Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13912029.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki, Steve_Carlson/Christian_Kane
  Character:
      Jensen_Ackles, Jared_Padalecki, Steve_Carlson, Christian_Kane, Sophia
      Bush, Sandra_McCoy, Allison_Mack
  Additional Tags:
      Fairy_Tale_Retellings, Sleeping_Beauty_Retelling, Rape_Recovery, Past
      Rape/Non-con, semi-graphic_description_of_a_past_rape, victim_was_15_at
      the_time, Alternate_Universe_-_Bands, Post-Traumatic_Stress_Disorder_-
      PTSD, jensen_does_not_have_a_good_relationship_with_his_mental_illness,
      or_the_mental_health_profession, Dissociation, Panic_Attacks, Implied/
      Referenced_Homophobia, i_swear_this_fic_is_not_as_dark_as_these_tags_make
      it_sound, i_just_want_everybody_to_be_forewarned, Angst_with_a_Happy
      Ending, Promise, it_wouldn't_be_a_fairy_tale_otherwise, Explicit_Sexual
      Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-07-25 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 27165
****** To Wake a Captive Dreamer ******
by sophie_448
Summary
     Once upon a time (ten years ago to be precise) something terrible
     happened to Jensen. He’s been dealing with it, or failing to deal
     with it, ever since. His best friend, Chris, takes care of him and
     Steve takes care of Chris. They’re one precariously balanced little
     family who also happen to play in a band together. When Jared becomes
     their new bassist, everything changes.
     An unorthodox retelling of Sleeping Beauty.
Notes
     Beta'd by KateMonster and hunterwithcause.
     Originally written for the 2008 spn_j2_bigbang.
     So I want to preface this fic with a disclaimer of sorts. At the time
     of this posting (March 2018) I wrote this ten (10) years ago.
     Needless to say, I have grown and changed a lot in that time, and
     have come to think differently about some things represented in this
     story. I use a heightened fairy tale metaphor to depict rape recovery
     and PTSD, and this was a purposeful choice on my part. I would ...
     not choose to address these topics in the same way today. I have
     hesitated to import this story because I felt uncomfortable about
     that. (Also because I'm lazy and this is only the second of my older
     fics I've imported at all, but that's a separate issue.) However,
     after thinking it over for a long time I came to the conclusion that
     just because it's not a choice I would make today doesn't necessarily
     make it a wrong choice. And ultimately I'm still proud of the work
     that I put into this fic. To this day I don't think I have ever more
     meticulously planned and edited any story.
     I also think it's somewhat of a disservice to fandom as a whole when
     older stories are deleted or lost. They're a big part of our history,
     and it's obviously a big part of AO3's mission to preserve that
     history. So I figured if I believe it about other people's work, I
     should apply it to my own as well. And I swear I will eventually get
     the rest of my old stories over here.
***** Prologue *****
Once upon a time there lived a king and queen. They reigned over a prosperous
kingdom and were wealthy and happy. They lacked only one thing to make their
happiness complete, and that was a child. Before many years had passed, their
wish came true, and the queen gave birth to a son. All the kingdom rejoiced at
the birth of the young prince, lavishing rich gifts on him, except for one man.
An evil wizard lived in the kingdom and he was filled with a jealous rage, for
he had been in love with the king many years ago. He hated the queen and the
newborn prince for gaining the king’s love when he could not, but he hated the
king even more for slighting him.
On the very day of the prince’s birth, the evil wizard came to the queen,
sneaking past the armed guards of the palace. He laid a curse upon the child,
swearing that the prince would pay for his father’s misdeeds. The king
discovered the wizard’s presence and had him banished immediately, but the
damage was done. The queen wept bitterly for the fate of her child and the king
decided that they should flee to a faraway kingdom. They vanished without a
trace, hoping that if the wizard could not find them, his curse might never be
fulfilled.
At first they were afraid every day, but as time went on and it seemed that the
wizard had not followed them, they became content. They lived happily in exile
for many years and the young prince grew up strong, handsome, and wise, with
eyes as green as leaves in spring and hair as golden as honey and flax. The
king and queen could almost believe that the curse and their previous life had
been nothing but a bad dream. They were certain that the wizard could never
find them.
All this time, though, the wizard had been working strong, dark magic to find
the young prince. Finally, on the prince’s fifteenth birthday, his long search
was rewarded. He went immediately to the place where the prince was. He easily
separated the prince from the group of young noblemen with whom he was
celebrating, pulling him into a dark passageway.
The wizard meant to kill the prince, but when he looked upon him he was
overcome with lust. He resembled the king greatly. With a howl of rage and
despair, the wizard forced the prince to lie with him. The prince was untouched
and he begged the wizard to show mercy, but the wizard refused to relent. He
finally left the prince broken and despairing on the ground.
When the king and queen learned what had happened, they were horrified. They
sent guards into every part of the kingdom and the wizard was quickly found.
His actions were so evil that his magic had deserted him. He no longer had the
power to flee and he was thrown into the deepest dungeon where he remained to
the miserable end of his days.
The damage to the prince, however, could not be undone. The curse had been
fulfilled and he became a shadow of his former self. Eventually he learned to
smile and laugh again, but they were merely echoes. Thorns grew up around his
heart so that no one could reach him and, safe behind his impenetrable wall of
brambles, the prince was asleep.
 
***** Part 1 *****
Jensen feels his cock sliding into the guy’s ass vaguely, as though slightly
removed from himself. What was his name again? he wonders idly as he grips slim
hips hard enough to bruise, forcing the guy to scrabble for purchase on the
wall of the back room of the bar. He thrusts in harder, wanting to feel
something, but the guy is pushing back against him, panting and moaning and
jerking his cock frantically, so he knows he isn’t being too rough. Feel
something, he thinks bitterly, as if he doesn’t know by now that nothing is
going to cut through the numbness.

Still, there’s friction and a tight ass around his dick and Jensen comes after
a few more thrusts. He pulls out quickly, tying off the condom and throwing it
away. He has his pants up and his belt buckled before his partner has a chance
to do more than sag boneless against the wall.

“Well, that was great. Thanks,” he says perfunctorily, taking a step backwards.
The guy’s all fucked out, so probably his brain isn’t getting the messages
Jensen is sending quite fast enough. He reaches out a hand and pulls Jensen
towards him, moving in for a kiss. Jensen places a hand on his chest and pushes
slightly, not unkind, but firmly removing the guy from his space. 

He’s at the door, hand on the knob when the guy says, “Can I get your number?” 

Can’t take a hint, Jensen thinks and rolls his eyes slightly. He gives the guy
his signature smirk and simply says, “No.” Then he’s out the door and back into
the smoke and noise and crowd of the main room. 

He spots Chris over by the bar and wades through the mass of people to his
side. “Hey, I’m gonna call it a night. See you at home, okay?” 

Chris looks over in the direction Jensen came from and his eyes go flat with
comprehension. Jensen follows his gaze and sees tonight’s conquest just
stumbling out of the back room looking completely debauched. “Jen—“ Chris
starts. 

“Bye, Chris,” Jensen cuts him off and is on his way before his best friend can
say anything more. He tosses a devil-may-care grin over his shoulder and
pretends he doesn’t see the worry on Chris’ face. 

                                      ~*~


Not long after Chris watches Jensen practically sprint out the door, Steve
sidles up and grabs the recently vacated stool next to him at the bar. 

“Jen leave already?” he asks. 

Chris nods. “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” he says, laughing humorlessly and
nodding towards the other side of the room where Jensen’s latest fuck buddy is
still leaning dazedly against the doorframe. Steve’s lips thin and the worry in
his eyes mirrors Chris’. 

Chris sighs heavily and Steve rubs his shoulder comfortingly, but they let the
subject drop. After all, what is there to say? Jensen does this every weekend,
sometimes more than once. Chris knows Jensen is careful; always uses a condom
and gets tested regularly just to be sure, but that doesn’t really make it
better. 

On the other hand, this has been a pretty solid pattern for about seven years
now and Chris really doesn’t like to dwell on the time before that. As bad as
the casual, anonymous sex is, that was infinitely worse. 

Chris takes a long pull of his beer and tries to put Jensen out of his mind.
His best friend is home and safe for now and there’s a hot blond next to him
who really deserves some love and attention. 

                                      ~*~


Jensen’s alarm goes off and he groans and rolls over. He hates Monday mornings
and he’s slightly hung-over today. He feels the pounding in his head distantly,
though. Making a mental note to have a beer or two fewer on Sunday nights, he
drags himself out of bed and into the shower. 

Force of habit carries him through his morning routine and sees him out the
door, coffee in hand, just as he hears Chris’ alarm go off in the other bedroom
and Chris’ very colorful insults of the alarm clock’s parentage. One corner of
his mouth twitches upward a fraction. Chris is one of the best things in his
life. Not that there’s a lot of competition, but he’s pretty sure that even if
there were, Chris would still top the list. Jensen doesn’t know what he’d do
without him. 

Jensen would be lost without his routine. He tries to schedule each moment of
his day because he really doesn’t know what to do with downtime. Plus there’s
the constant fear that if he stops moving for too long, he won’t start again.
The fear doesn’t occupy the front of his consciousness. It doesn’t distract
him. Rather, it’s like white noise in the back of his mind. Its constant
presence makes him forget it’s there most of the time. But if he has time to
dwell on things, it might get a lot louder. 

So Jensen has his routine and his schedule. Monday through Friday he goes to
work, of course. He’s a mid-level associate with a very respectable local
marketing firm. He started as an assistant there straight out of college three
years ago. At school, he majored in marketing with a minor in music. He only
got the minor because Chris poked and prodded until capitulation was easier
than resisting anymore, refusing to let Jensen push his lifelong love of music
aside. 

Jensen vaguely remembers thinking at thirteen or fourteen that he might double
major in English and Music, but that Jensen was an entirely different person.
This Jensen likes the concrete nature of marketing; taking things that seem
abstract and unquantifiable and reducing them to numbers and charts and focus
groups. It’s safe. 

Music and literature are shifting and nebulous, full of emotions that Jensen
only dimly remembers ever feeling. Of course, Chris won’t let him close himself
off from music. Just like he pushed Jensen to get the music minor, he dragged
him, practically kicking and screaming, into his band. Of course he pretended
Jensen was doing him a favor, but Jensen isn’t stupid. Chris has been working
tirelessly for ten years to keep Jensen from entirely shutting down emotionally
and music is a big part of that. Jensen is as grateful as he can be under the
circumstances, but he knows he doesn’t show it. He can’t. It’s like there’s a
wall between him and the rest of the world and the real Jensen, the one inside
his head, can’t bridge the gap. 

His phone rings around two o’clock. 

“Jensen Ackles,” he answers. 

“Hey, Jen,” Chris says, a note of excitement in his voice, “Just wanted to make
sure you remembered about band practice tonight.” 

Jensen raises his eyebrows even though Chris can’t see. He’s a creature of
habit. He never forgets anything on his schedule. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“Good, good.” Chris pauses for a just long enough to make Jensen nervous. 

“Chris?” 

“Yeah. So, Jen, um—I might have found us a bass player. He’s gonna try out
tonight, okay?” 

Now Chris’ hesitation makes sense. He knows Jensen hates any last minute
alterations to his schedule. This is a good thing, though. The band hasn’t been
able to book any major gigs since their last bass player, Chad, quit a couple
of months ago and moved to New York. 

“That’s great, Chris,” he says evenly. 

“Really?”

“Of course. If he’s any good maybe we can get some real gigs soon.” 

Chris chuckles lightly. “Yeah. Well, here’s hoping.” 

Jensen is glad that he can make his friend happy for once. “All right. See you
tonight, Chris.” 

“Later, Jen.” 

                                      ~*~


Jared is trapped in his living room. He’s standing on a tiny island of clear
floor, surrounded on all sides by cardboard boxes stacked about chest-high. He
isn’t sure how this happened. He had an escape route a minute ago. He was just
trying to find the box with his DVDs. He moved a few things and now he’s
trapped. 

He looks out on the sea of boxes and bags and scattered furniture, not one
piece of which is anywhere close to where it should be, with a growing sense of
dread. They have to be breeding. Packing boxes are an as-yet-undiscovered form
of life because there is no way he actually has this much crap. It couldn’t
possibly all have fit into his car and Jeff’s truck. 

Jared quickly steers his mind away from thoughts of Jeff as he remembers the
look on his brother’s face when he dropped him off in Richardson. He doesn’t
know when he’ll see Jeff again, or Megan, but it doesn’t help to dwell. He
returns his focus to the task at hand—getting free. He gingerly shifts a few
boxes around until he has a path to the door. From there he can get to the
bedroom through an exciting obstacle course around the room. However, access to
the kitchenette at the side of the main room might require Olympic level pole
vaulting, which could be why Jared’s been eating take-out for the past two
days. 

His eyes light on the long, rectangular case propped near the door. It’s dull,
black plastic enlivened by stickers for various bands. He opens the case to
reveal his bass guitar. Jared feels better just looking at it. The shimmering
dark teal body and the four sturdy strings running across it ground him. It
makes him feel a little more at home in strange place. 

Jared pulls out the instrument and his tuner. He wants to be ready for tonight.
He can’t believe his luck at finding a band looking for a bass player before
he’s even unpacked. He was just checking out the online classifieds as an
excellent mode of procrastination from sorting through the contents of boxes
and came across the listing from this band, Collin Street Secret. He sent them
an email right away and got a response in less than an hour asking him to come
to their practice the next day and try out. 

He tried and failed to keep from beaming his thousand-watt grin at his empty
apartment, feeling like a big dork. Then he figured no one was around to mock
him for it and gave up. He tried to do a happy dance and nearly killed himself
falling over boxes. 

But that’s kind of par for the course. Jared’s pretty hyper and most of the
time he can’t concentrate on one thing for too long before he’s on to the next
new and shiny. The casual observer might wonder how he’d managed to stick with
one instrument for so long and with such dedication. But even the most frenetic
personality needs a center. When Jared plays his bass, all the crazy, scattered
thoughts spinning in his head just settle down and get quiet for a while. The
smooth, low vibrations against his fingers seem to seep into his soul and give
him some peace. 

Not to mention he really likes to rock out with a band. He has a good feeling
about the tryout. Sandy, his best friend from college, would say it’s just his
overly optimistic nature playing tricks on him, but Jared hopes this will be
one of those times when his feelings turn out to be entirely accurate. He
smiles wistfully thinking of Sandy. She’s just one more person he’s had to
leave behind to start this new life. He squares his shoulders and tells himself
firmly that it’s worth it. 

Glancing at his watch, Jared realizes he’d better hurry and get a shower if he
wants to have time to eat before his audition. He puts his bass away and closes
the latches on the case before standing cautiously and gearing himself up for
the harrowing trip to the bedroom. 

                                      ~*~


Jared’s cussing out Mapquest. He may even have made up some new words to
describe his loathing of it. And really, he should have known better. He vows
quite solemnly that he will never cheat on Google Maps again if he can just get
where he’s going. 

Apparently the Google gods are listening because he manages to make it to the
right address with a couple of minutes to spare. And honestly, Richardson is
tiny. He’s not sure how he even managed to get lost in the first place. He
takes a couple of deep breaths and cuts the ignition. 

The house is a fairly small one-storey that’s showing its age a bit around the
edges, but is reasonably nice and well cared for. The email had said to come
around to the basement entrance at the back of the house. He gets out of the
car and grabs his bass case from the back seat. 

He’s fairly close to the house before he can hear the rumbling of the
drumming. Good sound proofing, he thinks. He descends the narrow flight of
concrete stairs and knocks at the door. He’s not really surprised when no one
answers. It’s hard to hear anything over drums, he knows. Hoping it doesn’t
come across as presumptuous, he pushes the door open and ducks just slightly to
enter. 

He’s right about the soundproofing. The second Jared opens the door he’s nearly
bowled over by the force of the percussion. Thanks to the noise level, he has a
moment to observe his surroundings before the occupants of the room notice his
presence. There’s a beat up couch against the wall to his left. A muscular guy
with chin-length dark brown hair sits on it. His t-shirt is reasonably tight
and indicates a nicely sculpted torso. It says “Don’t Mess With Texas.” His
jeans are ripped at the knees and a cowboy hat sits on the arm of the couch
beside him. 

His wardrobe says “good ‘ole boy,” but his actions say something a bit
different. There’s another guy sitting on the floor beside him. He’s dressed in
jeans and a plain gray t-shirt and he’s leaning up against the first guy, his
head resting on his knee. The cowboy is running his fingers affectionately
through his blond hair. They both look deeply relaxed, like they’re listening
to Mozart instead of an energetic drum solo. 

Jared’s eyes are drawn to the source of the wall of sound and suddenly he’s
rooted to the spot and he can’t stop staring. The drummer has dirty blond hair,
shorter than the other two band members and currently spiked with sweat from
his exertions. He’s dressed in jeans and a wife-beater that’s clinging to his
sticky skin. He’s well built, with muscles that are lean rather than bulky.
Jared’s eyes catch on his glistening biceps and forearms that flex as he pounds
out a frantic rhythm. 

This guy is gorgeous all over, but it’s his eyes that have Jared mesmerized.
They’re an impossibly clear green and as he plays they shine with an intensity
that he’s never seen. He’s caught off-guard by the wave of desire that hits him
straight in the gut. Want. Want now. 

