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raeschaeTitle: Disclaimer: We Will Not Be Held Responsible . . . 3/7
Author:raeschae
Rating: R (for language)
Characters: Jared, Jensen, Tom, Danneel, Mike, OMC
Summary: Jared and Jensen are willing to do almost anything to help their friends. Almost. But what Chris is asking of them this time? It's the one thing they both swore they'd never do: Grow up.
Warnings: Well, there's a lot of swearing in front of a minor – does that require a warning?
Word Count: 5500 (give or a take a word or two)
Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own any human beings at present time. If I do, at some point, acquire one of the individuals mentioned here, you'll be the first to know.
A/N: I'm so completely overwhelmed by the response to this. I'm not sure if it's because of the writing or the tattooed boys, but it doesn't really matter, cause y'all rock out loud either way! So thanks again!
Graphic under the cut again, so beware if you, ya know, need to beware of that kind of thing. Alright:
“So, we're gonna need Mike to handle any incoming custom work between now and the Macy's deadline. Jensen's sole focus has to be on the line between now than then,” Tom explains, blue eyes darting around the store room of Ollie's pro shop. Well, sort of darting. Back and forth between Danneel and Jensen, and basically ignoring Mike's presence off to his left. He always does this. Pretends like Mike doesn't exist when he starts to feel guilty about what they do in the dark.
Jensen feels the tension in his shoulders and, not for the first time, thinks that Jared's idea to head to Mexico for the night is maybe the best one his boyfriend's ever come up with. They need it. Both of them. Not for them, as a couple, but for both of them as individuals. Neither of them has ever wanted to be part of corporate America – wouldn't be very punk of them, after all – but being business owners takes it's toll sometimes. Especially now that Jensen has agreed to design this commercial line for Macy's.
“I've got, like, three weeks, Tommy,” he reminds his friend with a shrug, nibbling on a stick of string cheese Danneel passed him when the meeting started.
Tom rolls his eyes, as though Jensen is a simple child. No way to treat his boss, but Jensen doesn't say anything. Mostly because, if he didn't act like a simple child most of the time, he wouldn't need a business manager like Tom in the first place. “You have no sketches, Jen,” he points out. “Twenty-one days. That's it. Twenty-one days to come up with a thirteen piece line.”
“Twenty,” Jensen corrects him distractedly, pulling at one of the strings of cheese and staring at it with fascination. When Tom makes a confused sound, Jensen lifts his eyes from the food to the man standing before him, looking not at all unlike Jensen's father used to when he caught his teenaged son drawing flaming skulls on his English term paper at the kitchen table. “I'm out of the office tomorrow,” he explains with a brief shake of his head.
“What? Why?” He doesn't add the obligatory 'why wasn't I informed', but it's evident in his tone.
“He's having steamy mansex on the beach in Mexico,” Danneel explains, typing away at the buttons on her blackberry. Jensen's pretty sure she's texting Mike, who is sitting immediately to her right, but he doesn't say anything because, well, he doesn't care.
Tom's eyebrows raise like someone pulled them on a string inside his skull. “You're going to TJ? On a Wednesday? For one day?” his voice climbs like it's the most asinine thing he's ever heard.
“Yeah,” Jensen answers with an easy shrug. It's not like he hasn't taken off for day trips with Jared a thousand times before. They all know that it's kind of a signature.
“How in the hell do you just up and go like that?” Tom asks, his voice climbing back down from the octave it rose a second ago. “No planning or anything, just,” he makes a weird upward motion with his hands, “up and go?”
“Oh, come on, Tommy,” Danneel cuts in, eyes raising from her blackberry with a vicious glint. If her voice wasn't already dripping with artificial saccharine, Jensen would know from the look in her eye that she's about to say something less-than-kind. “You're plenty spontaneous,” she adds, her head tilting to the side like a curious, mischievous puppy. “I mean, just look how many times you've ended up with your dick in Mike's mouth with no warning whatsoever.”
Jensen stands from his stool and rests a hand on Danneel's shoulder. “That's enough,” he warns, as seriously as he can. It's not like she isn't right, but it's drama he doesn't want in the work place. Who his people fuck is their own business, but if it interferes with Ollie's business, they all know it's off-limits.
“What?” she asks, wide, angelic eyes searching Jensen's face for signs that she's done something wrong.
But he doesn't answer her before Mike's soft voice inserts, “Just . . . let it go, Dani.” She tries to argue, but Mike leans back on the table they're sharing as a seat and nudges her with his shoulder. “You know I love you, but just . . . it's not,” he stops and risks a glance in Tom's direction, only to find Tom's eyes darting back to the folder in his massive hands. “Drop it.”
“So, starting Thursday, no interruptions,” Jensen cuts the conversation off by returning to the subject of the staff meeting. He's not a stickler for rules, but if he has a prayer of getting out of here and getting home to Jared by six, he needs to hurry things along.
Tom's cell phone rings and he bustles off to answer it as the bell dings over the front door. Danneel scurries off to help the customer, leaving Jensen alone with a crest-fallen looking Mike in the back room. It's a disturbing sight, being as Mike's rarely ever less-than-spastic.
“You okay, Mikey?” he asks, offering the guy half of his cheese.
Mike accepts it with a weak, hollow smile. “Like water off a duck's back, Jenny,” he feigns his devil-may-care tone, but it's seriously flat and not-at-all convincing. “Better off without all that bull shit anyway.”
It's true, but Jensen's pretty sure Mike doesn't believe it. “That you talking? Or Dani's script for what you're supposed to be telling yourself?”
“Doesn't make it any less true,” is Mike's answer as he stands and cards his fingers through his short, dark hair. Clapping a hand on Jensen's shoulder, there's a look in Mike's eye that is kind of hard to define. Almost like longing or something. “Have fun in TJ,” he says, and Jensen's pretty sure the guy's wishing he had someone to blow off work and take a random day trip with. If it's all the same, Jensen kind of wishes Mike had that, too.
He's a good guy, Mike Rosenbaum is. A little crazy sometimes, and wholly inappropriate always, but good. And he deserves better than a married closet-case who only acknowledges him when he stops pretending that he's not queer as a three dollar bill, and then goes right back to pretending that Mike's nothing more than a pair of lips and some fingers. Though he'd never say it – not in a million years, upon threat of death – Jensen kind of hopes he finds better some day. That Mike finds his Jared.
“Why don't you get outta here,” Jensen suggests in lieu of any real emotional discussion. It would only make Mike more uncomfortable, and Jensen's not exactly jonesin' for a heart-to-heart, either. Better to just let it roll. “Nobody's callin' in orders this afternoon, and Tom can handle the park kids until closing,” he goes on. “Go home. Get some sleep. You look like hell in a trash bag.”
Mike's grin is infectious as he squeezes Jensen's shoulder. “You're so good to me, Jenny,” he mocks.
