Mustang Island, 1/5, NC-17, J2
Feb. 23rd, 2010 12:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vamphileTitle: Mustang Island
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5200 +/-
Summary Jared is a Native Resident on Mustang Island. Jensen is Staying for an Extended Vacation. They like each other… a lot.
AN: This fic is complete in five parts, I will post a new section every Tuesday and Thursday.
Thanks to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
passing_through and anifsemaj for the beta work
Graphics by:raeschae
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five
MUSTANG ISLAND
CHAPTER ONE
Jensen was trying to relax. He started on the wraparound porch but the breeze wasn’t right and it kept fluttering the pages of his book. He moved out to the actual beach, settling his chair under an umbrella located near a craggy rock formation. The wind picked up and the water started to curl around his toes and then he heard a soft laugh.
Great. Some teenagers had found their way to what was supposed to be his private beach. There was another laugh, hmmm, also male. Jensen turned his head to see a tall man, no, boy, a tall boy with a muscled back pinning another slightly shorter kid to the rocks with his thigh. They were both in board shorts and shirtless, and Jensen couldn’t help watching. The water came in further and the laughs were then mixed with curses. The curses getting louder as the taller guy caught sight of Jensen.
He laughed, tugging his buddy out of the small nook and running across the beach at top speed.
Jensen sighed. His feet were wet. Those guys were hot. This relaxing thing was harder than it looked.
Jared grabbed an orange from the bowl on his mother’s kitchen table. “Mom! I saw the new tenant.”
“Tell me you didn’t bug him.”
“Who? Me?”
“Tell me you and some tourist’s kid weren’t out there together.”
Jared's eyes went wide with feigned innocence. “On the private beach? Heaven forbid.”
“Jared, Mr. Ackles paid three months in advance and signed a one year lease, at practically tourist rates. Don’t mess this up. He asked for peace and quiet. He doesn’t need you and your little trysts.”
“It wasn’t a tryst, it was just me and Jimmy, and he’s leaving on Sunday. Hardly even an interlude, let alone a tryst.”
His mother sighed. “Did you talk to Mr. Ackles?”
“No. He’s really staying for a year?”
“Yes.” His mother’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Jared sighed, flopping onto the couch. “Nothing, just… he’s hot, but a year, that could get messy.”
“Yes, it could. Leave the nice tenant alone. In six weeks schools across the country let out and you’ll have your pick of shallow hook up possibilities, so just hang on, okay baby?”
Jared laughed. “I guess. Does Mrs. Guarez still need help with her porch?”
“I think so. Mrs. Buenavista called and asked if you could take her to the mainland tomorrow at nine. Her daughter will meet her there but she has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Jared climbed into his truck and headed out to start on the porch.
Two days later Jensen was done trying to relax. He’d relaxed, on and off, for the last three days now and the novelty had worn off. He took a walk to the local shopping district to see if he could find something, anything, to do. He was going slightly buggy and had no idea how he was going to put up with a year of this.
He found the grocery store. Fresh produce galore but a minimum of gourmet items. The regular groceries consisted primarily of canned and boxed national brands. Jensen wondered if he should order a pasta maker, if his only other option was a box of spaghetti. They didn’t even seem to have angel hair or fettuccini.
He chose a few items and wasn’t sure what to do when the clerk smiled at him, commenting on his choices. He smiled back, wondering if perhaps she was ‘special needs’. She gave him the correct change though and he took the bag and headed off, strolling down the small boardwalk in front of the shops. He didn’t see any decent place to find coffee and biscotti. He couldn’t seem to locate a restaurant that was more than a seedy store front and the one store that sold clothes seemed to specialize in shirts with the town’s name on them or expressions such as “Life’s a Beach”. He headed back to the rental, feeling at more of a loss than when he started.
When he got back there was someone hammering on the roof.
“Can I help you?”
The man said nothing, flinging a shingle off. “Ow, fuck!”
“Oh my god! Are you okay?”
It was the boy from yesterday. He shook his head, getting his hair out of his eyes, only to have it flop back over his face almost immediately.
“I’m fine, you just skimmed my elbow. What are you doing?”
“Some of these shingles need replacing and I was trying to do it while you were gone. I’ll be done in an hour if you want to sit on the beach, or whatever, and wait.”
“Why are you on my roof?”
“I told you, the shingles got messed up in a storm over spring break. No major damage but I want to get it taken care of before anything becomes major.”
“This is your place?”
Jared nodded. “Well, my mom owns it. You met her, right?”
“Once, to sign the lease. At the realtor’s office.”
“Well, if I don’t do this, she’s gonna climb up onto the roof herself.”
Jensen tried to bite back a smirk. “Really?”
Jared grimaced. “Really. So, I’m just gonna…” he gestured with his hammer back to the roof.
Jensen nodded and went around back to the beach, imagining that the hammering would not be conducive to relaxing.
He peeled an orange, bit into a section and tasted the grit of sand because he was on a fucking beach and everything tastes like grit and sand on the beach. He sighed and closed his eyes.
The hammering had stopped and Jensen dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and found the kid kneeling on the porch, putting his tools back into the tool box. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m Jensen, by the way.”
“Jared.”
“Jared, listen, how do I get to the mainland?”
“There’s the ferry, it comes three times a day, or I’ve got a private service. Ten bucks will get you there, twenty gets you round trip. For twenty five I’ll even make sure I’m on time for the return.”
“You run the private service?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just… seems…”
“Like I’m too young to have my own deal? I’m twenty two.”
“Oh hey, yeah, I just meant, for a guy who fixes roofs and spends his afternoons, you know, in the rocks with his boyfriend…”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a tourist.”
“Oh, well, that’s different then.”
“I’ve gotta take someone over at nine tomorrow. You can sign on, come with. I’ll be picking her up at three. Think you can kill a day in Corpus Christi?”
Jensen nodded. “I’m hoping to god I can.”
Jared packed the toolbox into a plastic crate that was held in place in the back of his truck by bungee cords. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow at nine. Bye.”
“Wait, Jared!”
Jared stopped and leaned out the window, his tan arm dangling down the side of the car. “Yeah?”
“Where am I meeting you?”
“At the marina.” Jared rolled his eyes and Jensen wasn’t sure if he should feel dumb or not. How the hell would he know it was at the marina?
Jared loaded Mrs. Buenavista into the small craft. She sat and gripped the seat.
“You feeling dizzy?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Jared handed her a life jacket. “Please, for me. I worry.”
She frowned. “Bullshit, you worry too much.”
