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vamphileTitle: Life: Served Two Ways 1/5
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3800 +/-
Summary Jared's a High School English Teacher. Jensen's a Part-Time Census Taker with Goals. They Like Each Other. A Lot
A/N: This fic is complete
First Course | Second Course | Third Course | Fourth Course | Fifth Course |
Thanks to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
passing_through seriououly 
because there aren’t words.
Graphics by:brianslave68
Life: Served Two Ways
First Course
Jensen walked away from the closed door, wondering why people were so secretive about their lives. He’d taken the job as an easy and most importantly temporary part time gig. Now though, he’d admit he was fascinated by what he’d learned in the past month as a census taker, but people seemed to think there was something nefarious he could do with the information. He made a note beside the address on his clipboard and knocked on the next door.
It was answered by a man who he could almost guarantee wasn’t going to talk to him. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth drawn in a tight suspicious line before Jensen even had a chance to say hello. Jensen flashed his best smile at him anyway and gave his short spiel. “Are you Jared Pada…?”
“Lecki. It’s not that hard to pronounce.”
Jensen nodded. In Chicago, Padalecki was probably more common than Ackles anyway.
“So, how many people reside in your household?”
Jared's eyes narrowd further until Jensen wondered how he could see. “Are in my household, or reside in my house? Two different questions. What do you want to know?”
As Jensen considered how to answer, his mouth moved but no sound came out. Jared was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, waiting, smirking when Jensen saw someone move out of the corner of his eye and then saw a ferocious hell beast lunge from behind Mr. Padalecki.
Jensen moved out of the way and then had to laugh when it was just a pizza delivery guy and Mr. Padalecki seemed to have the hell beast, whose name was apparently Sadie, under control. Mr. Padalecki was laughing as the pizza delivery boy left, everyone but Jensen unfazed by the encounter.
“Afraid of dogs?”
Jensen stared at the box, disbelieving. Domino’s? “No, little more afraid of a man who lives in Chicago and orders pizza from Domino’s.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Are you just here to leave another Sarpino’s flyer, or are they sending people to follow the competition now, just to harass their non-customers?”
“Neither. Wait, you have Sarpino’s number and you ordered…“ Jensen took a strong whiff near the box, “a pepperoni pizza from Domino’s?”
“It’s not technically a crime, even in Chicago. So, I’m gonna…” Jared gestured with the pizza and took a step back to shut he door.
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I’ll leave you alone.”
“Good.”
“If you promise to let me take you out for real food.”
“Real food? What’s this?” He gestured with the box.
“Cardboard, wrapped in cardboard. Just let me buy you dinner.”
“Like a date?”
“I’m hoping.”
“What makes you think…?”
“Or as a friend. Whatever, just… I can’t, in all good conscious, let you go through life eating inferior pizza.” Jensen looked up hopefully and Mr. Padalecki nodded once.
“Friday, you can pick me up at six and it’s not a date. It’s a way to get to eat my pizza before it gets cold.”
“Temperature variations won’t change the crappiness of your impeding meal.”
“So you do understand the English language.”
“Dude, you think I write the census questionnaire?”
“No, you’re clearly not that high up on the government food chain.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
Jared gave a half smile and shut the door. Jensen made note of the address and moved on to the next house.
Jared found himself thinking about the guy whose name he’d never gotten and who probably wouldn’t even show up. He’d be in the middle of explaining an exercise in formal/professional writing vs. informal/personal voice and his mind would sort of drift.
Eventually he handed out a worksheet and sat back in the corner of the room, pissed at himself, pissed at the fucking census taker/pizza snob, and yeah, a little pissed at the world, but that wasn’t new.
He dropped the worksheets and his lesson plan on a side table in the teachers’ lounge, poured himself a large cup of coffee, and sat back on the old battered couch, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“Rough night, Jared?”
Jared didn’t even open his eyes. “Lore, just…”
“You teach English and you can’t bother to pronounce all three syllables? That’s just lazy.”
Jared smiled, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Lo-ret-ta” he pronounced distinctly. “I’m tired. I’m teaching a dying language to kids who don’t write.”
He felt her sit down and let her take his coffee from him. “This really about text messaging and high school kids not wanting to learn? Because if you just figured that out, I’m a little scared for you.”
“No, it’s… stupid. I’m just tired.”
“You sure?”
“I promise if it’s more that than I’ll tell you.”
She rand a hand through his admittedly unkempt hair. “Liar.”
He nodded and dozed off for a half hour. Time he could have used to grade worksheets, or think more about the fact that he may have a date on Friday. He was probably best just napping.
