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fufaraw
Master Post | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 + Author Notes
* * *
Jared was surprised to find Chris in the gym at the department. He was, at the moment, beating the living daylights out of the speed bag. Jared watched in fascination as Kane sustained a rhythm over a period of minutes, finally slowing and stopping with a last one-two. He reached for a towel and mopped the sweat off his face.
"Impressive," Jared told him, and he was impressed. At the same time, he kind of wondered what Chris was doing in the department's gym.
"Jeff says it's okay if I use the bags and the showers once in a while." He was apparently a mind reader, as well as a chef and a...punching bag person. Jared didn't know if there was a name for that skill, but he was going to look it up, later, in case he ever needed to use the term.
Chris moved over to the heavy bag and started wailing on it. Jared stepped up to brace it against the force of Kane's punches, taking notes on Chris' form and follow-through. Christian obviously knew his way around a gym. He settled into what he was doing, and Jared just watched, until, minutes later, Chris was finished. He grabbed the towel and swabbed his face again before reaching for a water bottle.
"I hoped I'd see you," Chris said. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He grabbed up his sweatshirt, pulling it on and zipping it up. "You want to walk out with me?"
Jared nodded. "Okay, sure," he said. "Just let me grab my jacket."
Once outside on the sidewalk, Jared turned to hear what Chris had to say. The shorter man regarded him from under furrowed brows for a few seconds before he broached his subject.
"I know you're seeing Jensen," he began. And when Jared started to ask what business it was of Chris', he held up a hand. "I know it's not my business, and I know Jensen can take care of himself."
He paused for a minute before continuing. "But I still gotta say this. Jensen's--well, he's a good person. Don't hurt him."
Jared shook his head, trying to find the words to say he would never, but Chris added, "You hurt him and I'll find you."
"What makes you think I ever would?" Jared found his voice.
"Nothing," Chris admitted. "I'm just telling you. Don't."
Jared nodded, slowly. "Okay, then."
Chris nodded too. "As long as we understand each other. Good night, Jared." He walked away, toward a car Jared figured was his.
"Yeah," Jared said to his retreating back. "G'night."
* * *
The paramedic unit and a fire engine were already on scene when Jared arrived. He parked the SUV and went to find out what had happened. The driver of the truck, a young male, had already been moved onto a stretcher. The paramedics were fitting a collar on him, and he had a BP cuff on his arm. There was some blood, and the guy was twisting restlessly on the stretcher, fighting the straps they were just now fastening to keep him still and safe.
Jared walked around the truck, making notes of the damage, of the length of the skid marks, extrapolating angle and speed, before he approached the other driver. A woman in her forties, he guessed, and his estimate was confirmed by her driver license. The passenger door on her Toyota was crumpled, the windshield popped from the bent frame on that side, crumbled in that corner and cracked across its width, and the car had been pushed a distance of several feet by the truck running the stop sign at the intersection.
"Is he going to be all right?" The woman, Patricia McCormack, according to her license, seemed shaken, but her first question was about the injured young man.
"I'm sure they'll take good care of him, ma'am," Jared replied. He looked a little closer at her, and didn't like the greenish shade she was turning. "Are you all right, Ms. McCormack? Let's find you someplace to sit down, and get you looked at."
He caught the eye of a paramedic, and the two of them supported her to the back of the ambulance, and got her to sit down. Jared stood by while the medic checked her vitals and asked her a few questions.
"I think you're probably fine," the paramedic said, flicking a penlight into one eye and then the other. "Your reflexes are all good. You didn't lose consciousness at any point?" He made the last a question, just double checking, and Patricia shook her head.
"No, no I didn't," she insisted.
"Well, we can take you in to the emergency room for observation--"
"No," she shook her head. "I don't feel like anything's wrong. I'm a little shaken up, but otherwise, I feel fine."
"Well, you're probably going to be sore tomorrow," the medic told her. "If you have any symptoms, anything at all, see your doctor, or call the ER. Okay?" He met her eyes, and made her promise.
"Okay, I will. And thank you." She stood then, and moved, so they could load the stretcher with the other driver into the ambulance. In moments it growled away, lights flashing.
The woman looked over at her wrecked vehicle and then up at Jared. "What do I need to do about that? Do I call a tow truck?"
