Chapter Text
This is what Jensen remembers:
The jeans that Nana gave him for his birthday are cold and damp and stink of pee. The thick arm pressing against his throat is wearing a shirt that smells of sweat and cigarettes. He can’t breathe. His head feels like it’s floating, his vision is blurry. When he kicks his legs he only hits air. Everything is fading away: the screams, the sirens, the flashes of red and blue, when...
A shout. A loud crack. His head jerks back as something warm splatters his face. He’s dropped on the ground. There’s a weird taste in his mouth. He sucks air into his lungs and, when he lets it out, it’s with a scream that won’t stop.
This is what Jensen doesn’t remember:
Everything else.
----------
Present day
To the best of Jared’s knowledge, most of his fellow high school graduates based their choice of college on at least one of five things: grades, curriculum, expenses, convenience and – believe it or not – weather. Jared’s pretty sure he’s the only one that picked his destination from an online gay-friendly colleges list.
The duffel bag feels heavy as he hoists it up on his shoulder. Or maybe he should say light, considering it holds everything he owns now. He steps off the bus, knees aching after the long ride, and looks around, frowning a little before making a turn left. His stomach rumbles so he stops at a coffee shop near campus to buy a large macchiato and a blueberry muffin, ordering and paying while studying the printed out map in his hand. He grabs the coffee and the paper bag with a distracted "Thanks" when it’s handed to him and walks out.
The muffin is good. The coffee is fucking amazing, but that might be the exhaustion talking.
Fifteen minutes later he’s signing in at the college dorm. He’s late, the semester started two days ago, but he has his reasons, and they accept them with a nod and a curious look that shifts away when he bluntly meets it. He holds his head high, his shoulders squared, the smile reserved but polite and hopes they can’t hear the pounding of his heart.
When he finally finds his room it has crap spread over both beds and a scrawny blond guy sitting by the open window, smoking.
“Shit,” the guy says when Jared opens the door, quickly hiding the cigarette behind his back. Then he spots Jared’s duffle bag and relaxes. “Sorry, man. Thought you were the dorm Nazi.”
Jared frowns. He puts the bag down on the floor and looks around. “No. I’m your roommate.”
“Aw, fuck,” the guy groans. “I was hoping you’d died or something, so I could have the room to myself. No offense.”
Jared raises his eyebrows, not so much offended as wary at having apparently been doomed to share a room with a rude, unconsidered, douchey slob. “None taken. I’m Jared.”
The guy raises the cigarette in salute and blows smoke out the corner of his mouth. “Chad. Whazzup?”
Jared shrugs. “Which bed am I taking?” he asks.
“Don’t really care. I’ve been using both. Saves me sleeping on the wet spot once the chicks are gone.” Chad laughs at Jared’s horrified expression. “Just kidding. Take the left one. No, the other left. Wait, let me move my shit.” He flips the still burning cigarette out the window then jumps off the windowsill and goes over to the bed on the right, sweeping the piles of clothes onto the floor. “There you go.”
Jared looks at him.
Chad sighs dramatically. “Jeez. I’ll clean up later, mom.”
“Or you can do it now.”
He waits, and after a moment’s hesitation that Chad seems to spend on calculating Jared’s size – which is considerable – and the chances of keeping his balls intact if he refuses – which are pretty good, but Jared’s not about to tell him that – he rolls his eyes and gathers his things off the floor to dump them on his own bed.
“There,” he sneers. “Happy now?” Then mutters under his breath, “Figures I get stuck with the OCD gay guy.”
Jared goes still. He blinks a couple of times. His heart speeds up in his chest. He says, “Don’t worry, you’re safe. I like my boys pretty.”
“Hey! I’m beautiful!” Chad protests. “You’d be lucky to tap this, bitch.” Then he laughs and slaps Jared on the shoulder. “Welcome to college, buttfucker.”
Jared breathes out. “Suck my dick, asshole,” he says, and that’s how he steps out of the closet he’s been hiding in since he was twelve years old. The air may smell of old gym socks and leftover pizza but it’s still the best he’s breathed in years.
Being out isn’t just about not having to pretend he’s interested in girls anymore. It’s walking down the hallway without having to wonder if he’s swaying his hips. It’s talking without worrying if his voice is too high, or if he’s using words that sound ‘queer’. It’s being able to wear clothes that look nice and get appreciative comments thrown his way instead of derogative and sneering. It’s looking back when someone looks at him. It’s not being scared.
