Second City Sin, 16/16 [NC-17] Jared/Jensen, RPS AU *COMPLETE
Title: Second City Sin
Author: truelyesoteric
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In between sin and goodness, in between innocence and knowledge, in between day and night. Chicago 1900. The Everleigh Club. Two people who never would have met otherwise meet as the world rumbles around them.
Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: Brothels, Male Sexin', Painful moments, happy moments, mentions of underage prostitution, somebody non important dying
Spoilers: None for Supernatural or real life. However there are spoilers for Sin In The Second City, which the whole kit and caboodle is based on. If you need to have background information Wikipedia this (or if you don’t believe that it exists).
Disclaimer: I'm playing with real people in fake situations. Jensen and Jared are real people and did not do any of this, unless they have a time machine. Minna and Ada were also real people, I mean no offense and I don't own them. I definitely do not own the Everleigh house because it’s illegal to own brothels.
PROLOGUE One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.
A/N: kitiaria was my excellent beta. Mistakes are mine, she is awesome.
keyweegirlie made me my wonderful banner. She is awesome.
EPILOUGE
1937 - Outside of Richardson, Texas.
Mackenzie sat on her back porch, rocking slowly with her grandchild in her arms.
It was hot and dusty and the dry brown land seemed to stretch on forever. The dust blew in all directions spewing particles but offered no relief from the intense summer heat.
She saw the vehicle approaching long before it was in any danger of reaching her. She watched silently, rocking, waiting. She knew that it would take almost a half an hour for the car to pull up in front of the porch. She was in no rush. For a time she just watched it, skin sweating in the shade.
She could see that it was covered in dust, but it was new enough. She didn’t see many cars on a daily basis, let alone new ones, which was why she didn’t expect it. It made her purse her lip in disapproval.
As the car neared, she could make out figures with her eagle eyes. The driver of the car was a grey haired man and the passenger was a woman with a proper hat. Mackenzie had seen enough drawings and read enough about such things that she would eat the hat if it weren’t the height of fashion.
She rolled her eyes heavenward; while she knew of fancier things in life, she was practical to the very bone. These travelers were hardly equipped with anything that could be considered remotely appropriate in this weather. You could tell when people were not from these parts when they didn’t take to dressing lightly in the Texas heat.
She let out a snort.
“Set the parlor for lemonade,” she yelled into the house and her daughter came to the door. Jenny looked out at the approaching car, making not of the make of the car and the dress of the occupants.
“Oh dear,” she muttered taking her baby and going into the house.
Mackenzie was calm, as was Jenny. Nothing much could shake either one of them; they had simply lived through too much, especially in the last year. Mackenzie had buried two children, a son and a daughter, and then Jenny had buried her husband, before finally Mackenzie had put to rest her own husband. Times were tough all over and both women went on, simply making the best of what they could, of what they still had.
Mackenzie had two things in this world that were still hers. One was her youngest and her secret favorite; the other was this house, bought and paid for her by a brother that she barely remembered from decades ago.
She was a proud woman, and these two things are what gave her comfort in this chaotic world. It gave her comfort at the imminent arrival of THIS car.
She figured that this was a party to come and seize her house and land, it was pretty common these days, everyone seemed to be loosing everything. She stood up tall because she was nothing if not a composed woman. She always secretly prided herself that. Everything in his house was hers; she hadn’t relied on a husband for this house or for the education she had. That was all hers; in a way it was her family legacy. The shady brothers that she knew loved her had given her a world that they could never be a part of. They had given her this, but they wouldn’t darken her doorstep with their sins of the past. They had given her this life in the sun.
They had paid for her freedom with their sins and she loved them all the more for it.
She owned land, but rents were slow in coming. Mackenzie wasn’t going to push her tenants off their land because they couldn’t pay she had determined early on. This place was something she had been given and she would keep giving. There would be no going back from that. She wasn’t that kind of person.
She would take care of her own, that was what had gotten her through her own life, having someone unselfishly take care of her well-being. So she would give nothing less.
Mackenzie stood on the front porch before her land and stood tall, waiting for the car to make its way, dust billowing behind it.
The car came to a stop at the end of the drive. Mackenzie noted the fine style of the woman’s clothing and the sharp cut of the gentleman’s. There was just something off about them, besides the dark clothing.
The woman, for all the drabness of the color of their clothing, was holding her hat to her head, laughing. Her wide mouth was lit up showing white teeth. Mackenzie could see her eyes, earthy hazel, slanted upwards, alight.
The man said something to her, undistinguishable under the sound of the car. The cut of his clothing was impeccable, his hair glinted gold and silver. He was tall, but hardly imposing. He carried himself casually as if this were no great thing.
Mackenzie was momentarily taken aback. They seemed almost jovial, which was not the usual temperament for those who were repossessing property.
The man motioned with his head to the woman and she turned to see Mackenzie on the porch. The woman was uncommonly tall. Mackenzie stood her ground, not caring that she probably hardly reached this woman’s shoulder.
The woman stepped forward hesitantly staring at Mackenzie. The woman walked forward as if in a dream, her expression changing, as if she were approaching something holy.
Mackenzie was a little put off, but she kept her composure. That was partially due to the fact that she knew that Jenny had a gun trained at these people from in the house.
“Mackenzie Ackles,” the woman asked in barely a whisper.
Mackenzie cocked her head.
“I was once,” she said slowly, trying to process this, “I haven’t been Mackenzie Ackles for awhile.”
The woman broke into a gigantic smile, “But you are?”
Mackenzie nodded.
The man felt a little left out so he spoke up without any kind of formality, “We’re here about your brother.”
Mackenzie put her hands on her hips and stood tall, “Joshua has been dead for years, I have nothing to say to you about him.”
The two new comers looked at each other.