Jensen nods and turns sincere eyes to the older man. “I really am. Too good. Some day, I'll wake up and realize it.” He points to the door and then looks back at Mike. “Go.”
“Thanks, man,” Mike says, a little more seriously this time, and it's all Jensen can do not to roll his eyes. Not like he wouldn't do it for any of his friends who needed a little down time to decompress and get their heads together.
Hell, it's not like that's not exactly why he and Jared are getting away tonight, after all.
“Ya know,” Jared's voice breaks through Jensen's thoughts as he stares at the bag in front of him on the bed, “I know you think you have this amazing mind, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to magically start throwing things into the bag just because you stare long enough.”
He feels the hands on his hips and the chest against his back and Jensen leans back, collapsing into Jared's embrace. “Body of a god and a sense of humor, too?” Jensen asks, dripping sarcasm from every word. “How did I get so lucky?”
The rumble of Jared's laughter reverberates through Jensen's body as the taller man dips his head to suck at the junction of his boyfriend's jaw and neck. “I don't know,” he echoes in sincere agreement. “You must be special or somethin'.”
With a laugh, Jensen sends an elbow back into Jared's stomach just hard enough to be playful. “You don't get off me, there's no Mexico.” he warns. “There's you, me, this bed, and some handcuffs I haven't bothered to bust out in a while, but there is no Mexico.”
Jared takes a step back, and that's when Jensen hears the soft clink of metal-on-metal. Turning his head, he sees Jared drop said handcuffs into his own bag and his only response is to wink when he meets Jensen's eye. “Seriously, man? We need to get on the road. Like . . . now.”
If the words I am in violent agreement with you have ever applied to any situation, it's this one. “A'right, fine. Give me two minutes,” he holds up his fingers to illustrate his point as the front doorbell rings.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Jared growls in frustration, throwing his arms in the air in a sign of defeat. “Seriously? I just wanna get the fuck outta here!”
Rolling his eyes at the childish dramatics, Jensen pulls Jared's mouth to his for a quick kiss, but Jared stops him from leaving. “Be nice,” Jensen warns and Jared just flips him off as he heads through the living room toward the front door.
It's not a huge house, the one he and Jensen bought together last year. Maybe it's a little bigger than the pair of them need by themselves, but the view of the ocean is spectacular, and there's plenty of room to host all of their friends, and a few of their plus one's to boot. Plus, it has a fucking theater. Never, in all of his years growing up on people's couches in San Antonio, did he ever think that he would someday live in a house with a theater.
Throwing the door open, he finds Tom on the other side. Jared doesn't have a problem with Tom usually – he's a pretty good guy, though his actions when it comes to Mike are pretty fuckin' reprehensible. Of course, Jared wasn't exactly “Boyfriend of the Year” before Jensen came along, either, so what's he gonna say about it all really?
“Hey, Tommy,” he greets, leaning easily on the door frame. Maybe if he just doesn't invite the guy in, he'll get the hint and take off.
“Hey, Jay. How's it' goin'?” Tom asks, blue eyes wide and hopeful. He's going to ask for something. Jared just knows he's going to ask for something that he doesn't think either of them will want to give him. He's got a knack for reading people, and Jared would bet this entire trip that Tom wants something work-related that Jensen's going to swear he can't get out of. It puts him on edge immediately.
“What's goin' on, man?” he asks, not trying to be rude, but unwilling to trade pleasantries.
“Jen home?” Tom asks, predictably.
Jared just nods. “Yeah, he's packin',” he answers.
Tom's eyes fly wide, and fill with what can only be described as guilt. “Oh, shit. TJ,” he gasps. “I totally forgot, man,” he apologizes and all but confirms Jared's suspicions.
“Hey, Tommy,” Jensen's voice sounds from over Jared's shoulder and he turns just enough to see Jensen drop his packed bag next to Jared's beside the couch. Thank God. Maybe they'll actually get out of here on time, if Jensen can find his balls and tell Tom to fuck off.
“Jen. I totally forgot about TJ,” Tom repeats what he just said to Jared and the younger of the two men leaves his boyfriend with his employee. If he sticks around, and Tom apologizes one more time, he's going to punch him in the mouth. Jared doesn't want to punch anyone. He wants to get on the road and fuck his boyfriend in the sand in Mexico.
With a shrug, Jensen resumes Jared's place in the doorway. “What's up, man?” he asks, and Jared doesn't stick around to listen to the answer. He also doesn't bother catching the kitchen door to the garage as he heads out to load the bags onto the bike.
At the crashing of the screen door, Jensen flinches. Jared's been tense all day, and now that they're behind schedule, he's twice as jumpy. It would almost be funny, the way neither of their lives run on a schedule except when they're heading out on a trip. Then it's like Jared has a time table that has to be strictly adhered to, like he can't wait to get the fuck away from his real life and just escape it all. Almost be funny, if he wasn't so fucking scary when he was all twitchy like that.
“Jamie wants to talk,” Tom says and Jensen can't help smiling.
As bad as he feels for Mike, as much as it pisses him off to see Tom treat him the way that he does sometimes, the big man is still his friend. And if he wants to reconcile with his wife after his one hundred and whatever-eth indiscretion? He can't help being happy for him. It's kind of Jensen's nature to see everyone around him happy with their lives.
“That's great, man,” he nods enthusiastically.
“I know, right? We're having dinner in,” he checks his watch, “About an hour.”
Jensen's pretty sure Tom didn't drive fifteen minutes out of his way to tell Jensen that he's reconciling with Jamie. “Rock on,” he nods his agreement.
And that's when Tom shifts his weight from one hip to the other and runs his fingers through his hair again. This is where the favor comes in. “Yeah,” he says. “Thing is, I can't really take Brayden to dinner with me, ya know?”
Jensen's stomach drops. No. Not now. This can't be happening now. “He's twelve, Tom. It's not like he needs a baby sitter for a couple of hours.” His voice is flat, even to his own ears, and he knows he has to wrap this up before Jared comes back in the house. Shit.
“He's also a stranger,” Tom points out, as though even Jensen wouldn't think of leaving the kid alone in his house when he doesn't know a damn thing about him.
Except that Jensen would leave Brayden alone. For a couple of hours anyway. If he was living here, Jensen would leave him with plenty of video games and pizza money to keep him busy while he and Jared went to a club or a bar or just out for dinner. He wouldn't think twice about it. And it makes him wonder if Jared hasn't been right this whole time. Maybe he really never did have any business thinking he could look after a kid.
“What do you want from me, Tom?” he asks with resignation heavy in his tone.
“Can you just,” Tom hesitates and his eyes turn hopeful once again. “It'll only be a few hours, Jen. Please, if you could just watch him for a few hours? I can't . . . I mean, I don't wanna ditch him, ya know?”
Tom's his friend, but he's also a manipulative bastard. Jensen's pretty sure that he's using words like 'ditch' just to make him feel more guilty. The bitch of it is that it's working.
