(no subject)
Title - Heartbreak shatters like broken glass
Author - stare_at_walls
Characters - Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki.
Rating - PG-13. I think.
Disclaimer - Not mine. DUH. Fic wouldn't exist if i owned them.:D
Summary - Jensen probably is the biggest loser to exist. Ever. Jared's possibly laughing at him for being a gay idiot. :(
Notes - Part of the Heartbroken series. Jensen POV. 1st part, 2nd part (Jared POV), 3rd part (Jared POV), This is the 4th part.
Warnings - ANGST! ANGST! ANGST! And also, some schmoop? :D Read pls. Feedback is NEEDED.
Also, playlist found here.
It’s a creeping feeling, this. One that crawls around the edges, leaves you breathless every other thought or so, inducing binge drinking as it goes along.
I love you.
He knows he’s being desperate, but some part of him wishes he said it back too.
Come Christmas morning, Jensen wakes up with a splitting headache.
Truth of the matter is that Jensen wakes up on Christmas morning because of his phone.
But he still has that headache.
At exactly 6 am his phone rings, each ring pulsating along with his throbbing pulse, humid darkness taking it in.
Jensen ignores it, lets the answering machine take the call. But what really wakes Jensen up is the fact that no one’s on the other end.
Or at least, it’s just quiet.
oOo
Something tells Jensen that it might be Jared.
He tells himself that he’s far too deep in this drama-fest and that he should ignore the fact that it might be Jared.
But he still reaches for the phone to answer-
Jensen inhales deeply- an attempt to gather voice, and maybe courage but then-
He hears an audible breath on the other side of the line and as Jensen opens his mouth to talk-
Too late. He’s left there with his mouth partly-opened, listening to the infinite squawking of the phone.
Until he puts the phone down, that is.
oOo
Jensen feels really tired, like all the possible energy he has got sucked out of him, but at the same time he’s restless.
He spends the next few hours staring across his apartment’s dining table, his hands half-covering his face. “Merry Christmas Ackles.” He mumbles to himself as the wall clock audibly ticks away the seconds that pass.
At 8 am, his phone starts ringing again. This time, Jensen makes sure to answer it, almost lunging for the phone in the process.
“Hello?”
Turns out that it’s his mom inviting him to come over “at least today”. Or tomorrow. Or to stay there overnight. Or anything at all.
Jensen smiles, then realizes that his mom really can’t see his smile. So instead he says thanks mom, I’ll take a raincheck on that, I’m still bushed.
And he hangs up.
There’s a twinge of disappointment in there somewhere, and it’s probably because it wasn’t Jared.
But hey. It’s Christmas, almost New Year’s, and isn’t it time to make a list of things to forget?
Jensen makes a mental note to put down “forget Padalecki” in number one.
But he thinks he’s not going to be able to fulfill that resolution anytime soon.
oOo
Jensen attempts to distract himself and opens his laptop to randomly surf the internet.
His headache is still bothering him. But he’s really got nothing to distract him.
He goes to the websites that pop up whenever he types in his name and he ends up going to Livejournal. He sifts through the fangirls’ (and probably some fanboys’) journals and accounts about Dean, his acting and seriously-
This is some helpful shit. Because they’re giving him tips and stuff on what they want to see from him as Dean and Jensen really thinks that the whole “looking at websites about you” actually help.
At one point he clicks a link by mistake, but he lets it load anyways. He puts his glasses on and squints at the screen.
Then he sees it. There’s an array of pictures- him with Jared.
He sees a certain picture of them both. It’s at a network party he thinks, and the picture’s showing Jared and him, smiling and a bit bored, but he can’t stop looking at Jared. His smile’s so happy, as if he was really glad to be there. His eyes trace the outline of Jared’s arm draped around his shoulders, almost possessively- screaming the thought of mine.
His heart twists a little at this, his eyelashes fluttering anxiously as he wills himself to look away from the monitor.
But he can’t.
oOo
At that exact moment, the phone rings.
Jensen looks at the phone, surprised, for a good 10 seconds or so before picking it up.
“Hello?” Jensen’s voice is tentative, wary, and strained.
Nothing but silence.
“Jared.” Jensen says, almost without thought. His tone is a question mixed with a statement. Seeming to say and ask:
I know it’s you.
A second passes, and as Jensen’s about to put the phone down-
“Jensen.” An audible inhale, and there he is.