“We’re not here about Joshua,” the man said slowly, not breaking eye contact with Mackenzie; they seemed to be talking only with their eyes.
“We’re here about Jensen,” the woman said turning back to Mackenzie.
Mackenzie grasped the edge of her porch; her breathing was the only thing that changed in any way. She didn’t say anything; she just looked out to the horizon, blinking rapidly. Nobody had mentioned Jensen in her presence in years, not even Joshua had when he had snuck around for visits.
The woman took a step forward, “We’re doing this all wrong. I’m Megan Padalecki and this is Chad Michael Murray. If we could take a few moments of your time I was wondering if we could talk to you about Jensen, we know your brother.”
Mackenzie didn’t look at them for a moment, she couldn’t. She could only focus on the horizon as she tried to steadied herself.
Finally she looked at them, less defensive than before.
“Come in,” she said with a voice full hospitality, her body language noticeably softer. It seemed that using Jensen’s name was using a magic word.
**
It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the room.
Megan was already moving to the sofa when Chad grabbed her arm. She looked at him startled, he nodded to the wall. Megan looked up and saw a large painting hanging there. She looked at him and smiled a little bit.
There in all its glory was a larger than life painting of Jensen. He was smiling that smile that he never seemed to realize he was showing. It was glowing and his eyes were looking down, they seemed to be luminescent. It was the kind of look that typically only happened when he had been drinking or when something happened that would make him hysterical and he would catch himself by surprise by just giving that unabashed look of contentment.
Megan knew that when the painting had been done he was nearing forty, but there was Jensen with that smile that made him look all of twelve years old.
Even sitting in the serious study with rows of books behind him and papers over the desk did nothing to lessen the fact that Jensen completely and totally had the innocence of a little kid.
Despite everything Jensen looked young and content.
Mackenzie came up behind them.
“You know him well,” she stated looking up at the picture, not bothering to make it a question. She hesitated a moment and then did as she always did, she simply spoke her mind, “He sent me things, there never was a name attached, but over the years I have received cloth, pictures, and books that were postmarked from Paris. There really was only one person who would send me such things. He sent me that.”
Megan smiled at a memory that Mackenzie didn’t share, “Yes that would be like Jensen.”
Part of Mackenzie hated this woman for knowing what Jensen was like, but a greater part of her wanted to know what this other woman knew, any scrap of information about Jensen was well worth it to her. It had just been so long and the unknown was not something Mackenzie enjoyed.
“Was he always like that?” she bluntly asked, “The last time I saw him he was twenty some and he looked so sad. ”
Chad and Megan just looked at her questioningly.
Mackenzie gathered all the courage that she could, “Was he really that happy, carefree? Or did some painter made him look like that? Paintings can lie, but in that one he looks relaxed and happy.”
Megan smiled a little, “Well you know he never smiled enough, but when he did he looked like that. There were things that would make him grin for days. He didn’t need anyone to embellish him.”
Mackenzie relaxed a little.
Chad rolled his eyes, “Jesus that boy didn’t need anything to make him look better. He really did fine on his own.”
“It’s by Tristan Ever,” Mackenzie said hesitantly, she didn’t want to seem like the stupid country hick who didn’t know who an artist from Paris was. The painting had come with a certificate of authentication and Mackenzie had done her research. Whatever her brother had become he certainly surrounded himself with talented people.
Megan giggled, “Yeah, TRISTAN could barely do him justice.”
Mackenzie recoiled because there was familiarity in that voice. It made her angry and a little jealous.
Chad rolled his eyes, “Yeah, TRISTAN was a huge fan.”
Mackenzie narrowed her eyes and her shoulders stiffening. The man’s tone seemed almost derogatory. She was far to protective of her brother to stand such things.
Megan didn’t notice for she suddenly noticed a row of books on the shelf under the picture. She motioned Chad to look.
Chad just looked heavenward; he didn’t even have to look at the books in order to know what they were.
“Let me guess, more presents from Paris” Chad said, “Those would be Leigh Ross books.”
Mackenzie nodded, feeling a little put out by these strange people who obviously knew more than they were telling.
Chad looked at her, tilted his head and gave his most seductive smile. Megan smacked him and walked towards Mackenzie.
Megan looked as if she wanted to take Mackenzie’s hand, to offer something, but the look on Mackenzie’s face was resolute. Megan seemed to know better than to offer something like this to this perfect stranger. So she stayed still.
Instead Megan turned to Chad and proceeded to exchange nonverbal thoughts and looks…significant looks that were driving Mackenzie crazy.
“What did Jensen tell you about his life?” she said hesitantly.
Mackenzie looked at them, her eyes guarded, “That he left when I was five and I got sick and from that time on he took care of me. He sent me money every month, made sure that I was well educated and always taken care of. He would write me letters from various places telling me all about towns and cities that I’ve never been to. He’s been everywhere.”
Megan and Chad exchanged a look and moved to make this as easy as possible.
Mackenzie held out her hand, his palm out stopping whatever the pair was about to say, “He came back for a year or so. He seemed…a little broken. I’m not stupid. I know what he did.”
Chad looked at the books.
“You do?” Megan asked slowly.
Mackenzie shrugged, “I grew up in a whore house. I know what people do to survive.”
It was so blunt that even Chad couldn’t find a response fast enough.
Mackenzie nodded to herself, “I know what my mother did. I know where my roots are. I know that Jensen wasn’t working some road crew at thirteen making enough to support us both.”
Megan nodded slowly, “We should sit down.”
Chad and Megan moved to sit down but Mackenzie looked at the shelf of books and smiled sadly.
“They’re gorgeous books,” Mackenzie said from far away, “You can tell the author struggled, but you can also see some love.”
Megan opened her mouth and Mackenzie stopped her with a stare.