“We're leaving in three minutes,” Jared butts into the conversation, his tone saying that conversation is over. Thanks for stopping by. Don't let the door hit ya in the ass on the way out.
“Jay,” he starts, trying to keep his tone as even and reasonable as possible.
But Jared's response is pretty damn definitive. “No, Jensen,” he shakes his head, and Jensen can see the tension in his neck, the way he's fighting to keep himself from exploding in front of company. “No,” he repeats for effect.
“Jay, man, come on.” Tom probably thinks he's helping his cause, but Jensen can see in Jared's eyes that the older man isn't helping anything at all. “It's just a couple hours. Then you can be on the road to Mexico same as before. I'm just asking,” he stops and turns wide, innocent eyes that belong nowhere near a man who routinely cheats on his spouse, to Jared. “I'm just asking for a little help in saving my marriage here.”
“Fuck you, Welling,” is Jared's angry response. “You wanna save your marriage, stop sleeping with men every other fucking week, okay? It's not our fucking job to save the motherfucking world, Jensen!”
Why he's getting yelled at when he hasn't said a goddamn word, Jensen doesn't know. Just knows he doesn't like it. He and Jared don't fight a lot, but when they do, it's pretty messy and loud and ugly. Outside of Chad and Chris, none of their friends have really seen it, and Jensen's pretty sure Tom's wishing he wasn't on the exclusive list at the moment.
“Why don't you settle the fuck down there, Sasquatch,” he shoots back in the face of Jared's outburst, noting that something flares in Jared's eyes. It's that thing that always pops up when he's backed into a corner, when he feels trapped. Like he doesn't have a choice and he really, really doesn't like it. “It's not like we can't afford a few more hours,” he goes on.
“No! Ya know what? I am all for helping our friends when they need it, but when these fuckers take advantage of it? All bets are off! We are always the ones to sacrifice so they can do whatever the hell they want, man, and it's not our fucking job, okay? It is not our job to save Tom's marriage, and soothe Mike's ego, and bail Chad's ass out of jail. It's not our job to fix Chris's whole fucked up family! And it is sure as shit not our job to put our plans on hold to play house with some fucking kid we don't even fucking KNOW!”
His breathing is ragged and labored by the time he finishes, face red. Jensen doesn't really know what to say. The one thing that he's always loved more than anything about Jared is the fact that he's as sacrificial and loyal as Jensen is when it comes to their friends. How long has he been harboring these feelings of resentment? How long has he been going through the motions, letting Jensen believe that he doesn't mind when he clearly does.
It doesn't piss him off that Jared's upset, or even that he's yelling. They've fought dirtier than this on more than one occasion. What does piss Jensen off is the fact that Jared's obviously been keeping something from him and he's choosing now, in front of someone else, right before a vacation, to vent it.
“Ya know what? Fuck you, Jared! Fuck you!” Jensen crossed the distance, leaving Tom at the door, paralyzed. “I don't know what the fuck is up your ass about this whole damn thing, but fuck you! I'm so sorry that my wanting to help our friends is such a fucking burden to you, you selfish son of a bitch! But I am not sorry that I give a goddamn about my best fucking friend in the world, or about this kid that doesn't have a goddamn choice, okay? I'm not sorry that I fucking care, and I'm not sorry that I want to help. I don't have to. It's not my fucking job. I choose to.
“Because my friends? That's all I've got, Jay. That's all we've got. Nothin' else, man. You know that! All we have is our friends!” Fuming, Jensen points to the back door. “So you can either take your ass to TJ and fuck yourself on the beach, or you can stay here with me and Brayden,” he issues the offer bitterly, practically spitting it at his boyfriend. “Either way, my ass is stayin' here!”
Jared's lip curls into a smirk at the ridiculous notion and then he scoffs when it becomes clear that Jensen's not joking. All day he's been waiting to get on the bike, get on the road, get to Mexico with Jensen. All day, he's been thinking about this escape, this vacation, from reality. And now the one thing that made him want to run away in the first place is fucking everything all to hell.
“Hope you and the kid have a great fucking time,” Jared hisses, rolling his eyes and he pushes away from the wall and stalks out of the house, the door banging even more angrily on his exit.
Tom waits until the bike's tires squeal out of the garage and down the driveway before offering Jensen a weak smile. “Thanks, man,” he starts.
But Jensen puts his hand up to stop his friend. “This is for Chris, man. He is the only person on planet fucking Earth I would pull that shit with Jared for. Not you, not Dani, not my own fucking mother.” Raking his fingers through his spiked hair, Jensen heaves a sigh and glares at Tom. “Get the fuck outta here 'fore I change my mind and chase him.”
Nodding wordlessly, Tom returns to his car and Jensen takes a moment to thank whatever muse inspired him to call the cleaning lady on the way to work this morning. And when Brayden appears on the porch as Tom's backing out of the driveway, he thinks about how fucked it is that Tommy couldn't even be bothered to accompany the kid to the front door.
Without so much as an introduction, the kid's just left on the porch and it punches Jensen in the gut. “Dude, get in here,” he tells the confused-looking boy, standing there with a backpack, staring at his shoes.
Brayden shuffles over the threshold and doesn't bother looking up when Jensen asks what he wants for dinner. He suggests Thai, pizza, and burgers from the bar up the road, but all of them illicit the same shrug and a whispered, “whatever,” from the kid.
Once Jensen's ordered the burgers and requested delivery, he motions for Brayden to follow him into the rec room. “You like video games?” Brayden nods. “You always this quiet? Cause, ya know, I coulda sworn I heard you talk last night.”
Brayden blushes a bright pink and looks at his hands again, not bothering to take his bag from his shoulders as he sinks to the edge of the couch. Jensen takes the chair and they sit in an awkward silence until the food comes. Throughout dinner, which Brayden devours like he hasn't had a decent meal in the last month, they both stare at the floor. The sounds of chewing and the creaking of Styrofoam containers are the only sound, apart from the slurping of straws and the scraping of fries dragged through ketchup.
Once he's thrown the trash out, Jensen comes back into the rec room and stands in front of the kid still perched precariously on the edge of the couch. “Alright, look . . . you're here for the next couple of hours, so . . . this whole silent treatment thing isn't really gonna work for me.” Though he doesn't raise his head, Jensen can see Brayden's eyes narrow as he focuses on the floor. “Fuckin' . . . Jay . . .”
He's not really sure why he's cursing his boyfriend's name or what it has to do with this moment, but Jensen can't help feeling like Jared would know what to do with this kid. Not just because Jared knows what it feels like to be abandoned, but because Jared always knows what to say to people. His talent might get him in the door with big-wigs and high-profile personalities, but it's Jared's own charm and ease that throw those doors wide open. He just knows what to do.
It's like, forty-five minutes after he left, Jensen wants him back. He hates fighting with Jared. More than he hates vegetables and family holidays he's no longer invited to attend. It makes him feel off-kilter, like the world is on its ear and he doesn't know how to right it.