"Yes ma'am," he told her. "You need to have somebody move it off the road. Do you know where you want it taken for repair? Your insurance company's going to need to look it over and assess how much repairs will cost, and whether or not they're going to pay that amount. Or they might just total it and give you the present value toward another car."
She looked a little stunned, and not as if she'd followed his explanation very well, so he tried again. "You need to call your insurance company first. They'll tell you where to have the car towed--they might even arrange to have it towed for you."
She nodded, comprehending that much. She looked around blankly, and then said, "My phone's in my purse--in the car. I need--"
She started toward the vehicle, but Jared stopped her. "Let me, Ms. McCormack. You just wait here."
He started toward her car, when Danay's cruiser pulled up. She rolled down her window to speak to him. "You want me to finish up here, and you go on to the hospital to get the other driver's information?" she asked, after Jared had filled her in on the accident.
"Yeah, sure." He handed the other deputy Ms. McCormack's purse. "You might want to let her sit in the car till her ride gets here," he suggested. "She looks a little rocky."
Danay agreed, and went to speak to the woman, and Jared headed toward the hospital.
The ER was bright, as always, busy, and loud, with the PA system, and families in the waiting area talking, some crying, and rubber shoe soles and gurney wheels squeaking on the floors. He stopped at the nurse's station to find out where his accident patient was, and followed his directions to the bays in the back, where the curtains were pulled closed around one of the beds. He saw Aldis, treating a little girl with an injured arm, on his way back. They nodded in passing, and Aldis returned his attention to his patient.
The doctor with Terry, the driver of the truck, said that he appeared to be in good condition, but they had other tests to run. Jared asked specifically for a blood alcohol test, and pulled out the portable breathalyzer he'd brought in with him. Before any more time passed after the accident, he had Terry blow, and noted the numbers: they were well over the legal limit. Terry was coherent, answering questions, though his speech was a little slurred. Jared made notes. It seemed like a straightforward case of DUI to him. He just hoped Terry's insurance would cover the cost of repairs for Ms. McCormack's car, so her insurance payments didn't go up.
Jared was tapping information into his tablet when the machines that were monitoring Terry all went nuts at once, alarms sounding loudly. In seconds, ER staff were in the room, surrounding Terry's bed, yanking out the headboard and cranking the foot of the bed higher, calling out commands and responses as they worked on him.
Jared, leaning against the wall out of the way, froze. He couldn't catch his breath, and he wheezed, trying to get air into his lungs. A nurse shoved him further out of the way, and Jared stumbled out of the bay, losing his footing and sitting hard on the floor. He couldn't make his legs work, to get back on his feet, and he still wasn't able to breathe.
"Jared!" Aldis was at his side, pulling him up onto his feet, a strong arm guiding him away from the alarms and activity surrounding Raul--no. Not Raul. Surrounding...someone else.
Aldis put Jared in a chair out in the corridor and shoved his head down between his knees, crouching beside him with a hand on his back. "Breathe for me. Come on, Jared. Come on, breathe out, that's right. You can't breathe in if you don't let it out."
Jared listened to Aldis' voice and didn't try to remember how he'd gotten here. He'd remember in a minute, when he got his breath back. Now he just worked on breathing in, and out.
"You good, man?" Aldis's hand was on his shoulder, and he stood up from his crouch, pressing on Jared's shoulder to keep him from raising his head, yet. "You just stay like that for a minute or two, okay?"
Jared nodded. Aldis held a cup of water in front of his face, and Jared took it, sitting up a little to sip at it. Wow. He realized how he must look.
"Really," his voice was a little shaky, but he was feeling better all the time. "Don't try this at home. I'm a trained professional."
Aldis took the chair beside him, looking him over. "You want to tell me what just happened in there?" he asked.
"No," Jared answered. But Aldis deserved the truth. "I'm okay now. I just--" he took another sip of water and gathered his courage.
"I lost somebody, somebody very close to me, my husband. In an ER. There was nothing they could do. Everything just suddenly...took me back there."
Aldis nodded, considering. "I can see how that could happen. How are you feeling now?"
"Like I made an exhibition of myself for no reason," Jared confessed, somewhat sheepish.
"Man," Aldis protested his assessment. "PTSD isn't 'no reason'. You had plenty of reason. How long--"
"A year. One year, four months, and twenty-five days."
"That's rough," Aldis said. "I'm really sorry, man."