He’s still trying to wrestle his baser instinct back under control when he’s
surprised by a tap on his shoulder. He’d been so caught up in staring at the
drummer he hadn’t even realized the other guys had finally noticed him and
gotten up. It’s the cowboy who’s trying to get his attention. He stands a good
six inches shorter than Jared, but unlike most people, he doesn’t look at all
intimidated by the height difference. 

He opens his mouth and tries to say something, but the words are lost in the
noise. Jared shakes his head and taps his ear to indicate he can’t hear. The
brunet nods and jogs over to the drummer, tapping him on the shoulder. He
barely misses losing an eye to a flying drumstick as the noise comes to an
abrupt halt. 

“Jesus, Chris! You scared the hell out of me!” 

Chris, for this must be the Chris Kane he’s been emailing with, angles his head
in Jared’s direction. The drummer’s eyes widen and then Jared watches the
strangest thing happen. It’s like a wall goes down behind those green eyes,
hiding the intense look that had him so fascinated. Then he seems to just close
up. The beautiful, feral creature Jared had witnessed gets tucked away behind a
mask of politeness as the guy stands and comes towards him, trailing behind
Chris. 

“Hey, I’m Chris Kane. You must be Jared.” Chris claps Jared’s hand in a hearty
handshake. 

Jared nods. “Yeah, it’s great to meet you.” 

Chris nods first to his right. “This here’s Steve,” he says, indicated the
blond whose hair he’d been stroking. 

“Steve Carlson,” he introduces himself and Jared collects another hearty
handshake. 

Chris then indicates the drummer. “And this is Jensen Ackles.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jensen,” Jared says with perhaps more enthusiasm than is
strictly necessary, but he can’t quite contain his fascination. 

“A pleasure,” Jensen murmurs and his handshake is nothing like the others. Firm
enough to not be considered a flimsy handshake, but not one iota too hard or
too familiar. Jared gets an uncanny feeling that Jensen has studied handshakes
to make his exactly correct and proper, but surely that’s ridiculous. 

Then Chris is off on a spiel about the band and Jared yanks his attention back.
“So I do guitar and lead vocals. Steve’s lead guitar and backup vocals. I guess
it goes without saying that Jensen’s on drums.” He tosses a smirk in Jensen’s
direction. 

Jared’s delighted when Jensen sticks his tongue out at Chris, his eyes
sparkling with mischief for a split second before he slips back behind his
guarded expression. 

“Anyway, Jared, you can set up here,” Chris continues, indicating a spot
slightly less covered in tangled wires than the surrounding area. Jared pulls
out his bass and tuner, moving into the indicated spot. His instrument hasn’t
managed to get too badly out of tune since an hour ago, so he makes some slight
adjustments and is ready to go. He fishes around in the mess of cables on the
ground for a moment until he finds a free cord into the amp. 

He straightens up and slides the strap around his shoulder. Chris and Steve
have finished setting up too and Chris thrusts a stack of papers at him. “Here.
I printed out chord sheets for a few of our old standbys.” He waves a hand at a
music stand perched precariously among the wires. “You can use that. You ready
to have at it?” There’s a friendly challenge in his voice. 

“Absolutely,” Jared says, grinning widely. 

They run a brief sound check and then Chris counts down the first song. It’s a
rollicking country-rock number and Jared takes a couple of measures to pick up
the tempo. Then he jumps in with both feet. The chord progression itself is
fairly simple and he has it memorized after a couple of verses. Then he’s able
to really sink in and enjoy playing and observing the others. Jensen’s setting
a blazing rhythm, his arms flying. Steve’s fingers are moving too fast to
follow across the strings of his guitar. Chris is strumming for all he’s worth
and they’re laying down an amazing vocal harmony on top of it all. 

Jared’s grin spreads from ear to ear. It’s been too long since he’s been able
to play like this. Actually, he’s not sure he’s ever played quite like this.
These guys are amazing. But then, so is he. He starts listening for where he
might be able to toss in a little something other than the standard bass line.
And there it is. There’s this little breath between the verse and the chorus.
The next time it comes around he tosses in a little turn. Chris looks over and
gives him an appreciative nod and Jared grins back, not missing a note. 

They play for a couple of hours and things continue to go well. At least, Jared
thinks so, and he’s pretty sure those are positive signals he’s getting from
Chris and Steve. Jensen, well, Jared is boggled by Jensen. Whenever they’re
playing, that intense look comes back into his eyes and he pounds the drums
like a man possessed. The second the last chord sounds he swipes a hand across
his forehead and he’s all prim and proper again. Clearly there’s something
fairly major going on with Jensen that Jared is not privy to. And hey, they’ve
barely met, it’s okay. But by the time Chris calls a halt on account of the
neighbors, Jared’s determined that he’s going to find out what’s hiding behind
Jensen’s enigmatic exterior. 

As Jared’s packing up Chris says, “Well, Jared, you’re a damn good bassist. So
the three of us will have a little sit down and give you call in the next day
or so, all right?” 

Jared grins and clasps Chris’ hand once more. “Sounds great,” he says, hoping
he doesn’t seem too eager. It’s never good to come across as needy. He’s pretty
sure he’s in, though. He tries to remember what his momma told him about not
counting his chickens before they’re hatched, but he’s pretty sure he can hear
chirping. And then he has to take a moment trying not to wince in pain at the
memory of his mother. He banishes it quickly to the back of his mind and hefts
his case. “I’ll look forward to it,” he says, waving a general farewell around
the room before exiting and taking the basement stairs two at a time on his way
up. 

                                      ~*~


Jensen watches Jared go with a mixture of relief and disappointment. He hasn’t
been this off balance in years. He can’t believe the giant with floppy hair and
the biggest grin he’s ever seen has thrown off his equilibrium so thoroughly in
such a short time. Jared looked at him with those hazel cat eyes and Jensen
suddenly felt defenseless, like Jared could see straight through all his
carefully constructed armor right into his broken soul. It was terrifying. 

What’s even scarier was that some part of Jensen doesn’t mind. Jared is
freaking six four and has the build to go with it. He should be deeply
intimidating, but he has such a harmless, almost puppy-like demeanor that it
somehow counteracts his physical size. Like maybe he’s someone that can be
trusted. Someone safe. 

Jensen shakes his head to clear it. Thinking like that is dangerous. He can’t
let people in. He makes a decision then and there. He’s going to fuck Jared.
Fuck him until his brains shoot straight out through his dick and prove he’s
just like everybody else. Then Jensen will be safe again. Won’t get this
squirmy feeling like he doesn’t fit in his skin anymore. He nods decisively,
settling on his plan. 

“Jen! Hey, Jen, you still with us?” Chris waves a hand in front of his face.

Jensen bats it away, scowling half-heartedly. “Yeah, what?” 

“Just discussing the maybe, hopefully newest member of the band. No big deal,”
Chris teases, rolling his eyes. 

Jensen flushes, realizing how far he’d zoned out. “Right, sorry.” 

“So, what’d you think? He’s great, right?” 

There’s no denying Jared is a stellar bassist. They should definitely grab him
before someone else does. Then it hits him. Jared’s almost certainly going to
be joining the band. Generally he doesn’t ever see his casual fucks again once
he’s done with them, but he’d have to see Jared at least twice a week. He
mentally curses a blue streak. But if he has to see Jared on a regular basis
and he doesn’t fuck him, it’s going to be completely unbearable. 

No, he definitely needs to stick to the plan. Doesn’t mean they can’t play
together afterward. Might be a little awkward, but Jensen figures Jared’s a big
boy. If he can’t take the brush off gracefully then he’s probably not someone
they want to be associating with anyway. All right, so, proceeding with the
plan then. 

He realizes Chris is angling a concerned look at him and he’s zoned out again.
“Yeah, absolutely, he’s fantastic. Let’s call him!” 

Chris chokes out a laugh. “All right there, Sparky. Glad you agree, but we
don’t want to look desperate, right? I’ll give him a call tomorrow and let him
know.” 

Steve and Chris pack up their guitars and they all pile out of the basement and
head around to the front of the house. Steve tosses his case into the back of
his midsize SUV. He has his hand on the driver’s side door handle when Chris
stops him, placing his hand over top and crowding into Steve’s space. “You sure
you can’t stay tonight?” he asks, running his other hand through Steve’s hair. 

Steve nods. “Yeah, I’ve got to be at work really early.” Steve owns this little
place in town. It’s half coffee shop, half bookstore. Most times he gets high
school kids, desperate for a little extra cash, to do the ass o’clock opening
shifts, but he is the boss, so sometimes he can’t get around it. 

Chris nods sympathetically. “Okay, get some sleep, sugar,” he drawls, then
leans in and kisses his boyfriend. 

Jensen rolls his eyes and heads on into the house. Those two are like newlyweds
even though they’ve been together for nearly four years. Goodbyes will take
twenty minutes at least. He feels a brief twinge of sadness, knowing he’ll
never have what they have, but he shoves it away. His way is safer. As long as
he doesn’t let anyone in, no one can hurt him. 

                                      ~*~


Jared pulls out his cell phone on the drive home and hits the speed dial for
Sandy. 

She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, sweetie! What’s up?” 

“Hey, nothing much. I just finished my tryout with that band I was telling you
about.” 

“Oh yeah? How did it go? Did they fall at your feet and beg you to join
immediately?” 

Jared laughs. “Not quite, but it went really well, I think. And they seem like
really cool guys. Chris—Chris Kane, the lead singer, said he’d call me probably
tomorrow, so I should know soon.” 

“Well that’s great! They’d be idiots not to snap you up, with your talent.” 

“Aww, you’re just saying that ‘cause you have to. Best friend rules and all.” 

“Nah, I’d say it even if I wasn’t contractually obligated. You really are, you
know.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, Jay?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How’s everything else? You settling in okay?” 

He sighs softly. “Yeah, it’s all right. I start work at the fabulous Richardson
Gazette next week and I hope I can get everything unpacked before then. My
apartment is seriously tiny.” 

“Well, that’s the price of independence,” she says, a smile back in her voice,
“You have to pay your dues somewhere. And anyway, soon you’re going to be a
famous bassist and you won’t have to slave away working nine to five like the
rest of us.” 

“Here’s hoping,” he answers. 

“All right, sweetie, I’ve gotta run. You take care of yourself, all right?” 

“Don’t I always?” 

“Yeah. And Jared?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I miss you.” 

He bites his lip hard for a second, fighting a traitorous tightening in his
throat. After a moment he thinks his voice is back under control. “Yeah, I miss
you too.” 

                                      ~*~


Jensen is having trouble concentrating at work. This is deeply disturbing
because Jensen never has trouble concentrating at work. He loves work because
he can just turn off all extraneous parts of his brain and dive into the cold
comfort of numbers and graphs for eight hours. But today he just can’t seem to
focus. He’s been staring at the same page of survey data for the last half
hour. His mind keeps wandering, memories of hazel eyes, floppy brown hair, and
a blindingly white grin flitting in front of his eyes. 

Mumbling a curse, he shoves his chair back from his desk and gets up. He heads
to the break room, thinking some coffee might clear his head. The room is as
corporately sterile as the rest of the office. The only decorations are the
legally required posters about Worker’s Compensation and Minimum Wage. 

He opens the cupboard over the small dishwasher and grabs a mug at random from
the motley selection contained therein. He turns on his heel, heading for the
coffee maker on the opposite side of the room. Unfortunately he didn’t notice
someone else had come into the break room. He runs smack into a tiny blonde
woman and the empty mug goes flying from his hand, shattering on the tile
floor. Instantly he’s mumbling apologies, asking if she’s all right, and
sinking to his knees to attempt to collect the shards of coffee cup. 

“Hey, hey, stop that! You’re going to cut yourself!” She tugs at his sleeve.
“Come on, I’m fine. No blood, no foul, right? Let me just grab the broom.” 

Jensen stands somewhat sheepishly, dusting off the knees of his slacks. “You’re
sure you’re okay?” 

“Totally fine,” she assures him, grinning as she sweeps up the jagged pieces of
porcelain, “I’m Allison, by the way. I’m new.” 

Which would explain why he didn’t recognize her. Sure, he didn’t spend a lot of
time socializing with his coworkers, but he at least knew them all by face and
name. He extends his hand to offer his perfectly modulated handshake.
“Jensen.” 

Her eyebrows go up. “Oh, so you’re Jensen.” 

He frowns, confused. “Yes?” 

She grins again. “They told me about you is all.” 

“Told you what?” 

“Oh, they just said you were kind of,” she pauses and he knows she’s trying to
come up with a polite way of phrasing whatever she’s been told, “prickly.” 

“Prickly?” he repeats. 

She nods. “Yeah, but I don’t put much stock in office gossip. You seem pretty
nice to me.” 

He smiles wistfully, appreciating the effort, but knowing it won’t last long.
He decides to save her the trouble. “They’re probably right,” he says. “I’m
just not much for office socializing.” 

“Hmm. Well that’s fair, I guess.” She purses her lips for a moment. “Think
you’d be up for making an exception? It’s just that I’m new in town and,
prickly or not, you’re the nicest person I’ve met so far.” 

Jensen’s kind of taken aback. It must show in his expression because Allison
makes puppy-dog eyes at him. 

“Come on, please? Be my office buddy?” 

She startles a laugh from him. He really ought to shut her down. Letting people
in is always dangerous, but she’s staring up at him, her lower lip protruding
comically. She’s just a co-worker, after all, and a small, non-threatening,
female one at that. He sighs and gives in. “Yeah, all right, but no promises
I’ll actually be a good one.” 

She snaps out of the fake pout, grinning brightly. “Awesome! See you for lunch
then?” And she’s gone, leaving Jensen staring bemusedly after her wondering
what he’s gotten himself into. 

He heads back to his office, forgetting about his coffee entirely. He works
steadily until she barrels into his office at 12:30 and drags him out to lunch.
He’s surprised when he realizes he hasn’t thought about a certain, ridiculously
tall bass player all morning. 

                                      ~*~


For the second day in a row, Jensen gets a mid-afternoon call from Chris. 

“Hey, buddy!” Chris sounds enthusiastic rather than apprehensive today. 

“Hey, Chris.” 

“So I called Jared and he,” Chris pauses, “Well, actually he kind of squealed
like a little girl, then tried to act all cool to cover it up.” Chris sounds
delighted in a kind of evil way and Jensen supposes Jared is never going to
live this down. 

“So he’s in?” 

“Definitely. I told him he should come by Steve’s for drinks tonight. You up
for swinging by?” 

“Sure, what time?” 

“Seven.” 

“Okay, see y’all then.” 

“Great. Bye, Jen.” 

“Bye.” 

Jensen figures tonight is as good a time as any to execute his plan. A couple
of Steve’s Irish coffees and Jared won’t know what hit him. And afterwards
Jensen won’t have to worry about that too-perceptive gaze anymore. 

                                      ~*~


The Java Script is Steve’s pride and joy. It’s half coffee shop, half bookstore
and, because this is Texas, he has a liquor license. The coffee is as plain or
as fancy as you want to make it. Steve caters to both the younger generation
who grew up speaking Starbucks and the older crowd who “just want a cup of
coffee dammit.” 

As for the books, he orders in a few new copies of the hottest bestsellers, but
mostly operates on the book exchange principle. Used books sell for half the
list price and if you bring in books to trade, you get a quarter of the list
price in credit. Since the books are already in used condition, it doesn’t
really matter if people flip through them while they’re having their coffee. 

When he first started up, straight after graduating with a joint degree, BA in
English with an MBA tacked on in just an extra year, he trawled library sales
across three counties to stock the shelves. He has some heavy competition from
Starbucks, but Richardson is the kind of town that likes to support independent
enterprise, so he’s doing pretty well. Over the past three years he’s built up
a loyal customer base and he’s tremendously proud of what he’s achieved. 

The shop is decorated in dark wood and jewel toned furniture. The light is
bright enough to read by, but it has a warm quality to it that gives a cozy
“sit a spell” feel, helped along by the numerous big, fluffy chairs. He’s
seated in his favorite one, looking over the paperwork for next week’s coffee
order while he waits for Chris, Jensen, and Jared. 

Steve met Chris and Jensen by chance when they were in their last year at UT
Dallas. Chris was playing at this coffee shop near campus with Jensen running
sound and Steve was shamelessly scoping the place out for ideas he could adapt.
As soon as he spotted Chris, though, he had something better to scope out than
the floor plan. 

Chris spotted him too and wasted no time introducing himself after the set.
Steve had never felt such an instant connection with anyone and it was entirely
mutual. He’s sure they would have gone home together that night if it weren’t
for Jensen. Steve gets it now, but at the time he was fantastically confused. 

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he’d asked. 

Chris’ eyes had gone dark and hungry and Steve was sure he was going to say
yes, but then he’d glanced at his timid little green-eyed friend. “Umm, we
should get going actually. Jensen, my roommate, he doesn’t really like to be
out after dark.” 

Steve stared at him incredulously. “Can’t he take care of himself?” 

He clearly spoke too loud because Jensen, packing up their equipment a few feet
away, flinched. Chris saw it and when he turned back to Steve, his expression
was hard. 

“Listen, Steve, nice to meet you and all, but we’ve got to get going. See you
around.” His voice contained none of the warmth it had just moments before and
Steve was instantly sorry even though he wasn’t entirely sure what had just
happened. He sat there dumbfounded as Chris helped Jensen pack up the last of
their gear and head for the exit. 

Chris was nearly to the door, a protective arm slung around Jensen’s shoulders
when Steve decided he was an idiot if he didn’t try to fix this. He jumped up
and caught Chris’ arm before he made it outside. 