It’s having to put up with Chad’s idea of open-minded support.
“Rule number one, no assfucking when I’m in the room.”
“No pussylicking when I’m here,” Jared shoots back, not even bothering to look up from his textbook.
Chad tilts his head in thought then nods. “Deal. Rule number two, no jerking off either unless we’re both drunk.”
Jared snorts. “I’m not jerking you off, asshole,” he says and turns a page.
Chad makes a gagging sound. “I meant separately, fucker. I know I’m hot but keep your gay fantasies about me to yourself.”
Jared flips him the finger. “Rule number three, stop stealing my lube.”
“Dude! I don’t... Fine. Whatever. Not like you’re using it. Rule number four, no sleeping with each other’s sisters. Or, in your case, brother.”
The pain is sharp and sudden but Jared pushes it down to the pit of his stomach. “Do you even have a brother?” he asks, voice cool.
“Nope. Do you have a sister?”
“No.” He stands up, throwing the book on his bed. “Rule number five, no more smoking in here. The room fucking stinks, man.”
“Aw, come on!” Chad whines.
“It’s only a matter of time before someone catches you. I’m doing you a favor, dude.”
Chad lets out a loud suffering sigh. “Fine. Unless it’s weed, right?”
Jared hesitates a moment, but then he shrugs. Might as well get the full college experience, right? “Fine.”
Chad’s grin is slow and lazy. “Sweet. I like you better already. Oh, rule number six, if we get horny while high and wake up the next morning wearing each other’s underwear? We don’t speak of it. Ever.”
Jared shudders. “I just threw up a little in my mouth. And I actually like cock. If we get horny while high I’m throwing you out of the fucking room, man.”
Being out is being himself for the first time since he realized he was going to Hell.
Somehow Jared assumed going to college would include getting laid. A lot. So far it’s not really happening.
“What’s your fucking problem?” Chad shouts over the loud music. He already has a hickey the size of a dime on his neck. “You don’t turn down blowjobs, man!”
“That? Was a girl,” Jared explains patiently. “I’m gay. Do I have to draw you the picture again?”
“It’s a mouth sucking your dick! Who cares what’s attached to it?”
Jared ignores him. He’s scanning the crowd, looking for... That one? The guy meets his gaze then looks away again, smirking. He laughs, jerking his head Jared’s way, and his buddies look over, smirking as well. One of them makes an insulting gesture that has Jared’s cheeks burning. He purses his lips, exasperated, and moves his gaze elsewhere.
It would help if his gaydar actually worked instead of just buzzing happily every time it sees a nice ass or some pretty eyes. So far he’s been shot down twice and once only avoided being beaten up because he was like two feet taller than the very homophobic shithead he’d made the mistake of hitting on. Frankly this whole party blows. As far as he can tell he’s the only gay guy within a five-mile radius. So much for picking a gay-friendly college.
“I’m going home,” he says. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”
He turns to find out he’s talking to air. He spots Chad on the far side of the room, leaning into a girl that’s backing away, a wary look on her face. Right. Jared sighs, drains his beer and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye. He’s standing outside the house, absently wondering if he can find the way back to campus on his own, when someone yanks his arm, pulling him into the shadows.
“What the–” is all he manages before there’s a hand cupping his groin and lips latching on to his. “Jesus!” he gasps, noting the hint of stubble rubbing at his chin and that’s pretty much all he needs to know. He kisses back, sucking the guy’s tongue into his mouth and bucking into the hand rubbing his dick. It’s unbelievably hot. He groans in protest when the guy suddenly pulls off but then he hears a thud and realizes the guy has dropped to his knees and is working Jared’s fly open. Whoa!
“Wait, we can’t... Oh. Okay. Oh!”
The thing about being gay in the middle of the goddamn Bible Belt is that the only blowjobs you can get are from girls. Which for Jared only worked if he closed his eyes and stuffed his fingers in his ears while trying to ignore the brush of long hair against his thighs and the smell of cherry lip-gloss in the air. Which is to say, it didn’t really work at all. This? This works. This works really fucking well. A little too well even…
“I’m gonna... Dude! Jesus, you gotta –”
His head thuds against the wall, and then he’s coming, cock buried deep down the guy’s throat. It takes him a moment to get his breath back, but when he does the guy is already on his feet and turning away. Instinctively Jared shoots a hand out and grabs the guy’s wrist.