“I’m not stupid,” Mackenzie whispered, a little softer this time, “I’ve seen how hard life can be. I’ve seen shady things and had people try to hurt me. I know what life is and it typically can’t be found in the pages of a book. But I loved a good man for a good many years so I know love and happiness exists.”
They were looking at each other again and Mackenzie felt pain for a brother she barely knew. It made her tongue loose, “You know what? I know what he was, but part of me wanted to believe that he was something more; I want to believe that this Leigh Ross girl was writing about him. The stories and the poems that talked about her lover are so sweet, I mean there is a lot of pain, but there is just something so powerful in those books. I just wanted to believe that maybe after all of his sacrifice he had found something.”
Chad and Megan looked uncomfortable. They were both waiting for the other one to start talking.
Mackenzie looked up at the painting, “I just wanted to believe that the man up there was free and happy and not just some guy’s kept boy still making money by selling himself.”
Mackenzie picked up a book, “I would think of him sometimes and read this,” she picked up a worn copy of the book Of the Distance Crossed by Leigh Ross, “I would think I know that my brother is worth crossing the ocean for, maybe somebody saw it too.”
She blinked and hoped like hell these strangers wouldn’t try to comfort her, she couldn’t stand it right now.
She looked up at the two of them on the couch and sighed as she braced herself for the truth, “He was the artist guy’s kept boy wasn’t he.”
Chad looked at the painting and tilted his head from side to side and Megan stood up quickly.
“No,” she said vehemently.
“Yes,” Chad decided.
They looked at each other.
Megan glared at Chad, “Jensen wasn’t a kept boy. NEVER after he saw you.”
“But he was involved with the artist,” Chad pointed out.
Mackenzie looked at the two of them as if these two strangers wearing black, who had shown up in their dusty new car, might in fact be absolutely crazy.
Megan took a step towards her, trying to figure out how to say what she had come to say, “Those books, the ones you loved, the ones that meant so much to you, well they should mean everything to you, but they weren’t about Jensen.”
Megan could see the confusion on Mackenzie’s face and she looked for the words. Fortunately Chad had no such need to collect himself.
Chad stood next to her, “They’re by Jensen. They describe his epic love which has made us all nauseous for years and years.”
Megan elbowed him in the ribs.
“Jensen wrote those books,” Megan said, “He wrote them about my brother, my brother is the painter.”
“I - I don’t understand,” Mackenzie said weakly.
“Your brother has spent the last thirty years with my brother. My brother worships the ground that your brother walks on and your brother crossed the ocean to be with him,” Megan said softly, waiting for repulsion at the thought of two men together, it wouldn’t be the first time.
Mackenzie steadied herself, her eyes tearing, “And he’s not a kept boy?”
“I know somebody who owns one fourth of his ass,” Chad muttered.
Megan looked at him like his death was imminent and Chad wisely shut up.
Megan shook her head, “Jensen hasn’t been a boy by anyone’s stretch of the imagination for a long time, it’s his sixtieth birthday in two days. He hasn’t been kept for even longer than that. He is completely a force unto himself. He has an empire made with ink stained fingers.”
“I…” Mackenzie said in astonishment, “What happened?”
Megan smiled, “He had a hard life and then he met someone, someone who didn’t want to take him away, but just wanted him to be him.”
Chad snorted, “And then there was an evil lady who tried to ruin that and then love parted ways.”
“And then?” Mackenzie asked, almost daring not to hope.
“Jensen crossed an ocean,” Megan said in hushed tones.
***
1907 - Paris
Jensen stood before the door. It was a door plain and simple. He had seen many in his life, some better, some worse.
It had taken him two years to get to this door and now that he was here, he was quite sure that he was crazy.
Totally Certifiably batshit insane.
Two years ago he hadn’t been crazy. He had stepped aware from Chicago in pain and confused. He walked away with money and a gentleman’s wardrobe.
By the time he had arrived in Texas he had more money than when he started. This time he had money - from selling the clothes off his back instead of his body - and felt a growing apprehension at seeing his little sister for the first time in almost two decades.
He wasn’t crazy then. He knew how to be calm and to keep his composure. Then his little firebrand of a sister had happened and for the first time in his life he was an adult in the world.
For six months he stayed with her and was faced with so many conservative views. It was an adult life, but not one that he recognized. She got him and job and introduced her to his friends and encouraged him to court local girls. It was adult life, but not his. He felt like a fraud. He was under so much pressure to be this normal long lost brother of Mackenzie Ackles that he completely lost who he was.
Jared had been the powder keg that had blown up the glass tower he had lived in and now Jensen was struggling to find the pieces and build up ‘Jensen’ again.
He couldn’t do it in Texas. He didn’t feel like he was moving forwards or going anywhere, he certainly wasn’t moving towards Jared.
So Jensen left Texas using the last of the money from the old days, money from others using his body, to buy his sister a house. It seemed fitting, he just didn’t want to keep the money near and this seemed like a way to undo the taint on the bills, giving it away meant that the was free of it.
His sister was to marry the guy she loved, a guy who was a little bumbling and young, but a man she loved nonetheless.
It made Jensen’s heart ache, with longing.
He missed Jared everyday.
Six months after Jensen arrived in Texas he got on a train with pennies in his pockets and rough materials on his back. He had worked for months for this, making less money than he had been able to earn at thirteen in one day and wearing clothes that were worse than he had worn when he was fifteen. They were scratchy.
Sitting in the train, crossing the country again he found that he never had the opportunity to find out that he didn’t like the third class compartments.
Even through all of that, he felt a little flicker of hope.
He felt good as he left Texas, because what he did have was completely his. He hadn’t made the money for the clothes or this trip on his back. The money that he had was nothing to do with his body; he had made the money with his brain.
When people asked what he was, he could say ‘teacher,’ and it was true. He was proud of it.
He had left his past behind and he would reach Jared by completely respectable means. When he saw Jared it was going to be on honest terms.