“Sorry.”
Brayden's apology is mumbled so softly that Jensen almost misses it. When he looks up, the kid is staring at the floor again, his hands clenched tightly around the straps of his back pack. “What are you sorry for?” Jensen asks, oblivious.
“Everything,” Brayden answers after another long silence. His knuckles are white against the bag and his face is blazing with embarrassment.
Jensen doesn't consider himself overly-emotional. He's not stoic, but he's certainly not gushing with an over-abundance of emotional displays, either. Still, something about the way this kid is basically apologizing for his existence grips him just the wrong way and makes him want to punch the asshole who left him square in the fucking jaw.
“Brayden,” Jensen starts and then stops himself. “Look at me.” He's obeyed immediately and without hesitation, the boy's blue eyes wide and filled with something that looks like fear or anxiety. Sinking back into the chair, Jensen holds his hands out and tries to appear as relaxed as possible. This kid will mistake his anger toward his father as anger toward him, and that's the last thing Jensen wants, or needs. “None of this shit is your fault, okay?”
“I know,” he mutters almost inaudibly.
Standing, Jensen walks to the television and sinks to the floor, rearranging chords and controllers. “We don't scare easy, okay? Me and my friends, we pretty much live on horror films and hangovers the fucking devil would wince at, ya know?” Jensen laughs and shakes his head, noting that Brayden is following his every move. “But you? You terrify the holy shit outta us, man. Cause you're . . . you're like this . . . not-fucked-up person, and the rest of us? We're a fuckin' train wreck.” That's the best explanation he can come up with on short notice and he hopes it makes sense, but when he extends a controller Brayden just considers him curiously. “We gonna play or what?”
He's well aware of how many f-bombs he just dropped in front of a middle school-aged kid, but Jensen doesn't fucking care. He decided a long damn time ago that he would never, ever compromise who he is for anybody. If he can teach this kid anything in the two hours that he's in charge of his well-being, it's going to be that. Be who you are and don't fucking apologize for it.
By the time his phone rings in his pocket, Jensen's lost all track of the hour. So it's kind of a shock when he realizes it's after midnight. “Dude, where are you?” he asks Tom.
“I'm,” Tom stops and Jensen thinks maybe he's . . . crying? “It's over, man. We're over.”
“Whoah. What?” Jensen drops his controller and Brayden shoots him an inquisitive look before reaching over to pause the game. Shaking his head, Jensen covers the mouth piece with his hand. “Go ahead and play without me,” he offers, standing and walking from the room. “What do you mean it's over?”
“Well, apparently, I'm gay,” Tom announces, as though it's news to him.
“Well, no shit, Einstein,” Jensen countered without thinking. Really? Tom's the only person on the planet who is possibly surprised by this revelation.
“I just . . . I don't know what to do, man. I feel lost,” Tom goes on. Rambling. Like his brain hasn't quite caught up with his lips yet. “Can you . . . look, I know I promised it would only be a couple of hours, but do you think you could . . . “
“Yeah, sure, of course. Just,” Jensen casts a glance over his shoulder and then back when he's sure that Brayden's engrossed in the game. “Get some sleep, okay? I got it covered.” He wants to suggest Tom head over to Mike's and just be with the person he's supposed to be with, but he's not sure that's the best idea. After everything Mike's endured, he's not sure Tom will make him happy like he thinks he will. He's not sure Tom will ever really be happy at all.
And he doesn't know why, but he really doesn't want him looking after Brayden right now, either. Not when he can't form a coherent sentence and Jensen's pretty sure he's less-than-sober. Keeping the kid overnight seems the like the least that he can do. Besides, it's not like Jared's going to be around to bitch about it.
He disconnects the call and turns back around, shoving his phone in his pocket. “So,” he starts and Brayden hits the pause button. “You're crashin' here tonight,” he goes on and Brayden nods, like he was pretty sure that was going to happen anyway. “And since you have school tomorrow, you should probably save that game and we'll pick it up later, okay?”
He doesn't argue. Doesn't say a word as he saves the game and then eases off the floor, reverting four hours back to before he and Jensen were actually talking and laughing and having a pretty good time. He moves with practiced ease to the couch and sinks into the cushions.
“What are you doing?” Jensen asks dumbly.
“Bed time, right?” Brayden asks, as though it should be pretty obvious what he's doing.
“Oh, whatever, dude. I don't know if you noticed when y'all pulled up earlier, but this house is kinda big. We have a guest room. More than one, actually.” He motions for Brayden to follow him out of the room and tilts his head slightly at the wide-eyed look of pure astonishment he gets from the kid. “Don't tell me all these fuckers you been stayin' with didn't bother to give your a damn bed to sleep in.” A shrug is his only response. “Jesus, it's like I'm friends with fucking animals. Come on, Kid. You're not sleepin' on the damn couch.”
Once he's shown Brayden to his room, Jensen heads back down the hall to his own bed, more exhausted than he's been at twelve thirty in what feels like a lifetime. He knows he's doing the right thing, letting Brayden stay with him for the night. He knows it was the right move to take him off of Tom's hands for the night, especially now that Tom's in whatever headspace he's in.
But as he tosses and turns and waits for sleep to befall his exhausted limbs, Jensen can't help wishing he was in that bungalow with Jared. Not because he was particularly longing for a trip to Tijuana or anything. He just doesn't remember the last time he fell asleep without Jared's body beside him, or his voice in his ear over the phone, at the very least. It's not supposed to be like this, and not even getting a good night from his boyfriend feels wrong somehow. Off.
He's toyed with the idea of calling, or even texting, but when Jared's upset about something, he doesn't just get over it and if Jensen knows his boy at all, he knows that the big man needs some time to get his thoughts in order. There's so much more at work here than just Jensen agreeing to watch Brayden, and Jared needs to figure it out.
He's not naïve enough to believe that Jared will talk to him when he does get it sorted out. He's not a 'caring and sharing' kind of guy. But he'll calm down and Jensen will know that everything's okay once he gets his carefree, easy/breezy boyfriend back.
Until then, he's pretty sure he's not going to be sleeping at all.
Chapter 4
Author:
raeschae Rating: R (for language)
Characters: Jared, Jensen, Tom, Danneel, Mike, OMC
Summary: Jared and Jensen are willing to do almost anything to help their friends. Almost. But what Chris is asking of them this time? It's the one thing they both swore they'd never do: Grow up.
Warnings: Well, there's a lot of swearing in front of a minor – does that require a warning?
Word Count: 5500 (give or a take a word or two)
Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own any human beings at present time. If I do, at some point, acquire one of the individuals mentioned here, you'll be the first to know.
A/N: I'm so completely overwhelmed by the response to this. I'm not sure if it's because of the writing or the tattooed boys, but it doesn't really matter, cause y'all rock out loud either way! So thanks again!