On Friday, refusing to let himself be disappointed, Jared put on his least frayed jeans, a t-shirt that didn’t advertise something and propped his feet up on the coffee table, letting Harley drool on his knee while he scratched between Sadie’s ears, occasionally letting them switch out. At ten after six, he nodded to himself. He’d had no reason to believe this was going to happen. Jared changed the channel to a documentary on the beginning of written language and grabbed a pen when an interesting point was made. He was looking for paper when the doorbell rang.
He opened it. It was twenty three after six.
“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late, but…”
Jared held his hand up, grabbed an envelope from the pile of mail on the table by the door and scribbled the note to himself. He hit the record button on his DVR and turned off the TV, then he turned to Jensen.
Jensen was crouched down, petting Harley and Sadie simultaneously and laughing as they licked at his face. Most people found that gross. Harley’s tongue did that wide swipe thing that meant it crossed over some of Jensen's teeth as he laughed. He pushed them back while he fell on his ass.
Jared couldn’t help but be amused. “You have dogs?”
“No, I can’t right now, but… man, these guys are kinda friendly.”
“You’re about to get intimate with them. Careful.”
Jensen looked up and Jared called Sadie and Harley to him. They came, flanking Jared. “You’re like, the dog whisperer, only without the whispering.”
“They like me. I have an opposable thumb, food and a can opener. It’s a heady combination.”
“I’ll bet.”
“So, you came.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t? Do people actually bail on an opportunity to hang out with you, because, you’re kinda hot.”
“You don’t even know if I’m gay.”
“You don’t even know if I am.”
“So are you?”
Jensen shrugged. “Yeah, do straight men ask guys out on dates a lot? Because, that seems kinda gay, ya know?”
Jared fought off laughing. He was not letting this guy charm him. “Guys, gay and straight, do a lot of fucked up things. They’re people. People are fucked up.”
“Huh, yeah, I guess some of them are. You still haven’t answered the question.”
Jared took a step backwards, his arms crossed again. “What question?” He knew what question.
“Do you fuck guys?”
“Hmmm, interesting question. Is that the one and only definition of gay?”
“What are you, a fucking English teacher? It is one definition. You can be gay and never fuck anyone, you can be gay and fuck girls but just not be into it, you can be gay as in happy, although you’d need a time machine, and of course you can be bi, or transgendered, or what the fuck ever.”
“Yes, by the way, I am.”
“Gay?”
“An English teacher.”
“Arrrrggh!”
Jared laughed. “I’m an English teacher who sleeps with men.”
“Only sleeps, or is there sometimes sexual activity followed by sleep?”
“Sometimes I don’t even sleep at all, I just go all night.”
And Jensen finally lost his cool and gaped. Jared nodded, satisfied and grabbed a jacket off the hook. “We going?”
Jensen nodded mutely as Jared locked up his house.
They got through the formal introductions between the door and the car. Jensen drove, he’d chosen the restaurant carefully, most of his usual haunts having been deemed either too erudite for a guy who ordered Domino’s or too full of people he used to know, or sometimes both. He slid into the booth of an unassuming restaurant done in dark reds and rich browns.
Jared looked around and then back at Jensen skeptically, “you sure?”
“Trust me, best gnocchi this side of the Atlantic. Flavor profiles combined in ways you’d never have imagined and …”
“Oh god you’re one of those.”
“One of those?” Jensen raised an eyebrow.
“A foodie. One of those people who are never happy with any restaurant or dining experience because all you can think about is what would make it better. Well, this oughtta be fun.”
“Hey, first of all, I’m not a ‘foodie’”, he mimicked the air quotes. “I recognize and appreciate great food and secondly, we can go if you want. I don’t remember actually threatening you to get you to agree.” Jensen waited.
“No, it’s okay, I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I’m, everyone says I’m too negative. Maybe they’re right.” He shrugged with one shoulder and handed Jensen his menu. “Why don’t you order for me and I promise I’ll try it, okay?”
Jensen's eyes lit up and Jared hadn’t realized before how green they were, but in the low candle light and against the background of the brown leather booth, yeah, those were really fucking green eyes. His smile was kind of cool, too.
When the waiter came Jensen ordered, it took fifteen minutes for Jensen to finish and when he handed the waiter his menu he ducked his head. “Okay, so maybe I’m kind of a foodie.”
“Apparently you have no qualms about asking for what you want.”
Jensen took a deep breath. The guy, Jared, would probably stay through dinner even if he didn’t want anything else.
“I’m not afraid of much anymore.”
“Anymore?”
“I had… I had a great job, and a boyfriend, and an apartment outside of Oak Park. I’m gonna be a chef. I was working my way up the line, was gonna open my own restaurant.”
“Were.”
Jensen nodded. “I got, I was tired, like, epically tired. They thought I might have Mono or Epstein Barr.”
“But you didn’t?”
The appetizers came and Jensen picked up a piece of calamari with his fingers, running it through the creamy pesto sauce and tilting his head back to let it slide over his tongue.