“My mom’ll kill me if I dump you in the water.”
She put the life jacket on.
Jensen found them. He looked aggravated, and crisp, in pale khaki linen pants and a white linen dress shirt.
“Hey, here.” Jared tossed him the dirtiest lifejacket he could find. “Regulations.”
Jensen looked at the boat, a small single engine four-seater that was a dinghy on most people’s yachts, but had served Jared well since high school.
“I’m not putting this on.”
“Then you might drown. If you go under, anything could get you. Jellyfish, sharks, anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“Hey, Mrs. Buenavista here doesn’t need to listen to that kind of talk.”
“And this thing won’t sink?”
“Hasn’t yet.”
“Fine.” Jensen took a step and Jared moved the boat, just a little, just enough to make Jensen almost lose his balance before he pulled it closer to the pier.
Jensen settled in, distaste clear on his face.
Jared held his hand out, clearing his throat, and Jensen handed him three crisp ten dollar bills. “That’s so you’ll be exceptionally punctual regarding pick-up time.”
“Sure, you’re the boss.” Jared started the engine and guided the boat out of the marina and across the bay.
Jensen navigated Corpus Christi with little difficulty and around noon stopped for coffee at a Starbucks with all the Wi-Fi connection he could use. He was idly surfing the web when it hit him, a sharp familiar chest pain. His skin covered in a cold sweat, his breathing short and shallow.
He dropped his head in his hands, silently talking himself through it, forcing his breathing deeper, ignoring the pain, and knowing from experience it would just end in bruises on his chest if he tried to rub the pain away. He finally sat back, staring at the screen again and trying to focus. A few people were looking at him funny, and the girl at the table next to him asked if he was alright. He nodded, packed his laptop back into his bag and left, heading to his next stop.
At three he was back at the marina. Jared was there and Jensen moved to settle onto the tiny little boat.
“No point, we have to wait for our other passenger.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Buenavista, surely you remember her?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she’s coming back to the island too.”
“But, can’t you get me back? She can wait here 'til you get back.”
“Dude, you want me to leave an old lady returning from a medical procedure waiting alone on the dock because you can’t wait to get home and hang up your new shirt? That’s cold.”
“I didn’t… I mean… you could have told… fine.” Jensen sat down and put his sunglasses on.
It was almost four when Jared moved towards the woman who was standing with a younger female. The moment Jared's hand made contact with Mrs. Buenavista’s elbow the other woman, apparently a nurses aid or hospital employee took off, waving briefly and disappearing quickly.
Jared slowly helped the older woman into the boat. “Maggie’s in a hurry, huh?”
“To get away from me. She’s busy, just like her father always was, always in a hurry, always frustrated with me.”
“Naaah, I’m sure she’s just off to buy you flowers and a cake.”
The lady laughed, and Jared's smile was broad and his dimples deep. “C’mon let’s get you back to mom’s, she wants to get your recipe for something or other.”
“Wants to check up on me like I’m an invalid.”
“Hardly. I think she wants to put you to work. You still into scrubbing floors?”
She slapped Jared's knee. “You’re terrible.”
“I’d be worse if you’d let me flirt but you’d slap for real then.”
“Because you’re teasing me. If you liked the girls, I’d maybe think about it.”
“Sorry, the girls lost out on that biological crapshoot.”
Jensen said nothing, observing carefully. Who the hell was this guy?
By five he was settled on surfing real estate listings for the area out of curiosity. A plan began to form.
Mrs. Buenavista was asleep on the couch. Jared pulled an afghan over her.
“Her daughter take off like a bat out of hell again?”
“Didn’t even make sure she got on the boat okay. I never liked Maggie.”
“So what’s the new tenant like?”
“Stuck up prig, same type who always rents that place. I told you that you made it too nice.”
“Well, I’ve gotta go check on the motel receipts.”
“I’m supposed to meet Jimmy so I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jared dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek and took off.
Later, he and Jimmy were rolling around in the sand, they’d need to shower before things went any further, but right now they were both drunk, the empty tequila bottle discarded somewhere by their feet, the tide coming in and foaming around their torsos as they lay parallel to it. Jimmy rubbing up against Jared's thigh pressed in between his knees. Jared pushing him down into the sand to get some friction of his own, their lips fused, tongues meeting and sliding.
Jensen hit a good stopping point on his spreadsheet and stepped outside, itching to light a cigarette and staring at the dark expanse of the ocean. Moonlight reflected off of something… he tilted his head and realized it was a tequila bottle. Following the line of the water his eyes locked again on a back he could now recognize instantly. Jared and his tourist buddy were using Jensen's beach again.
Jensen let out a long slow exhale. He didn’t really care too much about the kid using the beach; it wasn’t like Jensen had that option, possibly ever again. He sat back on the deck wishing he still smoked.
When the water was practically covering Jimmy, Jared pulled himself away. “C’mon, we can go back to your place.”
“My parents…”
“Shit, right…”
“Can’t we just use the house again?”
“New tenant moved in, let’s go to mine.”
Jimmy followed him the three blocks to the motel.
“You live here?”
“In the off season.” Jared didn’t feel like talking, didn’t want to hear the weird whiny pitch that Jimmy got when he was horny. He pushed him back on the bed, closed his eyes and pictured glass green eyes, broad shoulders, full lips.
In the morning Jimmy was still there, which was just like a fucking kid: not knowing how to get gone when they were done. He dragged him up and out. “I’ve gotta get to work. See ya.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Right. Jared leaned in and kissed him. “Goodbye.”
Jimmy tried to extend their goodbye scene but Jared really did have work to do, plus he was bored. Jimmy and his parents had been here for almost ten days. That was a long time with one guy. He left Jimmy standing by the rocks on the beach and watching him walk away.
He did feel bad, but he’d been clear from the get go that this was a vacation fling. It wasn’t his fault some eighteen year old kid got carried away.
Jensen cursed as he listened to the useless whir of the garbage disposal motor. The blades weren’t turning. What the fuck? He called his landlady, knowing Jared was going to show up and ignoring any pleasure he got from the idea.
He sat back down at the dining room table, focusing on the print-outs in front of him, trying not to let his head go back to the broken garbage disposal. It sat there, mocking him, something askew in his universe and he knew this is the kind of thing he was supposed to breathe through, the kind of thing he was supposed to be able to get over, but he couldn’t. He needed it to be fixed. Goddammit! He sighed and highlighted a few more properties to investigate.
There was a knock on his door, surprisingly soon after his call. It was Jared, toolbox in hand. “You broke something already?”