Jensen stays silent. He doesn’t want to open his mouth. He’s afraid of what he might say again.
“Jen, I-” Jared’s voice is shaky, as if he’d been crying, or screaming before he actually called Jensen.
“Yeah, what?” Jensen snarls. He’s angry. At himself, at Jared, at Sandy, at the damned laptop- anything. He just doesn’t want this fucking drama anymore.
It’s obvious that Jared’s taken aback, because when he speaks again, the strain in his voice is much more obvious as he says: “Jen, I’m- I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. So am I.” Jensen says, his lips curling on the word I, dripping with sarcasm. Jensen makes to put the phone down, but Jared’s voice grows loud- a plea-
“Jen, I-” There’s a pregnant, two-second pause then there’s, “I love you Jensen. Shit.” Jensen hears that, even if the phone’s already an arm’s length away from him.
He shouts to the phone, “You drunk Padalecki? You wanna fuck around? Fuck you.” And slams the phone down with ferocity.
The sound echoes seemingly in his apartment, reverbates in his head.
He looks at the laptop, sees their picture together.
Tears are threatening to fall, but he shuts down the laptop and walks out his door.
oOo
Jensen highly considers calling Alcoholics Anonymous after today.
He’s bought more beer and gets home after dark.
At his apartment, he quickly goes inside, closes the door and drops his grocery bags tiredly.
He leans on his apartment door, sitting on the floor and pops open a can. A sad little smirk crosses his lips as he lifts the can to his lips, heart doing somersaults to the thought of one Jared Padalecki.
He’s finished half of the stock he’s bought (consisting of five 6-packs), and he’s drunk. Really drunk. The worst part of it is, his thoughts keep centering back on the one thing he wants to forget- he keeps of thinking about him, genuine smiles and warm hugs that say I care about you. Someone who really cares.
Fuck this if it isn’t giving him a difficult time.
Jensen’s hands are shaking, and he’s saying “fuck, fuck , fuck…” over and over again, because he doesn’t understand why he’s doing this.
He thinks about how much a big joke he must be to Jared right now. How much Jared’s laughing at him right now because he’s this huge, possibly gay-whatever-the-fuck idiot who fell in love with him and he thinks about how Jared’s marking him down as guy number 94 who “fell in love with me”- and “Fuck him, that asshole” Jensen thinks.
Jensen’s pissed and drunk and he’s saying “I hate you, I fucking hate you” repeatedly to the thought of Jared but he’s saying “I love you, damn it” again and again as he gulps down can after can.
Jensen stands up, and he can almost feel the heartbreak, almost feel the shattered pieces make a mess inside him. He wants to let this all out, because this is going to fucking kill him, so he punches the glass of his window.
Jensen tells himself that he’s not gonna cry this time, but two, three, five tears fall down anyways and a gasp or two let out as midnight creeps along.
I love you.
oOo
Jensen’s sitting on the floor, broken glass glinting maliciously in the moonlight.
More tears flow this time, unhindered, as his mind flashes thoughts about how much he wants to spend every moment he has with Jared.
Seconds later, someone’s knocking on his door.
He tries to get up, but he’s properly satiated so he can’t get himself to even stand up.
He sees the glow-in-the-dark numbers on the wall clock reading midnight. Jensen wonders who would be knocking on his door at midnight.
There’s still knocking, and Jensen ignores it.
The doorknob turns, and before he knows it, someone’s entering his apartment.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Jen?” And there it is, the honey-smooth rough-around-the edges voice that he’s been aching for this whole time.
Jensen tries to talk, says “The fuck’re you doin’ here?” but he doesn’t receive a reply.
There are rough, calloused hands tracing his jawline, gentle rubbing.
“Jared?” Jensen asks, voice cracking, emotion spilling out the edges. “Yeah?” Jared says, voice strangled by a longing so heavy, the air almost hung around it.
Jensen opens his mouth to ask another question, but then there are fingertips leaving marks like fire along his face and he feels the soft hushed brush of Jared’s lips against his-
Jensen breaks as easily as brittle glass, tears sliding silently down his cheeks as he feels Jared’s lips against his in this alcohol-induced stupor.
“I love you.”
The thought in Jensen’s head, said by Jared’s voice.
Jensen pulls Jared in, arms encircling almost desperately, afraid to lose him.
I love you.
The tinkle of broken glass moved away by Jared as he settles into Jensen’s arms is music to Jensen’s ears.