“Nope, wasn’t Mono. Then I dropped like twenty pounds in a few months, so they tested for diabetes.” He took an oyster, spooned the spicy chutney onto it and slid it down his throat, swallowing with a smile. “I kept pushing back the doctors’ appointments because I didn’t think I could afford to miss work.”
Jensen dangled a piece of calamari in front of Jared. “You promised.”
Jared opened his mouth and Jensen smiled as he dropped it onto Jared's tongue and cutting off his own moan as his tongue curled around it, sucking it down and then licking his lower lip. Jared's eyes widened. “That’s really good.”
Jensen nodded, offered Jared a mussel. Jared took it, and Jensen bit back the small disappointment that Jared didn’t let him feed it to him.
“So you kept putting off your doctor’s appointments.”
Jensen nodded, sucking a shrimp out of its tail. “Yeah, can you imagine that, thinking work was more important that your health?”
Jared shook his head glumly. “No, I really can’t.”
Jensen popped an olive stuffed with garlic ricotta into his mouth, knowing he had to do this part kinda quick, like a band-aid.
“So I went, and it was Hodgkin’s and a year and a half later, here I am, in full remission, just kinda, without the job, or boyfriend or apartment, but I’m never putting off an experience, because you never really do know when there’s no tomorrow, you know?”
“Wait, wait, you had cancer last year?”
“Yeah.”
“But it just…went away? No.” Jared's forehead creased as he worked it out. “So radiation and stuff?”
“Yeah, chemo, radiation, lots of technical terms I won’t bore you with. But it’s over now. And I’m here, came out the other side and I asked you out because you’re hot, and like dogs, so probably not a serial killer, and I’m tired of playing the “is he or isn’t he” game. After last year, a punch in the nose won’t faze me.”
The soup came; it was creamy, nutty squash bisque. It needed more red pepper blended in and something to cut the sweet, but Jensen couldn’t focus too much on that, he was a little more worried about how Jared was going to react.
Jared looked at him and then turned his attention to his soup. It was good, seemed like it might be missing something. He added some salt and then looked up. Jensen's eyes were hooded and as much as he said he’d accept a punch in the nose, he was clearly hoping for something else.
“You’re okay now?”
“I can’t promise I’ll be okay forever.”
Jared smiled. “Hardly think the first date is the time to start worrying about forever. For all I know, you think Rex Grossman is a better player than Kyle Orton.”
“You’re gonna dis Orton on our first date? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m overly negative and pessimistic. Ask anyone.”
“But you have hope for the Bears this year.”
“I’m from Chicago; I have hope for the Bears every year.”
“Yeah.”
The soup was gone and a large platter was placed in the center of the table, covered in meats, potatoes and onions. Jared stared.
“Trust me; I think you’ll like this.”
“You know, you said we were going for pizza.”
“I say a lot of things. Got you to come with me though, right?” Jensen speared a potato wedge on his fork and offered it to Jared, whose eyes rolled back in his head. “O’m’go’”
Jensen smiled. “They cook the potatoes in vinegar and bacon grease with garlic and pepper. Try the beef, it’s been wrapped in bacon and marinated for hours until…”
“Shhh, eating.”
Jensen laughed and the pure joy of the sound caught Jared's attention. “You really love this.”
“I love watching people experience new things. Whether you ever want to see me again, you’re totally coming back here.”
Jared had to admit that was true.
“I’d like to see you again.” Jensen shrugged.
“You still don’t really know me.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that part of the fun? Getting to know people, what makes them laugh, why they’re so negative, why they’re stubborn about some things, but open to others.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“Who says I was talking about you?”
Jared shrugged and speared some of the pork. “Yeah, definitely coming back here again.” He chewed, swallowed and nodded. “Also, I’d like to see you again, too.”
Jensen laughed and Jared was really looking forward to finding more ways to get Jensen to do that.
As the table was being cleared a familiar face came around the corner. “Jensen!”
Jensen tried not to fidget, but he hated this part. “Hey Amy, didn’t know you worked here now.”
“Had to leave Collette’s.”
“Right, heard you and Brian broke up.”
“He was a douche.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“You did. So… you look good.”
“Thanks. Food’s still awesome by the way, nice to see you figured out how to cook.”
She moved to smack the back of his head and then pulled back abruptly. “So I’ve gotta…” she gestured towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, see ya.”
“Bye.”
Jensen re-arranged the table twice before Jared put a hand on his arm. “She an old friend?”
“Co-worker. She made the bisque. I can tell, always uses too much garlic and not enough contrasting flavors.”
“But you used to hang out.”
“That world kind of… disappeared. When I got sick, and they kept going…”
“And you picked this place because you thought no one you know works here.”
“Kinda, yeah. I didn’t… I hate how weird people are around me now, like I’m fragile.”