“Yeah?” Chris’ expression was far from welcoming. 

“Listen, man, I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I don’t know either of
you and I shouldn’t have said anything about something I don’t know anything
about, so. Sorry. Umm, here’s my number.” He thrust a scrap of paper at Chris
who looked like he took it more out of surprise than anything else. “I’m not
usually such an ass and I’d just. Really like it if you called.” He stopped and
realized he didn’t have any idea what to do next. He felt a blush creeping up
his neck and decided he’d better get out before he dug himself in any deeper.
“Umm, okay, have a nice night. Bye!” He slid around them and out the door,
leaving Chris and Jensen gaping after him like fish. 

Chris called the next day and blew him in a secluded corner behind the library
that afternoon. And the rest was history as far as he and Chris were concerned.
Jensen was another story entirely. Steve got to know him in fits and starts,
with Chris running heavy interference. He didn’t make the mistake of
questioning Chris taking care of Jensen again, though. He just went with it and
figured it would all sort itself out in time. 

Shortly before graduation, he got the full story. Or as much of the full story
as he’s ever likely to get. Chris tried to get Jensen to tell Steve himself,
but he just couldn’t do it. He gave permission for Chris to tell him though.
Chris gave him only the bare bones of the story, but that was more than enough.
After that, he never questioned Chris’ protectiveness of his best friend again,
even privately. 

Somewhere in the middle of all that they started playing music together, along
with the now-absent Chad Murray. When graduation rolled around, it seemed like
a no brainer to follow Chris and Jensen back to Richardson. After all, he could
start up his shop anywhere and honestly, wherever Chris went, Steve followed.
He was a little disappointed that Chris didn’t want to live together. Well,
that’s not really fair. Steve knows that Chris both wanted and still wants to
move in with him, but he’s too loyal a friend to abandon Jensen. Steve
suggested once that they could all three share a house, but Chris didn’t think
it was a good idea. 

Instead, Steve converted the second floor of Java Script into a small
apartment. It’s functional, but that’s about it. He doesn’t want to put a lot
of effort into something he hopes is temporary. But he and Chris are in a kind
of holding pattern as long as Jensen still needs Chris so much. Steve’s a
patient man, though, and he loves Chris to a degree that is truly stupid. So he
can wait. He tries not to entertain thoughts about what might happen if Jensen
never gets any better, and if sometimes, in the dark hours of the early
morning, he fails, well, he can just pretend he doesn’t remember. 

Steve jerks himself back into the present and realizes he has gotten exactly
nowhere on his paperwork. Right now he’s not worried about him and Chris. Right
now he’s worried about Jensen and how he’s going to deal with the newest
introduction to their inner circle. Jensen doesn’t do that well with new
people. Based on their first meeting, though, Steve thinks Jared is as good a
choice as they could have hoped to find. It’s not just that he’s a good bass
player. Any number of people fit that bill, but Jared seems to have a really
good grasp of people and how to deal with them. Steve knows he noticed Jensen
clamming up when they were introduced, but Jared didn’t push the issue. 

“You know, boss, if you’re not careful your face will stick like that.” 

Steve’s assistant manager, Sophia, is leaning on the back of his chair,
grinning impishly at him. He rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t you have work to
do?” he demands with mock sternness. 

“Oh, absolutely. Let me just go take care of that 6:30 coffee rush.” She
gestures broadly around the store at the empty counter and the three customers
reading contentedly in various corners. “So what’s got your sunny self looking
all dark and moody?” she enquires. 

“Nothing. We, uh, found a new bass player.” 

Sophia’s smile dims momentarily, but brightens almost before Steve can catch
it. “But that’s good news, right? I mean, you can start booking real gigs
again!” 

He smiles. “Yeah, it’s good. I’m just worried about Jensen.” He doesn’t have to
elaborate. Sophia nods in comprehension immediately. 

“Nice guy?” 

“Yeah, better than we could have expected.” 

“Then it’ll be fine.” 

“I hope so.” 

The door on the bell jingles and a customer wanders in. Sophia straightens up
and moves towards the counter. Steve grabs her hand before she can get far.
“Hey, Soph?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Chad’s an ass.” 

She tries to grin, but it’s more of a grimace. “Yeah, I know.” Her mood shifts
abruptly. “Now stop keeping me from doing business!” 

He laughs and lets her go, but follows her with his eyes. Sophia and Chad dated
for nearly a year before he up and moved to New York. He didn’t give her any
more warning than the rest of them and Steve finds it much harder to forgive
the guy for dumping Sophia like yesterday’s garbage than for abandoning the
band. She’s strong, though, and she’s already bouncing back. Steve shakes his
head. Chad’s an idiot as well as an ass if he didn’t realize what he had in
Sophia. 

Just as Steve is turning his attention back to his paperwork, the bell rings
again and Chris walks in. He sets the paper aside and stands, grinning wide.
“Hey, baby,” he greets. He never gets tired of being allowed that easy
familiarity. 

Chris bounds up and kisses him in greeting. “Hey, yourself.” 

“You’re early.” 

“Yeah, figured we could use a little quality time.” He waggles his eyebrows
suggestively. 

Steve laughs. “You’re shameless, you know that?” 

“Yep! Come on and let me show you a good time.” 

Chris grabs his hand and drags him towards the door that opens on the stairs to
his little apartment. He glances over his shoulder once and sees Sophia blowing
him a kiss. He flushes a little, but follows his boyfriend eagerly. 

They clatter up the stairs and into his tiny living room/dining room/kitchen.
Chris shoves him right up against the nearest wall kisses him. He licks across
Steve’s lips until he lets him in and their tongues tangle enthusiastically.
They sink into each other like that for a few minutes before Chris pulls back
and nips his lower lip lightly. “Missed you last night,” he pouts. 

“Oh, poor baby,” Steve returns, “Why don’t you show me how much?” 

Chris smirks devilishly. “Yeah, I can do that.” He teases his way down Steve’s
chest, undoing one button at a time and kissing and licking at each newly
exposed inch of flesh. Steve groans and lets his head fall back against the
wall. 

When Chris reaches the waistline of Steve’s jeans, he swipes his tongue back
and forth just above it tantalizingly. Steve makes a slight whimpering sound in
the back of his throat. “Stop teasing!” 

Chris looks up at him along the line of his torso, his eyes sparkling. “You
know I’m good for it, baby.” He pops the button of Steve’s jeans and opens the
fly, quickly shoving both jeans and boxers down around his knees. Then he
pauses for just a moment. “Never get tired of seeing you hard for me,” he
murmurs. Then he swallows as much of Steve’s cock as he can take. He wraps his
hand around the base and starts bobbing up and down, sucking hard. 

Steve groans and thrusts his hands into Chris’ hair. Chris is doing things with
his tongue that ought to be illegal. Actually, come to think of it, are illegal
in Texas, but who’s counting? Steve’s chest is heaving and he’s muttering an
incoherent string of almost words as Chris drives him crazy. He feels the
tension building from the base of his spine and tries to pull Chris’ head back.
“Gonna. Gonna come,” he pants. Chris just hums around his cock and the
vibration is Steve’s undoing. He’s coming hard, spurting right down Chris’
throat and Chris just sucks him dry. 

The second he’s stopped shaking, Steve drags Chris up off his knees and kisses
him sloppily. He tastes himself in Chris’ mouth and that’s just so dirtywrong
it’s right. He fumbles with Chris jeans, getting them undone remarkably quickly
considering the state of his fine motor skills. He thrusts a hand right down
into Chris’ boxers and wraps it around his still-hard cock. Chris is teetering
on the edge already and it doesn’t take more than a half dozen practiced pulls,
catching the bundle of nerves right under the head each time, to bring him
off. 

Chris sags against him and they both slide down the wall to sprawl in a sated
tangle of limbs. After a few minutes, their heart rates slow back down to
something approaching normal. 

“Hey,” Chris says, his voice kind of sleepy sexy, “Can I borrow some boxers?” 

Steve snorts. “Yeah, sure.” He glances at his watch. “Hurry it up. We’ve got
company coming and we’re late.” 

Chris scrambles to his feet and makes his way into Steve’s bedroom. “What time
is it?” he asks as Steve hears a dresser drawer opening. 

“7:05.” 

“Shit.” 

Steve chuckles a little as he struggles up off the floor. He grabs a handful of
tissues from the little table beside the couch and cleans himself up as best he
can. Fortunately his clothes survived the encounter intact. He’s just managed
to get himself buttoned up and more or less presentable when Chris reemerges
from the bedroom in the same state. They’re both a bit flushed and their hair
could use a good brushing, but there’s no time for that. Steve grins
lasciviously at his boyfriend. 

“Worth being a little late for if you ask me,” he says. 

“Amen, brother.” 

                                      ~*~


Jared wanders into the Java Script a few minutes before seven. He used Google
Maps this time, even though he knew it was close enough to walk, but he didn’t
want to risk being late because of some kind of divine retribution for daring
to stray from the one true map. So, he left early. He found the place with no
problem, breathed a sigh of relief, then took a couple of trips around the
block. He didn’t want to be freakishly early, after all. 

Now he’s only slightly early. He looks around and spots Jensen quickly, almost
lost in a huge, fluffy blue chair. 

“Hey, Jensen!” he greets enthusiastically, excited that he has a chance to talk
to him alone. 

Jensen starts slightly, then relaxes somewhat when he recognizes Jared. “Hey.” 

“What’s up? Chris and Steve here yet?” 

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Oh, they’re here,” he says, “They’re just upstairs.” 

Jared’s confused for a minute and then it hits him. “You mean they’re—oh!” 

“Yeah, they’re kind of like rabbits,” Jensen says, smirking. 

That surprises a laugh out of Jared. “Well, there are worse things, right?” 

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Definitely.” 

Just then, Chris and Steve emerge from the door at the back of the room looking
somewhat the worse for wear. They make their way over and each grab a chair at
the low table. 

“Hey, guys! Jared, glad you could make it,” Chris greets. 

Jared nods, biting his lips to keep from laughing. He figures it wouldn’t
exactly be a good move to laugh at his brand new bandleader. He looks over and
notices that Steve’s cheeks are burning, even as he looks quite pleased with
himself. Chris, however, doesn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed. 

He leans over and stage whispers into Jared’s ear, “Gotta grab a little quality
time with my boy when I can, right?” 

And Jared is officially done. He cracks up, laughing so hard he can barely
breathe and Chris slaps him on the back helpfully. He manages to get himself
under control after a couple of minutes. Jensen is just looking at him, one
eyebrow raised expressively. Steve buries his head in his hands and shakes it
disbelievingly. 

Chris just grins around the table like the whole spectacle is the best thing
he’s seen all day. “Clearly, we all need a drink or six,” he declares. 

Steve perks up at that. “Sophia!” he calls across to the bar. 

A gorgeous brunette who reminds Jared a little bit of Sandy calls back, “Yeah,
boss?” 

“Irish coffee all around. These boys are dangerous sober!” 

A few Irish coffees later Jared is feeling loose limbed and content. He’s
talking to Chris and Steve like he’s known them forever and his hand is resting
on Jensen’s thigh. Because at some point Jensen left his own chair and came to
sit on the arm of Jared’s, slinging an arm around Jared’s neck. 

Jared’s ecstatic at the attention, but there’s something slightly off about the
scenario. He keeps trying to pin it down and he thinks if he were a little more
sober he might be able to figure it out, but as it is, it flits around the
edges of his consciousness, never quite coming into focus. It’s annoying, like
a fly buzzing around his head, right in his peripheral vision, so he bats it
away and concentrates on the pleasant warmth of the points of contact between
him and Jensen. 

At some point Jensen loses his balance and tumbles into Jared’s lap. There are
slurred apologies and raucous laughter, but somehow Jensen doesn’t actually get
up. He shifts and wriggles a bit until he’s curled into Jared’s side. Jared
spends a few awkward moments wondering what to do with his hands until he just
decides to go with it and lets one arm settle comfortably around Jensen’s
shoulders. 

It’s weird and he knows it’s weird and Chris and Steve are giving them shifty
looks that Jared can’t quite read, but Jensen feels so good pressed up against
him that he can’t bring himself to care. After another awkward moment,
conversation starts up again. Jared’s finding it a little hard to concentrate
on the topic at hand, and it’s definitely not just the alcohol. He has to focus
more than a little to suppress the hard-on he’s getting from Jensen’s legs
rubbing across his lap. A time or two he catches the edge of a mischievous
smile on Jensen’s face that makes him pretty sure it’s not accidental. 

A little while later, Jensen arches his neck up, pressing his lips against
Jared’s jaw, just under his ear and murmuring something. Jared can hardly make
out the words over the delicious sensations sliding along his nerves from the
feel of Jensen’s lips on his skin. 

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” 

Jared suppresses a low groan and nods emphatically. The next thing he knows
Jensen’s pulled him up out of the chair and is somehow simultaneously hanging
off of him and propelling him towards the door. 

A second after that, his side is cold and empty with Jensen’s sudden absence.
Chris drags him just out of earshot, speaking too low for Jared to hear, but
his expression is angry and disapproving and he’s making rather violent
gestures in Jared’s direction. Jensen listens calmly until Chris seems to wind
himself down. Then he shakes his head firmly before shoving past his friend and
walking back to Jared. 

Jensen’s lips curl downright evilly as he wraps an arm back around Jared’s
waist. “I believe we had somewhere to be,” he purrs. 

Jared makes a valiant attempt at coherency. “What’s with Chris?” 

Jensen actually clucks his tongue. “Don’t worry about it. He’s such a mother
hen. Let’s just go.” 

His fingers are teasing along the skin just above Jared’s waistband and that’s
really enough incentive for Jared. “Yeah, okay.” 

They make it out the door onto the sidewalk. As they try to decide on a
direction, Jensen mumbles something about it being awkward at his place because
of Chris. Jared points out that his apartment is within walking distance. “But
it’s a mess,” he cautions. 

Jensen rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Not gonna make a lot of difference, is it?” 

Jared swallows hard at the implication, even though it’s not like he’s missed
the point of leaving wrapped around each other. He’s a college graduate after
all. He has the observational skills to figure that one out. And now he’s
rambling ironically to himself. Except Jensen is laughing at him so perhaps his
silent ramble was a little louder than anticipated and damn! Jared is never
accepting alcohol from Steve again. 

It takes them about fifteen minutes to stumble their way the four blocks to
Jared’s apartment. Once he manages to fumble the lock open Jensen just stares
for a minute, seemingly awed by the sheer vastness of the mess. “You weren’t
kidding.” 

“Dude, I warned you, but you didn’t want to hear it.” 

“Is there a bed in here somewhere?” 

And just like that Jared switches gears again. “Oh, hell yes.” He grabs
Jensen’s arm and leads him through the tiny, safe path into the bedroom. Jensen
pushes Jared up against the wall beside the door and shoves his t-shirt up over
his head. Jared is surprised by the forceful move, but he raises his arms over
his head to help the process along nonetheless. 

He ducks his head, intending to kiss Jensen, but Jensen ducks to the side and
starts nibbling his way down Jared’s neck towards his shoulder. He follows,
really wanting to know what those sinful looking lips feel like. This time
Jensen makes himself perfectly clear. He stops Jared by taking his chin in his
hand and looking him straight in the eye. “No,” he says simply and firmly. 

Jared stares into strangely cold green eyes and for a second he sees what looks
like fear. Then he blinks and it’s gone, so he must have imagined it. He
shrugs, confused, but willing to go with pretty much whatever because his
upstairs brain is mostly out of commission. 

Jensen is driving the whole situation and Jared feels like he’s just along for
the ride. It’s a really, really fun ride, though. In no time he finds himself
divested of the rest of his clothes and then Jensen is undressing himself.
Jared tries to help, but finds he’s more of a hindrance to the process. 

When they’re both naked, Jensen sinks to his knees and takes Jared’s cock in
his mouth. Jared groans and throws his head back. It makes a dull thud against
the wall, but the minor pain in his head can’t compete with the major pleasure
of Jensen’s mouth enveloping him. He reaches forward to cradle Jensen’s head in
his hands, but that makes Jensen pull back abruptly. 

He looks up the long plane of Jared’s torso. “No,” he says again. 

Now Jared definitely knows something is tweaked because Jensen just passed the
“control freak” sign doing ninety and he wishes he’d had about three fewer
Irish Coffees so he’d be sober enough to figure this one out, but he didn’t and
he isn’t and he really just wants the warm, wet heat of Jensen’s mouth back on
him. So he nods and gives in again, bracing his hands against the wall
instead. 

Jensen licks and sucks and uses just the barest hint of teeth to drive Jared
insane until he thinks he’s going to explode if he doesn’t come right this
minute. Then suddenly Jensen is crawling up his body and shoving him towards
the bed. It’s still rumpled from this morning because in his wildest fantasies
he never imagined he’d be having someone over for sex when he’s been in town
less than a week, but Jensen doesn’t seem to mind, so Jared doesn’t worry about
it. 

Jensen pushes him forward onto his hands and knees and crawls up close behind
him and Jared may be drunk, but he’s not far enough gone to be okay with that.
He twists around to look at Jensen and now it’s his turn. He shakes his head
firmly. “No. You wanna fuck me, you have to look at me while you do it.”
Jared’s definitely not opposed to trying different positions, but something’s
just off enough about the whole thing that he feels the need to insist.

Jensen’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. He’s clearly never had anyone
questions his methods before. Then his face sets in a mulish expression. Jared
just stares stubbornly back at him. After a few moments of an intense, silent
battle of wills, Jensen shrugs, giving in. 