Jared nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." He took a deep breath, now that he could, and remembered his reason for being here. "How's Terry?"
"Touch and go," Aldis told him. "He may have a bleed in the brain. They're taking him for pictures, and depending on what they show, he may be headed to surgery."
"So I'm not going to get any more out of him tonight." When Aldis shook his head to confirm the negative, Jared stood. He only swayed for a second or two. "Then I think I'm gonna get out of here."
Aldis stood too, and shook the hand Jared offered. "Thanks, man. I thought I was dying, there for a few seconds."
"Has this happened before?"
Jared shook his head.
"Well, if it happens again, you might want to see somebody. There's medication for panic attacks, which is what this was."
Jared nodded. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Listen, thanks again."
"Sure thing," Aldis answered.
Jared left, and drove back to the department, carefully, focusing on his driving. His shift was over, but he still had an accident report to write.
* * *
Adrian and Jake were as good as their word. They showed up within a few minutes after the freight truck pulled up to the curb, wearing civvies, and with a borrowed hand truck. The driver offloaded Jared's crates and boxes with the truck's hydraulic lift, and Jake and Adrian dollied them into the house. Adrian even produced a short crowbar and a claw hammer and made short work of getting the crates open.
Jared stacked the books and DVDs in front of the living room bookcases, piled the clothes on his bed, and Jake put his desk together in the spare room while he and Adrian got the flatscreen, DVR and gaming system set up in the living room. The few framed pictures and posters he left leaning against the wall, to hang later.
When there wasn't anything left to do but hang and fold clothes and put them away, and organize the books, and the games and movies onto the shelves, they were quick to accept his offered, "Tell you what. Go with me to pick up the grill and the deck furniture and help set it up, and I'll buy pizza and beer."
Two hours later, the Vernon house had started to feel even more like home. Empty pizza boxes littered the new patio table, and the guys were all lounged out in the chairs, Jared and Adrian sipping their beers.
Jake was drinking soda. "I hate to cut this short," he drained the can and set it down. "But I'm on duty in thirty minutes."
Jared nodded, and stood, reaching to shake Jake's hand, and Adrian's. "Thank you, guys. This went a lot faster with the three of us than just me by myself."
"Glad to do it, man," Adrian grinned.
"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Let us know when the party is."
Jared laughed. "You bet."
"Come on." Jake shoved Adrian's shoulder. "I'll drop you off on my way in."
Jared announced the housewarming party for the next Saturday. He set the hours early enough that deputies on night shift could drop by early for a meal, and those on day shift could come after, and stay into the evening. He'd asked Beth to come early, and help advise him on where to hang his framed art, and her eyes sparkled at the notion. Aldis was on call that evening, but he was coming, and Chris was turning the cafe over to Peggy, his second in the kitchen for the evening.
"Do her good," he said. "She needs the confidence."
Steve had agreed to prepare the food. Something simple, Jared suggested. Finger food, but filling. He took Steve's list and stocked up on groceries.
Even with furniture inside and out, Jared wanted to make sure everybody had a place to sit, if they wanted, and asked to borrow folding chairs from the department.
"Don't need them very often," Jeff said. "When we do, we borrow them from the church. Talk to Pastor Martin," he suggested. And that's what Jared did, on Thursday.
"I can pick them up Friday night, or Saturday morning, whichever would work for you," he told the affable-looking man in the clerical collar. "And I'd bring them back Sunday afternoon. Earlier, if you need them Sunday morning, Pastor Martin."
"It's just Ben," the pastor said. "And Sunday afternoon will be fine. We have chairs in all the classrooms for Sunday School. The folding chairs are extra, for special events, when more people turn out."
Ben helped load the two dozen chairs in Jared's truck, and shook his hand when Jared tried to thank him again. "You're welcome to come by, Pastor--Ben. There'll be lots of food."
The pastor smiled, though he didn't look especially interested. "I may do that. Thank you."
He'd been granted all day Saturday off, so Jared figured it was only fair his Friday was spent behind a construction sign down on the highway outside of town, pointing a radar gun at vehicles passing by. Possibly the most boring duty ever, unless some numbskull blew by well over the limit, and then refused to stop when Jared pulled in behind the vehicle, hit the light bar and goosed the siren. No such luck that day, though. Everybody was boringly law-abiding, and he climbed out of the SUV when his shift was over, stretching and thanking Jeff that he hadn't spent it in a cramped sedan.