“Wait,” he says and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back, jeans around his thighs and his jaw is hurting like a sonofabitch. Through the ringing in his ears he can hear the sound of feet hitting the pavement as his mystery guy disappears into the night.
“I just wanted to ask you your name,” Jared groans, quickly hauling up his jeans and tucking himself in before rolling over onto his knees and standing up. “Fucking psycho.”
His butt hurts from hitting the porch – he actually thinks there might be splinters – and his jaw aches from the blow but the rest of him feels amazing. Now that he’s over the shock he has to admit that as first experiences go, this one ranked pretty high on his fantasy list. Still, all fantasies aside, he hadn’t really expected to end up in a wham-bam-thank-you-man scenario.
When he licks his lips they taste of coffee and mint and there’s a faint scent of lemon in the air.
-------
Jensen been at it for hours when Chris finally wakes up and stumbles out of bed. It's not morning, not really. More like late, late night. He thinks. He has a tendency to lose track of time when he's working. Judging by Chris's look – a mixture of sadness, irritation and resignation – whatever time it is, it's not one to be awake at.
“You know, drinking all that coffee ain’t gonna help you sleep,” Chris says grumpily.
Jensen ignores him. He’s drinking coffee, because he can’t sleep, not the other way around.
“What are you drawing?” Chris asks, moving around the kitchen island to glance over Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen quickly hides it with his hand but it’s too late. “Who’s that?”
It’s sharp, accusing, but Jensen pretends he can’t hear it. There’s a strange feeling in his stomach. A little like excitement, he thinks, although that’s not really an emotion he’s sure how to identify.
“Another john of yours?”
Jensen recoils at the venom in his voice. He pushes away from the island, violently shrugging Chris’s hand off his arm. Chris backs away, hands lifted in mock apology.
“I’m sorry but what the hell am I supposed to call them? They’re not even one-night stands, man, they’re just... Fuck, Jensen, the way you have sex you might as well get paid for it.”
The fury is so sudden, so violent, Jensen doesn't even have time to think, just swirls around, his fist hitting Chris straight on the jaw. ‘Fuck you,’ he mouths, spit flying from between his bared teeth. ‘Not a whore!’
Chris straightens up from where he'd stumbled into the couch, a drop of blood slipping out of a small split in his lip. He looks, if anything, even more shocked than Jensen feels. Then suddenly the anger is back, magnified to a thousand.
“Then stop treating yourself like one!” he yells back, eyes blazing. “You’re better than this, Jensen! You’re worth more!”
Jensen throws his middle finger in Chris’s face.
Chris glares at him. His nostrils flare. Once. Twice. He swallows then takes a step back, jaw set. “Fine! If that’s how you want to play it then fine. You wanna whore yourself out to an early death? Go ahead! But I’m not gonna stand by and watch you do it. Everyone has their limit, and this is mine, Jensen. I can’t do this anymore. You’re on your own.”
Jensen’s heart stops. He stares at Chris. At the angry twist of his mouth, at the knuckle-shaped bruise on his jaw, at the tears in his eyes. At the defeat he can see there and the resolve Chris is fighting to retain. Jesus, he means it! He really means it.
Jensen hitches his breath. “Chris,” he whispers.
Chris’s eyes widen. “You asshole!” he chokes out. “You fucking shithead!” The tears flow over, and he wipes at them angrily with the back of his hand. “You say that like... You know how many times you’ve said my name? Twice! Ten years we’ve known each other, and this is the third time you’ve said my goddamn fucking name!”
Jensen takes a step forward, but Chris just backs away, shaking his head. “No. You can’t just... You fucking manipulative COCKSUCKER!”
Jensen reaches out for him, catching him by the wrist. ‘Please,’ he begs with his eyes. ‘I can’t do this without you. Please.’
“Fuck you! Fuck you and your fucking trauma! Why can’t you just get over it and move the fuck on like a fucking normal person? Why the hell can’t you just get better? Why, Jensen?”
Jensen stands silent as Chris turns his back and storms into the bathroom, wincing when the door slams behind him. He doesn’t know. He wishes he did. He wishes he knew how to not be such a miserable excuse for a human being.