Jared’s lips twitch in satisfaction and relief. He’s glad he’s not the only one
being led by his dick. He rolls fully onto his back and draws his knees up and
Jensen crawls in between them. He’s already got a condom and lube in his hand.
He tears the foil wrapper open and rolls the latex over his cock as Jared
watches, mesmerized. 

Jensen preps him efficiently, letting Jared know he’s done this more than a few
times, but gently enough that he’s squirming only with pleasure. Then the
fingers are gone and Jensen is pushing Jared’s knees further up and apart. He
guides his slick cock into Jared’s opening and Jared draws his breath in
between clenched teeth at the unbelievable feeling of fullness. 

They’re both still for a moment as Jared adjusts, then he wraps his legs around
Jensen’s waist and arches his hips up, letting Jensen know he’s ready to move.
As with almost everything this evening, Jensen takes the lead, setting up a
rhythm that has Jared whimpering and writhing beneath him. 

For long moments while they move together, Jared locks eyes with Jensen. He
watches emotions flit through the clear green irises too quickly to be
identified, but they’re definitely not all good. Jared gets the feeling Jensen
wouldn’t be too happy if he realized how revealing his eyes are just now. 

Another moment and Jensen reaches in between them, taking Jared’s cock in his
hand and tugging to create an utterly distracting friction. It doesn’t take
either of them long after that. Jensen’s thrusts become erratic and his harsh
breathing picks up a little whine on the exhale. 

Jared’s not really sure who comes first, but it’s so close it really doesn’t
matter. Then Jensen is collapsing half on top of him and they’re both trying to
catch their breath. 

After another moment, Jensen pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom.
He’s about to flop back down when Jared catches sight of his face. 

“Hey,” he says, tenderness lacing through his fucked out voice as he reaches up
a massive hand to catch Jensen’s jaw, “You’re crying.” He rubs his thumb gently
across Jensen’s wet cheek. He’s not sure what he expects after that, but it
isn’t this. 

Jensen swipes the back of his hand across his eyes as though he needs tangible
confirmation of this turn of events. When he feels the tears Jared has pointed
out, he’s suddenly batting Jared’s hand away, backing out of bed and reaching
for his clothes seemingly in a single movement. 

“I gotta go,” he mutters to the t-shirt in his hands before pulling it over his
head. 

Jared is baffled and he struggles to a sitting position. “Hey, wait. Why?” 

Jensen’s managed to pulls his clothes on, however haphazardly, and he stuffs
his feet into his shoes. He doesn’t even look at Jared as he tosses a “See ya,”
over his shoulder and is out the door. 

Jared makes it out of bed and grabs his boxers as he hears one of his boxes hit
the ground with a loud crash. There’s a muffled word that might be “Sorry” and
then his door slamming. By the time Jared makes it out of the bedroom, Jensen’s
gone. 

He stands more than half naked in his living room, staring at the closed front
door in consternation. “What the hell?” he asks the empty apartment. 

***** Part 2 *****
Hey, Jensen. It’s uh, it’s Jared. I just wanted to let you know I had a great
time last night. Um. You seemed kind of upset when you left. I hope it wasn’t
something I did because I had a really good time. I guess I said that. Anyway,
I hope we can do it again soon. I mean – shit – get together again soon. Not
just for sex. I mean – we could – God. Nevermind. I’d just really like to get
to know you better. Um. And I guess I’ll see you at practice too. Gimme a call
back whenever. Bye.
 
                                       *
Hey, Jensen. It’s Jared. I swear I’m not a crazy stalker or anything. I just
wanted to make sure you got my message yesterday, ‘cause I haven’t heard from
you. I mean, it’s cool. It’s only been a day, but sometimes messages get lost.
So, I just wanted to make sure. Yeah. Anyway, call me back. Talk to you later.
 
                                       *
Hey, it’s Jared again. Missed you at practice today. I had to keep rhythm all
by myself. Heh. Yeah, so Chris said you were really swamped at work. Hope
things get less hectic soon. Gimme a call. Bye.
 
                                       *
Hey, Jensen. Listen, I don’t wanna sound paranoid or anything, but it kinda
seems like you’re avoiding me. Could you please just call me back? Thanks.
 
                                       *
Okay, I really am starting to feel like a crazy stalker now. But this is two
practices in a row. I asked Steve and he said you’ve only missed practice once
before in four years and that was because you were really sick. It’s because of
me, isn’t it? Look, I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you. If you’d just
call me we could talk about it, all right? Okay, bye, Jensen.
 
                                      ~*~
Jensen’s fingers shake as he snaps his phone shut on Jared’s latest message.
He’s clearly made a grave miscalculation. Not only isn’t Jared taking the hint,
he’s hanging on with more tenacity than Jensen would have thought possible.
“Uh, is this a bad time?”
Jensen’s head snaps up, and he sees Allie hovering in the doorway.
“What?”
She raises her eyebrows. “Well, you looked like you might be busy trying to
crush your phone with the power of your mind.”
He looks back down at the offending piece of technology and shoves it quickly
into his pocket, simultaneously shutting his tangled mental state away for
later review, and looks back up with a bland smile. “It’s nothing,” he says.
She looks at him skeptically. “Uh huh, sure,” she says, but seemingly decides
to let it go. “Anyway, I came to see if you were up for lunch.”
He glances at his computer screen, and, sure enough, the clock reads 12:15. He
shrugs. He’s learned quickly that giving into Allie’s manic determination to
socialize with him is much easier than resisting. “Sure, why not?”
“Great! I’ll grab my jacket,” she chirps.
Once they settle in at the restaurant – Chinese today – Allie picks the subject
back up, dashing Jensen’s futile hope that she’d forget about it.
“So, wanna tell me what that was about earlier?”
“When?”
She gives him an incredulous look. “When you were using your laser eyes on your
cell phone?”
“Oh. No, not really.”
That startles a laugh from her. “Well, at least you’re honest. It might help to
talk about it though.”
“Doubt it.”
“Come on, try me.”
He breathes out slowly, counting to ten. “Someone keeps calling me and I want
him to stop,” he says, proud of the way his voice stays even.
“Why?” Allie asks, tilting her head to the side.
“I like him.” The honest answer is out of his mouth before he realizes it. He
bites his lips together, desperately wishing he could take it back.
Allie’s giving him that look again, like he’s a rare specimen she doesn’t yet
understand, but clearly intends to study until she does. “You know,” she says,
sounding like she’s choosing her words carefully, “When I like someone, I
usually want them to call me.”
“I don’t like anybody,” he blurts out and goddammit! It’s like he has no
control over what’s coming out of his mouth today. “Listen, can we just stop
talking about this? Please?” He hears the edge of hysteria in his voice and
cringes.
She looks puzzled. “Yeah, sure,” she says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat
and looking around at other tables and the pseudo-Asian décor.
Jensen’s relieved that she doesn’t force the issue, but he doesn’t think he can
sit across from her for the rest of the lunch hour either. He knows he was
letting his freakishness show there a little bit. That hasn’t happened around
anyone other than Chris or Steve for years. Then Jared comes along and knocks
him totally off balance and it’s like he can’t quite keep his mask in place
anymore. His tie feels like it’s trying to strangle him and it’s suddenly far
too hot. He stands up.
“Listen, I’m sorry, but I’m really swamped today. I have to get going.”
“But we haven’t even ordered yet!”
He shrugs, grimacing apologetically. “See you back at the office.”
“Yeah, okay,” she sighs.
He walks out into the Texas sunshine and he can breathe again.
 
                                      ~*~
Jared snaps up his phone the second it starts to ring and flips it open without
checking to see who’s calling.
“Hello?” he says breathlessly.
“Hey, sweetie,” says a feminine voice.
“Oh,” Jared says, his shoulders slumping and he knows he’s failing at keeping
the disappointment out of his voice, “Hey, Sandy.”
“Wow, I feel loved.”
He sighs. “Sorry. It’s not you. It’s just, I was hoping—never mind.”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting away with that. You were hoping what? Jared,” she
pauses and he can practically hear the wheels in her head turning from here,
“Have you met someone?”
“No! Yes. I don’t know. Maybe?”
“You either have or you haven’t, honey. Now which is it?”
“Yes, but—“ he breaks off with a frustrated noise.
“But?”
“Well, we, uh, we hooked up, but that was two weeks ago and ever since then he
won’t pick up his phone or return any of my calls and I don’t know what I did
or how to make it better.”
“Okay, back up. Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
Sandy’s got that no bullshit allowed tone in her voice that’s always made Jared
a little afraid of her, even if she is a tiny person. He settles in and tells
her all about Jensen and too much liquor and everything else.
She listens along until he runs himself down, then says, “Oh, Jay, I’m sorry.
That’s a bit of a mess. You really like him?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then you definitely shouldn’t let him go without a fight. Not to mention
you can’t just give up the band. If he won’t pick up the phone, go see him.”
“You really think so?” Jared feels the stirrings of hope in his chest at having
a possible course of action to follow.
“I do,” Sandy says decisively.
“Okay. I’ll go see him.”
“Good. So, moving on, how’s the new job?”
“Well, being a fact checker for the Richardson Gazette is just the kind of high
pressure, fast paced job I imagined getting with my Journalism major,” he says,
rolling his eyes and leaning back against the couch cushions, relaxing for the
first time in days. “But what about you? How are things back h—in San Antone?”
“Good, good. Everybody misses you like crazy, of course. Why’d you have to go
and graduate a year early, anyway?”
He laughs. “I’m just ornery like that.”
“Anyway, I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with Justin. I know it’s
summer and everything, but he’s acting like senior year is gonna last forever.
I think the real world will be a bit of a shock.”
“Yeah, no kidding. You think he’s gonna man up and propose soon?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. I love him to pieces, but I don’t think he’s ready
for that kind of commitment.”
“Are you?”
“Maybe?”
“Well, sweetheart, there’s no rush you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I just had this idea that everything was going to work
out perfectly, you know? I’d meet Mr. Right in college and we’d get married
right out of college. Now I don’t know if that’s going to happen or if I even
want it.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Jared assures her, “Just don’t forget to have a little
fun, okay?”
“Well, it won’t be easy without you are your sugar induced crazy plans, but
I’ll try.”
“Good.”
“Now I think you need to go get your man.”
“Oh, God, wish me luck!”
“Please, with the puppy eyes of doom, you won’t need it.”
 
                                      ~*~
“Come on, Jensen! Open the door. I know you’re in there!”
Chris rubs his temples as the banging starts again. Jared has been outside,
knocking and yelling, for the last ten minutes. Clearly he isn’t going to go
away until one of the neighbors calls the cops. So Chris gives in and jerks the
door open.
Jared freezes mid-knock and has the good grace to look a bit chagrined. “Oh,
hey, Chris,” he says.
“Look, Jared,” Chris says wearily, “He’s actually not home right now, but if he
was, you’d be freaking him the hell out.”
Jared just gapes at him.
Chris sighs. “Come on, son. Let’s step outside and chat for a bit.”
Jared falls back a couple of steps as Chris crowds him out onto the tiny front
porch. They sit down side by side and look out at the front yard in silence for
a few moments. Finally, Chris speaks.
“Listen, what do you want from Jensen anyway?”
He feels Jared tense up beside him. When he speaks, his voice is carefully
polite. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.”
And they are so not going there. “Jensen’s been my best friend since grade
school. His business is my business. You’d best just accept that here and now.”
Jared huffs out an offended breath. “Fine. Well then he could return my calls
for a start.”
“All twenty-seven of them?” Chris teases gently, trying to soothe Jared’s ego
so he might listen to reason.
It seems to work because Jared laughs wryly. “I guess I have been calling a
lot,” he concedes.
No shit, is what Chris wants to say, but he can’t imagine that going over well.
Instead, he asks again. “So, what do you want from him?”
Jared sighs, burying his head in his hands. “I really like him,” he admits. He
lifts his head and pierces Chris with an anguished stare. “And I thought—“ he
breaks off and looks away again. When he speaks again, it’s barely audible. “I
thought he liked me too.”
Chris nods sympathetically and claps a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “You’re not
the first one,” he says.
“So what should I do?”
“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you here. Like I said, Jensen’s my best friend.
So he’s the one I’m looking after. But I like you, Jared. If you’ve got a lick
of sense in your head, you’ll listen to what I’m saying. All right?”
He waits for Jared to nod before continuing.
“Right now, you need to back off. Jen, he’s—he’s skittish and you’re doing a
really good obsessive stalker impression. Just cool it. Stop calling him. Come
to practice. Hang out with us, drink some beers, take it easy. If we’re lucky
we can make it work as a band. Anything more than that, well. That would be up
to Jensen. All right?”
Jared’s jaw clenches momentarily and he looks ready to argue again. Then he
takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
Chris manages to keep his sigh of relief internal. “All right, good. Then I’ll
see you for practice in a couple days.”
“Okay. See ya, Chris.” Jared stands and heads back to his car, waving just
before he gets in.
Chris waves back and then goes inside.
“Is he gone?”
Chris levels his gaze at Jensen, peeking out of his bedroom door. “Yeah, Jen,
he’s gone.”
Jensen smiles in relief. “Okay, good. Thanks, Chris.”
Chris shakes his head. “It’s not right, what you’re doing to him.”
Jensen shrugs helplessly. “I know. I just can’t—it’s the only thing I know how
to do.”
“I know, Jen. I hate to say I told you so, but, well, I did.”
“I had to, okay? He wasn’t like—He made me feel—He made me feel.”
Jensen looks stricken, but Chris is suddenly filled with hope. All the guys
Jensen has fucked, not one of them has gotten to him the way Jared has. If
things play out just right, like a perfectly balanced house of cards, Jensen
might finally be able to move on from what happened. He might finally really
heal instead of just hiding.
Chris tries to quell his optimism. This isn’t a fairytale. Jensen isn’t just
going to get better. But what if he did? Chris brutally cuts off his
imagination as it begins to create a picture of what that might be like. It
would hurt too much if it didn’t happen. But he can’t quite get rid of the
stubborn little glow in his chest telling him that this time is different.
Jared is different.
 
                                      ~*~
Jared goes home and starts unpacking, something he neglected to do while he was
busy going all crazy stalker on Jensen. Well, he didn’t think he was as bad as
all that, but apparently Jensen had a different opinion. As did Chris.
He reflects on the situation while he tries to determine how best to fit a
lifetime of possessions into an apartment better suited to Polly Pocket than a
man of Jared’s stature. His instincts tell him to keep calling and banging on
doors, but clearly that’s not quite the solid plan he thought it was.
Jensen doesn’t like that. Jensen requires a different approach. Actually, if he
understood Chris correctly, Jensen needs him to back off, conceal all signs of
lustful feelings, and then maybe they can be friends.
Clearly Jensen has more baggage than Louis Vuitton, and it’s probably not as
pretty. If Jared were a sane person, he’d cut his losses. He nods emphatically
and moves his armchair for the fourth time, trying to achieve better feng shui.
Or something.
Right, okay, nobody ever accused Jared of being particularly balanced. And he
just can’t stop thinking about Jensen. Not just his lips, his freckles, and his
body – although those thoughts are definitely present – but him. That wild
creature Jared caught a glimpse of while he was drumming, shut away behind
green glass eyes. His calculating seduction – for Jared now realizes that’s
what happened – followed by tears and a flash of panic.
Jensen’s an enigma and Jared is hopelessly fascinated. He sighs and rearranges
his dishes. He’s just going to have to take Chris’ advice and see how it goes.
It’s clearly the only way he’s ever going to see Jensen again. And Jared’s a
little worried by how much he wants to see Jensen. All the time preferably.
He alphabetizes DVDs while he tries to find the hidden reserve of inner calm
he’s going to need to have even the slightest hope of pulling this off.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Breakfast Club, Breakfast on Pluto . . . well, it
is the most important meal of the day.
He thinks of the place he goes when he plays bass. The rhythmic rumble of the
low notes as his fingers pluck the strings. It’s like solid ground. If he can
just hold on to that feeling when he’s with Jensen he thinks he has a tiny
chance of succeeding. Tiny, but still there.
Jared grins. He maybe even whistles a jaunty tune as he starts unrolling his
posters from college to decide which, if any, of them belong on the walls of
his grown-up apartment.
 
                                      ~*~
Chris is surprised and pleased in equal measure when Jared actually takes his
advice and backs off. He stops calling and doesn’t come by the house or the
Java Script for a whole week and miraculously, next band practice, Jensen
actually shows up.
He’s in a foul mood, just plays his drums and stares straight ahead at the wall
in front of him the rest of the time, but he’s there. Jared shuffles around
uncomfortably, looking like he’s trying to take up less space. He barely even
looks at Jensen, watching his hands for the beat and avoiding eye contact.
Chris tries to put the kid at ease, but after a few pained attempts at small
talk, Steve gives him a look which he takes to mean, “Just shut up and play
your music.” Sound advice that he takes to heart.
They manage to limp through that practice and another one just like it. The
third practice since “The Incident,” as Chris refers to it in his head, the
tension level decreases ever so slightly. Jensen seems to be feeling more at
ease now that Jared has made it through two whole practices without jumping on
top of him or humping his leg or whatever.
Now that Jensen’s no longer glaring daggers at the wall, Jared loosens up a bit
as well. He still doesn’t really talk to Jensen though. He talks to Chris and
Steve. Sometimes Jensen talks to Chris and Steve at the same time. It’s an
awkward little dance of almost communication, but Chris isn’t about to quibble
with progress, however small.
 