Jason had followed up on a report of a calf-killing, and had taken pictures of the carcass. Comparing it with photos from the other cases indicated this was just coyotes, or possibly dogs. "You get three or four strays running together, and that could become a problem," Jeff mused. "You and Caroline take a look out there, talk to some people in the area, and see if there's been any other stock killed or injured. Or if anybody's seen strange strays hanging around."
"Boss," Caroline objected. "Wouldn't that be animal control's area?"
Jeff nodded. He could see where his deputies would believe animal cases weren't their problem. "Ordinarily, yeah. But I think it's wise to take a look at anything that might shed some light on this case." He met her gaze directly, and after a second or two, she nodded.
"Yes, boss."
* * *
Steve and his pretty wife arrived at 1:30, bringing a deep fryer and a roll of knives and other arcane vessels and instruments. They started an assembly line for chopping and slicing, laying out ingredients in an order entirely logical to them, and stirring things on Jared's stove that smelled wonderful. Steve pulled the cover off the grill, exploring the controls and muttering and nodding to himself, before heading back into the kitchen. Jared watched the two of them for a while, his offer of help refused with preoccupied half smiles, before his doorbell rang to announce Beth. She was sparkling with eagerness to see what art he had to hang, and he fetched out the shiny new hammer he'd bought when he picked up the patio set, and the little plastic tubs of different-sized nails.
"Oh, yes," her ponytail bobbed as she nodded. "These should do fine. Now," she rubbed her hands together. "What have you got?"
When they had finished, the place really did feel more like home. The black and white Ansel Adams poster in its black frame balanced the flatscreen well. And the vertical art poster in mustard yellows and crimsons and lime-to-olive greens grounded the foyer in a way he never would have thought of, on his own. Not everything got hung, and he leaned the rest against the wall in the spare room. But what was on the walls looked amazing, to his eye. And Beth seemed pleased.
She went out to her red SUV and returned with a small hassock, about eighteen inches tall and round, covered in sewn together patches of leather, some tooled, some embroidered, in varied shades of chocolate, crimson, dark green, and tan. "I brought you a housewarming gift," she beamed, plopping it down next to the bookshelves. "And I get to be the first one to use it. Bring me a glass of wine, would you?"
Jared kissed her cheek in thanks, left her exploring the two bottom shelves of the bookcases, and went off to get her a glass of wine. Jake and Danay were the next to arrive, in uniform, since they were on duty that evening. Jared gave them a brief tour of the house, and saw they had plates in their hands before he went to answer the bell again. Even with the range hood going, the kitchen was heating up. Steve, when Jared asked if he would like the front door open to create a breeze, said "Please." So Jared propped open the door with a chunk of rock he'd found in the desert some years back. The house started to fill up with faces that were becoming more familiar to him.
Jason arrived with a pretty blonde wife, and Adrian had someone with him Jared had met before. "Christie, right?" Jared kissed her cheek. "You make the best sandwiches in town! What are you doing with this guy?" She blushed, and Adrian waggled his eyebrows.
They moved off and Jared was distracted when Sam and Jeff showed up together. "I have to run in a bit, hon," Sam told him. "The bar still opens at five. But we wanted to come see the place, and welcome you to town."
"I don't have anywhere else to be," Jeff rumbled. "I plan to stay and be a wet blanket on the proceedings." Sam swatted him across the midsection, and Jared grinned.
"Always welcome, sir."
Jeff cackled. "Nah, I just wanted to drop by with the missus, for neighborly's sake."
Jared wasn't sure he'd met everybody, but people did seem to be having a good time. He noticed Caroline, talking with Denalda Williams and her husband, and went over to say hi.
"Are you here alone?" he asked, not believing such a beautiful woman didn't have someone who appreciated her.
"My husband's in Afghanistan," she told him, her smile a little sad. "His tour's up in a couple of months." She grinned. "And then, we're going to renegotiate his staying in the army as a career."
Chris and Aldis arrived, and Jensen with them. Aldis waved and smiled, and made a beeline to Beth's hassock. Chris snagged Jared by the arm and pushed him toward the kitchen. "So, how's the food?" he demanded.
Before Jared could answer, Steve shot back,"The food's fine, asshole. Try it if you don't believe me." He shoved a bite of something into Chris' mouth, and he chewed, his eyebrows going up in appreciation. "Not bad, son," he scooted around the bar into the kitchen proper, the two men already discussing prep and presentation. Jensen just laughed and pulled Jared out onto the deck.
