CW RPS: Take the Sky, For Example (A Canvas of a Billion Suns) (J2, R // 4/6)
Take the Sky, For Example (A Canvas of a Billion Suns)
Full header in MASTER POST.
part three
Jared raps a fist against the peeling paint on the bathroom door and whines, "Jensen, hurry up! I want my French toast!"
A few seconds pass before Jensen's voice floats out from behind the closed door. "Then make it yourself!"
Jared sighs, lets his head fall against the whitewashed wood. "You know that's not going to happen," he says with a put-upon sigh. They're well into their fourth month of cohabitation; Jensen should know by now that any time Jared puts something on the stove it ends in tears. He tells Jensen as much and gets a grunt in response, and then the door flies open. Steam rolls out in thick waves, almost completely concealing Jensen from view. Jared can only just make out his scowl, the towel wrapped around his waist, and the way his hair is plastered to his head from the shower. He looks dumb, so Jared laughs at him.
"Can't you at least hold on long enough for me to finish my damn shower?" Jensen grumps.
Jared thinks maybe he shouldn't pester pre-coffee Jensen more than necessary, but a glance back at the woefully bare kitchen table changes his mind. "C'mooon," he whines. "I have to be at rehearsal in an hour and I promised Alexis I would be way more on top of my lines! How am I supposed to practise with no food in my belly?"
"Shouldn't you know your lines by now?" Jensen's frown is gradually fading. "The show opens in a few weeks!"
Jared grins; he can tell by the look on Jensen's face that the battle is won. "Admit it-you can't say no to me!" he sing-songs as Jensen stomps out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. The only response he gets is the slight downward slump of Jensen's shoulders, telegraphing I know. Triumphant, Jared hops onto the kitchen counter and watches Jensen gather ingredients for their breakfast.
A minute or two goes by in comfortable silence, and then Jared scratches his chin and says, "Hey, Jen."
Jensen stops beating a trio of eggs into submission and glances up. There's something off in his expression and Jared guesses it's because of the nickname. Jared has been calling him Jen for a while now, but sometimes he gets weird about it. Jared wonders if this is one of those times.
"Yeah?" Jensen says, finally.
Apparently not. Jared smiles, relieved. "Would you mind running some lines with me?"
Jensen blinks a few times and looks back down at the eggs, says softly, "Okay." He's still only wearing a towel and Jared thinks he's probably beginning to feel awkward. Or cold. Probably cold, Jared decides, bending forwards to examine the goosebumps on Jensen's arms and shoulders. Jensen turns as Jared leans in and they nearly collide; luckily, Jensen jumps back just in time, the egg beater flying out of his hands. Not so luckily, it hits Jared in the face and he topples off the counter.
"Oh my god." Jensen drops to the ground beside him. His hands are everywhere, lighting on Jared's nose and forehead and cheeks. "Are you okay? I'm sorry- you, uh. You startled me."
Jared clutches his nose. "I noticed," he says thickly, pulling his hands away for inspection. His fingers shine wet and red and Jensen goes pale.
"Oh Jesus, you're disfigured!" he groans, looking far more panicked than the situation deserves.
Jared shuts him up by clapping a (non-bloody) hand over his mouth. "I'm fine, Jensen, lay off," he says, pushing off the tiles and standing back up. He grabs a tissue and mops at his bleeding nose. "I should've known that you'd be a total mother hen about stuff like this."
Jensen stands too, slower, looking wary. "I am not," he protests feebly. His towel is hanging loose around his waist like it's about to fall off and Jared shoos him back into the bathroom, saying, "Go. Get dressed. Forget the French toast. I'll get us some coffee."
Jensen does go, after a little more prodding. When he comes back out fifteen minutes later, looking dry and awake and pretty as ever, with perfectly gelled hair and those frayed jeans he wears as often as he can get away with, Jared is sitting on the couch with the play and two lattes from the Starbucks down the street. Jensen flops down beside him and Jared gets a strong whiff of his cologne.
"You smell nice," he says absently, searching for the scene that's giving him the most trouble. He finally finds it and glances up to see Jensen sort of frozen in the act of bringing his coffee to his lips; he's staring at Jared with huge green eyes. "Dude, what?"
Jensen snaps out of it, mumbles, "Nothing," and Jared lets it go. Sometimes Jensen is a bit of a weirdo; Jared has gotten used to it.
"Okay," Jared says, skimming the page before handing it over to Jensen. "We'll start at-you see where Theseus says, 'The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again'? We're gonna pick up right after that. Okay?" He leans back and clears his throat, tries to get into the right mindset for his character. After a moment, he opens his mouth and says, "No, in truth, sir, he should not. 'Deceiving me' is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes." The lines fall a little flat and Jared clears his throat, embarrassed.
Jensen doesn't seem to have noticed, too busy muttering something about playing the girl. He pitches his voice high and squeaks, "O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans-"
"Jensen! Do it properly, man."
Jensen laughs and rubs the back of his neck. "What's properly?" he asks, staring down at the play. When he starts up again, though, it's without the ridiculous voice and hand gestures. "O wall," he laments, "full often hast thou heard my moans for parting my fair Pyramus and me! My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones, thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee."
Jared was afraid Jensen might be shit at this, but he's actually pretty good. Really good, Jared admits, as Jensen loosens up a bit and actually starts to get into it. They rehearse all the way through Bottom's overacted departure from the play, and then Jared reaches over and claps Jensen hard on the shoulder. "You're awesome, man!" he says excitedly. "We should do this more often."
Jensen flushes, shrugs. "You're not so bad yourself," he mumbles.
"Thanks, man," Jared says, beaming. He hops off the couch and snatches up his car keys. "I gotta jet."
When he gets to the theatre, the entire troupe is outside. It's unusually chilly and half the cast is in short sleeves. Alexis, their psychotic director, is shouting through a megaphone. As Jared gets closer, he begins to hear snatches of what she's saying.
"Immerse yourself in the character… oh, and please try to walk without crashing into-" She spots Jared and a feral smile spreads over her freckled face. "Jared! How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. We're just doing a few warm-up exercises, so please join your castmates in the circle."
Nervous, Jared jogs forwards and falls into place beside Sandy. She smiles up at him, tiny and beautiful, perfectly cast in the role of Titania. "Is it just me, or is Alexis even more passive aggressive than usual?" he whispers to her, grinning, and she laughs, wide and white.
Jared still has her number. He thinks about her shyly asking him out at the end of the house-warming party-her small hand pressing a slip of paper into his, voice chiming like bells: "Are you doing anything Friday night?"-and he thinks about Adrianne, back home in San Francisco. They're good now, talking every day if they can-so different from the three weeks of silence after her visit, most of which Jared spent moping on the couch with a beer in hand, waiting for the call that wasn't coming.
"Jared! Sandy!" Alexis barks, and both jump. Jared realises he's been staring down at Sandy's face for a good thirty seconds, deep in thought. She's blushing a pretty pink. "Quit making goo-goo eyes at each other and pay attention!"
Sandy flushes darker and Jared laughs, wraps an arm around her shoulders. She's warm and comforting against him, and he turns back to Alexis and says with an exaggerated salute, "Yes, ma'am!"
-
Jared gets home at six o'clock, exhausted, and finds Jensen standing in the living room, arms crossed and foot tapping a grating rhythm against the floorboards. He had plans with Misha today and Jared is surprised to see him- at least until he spots the person sitting on his couch.
"I come up here to grab some spare brushes for Misha," Jensen says, arms pulling in tighter, "and what do I find sitting outside our door?"
Chad looks mournfully up at Jared from his seat on the sofa. On either side of him is a worn-out suitcase, both splitting at the seams. "Jay-rodddd," he says, squinty blue eyes swollen. "She kicked me out. I can't believe it. She dumped me."
Jared sits down. "Kenzie?"
Chad nods into his palms, and Jared sighs and rubs his back soothingly. This was bound to happen sometime: Kenzie is a real nice girl, small and blonde and all about appearances; Chad, on the other hand, enjoys getting drunk at two in the afternoon and isn't the most tactful guy-or the most faithful, for that matter. But Jared knows Chad won't appreciate hearing any of that, so he just says, "I'm really sorry, man," even though he's not, not really. Secretly he feels that Chad kind of deserved it. He thinks about how Chad pursued Sophia, months and months ago. "She say why?"
Chad shrugs, looks at the ground. "She said I cheated on her."
"You did cheat on her."
"Yeah, but only twice!" Chad stares up at Jared miserably. He's unshaven and looks like he might have not showered in a while, his eyes red-rimmed from drinking as well as tears. "I really love her, you know."
Jared sighs. "I know you do."
"You think she'll take me back?"
"I hope not," Jensen interrupts from a few feet away, voice like flint. He stares pointedly in the other direction when Jared tries to meet his eyes.
Knowing that Jensen has to be thinking of Chris, Jared puts a hand on Chad's shoulder to stop the fight before it begins. He moves too slow and Chad whirls on Jensen, rising to his feet. "Gee, thanks, pretty boy," he sneers, then turns back to Jared and snaps, "Jay, do you think you could keep your fag on a tighter leash?"