“You don’t seem fragile to me.”
“Let’s go, dessert is somewhere else.”
“There’s dessert? If we end up like, best friends, it’ll be because of that.”
“Naaah, you haven’t kissed me yet. Kissing me is what’s gonna seal the deal.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”
As they walked to the frozen custard stand Jared watched Jensen, and okay, maybe scrutinize is a better word, but he didn’t look sick. He certainly didn’t act sick, and he had more interest in life so far than Jared had.
As he walked back towards the car, licking the sweet/tart creamy lemon that really was a perfect finish to the meal, Jared realized that Jensen was right, about the fact that anyone could get sick at any time, and maybe if he liked him he just had to accept that. They leaned against the beat up old Honda hatchback, and Jared leaned over, licking along the base of the blackberry custard on Jensen's cone.
Jensen looked at him, smiled and moved to lick at Jared's cone, tilting his head at the last minute, tracing his tongue along the ridge of Jared's finger first.
Jared shivered and the image of Jensen, creamy white custard on his tongue as he curled it into his mouth was more than he could take.
“We need to get in the car. Now.”
“Cold?”
“No, not cold.”
Jensen smiled and ran his tongue along his lips. “Hot?”
“Now.”
Jensen dropped his cone right there on the street and drove them back to Jared's house, breaking one or two minor traffic laws along the way.
Jared kept his hand curled around Jensen's thigh the whole time.
When they finally got into the bedroom Jared kissing him all the way up the stairs, they stopped. “I gotta let the dogs out, just… wait for me?”
Jensen nodded.
Jared took Harley and Sadie out back. They usually went for a run in the evenings but this night had turned out differently than expected and he had them back in the house in fifteen minutes.
When he got back upstairs he found Jensen sitting on the bed.
“You waited.”
Jensen nodded as he took another step forward and pulled Jared's shirt over his head, his mouth working a trail of hot, wet kisses down Jared's skin.
Jared tugged at Jensen's shirt but Jensen ignored him, too busy tasting and touching, like he was learning something important, studying him.
He took Jensen's wrists and pulled him up. Kissing him again fiercely. Feeling his arousal through his jeans, tugging at his shirt and finding it more difficult to remove than it should be. “Jensen?”
“Hmmm?” Jensen was sucking a bruise into Jared's neck and it was really hard to concentrate.
“Jensen, c’mon, man, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, we’re, you know… I think its called foreplay.”
“So are we having sex with all your clothes on?”
“If you want to.”
Jared took a step back and Jensen made a small noise of displeasure. “C’mon, take off your shirt.”
Jared didn’t miss that Jensen's hands were shaking a little. He wondered if there was a surgical scar or something he wasn’t supposed to see. The shirt came off, Jensen shoved his hands in his pockets, an obvious effort not to cross them over his chest, and Jared appreciated that because damn, that was a nice chest. Not chiseled, not ripped, but strong shoulders, smooth musculature that tapered to a narrow waist. Jared sucked in his breath. When he looked up Jensen was pulling on his shirt quickly and moving towards the door.
Pure instinct had Jared blocking the door, and then he wanted to beat himself about the head and shoulders for being such an idiot. Jensen's eyes were wide. Jared moved away, but did stop him before he got to the front door. “Jensen, please stay, at least for a minute.”
“But…”
“What?”
“Nothing, yeah, I can stay, we can be friends.”
“Okay, good, I like to be friends with the people I’m fucking.”
“Wait, what?”
“What the hell just happened?”
“I forget sometimes, okay? I used to work a lot, I was constantly using my arms, standing for twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours, and now… my body’s not like that.”
“Your body’s fine. Trust me, I know good bodies, you have one.”
“I’m working on building back the muscle mass I’ve lost. They say I’m like 60-65% there.”
“Okay, but you’re not exactly a 98 lb weakling. Jen, you’re… hot.”
“With my clothes on.”
“And shirtless. I can’t give an opinion on the rest because you totally cock-blocked me, and yourself, by the way.”
“I kinda did, huh?”
“Yeah, so how bout we watch some TV, Sports-Center is on, and if you want, I can bring out a few beers and we can just accept that the sex thing is…”
“Never gonna happen.” Jensen was staring at the carpet.
“You’re kinda slow. You know that? The sex thing is gonna be, like, a main course, so tonight is one of those happy mouth things.”
Jensen smiled, “an amuse-bouche?”
“Yeah, one of them.”
“Do those involve kissing?”
“How else do mouths get happy?”
Jared kissed Jensen, his lips met by Jensen’s soft open ones, and they never did remember to turn on the TV, instead they made out, fully clothed, while each tried to figure out what the hell he was doing, getting even remotely involved with someone clearly before he was ready.
