking into his deep throated chuckle.

He’s not sure what to reply to that. “Your kitchen is very clean.” It had looked like a mirror with all the stainless steel.

Jensen laughs and Jared wonders if he said something stupid again. “Hey, chocolate milk, right?”

That gets Jared’s attention back to task. He opens the fridge and removes a carton of milk and a large bottle of Hershey’s syrup placing both on the counter.

Lifting up the syrup Jensen says, “Didn’t think you had to refrigerate this.”

Jared smiles. “That’s the secret. Everything has to be very cold.”

He removes two tall clear glasses from the cupboard and pulls open the drawer beneath for his extra-long soda fountain style spoons.

As he squeezes a generous amount of syrup into the glasses he sees Jensen playing with the spoons. “Neat. Haven’t seen these in years.”

Jared studies the long, thin neck of the spoons. They’ve always been in that drawer. It’s one of those things he’s just taken for granted. Jensen hands him the milk.

“Whole milk,” Jensen declares.

“Huh?”

“ ‘S just that everyone seems to drink fat free these days.”

Jared scoffs. “Ugh. Disgusting. That’s ridiculous.” He pours and starts flicking his wrist super fast to mix it up. “Besides I work out enough to make up for it.”

“I’ll say.”

Jared looks up and his stirring slows slightly. Jensen is staring and licking his lips. Jared squints and remembers that usually means someone is hungry. He finishes stirring the first drink and then tackles the second. Soon both are frothy and perfect.

“You hungry? I can make us grilled cheese.”

His words seem to break whatever spell had captured Jensen because the other man nods. In a few minutes Jared has buttered the pan and peeled back the plastic on the individually wrapped Kraft American cheese slices. Jensen keeps looking at him with this indescribable expression. Of course indescribable is pretty much what most expressions seem like to Jared but he’d gotten used to reading Jensen a little better than that.

He uses a thick plate to squish down the sandwich so that cheese oozes slightly at the sides as the bread browns. Once it reaches a perfect golden color, Jensen helps carry it all into the dining room. They sit kitty-corner to each other, knees knocking together slightly under the table.

“We could eat inside and watch TV if you want.”

“No,” Jensen says. “This is nice.” His eyes again wander around the dining space. Momma’s flower painting hangs on the wall. She wasn’t much of an artist but she wasn’t shy about hanging her stuff.

He tells Jensen that his momma painted it. Jensen’s eyes go soft as he puts down the sandwich. “My mom also paints. Well, she used to. I haven’t seen her pick it up in years.”

Jared doesn’t know what to say. He picks up his chocolate milk and goes to drink when Jensen interrupts him. “Wait … a toast?”

Toasting with chocolate milk seems strange but nothing about Jensen is ordinary so Jared goes along. He lifts his glass. “Should we toast your … I mean you and Tom?”

Jensen’s impossibly large eyes seem to grow even bigger. “You’ll be there, right? I mean, I realize that the invitations went out already-Jared, you’ll be there, yeah?”

The glass suddenly feels heavy and Jared puts it down quickly, a little spilling over the edge. “Wh-at? No. I can’t. Why would you want-?”

“I need to see a friend. I need to see you. Please Jared, promise me.”

Jared picks up the milk and gulps a bunch down to fight the pressure building inside him, behind his eyes. He wants to yell again but that’s not right. You don’t do that. Jensen needs a friend. And Jared’s heartbreak has nothing to do with that. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Jensen’s lips tilt up slightly before he lifts the milk to his lips and takes a swallow. Jared watches his Adam’s apple move slowly up and down. The motion is slow and sensual and signals are sent south. He swallows hard. “Neil Armstrong isn’t in that documentary. Doesn’t do many interviews. But a lot of the other astronauts are in it.”

“I read the back of the box. Looks good.” Jensen chuckles at him. “You have a chocolate mustache.”

Swiping at his lips Jared smiles back. “So do you.”

Jensen goes to lick it off and Jared literally squirms in his seat from the tingle that gives him. He goes back to his sandwich and finishes it off in three quick bites. A look up and he sees Jensen has also polished off his sandwich and is slurping down the last of the milk. He releases a tiny burp and looks at Jared like a twelve-year-old caught at something naughty. Jared can’t help himself and bursts into laughter. Seconds later Jensen joins him and they both giggle until tears fill their eyes.

“Dude, at least it only came out that way,” Jensen says catching his breath. “All that dairy and it could easily get worse.”

“Oh … that’s nasty.”

“You served it.”

“Dairy doesn’t get to me.”

“What does?”

Jared thinks about this. “Once we were taking a family vacation. Poppa was driving and didn’t want to stop even though Momma did. So he ended up pulling into a drive-thru. But we didn’t eat fast food much. Don’t remember now which it was.”