“I didn’t break it, it just…” Jensen was defensive 'til he saw the quirk of Jared's lips and realized he was being teased. He stepped aside, leaving ample room for Jared to come in, but Jared brushed against him like he had to squeeze by. Jensen sighed as his body responded. This was not good.
“Can you just…” he motioned towards the kitchen.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”
Jared opened the fuse box, turned off the power to the kitchen, which also turned off Jensen's printer. “Hey.”
“Sorry, just, wasn’t looking to electrocute myself today. What the hell are you printing anyway?”
“Just… some comps.”
“Whats?”
“Nothing.”
Jared shrugged. He was on his back in the kitchen, twisting and wriggling to fit his shoulders into the cabinet. He did something Jensen couldn’t see and then turned the power back on. When he flipped the switch the garbage disposal worked perfectly.
“Just had to reset it.”
Jared washed his hands and then glanced over at the papers spread across the dining room table. “Comps huh, you um, you’re… what the hell man, you’re buying real estate here?”
“And that’s a problem for you why?”
“Because you don’t live here.”
“Is that a requirement to buy property?”
“It is if you’re gonna just gobble up the rental property and leave the town empty and dead the rest of the time. People live here, you know. Real people.”
“I’m just looking for a project, for something to do. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Nothing.”
“You think I do nothing? Well, thanks so much.”
“No, I mean, there’s… surely there’s… business opportunities in Corpus Christi, you could you know, work there, and still live here.”
“Wear a suit, go to an office?”
“Yeah.”
“No thanks.”
“No thanks? So you’re just going to…” Jensen gestured towards Jared, who was wearing a loose tank and a pair of cargo shorts
“Dress comfortably and be happy? Yeah, I think I am.” Jared flicked his head knocking his hair out of his eyes. “Not everyone wants to be a douche, you know?”
“I’m not a douche, I just… I like a little more structure. I thought maybe if I bought a few properties… I’d have something to maintain, something to do.”
“But you don’t even know how to reset your own garbage disposal. How are you gonna maintain three or four rental properties?”
“I’d hire a property manager.”
“So you’d be managing the manager? I don’t get it.”
Jensen sighed, sitting back in front of his computer. “It wasn’t a well thought out idea. I just need… something.”
“Yeah, well, pick something that isn’t going to kill the town, okay?”
Jensen nodded, gathering up the papers and stacking them neatly before putting them in the trash.
Jared shook his head. “Why don’t you spend the day with me tomorrow? It’s my day off. I’ll teach you how to relax.”
“There’s a skill to it?”
“There is.”
“Oh.”
Jensen was pacing at eight thirty the next morning. He hadn’t figured that Jared would be up at six the way he was, and he guessed seven was pushing it, but come on the day was well and truly started and still no sign of the kid.
He poured himself a fourth cup of decaf and tried to be patient on the back deck. It wasn’t easy.
At a little after ten Jared showed up; cargo shorts, old sandals and a t-shirt that had seen better days. Jensen couldn’t help noticing that the camo pattern of his shorts had nothing to do with the rather bright blue of his shirt, but maybe some people relaxed by getting dressed in the dark.
He waited for an apology about the late hour, but none was forthcoming. Instead, Jared just smiled and helped himself to a glass of juice, sitting back on the deck chair and propping his feet up on the chair to his left. “So, I was thinking we’d walk the beach a little.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a nice beach. It’s a private beach. You’re paying a lot of money for the privilege of a nice private beach, and I’ll bet you haven’t ventured further than that umbrella over there.”
Jensen's eyes scanned the beach. It all looked the same to him. Sand and water. Why bother going over there to that sand and water? But he simply shrugged. “I haven’t, but…”
“But nothing. We’re gonna walk the beach.” Jared gulped down the rest of his juice. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
Jared smiled and Jensen followed him, working a little more than he’d like to admit to keep up with his long, loping strides.
Jared said something, but it was whipped away by the wind. Jensen took two quick jogging steps to catch up. “What?”
“I said, I don’t think there’s any place cooler than right here. Where the water meets the sand, where the whole of the ocean spreads out in front of you and the whole of the town is behind you. Feels safe, y’know?”
Jensen had no idea. “Safe?”
“Yeah, cradled I guess, between Mother Nature and…” Jared blushed. “My own mother, my own family, and the town I grew up in.”
“I read somewhere that if you’re not afraid of the ocean, you don’t understand it.”
“Oh, for sure. She’s nasty and mean and vindictive but she sure is pretty too. Look.” Jared put a hand on each of Jensen's shoulders and turned him towards the water. “See how far she reaches? See the angry swells breaking way out past the buoys? She’s gorgeous, and she knows it.”
“So you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“The people who believe the ocean is a woman, ready to reel men in and smash them against the rocks.”
“No, I’m one of those who have grown up next to her. I’ve seen her smash things to pieces; boats, dreams, and people. I respect her power, that’s all.”
“Whatever.”
“Dude, you do not want to buy property on an island if you don’t respect the water. That’s just asking for trouble.”
Jensen found him leaning back comfortably into Jared's touch and pulled away. “So what’s next?”
“Next?”
“In this islander’s guide to relaxing tour.”
“Well, we’re nowhere near next yet. First we walk a little further, find a rhythm with the sand and the water and the wind…”
“Yeah, I get it, okay- walking, let’s go.”
Jared watched Jensen walk a few steps ahead of him. His strides were sure and long and he didn’t seem to be tiring as quickly as Jared had assumed he would, but he wasn’t relaxing either. His shoulders were shrugged up around his ears and his hands were jammed into his pockets and he was wearing boat shoes and long pants… on the beach. Jared would never understand some people.
He took a long step forward, pulling even with Jensen and bumping their shoulders. “This might be easier if you take off your shoes. The extra pound of sand can’t be comfortable.”
Jensen shrugged and stopped walking long enough to kick off the shoes and hook the heels onto his fingers. “Better?”
“I don’t know, is it?”
Jensen took a few experimental steps. He smiled. “Yeah, I think it is.”
“So you don’t own sandals?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, we’ll fix that later today.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to walk the beach more than once to really understand it.”
“Really?”
Jared nodded seriously. “Really. And there are shells and bottle caps and glass, so barefoot is a bad idea.”
Jensen looked panicked and Jared shook his head. “Relax, you’ll be fine, we’re only going a couple of hundred feet.”
They walked together until they reached Sally’s.
“Ready for breakfast?”
Jensen looked at his watch. “At noon?”