"Chad, c'mon-" Jared says, stumbling off the couch, but Jensen is already moving, taut with rage, striding forwards into Chad's space and shoving him with an intent that leads to flying fists. Chad goes down hard, falling as though a rug was pulled out from under him, spitting more insults as his arms cartwheel like something out of a cartoon. Jared catches him before he cracks his skull open on the coffee table.
"Jesus Christ," Chad says as he rights himself, looking for sympathy, but Jared ignores him and crosses the room to Jensen, who stands hunched by the door. Jared tracks the minute shaking of his shoulders and wonders if he nearly threw the punch he never threw at Chris.
When Jared reaches out to touch him, Jensen flinches away, curling even further in on himself. "Sorry, sorry," he says to the floor. "Shouldn't have done that. Overreacted."
Jared brackets Jensen's shoulders with one arm and knocks their heads together. "Yeah, you hothead," he says, trying to lighten the mood. Jensen's lips quirk half-heartedly upwards and Jared just feels worse. He leans in closer, drops his voice. "He doesn't mean anything by it. He's just upset. You know?"
Jensen sighs. "I do know," he says, "and that's why I shouldn't have let it get to me."
Jared suspects, knows that it's more than Chad's stupid mouth, but he doesn't press. "Why don't you go grab some coffee with Misha or something," he suggests. "I'll handle Chad."
Jensen nods, looking grateful, and throws a look over Jared's shoulder. Jared glances back too and finds Chad scowling, curled up amongst the sofa cushions. He's nearly hiding behind his huge bags, obviously sulking. Jensen's face twists and he says, "Sorry," before slipping out the door.
It's not shut more than a second before Chad whines, "Your roomie is an asshole."
"You're an asshole," Jared reminds him, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.
Chad pulls a face and flips Jared the bird. Then he quiets, shrinks into himself. "Look, sorry or whatever," he mumbles. "This wasn't the best start to this conversation."
"No," Jared agrees.
Chad shifts, stares down at his bags. Jared follows his gaze and realisation dawns. "Oh," he says. "Oh, Chad, dude-"
"Please?" Chad jumps up, clasps his hands together in front of him, gazes up at Jared with squinty eyes wide in supplication. "Please, Jay-man. It would just be for a few weeks."
Jared scrubs at his face with one hand. "You insult my roommate and then ask if you can crash here? Really?"
"My bad," Chad says, and he actually seems sorry, which is weird. Jared wonders, for a brief second, whether this could be a new start for Chad, if this dumping might actually improve his social skills, but then Chad opens his mouth and bitches, "But you know, if he hadn't run like a pussy, I mighta apologised."
Jared heaves a sigh. "I told him to leave," he says. "Didn't want a fistfight."
"I wouldn't have punched him!"
"He would've punched you."
Chad's shoulders slump. "What a psycho," he says. "So. Can I stay?"
Jared puts his head in his hands. He sucks at saying no, and he knows exactly what Chad will do if he doesn't say yes. He'll pull the best friend card, the I'd do this for you card, all the puppy-dog eyes in his arsenal. Jared is doomed. "This isn't going to be permanent, okay," he says finally, thinking, Jensen's gonna be pissed. "I'm giving you a month and if you haven't gotten your sorry ass out of here by then, I'm kicking you out."
The fine print doesn't appear to matter to Chad, who pumps his fist in the air and crows, "Score!"
-
Jensen is not pleased. He eyeballs Chad, sitting on the beanbag and looking nervous, and hisses, "Did it even cross your mind to talk to me about this before you okayed it?"
Jared frowns. "It did," he says calmly, adding enough oomph to let Jensen know he isn't going to back down no matter the amount of bitching. "Dude, I wouldn't be reacting like this if Sophia was having a rough time and you let her stay without asking."
"Yeah, because Sophia is a hot girl and you'd love having her around," Jensen argues. "Chad is a homophobic douchebag who apparently takes a lot of joy in insulting me. A month is a long time, Jared!"
Jared puts his hands on his hips and frowns a little more. Usually this is enough to make the fight go out of Jensen: the point at which his shoulders slump and Jared can laugh and call him a pushover and Jensen will laugh too, half-heartedly until he gets over it and starts laughing for real, contagious and unstoppable. Jared thinks Jensen has the best laugh.
Today, though, Jensen just continues to scowl. Jared tries another method.
"Please?"
That does the trick, and Jensen throws up his arms. "Fine!" he says. "Fine. But the chores are yours until he's gone. Deal?"
"You always did drive a hard bargain," Jared says, grinning. He claps Jensen on the back. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. Chad does too. Don't you, Chad?"
Slowly, Chad shuffles over to where Jensen stands with his arms folded across his chest, unimpressed, waiting for an overdue apology. Chad dicks around for a moment, scuffing the toe of his sneaker into the carpet and refusing to meet Jensen's eyes, before scratching at his scraggly beard and mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, man."
Jensen grunts, lips pursed as he gives Chad a long once-over. "Forgiven," he decides after a moment, turning away. Jared makes relieved eyes at his back.
"I really am quite an accepting guy," Chad insists, following Jensen to the fridge and peering over his shoulder in search, Jared guesses, of some alcohol. "I'm no homophobe, I swear. I'm really into that girl-on-girl shit."
Jensen's forehead makes a solid thunking noise as it connects with the refrigerator door and Jared takes Chad by the elbow, leading him away before he can do more damage. "Quit while you're ahead," he advises Chad dryly, tossing him down on the couch beside Sadie.
Chad nods obediently and buries himself in his luggage. "Sorry," he mutters, and Jared drops down beside him, wraps an arm around his shoulder. Jared thinks about the ups and downs of the early days of their friendship, long nights spent hunched over textbooks as Chad rambled on and on about his latest crazy scheme in the background, and knocks their foreheads together. He can help Chad through this.
-
"Jared, I got your text." Adrianne looks worried, a little annoyed, but still as beautiful as ever in the tiny window Skype has given her. She blinks at Jared and then leans up to adjust something about her computer. She doesn't love video-chatting like Jared does. It always seems to make her uncomfortable. "You know I like it when you call me before I go to bed. Not when I'm eating breakfast."
Jared shrugs, grins into the little camera fixed to Jensen's laptop. "But I have rehearsal all day, and afterwards I'm going out with Sandy, so I wouldn't be able to get home in time," he insists, same as in his text. Her expression shifts, eyebrows drawing in, mouth pursing, and Jensen shakes his head at Jared over his cereal. He's still adorably sleep-mussed, slouched at the dining table in his pyjama pants and nothing else because he doesn't have work today. Jared beams at him and it's a moment before Adrianne's voice filters through the fog in his brain.
"Jared. Jared!" He whirls back to the screen and finds her full-on frowning now. "Who're you smiling at?"
"Jensen!" he chirps, turning the computer so she can see him. Jensen makes a valiant effort to get out of view, flapping a hand in the air like don't!, but Jared ignores him. He spent a full week going over the couple charade with Adrianne until she understood that it was just that-a charade-and she has to be over it by now. It's been months.
She waves half-heartedly, waiting until Jared turns the laptop back around before clearing her throat and trying for a smile. "I thought you said you guys weren't dating. He's sitting naked at your dining table," she says, going for light, for joking, but it falls a little flat and Jared sees right through her.
"He's got pants on!" Jared says. On the couch, Chad snuffles and rolls over.
She huffs a laugh and busies herself with piling her long blonde hair on top of her head. "Yeah, okay," she mutters, like a sigh. She looks down at the desk in front of her and plays with a stray bobby pin, purposefully not meeting his eyes. Quieter, she says, "Jared, I'm really happy that you're making new friends and everything, but. It's just that you're spending an awful lot of time with this Sandy girl…"
Jared holds up both hands in supplication. "Babe, we're just friends," he says. "She's really great. I think you'd like her a lot."
Her face twists in a wry smile. "I don't think so," she says.
Jared wishes he could reach out and touch her, because he recognises the expression on her face-the look in her eyes and the single wrinkle on her forehead means she wants to say something; the thin downward curve of her mouth means she's not going to say it. His fingertips ghost over the screen and he sighs. She may only be a few hours away, but she could be halfway across the world for all the good it does him. "I've got to go," he says reluctantly, raking a hand through his hair. "I love you."
Adrianne nods sharply, half-turned away from the camera. "I love you too, Jared," she says, stretching forward to shut the video off. Her image goes dark without as much as a goodbye.
Jared leans back, sinking further into the comfort of his old beanbag, and stares at the ceiling. He thought they were okay, that they were working. Looks like he might have just been delusional.
"Long-distance relationships never work out, man," Chad informs him helpfully, a sleepy, eavesdropping, blanket-covered lump on the couch.
Jared keeps his eyes heavenward, like a plea, like if he says it often enough it'll turn out to be true, when he insists, "We're fine."
By the time rehearsal finishes draining every ounce of his energy, his optimism has begun to fade. Sandy treats him to a meal at a diner down the road from the theatre, her small hand warm in his and her smile bright under the glare of the streetlights overhead.