Dusk had fallen, and somebody had lit the glass jar candles Jared had set out on the table and the deck railing. People had discovered the folding chairs, and taken some of them out into the back yard, setting up in small groups, with a candle or two for illumination. Somewhere along the way, someone found Jared's music, and soft jazz played through the speakers.
"Nice party, Jared," Jensen joined him at the deck rail, standing close enough for their shoulders to brush. When Jared looked at him he was smiling back.
A few hours later, people began drifting away. The party was breaking up. Everybody seemed to have had a good time, thanked him for having them. Several of them stopped by the kitchen to thank Steve and Marisol for the food. The two of them were washing up and packing the tools and utensils they'd brought with them. The deep fryer was staying until Steve could take it back to the bar, but the rest of his stuff was packed and ready to go. Jared hugged him, kissed Marisol on the cheek, and thanked them both profusely.
Chris, Beth, and Aldis said their good nights, Jason and Adrian offered to stay and help clean up, but Jared sent them off with their girls. The last of the laughter died away, the last car engine faded off into the night, and Jared was alone. Almost. Jensen still stood nearby. "I'll bring in the chairs from the yard, you get the candles." He turned to do as he said.
Following after, Jared said, "You don't have to."
"I know. Shut up, let's finish this up."
The dishwasher was loaded and running, another load stacked and ready, when that one was done. Jared turned off all but a couple of the lamps on low, wound up the cords on the game controllers and stowed them, sorted the games into their cases and returned them to their shelf, and grabbed up the few paper plates and crumpled napkins still scattered around. Jensen was tugging the drawstring closed on the trash bag when Jared brought the last few things to stuff inside. "Just leave that there. I'll put it out for pickup on Monday."
Jared pulled a couple of leftover beers out of the fridge and held one out to Jensen. "One for the road?"
Jensen accepted, clinked their bottles together, and they settled in the living room, enjoying the quiet.
Jared was the first to speak. "So, um, stop me if this is none of my business, okay?" He waited till Jensen nodded, with a somewhat guarded expression.
"How does it work--with the four of you? And you, not being, well, sexual?"
Jensen nodded, sighed a little, kicked up his boots onto the coffee table. "Well, mainly, it's them. At first it was Aldis and Beth. They were together, but they had sort of an open relationship. Aldis met Chris, and they hit it off. It got intense pretty quickly, so for a while, Aldis was with both of them, but separately. Then he introduced Chris to Beth, and backed off for a while, let Beth and Chris have some time to get to know each other--and both of them fell for each other, hard."
"Chris was kind of messed up for a while, wanting to do the right thing and not come between them, trying to decide who he wanted to be with. But whichever one he chose, that meant giving up the other one. He didn't want to be responsible for breaking them up. And he wasn't sure either of them would want to be with him, more than their previous partner."
He stretched his arms out along the sofa back and canted his head back to look at Jared, leaning against the open door to the deck. "He was a mess, for a while."
"So, how did they sort it out?" Jared asked.
"The three of them got together, and talked about none of them having to give up anybody. That they were both in love with him, and if he loved both of them, and was willing to try, if he thought they could make it work, they wanted him to be part of their relationship."
"Wow."
Jensen grinned. "Yeah."
"So, how long have they been together?" Jared stirred, and asked, "Another beer?"
Jensen nodded. "About three years, now. Little less."
"And, apparently, it's working for them." Jared handed him a chilled longneck, wet with condensation.
"Yeah."
"So, where do you come into that equation?"
"Chris and I have been friends since we were kids, we're really tight. And Beth and Aldis--well, after the three of them became a thing, they just all sort of pulled me in, too."
He popped the cap and took a long, slow swallow. Jared watched his throat move, and willed his attentive dick not to respond. He sat on the opposite end of the couch. "But, you said, no sex."
"No, I don't have sex with them."
"Then...?"
Jensen half-turned to face him, one knee drawn up on the cushion, a slight frown between his brows as he sought the right words to explain. "We're friends. We love each other, and we hug and kiss, we tease each other, we even gang up sometimes for tickle fights, whenever somebody's willing to risk retribution. And, we just hang out."
"So you're close enough to them to like hugging and kissing?"