Graphic under the cut again, so beware if you, ya know, need to beware of that kind of thing. Alright:
“So, we're gonna need Mike to handle any incoming custom work between now and the Macy's deadline. Jensen's sole focus has to be on the line between now than then,” Tom explains, blue eyes darting around the store room of Ollie's pro shop. Well, sort of darting. Back and forth between Danneel and Jensen, and basically ignoring Mike's presence off to his left. He always does this. Pretends like Mike doesn't exist when he starts to feel guilty about what they do in the dark.
Jensen feels the tension in his shoulders and, not for the first time, thinks that Jared's idea to head to Mexico for the night is maybe the best one his boyfriend's ever come up with. They need it. Both of them. Not for them, as a couple, but for both of them as individuals. Neither of them has ever wanted to be part of corporate America – wouldn't be very punk of them, after all – but being business owners takes it's toll sometimes. Especially now that Jensen has agreed to design this commercial line for Macy's.
“I've got, like, three weeks, Tommy,” he reminds his friend with a shrug, nibbling on a stick of string cheese Danneel passed him when the meeting started.
Tom rolls his eyes, as though Jensen is a simple child. No way to treat his boss, but Jensen doesn't say anything. Mostly because, if he didn't act like a simple child most of the time, he wouldn't need a business manager like Tom in the first place. “You have no sketches, Jen,” he points out. “Twenty-one days. That's it. Twenty-one days to come up with a thirteen piece line.”
“Twenty,” Jensen corrects him distractedly, pulling at one of the strings of cheese and staring at it with fascination. When Tom makes a confused sound, Jensen lifts his eyes from the food to the man standing before him, looking not at all unlike Jensen's father used to when he caught his teenaged son drawing flaming skulls on his English term paper at the kitchen table. “I'm out of the office tomorrow,” he explains with a brief shake of his head.
“What? Why?” He doesn't add the obligatory 'why wasn't I informed', but it's evident in his tone.
“He's having steamy mansex on the beach in Mexico,” Danneel explains, typing away at the buttons on her blackberry. Jensen's pretty sure she's texting Mike, who is sitting immediately to her right, but he doesn't say anything because, well, he doesn't care.
Tom's eyebrows raise like someone pulled them on a string inside his skull. “You're going to TJ? On a Wednesday? For one day?” his voice climbs like it's the most asinine thing he's ever heard.
“Yeah,” Jensen answers with an easy shrug. It's not like he hasn't taken off for day trips with Jared a thousand times before. They all know that it's kind of a signature.
“How in the hell do you just up and go like that?” Tom asks, his voice climbing back down from the octave it rose a second ago. “No planning or anything, just,” he makes a weird upward motion with his hands, “up and go?”
“Oh, come on, Tommy,” Danneel cuts in, eyes raising from her blackberry with a vicious glint. If her voice wasn't already dripping with artificial saccharine, Jensen would know from the look in her eye that she's about to say something less-than-kind. “You're plenty spontaneous,” she adds, her head tilting to the side like a curious, mischievous puppy. “I mean, just look how many times you've ended up with your dick in Mike's mouth with no warning whatsoever.”
Jensen stands from his stool and rests a hand on Danneel's shoulder. “That's enough,” he warns, as seriously as he can. It's not like she isn't right, but it's drama he doesn't want in the work place. Who his people fuck is their own business, but if it interferes with Ollie's business, they all know it's off-limits.
“What?” she asks, wide, angelic eyes searching Jensen's face for signs that she's done something wrong.
But he doesn't answer her before Mike's soft voice inserts, “Just . . . let it go, Dani.” She tries to argue, but Mike leans back on the table they're sharing as a seat and nudges her with his shoulder. “You know I love you, but just . . . it's not,” he stops and risks a glance in Tom's direction, only to find Tom's eyes darting back to the folder in his massive hands. “Drop it.”
“So, starting Thursday, no interruptions,” Jensen cuts the conversation off by returning to the subject of the staff meeting. He's not a stickler for rules, but if he has a prayer of getting out of here and getting home to Jared by six, he needs to hurry things along.
Tom's cell phone rings and he bustles off to answer it as the bell dings over the front door. Danneel scurries off to help the customer, leaving Jensen alone with a crest-fallen looking Mike in the back room. It's a disturbing sight, being as Mike's rarely ever less-than-spastic.
“You okay, Mikey?” he asks, offering the guy half of his cheese.
Mike accepts it with a weak, hollow smile. “Like water off a duck's back, Jenny,” he feigns his devil-may-care tone, but it's seriously flat and not-at-all convincing. “Better off without all that bull shit anyway.”
It's true, but Jensen's pretty sure Mike doesn't believe it. “That you talking? Or Dani's script for what you're supposed to be telling yourself?”
“Doesn't make it any less true,” is Mike's answer as he stands and cards his fingers through his short, dark hair. Clapping a hand on Jensen's shoulder, there's a look in Mike's eye that is kind of hard to define. Almost like longing or something. “Have fun in TJ,” he says, and Jensen's pretty sure the guy's wishing he had someone to blow off work and take a random day trip with. If it's all the same, Jensen kind of wishes Mike had that, too.
He's a good guy, Mike Rosenbaum is. A little crazy sometimes, and wholly inappropriate always, but good. And he deserves better than a married closet-case who only acknowledges him when he stops pretending that he's not queer as a three dollar bill, and then goes right back to pretending that Mike's nothing more than a pair of lips and some fingers. Though he'd never say it – not in a million years, upon threat of death – Jensen kind of hopes he finds better some day. That Mike finds his Jared.
“Why don't you get outta here,” Jensen suggests in lieu of any real emotional discussion. It would only make Mike more uncomfortable, and Jensen's not exactly jonesin' for a heart-to-heart, either. Better to just let it roll. “Nobody's callin' in orders this afternoon, and Tom can handle the park kids until closing,” he goes on. “Go home. Get some sleep. You look like hell in a trash bag.”
Mike's grin is infectious as he squeezes Jensen's shoulder. “You're so good to me, Jenny,” he mocks.
Jensen nods and turns sincere eyes to the older man. “I really am. Too good. Some day, I'll wake up and realize it.” He points to the door and then looks back at Mike. “Go.”
“Thanks, man,” Mike says, a little more seriously this time, and it's all Jensen can do not to roll his eyes. Not like he wouldn't do it for any of his friends who needed a little down time to decompress and get their heads together.
Hell, it's not like that's not exactly why he and Jared are getting away tonight, after all.
“Ya know,” Jared's voice breaks through Jensen's thoughts as he stares at the bag in front of him on the bed, “I know you think you have this amazing mind, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to magically start throwing things into the bag just because you stare long enough.”
He feels the hands on his hips and the chest against his back and Jensen leans back, collapsing into Jared's embrace. “Body of a god and a sense of humor, too?” Jensen asks, dripping sarcasm from every word. “How did I get so lucky?”