"You did great today, Jared," she tells him once they're seated, smoothing her skirt beneath her, tucking her dark hair behind one ear. She looks gorgeous, and Jared forces his eyes back on his menu. "Can you believe the first show is a week from tomorrow?"
Jared blanches, flats his hands against the table with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, if a nearby waiter's glare is anything to go by. "Is it really that soon?"
She grins, brown eyes crinkling up. "You're going to be great, you know."
Their waitress arrives before Jared can say, You're going to be better, and Sandy orders a meal to rival the size of his own, complete with all sorts of toppings and ridiculous little add-ons. Jared fucking loves a girl who isn't afraid to eat and can't keep the smile off his face. She notices that something's up quicker than he expected, and her cute face scrunches up as she sips delicately at her wine.
"You wanna tell me something, Padalecki?" she challenges.
Jared really does. "You're amazing," he says.
She lets out a breathless laugh and flaps a dismissive hand in the air. "You're not so bad yourself," she says. There's a blush rising in her cheeks and she stares down at her glass, clears her throat. "Anyway. How's your girlfriend?"
Jared isn't sure whether that means Remember that you have one or Is she still around? Either way, he begins to feel a little sheepish. "She's okay," he says finally, rubbing at the back of his neck. "We sort of argued earlier, I think."
The look in Sandy's eyes is all sympathy. "Oh, honey. What happened?" The words are barely out of her mouth before she rushes to add, "You don't have to tell me, of course. It's really none of my business. Jeez, Sandy." She huffs at herself, looking embarrassed.
He waves her discomfort away. "No, it's fine," he says. "It's just the long-distance thing. It's pretty hard. The last time she was around, we had this stupid fight. We, um."
He doesn't really want to talk about it and Sandy must see that, because she holds up a hand to stop him and says, "Hey, don't worry about it. How's Jensen doing?"
Jared brightens. "He's good," he says, smiling distractedly at the waitress as she drops off a basket of bread. He fiddles with his fork and thinks about Jensen, paint-splattered from the hem of his jeans to the tips of his hair, deeply engrossed in redoing the mural of his wall. When they first moved in, Jensen painted a simple landscape-the sun setting over a field of wheat-but this time around he's planned out a rainy cityscape. 'À la Caillebotte,' Jensen told him. Jared doesn't really know what that means. "He's got this class full of college freshmen that he says he hates, but he's told me they're really talented and I think he's secretly pretty fond of them. But that might be because I'm an optimist. Actually, they probably seriously piss him off."
Sandy chuckles and waits for him to go on in silence, quietly buttering a piece of bread with a small smile on her face.
"He's been spending a lot of time with Sophia lately, I think 'cause he wants to get out of the apartment. My friend Chad is staying with us and Jensen doesn't like him much." Jared laughs at himself, jokes, "I mean, he says it's because Sophia's going through a rough patch, but it's totally Chad."
Sandy nods, smiles, but doesn't answer his unspoken question.
"So, about that," Jared wheedles. It's been bugging him for weeks. Whenever Jensen isn't teaching or at home asleep, he's out with Sophia, no doubt having secret girl-talk somewhere. He's been babysitting Danneel's son a lot, too. Jared knows Jensen really likes kids, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Jensen is really at Danneel's to counsel her through some issue as well. Jensen's a good listener; Jared's not surprised they go to him with their problems. "You wouldn't happen to know what's wrong, would you?"
Sandy looks torn. She loves to gossip-Jared has overheard her discussing the dirty little secrets of half the cast with the girl playing Peaseblossom (Kristen Something-with-a-B, if Jared's memory serves). Something is obviously keeping Sandy's mouth shut now, though. Jared is about to give up hope when she blurts out, "Sophia is gay."
Jared blinks. "Huh?"
Sandy sighs guiltily. "I suck," she mutters under her breath. Louder, she says, "She only found out recently. I think it came as a bit of a shock. Jensen's helping her through it. He's a good guy."
"He is," Jared agrees absently, still trying to wrap his mind around this new piece of information. "Wait. So she's really-?"
Sandy nods. "She said she began to figure it out around the time she was seeing your friend Chad."
Jared whoops with laughter, so loud that the couple at the adjacent table turn around to see what happened. He claps his hands over his mouth to try and muffle the noise, but it's no use. "Oh man, that's hilarious," he says when he finally wrestles his composure back. "Chad is going to love that. He turned her gay. That's awesome."
Sandy snorts, shakes her head, and leans in conspiratorially. "It wasn't him. See, Soph's got this huge crush on this girl named… Danneel, I think. Oh, do you know her?"
Jared picks his jaw off the tabletop. "She's one of Jensen's friends," he explains. Allowing himself a Chad-like moment, he sits back to think about the pair they would make. "Damn. That's hot."
Sandy rolls her eyes and swats his arm. "Pig!"
-
A Midsummer Night's Dream opens on a rainy Thursday. Adrianne says she can't afford to miss work, but Chad takes a break from pathetically bombarding Kenzie's voicemail with messages slurred to incomprehension and Jensen e-mails his students to let them know that class will happen another night. Misha gets dragged along too, after Jensen does something weird like buy his ticket for him. Jared doesn't have time to grill Jensen about it, but he writes it on the palm of his hand so there's no way he'll forget. Alexis makes him wash it off ten minutes before the show starts, and Jared remembers why he's there.
"Oh holy shit," he tells her, wide-eyed. "This is really happening."
She rolls her eyes at him. "Yeah, genius," she says. "What did you think you've been rehearsing for, shits and giggles?"
Not even her scowl can bring Jared down, and he rocks it. He knows he does, can hear himself hitting every line out of the park, delighting in the audience's laughter. What makes him sure, though, is the way Jensen smiles at him when he tumbles out of the stage door afterwards and Jensen is there at the front of the crowd, beaming with his green eyes all crinkled up so his laugh lines are extra prominent. Those are Jensen's best smiles and Jared is hugging him before he even realises that he moved.
It takes Jensen a second to respond, but then he's wrapping his arms around Jared just as tight. "You were awesome, man," he says when they pull apart, finally. He's still grinning. "Awesome," he repeats, quieter, squeezing Jared's shoulder as he lets go.
Misha steps up to congratulate him next, standing a little closer to Jensen than necessary. He's got sixteen amulets around his neck and a hand casual on Jensen's arm when he tells Jared, "Great performance," and Jared smiles and thanks him, thinking that he doesn't like Misha very much.
He can't think why, though, and Chad is there to distract him.
"That was ballin'," he decrees, reaching up to mess with Jared's hair. "Man, I have no fucking idea what you were saying, but it sure sounded cool."
Chad's (slightly drunken) approval is a nice change from the past two weeks, during which Chad was either moping around, drinking Jared's beer, or calling Kenzie, and it makes Jared feel like a shitty friend. "Tomorrow, you and me," he says, slinging an arm around Chad as the four of them make their way home, "we're gonna sit on my bed and play violent video games all day."
He's true to his word. Chad wakes up the next morning hungover, cranky, and with absolutely no recollection of bruising his shins to hell and back by tripping over a fire hydrant. Jared lugs the TV into his room, then feeds Chad an extra greasy breakfast and turns on Halo. It almost feels like they could be back at the dorm, in the days before Jared dropped out and Chad followed suit.
Jared shakes his head, tries to clear those thoughts from his head. The big difference is he's happier here than he ever was at school.
"All right, you shithead," Chad groans, crawling out from under Jared's duvet to grapple for a controller. "Let's kick some ass."
They lounge on the bed for hours, cursing and shouting and goofing around, door locked despite the empty apartment. Jared's brain is so video game-fogged that he can't really remember what the note that Jensen left said, aside from something about teaching and lunch with Misha. The idea makes him feel weird, like there's a rock sitting in his stomach, weighing him down. He thinks about it too much, rolling it around in his head like that'll help him decipher what his problem is, and ends up missing an easy shot. It's game over and Jared blinks at the screen dully.
"Jay-bird!" Chad exclaims, horrified. He throws his controller at the floor. "You fucking suck at this."
"Not so," Jared says, too distracted to pull off mock-offended very well. He reaches forward to start it up again, but then he hears the front door open and shut over the sound of Chad's complaining. Without thinking, Jared scrambles across his bed on his knees and cracks his door open. Chad gives him a weird look and sidles over to see what the big deal is. It's only when Chad whispers, "What're we doing? Spying?" with his bony chin poking into Jared's shoulder that Jared realises he has no idea what he's expecting.
He's pretty sure it wasn't this, though: Jensen's home, and he's not alone. He's standing in the kitchen with Misha, smiling and relaxed, sipping absently at a cup of coffee. Misha has his back to Jared, and they're talking in hushed tones. Jared didn't know what he was doing before, but now he wants to hear the conversation. He shoves Chad's heavy-breathing mouth away from his ear just as Misha says, "So you haven't told Jared yet?"
Chad shoots Jared a confused look, what?, but Jared just shrugs and watches as Jensen shakes his head no and Misha laughs. "Let me guess," he says, and even turned away Jared can tell that he's grinning. "You're ashamed of me."
Jensen flushes, smiles. He puts the coffee down. "That's not it."