A brief smile lit his features. "Yes, Jared, I like kissing. I like being held, I like cuddling. And, yes, I feel close to them. We trust each other. It's-- I guess it's affection, even, really, it's love. I love each of them, and I enjoy cuddling, holding someone I care about, even kissing."
He took another swallow of beer, his eyelids masking his expression when he continued. "But when things progress to the sexual, I get up and leave."
Jared moved restlessly, almost spoke, but stilled to listen, instead.
"They understand that about me, and for us, it's normal. It's how we are. I'm welcome to stay, if I want to, they've made that clear." He shrugged, his thumbnail scraping at the bottle's paper label. "I just don't want to."
Jared nodded, sipping at his own beer. "Okay, I guess I get that. But, man," he started, and then failed to finish his question.
"What?"
"Don't, I mean. Don't you need to--"
Finding the subject awkward, and not sure of the words to use, Jared was blushing a delicate pink, and Jensen took pity on him. "You mean, don't I need to come sometimes?" Jared nodded, and Jensen replied, seriously. "Sure I do. It's a physical discomfort, a need, like...brushing your teeth, or eating when you're hungry. It's not a sexual thing, for me. I just take care of it when I need to."
Jared was a little appalled at the starkness of sex for Jensen, solitary and without even affection. He struggled not to show the sympathy he felt, but Jensen was astute, and observant. And he was probably expecting Jared's reaction.
"Jared, don't do that. Don't feel sorry for me. You know, everybody's different. This is just the way I happen to be different. I'm fine, you know, really. I'm not pining away 'cause I'm missing out on anything, because I'm not. My life is pretty good, and I like it fine. This is just who I am."
Jensen had opened up to him, had let Jared in, behind that well-maintained reserve. And here Jared was acting like anybody and everybody else would, like Jensen was broken, or something. Jensen was telling him he wasn't broken; he was just the way he was, just Jensen. Jared looked up to meet Jensen's gaze, and nodded his understanding.
"Thanks. You really didn't have to explain. You shouldn't have to explain. But I appreciate that you trust me enough to."
"Yeah," Jensen shrugged. "I know it's-- It's different. I'm different. I guess I appreciate you being considerate enough to ask."
Jared picked at the paper label on his bottle with a thumbnail. "So," he asked, watching Jensen indirectly, from under his eyelashes. "You like kissing?"
Jensen snorted, smirking. "You picked up on that part, huh? Yes, Jared, I like kissing."
"Okay," Jared met his gaze, straight on. "You maybe want to try that sometime? With me?"
Jensen's smile was a thing of beauty.
* * *
"Rancher up north of town called in. Somebody killed one of his steers, out in a field," Jeff frowned down at the notes from the call, before glancing up and meeting the eyes of his deputies. "From his description of the carcass, it looks like our guy, again."
There were a couple of heartfelt curses, but everybody stilled when Jeff went on. "Jim's already out there. I need--Caroline, you know what you're looking for, take the camera and get photos of the wounds."
"Yes, sir."
"Adrian, you and Jason go take a look at the scene, pick up on anything that might be of help, talk to the rancher," he checked his notes again. "Mr. Ardell."
"Yes, boss."
Jeff studied the middle distance, his gaze unfocused. "We need to catch this guy," he said, speaking for all of them. "Before he works up to humans."
* * *
Friday night at Sam's, and Christian, Steve, and the rest of the guys were rocking hard. They owned the crowd, and everybody was having a great time. Sam scooped up Jared's longneck and replaced it with a fresh one.
"Your boy's sounding good tonight," she told Jared. His eyebrows went up, and he stared at her, shook his head a little.
"He's not my boy," he said.
"You sure about that?" she grinned. "You might want to ask Jensen, you go making blanket statements like that."
"What?"
Her grin got broader.
"Sam, what do you know that I don't know? Tell me!"
"Talk to your boy, Jared. 'S all I'm saying."
He spent the rest of the set fidgeting on his stool, wanting to get Jensen to himself and, as Sam had advised, talk to him.
When the last notes died away and the guys stepped down off the stage, Jared sidled up to Jensen with an open beer. Jensen took it with a smile. He wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead with his shirt cuff and downed half the bottle in one draught.
Jared grinned. "You guys killed it tonight. The whole place was jumping."
Jensen laughed. It was a great sound. "Yeah, I guess everybody had fun."