“Yeah, c’mon, Sally makes the best omelets in the world.”
“And that’s been documented.”
“By everyone on the island.”
Jensen dusted the sand off his feet and shoved them back into his shoes. He made a movement to go inside, but Jared pulled him to the side and plunked himself down on one of the plastic deck chairs by a discolored, round resin table.
A woman came out; not old, late thirties, maybe early forties, but with the skin of a sun worshipper, leathery and tan. She smiled when she saw Jared. “The usual?”
“Yeah, and this is Jensen Ackles. He’s renting one fifteen.”
She let out a low appreciative whistle. “For the season?”
“For the year.” Jensen corrected.
“Are you kidding me? Well, welcome to town, neighbor.”
“Um, thanks.”
Jensen picked up the menu, his eye scanning the multitude of breakfast options, looking for something simple- a bagel maybe, or something lunch-like. Jared took the menu from his hands and slid it back between the salt shaker and the ketchup dispenser, “make it two usuals.”
Sally didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Jensen looked over at Jared. “You ordered for me.”
Jared shrugged. “You looked like you were gonna ask a bunch of questions about how things are prepared and then order toast.”
“What if I have food allergies?”
“Do you have food allergies?”
Jensen deflated a little. “No, but that’s not the point!”
“Well, just sit back and relax. That’s what you’re supposed to be doing today.”
“And an omelet is going to help that?”
“Could it hurt?”
“Maybe. I mean, is there too much salt? I’m supposed to watch my sodium intake.”
“What are you? Fifty? C’mon, you can’t even be thirty yet. Just eat the damn omelet.”
Jensen sat back, his arms crossed, his expression sour, and Jared laughed. “You’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, but it’s still true.”
Breakfast came. Jensen stared at his plate. The world’s largest omelet, more like five eggs than three, filled with sausage, onions, mushrooms, peppers, ham and cheese. Topped with more cheese and chopped fresh tomatoes. A huge serving of crispy, sliced and fried potatoes, three strips of bacon and two hand cut, thick slices of buttered sourdough toast.
Jensen pushed the plate away from himself just a little. It looked… okay, if he was honest with himself, it looked delicious, but then he flashed to his episode in Corpus Christi and the ones that were worse than that back in Dallas.
Jared watched Jensen's seeming distaste for the food and was about to make a snarky comment and get him to try a bite, but when he really looked, he saw the sudden pallor and the slight green tinge to Jensen's complexion.
Jensen's chest was heaving and he was pushing his chair away from the table, trying to get up.
Jared stood up too, taking his arm, only to be shaken off. Jensen sat back down, his elbows on his thighs, his head dropping between his hands. His back bowed over.
“He okay?” Sally’s voice broke through Jared's panic.
“I don’t know. Call the doc.”
“No, don’t. I’ll… just… gimme a minute, please.”
Jared watched as Jensen pressed his fist into his own chest, rubbing at the spot just above his heart as if he could massage it through is ribcage. His breathing became deeper, and Jensen's pale face turned back to its normal color. He pulled his chair up to the table and looked up at Sally. “Could I get a bottle of water please, sparkling if you have it? And some plain toast, no butter.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
He nodded to her and Jared sat down, leaning back in his chair and eyeing Jensen warily. “So what was that about?”
“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Can we just… not talk about it? After this I’ll go home and lie down. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow, to find a way to keep myself from dying of boredom without killing your town.” He looked up at Jared pleadingly, “really, can we drop it?”
Jared nodded. “We can drop it. For now.”
“Thank you.”
He ate his toast while Sally tried to whisk away the cholesterol-bomb-special from in front of him.
Jared just held out his hand, taking the plate from her. He ate both of them. Jensen was still shaky and unsure of his knees, so he was grateful for the extra time, what little there was of it. Jared ate like it was the first food he’d seen in months.
When they were done they headed back to the house, this time taking the boardwalk - easier to navigate, Jensen figured.
Jared kept up both ends of the conversation until they were at Jensen's door.
“So um, you need any help?”
“No, I’m just going to watch some TV. My Netflix should arrive today.”
“The mail doesn’t come here, you know.”
“What?”
“It comes to the post office, and you have to pick it up there. Do you want me to go get it for you?”
“They won’t give you my mail. It’s a federal offense.”
Jared smiled. “Wanna bet?”
Jensen shook his head. “It really won’t come here?”
“No, look, no mailbox.”
“Oh, huh. Well, I guess I’ll go later.”
Jared nodded and Jensen waved as he closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath once he was on the other side.
He felt exhausted. Completely wiped out.
He lay back on the sofa, his fingers twitching for his phone. Not the small non-QWRTY keyboard flip phone he’d had to switch to. His real phone, the one he’d had to destroy. He texted, slowly, and imprecisely.
NT WRKG. CMING HOM. C U SOON.
The phone rang less than a minute later. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m coming back to Dallas. I can’t relax, it was stupid to try.”
“Listen to me, of course it’s not working; you’re probably sifting through the local paper for business opportunities and haven’t been more than ten feet from your laptop since you got there; which I might add, is less than ten days ago.”
“Chris…” he knew his voice sounded whiny and he didn’t care.
“Listen to me, Jen. This isn’t some fuck around, do it or don’t kinda thing. This is real. The stakes are real and you are staying there. Danni and I will be there in six weeks, so just hang on for a little bit. Go swimming - ocean, pool, I don’t care, as long as it’s somewhere your phone and computer can’t follow.
“You can’t relax? Bullshit, you can do whatever you put your mind to. I’ve seen it. You can’t NOT relax. There’s too much at risk. You hearing me?”
Jensen nodded and after a few moments of silence remembered that Chris couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’m hearing you, but this kid...”
“Kid?”
“Boy, man, whatever.”
“Man, there’s a man there you like?”
“I didn’t say I like him. He’s… he’s like, twenty two.”
Chris snorted. “You’re twenty eight, not exactly a fossil.”
“Chris.”
“Stop whining, I’m in the middle of practice. You gonna be okay 'til I can call you without the rest of the band glaring at me and hating you?”
“I guess. Can I…”
“No.”
“I haven’t even asked yet.”
“You were gonna ask if you could come up and visit Dallas, right?”
Jensen chose silence over verifying Chris’s accuracy.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No, you can’t come here. I’ll be there soon enough. I gotta get back to rehearsal now.”
“Okay.”
“Jen, breathe through it.”
“I hate when you tell me that.”
Chris hung up.