-------
“You ever gonna stop moping, man?”
Jared doesn’t bother looking up. He’s lying on his bed, head propped up on pillows, ankles crossed, book resting on his chest. “I’m not moping. I’m studying. You should try it sometimes.”
Chad throws a rolled pair of dirty socks at Jared’s head to get his attention. He catches it easily, eyes still on the page. “You’re studying on a Friday night,” Chad says. “That qualifies as moping.”
“Not when you have a test Monday morning, it doesn’t,” Jared says, throwing the socks out the open window. Chad doesn’t even bat an eye.
“I thought you gays were supposed to be, you know, gay,” he complains. “Like happy and glittery and singing Abba.”
“Let me pass that memo to Matthew Shepard,” Jared says drily. “Oh wait...”
Chad just flips him the finger. “Don’t give me that shit. The only one oppressing your royal gayness is you. Come on, let’s go out and get some.”
Jared shakes his head.
“Are you still mooning over your mystery fuck? Jesus, that’s so fucking high school. Okay, how about you track him down then?”
Jared lowers the book to give Chad a pointed look. “I told you, I don’t know who it was. He just... blew me. And then he ran away. It was dark. I didn’t even see his face.”
Chad shrugs. “Probably didn’t want you to. Chances are he was ugly as fuck. But hey, you got your dick sucked. What’s the problem?”
Jared opens his mouth to answer then closes it again. Disturbingly enough Chad has a point. Instead of moping over a guy he doesn’t even know, he should go out and meet new people. It’s what he came here for, right?
“Okay, I’m game. Where you wanna go?”
Chad’s grin is disturbingly wide. “Trust me, it’s gonna be EPIC!”
“You call this epic?” Jared asks disappointed as he looks around The Black Bean. It seems slightly familiar; he thinks he might have stopped by here the day he arrived. He can’t really remember. Whatever. It looks just as boring as any other campus dive. Except... uhm... Oh come on! “Dude, did you bring me to an LGBT meeting?”
Chad rolls his eyes. “You make it sound like AA. It’s not a meeting, it’s Queer-4-All night. Pansies like you reaching out, touching me, touching yoooou...” he sings, off-key, and Jared punches him in the arm. “Ow! What was that for?”
“You told me to touch you,” Jared says drily. “You never said how. Explain where this constitutes as help,” he adds skeptically.
“Okay, see? Every single dude in here is gay or bi or whatever, right? So you can hit on whoever you want and not have to worry that they’re homophobic assholes that wanna punch your face in.”
Jared blinks. “That’s... actually not such a bad idea.”
“It’s not?” Chad asks surprised then grins like a maniac. “Of course it’s not! It’s the best idea ever! Say it. I’m the man!”
“You’re the man, Chad.” Jared gives him a smug smile. “You’re the man who’s gonna have gay cooties all over your ass if you hang around much longer, you know that right?”
“Relax, I have it all figured out.” Chad leers. “I’m gonna tell them I’m bi, and tonight I’m looking for a woman, ‘cause there really is such a thing as too much cock.”
Jared can’t help it, he starts laughing. It feels good. He hasn’t really laughed much in the last few years. Chad can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s also a damn good comedy relief, especially when he doesn’t mean to be.
“Good luck with that. I’ll be over here, drinking coffee and watching the lesbians shoot you down,” he says with a smirk and walks backwards toward the counter, fake shooting an outraged Chad with finger guns.
He’s still smiling as he turns around and comes face-to-face with the guy working behind the counter. Well, more like face-to-top-of-the-head seeing as the guy has his gaze set on the floor and even takes a step back as Jared comes closer, as if intimidated. Not the first time that’s happened – Jared is aware of being pretty damn huge in the eyes of most – so he keeps the smile plastered on his face and the tone friendly.
“Hey, I’d like a macchiato?” he says, and the guy’s head snaps up.
Oh wow. Beautiful green eyes in a fucking gorgeous face, staring at him all wide and oddly vulnerable. The guy opens his mouth then closes it again, stupidly long eyelashes blinking slowly. He swallows, and Jared automatically follows the movement of the long throat with his eyes, feeling a little dry-mouthed himself to tell the truth. Shit. Figures on a Queer-4-All night he gets a hard-on for the only guy who might not be gay but simply working.