"Duh," Misha says. "I mean, I'm awesome."
Jensen laughs and ducks his head. The pink across his cheekbones darkens when Misha puts his hands on Jensen's hips, slowing walking him backwards until Jensen bumps into the counter with a soft oh noise. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time," Misha says, and Jared realises too late what he's about to do.
Jared shuts his eyes, tries desperately to make sense of the emotions rattling around his ribcage. When he opens them again, Misha has a hand on Jensen's jaw, and they're kissing. Jensen is leaning down into the kiss, his fingers wreaking havoc with Misha's ridiculous hair. It's an extremely intimate, private moment, and Jared sort of feels like a popped balloon. He can't stop staring.
Then Chad goes, "Fucking Christ," loud enough to alert the whole of Los Angeles to their whereabouts.
Jensen freezes, clutching at Misha's arms as if trying to push him off. His eyes are wide open and bottle-green, and he's looking right at where Jared and Chad are crouched. Misha steps back with a sigh. "Guess he knows now," he tells Jensen, then turns around and gives his eavesdroppers a little wave.
"I'll, um," Jensen says.
Misha just says, "Yeah," and grabs his coat. He twists back around in the doorway, shoots Jensen a little smile, and says, "See you downstairs?" When Jensen nods, he turns his blue gaze on Jared and Chad. There is something like sadness in his eyes and Jared, heart still jackrabbiting in his chest, doesn't understand at all. Then the door shuts behind him and Jensen pushes himself off of the counter, smoothes down his pants, distractedly wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. His ears are bright red.
"Uh," he says, finally. "I was going to tell you."
Chad wordlessly shoves Jared out into the living room, then securely shuts the door. Jared knows he should be grateful that Chad's social graces have kicked in for once, but he has no idea what to say and the clock is ticking. He struggles to come up with something appropriate, wishing Chad was there to crack bad jokes and say offensive shit to lighten the mood.
Jensen clears his throat. "Are you mad?" he asks.
"No," Jared says. He's not. He doesn't know what he is. "Just… surprised, I guess."
Jensen scrapes a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well. You were pushing so hard for it."
Jared remembers that. Just keep it on the DL, okay? I know how much you like him. What's that? You're going to do Misha? Is it Misha? You really like him, huh. It seems like a million years ago now. His mouth feels dry as dust. "Well," he says, stretching, half-turned back towards his room. "Gotta go. I was in the middle of, uh. Halo."
Jensen gives a jerky nod and backs towards the door, mumbling, "I'll be downstairs if you need me."
Jared watches him go with his hand on the doorknob, half-deafened by the sounds of Halo starting up again, and his eyes fixed on the back of Jensen's head.
The next day, it all goes wrong.
-
The sun is setting over Los Angeles and Jared is staring out the window at the rows upon rows of buildings extending into the distance, calendar mostly forgotten in his lap. "It's been November for nearly a week," he told Jensen earlier, still stepping a little lightly around him with the weirdness left over from yesterday, "and no one bothered to flip the page." Jensen smiled and fished a red sharpie from its hidden spot in the bookshelves; now, just like he did with October, Jared takes that sharpie and scribbles on a few important dates. He marks the eighteenth with Midsummer's last show!! and the thirtieth simply reads, TURKEY DAY!
Jensen loves Thanksgiving, Jared learned that morning. He waxed lyrical for twenty minutes about visiting his brother in Santa Cruz and seeing some far-flung friend from his college days. Jared was bored to tears by the entire conversation, but Jensen looked so excited about all of it that there was no way Jared would've stopped him in a million years.
Thinking back on it makes Jared smile, and he's still smiling when he picks up the phone. He expects it to be Jensen on his way home from his (stupid pointless annoying) date with Misha, double-checking that Jared wants Chinese food for dinner, but the voice that greets him is all wrong.
"Hey, baby," Adrianne says.
Jared sits heavily on the couch, says on his exhale, "Hey."
Snuggled up on the beanbag, Chad takes a break from working hard at winning Kenzie back through the use of chatspeak-clogged text messages and looks up from his phone, eyebrows raised. 'Something wrong?' he mouths.
Jared shakes his head. "What's up?" he asks Adrianne.
"Well, um," she says, sounding a bit nervous. "Jared, you and I- we're not idiots; we both know we haven't been… doing so great lately."
His heart skips a beat. The Talk, he thinks.
She lets out a rather breathless laugh in his ear. "So I was thinking that we could go to my parents' for Thanksgiving," she continues, in a rush. "Make a tradition out of it. A new start."
"To Toledo?" he says numbly. It's not what he expected at all.
"Yeah," she says. "I know it's a hell of a trip, but I've been working overtime to pay for it. That's why I couldn't come to your show, honey. You know Hamlet is one of my favourite plays."
Jared picks at a loose seam in his shirt. "It's A Midsummer Night's Dream," he says, whisper-quiet. "Not Hamlet."
There's a long pause and then Adrianne sighs, a loud puff of breath in his ear. "You're… not coming to Toledo, are you."
He stares at the floor. For the first time, he notices that the cream-coloured carpet is stained brown in places and pretty fucking hideous. He sucks in a shuddering breath and scrunches his eyes closed. "We're over, aren't we?"
"I think so," she whispers. She sounds like she might be crying. "Oh god, Jared."
Definitely crying. He can't even fucking hug her or anything. Jared maps his face with one hand, palm scraping over stubble, and lurches to his feet, stumbling blindly in the direction of his room. Chad calls out after him and gets no response. Jared doesn't trust his voice right now. He needs to pull himself together.
"I'm so sorry," he says finally, even though he's not quite sure what he's apologising for. Slumping against the door, he waits for her to speak.
She doesn't, just hiccups and stifles tiny sobs in his ear. He half-wishes she would scream at him instead; at least that way he could pretend that it's anger eating up his insides and not this horrible, biting sadness that he feels down into the marrow of his bones.
They exchange half-hearted I love yous before a tearful goodbye. By the time the dial tone is thrumming shrilly in his ear, Jared is folded nearly in half, breathing slowly into the vee of his open legs and trying to understand when, why, how two and a half years of happiness went so wrong.
Someone knocks on his door.
"Go away, Chad," he says.
"Jared? Can I come in?"
It's not Chad. Jared didn't even know Jensen was home. Unable to deny him, Jared rolls himself out of the way of the door and cracks it open. Jensen is crouched close on the other side, eyes wide and skin a shade paler than normal. It makes his freckles stand out even more. At this distance, Jared can pick out each and every one. He pulls back before he starts trying to count them and flops down on his duvet, avoiding Jensen's eyes. "Hey, Jen."
Jensen closes the door behind him and silently makes a space for himself on the bed. He sits a fraction too close, hand rubbing gently over Jared's jean-clad knee. "Chad told me you got a call and locked yourself in here," he says, staring at his fingers against the denim. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Jared means to say no, but what comes out is, "Adrianne and I are over."
The hand on his leg freezes, flexes once, and then it wraps around his shoulder instead, pulling him close to Jensen for a tight hug. Jared allows it, needs it, so he presses his face into Jensen's neck and focuses on keeping himself from shaking apart.
"Ah, shit," he mumbles when it starts to feel like it's gone on too long, voice mostly muffled by Jensen's collar. "I'm getting snot all over your shirt, dude."
"Then I'll wash it," Jensen replies. His hold tightens. "You're the one who's always telling me to hug it out. C'mon, man."
Jared disentangles himself anyway, wiping at his nose with his sleeve and dragging a hand across his eyes. "Thanks," he says on a ragged exhale, staring at Jensen's brightly coloured shoes. He knows from experience that he looks like a burst sausage when he cries, and right now his eyes are swollen and hurt like fucking hell, so he must be an absolute mess. He takes a tissue from the bedside table and attempts to cover most of his face with it.
Jensen's lips quirk upwards at that, but it's a sad sort of smile. His hand slides from its place on Jared's back to rest, tenderly, against Jared's pulse-point. The touch is gone as quickly as it came, but Jared feels bereft without it. For minutes afterward, the place where Jensen's fingers were burns hot, leaving the rest of him oddly chilled.
"I'm really sorry, man," Jensen says finally. Both of his hands are now knotted tightly in his lap. "Who, um. Who ended it?"
Jared shrugs. "Both of us," he decides after a moment. "I think- it just. It wasn't working out." That sounds almost as bad as it's not me, it's you, but the worst part is that it's the truth. He shakes his head, lets out a dry laugh. "She asked me to spend Thanksgiving with her family in Ohio. I… didn't want to."
I wanted to stay here instead. With you, Jared thinks, suddenly. The thought surprises him. The shock shifts to embarrassment within moments, and he clamps down on his tongue before he does something unforgivably girly like say it out loud.
Jensen stares down at his hands. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be," he says hesitantly. His posture tells Jared, Shut me up now.
"I guess not," Jared says, choked. Without thinking, he reaches out and takes Jensen's hand in his, trying to find a way to say thank you without actually having to talk. His throat has closed up again.
