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14 February 2007 @ 12:30 pm
Wow. It's quiet 'round here. Have some rps.

Set after This is not a love song (this ain’t even a proper story) and Sixteen weeks of denial.

another kind of conclusion
Jensen/Jared, PG-13
WC: 1018

Jared kicked the ground outside Jensen's trailer and imagined he was kicking Jensen's ass, which would have been a lot more satisfying. He stared hard at the siding and couldn't shake the feeling of being a creepy old pervert spying on some young thing.

Hazy smoke filtered out of a propped open window. Jared had the decency to feel at least a little ashamed of himself - he'd driven the poor man to this. The last time he could remember Jensen smoking was when he had the fight with Chris three months ago; he'd nearly gone through a whole pack before he'd stood up on weak legs and asked if Jared felt like pizza.

He took three stuttering steps towards the trailer door, determined to tell Jensen where he could shove his neurosis and to stop fucking around and do some serious fucking with Jared, then stopped. What was it about Jensen that turned him all upside down and sideways, til he didn't know which was way up or down?

He palmed the cool metal of the door and thought really hard about knocking and how he just kind of wished Jensen would come to the door and his senses without Jared having to do nearly so much work.

Female laughter crackled like static, making Jared freeze. Low voices inside rumbled together, a woman and a man, quiet and intimate and Jared wished he hadn't eaten that last burger before stomping over here to beat some sense into Jensen. He could feel it rising in his throat and stubbornly clamped his lips shut.

If he was out here getting his heart trampled on, he wasn't about to toss his cookies like a fourteen year old girl who just found out her crush was going to the prom with someone else. Fuck that.

He let his head fall against the door, a muffled thump that echoed the cold feeling in his gut. Yes, Jared thought, I feel like that. Thump.

The door opened so suddenly that Jared had to scramble out of the way to keep from getting smacked in the face.


"Um," Jared said brilliantly and nearly smacked himself. "I'm not stalking you," he assured Jensen quickly, then realized that's probably what every stalker in America said. Maybe he should ask for Jensen's underwear so he could start a really creepy collection.

"I'm glad?" Jensen said, looking confused.

His stomach gave a dangerous lurch. "I'm going to-"

"Hey, hey," Jensen said, scrambling towards him. "C'mon." He grabbed Jared by the arm and steered him inside. "You sick, man?"

Somewhere in his bleary and panic-stricken mind, Jared noted that this was the first time they'd touched since that last night. There'd been small stuff, hands brushing as Jensen pressed a cup of coffee into his hands, things on set, but nothing like this near full body contact, the soft cotton of Jensen's faded blue shirt rubbing against his cheek.

"Don't you have company?" Jared said, trying not to sound like a jealous bitch and failing miserably.

Jensen grunted as he deposited Jared onto the couch. "No."

"I heard voices."

"Dude, how long were you out there?" Jensen asked, arms crossed and leaning against the opposite wall, as far away as he could get from him, Jared noted grimly.

"I was just - I don't - "

"I was watching TV."

Okay, Jared felt like an idiot, which was becoming an uncomfortably common feeling around Jensen. He settled into the ratty-ass couch that Jensen insisted on keeping despite the fact that Kim dubbed it "the ugliest damn thing he'd seen." He wondered how many people had sat on this exact same couch and looked at Jensen and not known what to do.

"Sorry," he muttered, not really sorry but it seemed appropriate.

And it kind of hit him then: he was so, so tired of appropriate with Jensen, because he knew about the sensitive patch of skin beneath his jaw and the way Jensen's stomach felt beneath his fingers. It was too late for appropriate - they passed that two fucks ago.

"Actually, I'm not sorry," Jared said and sat up gingerly, aware that he'd nearly puked earlier and not willing to humiliate himself that much quite yet.

"Okay," Jensen said and tore off a hangnail viciously between his teeth, a nervous habit he'd had as long as Jared had known him.

"You know why I'm not sorry?"

"Should I?"

"Because you do this every time, man. You suck me into whatever shit that's going on in your head." His arms were long enough to nearly reach the width of the trailer, but that didn't stop him from waving them around crazily.

Now Jensen was angry, green eyes narrowed and mouth set in a petulant line that made Jared want to kiss and hit him all in the same breathe. He advanced on Jared. "I never asked to get involved with you."

"You licked my neck."

Jensen flinched back like the words wounded him and Jared felt ashamed for half a second until he remembered that this was Jensen's fault in the first place because he couldn't stop wallowing in his own angst and dragging Jared along for the ride.

"You could have walked away," Jen said, his voice quiet and scratchy like he had to rip the words from his own throat.

Jared huffed, tired, angry, and beaten. "No I couldn't have."

"Why the hell not?"

He reach out, snagged Jensen's sleeve and used it to tug him forward, pull him close. Jensen felt stiff and unrelenting in his arms for just a minute, then he relaxed so gradually that it was like a zipper coming undone and Jared felt himself take a breath for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Maybe Jensen was thinking of the dusty Bible on his bedtable, his job, his ex girlfriend, the press - it didn't matter. "I couldn't have," Jared repeated softly, just for the two of them, their own special song.

It wasn't quite a love song, but it was getting there.

the end.

and_chocolate on October 11th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC)
*happy sigh* I love a nice, hopeful ending.