“Hi,” Jared tries again when the silent stare starts to feel a little unsettling. “Uhm... macchiato?”
The guy snaps out of his stupor, and with a jerked nod goes to make Jared’s coffee. When he comes back, Jared has his change ready, adding a few extra because, fuck, gay or straight, the guy is worth it for the eye candy alone.
“Thanks!” he says brightly and takes a sip. “Oh wow, that’s really good. You should get a raise for making the best macchiato in the entire history of macchiatos ever.”
Sure, it’s lame, but he’d rather flirt with the incredibly cute guy behind the counter than throw himself into the shark pool on this side.
The corner of the guy’s mouth twitches, as if he’s either trying to smile or fighting not to. He drops his gaze then glances up again, looking a little wary.
“So,” Jared continues, putting on his warmest smile, “you have gay nights often?”
The guy goes absolutely still, eyes blinking so slowly it’s as if he’s in a whole other world. Jared isn’t sure what he said, but obviously it was wrong somehow.
“I meant this,” he says, waving his hand at the crowd, and the guy visibly relaxes before giving a small shrug. Okay, so gaydar still not working. Unless maybe the guy is still in the closet and thought Jared just outed him. Not that he did, he was just talking. Well, flirting. Trying anyway. He’s starting to think he really sucks at it. “I’m Jared by the way,” he adds and sticks out his hand.
The guy stares at it for a moment then swallows and wipes his hand on the black waist apron before accepting the handshake. “Jensen.”
He blinks as the word leaves his lips, looking a little surprised. His voice is so quiet Jared can hardly hear him; and a little hoarse, like he’s still tasting last night’s whiskey in his throat. It sounds fucking hot, enough to send shivers down Jared’s spine. He holds on to the hand a little longer, until he notices Jensen twitching, as if he’s fighting not to pull away. He reluctantly lets go, and Jensen instantly steps back, eyes to the counter. He starts gathering up the change Jared dropped, but his hands shake so much half of them end up hitting the counter, where they roll off and onto the floor.
“Oops. Let me,” Jared offers and comes around the corner to crouch beside Jensen, quickly picking up the coins before looking up with a grin. Only to find himself mere inches away from Jensen’s very pale face. He’s staring at Jared with a panicked look in his wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He’s close enough that Jared can see a million freckles dotting his skin, and he can feel Jensen’s breath, quick and erratic and smelling of coffee and... mint?
Jared blinks. No. Seriously? He can’t be that lucky. He stands up slowly, taking a quick step back when Jensen goes from pale to looking absolutely terrified at having Jared suddenly looming over him.
“Hey, this is gonna sound weird but... Did we meet at a party last Friday?”
Jensen gets to his feet and backs slowly away, all the while shaking his head. He turns and quickly walks away, ripping off his apron and throwing it at a pretty, dark-haired girl that sits reading on a chair in the corner, clearly on a break.
“Jensen, what–” she says confused as he disappears out a back door. Then she spots Jared and her face hardens. She stands up and throws the book to the floor before storming over, Jensen’s apron clutched in her hand. “What the fuck did you say to him?” she hisses.
Jared blinks surprised. “Nothing. I just thought I knew him from somewhere,” he explains awkwardly.
Her glare turns into pure disgust. “What the fuck is your problem? It’s been twelve fucking years for Christ’s sake! Just leave him alone.” She turns around and goes after Jensen, leaving Jared to stare after her, feeling completely lost.
Okay. What the hell was that about?
“Do you know a Jensen? Works at The Black Bean?”
Chad pauses mid-lick then finishes running his tongue over the edge of the paper before rolling the joint closed. “Why you asking?”
Jared shrugs. “Nothing special. I just had a... weird encounter with him at that gay thing you dragged me to.”
Chad snorts. “Weird. Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jared snaps, and Chad looks up in surprise. “Sorry. He just... struck me as a nice guy.”
Chad stares at him. “Holy crap, you like him!”
“What? No! I...” He sighs. “What if I do?”
If anything Chad’s eyes widen even further. “Dude, no. Nononono. Bad idea. That guy’s got a serious case of the crazy, okay? I’m not kidding here. He’s actually insane.”
“Oh come on –” Jared starts, but Chad violently shakes his head, cutting him off.