Jensen, beautiful, wonderful, awesome Jensen, allows the hand-holding and they sit in silence until the last ray of sunlight has disappeared from the city outside Jared's window.
part five
Full header in MASTER POST.
part three
Jared raps a fist against the peeling paint on the bathroom door and whines, "Jensen, hurry up! I want my French toast!"
A few seconds pass before Jensen's voice floats out from behind the closed door. "Then make it yourself!"
Jared sighs, lets his head fall against the whitewashed wood. "You know that's not going to happen," he says with a put-upon sigh. They're well into their fourth month of cohabitation; Jensen should know by now that any time Jared puts something on the stove it ends in tears. He tells Jensen as much and gets a grunt in response, and then the door flies open. Steam rolls out in thick waves, almost completely concealing Jensen from view. Jared can only just make out his scowl, the towel wrapped around his waist, and the way his hair is plastered to his head from the shower. He looks dumb, so Jared laughs at him.
"Can't you at least hold on long enough for me to finish my damn shower?" Jensen grumps.
Jared thinks maybe he shouldn't pester pre-coffee Jensen more than necessary, but a glance back at the woefully bare kitchen table changes his mind. "C'mooon," he whines. "I have to be at rehearsal in an hour and I promised Alexis I would be way more on top of my lines! How am I supposed to practise with no food in my belly?"
"Shouldn't you know your lines by now?" Jensen's frown is gradually fading. "The show opens in a few weeks!"
Jared grins; he can tell by the look on Jensen's face that the battle is won. "Admit it-you can't say no to me!" he sing-songs as Jensen stomps out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. The only response he gets is the slight downward slump of Jensen's shoulders, telegraphing I know. Triumphant, Jared hops onto the kitchen counter and watches Jensen gather ingredients for their breakfast.
A minute or two goes by in comfortable silence, and then Jared scratches his chin and says, "Hey, Jen."
Jensen stops beating a trio of eggs into submission and glances up. There's something off in his expression and Jared guesses it's because of the nickname. Jared has been calling him Jen for a while now, but sometimes he gets weird about it. Jared wonders if this is one of those times.
"Yeah?" Jensen says, finally.
Apparently not. Jared smiles, relieved. "Would you mind running some lines with me?"
Jensen blinks a few times and looks back down at the eggs, says softly, "Okay." He's still only wearing a towel and Jared thinks he's probably beginning to feel awkward. Or cold. Probably cold, Jared decides, bending forwards to examine the goosebumps on Jensen's arms and shoulders. Jensen turns as Jared leans in and they nearly collide; luckily, Jensen jumps back just in time, the egg beater flying out of his hands. Not so luckily, it hits Jared in the face and he topples off the counter.
"Oh my god." Jensen drops to the ground beside him. His hands are everywhere, lighting on Jared's nose and forehead and cheeks. "Are you okay? I'm sorry- you, uh. You startled me."
Jared clutches his nose. "I noticed," he says thickly, pulling his hands away for inspection. His fingers shine wet and red and Jensen goes pale.
"Oh Jesus, you're disfigured!" he groans, looking far more panicked than the situation deserves.
Jared shuts him up by clapping a (non-bloody) hand over his mouth. "I'm fine, Jensen, lay off," he says, pushing off the tiles and standing back up. He grabs a tissue and mops at his bleeding nose. "I should've known that you'd be a total mother hen about stuff like this."
Jensen stands too, slower, looking wary. "I am not," he protests feebly. His towel is hanging loose around his waist like it's about to fall off and Jared shoos him back into the bathroom, saying, "Go. Get dressed. Forget the French toast. I'll get us some coffee."
Jensen does go, after a little more prodding. When he comes back out fifteen minutes later, looking dry and awake and pretty as ever, with perfectly gelled hair and those frayed jeans he wears as often as he can get away with, Jared is sitting on the couch with the play and two lattes from the Starbucks down the street. Jensen flops down beside him and Jared gets a strong whiff of his cologne.
"You smell nice," he says absently, searching for the scene that's giving him the most trouble. He finally finds it and glances up to see Jensen sort of frozen in the act of bringing his coffee to his lips; he's staring at Jared with huge green eyes. "Dude, what?"
Jensen snaps out of it, mumbles, "Nothing," and Jared lets it go. Sometimes Jensen is a bit of a weirdo; Jared has gotten used to it.
"Okay," Jared says, skimming the page before handing it over to Jensen. "We'll start at-you see where Theseus says, 'The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again'? We're gonna pick up right after that. Okay?" He leans back and clears his throat, tries to get into the right mindset for his character. After a moment, he opens his mouth and says, "No, in truth, sir, he should not. 'Deceiving me' is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes." The lines fall a little flat and Jared clears his throat, embarrassed.
Jensen doesn't seem to have noticed, too busy muttering something about playing the girl. He pitches his voice high and squeaks, "O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans-"
"Jensen! Do it properly, man."
Jensen laughs and rubs the back of his neck. "What's properly?" he asks, staring down at the play. When he starts up again, though, it's without the ridiculous voice and hand gestures. "O wall," he laments, "full often hast thou heard my moans for parting my fair Pyramus and me! My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones, thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee."
Jared was afraid Jensen might be shit at this, but he's actually pretty good. Really good, Jared admits, as Jensen loosens up a bit and actually starts to get into it. They rehearse all the way through Bottom's overacted departure from the play, and then Jared reaches over and claps Jensen hard on the shoulder. "You're awesome, man!" he says excitedly. "We should do this more often."
Jensen flushes, shrugs. "You're not so bad yourself," he mumbles.
"Thanks, man," Jared says, beaming. He hops off the couch and snatches up his car keys. "I gotta jet."
When he gets to the theatre, the entire troupe is outside. It's unusually chilly and half the cast is in short sleeves. Alexis, their psychotic director, is shouting through a megaphone. As Jared gets closer, he begins to hear snatches of what she's saying.
"Immerse yourself in the character… oh, and please try to walk without crashing into-" She spots Jared and a feral smile spreads over her freckled face. "Jared! How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. We're just doing a few warm-up exercises, so please join your castmates in the circle."
Nervous, Jared jogs forwards and falls into place beside Sandy. She smiles up at him, tiny and beautiful, perfectly cast in the role of Titania. "Is it just me, or is Alexis even more passive aggressive than usual?" he whispers to her, grinning, and she laughs, wide and white.
Jared still has her number. He thinks about her shyly asking him out at the end of the house-warming party-her small hand pressing a slip of paper into his, voice chiming like bells: "Are you doing anything Friday night?"-and he thinks about Adrianne, back home in San Francisco. They're good now, talking every day if they can-so different from the three weeks of silence after her visit, most of which Jared spent moping on the couch with a beer in hand, waiting for the call that wasn't coming.
"Jared! Sandy!" Alexis barks, and both jump. Jared realises he's been staring down at Sandy's face for a good thirty seconds, deep in thought. She's blushing a pretty pink. "Quit making goo-goo eyes at each other and pay attention!"
Sandy flushes darker and Jared laughs, wraps an arm around her shoulders. She's warm and comforting against him, and he turns back to Alexis and says with an exaggerated salute, "Yes, ma'am!"
-
Jared gets home at six o'clock, exhausted, and finds Jensen standing in the living room, arms crossed and foot tapping a grating rhythm against the floorboards. He had plans with Misha today and Jared is surprised to see him- at least until he spots the person sitting on his couch.
"I come up here to grab some spare brushes for Misha," Jensen says, arms pulling in tighter, "and what do I find sitting outside our door?"
Chad looks mournfully up at Jared from his seat on the sofa. On either side of him is a worn-out suitcase, both splitting at the seams. "Jay-rodddd," he says, squinty blue eyes swollen. "She kicked me out. I can't believe it. She dumped me."
Jared sits down. "Kenzie?"
Chad nods into his palms, and Jared sighs and rubs his back soothingly. This was bound to happen sometime: Kenzie is a real nice girl, small and blonde and all about appearances; Chad, on the other hand, enjoys getting drunk at two in the afternoon and isn't the most tactful guy-or the most faithful, for that matter. But Jared knows Chad won't appreciate hearing any of that, so he just says, "I'm really sorry, man," even though he's not, not really. Secretly he feels that Chad kind of deserved it. He thinks about how Chad pursued Sophia, months and months ago. "She say why?"
Chad shrugs, looks at the ground. "She said I cheated on her."
"You did cheat on her."
"Yeah, but only twice!" Chad stares up at Jared miserably. He's unshaven and looks like he might have not showered in a while, his eyes red-rimmed from drinking as well as tears. "I really love her, you know."
Jared sighs. "I know you do."
"You think she'll take me back?"
"I hope not," Jensen interrupts from a few feet away, voice like flint. He stares pointedly in the other direction when Jared tries to meet his eyes.
Knowing that Jensen has to be thinking of Chris, Jared puts a hand on Chad's shoulder to stop the fight before it begins. He moves too slow and Chad whirls on Jensen, rising to his feet. "Gee, thanks, pretty boy," he sneers, then turns back to Jared and snaps, "Jay, do you think you could keep your fag on a tighter leash?"