Jensen closed his eyes. As the adrenaline rush subsided, his legs and arms felt heavy. He was asleep before long.
NEXT>>>
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Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5200 +/-
Summary Jared is a Native Resident on Mustang Island. Jensen is Staying for an Extended Vacation. They like each other… a lot.
AN: This fic is complete in five parts, I will post a new section every Tuesday and Thursday.
Thanks to:
passing_through and anifsemaj for the beta workGraphics by:
raeschae MUSTANG ISLAND
CHAPTER ONE
Jensen was trying to relax. He started on the wraparound porch but the breeze wasn’t right and it kept fluttering the pages of his book. He moved out to the actual beach, settling his chair under an umbrella located near a craggy rock formation. The wind picked up and the water started to curl around his toes and then he heard a soft laugh.
Great. Some teenagers had found their way to what was supposed to be his private beach. There was another laugh, hmmm, also male. Jensen turned his head to see a tall man, no, boy, a tall boy with a muscled back pinning another slightly shorter kid to the rocks with his thigh. They were both in board shorts and shirtless, and Jensen couldn’t help watching. The water came in further and the laughs were then mixed with curses. The curses getting louder as the taller guy caught sight of Jensen.
He laughed, tugging his buddy out of the small nook and running across the beach at top speed.
Jensen sighed. His feet were wet. Those guys were hot. This relaxing thing was harder than it looked.
Jared grabbed an orange from the bowl on his mother’s kitchen table. “Mom! I saw the new tenant.”
“Tell me you didn’t bug him.”
“Who? Me?”
“Tell me you and some tourist’s kid weren’t out there together.”
Jared's eyes went wide with feigned innocence. “On the private beach? Heaven forbid.”
“Jared, Mr. Ackles paid three months in advance and signed a one year lease, at practically tourist rates. Don’t mess this up. He asked for peace and quiet. He doesn’t need you and your little trysts.”
“It wasn’t a tryst, it was just me and Jimmy, and he’s leaving on Sunday. Hardly even an interlude, let alone a tryst.”
His mother sighed. “Did you talk to Mr. Ackles?”
“No. He’s really staying for a year?”
“Yes.” His mother’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Jared sighed, flopping onto the couch. “Nothing, just… he’s hot, but a year, that could get messy.”
“Yes, it could. Leave the nice tenant alone. In six weeks schools across the country let out and you’ll have your pick of shallow hook up possibilities, so just hang on, okay baby?”
Jared laughed. “I guess. Does Mrs. Guarez still need help with her porch?”
“I think so. Mrs. Buenavista called and asked if you could take her to the mainland tomorrow at nine. Her daughter will meet her there but she has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Jared climbed into his truck and headed out to start on the porch.
Two days later Jensen was done trying to relax. He’d relaxed, on and off, for the last three days now and the novelty had worn off. He took a walk to the local shopping district to see if he could find something, anything, to do. He was going slightly buggy and had no idea how he was going to put up with a year of this.
He found the grocery store. Fresh produce galore but a minimum of gourmet items. The regular groceries consisted primarily of canned and boxed national brands. Jensen wondered if he should order a pasta maker, if his only other option was a box of spaghetti. They didn’t even seem to have angel hair or fettuccini.
He chose a few items and wasn’t sure what to do when the clerk smiled at him, commenting on his choices. He smiled back, wondering if perhaps she was ‘special needs’. She gave him the correct change though and he took the bag and headed off, strolling down the small boardwalk in front of the shops. He didn’t see any decent place to find coffee and biscotti. He couldn’t seem to locate a restaurant that was more than a seedy store front and the one store that sold clothes seemed to specialize in shirts with the town’s name on them or expressions such as “Life’s a Beach”. He headed back to the rental, feeling at more of a loss than when he started.
When he got back there was someone hammering on the roof.
“Can I help you?”
The man said nothing, flinging a shingle off. “Ow, fuck!”
“Oh my god! Are you okay?”
It was the boy from yesterday. He shook his head, getting his hair out of his eyes, only to have it flop back over his face almost immediately.
“I’m fine, you just skimmed my elbow. What are you doing?”
“Some of these shingles need replacing and I was trying to do it while you were gone. I’ll be done in an hour if you want to sit on the beach, or whatever, and wait.”
“Why are you on my roof?”
“I told you, the shingles got messed up in a storm over spring break. No major damage but I want to get it taken care of before anything becomes major.”
“This is your place?”
Jared nodded. “Well, my mom owns it. You met her, right?”
“Once, to sign the lease. At the realtor’s office.”
“Well, if I don’t do this, she’s gonna climb up onto the roof herself.”
Jensen tried to bite back a smirk. “Really?”
Jared grimaced. “Really. So, I’m just gonna…” he gestured with his hammer back to the roof.
Jensen nodded and went around back to the beach, imagining that the hammering would not be conducive to relaxing.
He peeled an orange, bit into a section and tasted the grit of sand because he was on a fucking beach and everything tastes like grit and sand on the beach. He sighed and closed his eyes.
The hammering had stopped and Jensen dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and found the kid kneeling on the porch, putting his tools back into the tool box. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m Jensen, by the way.”
“Jared.”
“Jared, listen, how do I get to the mainland?”
“There’s the ferry, it comes three times a day, or I’ve got a private service. Ten bucks will get you there, twenty gets you round trip. For twenty five I’ll even make sure I’m on time for the return.”
“You run the private service?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just… seems…”
“Like I’m too young to have my own deal? I’m twenty two.”
“Oh hey, yeah, I just meant, for a guy who fixes roofs and spends his afternoons, you know, in the rocks with his boyfriend…”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a tourist.”
“Oh, well, that’s different then.”
“I’ve gotta take someone over at nine tomorrow. You can sign on, come with. I’ll be picking her up at three. Think you can kill a day in Corpus Christi?”
Jensen nodded. “I’m hoping to god I can.”
Jared packed the toolbox into a plastic crate that was held in place in the back of his truck by bungee cords. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow at nine. Bye.”
“Wait, Jared!”
Jared stopped and leaned out the window, his tan arm dangling down the side of the car. “Yeah?”
“Where am I meeting you?”
“At the marina.” Jared rolled his eyes and Jensen wasn’t sure if he should feel dumb or not. How the hell would he know it was at the marina?
Jared loaded Mrs. Buenavista into the small craft. She sat and gripped the seat.
“You feeling dizzy?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Jared handed her a life jacket. “Please, for me. I worry.”
She frowned. “Bullshit, you worry too much.”
“My mom’ll kill me if I dump you in the water.”