“Nuhuh. He doesn’t talk, like ever. You look at him a little funny, and he freaks the fuck out. I’m telling you, I was there with this chick, and she dropped her cup on the floor? The guy peed his pants. Like literally, he just stood there frozen with a big stain on his jeans. They had to half-carry him out of there.”
Jared stares at Chad. “You’re not lying,” he says slowly.
“I’m not lying!” Chad flails. “Who the hell lies about something like that? The guy is a fucking head case. Stay away from him.”
“Okay, okay. Chill. I was just curious.”
Chad gives him a look. “Yeah, right. Look, I get it. The guy’s hot. Even I can see that. But you don’t want to sleep with some wacko who might go crazy and bite your dick off.”
“Jesus, Chad. Shut up. That’s just...” Jared stands up, pushing away the offered joint. “I need some fresh air.”
“Stay away from crazy motherfuckers who want to bite your dick off!” Chad yells after him, startling a guy that’s walking down the hall. Jared offers the guy a tight smile and slams the door shut in Chad’s face. Freak.
He really didn’t plan on it but fifteen minutes later he’s standing drenched outside The Black Bean, hands thrust into his pockets and shoulders shot up to his ears to try and keep the rain from running under his collar. A glance through the window shows Jensen standing behind the counter, staring into space. The place seems to be otherwise deserted, not surprising in this weather. The dark-haired girl isn’t around as far as Jared can tell, although she might be out of his range of vision. But he’s come all this way, and he’s cold and wet and... Oh, what the hell.
The small bell above the door jingles as he walks in, but Jensen doesn’t even glance his way. Instead his eyes drop to the counter, and he stands there, unmoving, as Jared makes his way over.
“Hey,” he means to say when water starts running into his eyes and he shakes his head on instinct, trying to get the mop of wet hair out of his face.
It happens so fast he just barely manages to shoot out his arm to catch Jensen by the collar of his shirt before his chin hits the counter. Shit. “Dude, you okay?”
Jensen just stares at him, frozen.
Not the first time having long arms has proven an advantage, Jared thinks, as he rounds the counter corner, still holding Jensen up by his shirt. Once Jared’s on the other side he hauls Jensen up and pulls him close with one arm around his shoulder and the other steadying him at his waist. This time there is no doubt. He knows that body. The curve of that hip, the strength of those arms. The smell of coffee and mint on his breath and lemon on his hair.
“It is you,” he says stunned. “That night... That was you.”
Jensen whimpers, and Jared jerks out of his daze. The guy looks absolutely terrified. He’s so pale the freckles seem grey in his face. He’s shaking, and Jared pulls him tighter on instinct. Jensen sucks in his breath, the green eyes roll back in his head, and just like that he goes limp in Jared’s arms. Shit.
Jared looks around in panic. “Hello?” he shouts. “Is anyone here? I need some help!”
There’s a loud bang and a guy comes rushing out from the back room, stopping in his tracks when he sees Jensen unconscious in Jared’s arms. “What the hell did you do?” he growls. He’s across the space in barely a second, ripping Jensen away and lowering him to the floor. “Jensen? Shit. Jensen, come on!”
“He just –” Jared tries, but the guy throws up his hand, shutting him up.
“His face is wet. Why is his face wet?” he demands to know, grabbing a towel from a hook on the counter and frantically drying Jensen’s face with it. “Did you spray his face? What the fuck’s the matter with you?”
“I just... It’s raining. I was shaking my hair out of my eyes. I didn’t... Look, what’s going on?”
The guy looks up at that, blue eyes piercing, and Jared involuntarily takes a step back. “You’re that guy. The one who came in last Friday,” the guy says, and it sounds so vicious Jared backs further away.
“Yeah, I...” His mouth snaps shut as the guy stands up and gets in his face – or rather his chest, considering Jared’s almost a foot taller.
“Get out! Get the fuck out of here or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for stalking!”
Jared blinks. “What? Hey, no! I’m not...” Shorty pushes him and he stumbles backwards, hitting his ass on the counter. “Wait. Will you just listen to me? I’m not stalking him. I have no idea who he is! I just came to get coffee, and he freaked out, okay?”
“Don’t even try it,” Shorty growls. “You told Sophia you recognized him!”
“I met him at a party! Weekend to last. That’s all.”
Shorty’s jaw tightens. “Now I know you’re lying. Jensen doesn’t do parties.”