                                      ~*~
It’s half an hour from closing one Friday night when Steve’s cell phone rings
unexpectedly. He leans the push broom against the wall and fishes it out of his
pocket.
“Jared?”
“Yeah. Hey, Steve.”
“Um, what’s up?”
“Oh, you know, not much. What are you doing?”
“Working.”
“Oh, shit! Sorry! I didn’t think.”
“Hey, no worries. We’re just getting ready to close up.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh. So did you need something?”
“Well. Heh. I’m about to climb the walls I’m so bored. And y’all are pretty
much the only people I know. Well, the only people I know that I’d actually
want to hang out with. So. I just thought I’d see what you were doing.”
Steve grins and takes pity on the kid. “Well, Chris was gonna come over and jam
for a bit. You want in?”
“Oh, but aren’t y’all—I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt. Um, anything.”
Steve coughs in embarrassment. “Oh my god! We do other things besides have
sex!”
That earns him a skeptical look from Sophia as she looks up from wiping down
the counter. He glares back.
“Uh, well—“ Jared says.
“We do! Shut up! Just come over to my place in half an hour. And bring your
bass.”
Jared laughs. “Fine, but if the upstairs is rockin’ I won’t come a’knockin’.”
Steve rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify that with a response.
 
                                      ~*~
Halfway through summer and they’re really starting to settle in as a band – and
as friends. Chris knows Jared hasn’t forgotten Jensen, though, or gotten over
him or whatever. Every once in a while he’ll catch this look in Jared’s eyes.
It’s always gone almost before he can catch it, but he knows he’s not imagining
it.
Then one practice Jared’s all twitchy and nervous. They play hard for a couple
of hours and he’s on as usual, but his eyes are shifty. As they’re cleaning up
and packing up afterwards, Jared snaps his case closed and ambles up to Jensen.
Chris holds his breath, unsure, but hopeful.
“Hey, Jensen?” Jared asks, shifting his feet a bit.
Jensen’s crouched down, examining some minute detail of the bass drum. He turns
his head to look over his shoulder without standing up. “Yeah?”
“Umm, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over and hang out—“ he
glances up and Chris and Chris desperately gestures sideways with his head,
hoping Jared gets the message “Umm, you know, this weekend or something? Watch
the game? You know, if you want.”
Chris sighs in relief. Jared caught the drift. You can’t just ask Jen to hang
out. He needs time to plan and schedule. Chris waits on tenterhooks for his
answer. He figures Jared can’t be any more nervous than him.
Jensen purses his lips, turns back to fiddle with the drum again. Then he
shrugs. “Sure, why not?”
Jared’s grin is blinding. “Okay. Great! I’ll see you around seven?”
Jensen nods. “Seven it is.”
 
                                      ~*~
At 6:45 on the night that Jensen is coming over, Jared is pacing and nervous.
He straightens non-existent clutter and wipes away imaginary dust. He’s long
since unpacked the boxes that tripped them up on Jensen’s first visit. He
shivers at the heat of that memory, then bats it away. He’s never going to make
it through a whole evening in Jensen’s company if he’s thinking about that.
At 6:55 he forces himself to stop and take a few deep breaths. This is just a
relaxed evening with his platonic friend. Who fucked him and then freaked out.
Yeah, no pressure at all.
At 6:58 there’s no more time to freak out because the doorbell rings. Jared
waits for a couple of seconds before opening the door – just long enough that
it doesn’t seem like he was waiting with his hand on the doorknob.
He has to force himself not to stare. A couple of months of exposure have done
nothing to dull Jared’s perception of Jensen’s hotness. It’s deeply unfair and
he feels like he should have built up an immunity or something, but Jensen
takes his breath away every single time.
“Hey, Jensen,” he says, nodding casually and locking all his lustful thoughts
away in a tiny, dark closet at the back of his mind. Okay, all except for one
or two. He’s only human.
“Hey.” Jensen nods back as he walks in. Jared watches him take in the clean and
unpacked apartment. He glances at Jared like he wants to make a comment, but he
doesn’t.
Jared gets it. If Jensen acknowledges that he’s been here before, he
acknowledges that whole not just friends thing.
“You want a beer, man?”
“Sure.”
Jared grabs a couple of bottles from the refrigerator and uncaps them. He hands
one to Jensen and they settle in on the couch. Jensen sits on one end, leaving
plenty of room, but he’s not pressed up against the arm or anything. Jared
counts that as a victory. He sits down on the other end, well clear of Jensen’s
personal bubble.
As the game goes on, Jared yells at the screen. Jensen doesn’t, but once or
twice Jared catches a bemused expression directed at him. The fondly confused
look warms Jared from the inside. It’s not much, but it gives him hope.
 
                                      ~*~
The next week Jared asks Jensen if he wants to come again and it feels like a
small miracle when he accepts. It becomes a regular thing. Sometimes they watch
whatever game happens to be on, sometimes they play video games. Jared’s tends
to flail around when he plays video games. Jensen plays with unflappable
concentration, but Jared thinks he enjoys it nonetheless.
Jared mostly enjoys Jensen. He’s trying really hard not to get his hopes up,
but he’s getting that fond look from Jensen more and more often. And once, oh.
Once Jared beat Jensen at Halo and he risked some light teasing. Jensen rolled
his eyes and shoved Jared in the shoulder with this cute little smile on his
face. Jared had to concentrate extra hard not to tackle Jensen and kiss him
senseless that time.
So now, Jared and Jensen are friends. Jared has managed to worm his way past
that first layer of defenses. He’s not quite sure how to go about the rest of
his stealth attack and he knows that from here on out it’s going to be a lot
harder – because up until now it’s been a cake walk, really – but Jensen is
worth it.
 
                                      ~*~
Far enough into the summer that the first back-to-school sales have started
popping up, Chris books them their first gig. It’s at a local bar that’ll pay
them in free beer, but the place usually draws a crowd and exposure is
exposure. So that’s how Collin Street Secret comes out. Metaphorically
speaking.
It’s an unwritten law that every small town must have at least one twenty-four
hour diner and said diner must serve breakfast for all of those hours.
Richardson is no exception to this rule, which is how Jared finds himself at
Mama Steve’s Pancake House with the band at 3 a.m.
They’ve just finished the gig and it was awesome. They’re all more than a
little drunk and haven’t yet burned off the adrenaline of playing in front of
an audience. Jared eyes his enormous stack of pancakes with unabashed delight.
He liberally applies the maple syrup, then stuffs a huge bite into his mouth.
He groans in appreciation. “These are awesome,” he enthuses around his mouthful
of pancake.
“Just like Mama used to make, huh, kid?” Chris says.
Jared shrugs, suddenly feeling awkward and wrong. “Yeah, I guess.”
Steve rolls his eyes and shoves a forkful of pancakes into Chris’ mouth.
“Please don’t mention mothers when we are this drunk. That’s just wrong.”
Chris grabs Steve’s syrup-sticky fingers and licks them playfully. “You love
it, baby.”
Jensen rolls his eyes and swallows his bite before speaking. “Geez, get a
room,” he teases.
The weird tension leaves Jared as the other three banter around him. He loves
how easy Jensen is with Chris. He’s always at his most natural with his best
friend and now, loose limbed with alcohol and weariness, he’s much less
carefully controlled than usual. Jared hopes it means that Jensen is coming to
trust him that he’s allowed to see this.
Chris tosses a bit of pancake at Jensen, hitting him squarely in the nose.
Jensen retaliates, but accidentally hits Steve instead. Before long, pancake
missiles are flying indiscriminately across the table and all four of them are
laughing uproariously.
Okay. Jared, Steve, and Chris are laughing uproariously. Jensen is merely
grinning, but that’s sort of his version of uproarious laughter anyway.
They leave a ridiculously large tip to make up for the mess and the disturbance
and Jared goes home thinking this is the best night he’s ever had. Okay, on up
there on the list anyway. He’s always been a fan of hyperbole.
 
                                      ~*~
Jensen is getting uncomfortably comfortable with hanging out at Jared’s. He’s
emotionally damaged, not stupid. He catches more of the longing looks on his
new friend’s face than Jared probably realizes. He knows Jared is still into
him, but Jared isn’t saying so. Jensen is deeply familiar with the land of “if
you don’t say it, it doesn’t exist,” so he lets it go. It’s for the good of the
band. At least that’s what he tells himself.
“I need a new couch,” Jared announces out of the blue, right in the middle of a
round of Madden.
“Um, yeah,” Jensen agrees easily, “The frat house reject is not a good look.”
“Ouch! You could have said something.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “It’s rude to insult your host’s furniture.”
Jared laughs. “Please. I think we’re past the overly polite crap. So you wanna
help me pick out a new one?”
“Dude, you’re just as gay as me. Can’t you be your own interior design
consultant?”
“Have you seen my apartment? The one you’re sitting in the middle of?”
“Good point. Okay, we’ll go to Ikea.”
“Awesome! Next Saturday?”
“How ‘bout tomorrow?”
Jensen freezes for a second after the words leave his mouth. He’s more likely
to make plans for next year than the next day. What the hell? Apparently
Jared’s thinking the same thing because there’s a long pause before he
responds.
“Yeah, sure, tomorrow. I guess it’s a big enough home furnishings emergency,”
he says, sounding perfectly normal. Maybe he didn’t catch the weirdness after
all. Yeah, right. But Jensen’s more concerned about why he said it in the first
place. Jared makes him do the strangest things.
Which is how he finds himself staring down Chris’ look of offended cowboy
dignity at quarter ‘till way too fucking early the next morning.
“A man’s truck is an extension of his soul,” Chris says incredulously.
Jensen hasn’t had his coffee yet and he can barely summon the energy for an eye
roll. “Well your soul is great for hauling couches. Come on, gimme the keys.
You can take my car if you need to go anywhere.”
Chris draws back with a look of horror on his face. “Oh, no. I’m not going
anywhere in a Ford fucking Focus.”
“It’s a perfectly respectable vehicle.”
“Yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.” He refuses
to take the keys Jensen holds out and Jensen leaves them on the counter. He
does, however, grudgingly dig up the keys to his F150 and hand them over.
“Thanks!”
“If there’s a single molecule of paint out of place when you bring her back,
there’ll be hell to pay!”
“Yes, mother,” Jensen answers as he heads for the door, keys in one hand,
enormous travel mug of coffee in the other.
He picks Jared up and they make the half hour drive north to Frisco. When they
climb out in front of the giant blue and yellow building, Jared shakes himself
like a dog shaking off excess water.
“Seriously? The President George Bush Turnpike? I think I need a shower.”
Jensen shakes his head, stifling a laugh and Jared’s antics. “This is Texas,
Jay. You might wanna get used to it.”
Jared gives one last shake of his shaggy head. “Whatever, dude. Let’s just find
me a sofa.”
They walk inside and Jared’s eyes widen comically. He spins around, taking in
the entranceway. “Oh my God. I’m already lost!”
“No, you’re not,” Jensen tells him and steers him in the direction of the
escalator.
When they get up to the display floor, Jared seriously looks like he might
hyperventilate.
“Relax, Jared. It’s just furniture.”
“A lot of furniture.”
“That’s the general idea. Just stay with me. You’re man enough to handle this,
okay?”
Jared nods, looking about five. “Yeah, okay.”
They find their way into a vast sea of sofas and Jared’s panic dissipates. He
starts running around and bouncing on the cushions of every single one, yelling
for Jensen to, “Come try this one! It’s awesome!”
Jensen claps a hand over his eyes, kind of wishing he could disappear. But at
the same time, it’s maybe the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
“Come on, Jen! You’re going to be using it almost as much as me. Help me out,”
Jared insists.
Jensen waves a mental white flag and helps Jared try out couches, although much
more calmly. After a considerable amount of cushion bouncing, they settle on a
simple, but comfortable model. Jared tries to convince him that the horrendous
floral print is a good idea, but Jensen holds firm and talks him down to a
jaunty, yet masculine black and white stripe.
Jensen also talks him out of all the lamps and knick-knacks Jared picks up and
insists he has to have.
“It only takes special Ikea light bulbs, Jared,” he points out.
“Oh. But it’s so cute!”
“It’s a light fixture, not a puppy.”
“Exactly! I won’t have to feed it or walk it or get it fixed.”
“You’ll have to feed it Ikea light bulbs.”
Jared pouts at him. “You’re no fun.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep you from spending your rent
money.”
“Good point.”
However, Jared absolutely cannot be talked out of Swedish meatballs, Swedish
coffee, and Swedish chocolate at the checkout.
“I’m expanding my horizons,” he insists.
Jensen throws up his hands. “Oh, fine. At least it’s not a lamp.”
“I’ll share,” Jared says, grinning.
Jensen rolls his eyes, but he feels an inexplicable flush creeping up his neck.
He goes to pull the truck around while Jared finishes paying. They get the
couch strapped into the bed and head home.
“So, doing anything this weekend besides helping out interior decorating
challenged friends?”
Jensen shrugs comfortably. “Nothing much. I have to go to Sunday dinner with my
parents.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Jared says.
Jensen grunts. “Not really.”
“Why?”
“It’s just like a weekly inquisition. Am I eating? How’s work? How’s Chris?
Make any new friends?”
Jared doesn’t answer right away and when Jensen glances over he’s staring at
his lap, biting his lips together.
“You should be grateful they care about you that much,” he says softly.
Jensen is stung by his accusatory tone. “I don’t think that’s any of your
business,” he says.
Jared shrugs, a stubborn tension about his mouth. “Whatever. Forget I said
anything.” He turns slightly away from Jensen and stares out the window.
The silence in the cab is distinctly uncomfortable for a few minutes as they
rolls down the highway. Jensen feels inexplicably guilty, like he should
apologize to Jared. But he doesn’t even know what he’d be apologizing for.
Finally he settles on making a comment about some stupid reality show they
watched a couple of weeks ago.
Jared accepts the peace offering and by the time they’re manhandling the couch
up the stairs to Jared’s apartment, it seems like everything’s back to normal.
 
                                      ~*~
It’s a busy day at the Java Script and Steve is sure he’s walked five miles
back and forth across the relatively small interior. Jared came in a couple of
hours ago with a morose expression that looked out of place on his usually
sunny face. He ordered his usual cardiac arrest in a cup with whipped cream and
sprinkles and took up residence in one of the most isolated corners of the
shop.
Steve’s been watching him with concern for most of the afternoon, but he’s
honestly been too swamped to go over and talk to his friend. Finally, business
dies down enough that Sophia can handle it on her own. Steve makes a beeline
for Jared’s corner. He pulls a chair right up in front of Jared, who looks up,
seeming startled to be faced with another human being.
“So, you want to tell me what’s got you looking like somebody ran over your
puppy?” he asks.
“Umm?” Jared replies.
“Oh, come on, Jared. You’ve been camped out here for over two hours and all
you’ve done is look at your cell phone and put it away about a million times.”
Steve pauses, then asks, “Is this about Jensen?”
Jared’s bewildered expression changes to a sullen glare. “No. Not everything is
about Jensen, okay?”
Steve sighs, feeling like an ass. “Sorry, man. I just thought—“
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Jared says, his expression softening.
“Well then, what’s going on?”
Jared eyes slide away. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.
Steve just stares until Jared is forced to meet his eyes again. “It’s clearly
something, so why don’t you just go ahead and tell me about it and save us both
the runaround?”
A wry smile lights Jared’s face for a second. “Yeah, all right.”
Steve waits expectantly and Jared sighs and shifts in his seat. Finally, he
says, “It’s my mom’s birthday.”
Steve cocks his head in confusion. He doesn’t know exactly what he was
expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Umm, okay?” When Jared doesn’t volunteer any
further information, he wracks his brain. “Did you forget to send her a present
or something?”
“No.”
“Well, the day’s not over, so I know you didn’t forget to call her.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t call her? Why?”
Jared’s silent a long time. Steve’s almost decided to prod him again when he
speaks so softly Steve has to strain to catch the words. “My parents kicked me
out. And, um, disowned me. When I told them I was gay.”
Something tightens in Steve’s chest. He places a hand on Jared’s arm, trying to
offer comfort. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Jared shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but his eyes tell the real story. “I knew
they would. Or, I was pretty sure anyway. That’s why I didn’t tell them till I
already had a job and an apartment here.”
Now that he’s started talking, it’s like the floodgates are open. Steve
listens, his heart breaking for Jared. This is Texas and it’s not like his
story is that unusual, but that doesn’t make it any less awful. Steve’s own
parents are liberal Californians and he can’t imagine what it must be like to
have the people who raised you hate you just because of who you love.
“I hoped maybe they’d surprise me, but I didn’t want to take a chance. And I
was right. I just couldn’t keep it a secret anymore, you know? I knew since I
was fifteen or so. All my friends knew. Even Jeff and Megan – my brother and
sister – knew. Jeff helped me move my stuff up here, but I don’t wanna cause
trouble for either of them with our parents. So I figure I’ll just disappear.
It’s for the best.”
Jared looks at him with sad eyes, seeming very young.
“God, Jay,” Steve says softly, “I’m sorry.”
Another shrug.
“Listen, this is your family now, okay?”
“Steve, you barely know me.”
Steve shakes his head. “Sometimes that doesn’t matter.”
Jared nods, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “Thank you.”
 