“God, I hope it wasn’t Taco Bell.”

A laugh escapes. “Maybe. Can’t remember. All I know is that suddenly my folks are cranking down all the windows even though it’s freezing out.”

Standing to take his plate to the sink Jensen laughs again, deep and hearty. “Where were you going?”

“Williamsburg that year. I always liked history and so my parents took me to historical sites a lot.”

“You studied history, right?”

“Mmm. Not the most useful degree. Poppa said it didn’t matter. To study what I loved.”

“What did your father do?”

Jared looks down as he puts the glasses to dry in the rack. “He ran the foundation.” At Jensen’s raised eyebrows Jared continues. “My grandparents had money. So they set up this … trust, I guess, to funnel funds out to other charities. Grandma Padalecki ran it. Poppa did a bunch of different things growing up. Worked all over. In a library, sold shoes, did a stint at the Fulton Fish Market.” That last one makes Jared smile. He peers over at Jensen who looks, well, enthralled. “He was coaching basketball when he met my mother. She was a teacher.”

Pausing, Jared leads Jensen back into the living room and they take up their places again on the sofa. Jensen grabs the long discarded beer and tastes it experimentally before making a face. Must have gotten warm.

“When his mother died he took over,” Jared finishes quickly. Jensen has no trouble picking up on the lost thread.

“Who is running it now, Jared?”

He looks down. “It’s not … I mean it is a lot of money in a way, but not as much as … I’d been doing it for Poppa the last few years anyway. Takes a few hours each night. I meet with the attorneys once a month.”

A hand cups his shoulder. “Why are you working in our mailroom, Jay?”

“Sandy. I mean … I met Sandy when she was soliciting for the Lower Manhattan Family Shelter. She applied for a grant. After that, I don’t know … we kept talking. She knew that the foundation wasn’t really full-time for me. And she thought maybe it would be good to have somewhere to go every day and a place to meet people.” Jared looks at Jensen and smiles involuntarily. “She was right. I met you.”

“Will there ever be a time you won’t surprise me?”

“I don’t-“

It happens fast. One minute Jared’s breathing his own air and the next he’s breathing Jensen’s and the warmest, softest thing he’s ever felt is moving against his mouth. It’s over so quick he finds himself tumbling forward in an effort to keep up.

Jensen stands quickly and swirls around. “I … I’m sorry.” Jared rises with him. He doesn’t know what to think. That was his first kiss. Part of him is dancing and the other wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“I broke the heart of the first boy I ever kissed,” Jensen says softly. He turns slowly and they are facing each other again.

“So it’s a pattern, then?”

He can’t make out what’s going on in Jensen’s expression but just then he can’t care. He walks closer and brings his hands to each side of Jensen’s face. He thinks he should ask if it’s okay but then again Jensen didn’t and the want overtakes everything. This time Jensen parts his lips slightly and Jared tilts his head instinctively and Jared thinks this is the best thing he’s ever felt until he feels the moist end of Jensen’s tongue reach tentatively toward his own.

The kiss deepens and Jared realizes the moans are coming from him and that things are moving faster than he knows how to process. A sharp tug at his lower back brings them closer and he feels the sharp edge of Jensen’s erection against his thigh. He’s hard himself and lets himself thrust forward once before fear overtakes him and he pulls back gasping.

“Why?” he gets out as his lips still tingle.

“Because I’m too fucked up for words.” Jensen shrugs and Jared learned that means indifference, but that hurts so he hopes that’s wrong. “And I needed to feel something one last time.”

The words swirl until their meaning crystallize. “I can’t … you can’t expect me to still be there.”

That reaches Jensen and his face seems to just crumble. “You promised.”

Jared can’t stand to be in the same room with Jensen any longer. His body is literally shaking and he struggles to breathe slowly. “You should go.”

He follows Jensen as he makes his way to the door. “You’ll be there?” Jensen asks again.

“Jesus fuck, Jensen … “ The pleading look doesn’t end, doesn’t stop, doesn’t quit.

“Twelve men walked on the moon.” Jensen is staring right at him but Jared can’t make anything out. It’s blank. Jared blanches because he doesn’t know if Jensen is making fun of him. And Jensen’s been many things but never mean and Jared will  break if that’s what’s happening.

Jensen must sense Jared’s distress because he quickly speaks again, “I’m sorry, Jared. I heard Sandy say that and-never mind. You deserve so much … You’re sweet and funny and so smart. I hope … someday you’ll find someone who deserves you. And you’ll have a family again. And what I’m doing … maybe it’ll help in a way to make that possible.”

Jared can’t keep back the choked anger any longer. “What you’re doing is a lie!”

“Yeah, but it’ll be the top lie on the eleven o’clock news.”

To Chapter 5

To Master Post