"Chad, c'mon-" Jared says, stumbling off the couch, but Jensen is already moving, taut with rage, striding forwards into Chad's space and shoving him with an intent that leads to flying fists. Chad goes down hard, falling as though a rug was pulled out from under him, spitting more insults as his arms cartwheel like something out of a cartoon. Jared catches him before he cracks his skull open on the coffee table.
"Jesus Christ," Chad says as he rights himself, looking for sympathy, but Jared ignores him and crosses the room to Jensen, who stands hunched by the door. Jared tracks the minute shaking of his shoulders and wonders if he nearly threw the punch he never threw at Chris.
When Jared reaches out to touch him, Jensen flinches away, curling even further in on himself. "Sorry, sorry," he says to the floor. "Shouldn't have done that. Overreacted."
Jared brackets Jensen's shoulders with one arm and knocks their heads together. "Yeah, you hothead," he says, trying to lighten the mood. Jensen's lips quirk half-heartedly upwards and Jared just feels worse. He leans in closer, drops his voice. "He doesn't mean anything by it. He's just upset. You know?"
Jensen sighs. "I do know," he says, "and that's why I shouldn't have let it get to me."
Jared suspects, knows that it's more than Chad's stupid mouth, but he doesn't press. "Why don't you go grab some coffee with Misha or something," he suggests. "I'll handle Chad."
Jensen nods, looking grateful, and throws a look over Jared's shoulder. Jared glances back too and finds Chad scowling, curled up amongst the sofa cushions. He's nearly hiding behind his huge bags, obviously sulking. Jensen's face twists and he says, "Sorry," before slipping out the door.
It's not shut more than a second before Chad whines, "Your roomie is an asshole."
"You're an asshole," Jared reminds him, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.
Chad pulls a face and flips Jared the bird. Then he quiets, shrinks into himself. "Look, sorry or whatever," he mumbles. "This wasn't the best start to this conversation."
"No," Jared agrees.
Chad shifts, stares down at his bags. Jared follows his gaze and realisation dawns. "Oh," he says. "Oh, Chad, dude-"
"Please?" Chad jumps up, clasps his hands together in front of him, gazes up at Jared with squinty eyes wide in supplication. "Please, Jay-man. It would just be for a few weeks."
Jared scrubs at his face with one hand. "You insult my roommate and then ask if you can crash here? Really?"
"My bad," Chad says, and he actually seems sorry, which is weird. Jared wonders, for a brief second, whether this could be a new start for Chad, if this dumping might actually improve his social skills, but then Chad opens his mouth and bitches, "But you know, if he hadn't run like a pussy, I mighta apologised."
Jared heaves a sigh. "I told him to leave," he says. "Didn't want a fistfight."
"I wouldn't have punched him!"
"He would've punched you."
Chad's shoulders slump. "What a psycho," he says. "So. Can I stay?"
Jared puts his head in his hands. He sucks at saying no, and he knows exactly what Chad will do if he doesn't say yes. He'll pull the best friend card, the I'd do this for you card, all the puppy-dog eyes in his arsenal. Jared is doomed. "This isn't going to be permanent, okay," he says finally, thinking, Jensen's gonna be pissed. "I'm giving you a month and if you haven't gotten your sorry ass out of here by then, I'm kicking you out."
The fine print doesn't appear to matter to Chad, who pumps his fist in the air and crows, "Score!"
-
Jensen is not pleased. He eyeballs Chad, sitting on the beanbag and looking nervous, and hisses, "Did it even cross your mind to talk to me about this before you okayed it?"
Jared frowns. "It did," he says calmly, adding enough oomph to let Jensen know he isn't going to back down no matter the amount of bitching. "Dude, I wouldn't be reacting like this if Sophia was having a rough time and you let her stay without asking."
"Yeah, because Sophia is a hot girl and you'd love having her around," Jensen argues. "Chad is a homophobic douchebag who apparently takes a lot of joy in insulting me. A month is a long time, Jared!"
Jared puts his hands on his hips and frowns a little more. Usually this is enough to make the fight go out of Jensen: the point at which his shoulders slump and Jared can laugh and call him a pushover and Jensen will laugh too, half-heartedly until he gets over it and starts laughing for real, contagious and unstoppable. Jared thinks Jensen has the best laugh.
Today, though, Jensen just continues to scowl. Jared tries another method.
"Please?"
That does the trick, and Jensen throws up his arms. "Fine!" he says. "Fine. But the chores are yours until he's gone. Deal?"
"You always did drive a hard bargain," Jared says, grinning. He claps Jensen on the back. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. Chad does too. Don't you, Chad?"
Slowly, Chad shuffles over to where Jensen stands with his arms folded across his chest, unimpressed, waiting for an overdue apology. Chad dicks around for a moment, scuffing the toe of his sneaker into the carpet and refusing to meet Jensen's eyes, before scratching at his scraggly beard and mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, man."
Jensen grunts, lips pursed as he gives Chad a long once-over. "Forgiven," he decides after a moment, turning away. Jared makes relieved eyes at his back.
"I really am quite an accepting guy," Chad insists, following Jensen to the fridge and peering over his shoulder in search, Jared guesses, of some alcohol. "I'm no homophobe, I swear. I'm really into that girl-on-girl shit."
Jensen's forehead makes a solid thunking noise as it connects with the refrigerator door and Jared takes Chad by the elbow, leading him away before he can do more damage. "Quit while you're ahead," he advises Chad dryly, tossing him down on the couch beside Sadie.
Chad nods obediently and buries himself in his luggage. "Sorry," he mutters, and Jared drops down beside him, wraps an arm around his shoulder. Jared thinks about the ups and downs of the early days of their friendship, long nights spent hunched over textbooks as Chad rambled on and on about his latest crazy scheme in the background, and knocks their foreheads together. He can help Chad through this.
-
"Jared, I got your text." Adrianne looks worried, a little annoyed, but still as beautiful as ever in the tiny window Skype has given her. She blinks at Jared and then leans up to adjust something about her computer. She doesn't love video-chatting like Jared does. It always seems to make her uncomfortable. "You know I like it when you call me before I go to bed. Not when I'm eating breakfast."
Jared shrugs, grins into the little camera fixed to Jensen's laptop. "But I have rehearsal all day, and afterwards I'm going out with Sandy, so I wouldn't be able to get home in time," he insists, same as in his text. Her expression shifts, eyebrows drawing in, mouth pursing, and Jensen shakes his head at Jared over his cereal. He's still adorably sleep-mussed, slouched at the dining table in his pyjama pants and nothing else because he doesn't have work today. Jared beams at him and it's a moment before Adrianne's voice filters through the fog in his brain.
"Jared. Jared!" He whirls back to the screen and finds her full-on frowning now. "Who're you smiling at?"
"Jensen!" he chirps, turning the computer so she can see him. Jensen makes a valiant effort to get out of view, flapping a hand in the air like don't!, but Jared ignores him. He spent a full week going over the couple charade with Adrianne until she understood that it was just that-a charade-and she has to be over it by now. It's been months.
She waves half-heartedly, waiting until Jared turns the laptop back around before clearing her throat and trying for a smile. "I thought you said you guys weren't dating. He's sitting naked at your dining table," she says, going for light, for joking, but it falls a little flat and Jared sees right through her.
"He's got pants on!" Jared says. On the couch, Chad snuffles and rolls over.
She huffs a laugh and busies herself with piling her long blonde hair on top of her head. "Yeah, okay," she mutters, like a sigh. She looks down at the desk in front of her and plays with a stray bobby pin, purposefully not meeting his eyes. Quieter, she says, "Jared, I'm really happy that you're making new friends and everything, but. It's just that you're spending an awful lot of time with this Sandy girl…"
Jared holds up both hands in supplication. "Babe, we're just friends," he says. "She's really great. I think you'd like her a lot."
Her face twists in a wry smile. "I don't think so," she says.
Jared wishes he could reach out and touch her, because he recognises the expression on her face-the look in her eyes and the single wrinkle on her forehead means she wants to say something; the thin downward curve of her mouth means she's not going to say it. His fingertips ghost over the screen and he sighs. She may only be a few hours away, but she could be halfway across the world for all the good it does him. "I've got to go," he says reluctantly, raking a hand through his hair. "I love you."
Adrianne nods sharply, half-turned away from the camera. "I love you too, Jared," she says, stretching forward to shut the video off. Her image goes dark without as much as a goodbye.
Jared leans back, sinking further into the comfort of his old beanbag, and stares at the ceiling. He thought they were okay, that they were working. Looks like he might have just been delusional.
"Long-distance relationships never work out, man," Chad informs him helpfully, a sleepy, eavesdropping, blanket-covered lump on the couch.
Jared keeps his eyes heavenward, like a plea, like if he says it often enough it'll turn out to be true, when he insists, "We're fine."
By the time rehearsal finishes draining every ounce of his energy, his optimism has begun to fade. Sandy treats him to a meal at a diner down the road from the theatre, her small hand warm in his and her smile bright under the glare of the streetlights overhead.
"You did great today, Jared," she tells him once they're seated, smoothing her skirt beneath her, tucking her dark hair behind one ear. She looks gorgeous, and Jared forces his eyes back on his menu. "Can you believe the first show is a week from tomorrow?"