However to get that money he had to take a year long teaching position at a prestigious boy’s school in New England.
Which was as daunting task as any he had undertaken.
There were times in his year of teaching, when Jensen seriously considered selling his ass if it meant he didn’t have to deal with bratty, spoiled, rich kids. Teaching these creatures, who thought that they were lofty and worldly, Baudelaire and Voltaire nearly made him give up.
Then he realized something. Jensen realized that part of who he was, he had learned at the house. Jensen found that the poised educated man wasn’t just an act. He actually found that he was adept at it, he loved the literature. He was also good at composing his own writings.
Moreover others saw him in this light and respected him a little.
It was accepted without question that he belonged here, that he belonged teaching in a prestigious atmosphere. The parents doted on him and the boys clamored around him.
Jensen was even more shocked that he was well equipped to deal with the pre-pubescent hellions who ran through these halls.
Although to a certain extent it was more to the fact that he had dealt with Tommy and Mike for so many years that corralling insanity was something that came like second nature.
And it didn’t hurt his association with the boys that he could tell dirtier jokes and dirtier stories than any of the boy’s imaginations, but that was mostly due to his life, which was becoming more and more another person’s life.
The part of him that was always forced to be something for other; wasn’t being forced to be anything anymore and he really found footing he could stand on.
He was a little shocked to find that people really liked him, not for his front or for his bravado, but actually because they liked him.
After his first year teaching he had been showered with offers to stay, to go to another school, but he took the random offer to be a teacher to a rich American family in Paris.
He bought his own way and carried his own clothes and was so proud that he was going to be arriving in Paris his own man, and a man he surprisingly liked.
He was on the boat across the Atlantic when he realized that he may in fact be crazy.
He was stuck on a boat; a mode of transportation he was unhappy to find made him violently ill, under stormy seas. He was stuck in the third class cabins, which were more like being packed in a can and he didn’t like them anymore than he had liked traveling with the common people on the train.
The fourth day he again contemplated selling himself for a comfortable bed with less people in it than had lived in the entire Everleigh house.
However he was saved by the fact that men don’t like their prostitutes with vomit on them.
And the fact that he was unsullied now and he didn’t want to appear before Jared corrupted.
Eventually he got better and he got worse.
The sickness stopped, but his brain kicked in.
That is when he had starting thinking about how completely and utterly stupid it was. People who are romantic believe in things like crossing an ocean for you lover.
Jensen was not a romantic.
Jensen was cynical that love even existed.
Jensen felt insane for making this kind of grand gesture.
He was going to a country, where he barely knew the language, to teach children, which he didn’t really like, in hopes that he might possibly run into someone who probably didn’t even remember that he had once been infatuated with a hooker in Chicago, this now ex-lover would be ashamed of his past and be married with five kids and back to running his family business, forgetting the temporary insanity of the Everleigh Club.
That was one of the more tame scenarios.
Jensen explained this theory a few times to the seagull on board. This seagull had just happened to get stuck on the boat and was going to be rudely transplanted and thrust into a far away land. The seagull would spend the rest of its life confused, but the most confusing thing of this seagull’s life was the ranting drunk man on the ship. -
Jensen was brought back from his reminiscing to look at the door in front of him. To be honest he was a little terrified of this door.
Before Jensen found this door, his insanity had stayed between himself and a random immigrant seagull.
But he was going to touch the door and open it. He was going to make his crazies real.
Jensen had never allowed himself to feel like he was doing something out of his control. He rarely let himself do anything that didn’t have twelve different possible outcomes. Since St. Louis he had never just let go.
But when he had left the states for Paris he had thrown away the safety net.
He was gong to Paris for a guy he didn’t know still wanted him.
When he had stepped off the boat and was bound and determined that this would be okay, because he was tired of ranting to seagulls.
When he reached Paris an even larger problem presented itself, namely the fact that he had no idea how to find Jared in this crowd. He could speak the language, but he was hardly a people person these days. He didn’t know how to ask if someone knew Jared Padalecki. It seemed a bit awkward to put into a conversation.
So on the days that he wasn’t teaching the horrible Alba children he walked the city in hopes that somewhere Jared would be sitting in a café.
After a few months he was quite sure he was crazy.
So he just started drinking in the pubs with some of the other employees of the house. He managed to curb the fact that he was always looking up at the door for a tall head.
He had woken up one morning feeling like his head had been split open and regretting the day he ever met Jared because this was complete insanity. It was the typical start to his days
He walked into the kitchen and the maids there laughed at him and made him coffee.
They flirted outrageously even though they had already learned that there was no point and mocked his behavior last night.
Jensen just waved them off and ignored everything that they said.
“You butcher your French when you’re drunk,” Juliet informed him.
Claudia giggled, “He sounds just like that Padalecki kid.”
Jensen nearly choked on his coffee. They barely noticed; they went on about how the Padalecki kid spoke French with the oddest accent and if he weren’t such a good painter he would be kicked out of France.
“Jared?” Jensen asked with forced calm, “You know Jared?”
Claudia looked at him through thoughtful slatted eyes, “He’s one of the new painters in town, he’s been here for a few years, always running around with that group: his sister, the handsy one, the tall dark and handsome one, the crazy one, and Madame Bush who makes those beautiful clothes.”
That was really all it took. Four months in Paris and an offhand comment did what days of searching couldn’t.
It didn’t take long to find the studio of one Jared Padalecki and here he was, staring at the door, not really wanting to take the next step and walk inside to find that his whirlwind relationship was nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
But for all that Jensen was, he wasn’t a coward. He had crossed the ocean and dealt with children and made friends with seagulls, he was a fucking saint.
He could do anything.
He took a deep breath and willed this to be so.
He knocked on the door, taking a breath to steel himself for whatever happened.
He wasn’t prepared enough though.