Quiet longing etched on their faces.
I love you.
Author - stare_at_walls
Characters - Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki.
Rating - PG-13. I think.
Disclaimer - Not mine. DUH. Fic wouldn't exist if i owned them.:D
Summary - Jensen probably is the biggest loser to exist. Ever. Jared's possibly laughing at him for being a gay idiot. :(
Notes - Part of the Heartbroken series. Jensen POV. 1st part, 2nd part (Jared POV), 3rd part (Jared POV), This is the 4th part.
Warnings - ANGST! ANGST! ANGST! And also, some schmoop? :D Read pls. Feedback is NEEDED.
Also, playlist found here.
It’s a creeping feeling, this. One that crawls around the edges, leaves you breathless every other thought or so, inducing binge drinking as it goes along.
I love you.
He knows he’s being desperate, but some part of him wishes he said it back too.
Come Christmas morning, Jensen wakes up with a splitting headache.
Truth of the matter is that Jensen wakes up on Christmas morning because of his phone.
But he still has that headache.
At exactly 6 am his phone rings, each ring pulsating along with his throbbing pulse, humid darkness taking it in.
Jensen ignores it, lets the answering machine take the call. But what really wakes Jensen up is the fact that no one’s on the other end.
Or at least, it’s just quiet.
oOo
Something tells Jensen that it might be Jared.
He tells himself that he’s far too deep in this drama-fest and that he should ignore the fact that it might be Jared.
But he still reaches for the phone to answer-
Jensen inhales deeply- an attempt to gather voice, and maybe courage but then-
He hears an audible breath on the other side of the line and as Jensen opens his mouth to talk-
Too late. He’s left there with his mouth partly-opened, listening to the infinite squawking of the phone.
Until he puts the phone down, that is.
oOo
Jensen feels really tired, like all the possible energy he has got sucked out of him, but at the same time he’s restless.
He spends the next few hours staring across his apartment’s dining table, his hands half-covering his face. “Merry Christmas Ackles.” He mumbles to himself as the wall clock audibly ticks away the seconds that pass.
At 8 am, his phone starts ringing again. This time, Jensen makes sure to answer it, almost lunging for the phone in the process.
“Hello?”
Turns out that it’s his mom inviting him to come over “at least today”. Or tomorrow. Or to stay there overnight. Or anything at all.
Jensen smiles, then realizes that his mom really can’t see his smile. So instead he says thanks mom, I’ll take a raincheck on that, I’m still bushed.
And he hangs up.
There’s a twinge of disappointment in there somewhere, and it’s probably because it wasn’t Jared.
But hey. It’s Christmas, almost New Year’s, and isn’t it time to make a list of things to forget?
Jensen makes a mental note to put down “forget Padalecki” in number one.
But he thinks he’s not going to be able to fulfill that resolution anytime soon.
oOo
Jensen attempts to distract himself and opens his laptop to randomly surf the internet.
His headache is still bothering him. But he’s really got nothing to distract him.
He goes to the websites that pop up whenever he types in his name and he ends up going to Livejournal. He sifts through the fangirls’ (and probably some fanboys’) journals and accounts about Dean, his acting and seriously-
This is some helpful shit. Because they’re giving him tips and stuff on what they want to see from him as Dean and Jensen really thinks that the whole “looking at websites about you” actually help.
At one point he clicks a link by mistake, but he lets it load anyways. He puts his glasses on and squints at the screen.
Then he sees it. There’s an array of pictures- him with Jared.
He sees a certain picture of them both. It’s at a network party he thinks, and the picture’s showing Jared and him, smiling and a bit bored, but he can’t stop looking at Jared. His smile’s so happy, as if he was really glad to be there. His eyes trace the outline of Jared’s arm draped around his shoulders, almost possessively- screaming the thought of mine.
His heart twists a little at this, his eyelashes fluttering anxiously as he wills himself to look away from the monitor.
But he can’t.
oOo
At that exact moment, the phone rings.
Jensen looks at the phone, surprised, for a good 10 seconds or so before picking it up.
“Hello?” Jensen’s voice is tentative, wary, and strained.
Nothing but silence.
“Jared.” Jensen says, almost without thought. His tone is a question mixed with a statement. Seeming to say and ask:
I know it’s you.
A second passes, and as Jensen’s about to put the phone down-
“Jensen.” An audible inhale, and there he is.
Jensen stays silent. He doesn’t want to open his mouth. He’s afraid of what he might say again.