“Okay, okay. It was more like... outside.” To his horror, Jared can feel himself blushing. “He kinda jumped me in the dark and... you know,” he says, fidgeting.
Shorty stares at him. He blinks. Then he looks down at Jensen who’s still out cold on the floor. “Oh. Oh fuck. Jesus, Jensen...” He rubs a hand over his face, groaning. “This is so screwed up.”
Jared swallows. “Look, is he gonna be okay? I really didn’t mean to spook him. I just wanted to talk to him.”
“Jensen doesn’t talk, kid,” Shorty says, sounding more tired now than angry. “No offense, he just... He doesn’t talk, okay?”
“He talked to me,” Jared says awkward, and Shorty’s eyes snap up to stare at him again. “Well, you know, he told me his name. Last time I was here.”
“He talked to you?” Shorty looks stunned. “Actually opened his mouth and spoke out loud?”
“Uhm, yes?” Jared glances down at Jensen. He doesn’t look quite as pale, but he’s not exactly the picture of health either. “Shouldn’t we move him somewhere more comfortable?”
Shorty jerks out of his stupor and looks down. “What? Yeah, I should...” He crouches by Jensen’s side and hauls him up to a sitting position. “Fuck, I’m too old for this shit,” he groans.
“Let me,” Jared offers, and before Shorty can tell him to fuck off he’s got Jensen’s arm slung over his neck and lifts him up, clutched to his chest. “Where can I put him?”
Shorty seems to hesitate, but then he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “He can be out for a while, and I was about to close up. We live just around the corner. You think you can carry him?”
Jared nods, adjusting his hold. Jensen is pretty thin, but he’s still a grown man, and the weight is considerable. It would be easier to carry him over the shoulder, but it doesn’t feel right, throwing the guy around as if he was a bag of potatoes. Plus this way Jared can see Jensen’s face, really close. And that’s a pretty sight he’d hate to miss.
He waits as Shorty locks the register and turns off all the lights, and then they head out. It’s stopped raining – finally! – and the autumn air is fresh as Jared breathes it in.
“I’m Chris by the way,” Shorty says as he locks the door. “Jensen’s friend.” It sounds a little odd, like it’s a lone position.
“Jared,” Jared says. “College freshman.”
“No kidding,” Chris snorts. “You still smell like fresh laundry and your momma’s apple pie.”
Jared stiffens. “Doubt it,” he says coldly, and Chris shoots him a curious glance.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to touch a nerve. You just look young is all I meant.”
“I’m eighteen,” Jared says, relaxing slightly. “Old enough to fuck and die but too young to drink,” he adds with a small twist of his lips.
Chris laughs. “Another cynic. You two should get on like a house on fire,” he says and nods at the man still out cold in Jared’s arms.
Jared frowns. “I thought Jensen didn’t talk?”
Chris shrugs. “He doesn’t. Not really. But hell, he can piss you the fuck off with just a raise of his eyebrow.”
Jared looks down at Jensen’s slack face and smiles a little. “Yeah?” He glances over at Chris, unsure. “Can I ask you something?”
The smile drops off Chris’s face. His shoulders visibly tense and his gaze turns guarded. “You can. Not sure I’ll answer though.”
“Fair enough.” Jared bites his lip. “I was just wondering... That night, was I...? Should I have stopped him? I mean, is he like...? Was I taking advantage of him?”
Chris laughs. It sounds cold and tired. “He’s not mentally disabled or anything. He just... sometimes does things he shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”
Jared swallows and pulls Jensen a little tighter to his chest. “Okay. That’s... good. I mean, obviously it’s not good for him. I was just worried I had, you know...”
Chris gives him a grim smile. “Jensen is an adult. He knows what he’s doing. He just doesn’t really know why he’s doing it.”
The last sentence is uttered so low Jared can barely make out the words. He gives Chris a confused glance but the man offers no further explanation, and suddenly they’re outside a tall building with Chris opening the door.
“First floor,” he says. “Come on up.”
Jared follows him up the stairs and through another door into a large studio apartment. “His bed is over there,” Chris says and nods toward the far side of the room under the big windows. “Just drop him in and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jared nods and walks across the room to lay Jensen’s limp form on the bed, then pulls away reluctantly, his arms and back aching from the weight. It feels weird to just walk away but the truth is he’s a stranger, this isn’t really his concern, and he can see that Chris is already anxious for him to leave.