A skinny brunette with ridiculously blue eyes opened the door and Jensen chucked the thought that this was in anyway a good idea out the window.
He smiled and poised himself, excuses ready to get away from Jared and his blue eyed girl, “I’m sorry, I have the wrong house.”
The woman just looked at him for a moment and then grabbed his arm before he could scuttle away.
“I don’t think so,” she said clearly in American English, “I think you found the right house.”
The girl looked appraisingly at him, as if she knew him. Jensen wondered when he had become so transparent.
“Jared,” she called into the room, “Get your ass out here.”
“Lexi,” that voice boomed, “I’m in the middle of something! Tell Mike that I don’t need to see any more of his-”
“Just get out here,” the girl said, picking up her hat and pushing Jensen into the room, “You will not regret it and if you do I’ll make out with Chad.”
Jensen wasn’t used to being manhandled by strange women, but as he stepped into the room the sight before him was familiar.
The walls were covered with paintings and most of those paintings were his life eons ago. The Everleigh Club was in those frames, its grandeur exemplified. The rooms, the piano, some of the girls, wearing outfits of all the parties, there were paintings that encapsulated his life, of the only place that he had ever been comfortable.
This made him feel really uncomfortable.
Then he saw something that shook him to his foundation.
The oddest thing one was the far wall, the one that had almost twenty paintings of Jensen. Some of the paintings were portraits, and some of them were almost awkwardly intimate. He saw himself naked and sleeping and more venerable than he ever wanted anyone seeing.
He was laid bare on that wall, every aspect of him was clearly drawn.
He felt so exposed and when he heard that voice he felt as if he was going to fall apart.
“It must be something big if you are willing to have sex with someone you call the eternal douche bag,” the voice said.
He heard a rustle and Jared came into the room, wiping his hands.
“Sorry sir,” Jared said smiling politely, noticing the man in the room.
Jensen’s back was turned so for a minute he could compose himself in hopes that he could be that man on the wall. The one before him was the first day he had met Jared, perfectly dressed and oh so very composed.
Jensen turned around and Jared didn’t show any sign of recognition.
Jensen withered on the spot, figuring that Jared couldn’t possible want this man in the cheap suit and glasses when compared to the glorious man on the wall.
There was a beat.
Jensen saw the exact moment that Jared realized who he was looking at.
Jared was struck dumb for that moment, his jaw literally dropped and he could do nothing but stand there. Jensen averted his eyes under the scrutiny and just looked at the paintings.
“You didn’t forget about me,” Jensen said quietly, not able to look at Jared.
When he was finally able to look up, Jared was standing there with a look that was startled and dazed.
Jensen stood up stoically, he knew he could do this, “I’m sorry it took so long, I just wanted to make sure that I got here on the money that I earned, in the stupid horrible way that normal people do, and I really think that teaching children is a horrible job and I’m probably really insane right now and I don’t know where you are wanting this to go, but I have it on good advice from an errant seagull that you have probably moved on and can you tell me to leave or stay because I’m feeling really weird. Are you sleeping with that girl? Cause I would totally understand after two years, but I’m hoping that I didn’t move all the way to Paris for no reason other than to teach horrible children American History.”
Jared was still staring.
“I had a better speech,” Jensen said finally, rubbing the back of his neck, “I forgot it.”
“Are you…I mean…is this…I think that…” Jared mumbled out, not much better than Jensen’s magnificent speech.
Jensen took a step forward, “You not telling me to get out is good.”
Jared reached out one of his long arms and touched Jensen’s bottom lip, his expression dreamy for a moment. Then he jumped back as if shot.
“You’re here,” Jared said accusingly, not believing it until this moment.
Jensen put his hands on his hips, “I thought my impressive speech and you know…my presence gave that away.”
Jared took a step hesitantly forward and nodded slowly, “You did give a more impressive speech in my imagination.”
“Well you were shorter in mine,” Jensen responded, defaulting to glib.
Jared took a step closer, “You’re here.”
The voice was so little and so full of wonder and was just how Jensen remembered him being, that little boy who was just so in awe of Jensen that anything was enough, everything was okay.
And when Jared closed all the distance between them, then everything was more than okay.
Jared touched lightly and Jensen gave up fear and he gave up his masks. He threw himself at Jared, he didn’t know where he would land, but for the first time he took the jump without looking.
And their mouths were unready and sloppy. The angles were wrong and their hands wanted to grab everywhere at once. Nothing made a lick of sense, but they were tangled together, their bodies moving to find purchase, to feel enough to make this what they always knew it was.
Jared was tugging Jensen roughly to him, like Jensen was going to fly away; Jensen was trying to make his body cling to Jared.
Jared moved his mouth to suck at Jensen’s neck to taste, to remember. It had been too long and this wasn’t enough.
They were desperate, more desperate than they had ever been because if their last time had felt like a last time with lingering touches and needing forever, this one was need and heady because it was a dream that had walked into life.
Jared was reaching those long fingers through layers of clothing, needing to feel and touch something other than just clothes. He needed skin. Jensen shuddered in longing, it had been so very long since anyone had touched him like this and he was drowning in want. His hands were clumsy with need.
They tumbled to the floor, not noticing anything except for lips against skin, fingers against solid muscles and sinew.
Jared mouthed down Jensen’s collarbone, “You’re here.”
It was a prayer, a thank you.
They were out of clothes and wildly together moaning and rutting on the floor. The friction of their bodies together, the arching and the openness of the two of them just made everything that had always been an enigma make sense. Suddenly all was right with the world because they could be together, achingly hard cocks rubbing alongside, skin gliding against skin, just needing and grinding and reminding them that they were no longer alone.
It was all too much and in an embarrassingly short amount of time they both found a climax just from touching, body to body.