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So, I've had a rough couple of weeks and some external validation, (feedback) would be super. (I'm shallow, I know this.)
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3800 +/-
Summary Jared's a High School English Teacher. Jensen's a Part-Time Census Taker with Goals. They Like Each Other. A Lot
A/N: This fic is complete
Thanks to:
passing_through seriououly because there aren’t words.Graphics by:
brianslave68 Life: Served Two Ways
First Course
Jensen walked away from the closed door, wondering why people were so secretive about their lives. He’d taken the job as an easy and most importantly temporary part time gig. Now though, he’d admit he was fascinated by what he’d learned in the past month as a census taker, but people seemed to think there was something nefarious he could do with the information. He made a note beside the address on his clipboard and knocked on the next door.
It was answered by a man who he could almost guarantee wasn’t going to talk to him. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth drawn in a tight suspicious line before Jensen even had a chance to say hello. Jensen flashed his best smile at him anyway and gave his short spiel. “Are you Jared Pada…?”
“Lecki. It’s not that hard to pronounce.”
Jensen nodded. In Chicago, Padalecki was probably more common than Ackles anyway.
“So, how many people reside in your household?”
Jared's eyes narrowd further until Jensen wondered how he could see. “Are in my household, or reside in my house? Two different questions. What do you want to know?”
As Jensen considered how to answer, his mouth moved but no sound came out. Jared was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, waiting, smirking when Jensen saw someone move out of the corner of his eye and then saw a ferocious hell beast lunge from behind Mr. Padalecki.
Jensen moved out of the way and then had to laugh when it was just a pizza delivery guy and Mr. Padalecki seemed to have the hell beast, whose name was apparently Sadie, under control. Mr. Padalecki was laughing as the pizza delivery boy left, everyone but Jensen unfazed by the encounter.
“Afraid of dogs?”
Jensen stared at the box, disbelieving. Domino’s? “No, little more afraid of a man who lives in Chicago and orders pizza from Domino’s.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Are you just here to leave another Sarpino’s flyer, or are they sending people to follow the competition now, just to harass their non-customers?”
“Neither. Wait, you have Sarpino’s number and you ordered…“ Jensen took a strong whiff near the box, “a pepperoni pizza from Domino’s?”
“It’s not technically a crime, even in Chicago. So, I’m gonna…” Jared gestured with the pizza and took a step back to shut he door.
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I’ll leave you alone.”
“Good.”
“If you promise to let me take you out for real food.”
“Real food? What’s this?” He gestured with the box.
“Cardboard, wrapped in cardboard. Just let me buy you dinner.”
“Like a date?”
“I’m hoping.”
“What makes you think…?”
“Or as a friend. Whatever, just… I can’t, in all good conscious, let you go through life eating inferior pizza.” Jensen looked up hopefully and Mr. Padalecki nodded once.
“Friday, you can pick me up at six and it’s not a date. It’s a way to get to eat my pizza before it gets cold.”
“Temperature variations won’t change the crappiness of your impeding meal.”
“So you do understand the English language.”
“Dude, you think I write the census questionnaire?”
“No, you’re clearly not that high up on the government food chain.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
Jared gave a half smile and shut the door. Jensen made note of the address and moved on to the next house.
Jared found himself thinking about the guy whose name he’d never gotten and who probably wouldn’t even show up. He’d be in the middle of explaining an exercise in formal/professional writing vs. informal/personal voice and his mind would sort of drift.
Eventually he handed out a worksheet and sat back in the corner of the room, pissed at himself, pissed at the fucking census taker/pizza snob, and yeah, a little pissed at the world, but that wasn’t new.
He dropped the worksheets and his lesson plan on a side table in the teachers’ lounge, poured himself a large cup of coffee, and sat back on the old battered couch, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“Rough night, Jared?”
Jared didn’t even open his eyes. “Lore, just…”
“You teach English and you can’t bother to pronounce all three syllables? That’s just lazy.”
Jared smiled, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Lo-ret-ta” he pronounced distinctly. “I’m tired. I’m teaching a dying language to kids who don’t write.”
He felt her sit down and let her take his coffee from him. “This really about text messaging and high school kids not wanting to learn? Because if you just figured that out, I’m a little scared for you.”
“No, it’s… stupid. I’m just tired.”
“You sure?”
“I promise if it’s more that than I’ll tell you.”
She rand a hand through his admittedly unkempt hair. “Liar.”
He nodded and dozed off for a half hour. Time he could have used to grade worksheets, or think more about the fact that he may have a date on Friday. He was probably best just napping.
On Friday, refusing to let himself be disappointed, Jared put on his least frayed jeans, a t-shirt that didn’t advertise something and propped his feet up on the coffee table, letting Harley drool on his knee while he scratched between Sadie’s ears, occasionally letting them switch out. At ten after six, he nodded to himself. He’d had no reason to believe this was going to happen. Jared changed the channel to a documentary on the beginning of written language and grabbed a pen when an interesting point was made. He was looking for paper when the doorbell rang.