Jared blanches, flats his hands against the table with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, if a nearby waiter's glare is anything to go by. "Is it really that soon?"
She grins, brown eyes crinkling up. "You're going to be great, you know."
Their waitress arrives before Jared can say, You're going to be better, and Sandy orders a meal to rival the size of his own, complete with all sorts of toppings and ridiculous little add-ons. Jared fucking loves a girl who isn't afraid to eat and can't keep the smile off his face. She notices that something's up quicker than he expected, and her cute face scrunches up as she sips delicately at her wine.
"You wanna tell me something, Padalecki?" she challenges.
Jared really does. "You're amazing," he says.
She lets out a breathless laugh and flaps a dismissive hand in the air. "You're not so bad yourself," she says. There's a blush rising in her cheeks and she stares down at her glass, clears her throat. "Anyway. How's your girlfriend?"
Jared isn't sure whether that means Remember that you have one or Is she still around? Either way, he begins to feel a little sheepish. "She's okay," he says finally, rubbing at the back of his neck. "We sort of argued earlier, I think."
The look in Sandy's eyes is all sympathy. "Oh, honey. What happened?" The words are barely out of her mouth before she rushes to add, "You don't have to tell me, of course. It's really none of my business. Jeez, Sandy." She huffs at herself, looking embarrassed.
He waves her discomfort away. "No, it's fine," he says. "It's just the long-distance thing. It's pretty hard. The last time she was around, we had this stupid fight. We, um."
He doesn't really want to talk about it and Sandy must see that, because she holds up a hand to stop him and says, "Hey, don't worry about it. How's Jensen doing?"
Jared brightens. "He's good," he says, smiling distractedly at the waitress as she drops off a basket of bread. He fiddles with his fork and thinks about Jensen, paint-splattered from the hem of his jeans to the tips of his hair, deeply engrossed in redoing the mural of his wall. When they first moved in, Jensen painted a simple landscape-the sun setting over a field of wheat-but this time around he's planned out a rainy cityscape. 'À la Caillebotte,' Jensen told him. Jared doesn't really know what that means. "He's got this class full of college freshmen that he says he hates, but he's told me they're really talented and I think he's secretly pretty fond of them. But that might be because I'm an optimist. Actually, they probably seriously piss him off."
Sandy chuckles and waits for him to go on in silence, quietly buttering a piece of bread with a small smile on her face.
"He's been spending a lot of time with Sophia lately, I think 'cause he wants to get out of the apartment. My friend Chad is staying with us and Jensen doesn't like him much." Jared laughs at himself, jokes, "I mean, he says it's because Sophia's going through a rough patch, but it's totally Chad."
Sandy nods, smiles, but doesn't answer his unspoken question.
"So, about that," Jared wheedles. It's been bugging him for weeks. Whenever Jensen isn't teaching or at home asleep, he's out with Sophia, no doubt having secret girl-talk somewhere. He's been babysitting Danneel's son a lot, too. Jared knows Jensen really likes kids, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Jensen is really at Danneel's to counsel her through some issue as well. Jensen's a good listener; Jared's not surprised they go to him with their problems. "You wouldn't happen to know what's wrong, would you?"
Sandy looks torn. She loves to gossip-Jared has overheard her discussing the dirty little secrets of half the cast with the girl playing Peaseblossom (Kristen Something-with-a-B, if Jared's memory serves). Something is obviously keeping Sandy's mouth shut now, though. Jared is about to give up hope when she blurts out, "Sophia is gay."
Jared blinks. "Huh?"
Sandy sighs guiltily. "I suck," she mutters under her breath. Louder, she says, "She only found out recently. I think it came as a bit of a shock. Jensen's helping her through it. He's a good guy."
"He is," Jared agrees absently, still trying to wrap his mind around this new piece of information. "Wait. So she's really-?"
Sandy nods. "She said she began to figure it out around the time she was seeing your friend Chad."
Jared whoops with laughter, so loud that the couple at the adjacent table turn around to see what happened. He claps his hands over his mouth to try and muffle the noise, but it's no use. "Oh man, that's hilarious," he says when he finally wrestles his composure back. "Chad is going to love that. He turned her gay. That's awesome."
Sandy snorts, shakes her head, and leans in conspiratorially. "It wasn't him. See, Soph's got this huge crush on this girl named… Danneel, I think. Oh, do you know her?"
Jared picks his jaw off the tabletop. "She's one of Jensen's friends," he explains. Allowing himself a Chad-like moment, he sits back to think about the pair they would make. "Damn. That's hot."
Sandy rolls her eyes and swats his arm. "Pig!"
-
A Midsummer Night's Dream opens on a rainy Thursday. Adrianne says she can't afford to miss work, but Chad takes a break from pathetically bombarding Kenzie's voicemail with messages slurred to incomprehension and Jensen e-mails his students to let them know that class will happen another night. Misha gets dragged along too, after Jensen does something weird like buy his ticket for him. Jared doesn't have time to grill Jensen about it, but he writes it on the palm of his hand so there's no way he'll forget. Alexis makes him wash it off ten minutes before the show starts, and Jared remembers why he's there.
"Oh holy shit," he tells her, wide-eyed. "This is really happening."
She rolls her eyes at him. "Yeah, genius," she says. "What did you think you've been rehearsing for, shits and giggles?"
Not even her scowl can bring Jared down, and he rocks it. He knows he does, can hear himself hitting every line out of the park, delighting in the audience's laughter. What makes him sure, though, is the way Jensen smiles at him when he tumbles out of the stage door afterwards and Jensen is there at the front of the crowd, beaming with his green eyes all crinkled up so his laugh lines are extra prominent. Those are Jensen's best smiles and Jared is hugging him before he even realises that he moved.
It takes Jensen a second to respond, but then he's wrapping his arms around Jared just as tight. "You were awesome, man," he says when they pull apart, finally. He's still grinning. "Awesome," he repeats, quieter, squeezing Jared's shoulder as he lets go.
Misha steps up to congratulate him next, standing a little closer to Jensen than necessary. He's got sixteen amulets around his neck and a hand casual on Jensen's arm when he tells Jared, "Great performance," and Jared smiles and thanks him, thinking that he doesn't like Misha very much.
He can't think why, though, and Chad is there to distract him.
"That was ballin'," he decrees, reaching up to mess with Jared's hair. "Man, I have no fucking idea what you were saying, but it sure sounded cool."
Chad's (slightly drunken) approval is a nice change from the past two weeks, during which Chad was either moping around, drinking Jared's beer, or calling Kenzie, and it makes Jared feel like a shitty friend. "Tomorrow, you and me," he says, slinging an arm around Chad as the four of them make their way home, "we're gonna sit on my bed and play violent video games all day."
He's true to his word. Chad wakes up the next morning hungover, cranky, and with absolutely no recollection of bruising his shins to hell and back by tripping over a fire hydrant. Jared lugs the TV into his room, then feeds Chad an extra greasy breakfast and turns on Halo. It almost feels like they could be back at the dorm, in the days before Jared dropped out and Chad followed suit.
Jared shakes his head, tries to clear those thoughts from his head. The big difference is he's happier here than he ever was at school.
"All right, you shithead," Chad groans, crawling out from under Jared's duvet to grapple for a controller. "Let's kick some ass."
They lounge on the bed for hours, cursing and shouting and goofing around, door locked despite the empty apartment. Jared's brain is so video game-fogged that he can't really remember what the note that Jensen left said, aside from something about teaching and lunch with Misha. The idea makes him feel weird, like there's a rock sitting in his stomach, weighing him down. He thinks about it too much, rolling it around in his head like that'll help him decipher what his problem is, and ends up missing an easy shot. It's game over and Jared blinks at the screen dully.
"Jay-bird!" Chad exclaims, horrified. He throws his controller at the floor. "You fucking suck at this."
"Not so," Jared says, too distracted to pull off mock-offended very well. He reaches forward to start it up again, but then he hears the front door open and shut over the sound of Chad's complaining. Without thinking, Jared scrambles across his bed on his knees and cracks his door open. Chad gives him a weird look and sidles over to see what the big deal is. It's only when Chad whispers, "What're we doing? Spying?" with his bony chin poking into Jared's shoulder that Jared realises he has no idea what he's expecting.
He's pretty sure it wasn't this, though: Jensen's home, and he's not alone. He's standing in the kitchen with Misha, smiling and relaxed, sipping absently at a cup of coffee. Misha has his back to Jared, and they're talking in hushed tones. Jared didn't know what he was doing before, but now he wants to hear the conversation. He shoves Chad's heavy-breathing mouth away from his ear just as Misha says, "So you haven't told Jared yet?"
Chad shoots Jared a confused look, what?, but Jared just shrugs and watches as Jensen shakes his head no and Misha laughs. "Let me guess," he says, and even turned away Jared can tell that he's grinning. "You're ashamed of me."
Jensen flushes, smiles. He puts the coffee down. "That's not it."
"Duh," Misha says. "I mean, I'm awesome."