It wasn’t enough thought they had to touch more be more together. This was more than just the means to a goal; this was about more kisses and more caresses.
“Oh my holy fuck,” a voice rang out, “Jared Tristan Padalecki what the hell are you doing! What would Jensen think ?”
Jared stilled, burying himself in Jensen’s shoulder in embarrassment, knowing his full naked ass was out there for the owner of little shrill voice to see. The intruders couldn’t see Jensen yet, but Jensen had a good idea of who they were.
Jensen felt something bubble up in his chest, something so free he didn’t think that it belonged to him; it was something that Jared had breathed into him.
“Jensen would think that you have the worst timing,” Jensen said, his voice so light he barely recognized it.
“Jared,” the voice admonished.
Jensen looked up from behind Jared’s head, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Megan,” he admonished, “Seriously Jensen is pissed.”
His giggles and his smile delayed any fear of actual anger.
Jared tried to hide even more into Jensen’s neck as he was sprawled naked on the floor.
Megan and Chad wore similar looks of disbelief.
“You could avert your eyes like normal people,” Jensen admonished them primly.
“Is she staring at my ass?” Jared whispered and Jensen lost it. He had never let go like this before, laughing so hard against the warm, but heavy blanket of Jared.
The two of them left so quickly the door rattled.
It was too late for impropriety though because the two boys were unable to do anything but lay on their backs laughing, their hands interlaced.
Finally the weirdness of the situation got to them.
Here they lay naked on the floor. Finally Jared drew up on his side, head resting on his hand. His other hand traced over Jensen’s freckled skin. They were messy and naked and it was weird, but not awkward.
“What took you so long?” Jared asked quietly, “Was it me?”
“Kinda,” Jensen said, watching those long digits trace over his stomach - they belonged on his naked skin, “I just needed to come here with a resume that didn’t end with ‘brothel employee.’ I had to come here completely on my own merit.”
Jared smiled fondly at him, “I didn’t care.”
Jensen sat up a little and looked at him, “I did. I’m here as a tutor for the Albas. I’m here with money I made from not only a legitimate source but the money that got me here was from a hundred and fifty year old boys school and now I’m teaching for a family with roots to the American revolution. I’m very, very legitimate. I did all that so I could get here. I’m here if you want me, if you’ll have me.”
Jared grin grew, “I told you I would wait here for you. I’m not a liar.”
“Good,” Jensen said the word kind of small and insignificant for the glowing in his stomach and the ease he suddenly felt falling into Jared, like he was supposed to be there, welcomed like the long gone prince.
Jared splayed his hand over Jensen’s hip protectively, and sighed his confession.
“I’m a poor painter,” Jared said, “I’ve got no money, my survival comes from Chad’s benevolence and his trust fund, so I’m not even close to legitimate.”
Jensen raised an eyebrow, “So now I’m the less seedy of the two of us?”
Jared nodded solemnly.
“That doesn’t bode well for us,” Jensen replied.
Jared leant towards him, taking his mouth for all he was worth. He pulled away barely able to breathe, “Us?”
Jensen nuzzled into his neck, “I cannot cross that ocean again. I was so sick and the seagulls will laugh at me.”
That was filed away for later and Jared laughed, “Oh my, you’re making jokes now?”
The banter stopped as Mike bounded into the door followed by Tommy. They just looked at them, naked. After all they didn’t have anything they hadn’t seen before. Tommy lounged on the doorframe and Mike entered into their personal naked space.
He squinted at them and then turned to Tom, “You win, Jenny’s here.”
“Took you long enough,” Tom replied
Jared looked at Jensen, and sighed with knowledge as to where Chad and Megan had run to and what was coming next, “We better get dressed, Sophia will be here soon.”
Jensen groaned.
They got dressed. Family and friends entered into the studio and it was loud and clanging, welcoming Jensen. Jared just sat back, but one of his hands snaked into Jensen’s. Jensen looked up with surprise; this was a new sensation, just being in public holding hands. Daylight streamed through the window and Jared patiently stood there in all the light, in view of everyone, holding his hand.
Jensen closed his eyes
And then opened them.
Jared stood next to him bathed in sunlight, holding onto his hand, watching Jensen in adoration.
“I love you,” Jared said beneath the din.
The chaos around them, Jared next to him, location was nothing, this, for the first time in his life, was something that he could call home.
**
1937 ~ San Antonio, Texas
Mackenzie stepped out of the car and looked at the large house before her. This was unexpected. This was something totally out of her realm of expertise. She had grown up with these people but she had never been a guest in a house like this.
“Why am I doing this?” she muttered.
Megan linked arms with her; the girls had bonded over the car ride from Richardson, much to Chad’s chagrin. He was not looking forward to them getting together with Sophia.
“Because Jensen loves surprises,” Megan said.
Chad snorted, “Jensen hates surprises, but Jared loves them and Jared wanted to surprise Jensen.”
“And Jensen will love it because he loves anything Jared loves,” Mackenzie added.
“Eventually,” Chad included.
Mackenzie stopped, “Jensen isn’t going to want to see me?”
Chad laughed, “Too late now, here comes Jared.”
Mackenzie looked up and saw a tall man with long legs coming towards her. He was a few years older than her, but he held a youthful exuberance in his step.
He looked at her with an easy smile.
“Hello,” he said, taking his sister under his arm.
“So you’re the man who makes my brother happy?” Mackenzie said offering her hand.
Jared scrambled forward and hugged her to him, “Dear lord I hope so.”
“It’s disgusting,” Chad said, shaking dust from his hat.
“You’re also the painter?” Mackenzie asked, “Tristan Ever?”
Jared looked down at his feet, even after all these years it wasn’t used to the adoration that he widely received.
“You’re great,” she said shyly, trying to find a balance.
“My kids are all excellent,” Chad said with pride.
She looked at him curiously, “What does that mean.”