She put the life jacket on.
Jensen found them. He looked aggravated, and crisp, in pale khaki linen pants and a white linen dress shirt.
“Hey, here.” Jared tossed him the dirtiest lifejacket he could find. “Regulations.”
Jensen looked at the boat, a small single engine four-seater that was a dinghy on most people’s yachts, but had served Jared well since high school.
“I’m not putting this on.”
“Then you might drown. If you go under, anything could get you. Jellyfish, sharks, anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“Hey, Mrs. Buenavista here doesn’t need to listen to that kind of talk.”
“And this thing won’t sink?”
“Hasn’t yet.”
“Fine.” Jensen took a step and Jared moved the boat, just a little, just enough to make Jensen almost lose his balance before he pulled it closer to the pier.
Jensen settled in, distaste clear on his face.
Jared held his hand out, clearing his throat, and Jensen handed him three crisp ten dollar bills. “That’s so you’ll be exceptionally punctual regarding pick-up time.”
“Sure, you’re the boss.” Jared started the engine and guided the boat out of the marina and across the bay.
Jensen navigated Corpus Christi with little difficulty and around noon stopped for coffee at a Starbucks with all the Wi-Fi connection he could use. He was idly surfing the web when it hit him, a sharp familiar chest pain. His skin covered in a cold sweat, his breathing short and shallow.
He dropped his head in his hands, silently talking himself through it, forcing his breathing deeper, ignoring the pain, and knowing from experience it would just end in bruises on his chest if he tried to rub the pain away. He finally sat back, staring at the screen again and trying to focus. A few people were looking at him funny, and the girl at the table next to him asked if he was alright. He nodded, packed his laptop back into his bag and left, heading to his next stop.
At three he was back at the marina. Jared was there and Jensen moved to settle onto the tiny little boat.
“No point, we have to wait for our other passenger.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Buenavista, surely you remember her?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she’s coming back to the island too.”
“But, can’t you get me back? She can wait here 'til you get back.”
“Dude, you want me to leave an old lady returning from a medical procedure waiting alone on the dock because you can’t wait to get home and hang up your new shirt? That’s cold.”
“I didn’t… I mean… you could have told… fine.” Jensen sat down and put his sunglasses on.
It was almost four when Jared moved towards the woman who was standing with a younger female. The moment Jared's hand made contact with Mrs. Buenavista’s elbow the other woman, apparently a nurses aid or hospital employee took off, waving briefly and disappearing quickly.
Jared slowly helped the older woman into the boat. “Maggie’s in a hurry, huh?”
“To get away from me. She’s busy, just like her father always was, always in a hurry, always frustrated with me.”
“Naaah, I’m sure she’s just off to buy you flowers and a cake.”
The lady laughed, and Jared's smile was broad and his dimples deep. “C’mon let’s get you back to mom’s, she wants to get your recipe for something or other.”
“Wants to check up on me like I’m an invalid.”
“Hardly. I think she wants to put you to work. You still into scrubbing floors?”
She slapped Jared's knee. “You’re terrible.”
“I’d be worse if you’d let me flirt but you’d slap for real then.”
“Because you’re teasing me. If you liked the girls, I’d maybe think about it.”
“Sorry, the girls lost out on that biological crapshoot.”
Jensen said nothing, observing carefully. Who the hell was this guy?
By five he was settled on surfing real estate listings for the area out of curiosity. A plan began to form.
Mrs. Buenavista was asleep on the couch. Jared pulled an afghan over her.
“Her daughter take off like a bat out of hell again?”
“Didn’t even make sure she got on the boat okay. I never liked Maggie.”
“So what’s the new tenant like?”
“Stuck up prig, same type who always rents that place. I told you that you made it too nice.”
“Well, I’ve gotta go check on the motel receipts.”
“I’m supposed to meet Jimmy so I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jared dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek and took off.
Later, he and Jimmy were rolling around in the sand, they’d need to shower before things went any further, but right now they were both drunk, the empty tequila bottle discarded somewhere by their feet, the tide coming in and foaming around their torsos as they lay parallel to it. Jimmy rubbing up against Jared's thigh pressed in between his knees. Jared pushing him down into the sand to get some friction of his own, their lips fused, tongues meeting and sliding.
Jensen hit a good stopping point on his spreadsheet and stepped outside, itching to light a cigarette and staring at the dark expanse of the ocean. Moonlight reflected off of something… he tilted his head and realized it was a tequila bottle. Following the line of the water his eyes locked again on a back he could now recognize instantly. Jared and his tourist buddy were using Jensen's beach again.
Jensen let out a long slow exhale. He didn’t really care too much about the kid using the beach; it wasn’t like Jensen had that option, possibly ever again. He sat back on the deck wishing he still smoked.
When the water was practically covering Jimmy, Jared pulled himself away. “C’mon, we can go back to your place.”
“My parents…”
“Shit, right…”
“Can’t we just use the house again?”
“New tenant moved in, let’s go to mine.”
Jimmy followed him the three blocks to the motel.
“You live here?”
“In the off season.” Jared didn’t feel like talking, didn’t want to hear the weird whiny pitch that Jimmy got when he was horny. He pushed him back on the bed, closed his eyes and pictured glass green eyes, broad shoulders, full lips.
In the morning Jimmy was still there, which was just like a fucking kid: not knowing how to get gone when they were done. He dragged him up and out. “I’ve gotta get to work. See ya.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Right. Jared leaned in and kissed him. “Goodbye.”
Jimmy tried to extend their goodbye scene but Jared really did have work to do, plus he was bored. Jimmy and his parents had been here for almost ten days. That was a long time with one guy. He left Jimmy standing by the rocks on the beach and watching him walk away.
He did feel bad, but he’d been clear from the get go that this was a vacation fling. It wasn’t his fault some eighteen year old kid got carried away.
Jensen cursed as he listened to the useless whir of the garbage disposal motor. The blades weren’t turning. What the fuck? He called his landlady, knowing Jared was going to show up and ignoring any pleasure he got from the idea.
He sat back down at the dining room table, focusing on the print-outs in front of him, trying not to let his head go back to the broken garbage disposal. It sat there, mocking him, something askew in his universe and he knew this is the kind of thing he was supposed to breathe through, the kind of thing he was supposed to be able to get over, but he couldn’t. He needed it to be fixed. Goddammit! He sighed and highlighted a few more properties to investigate.
There was a knock on his door, surprisingly soon after his call. It was Jared, toolbox in hand. “You broke something already?”