“Jen, I-” Jared’s voice is shaky, as if he’d been crying, or screaming before he actually called Jensen.
“Yeah, what?” Jensen snarls. He’s angry. At himself, at Jared, at Sandy, at the damned laptop- anything. He just doesn’t want this fucking drama anymore.
It’s obvious that Jared’s taken aback, because when he speaks again, the strain in his voice is much more obvious as he says: “Jen, I’m- I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. So am I.” Jensen says, his lips curling on the word I, dripping with sarcasm. Jensen makes to put the phone down, but Jared’s voice grows loud- a plea-
“Jen, I-” There’s a pregnant, two-second pause then there’s, “I love you Jensen. Shit.” Jensen hears that, even if the phone’s already an arm’s length away from him.
He shouts to the phone, “You drunk Padalecki? You wanna fuck around? Fuck you.” And slams the phone down with ferocity.
The sound echoes seemingly in his apartment, reverbates in his head.
He looks at the laptop, sees their picture together.
Tears are threatening to fall, but he shuts down the laptop and walks out his door.
oOo
Jensen highly considers calling Alcoholics Anonymous after today.
He’s bought more beer and gets home after dark.
At his apartment, he quickly goes inside, closes the door and drops his grocery bags tiredly.
He leans on his apartment door, sitting on the floor and pops open a can. A sad little smirk crosses his lips as he lifts the can to his lips, heart doing somersaults to the thought of one Jared Padalecki.
He’s finished half of the stock he’s bought (consisting of five 6-packs), and he’s drunk. Really drunk. The worst part of it is, his thoughts keep centering back on the one thing he wants to forget- he keeps of thinking about him, genuine smiles and warm hugs that say I care about you. Someone who really cares.
Fuck this if it isn’t giving him a difficult time.
Jensen’s hands are shaking, and he’s saying “fuck, fuck , fuck…” over and over again, because he doesn’t understand why he’s doing this.
He thinks about how much a big joke he must be to Jared right now. How much Jared’s laughing at him right now because he’s this huge, possibly gay-whatever-the-fuck idiot who fell in love with him and he thinks about how Jared’s marking him down as guy number 94 who “fell in love with me”- and “Fuck him, that asshole” Jensen thinks.
Jensen’s pissed and drunk and he’s saying “I hate you, I fucking hate you” repeatedly to the thought of Jared but he’s saying “I love you, damn it” again and again as he gulps down can after can.
Jensen stands up, and he can almost feel the heartbreak, almost feel the shattered pieces make a mess inside him. He wants to let this all out, because this is going to fucking kill him, so he punches the glass of his window.
Jensen tells himself that he’s not gonna cry this time, but two, three, five tears fall down anyways and a gasp or two let out as midnight creeps along.
I love you.
oOo
Jensen’s sitting on the floor, broken glass glinting maliciously in the moonlight.
More tears flow this time, unhindered, as his mind flashes thoughts about how much he wants to spend every moment he has with Jared.
Seconds later, someone’s knocking on his door.
He tries to get up, but he’s properly satiated so he can’t get himself to even stand up.
He sees the glow-in-the-dark numbers on the wall clock reading midnight. Jensen wonders who would be knocking on his door at midnight.
There’s still knocking, and Jensen ignores it.
The doorknob turns, and before he knows it, someone’s entering his apartment.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Jen?” And there it is, the honey-smooth rough-around-the edges voice that he’s been aching for this whole time.
Jensen tries to talk, says “The fuck’re you doin’ here?” but he doesn’t receive a reply.
There are rough, calloused hands tracing his jawline, gentle rubbing.
“Jared?” Jensen asks, voice cracking, emotion spilling out the edges. “Yeah?” Jared says, voice strangled by a longing so heavy, the air almost hung around it.
Jensen opens his mouth to ask another question, but then there are fingertips leaving marks like fire along his face and he feels the soft hushed brush of Jared’s lips against his-
Jensen breaks as easily as brittle glass, tears sliding silently down his cheeks as he feels Jared’s lips against his in this alcohol-induced stupor.
“I love you.”
The thought in Jensen’s head, said by Jared’s voice.
Jensen pulls Jared in, arms encircling almost desperately, afraid to lose him.
I love you.
The tinkle of broken glass moved away by Jared as he settles into Jensen’s arms is music to Jensen’s ears.
Quiet longing etched on their faces.
I love you.