The rumble of Jared's laughter reverberates through Jensen's body as the taller man dips his head to suck at the junction of his boyfriend's jaw and neck. “I don't know,” he echoes in sincere agreement. “You must be special or somethin'.”
With a laugh, Jensen sends an elbow back into Jared's stomach just hard enough to be playful. “You don't get off me, there's no Mexico.” he warns. “There's you, me, this bed, and some handcuffs I haven't bothered to bust out in a while, but there is no Mexico.”
Jared takes a step back, and that's when Jensen hears the soft clink of metal-on-metal. Turning his head, he sees Jared drop said handcuffs into his own bag and his only response is to wink when he meets Jensen's eye. “Seriously, man? We need to get on the road. Like . . . now.”
If the words I am in violent agreement with you have ever applied to any situation, it's this one. “A'right, fine. Give me two minutes,” he holds up his fingers to illustrate his point as the front doorbell rings.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Jared growls in frustration, throwing his arms in the air in a sign of defeat. “Seriously? I just wanna get the fuck outta here!”
Rolling his eyes at the childish dramatics, Jensen pulls Jared's mouth to his for a quick kiss, but Jared stops him from leaving. “Be nice,” Jensen warns and Jared just flips him off as he heads through the living room toward the front door.
It's not a huge house, the one he and Jensen bought together last year. Maybe it's a little bigger than the pair of them need by themselves, but the view of the ocean is spectacular, and there's plenty of room to host all of their friends, and a few of their plus one's to boot. Plus, it has a fucking theater. Never, in all of his years growing up on people's couches in San Antonio, did he ever think that he would someday live in a house with a theater.
Throwing the door open, he finds Tom on the other side. Jared doesn't have a problem with Tom usually – he's a pretty good guy, though his actions when it comes to Mike are pretty fuckin' reprehensible. Of course, Jared wasn't exactly “Boyfriend of the Year” before Jensen came along, either, so what's he gonna say about it all really?
“Hey, Tommy,” he greets, leaning easily on the door frame. Maybe if he just doesn't invite the guy in, he'll get the hint and take off.
“Hey, Jay. How's it' goin'?” Tom asks, blue eyes wide and hopeful. He's going to ask for something. Jared just knows he's going to ask for something that he doesn't think either of them will want to give him. He's got a knack for reading people, and Jared would bet this entire trip that Tom wants something work-related that Jensen's going to swear he can't get out of. It puts him on edge immediately.
“What's goin' on, man?” he asks, not trying to be rude, but unwilling to trade pleasantries.
“Jen home?” Tom asks, predictably.
Jared just nods. “Yeah, he's packin',” he answers.
Tom's eyes fly wide, and fill with what can only be described as guilt. “Oh, shit. TJ,” he gasps. “I totally forgot, man,” he apologizes and all but confirms Jared's suspicions.
“Hey, Tommy,” Jensen's voice sounds from over Jared's shoulder and he turns just enough to see Jensen drop his packed bag next to Jared's beside the couch. Thank God. Maybe they'll actually get out of here on time, if Jensen can find his balls and tell Tom to fuck off.
“Jen. I totally forgot about TJ,” Tom repeats what he just said to Jared and the younger of the two men leaves his boyfriend with his employee. If he sticks around, and Tom apologizes one more time, he's going to punch him in the mouth. Jared doesn't want to punch anyone. He wants to get on the road and fuck his boyfriend in the sand in Mexico.
With a shrug, Jensen resumes Jared's place in the doorway. “What's up, man?” he asks, and Jared doesn't stick around to listen to the answer. He also doesn't bother catching the kitchen door to the garage as he heads out to load the bags onto the bike.
At the crashing of the screen door, Jensen flinches. Jared's been tense all day, and now that they're behind schedule, he's twice as jumpy. It would almost be funny, the way neither of their lives run on a schedule except when they're heading out on a trip. Then it's like Jared has a time table that has to be strictly adhered to, like he can't wait to get the fuck away from his real life and just escape it all. Almost be funny, if he wasn't so fucking scary when he was all twitchy like that.
“Jamie wants to talk,” Tom says and Jensen can't help smiling.
As bad as he feels for Mike, as much as it pisses him off to see Tom treat him the way that he does sometimes, the big man is still his friend. And if he wants to reconcile with his wife after his one hundred and whatever-eth indiscretion? He can't help being happy for him. It's kind of Jensen's nature to see everyone around him happy with their lives.
“That's great, man,” he nods enthusiastically.
“I know, right? We're having dinner in,” he checks his watch, “About an hour.”
Jensen's pretty sure Tom didn't drive fifteen minutes out of his way to tell Jensen that he's reconciling with Jamie. “Rock on,” he nods his agreement.
And that's when Tom shifts his weight from one hip to the other and runs his fingers through his hair again. This is where the favor comes in. “Yeah,” he says. “Thing is, I can't really take Brayden to dinner with me, ya know?”
Jensen's stomach drops. No. Not now. This can't be happening now. “He's twelve, Tom. It's not like he needs a baby sitter for a couple of hours.” His voice is flat, even to his own ears, and he knows he has to wrap this up before Jared comes back in the house. Shit.
“He's also a stranger,” Tom points out, as though even Jensen wouldn't think of leaving the kid alone in his house when he doesn't know a damn thing about him.
Except that Jensen would leave Brayden alone. For a couple of hours anyway. If he was living here, Jensen would leave him with plenty of video games and pizza money to keep him busy while he and Jared went to a club or a bar or just out for dinner. He wouldn't think twice about it. And it makes him wonder if Jared hasn't been right this whole time. Maybe he really never did have any business thinking he could look after a kid.
“What do you want from me, Tom?” he asks with resignation heavy in his tone.
“Can you just,” Tom hesitates and his eyes turn hopeful once again. “It'll only be a few hours, Jen. Please, if you could just watch him for a few hours? I can't . . . I mean, I don't wanna ditch him, ya know?”
Tom's his friend, but he's also a manipulative bastard. Jensen's pretty sure that he's using words like 'ditch' just to make him feel more guilty. The bitch of it is that it's working.
“We're leaving in three minutes,” Jared butts into the conversation, his tone saying that conversation is over. Thanks for stopping by. Don't let the door hit ya in the ass on the way out.
“Jay,” he starts, trying to keep his tone as even and reasonable as possible.
But Jared's response is pretty damn definitive. “No, Jensen,” he shakes his head, and Jensen can see the tension in his neck, the way he's fighting to keep himself from exploding in front of company. “No,” he repeats for effect.
“Jay, man, come on.” Tom probably thinks he's helping his cause, but Jensen can see in Jared's eyes that the older man isn't helping anything at all. “It's just a couple hours. Then you can be on the road to Mexico same as before. I'm just asking,” he stops and turns wide, innocent eyes that belong nowhere near a man who routinely cheats on his spouse, to Jared. “I'm just asking for a little help in saving my marriage here.”