He opened it. It was twenty three after six.
“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late, but…”
Jared held his hand up, grabbed an envelope from the pile of mail on the table by the door and scribbled the note to himself. He hit the record button on his DVR and turned off the TV, then he turned to Jensen.
Jensen was crouched down, petting Harley and Sadie simultaneously and laughing as they licked at his face. Most people found that gross. Harley’s tongue did that wide swipe thing that meant it crossed over some of Jensen's teeth as he laughed. He pushed them back while he fell on his ass.
Jared couldn’t help but be amused. “You have dogs?”
“No, I can’t right now, but… man, these guys are kinda friendly.”
“You’re about to get intimate with them. Careful.”
Jensen looked up and Jared called Sadie and Harley to him. They came, flanking Jared. “You’re like, the dog whisperer, only without the whispering.”
“They like me. I have an opposable thumb, food and a can opener. It’s a heady combination.”
“I’ll bet.”
“So, you came.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t? Do people actually bail on an opportunity to hang out with you, because, you’re kinda hot.”
“You don’t even know if I’m gay.”
“You don’t even know if I am.”
“So are you?”
Jensen shrugged. “Yeah, do straight men ask guys out on dates a lot? Because, that seems kinda gay, ya know?”
Jared fought off laughing. He was not letting this guy charm him. “Guys, gay and straight, do a lot of fucked up things. They’re people. People are fucked up.”
“Huh, yeah, I guess some of them are. You still haven’t answered the question.”
Jared took a step backwards, his arms crossed again. “What question?” He knew what question.
“Do you fuck guys?”
“Hmmm, interesting question. Is that the one and only definition of gay?”
“What are you, a fucking English teacher? It is one definition. You can be gay and never fuck anyone, you can be gay and fuck girls but just not be into it, you can be gay as in happy, although you’d need a time machine, and of course you can be bi, or transgendered, or what the fuck ever.”
“Yes, by the way, I am.”
“Gay?”
“An English teacher.”
“Arrrrggh!”
Jared laughed. “I’m an English teacher who sleeps with men.”
“Only sleeps, or is there sometimes sexual activity followed by sleep?”
“Sometimes I don’t even sleep at all, I just go all night.”
And Jensen finally lost his cool and gaped. Jared nodded, satisfied and grabbed a jacket off the hook. “We going?”
Jensen nodded mutely as Jared locked up his house.
They got through the formal introductions between the door and the car. Jensen drove, he’d chosen the restaurant carefully, most of his usual haunts having been deemed either too erudite for a guy who ordered Domino’s or too full of people he used to know, or sometimes both. He slid into the booth of an unassuming restaurant done in dark reds and rich browns.
Jared looked around and then back at Jensen skeptically, “you sure?”
“Trust me, best gnocchi this side of the Atlantic. Flavor profiles combined in ways you’d never have imagined and …”
“Oh god you’re one of those.”
“One of those?” Jensen raised an eyebrow.
“A foodie. One of those people who are never happy with any restaurant or dining experience because all you can think about is what would make it better. Well, this oughtta be fun.”
“Hey, first of all, I’m not a ‘foodie’”, he mimicked the air quotes. “I recognize and appreciate great food and secondly, we can go if you want. I don’t remember actually threatening you to get you to agree.” Jensen waited.
“No, it’s okay, I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I’m, everyone says I’m too negative. Maybe they’re right.” He shrugged with one shoulder and handed Jensen his menu. “Why don’t you order for me and I promise I’ll try it, okay?”
Jensen's eyes lit up and Jared hadn’t realized before how green they were, but in the low candle light and against the background of the brown leather booth, yeah, those were really fucking green eyes. His smile was kind of cool, too.
When the waiter came Jensen ordered, it took fifteen minutes for Jensen to finish and when he handed the waiter his menu he ducked his head. “Okay, so maybe I’m kind of a foodie.”
“Apparently you have no qualms about asking for what you want.”
Jensen took a deep breath. The guy, Jared, would probably stay through dinner even if he didn’t want anything else.
“I’m not afraid of much anymore.”
“Anymore?”
“I had… I had a great job, and a boyfriend, and an apartment outside of Oak Park. I’m gonna be a chef. I was working my way up the line, was gonna open my own restaurant.”
“Were.”
Jensen nodded. “I got, I was tired, like, epically tired. They thought I might have Mono or Epstein Barr.”
“But you didn’t?”
The appetizers came and Jensen picked up a piece of calamari with his fingers, running it through the creamy pesto sauce and tilting his head back to let it slide over his tongue.