                                      ~*~
Jensen is fiddling absently with his drumsticks, sitting next to Chris on the
couch in the basement. Steve asked them to show up early to practice, said it
was something about Jared, but so far he’s just pacing and looking really
upset.
“Steve,” he says carefully, drawing out the single syllable, “You have to
actually tell us what the problem is before we can talk about it.”
Steve stops pacing and looks at him for a long moment. Finally he sighs. “It’s
Jared. He’s not—he’s not—“ He starts pacing again.
“He’s not what?” Chris asks, clutching the arm of the couch and sounding like
he’s at the end of his rope.
Steve throws up his hands. “He’s not sparkly anymore!”
Chris raises an eyebrow. “Did you just describe our 6’4” bass player with arms
the size of tree trunks as ‘sparkly?’”
Steve glares at his boyfriend. “No, I said he’s not sparkly. We have to do
something!”
“Okay, first of all, like five fewer espressos for you tomorrow. Secondly, it’s
not like we have any idea what’s wrong.” Steve gets a shifty look on his face
and Chris raises an eyebrow. “You know what’s wrong?”
Steve’s shoulders slump. “Yeah, but it’s not really my place to tell you.”
“Then how are we supposed to fix it?”
“We can’t. We just need to get his mind off it or something.”
“Well, shit. That’s easy enough. We’ll just take him out and buy him shots
‘till he can’t tell which way is up. That’ll be plenty distracting.”
Steve eyes Chris skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“Why not? He tell you he’s an alcoholic or something?”
“Dude, no! Nothing like that.”
“Then it’s a problem that liquor can solve. At least for tonight.” Chris looks
over at Jensen, who has been watching the back and forth and keeping his mouth
shut. “What do you say, Jen? Up for ditching practice and hitting the bar?”
And now that Jensen stops to think about it, he realizes he hasn’t gone out to
the bars in weeks. Maybe longer. Good enough reason as any to agree. Not that
he’s particularly invested in Steve’s plan to cheer Jared up. Honestly, the guy
is far too cheery as it is. He’s just really into the liquor portion of the
plan. And hey, if he’s lucky maybe he’ll find a hot guy who bats for the home
team while he’s at it. “Sure, that’s cool.”
When Jared arrived a few minutes later, Chris shoves him right back out the
door. “Change of plans. We’re going out.”
Jared shoots him a confused look as he’s shoved up the basement steps. “What
about practice?”
“Playing hooky,” Steve chimes in helpfully.
Jensen suppresses a laugh and Jared’s bewildered expression.
It’s pretty early by bar standards when they get to one of Chris’ favorite
dives, but there’s a pretty good crowd already. They snag a table and a pitcher
of beer and just shoot the shit for a couple of hours. Jared seems all right to
Jensen, if a bit more subdued than usual. He hopes this means Chris’ plan was a
good one. Not that he was worried, because he wasn’t.
As they sit and empty one pitcher of beer and then another the bar fills up
around them. Jensen gets up to go to the bathroom. On his way back he catches a
guy at the bar giving him the once over. He returns the look, a cocky smirk
settling on his lips out of habit. Looks like it’s his lucky night.
He snags an empty stool next to the guy. “Hey, buy you a drink?” he says.
The guy smiles not-at-all innocently. “Sure.”
Jensen settles into the flirting easily. He’s about to suggest they go
“someplace quieter” when suddenly Chris shoves his way in between Jensen and
his soon-to-be conquest.
“Umm, Chris?” he asks, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Yeah, Jen?” Chris responds, not moving.
“We were kind of in the middle of something.”
“No we weren’t.” Chris says, then turns to signal the bartender. “Can we get
another pitcher?”
“Not you and me, Chris. Me and—“ damn it, he’s forgotten the guy’s name
already.
“Luke,” the guy supplies, looking annoyed.
“Right, Luke. So, if you don’t mind,” he trails off.
“Oh, yeah, sure. No problem,” Chris says, but makes no move to take the pitcher
that the bartender just placed in front of him. “So, I was thinking, you
remember that new song I played for you last week? I think we really need to
clean up the bridge.”
Jensen takes a deep, calming breath. “That’s great, Chris, and I’d be happy to
work on it. Later.”
“Right, so I think if we went to C instead of D from the G it would really give
it a different feel.”
Jensen looks over towards their table, hoping for some help. Jared is staring
dejectedly at the table, Steve is looking straight at him with an expression
like he just heard Jensen enjoys drowning kittens, and there’s still a half-
full pitcher of beer on the table. He sighs.
Honestly, one night stands take an awful lot of effort. It’s been a long week
and his friends are acting really weird. Jensen figures he can hook up with
somebody next weekend just as easily. “Listen, Luke, I’ll catch you later,
okay?”
Luke looks at him like he’s grown a third eye. “Umm, okay.”
Jensen follows Chris back to their table and the tension lifts noticeably.
Steve goes back to drinking his beer and groping his boyfriend, acting for all
the world like the weirdness never happened. Jared’s still a little twitchy,
but he offers Jensen a small smile he can’t quite decipher. Everyone is on
crack, he decides and has another beer.
 
                                      ~*~
Allie has been bugging Jensen about meeting his other friends.
“I feel like the friend outcast!” she complains.
“We’re office buddies,” Jensen reminds her, not unkindly.
“Yeah, which means friends!”
“Office friends.”
She sighs dramatically. “You’re ashamed of me! That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t
want your cool friends to meet me.”
“No, that’s not it,” he says, starting to feel frustrated.
“Okay, then when can I meet them?”
Jensen waves a little white flag of surrender in his mind.
“Fine, fine. How ‘bout Saturday?”
“Absolutely. Name a place and I’ll be there!”
 
                                      ~*~
Steve does a double take when Jensen walks into the Java Script with a girl. He
walks up to them, looking rather awkward. The girl, however, looks delighted.
“Hey, guys,” Jensen says.
Steve’s sitting with Jared and Chris. They’ve just been waiting for Jensen for
their semi-regular Saturday night Java Script hangout.
“Hey, Jensen,” Chris says, “Who’s your friend?”
There’s an edge of hostility in Chris’ voice and Steve cringes inwardly. He
gets Chris’ protectiveness, but at the same time he’s always trying to pounce
on totally innocent people just for infringing on Jensen’s personal bubble.
“This is Allison. We work together.”
She sketches a wave beside him. “Call me Allie,” she says, still smiling, but
starting to look slightly uncomfortable when Chris’ forbidding expression
doesn’t dissipate.
Steve glances around and is startled to see that Jared has joined Chris with
the scowling. He sighs. Clearly it’s up to him to show some manners to the poor
girl who’s done nothing wrong other than show up with Jensen.
He holds out a hand to shake. “Hey, I’m Steve. Can I get you a drink?”
She darts a glance at Chris and Jared. “You have anything stronger than
coffee?” she asks softly.
Steve chuckles. “I think what you need is the Java Script’s specialty. One
Irish Coffee coming right up!”
She looks ridiculously grateful. “Thanks. Umm, are they always like that?”
Steve shrugs. “Well, Chris is. I don’t know what’s up with Jared, though.”
He realizes that’s a lie the second it leaves his mouth. Jared is still
completely infatuated with Jensen, even if he’s managed to conceal that from
the man himself, and they’ve been stuck in friends gear going nowhere fast for
months now. He passes behind Jared’s chair on his way to get Allie’s drink and
drops down to whisper in his ear. “He’s gay, you idiot. And if you don’t screw
up he might even be gay for you. So, play nice.”
Jared jumps a little and whips his head around to face Steve. He opens his
mouth to say something, but Steve shakes his head and keeps on walking. By the
time Steve gets back to the table, Jared has left Chris alone on the scowling
brigade and is tentatively engaging Allie in conversation.
As it turns out, they share a love of hyperactivity and talking like ferrets on
speed. That lessens the conversational burden on everyone else considerably and
Steve, Jensen, and Chris look on like it’s a fast paced ping pong match for a
little while.
Steve is relieved to have averted a catastrophe of indeterminate nature.
Jensen’s gone from looking terrified to almost relaxed and Chris seems to have
decided that this girl isn’t Satan’s little sister, so all in all Steve counts
the night a success. As everyone is standing and stretching, preparing to go
home, he casually invites Allie to come by again sometime. Jared nods
enthusiastically and after a moment, Chris shrugs casually.
“Sure, yeah,” he says.
Steve grins at that, fully prepared to reward his boyfriend properly for his
restraint.
 
                                      ~*~
It’s Friday night and Jensen is at Jared’s, of course. He’s not quite sure why
he keeps coming. Being around Jared make him feel twitchy and restless, like he
doesn’t fit right in his skin. He doesn’t like it except that, obscurely, he
kind of does. He’s not really comfortable admitting that to himself, so he
pushes the thought away.
Tonight they’re not watching sports or playing video games. They’re watching
the premiere of the 875th cycle of America’s Next Top Model. Jensen’s eyebrows
hit his hairline when Jared announces his plan.
“Seriously, Jay?”
Jared looks at him reproachfully. “Jensen, Jensen, Jensen,” he intones, shaking
his head, “You call yourself a gay man and you don’t know the wonders of Tyra
and her minions?”
Jensen tries the single eyebrow raise, but Jared just keeps giving him this
baleful look. He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine, supermodel
wannabes it is.”
A thousand-watt grin lights Jared’s face. “Awesome! I’ll make the popcorn.”
Jensen spends more time watching Jared than the TV. He tells himself this is
because anything would be more amusing than Tyra Banks telling prepubescent
girls how to be models, but really he just likes watching Jared. That fact is
getting harder and harder to ignore.

Sure, Jared is gorgeous. But Jensen has fucked a lot of gorgeous guys. It’s not
just that. Jared is funny and caring and talented. And he’s smart – way smarter
than most people give him credit for because of that whole goofy, hyper puppy
thing. But he is, and the diploma from UT San Antonio with Magna Cum Laude
scrawled across it backs up Jensen’s assertion.
Steve said something recently about Jared’s family being less than supportive.
Said they should pick up the slack. He wouldn’t give any more details than that
- it wasn’t his place, but Jensen figures it probably has something to do with
Jared being gay. Even with all his problems, he’s glad he has parents who love
him for who he is.
Of course, Steve had really meant he and Chris should pick up the slack,
because nobody expected Jensen to take care of anybody but himself. He knows
it’s true. Hell, half the time he can’t even manage that, but for Jared, he
wishes he could.
Oh, god. I’m in love with him.
The thought pops into his mind uninvited and stops Jensen cold. It’s not true.
It can’t be true. Except that it is. Without warning Jensen is suddenly having
trouble getting a full breath. He feels the blood rushing to his head. Jared is
looking at him with concern. His mouth is moving, but Jensen can’t understand
the words. That’s the last thing he remembers before blacking out.
 