“Fuck you, Welling,” is Jared's angry response. “You wanna save your marriage, stop sleeping with men every other fucking week, okay? It's not our fucking job to save the motherfucking world, Jensen!”
Why he's getting yelled at when he hasn't said a goddamn word, Jensen doesn't know. Just knows he doesn't like it. He and Jared don't fight a lot, but when they do, it's pretty messy and loud and ugly. Outside of Chad and Chris, none of their friends have really seen it, and Jensen's pretty sure Tom's wishing he wasn't on the exclusive list at the moment.
“Why don't you settle the fuck down there, Sasquatch,” he shoots back in the face of Jared's outburst, noting that something flares in Jared's eyes. It's that thing that always pops up when he's backed into a corner, when he feels trapped. Like he doesn't have a choice and he really, really doesn't like it. “It's not like we can't afford a few more hours,” he goes on.
“No! Ya know what? I am all for helping our friends when they need it, but when these fuckers take advantage of it? All bets are off! We are always the ones to sacrifice so they can do whatever the hell they want, man, and it's not our fucking job, okay? It is not our job to save Tom's marriage, and soothe Mike's ego, and bail Chad's ass out of jail. It's not our job to fix Chris's whole fucked up family! And it is sure as shit not our job to put our plans on hold to play house with some fucking kid we don't even fucking KNOW!”
His breathing is ragged and labored by the time he finishes, face red. Jensen doesn't really know what to say. The one thing that he's always loved more than anything about Jared is the fact that he's as sacrificial and loyal as Jensen is when it comes to their friends. How long has he been harboring these feelings of resentment? How long has he been going through the motions, letting Jensen believe that he doesn't mind when he clearly does.
It doesn't piss him off that Jared's upset, or even that he's yelling. They've fought dirtier than this on more than one occasion. What does piss Jensen off is the fact that Jared's obviously been keeping something from him and he's choosing now, in front of someone else, right before a vacation, to vent it.
“Ya know what? Fuck you, Jared! Fuck you!” Jensen crossed the distance, leaving Tom at the door, paralyzed. “I don't know what the fuck is up your ass about this whole damn thing, but fuck you! I'm so sorry that my wanting to help our friends is such a fucking burden to you, you selfish son of a bitch! But I am not sorry that I give a goddamn about my best fucking friend in the world, or about this kid that doesn't have a goddamn choice, okay? I'm not sorry that I fucking care, and I'm not sorry that I want to help. I don't have to. It's not my fucking job. I choose to.
“Because my friends? That's all I've got, Jay. That's all we've got. Nothin' else, man. You know that! All we have is our friends!” Fuming, Jensen points to the back door. “So you can either take your ass to TJ and fuck yourself on the beach, or you can stay here with me and Brayden,” he issues the offer bitterly, practically spitting it at his boyfriend. “Either way, my ass is stayin' here!”
Jared's lip curls into a smirk at the ridiculous notion and then he scoffs when it becomes clear that Jensen's not joking. All day he's been waiting to get on the bike, get on the road, get to Mexico with Jensen. All day, he's been thinking about this escape, this vacation, from reality. And now the one thing that made him want to run away in the first place is fucking everything all to hell.
“Hope you and the kid have a great fucking time,” Jared hisses, rolling his eyes and he pushes away from the wall and stalks out of the house, the door banging even more angrily on his exit.
Tom waits until the bike's tires squeal out of the garage and down the driveway before offering Jensen a weak smile. “Thanks, man,” he starts.
But Jensen puts his hand up to stop his friend. “This is for Chris, man. He is the only person on planet fucking Earth I would pull that shit with Jared for. Not you, not Dani, not my own fucking mother.” Raking his fingers through his spiked hair, Jensen heaves a sigh and glares at Tom. “Get the fuck outta here 'fore I change my mind and chase him.”
Nodding wordlessly, Tom returns to his car and Jensen takes a moment to thank whatever muse inspired him to call the cleaning lady on the way to work this morning. And when Brayden appears on the porch as Tom's backing out of the driveway, he thinks about how fucked it is that Tommy couldn't even be bothered to accompany the kid to the front door.
Without so much as an introduction, the kid's just left on the porch and it punches Jensen in the gut. “Dude, get in here,” he tells the confused-looking boy, standing there with a backpack, staring at his shoes.
Brayden shuffles over the threshold and doesn't bother looking up when Jensen asks what he wants for dinner. He suggests Thai, pizza, and burgers from the bar up the road, but all of them illicit the same shrug and a whispered, “whatever,” from the kid.
Once Jensen's ordered the burgers and requested delivery, he motions for Brayden to follow him into the rec room. “You like video games?” Brayden nods. “You always this quiet? Cause, ya know, I coulda sworn I heard you talk last night.”
Brayden blushes a bright pink and looks at his hands again, not bothering to take his bag from his shoulders as he sinks to the edge of the couch. Jensen takes the chair and they sit in an awkward silence until the food comes. Throughout dinner, which Brayden devours like he hasn't had a decent meal in the last month, they both stare at the floor. The sounds of chewing and the creaking of Styrofoam containers are the only sound, apart from the slurping of straws and the scraping of fries dragged through ketchup.
Once he's thrown the trash out, Jensen comes back into the rec room and stands in front of the kid still perched precariously on the edge of the couch. “Alright, look . . . you're here for the next couple of hours, so . . . this whole silent treatment thing isn't really gonna work for me.” Though he doesn't raise his head, Jensen can see Brayden's eyes narrow as he focuses on the floor. “Fuckin' . . . Jay . . .”
He's not really sure why he's cursing his boyfriend's name or what it has to do with this moment, but Jensen can't help feeling like Jared would know what to do with this kid. Not just because Jared knows what it feels like to be abandoned, but because Jared always knows what to say to people. His talent might get him in the door with big-wigs and high-profile personalities, but it's Jared's own charm and ease that throw those doors wide open. He just knows what to do.
It's like, forty-five minutes after he left, Jensen wants him back. He hates fighting with Jared. More than he hates vegetables and family holidays he's no longer invited to attend. It makes him feel off-kilter, like the world is on its ear and he doesn't know how to right it.
“Sorry.”
Brayden's apology is mumbled so softly that Jensen almost misses it. When he looks up, the kid is staring at the floor again, his hands clenched tightly around the straps of his back pack. “What are you sorry for?” Jensen asks, oblivious.
“Everything,” Brayden answers after another long silence. His knuckles are white against the bag and his face is blazing with embarrassment.
Jensen doesn't consider himself overly-emotional. He's not stoic, but he's certainly not gushing with an over-abundance of emotional displays, either. Still, something about the way this kid is basically apologizing for his existence grips him just the wrong way and makes him want to punch the asshole who left him square in the fucking jaw.
“Brayden,” Jensen starts and then stops himself. “Look at me.” He's obeyed immediately and without hesitation, the boy's blue eyes wide and filled with something that looks like fear or anxiety. Sinking back into the chair, Jensen holds his hands out and tries to appear as relaxed as possible. This kid will mistake his anger toward his father as anger toward him, and that's the last thing Jensen wants, or needs. “None of this shit is your fault, okay?”