“Nope, wasn’t Mono. Then I dropped like twenty pounds in a few months, so they tested for diabetes.” He took an oyster, spooned the spicy chutney onto it and slid it down his throat, swallowing with a smile. “I kept pushing back the doctors’ appointments because I didn’t think I could afford to miss work.”
Jensen dangled a piece of calamari in front of Jared. “You promised.”
Jared opened his mouth and Jensen smiled as he dropped it onto Jared's tongue and cutting off his own moan as his tongue curled around it, sucking it down and then licking his lower lip. Jared's eyes widened. “That’s really good.”
Jensen nodded, offered Jared a mussel. Jared took it, and Jensen bit back the small disappointment that Jared didn’t let him feed it to him.
“So you kept putting off your doctor’s appointments.”
Jensen nodded, sucking a shrimp out of its tail. “Yeah, can you imagine that, thinking work was more important that your health?”
Jared shook his head glumly. “No, I really can’t.”
Jensen popped an olive stuffed with garlic ricotta into his mouth, knowing he had to do this part kinda quick, like a band-aid.
“So I went, and it was Hodgkin’s and a year and a half later, here I am, in full remission, just kinda, without the job, or boyfriend or apartment, but I’m never putting off an experience, because you never really do know when there’s no tomorrow, you know?”
“Wait, wait, you had cancer last year?”
“Yeah.”
“But it just…went away? No.” Jared's forehead creased as he worked it out. “So radiation and stuff?”
“Yeah, chemo, radiation, lots of technical terms I won’t bore you with. But it’s over now. And I’m here, came out the other side and I asked you out because you’re hot, and like dogs, so probably not a serial killer, and I’m tired of playing the “is he or isn’t he” game. After last year, a punch in the nose won’t faze me.”
The soup came; it was creamy, nutty squash bisque. It needed more red pepper blended in and something to cut the sweet, but Jensen couldn’t focus too much on that, he was a little more worried about how Jared was going to react.
Jared looked at him and then turned his attention to his soup. It was good, seemed like it might be missing something. He added some salt and then looked up. Jensen's eyes were hooded and as much as he said he’d accept a punch in the nose, he was clearly hoping for something else.
“You’re okay now?”
“I can’t promise I’ll be okay forever.”
Jared smiled. “Hardly think the first date is the time to start worrying about forever. For all I know, you think Rex Grossman is a better player than Kyle Orton.”
“You’re gonna dis Orton on our first date? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m overly negative and pessimistic. Ask anyone.”
“But you have hope for the Bears this year.”
“I’m from Chicago; I have hope for the Bears every year.”
“Yeah.”
The soup was gone and a large platter was placed in the center of the table, covered in meats, potatoes and onions. Jared stared.
“Trust me; I think you’ll like this.”
“You know, you said we were going for pizza.”
“I say a lot of things. Got you to come with me though, right?” Jensen speared a potato wedge on his fork and offered it to Jared, whose eyes rolled back in his head. “O’m’go’”
Jensen smiled. “They cook the potatoes in vinegar and bacon grease with garlic and pepper. Try the beef, it’s been wrapped in bacon and marinated for hours until…”
“Shhh, eating.”
Jensen laughed and the pure joy of the sound caught Jared's attention. “You really love this.”
“I love watching people experience new things. Whether you ever want to see me again, you’re totally coming back here.”
Jared had to admit that was true.
“I’d like to see you again.” Jensen shrugged.
“You still don’t really know me.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that part of the fun? Getting to know people, what makes them laugh, why they’re so negative, why they’re stubborn about some things, but open to others.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“Who says I was talking about you?”
Jared shrugged and speared some of the pork. “Yeah, definitely coming back here again.” He chewed, swallowed and nodded. “Also, I’d like to see you again, too.”
Jensen laughed and Jared was really looking forward to finding more ways to get Jensen to do that.
As the table was being cleared a familiar face came around the corner. “Jensen!”
Jensen tried not to fidget, but he hated this part. “Hey Amy, didn’t know you worked here now.”
“Had to leave Collette’s.”
“Right, heard you and Brian broke up.”
“He was a douche.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“You did. So… you look good.”
“Thanks. Food’s still awesome by the way, nice to see you figured out how to cook.”
She moved to smack the back of his head and then pulled back abruptly. “So I’ve gotta…” she gestured towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, see ya.”
“Bye.”
Jensen re-arranged the table twice before Jared put a hand on his arm. “She an old friend?”
“Co-worker. She made the bisque. I can tell, always uses too much garlic and not enough contrasting flavors.”
“But you used to hang out.”
“That world kind of… disappeared. When I got sick, and they kept going…”
“And you picked this place because you thought no one you know works here.”
“Kinda, yeah. I didn’t… I hate how weird people are around me now, like I’m fragile.”
“You don’t seem fragile to me.”