***** Part 3 *****
Chris is in the living room with Steve and they’re fiddling with guitar riffs
when his cell phone rings. He fumbles for a minute with the guitar, trying to
keep it from falling over. He nearly misses the call, but manages to flip his
phone open on the last ring without checking to see who’s calling.
“Hello?”
“Chris. You gotta get over here right now.”
“Jared?” Chris says, his heart rate picking up at his panicked tone.
“It’s Jensen. Something happened.”
Chris stands slowly, the world falling out from under him. “What – exactly –
happened?” he asks, deadly calm.
“I don’t know, man. He was fine and then he started hyperventilating and passed
out. I already called 911, but get over here.”
“I’m on my way.”
He snaps the phone shut and heads for the door.
“What’s going on?”
Steve’s voice surprises him. He’d forgotten his presence in his panic. “It’s
Jensen. Come on.”
Steve lays his guitar down and slips his shoes on. “Gimme the keys,” he says,
“You don’t need to be driving.”
Chris clenches his jaw and shakes his head, the need to get to Jensen right now
overwhelming all other thoughts. He tries to head for the door, but Steve’s
blocking his way, holding out his hand and staring at him calmly. He’s almost
ready to start a fight, but the tiny sliver of rationality he has left tells
him that Steve’s right. Doesn’t mean he has to be gracious about it. He slaps
the keys into Steve’s palm with a scowl.
They don’t speak for the entire drive and Chris’ feeling of impending doom is
not helped at all by the ambulance in the parking lot of Jared’s complex. He
jumps out of the car the second it stops moving and takes the stairs two at a
time.
He hammers on the door. “Jared! Open up!”
Jared flings the door open in seconds. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”
Chris barely hears him as he shoves past and takes in the scene inside the
apartment. Jensen is on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He’s conscious –
relief floods through Chris at that – but looks pretty out of it as the
paramedics check him over.
“Jen, what happened? Are you all right?” He crosses to the couch as Jensen
looks up at him.
“I’m fine,” he whispers, none too convincingly.
“Bullshit. The paramedics aren’t here ‘cause you’re fine.” Chris looks at them.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s doing all right now. It looks like he had a panic attack, but he should
be fine if he gets some rest and takes it easy tonight.”
“A panic attack?” Chris looks back to Jensen. “Why?”
Jensen shrugs, his face drawn. His eyes flick momentarily over Chris’ shoulder
before he resolutely stares at his lap, a flush rising on his face. Chris looks
behind him and his eyes crash into Jared’s. He looks back at Jensen, cold rage
filling him.
“Right. Okay, then.”
Chris turns around and goes to stand with Steve.
Steve wraps his arms around Chris’ shoulders, but Chris doesn’t relax against
him. His whole body is thrumming with the need to do violence. Now.
Steve whispered in his ear. “You jumping to conclusions, babe?”
Chris clenches his jaw. “Not jumping,” he mutters back.
Steve makes a skeptical noise. “Whatever you say.”
They stay like that and Chris waits with saintly patience for the paramedics to
finish their examination and pack up their things.
The click of the door closing behind them seems to echo through the silence of
the apartment. Chris counts a slow ten, then does it again. Carefully he turns
to Jared. He holds his voice under careful control when he speaks.
“What did you do?”
Jared eyes widen in hurt and confusion. “What? Nothing!”
“Yeah, right. Tell me another one. Seven years he’s fine, then suddenly he
needs paramedics and he just happens to be at your place? Now I’m gonna ask you
one more time. What. Did. You. Do?” Chris is right up in Jared’s face without
really remembering how he got there. He punctuates his last question with sharp
pokes to Jared’s chest.
Jared back up, palms out in front of him. “Whoah, man. I don’t know what you’re
talking about. I didn’t do anything. We were just watching TV.”
Steve’s right behind Chris, laying a placating hand on his shoulder. “Come on,
Chris. Leave it alone.”
Chris shrugs him off. “No. No, I won’t leave it alone.” He advances on Jared
again. “Did you touch him? Did you hurt him?”
“No! Chris, man, you know me better than that.”
“Do I?”
He’s raising his fists, fully prepared to take on all six feet infinity of
Jared to defend Jensen.
“Chris.” Jensen’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the angry noise in his
head. He turns to the couch. Guilt fills him when he takes in Jensen’s wide
eyes and pale skin. “He didn’t do anything to me. Leave him alone.”
Chris nods, deflating. “Right. Sorry.” He looks from Jensen to Jared, trying to
convey his apology to both of them.
“Can we go home now?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah.”
Jared watches them maneuver Jensen up off the couch and to the door silently.
He nods to them as they leave, his eyes shuttered.
Steve tries a little small talk in the car, but falls silent quickly when Chris
and Jensen don’t respond. When they get home, Chris walks Jensen into his room.
“You want me to hang out tonight?”
Jensen shakes his head. “No. I really just want to be alone.”
Chris nods. “Okay. Get some rest.” He eases out of the room, shutting the door
silently behind him.
Steve’s waiting for him in the living room. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. Or he will be anyway.”
“So what was that tonight?”
Chris sighs and glances back at Jensen’s door. “Let’s talk about it in the
bedroom, okay? I mean, if you’re staying.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Of course I am. Someone’s gotta take care of you.”
They undress and slip under the sheets. Chris curls up against Steve and lays
his head on his chest. He listens to Steve’s heartbeat for a little while,
trying to come up with a way to explain his behavior. Steve doesn’t push him to
speak, just strokes his hair absently. Waiting.
“I think I pushed him into this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just – Jared seemed different and I thought maybe Jen would – maybe he could
get better.”
“Jared’s a good guy. He likes Jensen.”
“Yeah.” They’re silent a long time. Finally Chris speaks again. “He’s never
going to get better, is he?”
Another silence. Chris can tell that Steve is trying to figure out what to say.
“Well, I wouldn’t give up hope just yet. And, Chris. None of this is your
fault, okay?”
“But—“
“No buts. Jensen is incredibly lucky to have you. You’re loyal to a fault and I
know you would never do anything to hurt him. And hopefully he will get better
one of these days, but even if he doesn’t,” Steve lifts Chris’ face to meet his
eyes, “Even if he doesn’t, you’ll still love him. And I’ll still love you.”
Well there’s really nothing to do after that but climb up on top of Steve,
press him down into the mattress and kiss him breathless. In moments Steve is
moaning up into his mouth. Chris swallows every little sound, savoring the
familiar taste of them.
He pulls away from Steve’s lips and kisses down the well-traveled landscape of
his body, stopping at all the sensitive places that he knows will make his
lover shiver and squirm. The hollow under his jaw, the peak of his collar bone.
He licks and suckles on nipple and then the other while running his fingers
feather-light up and down Steve’s arms.
Chris pauses to slide Steve’s boxers off, then places a gentle bite on one
hipbone before addressing his cock, which is, by now, standing proudly at
attention. He makes a few broad strokes with his tongue, then takes Steve in as
far as he can. Steve thrusts shallowly into his mouth and Chris can feel him
shaking with the effort of control.
He pulls off and crawls back up to kiss Steve again. Chris mumbles against his
lips. “Want you inside. Now.”
Steve rolls them over and now he’s making quick work of Chris boxers and
reaching for the lube on the nightstand. Chris gasps when the first finger
slides into him, like always. Steve works him open efficiently, with the ease
of long practice.
Chris groans as Steve slides into him slowly, sweat shining on his forehead
from the effort of holding back. When he’s all the way in, he pauses, his hair
falling around his face, his eyes only just far away enough to focus on. Chris
kisses him briefly.
“Want it hard,” he whispers, “Want to feel you.”
Steve groans low in his throat and drops his head onto Chris’ shoulder. Then he
complies, pulling back and thrusting hard. He sets up a rhythm that Chris’
matches eagerly. Steve’s brushing against his prostate on nearly every thrust
and that’s more than enough to send the last of his rational thoughts
skittering off in every direction.
Steve wraps a hand around his cock and pulls hard in time with his thrusts.
Another minute or two and that’s all she wrote for both of them. Chris comes in
spurts up between them, coating Steve’s hand and both their chests, as he feels
Steve fill him up.
Steve collapses on his chest for a moment before rolling them both to the side
and gathering Chris against his chest. “We should clean up,” he mumbles into
Chris’ hair.
“Later,” Chris says, feeling far too bonelessly satisfied to move.
Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Yeah, later.”
“Love you.”
“Always.”
                                      ~*~
Jensen is woken by the sun stabbing him in the eye. He moans and burrows under
the covers, trying to escape the light. His first thought is that he feels like
he’s been run over by a truck, then backed over, then run over again. His
second thought is—
“Shit! I’m late!”
He jumps out of bed, wondering frantically why his alarm didn’t go off. He
looks at the offending time piece and notes with horror that it’s nearly noon.
He’s going to get fired and end up living on the street. And why hasn’t the
office called? Even if he slept through his alarm, surely he would have heard
the phone. He spins around, intending to sprint to the closet and throw on the
first thing he pulls out.
That’s when he sees Chris standing in the doorway with two cups of coffee, one
cradled against his chest, the other held out temptingly to Jensen.
“I called your office to let them know you were sick.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Jensen, you had a panic attack and paramedics had to come save you. Did you
want me to tell them that?”
Oh. Right. He sort of forgot that part until Chris just brought it up. Well,
not forgot exactly. It just hadn’t registered in his conscious mind yet. “No, I
guess not.”
“We need to talk about this.”
Jensen doesn’t talk about things. Not real things. He even slides by with a
minimum of sincerity in his quarterly check-in appointments with his therapist.
Chris knows this. Okay, not the part about the therapist, but about the
talking. He knows. “I’m fine.”
“Jen.”
Boy, his best friend can pack a lot of guilt trip into a single syllable.
“Coffee,” he insists, avoiding giving an actual answer.
Chris sighs and nods, handing him the cup. He takes it and savors the tingle
that always accompanies his first sip of caffeine in the morning. He crawls
back into bed and props himself up against the headboard, knees tucked under
him. Chris perches on the end of the bed, nursing his own cup.
Jensen drains the mug and stares into its ceramic depths, really not wanting to
talk about what Chris wants to talk about.
“Jensen.”
He looks up, reluctantly meeting Chris’ eyes. “Yeah?”
“What happened last night?”
“Nothing.” He looks down again, feeling the weight of his friend’s stare.
“Okay, something,” he relents.
Chris chokes out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I’m totally enlightened now.”
The corner of Jensen mouth twitches upward for an instant. He studies the mug
for a couple minutes, trying to make his thoughts come out as words without
panicking again.
Chris waits patiently.
“It’s just . . . Jared.”
Jensen sees Chris’ hackles go up instantly. “Did he do something to you?”
He shakes his head. “No. Calm down, Chris. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
Jensen feels a slight tightening in his chest that reminds him of last night.
He breathes in and out methodically to stave off the panic. Seven on the
inhale, hold seven, exhale seven. Something he picked up from one of his many
therapists or counselors. When he’s sure he’s not going to do a repeat
performance, he opens his mouth to speak.
“I’m in love with him.”
He says it so softly he wonders if Chris heard him, but the sharp intake of
breath gives him his answer.
“And last night?”
“I realized it.”
“Okay, well.” Chris processes for a minute while Jensen keeps practicing his
controlled breathing. Having the words out in the world is strange and
frightening.
“So what do you want to do about that?”
Jensen shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? Really?”
“I don’t do this.”
“Yeah, I know, but Jen—“ Chris breaks off, a pained look on his face, seeming
reluctant to say what he’s thinking.
“Just say it. I’m not gonna break, Chris.”
“That’s just the thing, though. I’m always afraid you will. Things were so bad
after—I, um—after what happened. And I get it. I get that it was horrible. But
are you going to let one awful thing fuck up the rest of your life? Because if
you are, then he wins, Jen. I don’t want him to win. Do you?”
Chris pauses, looking like he’s waiting for a punch. Jensen’s far to shocked to
make a sound and – he pokes at his reactions to be sure – he’s not actually
angry. When immediate retribution isn’t forthcoming, Chris continues.
“Jared’s a good guy, Jensen. He’s been trying so hard for you, although I doubt
you noticed. Do you think you could give it a try with him?”
Jensen thinks about that. And he thinks about his life for the past ten years.
Then he comes to a conclusion.
                                      ~*~
Jared didn’t sleep at all last night. He tried – for like five minutes just as
the sun was creeping over the horizon – but mostly he worried and watched TV
without seeing. He wants to check on Jensen, but he’s pretty sure Chris will
kill him if he gets within thirty feet of him.
In the early hours of the morning he cleaned up the mess the paramedics made,
washed the dishes he and Jensen used for chips and salsa last night and barely
restrained himself from vacuuming the already pristine carpet. When he has some
free mental space he’s really going to worry about this new house cleaning tick
he’s developed.
Sometime around midmorning he throws up his hands and goes out for a long run
to burn off some of the excess nervous energy in his system. He gets back and
makes coffee and still feels twitchy and bone-weary at the same time.
He throws caution to the wind and calls Jensen’s office, only to be told he’s
out for the day. That does nothing for his worry. He paces around indecisively,
plunks himself down on the couch and tries to watch something on TLC, then
paces some more.
It’s late afternoon when he finally decides that Chris can kick his ass if he
wants to. He needs to see Jensen. Just as he grabs his keys, there’s a soft
knock on the door. He’s puzzled as to who would be coming to see him. He
doesn’t really know a lot of people besides Chris, Steve, and Jensen.
He pulls the door open and gapes when he sees Jensen standing there.
“Hey.”
“Oh my God, are you okay? I’ve been so worried.” Jared reaches out a hand to
touch Jensen – make sure he’s real and alive and standing in front of him – but
snatches it back just in time, remembering Chris’ freak out last night. “Uh,
sorry. Chris isn’t here is he? ‘Cause I don’t really feel like dying today.” He
leans forward to peer around the edges of the door.
Jensen’s lips twitch like he wants to smile at that. “No.”
“Okay, good.”
Jensen shuffles a bit on the welcome mat. “Umm, I think we need to talk,” he
says.
Jared nods. “Yeah. Come in.”
They move awkwardly around each other, unsure and skittish.
“You want to sit?” Jared asks, gesturing at the couch.
“Yeah, yeah.”
They settle, Jared on one end, Jensen curled protectively into the other.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
Jensen exhales slowly and Jared waits.
“There’s, uh, some things I need to tell you. I’ve never told anyone else this
– um, except my therapist. I mean, people know. Chris, my parents. But I’ve
never had to tell anyone.
Jared nods, feeling the weight of Jensen’s trust. “Okay.”
Jensen stares at his knees, but Jared can tell he’s seeing something else
entirely. He’s silent for a little while. When he starts speaking, it’s like
he’s not even talking to Jared. His voice is low and rhythmic, like he’s
telling the story as it plays out in front of his eyes.
“My dad had this roommate in college. The guy got obsessed with him. He was
convinced they were meant to be together. So he didn’t take it too well when my
dad married my mom. By that time he’d already been in and out of a couple of
mental institutions. My dad cut off contact with him and they thought that was
the end of it.
“But it turns out he was still stalking them. When I was born he snuck into the
hospital. Got all the way into her room and started talking crazy, threatening
her and me. Security dragged him out of there pretty fast. My dad wanted him
arrested, but he hadn’t actually done anything they could press charges for, so
the police couldn’t help much. They got a restraining order, but that’s it.
“My mom and dad were scared he was gonna come back, so they moved from
California to Texas. No forwarding address. And it seemed like it worked. They
never heard from him again and they never told me any of this. Until I turned
fifteen.”
Jensen breaks out of his reverie and looks up at Jared. His eyes are wide,
dark, and frightened. He seems to be searching for something.
“It’s okay,” Jared says, “You can tell me.” Again he wants to reach out and
touch, but instinct tells him this would be a very bad idea.
Jensen nods and breaks eye contact again.
“On my fifteenth birthday, I went out with Chris and some of our other friends.
Uh, we went bowling and then we just ran around town for a few hours. There’s
not a lot to do around here. Just being out way too late was pretty big
excitement.
“We were messing around, playing some stupid game I don’t even remember. I got
separated from the others.”
He trails off, his breathing started to come short and shallow.
“Hey, Jensen. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Jared says, not
wanting a repeat of the night before.
That seems to focus him. He shakes his head. “No. I can do this.”
He takes a couple of deep breaths and continues.
“Next thing I know I’m being dragged into this alley. I thought it was my
friends at first. I yelled for them to let me go. Then this dirty hand came
over my mouth and he told me to shut up or he’d kill me.”
Tears streak down Jensen’s face and he swallows convulsively. Jared feels like
he’s frozen, waiting for the rest of the story.
“Then he, uh—he—“ Jensen breaks off with a wordless cry and jumps up. “I can’t
do this,” he says, like he doesn’t intend for Jared to hear. He heads for the
door with tense, jerky steps.
“Jensen, wait! Please,” Jared calls and doesn’t care that he’s begging.
Jensen turns and backs up against the door like he wants to be sure of his
escape route. He wraps his arms around himself protectively and Jared is
intensely aware of how fragile he is, how one word out of place might shatter
him.
“I’m sorry, Jared. I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”
Jared sees the shutters come down in Jensen’s eyes. It’s the same look he had
the first time they met, like the lights are on, but no one’s home. But this
time it doesn’t quite fit. Jared can see the anguish underneath.
“If not now, then when?”
Jensen shakes his head. “I don’t know. Never?” His eyes beg Jared to give him
an out.
Jared steels his resolve. “Jensen, no. Let me help you. Please?”
Jensen presses back against the door like he’s trying to tunnel out with his
shoulder blades. His eyes dart wildly, looking at everything but Jared. Then he
sighs and eases away from the door. “Okay.”
They sit back down and Jensen curls even more tightly into himself. Jared
watches him and Jensen watches a darkened alley. When he speaks again, his
voice is high and strained, like a guitar string on the verge of snapping.
“The guy – he had this crazy look in his eyes. And this dirty, stringy hair. He
said I looked just like him. My dad, I guess. Then he—“ Jensen breaks off to
steady his breathing. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and speaks like he’s
ripping off a band aid. “He pushed me down and made me suck his cock and then
he fucked me and then he left me laying in that alley.”
Jared sucks in a breath through his teeth, horrified. Jensen opens his eyes and
just stares at him with wide eyes. For a moment, Jared’s frozen. He doesn’t
know what the right thing to do is. What single action can make a decade of
misery go away.
Then he realizes that nothing can do that and there’s only one thing he can do.
“Jen,” he whispers. He can’t help it. He moves across the couch and wraps
Jensen up in his arms.
Jensen stiffens for a moment and Jared’s about to pull back and apologize. Then
Jensen’s arms come up and wrap around his neck and hold him there. Sobs wrack
his body as Jared holds him. He murmurs comforting nonsense and rubs up and
down Jensen’s back.
Jared can’t even comprehend that kind of awful. He doesn’t even know where to
start with making it better. Jensen’s hands are fisted in the collar of his
shirt and tears soak through the fabric, searing his skin where they touch. His
whole body shakes under Jared’s hands and Jared feels tears of his own sliding
down his cheeks. He keeps holding Jensen until the sobs turn to little
hiccupping sniffles. Finally Jensen pulls away, his eyes sliding off of
Jared’s.
“Tissues?”
Jensen nods. Eventually he speaks again, his voice rough. “They caught him in a
bar a couple blocks away. He confessed. It was barely even a trial. Life
without parole. But after that I was pretty messed up. Started drinking and
getting into trouble and skipping school. I tried to kill myself. Um, a couple
of times.
“My parents got me into therapy. They sent me away to this place for the real
hard cases for a couple of months. That got me straightened out. I mean, sort
of. I stopped trying to kill myself. Quit most of the self-destructive
behavior. But I could never really deal.
“I convinced my therapists that I could, but I just shut everything out. I
guess I thought if I kept everybody at arm’s length, I was safe.”
Jensen meets Jared’s eyes with an intense stare. “I don’t get close to people,
Jared. I don’t have strong feeling about anything. I go to work, and I play in
the band, and I fuck any guy who’s willing, but only once. I’ve never had a
relationship that lasted longer than a day.
“And then you come along and crash through all my defenses without even
trying—I was scared. I thought if I slept with you it would prove you were just
like any other guy. But you weren’t and that just made it worse and I couldn’t
stop thinking about you. I didn’t know what to do. Can you understand that?”
Jared can. Now that he has all the horrible details he really can. He nods, not
trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat.
Jensen looks at him with shining eyes. His long lashes are wet with tears and
the freckles across his cheeks stand out in stark relief. Jared takes in these
tiny details and imprints them on his memory. There’s something momentous about
this moment that makes him pay attention, like’s he’s going to want to remember
everything about it. When Jensen speaks, he’s proven absolutely right. “I am so
tired of being scared, Jay. I want to stop being too afraid of everything to