Megan rolled her eyes, “It means that he takes full responsibility for Jensen, Jared, and Sophia. He financed them and owns one fourth of their businesses.”
“You really do own one fourth of his ass,” Mackenzie said recalling his words from earlier.
Chad shrugged, “They worked, I just gave him money. Took ‘em long enough to atleast come somewhere near breaking even.”
“He’s a brilliant businessman,” Megan whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, it might ruin his reputation as a layabout.”
Mackenzie smiled and turned towards Jared, taking him in.
Jared took her hand and pulled her closer.
“Today is Jensen’s sixtieth birthday,” Jared told her, “We know that he thinks of you often, we just wanted you to see him, but you have to be okay with this.”
Jared waved his hand in front of himself.
Mackenzie arched an eyebrow, “With what?”
“With me,” Jared said standing protectively before her, if Chad and Megan were the first line of defense then Jared was the final gatekeeper, they would all protect Jensen. It made Mackenzie’s heart swell that her brother had such caring people in his life,.
Jared bit his lip, “With me being his…”
Mackenzie smiled. Any bigotry she had ever had had faded with the years. She was simply too old and had waited to long to find that kind of hatred for her blood. She had too little left to squander it in anger.
“I’m okay,” Mackenzie said, “I’m fine with you being his.”
And she didn’t say it, but Tristan Ever and Leigh Ross being together was like something she had dreamed into life. There was just something about the paintings and the stories that seemed to mesh.
Jared hugged her, “Welcome. Thank you.”
**
Jensen came out to see Jared engulfing a petite woman and his gait slowed and his smile fell. He slowed, the dogs milling around his feet, wondering what was going on, why he had lost his bounce.
Then Jared turned towards him; the intensity of that white smile was blinding and still warmed Jensen after all these years.
That was his smile. Jensen still found triumph that thirty years hadn’t diminished the fact that the moment Jensen walked in the room Jared could find him and he would be Jared’s whole world.
Even when Jared was hugging strange blonde women.
Jensen’s irrational feelings around Jared had never abated, much to his own chagrin. He would occasionally make some kind of wild assumption, which Jared would cackle at with glee and announce ‘Jensen’s caught the crazies again.’
It barely mattered that he knew Jared wasn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly miss women, but Jensen had worried about such things in the early years in a way that nearly ruined them. Jensen had seemed to be waiting the first ten years for Jared to leave him for wife and family.
Jared had stayed at times only to prove that he wouldn’t leave and prove Jensen’s fears to be genuine. Some days they would be at each other’s throats and Jared would be just too stubborn to leave even though Jensen was goading him into it.
And then Jared would remember that Jensen loved him more than anything else in the world and had never really been in a relationship before, he realized that Jensen was scared and didn’t know who to do this. So Jared would breathe in and be calm and patient.
Jensen would come and give needless apologies and they would work on their relationship, love was easy. Sometimes being together wasn’t.
But they both had stayed because the alternative was not acceptable.
It had worked. He had earned Jensen’s trust and Jensen had fought every fear and insecurity that he had to be with Jared.
Who was currently hugging a little blonde woman.
“Jensen,” Jared bellowed, grinning that anxious look-what-I-have grin, “I got you a present.”
Jensen stopped and looked at the woman who was just watching him, cataloguing him. Jensen felt like he was under some kind of scrutiny. He was a little more annoyed by this woman.
The fact that she was younger than them, but not by much, was able to bother Jensen further. Despite her age she was still pretty, with little green eyes and a pretty mouth.
“You got me a woman?” he said a little more harshly than he meant to, “How delightfully inappropriate.”
The woman stood up taller, her lips pressed in a line. She moved to pull away from Jared, but he kept his arm around her.
“Jensen, show some manners or you’ll feel really stupid in two seconds,” Jared said lightly, knowing Jensen far too well after all these years.
Jensen had learned to heed Jared’s random advice and smiled at the woman.
He tipped his hat, “Ma’am it’s a pleasure.”
She didn’t move.
“I suppose I got older since you last saw me,” she said stepping forward towards Jensen.
Jensen wracked his mind. He had met so many women in his early days. Jared would know the Everleigh girls, but there had been so many and so many years had passed he couldn’t place her. There was something familiar about those green eyes, the mouth, the splattering of freckles, he felt as if he should know her.
“Where did I know you girl?” he asked politely.
She snorted as the name barely fit her.
“The Blue Mesa,” she said coming in front of him.
Jensen’s heart stilled. The Blue Mesa was eons ago in another town in Texas. Blue Mesa was a little illicit house in Dallas that few remembered, but was the place of his earliest memories.
She bit her lip, “We grew up at the Blue Mesa. Last we met you built me a ranch.”
And that was enough of a description that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who this was.
His eyes went wide because he should have been able to place those features on his face. Those features were all over people’s walls in Jared’s paintings, they were in the mirror every time he looked. He was looking at a more delicate copy of his own face.
“The Double J?” Jensen said hoarsely, “Its still there?”
She nodded, “Been my home for thirty years.”
Jensen moved and grabbed her around the waist.
“Mac,” he whispered in her ear.
“Hi big brother,” she said, not wanting to cry. She had thought that she would never see him again when she had buried Joshua so long ago. Mackenzie had resigned herself to the fact that Jensen was gone.
Jensen couldn’t speak, didn’t want to.
“You named your ranch the Double J?” Jared asked curiously.
Mackenzie looked at him, “It was after an old pair of cufflinks Jensen had.”
Jared grinned goofily, “Really?”
Jensen for all his age and grace blushed.
Mackenzie looked between the two of them; she felt what everyone else had always known. That there was something undeniable between these two men.
She softened.
“It’s good to see you big brother,” she said softly, afraid to let him go.