“Let me know if I can do anything,” he still offers.
“We’ll be fine,” Chris says curtly.
“Right.” Jared bites his lip, not sure how to proceed. “Yeah, of course. I just... You think maybe...? Is it okay if I come by the coffee shop again? Or do you think...?” He stops, blushing a little.
Chris looks over at Jensen then back at Jared, a frown forming between his eyes, like something is bugging him. His lips purse, and the frown turns into a speculative gaze. “Wait a few days,” he finally says. “And just... don’t be pushy. If he doesn’t want you there, you leave. All right?”
Jared nods. “Right. Yeah. Here.” He pulls the small notebook he always carries with him out of his pocket and scribbles his name and number. “This is me. Don’t hesitate to call.”
Chris looks skeptical, but he accepts the note Jared holds out and pockets it. “Listen, kid. I don’t know what you think you’re getting yourself into here, but my advice would be to walk away and don’t look back.”
It sounds more like a warning than an advice and Jared isn’t sure what to make of it. “I’ve already done my share of walking,” he says. “I’d rather stick around this time. He seems worth it.”
Chris’s eyes narrow. “Just ‘cause you fucked him once doesn’t mean you have any dibs on a second round,” he says coldly. “So if that’s why you want to ‘stick around’ then I suggest you get lost, before I beat the living shit out of you.”
Jared can feel his face flush red. “I didn’t fuck him,” he grits out. “He... Look, it doesn’t matter. I just... It felt like we connected. Not then, not like that, but the other day. Friday. Before he freaked out on me. And I just... I thought maybe he could use a friend. Other than you. And that girl... Sophia? And whoever else who is already his friend, and I don’t know about, because I just met the guy, and we haven’t gotten to the actual talking part yet. And probably never will considering he doesn’t actually talk.”
Jesus, he’s rambling. Jared closes his eyes briefly before offering Chris a tight smile. “I’m just gonna leave now, before I hurt myself with all my stupidity.”
Chris is watching him, eyebrows raised. He seems more relaxed, even a little amused. Like whatever rage he’d been heading into had dissolved with Jared’s rant. “Come by on Thursday,” he says. “He likes Thursdays.”
“Uhm... okay. Why Thursdays?” Jared asks confused.
Chris smirks. “You’ll see.”
-------
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
Jensen lies still, staring up at the ceiling. What...?
He sucks in his breath and jerks up, wiping frantically at his face. His hands come away dry, but his skin still itches with the memory, and his mouth tastes foul with it. He gags, coughing and spitting, on his clothes and the blanket Chris must have thrown over him.
“Hey, hey. Calm down. Here.”
A Tic Tac is thrust into his mouth, and he chews it frantically, not breathing out, until the cool, fresh mint flavor has erased the taste of blood and brain from his tongue.
“It was just water, man. He was just shaking rain out of his hair. Stupid kid.”
Jensen stares bleary eyed at Chris. Who? And then he remembers. Shaggy hair and big hazel eyes, staring at him in concern. Strong arms pulling him tight against a broad chest. Jared.
Shit.
Jensen groans and falls back on the pillow, shielding his face with his arm. Jared. Jared came back, and he freaked out on him. Well, that’s just great. Not that he really thought anything could ever... Doesn’t mean he likes making a complete fool of himself in front of the guy.
“He’s the one you were drawing, right? Last week when...”
Chris’s voice trails off. They haven’t talked about it. Just pretended it didn’t happen. They’re pretty good at that. Pretending. Jensen has stayed home though even if he’s itching to go out. He tells himself it’s because he actually does care what Chris thinks and feels and not because the thought of blowing someone other than Jared makes him feel a little guilty. Because how stupid is that?
Chris clears his throat. “He seems like a nice kid,” he says.
Jensen shrugs. What does it matter? Not like it was ever going to go anywhere anyway. Especially not now.
“I’m sorry about, you know, what I said. I didn’t know he was... someone special. And I’m glad that you... If you are, you know...” Chris clears his throat again, awkward. “If it helps I think he likes you too.”
Jensen looks up sharply. Chris is smiling. There’s something in his eyes that feels new and foreign. Jensen isn’t sure, but he thinks it might be hope.