Trying and failing to think of a segue, Jared just asked what he wanted to know. "Did you drive tonight?"
"Nah, I rode with Chris. Why?"
"You want a ride home?"
Jensen eyed him a moment, assessing the offer and what might be behind it. "Sure."
Jared nodded. "Okay. Let me know when you're ready to go."
Jensen turned to the other members of the band, and after a few comments about the night's performance, made his goodnights.
"Aw, Jenny," Adrian protested. "The night's young!"
"And it's not gonna get any older for you, if you call me Jenny again."
Adrian rolled his eyes, terrified. "Pffft. Go on home then, loser."
* * *
"Hey, I got beer," Jensen offered, hand on the door handle. "Or coffee, if you'd rather."
Jared nodded. "Yeah, coffee'd be great." He killed the motor and locked up, following Jensen up the stairs. On the terrace, most of the street lights were masked by the surrounding buildings, and the stars overhead were bright.
"This is nice," Jared smiled, gazing up.
Jensen nodded. "Yeah, I like it. Come on in."
Jensen pointed through the hall toward the living room when he turned in to the kitchen. Jared gravitated toward the wall of books and objects. A bank of windows above the 1970s era couch overlooked the street, but on the left, dark wood shelves floated on dark metal standards on the tan-painted walls. There were a couple of carved wood masks, a bronze figure of a horse, several boxes in wood, and metals, and painted papier-mache. Head tilted sideways, Jared was reading titles, and recognizing many he owned himself, when Jensen walked in with a couple of mugs. He bumped Jared's arm and handed off a mug.
"In here? Or you want to sit outside?"
"I'm still investigating your library," Jared grinned. "You mind?"
Jensen made an expansive gesture with his free hand. "Not at all. See anything you like?"
"Yeah," Jared sipped at his coffee. "Lots. I've got a lot of these myself."
They discussed authors, and finished their coffee. Jensen poured them each another cup, and their discussion grew broader, deeper, and more animated. Swallowing the last of his now-cold coffee, Jared glanced at his watch, surprised to see he'd been here for more than a couple of hours. "I should go."
Jensen blinked lazily at him from the sofa where he slumped deep into the cushions. "Not unless you really want to," he responded. "You on duty in the morning?"
Jared shook his head. "Off tomorrow."
Jensen shrugged his shoulders. "No rush, then." His gaze leveled at Jared's face. Jared was pretty sure Jensen was staring at his lips. He was aware of this because he realized he was staring at Jensen's lips.
"I want to kiss you." He actually said it out loud.
"Come here," Jensen said. "You're too far away."
"For what?"
"For me to kiss you back."
Jared was suddenly beside him on the sofa, and kissing was happening. Lots of kissing. Kissing Jensen was awesome, and apparently Jensen liked kissing Jared, too. They did that for a while, until Jared realized his body was ready for more than kissing and, not wishing to spoil Jensen's mood, he eased back, putting a little space between his erection and Jensen while he planted two, three, soft kisses on Jensen's eyes, and the tip of his nose. Jensen blinked, a slow sweep of sandy lashes, and smiled at him.
"You were right," Jared told him.
"About what?"
"You do like kissing."
Jensen nodded. "I like kissing a lot. I like kissing you."
Jared leaned in again, to leave a soft kiss between Jensen's eyebrows. "I like kissing you, too."
"But you need more." Jensen regarded him, his features sober, the smile gone.
"I didn't say that," Jared protested. "I'm trying to understand how you don't. I mean--" He didn't want to push, he didn't want to be rude, or to disregard Jensen's feelings. But he did want to understand. "Just--have you ever even...?"
Jensen pushed up off the sofa, stood. "I need beer," he said, and walked out. "Come on," he called from the kitchen, and when Jared went after him, he led them out onto the terrace, a longneck in each hand, and handed one off to Jared before sinking down into a chair.
"To answer your question, yes, Jared, I have had sex." Jensen took a drink, lips pursed around the bottle's neck, throat working as he swallowed. It was killing Jared to watch him, and not feel able to act on his impulse to reach out again, to kiss that throat, lick up the sweat-salty column of his neck, bite down on that moving Adam's apple. But he sat still where he was, and Jensen went on.