**
The night went on and Jensen and Mackenzie caught up, stories of her marriage, her children, the death of Josh. They talked late into the night. Jared dozed by the fire and still Mackenzie and Jensen talked on.
Mackenzie couldn’t see the harsh lines of his face in the firelight. He looked soft and young.
“Why didn’t you ever send word?” she finally asked after she had gotten to know him well enough.
Jensen looked over at Jared.
“I didn’t know how you would react,” Jensen finally said simply, “I would have chosen him over you and I didn’t want to have to. I’m not hiding us. I’ve spent too long in the shadows, I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you, to have you hate me for loving him.”
Mackenzie looked at him hard, “You’re a foolish boy. I know what our family is. I know where we’ve been. It might have been awkward when I was younger, but you are still my brother. I didn’t hate Josh for being a criminal, I didn’t hate him for spending as much time in jail as he did in the free world. I would never hate you for this. Especially seeing the two of you together. It just fits.”
Jensen spread his hands, “I didn’t know.”
“I also was given a good education by my absent older brothers and I can read,” Mackenzie continued, “I’m pretty practical, but your books, the love of Leigh Ross, I get it.”
Jensen just looked at Jared.
“I just want you to be happy,” Mackenzie said, “You deserve to be happy.”
“You barely know me,” Jensen said softly.
Mackenzie shook her head, “You made my life so happy and safe when we were kids, we had no life to speak of, we were raised in the back room of a whore house. There was nothing that should be happy about it. You taught me about Christmas, you taught me about birthdays and when you had to go away you did everything you could to make me okay,” then she smiled at her brother, “You gave me a home to raise my children in.”
Jensen looked back at Jared.
“And you wrote my favorite books,” Mackenzie said, “You made me believe sometimes that maybe being with my husband was actually supposed to be real and happy and that love could exist. I didn’t believe in love, growing up the way we did. I didn’t even believe it much when I fell in love, but the way you wrote, it made me believe that these feelings could be enduring ones.”
Jensen just looked at her, because everything on those pages that were written had been a love song for Jared. They were his heart on paper, he had never thought about what those words could do to others.
Jensen reached out a hand and held hers, “Stay here for a little while and let me know you now.”
“You’re here for awhile?” Mackenzie asked.
Jensen nodded, “Jared’s brother died. This house is now Jared’s, as well as the crumbling but still prosperous Padalecki oil business. We’re here for awhile. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
Mackenzie smiled, “I’d like to stay Jensen, we’ve got some time to catch up on.”
Jensen just looked at Jared, Jared who had given him so much over the years, and now Jared had given him his past, nothing dark and tawdry, just this little woman who made him remember that life didn’t begin at Jared, that he didn’t have to forget everything before.
His past, his present, and his future sat in one room and they seemed to be playing nice.
**
Jensen woke Jared up and they stumbled to bed. Jared pulled him close, it was warm and familiar.
“So you’re rich now,” Jensen said.
“Filthy,” Jared replied.
“Gonna find you a nice boy to keep you company,” Jensen asked burrowing into Jared.
“Too old,” Jared said, nipping at Jensen’s neck, “I’m not going to break someone else in. ‘sides, I still like you ‘nough.”
“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Jensen said, part of him still fearful that someday Jared was going to leave him.
They just lay there together, like so many other nights. Like all the nights yet to come.
“Thank you,” Jared said quietly.
Jensen sat up and looked at him, “For what?”
“For coming to Paris,” Jared said simply, “For taking a chance, for sitting down at that table in the Everleigh Club.”
Jensen traced his arm, his feelings for Jared still as strong as ever.
He couldn’t figure out what to say.
“So where do you want to go?” Jared asked, “I’ve never been able to offer you anything. I can now offer you anywhere.”
“You my sugar daddy now?” Jensen asked lightly, any offense long gone.
“Nah,” Jared said, smoothing the sheets at Jensen’s hips, “I just have thirty years to repay you. Painting never brought in the money like your writing. I feel like I can finally pull my own weight and not be your kept boy.”
Jensen just smiled and touched his lips to Jared’s forehead, “It doesn’t matter. This is home. It doesn’t matter what is outside of our window, as long as this is here I’m home.”
And Jared pulled him back into his warmth.
Jensen closed his eyes and felt the familiar body below him. Jensen had been this man in the bed with him for so much longer than he had been the man all those years ago in that Club.
This was the man that he really was. He had fought to be that man, as much as Jared had fought to be the man beside him. They were the keys that unlocked each other from where the world had put them. They were divided alone and complete together.
They had traveled the hard road and ended up curled around each other.
It was more than they ever hoped to ask for.
“I love you,” Jensen said against Jared’s skin.
Jared’s thumb made lazy circles on Jensen.
“Everyday,” Jared replied, “I love you.”
Jared had found his adventure after all. Life was the greatest adventure.
THE END
A/N: I started this on July 4th. So whatever the math is that is what it took to get this epic thing up and going and over. It was so much fun. Jess thanks for beta (all horrible mistakes are mine because I keep adding and editing), Lisa thanks for your help. Cass thanks for the banner, it makes me happy that its been there for the WHOLE thing.
EVERYONE thanks for reading and commenting. I know that this isn’t going to be everyone’s thing, but I’m glad to whomever got this far because it took awhile to write and everything else, so I’m glad that you ended up here!
Just for the record it was supposed to end depressing. The first draft (which never made it into words) had Jensen and Jared never seeing each other again. The second draft (which my computer ate) had Jensen and Jared dying at forty. Then I realized life is hard enough, why break people’s hearts in little fantasy world. Hopefully it doesn’t come off as cheesy and the easy answer.
I’ve had requests for recs and translations, I totally forget who from. I asked that people wait until it was done. If you want to rec or translate let me know where it is going, give me credit and then feel free to pimp til your little heart is content.
Once again thank you for reading this.
*Sends LOVE!*