“Let’s go, dessert is somewhere else.”
“There’s dessert? If we end up like, best friends, it’ll be because of that.”
“Naaah, you haven’t kissed me yet. Kissing me is what’s gonna seal the deal.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”
As they walked to the frozen custard stand Jared watched Jensen, and okay, maybe scrutinize is a better word, but he didn’t look sick. He certainly didn’t act sick, and he had more interest in life so far than Jared had.
As he walked back towards the car, licking the sweet/tart creamy lemon that really was a perfect finish to the meal, Jared realized that Jensen was right, about the fact that anyone could get sick at any time, and maybe if he liked him he just had to accept that. They leaned against the beat up old Honda hatchback, and Jared leaned over, licking along the base of the blackberry custard on Jensen's cone.
Jensen looked at him, smiled and moved to lick at Jared's cone, tilting his head at the last minute, tracing his tongue along the ridge of Jared's finger first.
Jared shivered and the image of Jensen, creamy white custard on his tongue as he curled it into his mouth was more than he could take.
“We need to get in the car. Now.”
“Cold?”
“No, not cold.”
Jensen smiled and ran his tongue along his lips. “Hot?”
“Now.”
Jensen dropped his cone right there on the street and drove them back to Jared's house, breaking one or two minor traffic laws along the way.
Jared kept his hand curled around Jensen's thigh the whole time.
When they finally got into the bedroom Jared kissing him all the way up the stairs, they stopped. “I gotta let the dogs out, just… wait for me?”
Jensen nodded.
Jared took Harley and Sadie out back. They usually went for a run in the evenings but this night had turned out differently than expected and he had them back in the house in fifteen minutes.
When he got back upstairs he found Jensen sitting on the bed.
“You waited.”
Jensen nodded as he took another step forward and pulled Jared's shirt over his head, his mouth working a trail of hot, wet kisses down Jared's skin.
Jared tugged at Jensen's shirt but Jensen ignored him, too busy tasting and touching, like he was learning something important, studying him.
He took Jensen's wrists and pulled him up. Kissing him again fiercely. Feeling his arousal through his jeans, tugging at his shirt and finding it more difficult to remove than it should be. “Jensen?”
“Hmmm?” Jensen was sucking a bruise into Jared's neck and it was really hard to concentrate.
“Jensen, c’mon, man, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, we’re, you know… I think its called foreplay.”
“So are we having sex with all your clothes on?”
“If you want to.”
Jared took a step back and Jensen made a small noise of displeasure. “C’mon, take off your shirt.”
Jared didn’t miss that Jensen's hands were shaking a little. He wondered if there was a surgical scar or something he wasn’t supposed to see. The shirt came off, Jensen shoved his hands in his pockets, an obvious effort not to cross them over his chest, and Jared appreciated that because damn, that was a nice chest. Not chiseled, not ripped, but strong shoulders, smooth musculature that tapered to a narrow waist. Jared sucked in his breath. When he looked up Jensen was pulling on his shirt quickly and moving towards the door.
Pure instinct had Jared blocking the door, and then he wanted to beat himself about the head and shoulders for being such an idiot. Jensen's eyes were wide. Jared moved away, but did stop him before he got to the front door. “Jensen, please stay, at least for a minute.”
“But…”
“What?”
“Nothing, yeah, I can stay, we can be friends.”
“Okay, good, I like to be friends with the people I’m fucking.”
“Wait, what?”
“What the hell just happened?”
“I forget sometimes, okay? I used to work a lot, I was constantly using my arms, standing for twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours, and now… my body’s not like that.”
“Your body’s fine. Trust me, I know good bodies, you have one.”
“I’m working on building back the muscle mass I’ve lost. They say I’m like 60-65% there.”
“Okay, but you’re not exactly a 98 lb weakling. Jen, you’re… hot.”
“With my clothes on.”
“And shirtless. I can’t give an opinion on the rest because you totally cock-blocked me, and yourself, by the way.”
“I kinda did, huh?”
“Yeah, so how bout we watch some TV, Sports-Center is on, and if you want, I can bring out a few beers and we can just accept that the sex thing is…”
“Never gonna happen.” Jensen was staring at the carpet.
“You’re kinda slow. You know that? The sex thing is gonna be, like, a main course, so tonight is one of those happy mouth things.”
Jensen smiled, “an amuse-bouche?”
“Yeah, one of them.”
“Do those involve kissing?”
“How else do mouths get happy?”
Jared kissed Jensen, his lips met by Jensen’s soft open ones, and they never did remember to turn on the TV, instead they made out, fully clothed, while each tried to figure out what the hell he was doing, getting even remotely involved with someone clearly before he was ready.
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So, I've had a rough couple of weeks and some external validation, (feedback) would be super. (I'm shallow, I know this.)