“I didn’t break it, it just…” Jensen was defensive 'til he saw the quirk of Jared's lips and realized he was being teased. He stepped aside, leaving ample room for Jared to come in, but Jared brushed against him like he had to squeeze by. Jensen sighed as his body responded. This was not good.
“Can you just…” he motioned towards the kitchen.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”
Jared opened the fuse box, turned off the power to the kitchen, which also turned off Jensen's printer. “Hey.”
“Sorry, just, wasn’t looking to electrocute myself today. What the hell are you printing anyway?”
“Just… some comps.”
“Whats?”
“Nothing.”
Jared shrugged. He was on his back in the kitchen, twisting and wriggling to fit his shoulders into the cabinet. He did something Jensen couldn’t see and then turned the power back on. When he flipped the switch the garbage disposal worked perfectly.
“Just had to reset it.”
Jared washed his hands and then glanced over at the papers spread across the dining room table. “Comps huh, you um, you’re… what the hell man, you’re buying real estate here?”
“And that’s a problem for you why?”
“Because you don’t live here.”
“Is that a requirement to buy property?”
“It is if you’re gonna just gobble up the rental property and leave the town empty and dead the rest of the time. People live here, you know. Real people.”
“I’m just looking for a project, for something to do. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Nothing.”
“You think I do nothing? Well, thanks so much.”
“No, I mean, there’s… surely there’s… business opportunities in Corpus Christi, you could you know, work there, and still live here.”
“Wear a suit, go to an office?”
“Yeah.”
“No thanks.”
“No thanks? So you’re just going to…” Jensen gestured towards Jared, who was wearing a loose tank and a pair of cargo shorts
“Dress comfortably and be happy? Yeah, I think I am.” Jared flicked his head knocking his hair out of his eyes. “Not everyone wants to be a douche, you know?”
“I’m not a douche, I just… I like a little more structure. I thought maybe if I bought a few properties… I’d have something to maintain, something to do.”
“But you don’t even know how to reset your own garbage disposal. How are you gonna maintain three or four rental properties?”
“I’d hire a property manager.”
“So you’d be managing the manager? I don’t get it.”
Jensen sighed, sitting back in front of his computer. “It wasn’t a well thought out idea. I just need… something.”
“Yeah, well, pick something that isn’t going to kill the town, okay?”
Jensen nodded, gathering up the papers and stacking them neatly before putting them in the trash.
Jared shook his head. “Why don’t you spend the day with me tomorrow? It’s my day off. I’ll teach you how to relax.”
“There’s a skill to it?”
“There is.”
“Oh.”
Jensen was pacing at eight thirty the next morning. He hadn’t figured that Jared would be up at six the way he was, and he guessed seven was pushing it, but come on the day was well and truly started and still no sign of the kid.
He poured himself a fourth cup of decaf and tried to be patient on the back deck. It wasn’t easy.
At a little after ten Jared showed up; cargo shorts, old sandals and a t-shirt that had seen better days. Jensen couldn’t help noticing that the camo pattern of his shorts had nothing to do with the rather bright blue of his shirt, but maybe some people relaxed by getting dressed in the dark.
He waited for an apology about the late hour, but none was forthcoming. Instead, Jared just smiled and helped himself to a glass of juice, sitting back on the deck chair and propping his feet up on the chair to his left. “So, I was thinking we’d walk the beach a little.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a nice beach. It’s a private beach. You’re paying a lot of money for the privilege of a nice private beach, and I’ll bet you haven’t ventured further than that umbrella over there.”
Jensen's eyes scanned the beach. It all looked the same to him. Sand and water. Why bother going over there to that sand and water? But he simply shrugged. “I haven’t, but…”
“But nothing. We’re gonna walk the beach.” Jared gulped down the rest of his juice. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
Jared smiled and Jensen followed him, working a little more than he’d like to admit to keep up with his long, loping strides.
Jared said something, but it was whipped away by the wind. Jensen took two quick jogging steps to catch up. “What?”
“I said, I don’t think there’s any place cooler than right here. Where the water meets the sand, where the whole of the ocean spreads out in front of you and the whole of the town is behind you. Feels safe, y’know?”
Jensen had no idea. “Safe?”
“Yeah, cradled I guess, between Mother Nature and…” Jared blushed. “My own mother, my own family, and the town I grew up in.”
“I read somewhere that if you’re not afraid of the ocean, you don’t understand it.”
“Oh, for sure. She’s nasty and mean and vindictive but she sure is pretty too. Look.” Jared put a hand on each of Jensen's shoulders and turned him towards the water. “See how far she reaches? See the angry swells breaking way out past the buoys? She’s gorgeous, and she knows it.”
“So you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“The people who believe the ocean is a woman, ready to reel men in and smash them against the rocks.”
“No, I’m one of those who have grown up next to her. I’ve seen her smash things to pieces; boats, dreams, and people. I respect her power, that’s all.”
“Whatever.”
“Dude, you do not want to buy property on an island if you don’t respect the water. That’s just asking for trouble.”
Jensen found him leaning back comfortably into Jared's touch and pulled away. “So what’s next?”
“Next?”
“In this islander’s guide to relaxing tour.”
“Well, we’re nowhere near next yet. First we walk a little further, find a rhythm with the sand and the water and the wind…”
“Yeah, I get it, okay- walking, let’s go.”
Jared watched Jensen walk a few steps ahead of him. His strides were sure and long and he didn’t seem to be tiring as quickly as Jared had assumed he would, but he wasn’t relaxing either. His shoulders were shrugged up around his ears and his hands were jammed into his pockets and he was wearing boat shoes and long pants… on the beach. Jared would never understand some people.
He took a long step forward, pulling even with Jensen and bumping their shoulders. “This might be easier if you take off your shoes. The extra pound of sand can’t be comfortable.”
Jensen shrugged and stopped walking long enough to kick off the shoes and hook the heels onto his fingers. “Better?”
“I don’t know, is it?”
Jensen took a few experimental steps. He smiled. “Yeah, I think it is.”
“So you don’t own sandals?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, we’ll fix that later today.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to walk the beach more than once to really understand it.”
“Really?”
Jared nodded seriously. “Really. And there are shells and bottle caps and glass, so barefoot is a bad idea.”
Jensen looked panicked and Jared shook his head. “Relax, you’ll be fine, we’re only going a couple of hundred feet.”
They walked together until they reached Sally’s.
“Ready for breakfast?”
Jensen looked at his watch. “At noon?”
“Yeah, c’mon, Sally makes the best omelets in the world.”