Jensen laughs and ducks his head. The pink across his cheekbones darkens when Misha puts his hands on Jensen's hips, slowing walking him backwards until Jensen bumps into the counter with a soft oh noise. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time," Misha says, and Jared realises too late what he's about to do.
Jared shuts his eyes, tries desperately to make sense of the emotions rattling around his ribcage. When he opens them again, Misha has a hand on Jensen's jaw, and they're kissing. Jensen is leaning down into the kiss, his fingers wreaking havoc with Misha's ridiculous hair. It's an extremely intimate, private moment, and Jared sort of feels like a popped balloon. He can't stop staring.
Then Chad goes, "Fucking Christ," loud enough to alert the whole of Los Angeles to their whereabouts.
Jensen freezes, clutching at Misha's arms as if trying to push him off. His eyes are wide open and bottle-green, and he's looking right at where Jared and Chad are crouched. Misha steps back with a sigh. "Guess he knows now," he tells Jensen, then turns around and gives his eavesdroppers a little wave.
"I'll, um," Jensen says.
Misha just says, "Yeah," and grabs his coat. He twists back around in the doorway, shoots Jensen a little smile, and says, "See you downstairs?" When Jensen nods, he turns his blue gaze on Jared and Chad. There is something like sadness in his eyes and Jared, heart still jackrabbiting in his chest, doesn't understand at all. Then the door shuts behind him and Jensen pushes himself off of the counter, smoothes down his pants, distractedly wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. His ears are bright red.
"Uh," he says, finally. "I was going to tell you."
Chad wordlessly shoves Jared out into the living room, then securely shuts the door. Jared knows he should be grateful that Chad's social graces have kicked in for once, but he has no idea what to say and the clock is ticking. He struggles to come up with something appropriate, wishing Chad was there to crack bad jokes and say offensive shit to lighten the mood.
Jensen clears his throat. "Are you mad?" he asks.
"No," Jared says. He's not. He doesn't know what he is. "Just… surprised, I guess."
Jensen scrapes a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well. You were pushing so hard for it."
Jared remembers that. Just keep it on the DL, okay? I know how much you like him. What's that? You're going to do Misha? Is it Misha? You really like him, huh. It seems like a million years ago now. His mouth feels dry as dust. "Well," he says, stretching, half-turned back towards his room. "Gotta go. I was in the middle of, uh. Halo."
Jensen gives a jerky nod and backs towards the door, mumbling, "I'll be downstairs if you need me."
Jared watches him go with his hand on the doorknob, half-deafened by the sounds of Halo starting up again, and his eyes fixed on the back of Jensen's head.
The next day, it all goes wrong.
-
The sun is setting over Los Angeles and Jared is staring out the window at the rows upon rows of buildings extending into the distance, calendar mostly forgotten in his lap. "It's been November for nearly a week," he told Jensen earlier, still stepping a little lightly around him with the weirdness left over from yesterday, "and no one bothered to flip the page." Jensen smiled and fished a red sharpie from its hidden spot in the bookshelves; now, just like he did with October, Jared takes that sharpie and scribbles on a few important dates. He marks the eighteenth with Midsummer's last show!! and the thirtieth simply reads, TURKEY DAY!
Jensen loves Thanksgiving, Jared learned that morning. He waxed lyrical for twenty minutes about visiting his brother in Santa Cruz and seeing some far-flung friend from his college days. Jared was bored to tears by the entire conversation, but Jensen looked so excited about all of it that there was no way Jared would've stopped him in a million years.
Thinking back on it makes Jared smile, and he's still smiling when he picks up the phone. He expects it to be Jensen on his way home from his (stupid pointless annoying) date with Misha, double-checking that Jared wants Chinese food for dinner, but the voice that greets him is all wrong.
"Hey, baby," Adrianne says.
Jared sits heavily on the couch, says on his exhale, "Hey."
Snuggled up on the beanbag, Chad takes a break from working hard at winning Kenzie back through the use of chatspeak-clogged text messages and looks up from his phone, eyebrows raised. 'Something wrong?' he mouths.
Jared shakes his head. "What's up?" he asks Adrianne.
"Well, um," she says, sounding a bit nervous. "Jared, you and I- we're not idiots; we both know we haven't been… doing so great lately."
His heart skips a beat. The Talk, he thinks.
She lets out a rather breathless laugh in his ear. "So I was thinking that we could go to my parents' for Thanksgiving," she continues, in a rush. "Make a tradition out of it. A new start."
"To Toledo?" he says numbly. It's not what he expected at all.
"Yeah," she says. "I know it's a hell of a trip, but I've been working overtime to pay for it. That's why I couldn't come to your show, honey. You know Hamlet is one of my favourite plays."
Jared picks at a loose seam in his shirt. "It's A Midsummer Night's Dream," he says, whisper-quiet. "Not Hamlet."
There's a long pause and then Adrianne sighs, a loud puff of breath in his ear. "You're… not coming to Toledo, are you."
He stares at the floor. For the first time, he notices that the cream-coloured carpet is stained brown in places and pretty fucking hideous. He sucks in a shuddering breath and scrunches his eyes closed. "We're over, aren't we?"
"I think so," she whispers. She sounds like she might be crying. "Oh god, Jared."
Definitely crying. He can't even fucking hug her or anything. Jared maps his face with one hand, palm scraping over stubble, and lurches to his feet, stumbling blindly in the direction of his room. Chad calls out after him and gets no response. Jared doesn't trust his voice right now. He needs to pull himself together.
"I'm so sorry," he says finally, even though he's not quite sure what he's apologising for. Slumping against the door, he waits for her to speak.
She doesn't, just hiccups and stifles tiny sobs in his ear. He half-wishes she would scream at him instead; at least that way he could pretend that it's anger eating up his insides and not this horrible, biting sadness that he feels down into the marrow of his bones.
They exchange half-hearted I love yous before a tearful goodbye. By the time the dial tone is thrumming shrilly in his ear, Jared is folded nearly in half, breathing slowly into the vee of his open legs and trying to understand when, why, how two and a half years of happiness went so wrong.
Someone knocks on his door.
"Go away, Chad," he says.
"Jared? Can I come in?"
It's not Chad. Jared didn't even know Jensen was home. Unable to deny him, Jared rolls himself out of the way of the door and cracks it open. Jensen is crouched close on the other side, eyes wide and skin a shade paler than normal. It makes his freckles stand out even more. At this distance, Jared can pick out each and every one. He pulls back before he starts trying to count them and flops down on his duvet, avoiding Jensen's eyes. "Hey, Jen."
Jensen closes the door behind him and silently makes a space for himself on the bed. He sits a fraction too close, hand rubbing gently over Jared's jean-clad knee. "Chad told me you got a call and locked yourself in here," he says, staring at his fingers against the denim. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Jared means to say no, but what comes out is, "Adrianne and I are over."
The hand on his leg freezes, flexes once, and then it wraps around his shoulder instead, pulling him close to Jensen for a tight hug. Jared allows it, needs it, so he presses his face into Jensen's neck and focuses on keeping himself from shaking apart.
"Ah, shit," he mumbles when it starts to feel like it's gone on too long, voice mostly muffled by Jensen's collar. "I'm getting snot all over your shirt, dude."
"Then I'll wash it," Jensen replies. His hold tightens. "You're the one who's always telling me to hug it out. C'mon, man."
Jared disentangles himself anyway, wiping at his nose with his sleeve and dragging a hand across his eyes. "Thanks," he says on a ragged exhale, staring at Jensen's brightly coloured shoes. He knows from experience that he looks like a burst sausage when he cries, and right now his eyes are swollen and hurt like fucking hell, so he must be an absolute mess. He takes a tissue from the bedside table and attempts to cover most of his face with it.
Jensen's lips quirk upwards at that, but it's a sad sort of smile. His hand slides from its place on Jared's back to rest, tenderly, against Jared's pulse-point. The touch is gone as quickly as it came, but Jared feels bereft without it. For minutes afterward, the place where Jensen's fingers were burns hot, leaving the rest of him oddly chilled.
"I'm really sorry, man," Jensen says finally. Both of his hands are now knotted tightly in his lap. "Who, um. Who ended it?"
Jared shrugs. "Both of us," he decides after a moment. "I think- it just. It wasn't working out." That sounds almost as bad as it's not me, it's you, but the worst part is that it's the truth. He shakes his head, lets out a dry laugh. "She asked me to spend Thanksgiving with her family in Ohio. I… didn't want to."
I wanted to stay here instead. With you, Jared thinks, suddenly. The thought surprises him. The shock shifts to embarrassment within moments, and he clamps down on his tongue before he does something unforgivably girly like say it out loud.
Jensen stares down at his hands. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be," he says hesitantly. His posture tells Jared, Shut me up now.
"I guess not," Jared says, choked. Without thinking, he reaches out and takes Jensen's hand in his, trying to find a way to say thank you without actually having to talk. His throat has closed up again.
Jensen, beautiful, wonderful, awesome Jensen, allows the hand-holding and they sit in silence until the last ray of sunlight has disappeared from the city outside Jared's window.
part five