“I know,” he mutters almost inaudibly.
Standing, Jensen walks to the television and sinks to the floor, rearranging chords and controllers. “We don't scare easy, okay? Me and my friends, we pretty much live on horror films and hangovers the fucking devil would wince at, ya know?” Jensen laughs and shakes his head, noting that Brayden is following his every move. “But you? You terrify the holy shit outta us, man. Cause you're . . . you're like this . . . not-fucked-up person, and the rest of us? We're a fuckin' train wreck.” That's the best explanation he can come up with on short notice and he hopes it makes sense, but when he extends a controller Brayden just considers him curiously. “We gonna play or what?”
He's well aware of how many f-bombs he just dropped in front of a middle school-aged kid, but Jensen doesn't fucking care. He decided a long damn time ago that he would never, ever compromise who he is for anybody. If he can teach this kid anything in the two hours that he's in charge of his well-being, it's going to be that. Be who you are and don't fucking apologize for it.
By the time his phone rings in his pocket, Jensen's lost all track of the hour. So it's kind of a shock when he realizes it's after midnight. “Dude, where are you?” he asks Tom.
“I'm,” Tom stops and Jensen thinks maybe he's . . . crying? “It's over, man. We're over.”
“Whoah. What?” Jensen drops his controller and Brayden shoots him an inquisitive look before reaching over to pause the game. Shaking his head, Jensen covers the mouth piece with his hand. “Go ahead and play without me,” he offers, standing and walking from the room. “What do you mean it's over?”
“Well, apparently, I'm gay,” Tom announces, as though it's news to him.
“Well, no shit, Einstein,” Jensen countered without thinking. Really? Tom's the only person on the planet who is possibly surprised by this revelation.
“I just . . . I don't know what to do, man. I feel lost,” Tom goes on. Rambling. Like his brain hasn't quite caught up with his lips yet. “Can you . . . look, I know I promised it would only be a couple of hours, but do you think you could . . . “
“Yeah, sure, of course. Just,” Jensen casts a glance over his shoulder and then back when he's sure that Brayden's engrossed in the game. “Get some sleep, okay? I got it covered.” He wants to suggest Tom head over to Mike's and just be with the person he's supposed to be with, but he's not sure that's the best idea. After everything Mike's endured, he's not sure Tom will make him happy like he thinks he will. He's not sure Tom will ever really be happy at all.
And he doesn't know why, but he really doesn't want him looking after Brayden right now, either. Not when he can't form a coherent sentence and Jensen's pretty sure he's less-than-sober. Keeping the kid overnight seems the like the least that he can do. Besides, it's not like Jared's going to be around to bitch about it.
He disconnects the call and turns back around, shoving his phone in his pocket. “So,” he starts and Brayden hits the pause button. “You're crashin' here tonight,” he goes on and Brayden nods, like he was pretty sure that was going to happen anyway. “And since you have school tomorrow, you should probably save that game and we'll pick it up later, okay?”
He doesn't argue. Doesn't say a word as he saves the game and then eases off the floor, reverting four hours back to before he and Jensen were actually talking and laughing and having a pretty good time. He moves with practiced ease to the couch and sinks into the cushions.
“What are you doing?” Jensen asks dumbly.
“Bed time, right?” Brayden asks, as though it should be pretty obvious what he's doing.
“Oh, whatever, dude. I don't know if you noticed when y'all pulled up earlier, but this house is kinda big. We have a guest room. More than one, actually.” He motions for Brayden to follow him out of the room and tilts his head slightly at the wide-eyed look of pure astonishment he gets from the kid. “Don't tell me all these fuckers you been stayin' with didn't bother to give your a damn bed to sleep in.” A shrug is his only response. “Jesus, it's like I'm friends with fucking animals. Come on, Kid. You're not sleepin' on the damn couch.”
Once he's shown Brayden to his room, Jensen heads back down the hall to his own bed, more exhausted than he's been at twelve thirty in what feels like a lifetime. He knows he's doing the right thing, letting Brayden stay with him for the night. He knows it was the right move to take him off of Tom's hands for the night, especially now that Tom's in whatever headspace he's in.
But as he tosses and turns and waits for sleep to befall his exhausted limbs, Jensen can't help wishing he was in that bungalow with Jared. Not because he was particularly longing for a trip to Tijuana or anything. He just doesn't remember the last time he fell asleep without Jared's body beside him, or his voice in his ear over the phone, at the very least. It's not supposed to be like this, and not even getting a good night from his boyfriend feels wrong somehow. Off.
He's toyed with the idea of calling, or even texting, but when Jared's upset about something, he doesn't just get over it and if Jensen knows his boy at all, he knows that the big man needs some time to get his thoughts in order. There's so much more at work here than just Jensen agreeing to watch Brayden, and Jared needs to figure it out.
He's not naïve enough to believe that Jared will talk to him when he does get it sorted out. He's not a 'caring and sharing' kind of guy. But he'll calm down and Jensen will know that everything's okay once he gets his carefree, easy/breezy boyfriend back.
Until then, he's pretty sure he's not going to be sleeping at all.
Chapter 4
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-09-19 06:12 am (UTC)Great chapter
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Date: 2009-09-19 06:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 06:38 am (UTC)looking forward for more.. Awesome chapter.. ^_^
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Date: 2009-09-19 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-09-19 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 01:46 pm (UTC)Hopefully, I'll figure out how to do a master post when the whole thing's up, but I'm not even going to pretend to be capable of doing something more complicated than posting a these individual chapters at the time. Seriously? I'm so illiterate about this stuff, it's ridiculous.
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Date: 2009-09-19 02:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 01:09 pm (UTC)*shakes head*
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Date: 2009-09-19 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 06:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-09-19 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-20 03:19 am (UTC)But oh Jensen! Trying to bond with the Brayden and all...that was so sweet! He just kinda let his other problems go off to the side so he could keep lil B. entertained...he's such an all around great character! Self-sacrificing, non-complaining (much)...these two are like guys I wouldn't mind chilling with, you know? That's what I love most about it, I think!
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Date: 2009-09-20 04:16 am (UTC)Awe - you can't punch Jared. We love Jared! He's just pissed 'cause he's supposed to be having steamy sex with Jensen in Mexico. Good guy with good intentions or not, I think I'd be pissed at him, too! Or maybe I'm just making excuses . . . I got a pocketful of 'em for Tommy, too . . . wanna hear 'em?
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Date: 2010-03-29 01:43 am (UTC)Truer words were never said.
Jensen missing Jared next to him when he goes to sleep? yeah, I feel that.
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Date: 2010-03-29 01:46 am (UTC)And yeah, I think I'd miss Jared sleeping beside me, too . .. . if I was, ya know, lucky enough to get used to it in the first place. ;)