“And that’s been documented.”
“By everyone on the island.”
Jensen dusted the sand off his feet and shoved them back into his shoes. He made a movement to go inside, but Jared pulled him to the side and plunked himself down on one of the plastic deck chairs by a discolored, round resin table.
A woman came out; not old, late thirties, maybe early forties, but with the skin of a sun worshipper, leathery and tan. She smiled when she saw Jared. “The usual?”
“Yeah, and this is Jensen Ackles. He’s renting one fifteen.”
She let out a low appreciative whistle. “For the season?”
“For the year.” Jensen corrected.
“Are you kidding me? Well, welcome to town, neighbor.”
“Um, thanks.”
Jensen picked up the menu, his eye scanning the multitude of breakfast options, looking for something simple- a bagel maybe, or something lunch-like. Jared took the menu from his hands and slid it back between the salt shaker and the ketchup dispenser, “make it two usuals.”
Sally didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Jensen looked over at Jared. “You ordered for me.”
Jared shrugged. “You looked like you were gonna ask a bunch of questions about how things are prepared and then order toast.”
“What if I have food allergies?”
“Do you have food allergies?”
Jensen deflated a little. “No, but that’s not the point!”
“Well, just sit back and relax. That’s what you’re supposed to be doing today.”
“And an omelet is going to help that?”
“Could it hurt?”
“Maybe. I mean, is there too much salt? I’m supposed to watch my sodium intake.”
“What are you? Fifty? C’mon, you can’t even be thirty yet. Just eat the damn omelet.”
Jensen sat back, his arms crossed, his expression sour, and Jared laughed. “You’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, but it’s still true.”
Breakfast came. Jensen stared at his plate. The world’s largest omelet, more like five eggs than three, filled with sausage, onions, mushrooms, peppers, ham and cheese. Topped with more cheese and chopped fresh tomatoes. A huge serving of crispy, sliced and fried potatoes, three strips of bacon and two hand cut, thick slices of buttered sourdough toast.
Jensen pushed the plate away from himself just a little. It looked… okay, if he was honest with himself, it looked delicious, but then he flashed to his episode in Corpus Christi and the ones that were worse than that back in Dallas.
Jared watched Jensen's seeming distaste for the food and was about to make a snarky comment and get him to try a bite, but when he really looked, he saw the sudden pallor and the slight green tinge to Jensen's complexion.
Jensen's chest was heaving and he was pushing his chair away from the table, trying to get up.
Jared stood up too, taking his arm, only to be shaken off. Jensen sat back down, his elbows on his thighs, his head dropping between his hands. His back bowed over.
“He okay?” Sally’s voice broke through Jared's panic.
“I don’t know. Call the doc.”
“No, don’t. I’ll… just… gimme a minute, please.”
Jared watched as Jensen pressed his fist into his own chest, rubbing at the spot just above his heart as if he could massage it through is ribcage. His breathing became deeper, and Jensen's pale face turned back to its normal color. He pulled his chair up to the table and looked up at Sally. “Could I get a bottle of water please, sparkling if you have it? And some plain toast, no butter.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
He nodded to her and Jared sat down, leaning back in his chair and eyeing Jensen warily. “So what was that about?”
“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Can we just… not talk about it? After this I’ll go home and lie down. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow, to find a way to keep myself from dying of boredom without killing your town.” He looked up at Jared pleadingly, “really, can we drop it?”
Jared nodded. “We can drop it. For now.”
“Thank you.”
He ate his toast while Sally tried to whisk away the cholesterol-bomb-special from in front of him.
Jared just held out his hand, taking the plate from her. He ate both of them. Jensen was still shaky and unsure of his knees, so he was grateful for the extra time, what little there was of it. Jared ate like it was the first food he’d seen in months.
When they were done they headed back to the house, this time taking the boardwalk - easier to navigate, Jensen figured.
Jared kept up both ends of the conversation until they were at Jensen's door.
“So um, you need any help?”
“No, I’m just going to watch some TV. My Netflix should arrive today.”
“The mail doesn’t come here, you know.”
“What?”
“It comes to the post office, and you have to pick it up there. Do you want me to go get it for you?”
“They won’t give you my mail. It’s a federal offense.”
Jared smiled. “Wanna bet?”
Jensen shook his head. “It really won’t come here?”
“No, look, no mailbox.”
“Oh, huh. Well, I guess I’ll go later.”
Jared nodded and Jensen waved as he closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath once he was on the other side.
He felt exhausted. Completely wiped out.
He lay back on the sofa, his fingers twitching for his phone. Not the small non-QWRTY keyboard flip phone he’d had to switch to. His real phone, the one he’d had to destroy. He texted, slowly, and imprecisely.
NT WRKG. CMING HOM. C U SOON.
The phone rang less than a minute later. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m coming back to Dallas. I can’t relax, it was stupid to try.”
“Listen to me, of course it’s not working; you’re probably sifting through the local paper for business opportunities and haven’t been more than ten feet from your laptop since you got there; which I might add, is less than ten days ago.”
“Chris…” he knew his voice sounded whiny and he didn’t care.
“Listen to me, Jen. This isn’t some fuck around, do it or don’t kinda thing. This is real. The stakes are real and you are staying there. Danni and I will be there in six weeks, so just hang on for a little bit. Go swimming - ocean, pool, I don’t care, as long as it’s somewhere your phone and computer can’t follow.
“You can’t relax? Bullshit, you can do whatever you put your mind to. I’ve seen it. You can’t NOT relax. There’s too much at risk. You hearing me?”
Jensen nodded and after a few moments of silence remembered that Chris couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’m hearing you, but this kid...”
“Kid?”
“Boy, man, whatever.”
“Man, there’s a man there you like?”
“I didn’t say I like him. He’s… he’s like, twenty two.”
Chris snorted. “You’re twenty eight, not exactly a fossil.”
“Chris.”
“Stop whining, I’m in the middle of practice. You gonna be okay 'til I can call you without the rest of the band glaring at me and hating you?”
“I guess. Can I…”
“No.”
“I haven’t even asked yet.”
“You were gonna ask if you could come up and visit Dallas, right?”
Jensen chose silence over verifying Chris’s accuracy.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No, you can’t come here. I’ll be there soon enough. I gotta get back to rehearsal now.”
“Okay.”
“Jen, breathe through it.”
“I hate when you tell me that.”
Chris hung up.
Jensen closed his eyes. As the adrenaline rush subsided, his legs and arms felt heavy. He was asleep before long.
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