live my life. I just want to be happy. And you make me happy. Jared Padalecki,
I’m in love with you.”
Tears are streaking down Jared’s face again and he grins so wide he’s worried
his face might crack. “Jensen Ackles, I have loved you since I first laid eyes
on you. Can I please kiss you now?”
He leans forward and is a bit disconcerted when Jensen leans back and puts a
hand up between them.
“I really, really want you to, but I’ve, uh, never done it before.”
Jared blinks. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”
Jensen shakes his head and looks away, shy again. “I hadn’t before – you know –
before. It was like the one thing I could keep for myself, you know?”
“That makes sense. But you want to? Now?”
Jensen nods.
“Okay, then.”
Jared moves in slowly. Jensen stares at him intently. He angles his head a bit,
but at the last second Jensen shifts that way too and they bump noses.
Jensen ducks his head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
Jared shakes his head, smiling softly. “It’s all right.”
He gently tips Jensen’s head up with a finger under his chin. He leans forward
again, holding Jensen still. Their lips meet. It’s not the world’s most amazing
kiss. It’s kind of awkward, as first kisses tend to be, but Jared kind of
thinks time stops anyway. Because it’s Jensen. He’s kissing Jensen, who has
never kissed anyone else before him and that really is the best thing in the
world.
A hundred years later they pull back. Jensen looks at him with eyes Jared has
never seen before.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. So, how was it?”
“It was like waking up.”
Obviously, the only appropriate response to that is to kiss Jensen again.
Some time later they’re flushed and breathless and rather less vertical than
they’d started out. Jared catches Jensen stifling a yawn between kisses and
pulls back.
“Hey, it’s been a long day,” he says, “You wanna maybe go to bed?”
Jensen goes still against him and Jared realizes how that might come across.
“I mean, to sleep,” he amends quickly.
Jensen smiles, soft and relaxed. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
They make their way to the bedroom and strip down to just boxers before
flicking off the light and crawling under the covers. Jensen holds himself
still, a few inches of space between them until Jared takes a hold of his wrist
gently.
“Hey, get over here,” he says and Jensen comes willingly, cuddling into his
side and tucking his head against Jared’s shoulder. Jared grins into the
darkness, thinking that he has never been as happy as he is right now and
praying to whatever higher power may be listening that it will last.
                                      ~*~
Jensen feels a momentary surge of panic when he wakes up to find himself held
against a broad chest by ridiculously muscular arms. Then he remembers. Jared.
He relaxes. It’s sometime past one in the morning if the blurry numbers of the
clock are anything to go by.
He’s almost drifted back to sleep when the shrill ringing of his cell phone
cuts through the silence of the bedroom. He squirms out of Jared’s arms and
tries to figure out where his jeans hit the floor. He finds them and yanks his
phone out on the last ring.
“Hey, Chris.”
Jared, obviously awake by now, turns on a lamp. He blinks at Jensen, sprawled
next to his discarded jeans on the floor. Jensen shoots him a smile and watches
the warmth fill Jared’s eyes.
“Jensen, where the hell are you? It’s the middle of the night!”
“Jared’s?”
“Still?” Chris is silent for a moment and then asks, “Did you—?”
Jensen’s brain takes a moment to catch up. “Did I—? Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no!
Absolutely not. Um. Yet?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me.”
“Yeah, but what?”
“I, um, took your advice.”
“Oh. Oh. Wow. This is big, Jen.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure. We’ll talk.”
“Yeah. Bye, Chris.”
Jensen flips the phone shut and climbs back into the warm bed.
“What advice was that?” Jared asks.
“Hmm?” Jensen says as he curls up against Jared, “Oh. He told me I should give
you a chance.”
Jensen feels Jared grin against his temple. “Remind me to buy that man
something expensive.”
                                      ~*~
Jared wakes up before Jensen in the morning. He lies very still, savoring the
moment. Jensen is warm and relaxed in his arms, drooling a bit on Jared’s
shoulder. Then he stirs awake and lifts his head. His hair is sticking up in
every direction and he looks adorably disheveled.
“Morning,” he says, his voice gruff with sleep and one eye cracked open.
“Morning,” Jared responds, unable to suppress a grin, “How’d you sleep?”
“Awesome,” Jensen answers, flopping back against the pillow, “Coffee?”
Jared chuckles. “Sure, I’ll make some.”
“Thank you,” Jensen says with the reverent tone of the truly addicted.
A couple of teeth brushings and cups of coffee later, they’re back in bed,
propped up against the headboard. Jared leans over and brushes his lips lightly
across Jensen’s.
“Good morning,” he says again.
“It really is,” Jensen answers.
They kiss again, deeper. It’s not long before they’re clutching at each other
and sliding down to the mattress. Jensen breathes in sharply when Jared’s
quickly hardening cock slides against his hip. Jared pulls back immediately.
“Is this—is it okay?” he asks, not wanting to rush anything.
Jensen tugs him back down, lifting his hips so that Jared can clearly feel that
he’s not alone in his enthusiasm.
“So much more than okay,” he says, before drawing Jared into another kiss.
Jared pulls away and kisses up the center of Jensen’s chest, running his hands
over the firm muscles there. He drops a kiss on each eyelid and one on the tip
of Jensen’s nose. That makes Jensen laugh. It might even be called a giggle.
Jared thinks he knows how game show contestants feel when they win something
really big and shiny.
“You are so beautiful, you know that?”
“You’re crazy, Jay.”
“So I’ve been told, but that doesn’t make me wrong.”
Jensen laughs again, then he presses his lips together, suddenly tentative.
“Do you want to—um. You can—you can top. You know, if you want,” he says.
Jared stares. “Jensen, are you sure?”
“Yes?”
“That doesn’t sounds sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Look, Jen. You don’t have to do this. I’m perfectly happy to bottom. Or we
don’t even have to do that. There are lots of other things we can do.”
“Jared, I want to. This is just one more thing he took from me and I want it
back. With you.”
Jared nods decisively. “We’ll go slow. If you want to stop at any time, you say
so and we’ll stop. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
They slide out of their boxers and then there’s a moment of mutual staring.
Jared’s delighted to see a pink flush creeping up Jensen’s chest. He pulls him
in for another kiss.
“All right,” he says, trying to get everything just right, “Roll over. It’ll be
easier the first time.”
“Well, it’s not exactly the first time.”
Jared kisses the words away. “Yes it is.”
Jensen rolls over and Jared trails kisses down his back. When he gets to the
hollow at the base of his spine, Jensen props himself up on one elbow and looks
around warily.
“Jared?”
“Trust me?”
“Yeah.”
Jared carefully spreads Jensen’s cheeks apart and swipes his tongue over
Jensen’s opening. Jensen gasps at the intimate contact. Jared teases over the
entrance until Jensen is moaning and shifting his hips against the mattress.
Then he finally pushes inside. Jensen yelps. “More,” he begs and Jared is more
than happy to comply.
He licks in and around Jensen’s hole until Jensen is loose-limbed and nearly
incoherent with pleasure. All his trademark control falls away under the
onslaught of sensation. He moans and gasps and pushes back against Jared’s
mouth and Jared is absolutely delighted. When he thinks Jensen is as relaxed as
he’s going to get, he finally reaches for the lube.
Jensen hisses at the first touch of Jared’s slick finger against him.
“Still trust me, Jen?”
“Yeah, go on.”
Jared pushes his finger inside and starts to stretch Jensen out. He hasn’t
found the spot he’s looking for and Jensen isn’t protesting, but he’s taking
carefully controlled breaths. Jared rubs his back between the shoulder blades
with his other hand.
“Shh,” he murmurs, “You’re doing so good, baby. Just hold on and trust me.”
Jensen nods against the pillow.
When one finger starts to feel easy, Jared adds another. That’s harder and
Jensen whimpers a little. He’s barely hard anymore. Jared reaches around and
strokes Jensen’s cock while he stretches him open.
Adding a third finger takes longer, but they get there. And finally Jared finds
that sweet spot. Jensen cries out and pushes back against him.
“So that’s what that feels like,” he mumbles.
Jared laughs. “Damn straight. So to speak.”
When three fingers are sliding inside easily and Jensen is rocking back against
him, looking for friction, Jared figures they’re ready. He pulls his fingers
out.
“You can still change your mind, Jen,” he says softly.
Jensen shakes his head. “No. I’m ready.”
Jared grabs the bottle of lube. He slides a condom on and slicks up his cock.
He’s hard and aching, but this really isn’t about him. He lines up and enters
Jensen slowly, sinking in a fraction of an inch at a time.
He can tell it hurts, but Jensen breathes deeply and tells Jared to keep going.
Finally he’s all the way in. He stays there for a minute, letting Jensen get
used to him.
From there it’s slow and sweet. Jared exerts every ounce of control he has to
make this good for Jensen. If the sinful little moans and nonsense words are
anything to go by, he’s not doing an awful job. Jensen comes first, and then
Jared lets himself go, coming so hard his vision whites out. He pulls out
carefully and grabs a handful of tissues for a haphazard cleanup. Then he
gathers Jensen against him and they drift into post-coital sleep.
                                      ~*~
A few weeks later, once the relationship doesn’t feel as much like a soap
bubble ready to burst in a light wind, Jensen decides it’s time to introduce
Jared to his parents. Jared is not at all sure that’s a good idea.
“Don’t be stupid. They’ll love you,” Jensen assures him.
Chris nods. “It’s true.”
“Um, they’ll love the guy who’s sleeping with their son?”
Chris laughs as Jensen turns red. “You have no idea,” he says.
Jared remains convinced that this is a very bad idea, but he really can’t say
no to anything Jensen asks him to do. Which is how he finds himself on the
doorstep of a charming, suburban house, dressed for Sunday dinner.
A middle-aged woman with Jensen’s eyes and hair just starting to gray at the
temples opens the door.
“Jensen!” she cries, throwing her arms around him.
“Hey, mom.”
She pulls back, holding him by the shoulders. “Let me get a good look at you.
How are you doing. Are you eating?”
“Fine and yes.”
“And who is this fine young man?”
Jared freezes as she turns her attention on him.
“Mom, this is Jared Padalecki. My boyfriend.”
Mrs. Ackles makes a small “oh” sound and claps her hand over her mouth, tears
coming to her eyes. “You darling boy,” she declares and gathers him into a hug.
Jared hugs back awkwardly. “Welcome to the family.”
Jared has to work hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Never in a million years
would he have expected this kind of reception from parents – any parents. Mr.
Ackles is just as welcoming, if slightly less effusive.
Jensen’s mother and father treat him like their own, long lost child. It
doesn’t make up for his own parents throwing him out, but it helps. He becomes
a frequent visitor in the Ackles household. Sunday dinners, cookouts, nothing
in particular. Between them and the band, Jared cobbles together a new family.
This one he chose, because they love him. And they love each other.
It’s October and starting to be slightly less sweltering when Jared decides to
risk bringing up the topic that’s been on his mind.
“So,” he says, right in the middle of a furious Madden battle.
“So?” Jensen answers.
“I was thinking.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jensen teases, slanting him a quick smirk before looking
back to the screen.
“Shut up! I’m trying to be serious here.”
“In the middle of playing Madden?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, what is it then?”
“I was thinking maybe we could, um, move in together. You know, if you wanted.”
“Huh,” Jensen says, going very still except for his fingers moving on the
controller.
“Or we can just forget I said anything,” Jared says quickly. ‘
“Mmm,” Jensen says, still not looking at Jared, but he relaxes back against the
couch and in a few minutes it’s almost like the weird moment didn’t happen.
Nearly a month later they’re in the frozen foods aisle of the grocery store.
Jensen pushed Jared out the door when he discovered Jared had nothing but
mustard and a couple of beers in the refrigerator. Jared is expounding the
merits of Chunky Monkey when Jensen lays a hand on his shoulder and says,
“Okay.”
Jared grins and grabs the ice cream. “I told you,” he says, “Bananas and
chocolate. It’s an irresistible combination.”
Jensen shakes his head, looking strangely nervous for a conversation about ice
cream. “No, I mean, okay.
“Okay, what?” Jared asks, completely mystified.
“Okay, I’ll move in with you,” Jensen says.
Jared just stares at him for a moment, feeling a smile spreading slowly across
his face. Then he lets out a whoop and gathers Jensen up in his arms.
Jensen squirms against him. “Let go of me, you giant dork!” he protests, but
he’s laughing and Jared just tightens his arms and shakes his head.
“Uh uh. Not ever.” He drops a kiss on the tip of Jensen’s nose and pulls back
far enough to meet his eyes. “You’re sure?”
Jensen bites hip lip and nods shyly.
“Good,” Jared says and kisses his boyfriend in the middle of the grocery store.
                                      ~*~
Steve’s pocket starts buzzing in the middle of the five o’clock after work rush
and he nearly causes a coffee disaster trying to answer his phone with one hand
and keep foaming milk with the other.
“’Lo?” he answers, tucking the phone into the crook of his neck.
“Pack your shit and get over here!” Chris crows in his ear.
Steve’s sure that he’s missed something because he has no idea what Chris is
talking about. “Um, what?” he asks intelligently, finishing off the cappuccino
and sliding it across the counter.
“Jensen’s setting up a happy little love nest with Jared and you know what that
means.”
Steve can practically hear his face splitting grin through the phone. His jaw
drops. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Chris says, “Only without the death and with way more sex.
And maybe a puppy! Do you want to get a puppy?”
Steve laughs. “Dude, did Jared infect you with his ADHD or something? You sound
like you’re on a sugar high.”
“Ass,” Chris shoots back, “Excuse me for being excited that my boyfriend is
finally moving in with me.” He pauses. “You are right? I mean, you still want
to?”
“Idiot,” Steve answers affectionately, “Of course I do.”
“Yeah,” Chris says, “I knew that.”
“Is Saturday too soon?”
“Saturday’s perfect.”
                                      ~*~
The band has been playing more and more lately. Chris has been running himself
ragged schmoozing and distributing demos and it seems to be paying off. They
play regular gigs at a few places in Richardson and some of the other Dallas
suburbs.
He bribes Jared with gummi worms to talk the Entertainment reporter at the
Gazette into coming to a show. The guy loves them and after that they finally
get to play a couple of shows in the city. Then heaven smiles down and they get
a good review in the Dallas Morning News. Chris manages to parlay their good
fortune into a summer tour.
Steve is having kittens about leaving the shop alone for weeks at a stretch.
Chris reminds him that Sophia is more than capable of keeping things running
and frequently repeats the phrase “opportunity of a lifetime” until his
boyfriend stops panicking.
                                      ~*~
Jared’s practically jumping out of his skin with anticipation. Jensen tells him
on more than one occasion to “lay off the sugar, Sasquatch,” before kissing him
still. And really, how can Jared be expected to change his behavior with that
kind of positive reinforcement?
In order to give his nervous energy a direction, he helps Chris work out all
the logistics of the tour. Travel arrangements, hotels, selling their firstborn
for gas money, the usual.
“Uh, Chris, you do know we’re gay, right?”
“Exactly!”
By the end of April there’s nothing left to do but throw a party and invite
everyone they’ve ever met. Chris wants to buy a grill for the occasion and he
pouts comically when Steve reminds him that there’s no point in spending the
money when they’re not going to be home to use it all summer. Jensen dissolves
into giggles at the exchange and Jared can’t resist scooping him up in a bear
hug.
They end up having the party at the Ackles’ house because they already have a
grill, not to mention a really nice backyard. It’s the first Saturday in May
and the weather is obligingly gorgeous. The heat hasn’t quite reached surface
of the sun levels yet, and that counts as downright mild for Texas in May.
Jared surveys the chaos in the backyard with a deep feeling of contentment.
Friends and relatives seem to have sprung from the ground in the crowd is any
indication. He feels a brief twinge that none of them are his before reminding
himself that they actually are. His family is here now and he never thought
he’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing one.
He shakes his head, already bored with the introspection. There are burgers to
be inhaled and friends to embarrass with his hyperactivity. Sophia took over
the manly art of grilling after Chris nearly started a brushfire with his first
attempt. He pouted, but she brandished a barbecue fork and forcibly shooed him
away with Steve’s relieved assistance.
He bounces up to her and says, “Feed me!”
She glances up at him skeptically. “There’s not enough beef in the world.”
“Oh, come on! Just a couple of little, tiny, enormous burgers, please?” he
says, pulling out the puppy dog face.
“You’ve had like six!”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes, but she hands him a plate and plunks a
couple of patties on it anyway.
“And one for Jensen?”
“No way! You’ll just have to share.”
“Fine, I’ll starve then!” he exclaims, grinning mischievously as he carries his
spoils away.
He looks around for Jensen and spots him brandishing a water pistol at Allie.
She’s shrieking and laughing as she runs away. Jared puts the burgers down next
to the condiments and grabs his boyfriend as they careen past him.
“Hey, no terrorizing the guests,” he teases.
Jensen pouts. “Aww, you’re no fun.”
“Got you a burger,” Jared says.
They eat in companionable silence, observing the festivities, until Jared
realizes who he hasn’t seen in a while.
“Hey, where are Chris and Steve? We’re supposed to play in a little while.”
Jensen tenses slightly. “Umm, I dunno,” he answers, shrugging.
Jared is instantly suspicious. “Okay, what’s the secret?”
“Secret? What are you talking about?” Jensen says in a completely unconvincing
attempt at innocence.
Jared was about to start the interrogation in earnest – tickling might even be
necessary – when he was distracted by a high pitched squeal that dogs would
probably recognize as his name.
He whirls around to see a tiny brunette standing on the patio, flanked by a
very smug Chris and Steve.
“Sandy?” he cries in astonishment.
She just smiles big and bright and opens her arms. He launches himself at her,
picks her up and spins her around. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
She gestures over his shoulder and he turns around to see Jensen grinning at
him.
“You?”
Jensen shrugs, turning a bit pink. “You remember that morning you couldn’t find
your cell phone?”
Jared’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh my god.” He grabs Jensen and pulls him
into the hug without letting go of Sandy. “Thank you so much.”
He drags his best friend to a secluded corner and spends some time just
catching up and letting it sink in that she’s really here. After a little
while, though, he decides he’s ready to share her. Less than five minutes after
being introduced, she’s swapping war stories with Allie and Sophia about gay
men and being the women who love them.
The last of the guests finally trickle out sometime after midnight and Jared
breathes in the quiet night air. Jensen comes back outside after saying
goodnight to his parents and they decide to test the weight limit on the
Ackles’ patio furniture by curling up together on the chaise lounge.
“Pretty awesome party,” Jared says, carding his fingers absently through
Jensen’s hair.
Jensen sighs and butts his head up into the touch like a cat. “Yeah, my parents
really know how to throw a rager.”
“God, how did I ever get lucky enough to find you?” Jared asks, recognizing the
randomness of the topic jump and not really caring.
Jensen twists his head around to look at Jared. “You?” he replies, “I’m the
lucky one.”
Jared pulls him in closer. “Maybe we’re both lucky.”
“I didn’t think things ever worked out like this except in romance novels.”
Jared grins. “More like fairytales.”
“So what happens now?” Jensen asks, half teasingly.
“Don’t you know?” Jared answers, “We live happily ever after.”
***** Epilogue *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Many years later, the prince who was destined to break the spell finally
arrived. He had been exiled from his own kingdom and came seeking refuge. He
saw immediately that the golden prince was trapped inside his self-made wall of
thorns. He caught a glimpse of the real prince asleep inside and fell in love.
He determined that he must find a way past the wall of thorns or die trying. At
first the thorns cut him and it seemed impossible to get through.
The golden prince’s loyal knight had been faithfully standing guard outside the
wall for all the years that the prince had been asleep. He saw what the foreign
prince was doing and tried to stop him.
At first it seemed that a duel would be fought, for the knight would stop at
nothing to protect his lord and the foreign prince refused to yield. At the
last moment, the knight realized that the foreign prince might be the one he
had been watching for who would break the curse.
He told him that he would never get through the wall of thorns with force. The
knight’s vows of loyalty kept him from saying anything more that might help the
prince in solving the riddle, but he watched hopefully as the prince began his
task.
The foreign prince began to care for the brambles, pruning and tending them
carefully. Little by little, the hard, sharp limbs turns to flowers and opened
a path. Inside lay the golden prince. The foreign prince had never seen anyone
as beautiful.
Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and kissed the sleeping prince’s lips.
At that moment, the spell was broken and the prince opened his eyes. “I dreamed
that you would come,” he told the foreign prince, “I’ve been waiting a long
time.”
Soon after that the two princes were married and lived happily to the end of
their days.
The End
 
Chapter End Notes
     Originally posted on_my_livejournal.
     View the original art by causette at the link above and here.
     The second link includes a fanmix. I regret to say that all the
     download links are broken, and I no longer have all the songs I
     included. However! I made y'all a_youtube_playlist just in case you
     were interested.
  Works inspired by this one
      [Podfic]_To_Wake_a_Captive_Dreamer by momopods_(momotastic)
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