"I had a girlfriend in high school. You know, the usual thing, hugging and kissing, a little obligatory groping." A little grimace was briefly there, and gone. "I was a gentleman," he said, nodding gravely. "I had no problem being a gentleman. Right up to the point where the girl obviously expected more, and I realized...I didn't want to. I pushed myself a little, but--" he shook his head, gaze on the tips of his shoes. "I got her off, but my dick just wasn't in the game. When she promised me, 'next time', I knew. I knew it wasn't anything I wanted to do. I felt like a freak. Every guy I knew was getting pussy or talking about getting pussy, or hoping to get pussy, and there just wasn't anything I wanted less. I broke up with her. I tried to be kind to her, and cool about it and everything, but I still felt like a freak."
"You had no way of knowing," Jared said.
"No, not then," Jensen agreed. "I waited for days, expecting her to tell somebody, let everybody know what a loser I was. But she never did. Or at least if she did, it never got back to me. I was glad, but really, it didn't make me feel any less of a freak, that nobody knew." He tipped the bottle up and took another sip before he continued.
"There was a guy in my life drawing class in college. He was funny, and pretty smart, and I thought, well, the het thing didn't go so well, maybe it's just that I'm not into girls." He canted a look under his brows at Jared, who nodded, but said nothing.
Jensen continued. "So we started hanging out, and it turned out he actually was gay, and he was into me, so it looked like things were going to go well."
Jared had taken a chair, and was close enough to watch Jensen's expression in the starlight as he took another pull of his beer. "And did they?" Jared prompted. "Did things go well?"
Jensen managed to swallow his sip of beer before he sputtered. "Not exactly. Well, they did for a while. There was kissing, and cuddling in front of the TV, and then some groping under the clothes. He asked if I wanted to top, or bottom--I didn't know what to say. I told him he was my first, so he suggested he top, for our first time, so he could 'take care of me.'"
Jensen fell silent, his gaze blank, apparently tracking old memories. Jared gave him a minute before asking, "What happened?"
"Oh. Ah--I didn't like it." His features twisted, and Jared couldn't tell if it was his own discomfort he was recalling, or the disappointment of his college partner. "He tried to reassure me, and we went out a few more times, no pressure. Then he suggested we try again, with me on top." He sighed heavily, and flopped back in his chair, hips slid forward so his back was bowed and his head rolled on the top rail of the chair, legs splayed out in front of him.
"No good?" Jared prompted.
The grimace of unpleasantness was eloquent. "Nuh uh. I was terrible. It was awful. I couldn't get my clothes on and get out of there fast enough."
"Man, I'm sorry," Jared commiserated softly.
Jensen heaved a gusty sigh. "Yeah, he called a couple of times, tried to talk me into getting together again. I could tell it was kind of half-hearted, though. I gave him the whole, it's not you, it's me, and let's just be friends thing. And he only argued long enough to be decent before he said okay."
He took a long pull of his beer, wiping the back of his wrist across his lips when he was done. Jared's cock had softened, but it stirred again in his jeans, not ready to give up. He tried not to let his reaction show, and Jensen continued.
"It was weird, seeing each other in class, but we stayed friendly, and the semester was over in a couple of weeks, anyway. I never had a class with him again. Rarely saw him around on campus. But when I did see him, a couple of months later, he was with this athletic looking blond guy--both of them seemed pretty wrapped up in each other." He raised his longneck again, "I wished them well. Still do." He took another sip.
Jared let the silence settle a little before he set down his half-empty beer. "I should go," he said, and watched Jensen's face twist before he masked it with a bland, pleasant expression. Jared moved closer, reached out and put a hand on Jensen's knee. "But I want to come back."
He could read the surprise in Jensen's eyes, as he continued. "Is my invitation still good? Because yours is, for my house, anytime you want."
Jensen's eyes met his then, and he nodded, once. "Sure. Invitation's open, of course."
Jared reached across the space between them and placed a soft kiss on his lips, pressing a little till Jensen opened. Jared took him by the elbows and stood, raising Jensen with him, pulled him in and wrapped his arms around him, deepening the kiss. It was a moment before he felt Jensen's arms go around him, and then Jensen was kissing him back. Jared enjoyed it for a minute before he drew back, looking down at Jensen's swollen lips and soft-focused eyes. "Good. 'Cause there's lots more kissing that needs to be done." He kissed Jensen's nose. "Lots."
A slow grin spread over Jensen's face. "Yeah," he breathed.
* * *
