Leap of Faith - Chapter 24
Jan. 20th, 2010 07:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
something_rareTitle: Leap of Faith
Pairing: Jensen Ackles /Jared Padalecki (eventually), Mentions of Jensen/OMC, Jared/OMC and Others
Other Characters: Tom Welling, Chris Kane, Danneel Harris, Misha Collins
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 4,528
Disclaimer: 100% Pure Fiction
Note: None of this would be possible and readable without my awesome beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bigj52 . I learn from you everyday.
Summery: AU / Everybody has a dream. Some people make their dreams come true. Some just let their life slip by thinking about it.
Jared tried really hard to find words to describe what he was feeling. It was like a euphoric high without the drugs. He had never been this happy and content with his life and he wanted to take those feeling and run with it as far as he could. Of course life has a way of getting in the way but unlike all those times before, Jared was not letting it take over his relationship. After all, only one of them could steer the boat and that was without a doubt him. Sometimes, of course, Jared had come close to reverting to his old ways but all he had to do was just look over at Jensen and see what he had and he just knew he had to find a compromise. It was not a case of choosing his music or Jensen anymore. It was not even an option Jared was willing to consider. It was either Jensen or nothing and Jared was definitely choosing Jensen. Of course all this was said and done while Jared was out of the studio and on a vacation so the full reality of what they were going to deal with when they got back to the 'real world' had not hit them yet, and there was still the obvious problem of Patrick. Jared was behind almost a month and a half with his money. Patrick was monopolising Jared’s cell phone like a crazy man, and it was getting harder for Jared to hide what he was doing from Jensen. Just the night before Jensen had asked him about it and they had come so close to an all-out shouting match.
"Jared?"
"Yeah."
"Your phone is going off again," and indeed when Jared picked it up, he saw Patrick’s number flashing on the screen.
"Yeah, thanks," Jared leaned over and kissed Jensen on the lips before walking over to the sofa and sitting down in front of the television.
"Aren't you going to answer it?"
"Nah."
"Jared."
Jared could tell by the tone of Jensen’s voice what was coming and he tried to change the subject.
"You want to go out tonight, maybe down to our usual diner?"
"No," Jensen paused, and then continued, "I want to know who's been calling you every hour on the hour."
Jared could hear the jealousy in Jensen’s voice and tried to offer an explanation.
"It's nobody, Jensen, probably a wrong number. You would think the sucker on the other line would know by now that I am not the one he’s been looking for."
Jensen turned to him and cracked a smile, "I'm not amused, Jared and I'm not stupid either,” With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the room towards the patio that led outside.
"Jensen," Jared called after him, following close behind.
When they were neck and neck, Jared tried to kiss Jensen but Jensen pushed him away.
"If you don't want me to know who's texting you, then tell me you don't want me to know but don't stand there and lie to my face about it."
Jared could hear the anger in Jensen’s voice and all of a sudden, he started to panic. He did not want to involve Jensen in a mess of his own making but he did not want to hide it from Jensen either. Jared decided to come clean - at least half-way.
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, OK. It's just that I don't want to get you involved in this mess that I'm going through."
Jensen reached out and took Jared’s hand in his, "I'm already involved, Jared. We're in a relationship, right?"
"Yeah," Jared answered meekly.
"And we're serious about giving this our best shot, right?"
"Of course."
"Then that means that we need to be honest with each other when there is a problem that affects one of us."
Jared sighed and then said, "You're right."
"Good."
"But this is something I need to handle by myself, baby. I know you want to help but all you'll end up doing is getting in the way. I don't want to have to worry about me and you."
Jensen looked at him with something that resembled anger but soon turned into fear, "Are you in some sort of trouble, Jared?"
"No, Jensen. I just…I've just been dealing with some people that I need to deal with and when it's done, it's done."
"And that's who's texting you?"
"Yeah."
For a moment, by the look on Jensen’s face, Jared thought that his lie had become apparent but then Jensen shook his head and took Jared into his arms.
"Don't lie to me ever again, Jared. I swear...," His voice slipped off into oblivion, leaving Jared breathing a sigh of relief.
_______________________________
Thinking about how close Jared had come to almost getting caught reminded him that he still had to find a way to deal with Patrick and he had to find a way to deal with him immediately. He walked to his bedroom door and after checking to see that Jensen was still asleep, quietly shut the door. He made his way over to the patio and closed the door behind him. Picking up his cell phone, Jared dialed Patrick’s number, hoping that he would not pick up but knowing damn well that he would.
"What the fuck took you so long?" The anger in Patrick’s voice came through loud and clear and it pissed Jared off. Who the fuck did Patrick think he was?
"I told you I'd deal with the money when I get back."
"I don't give a fuck what you told me! It's been almost two months, man and I have not seen one red cent from your ass yet! What the fuck are you trying to do!?!"
"You know I don't have that kind of cash lying around, Patrick, and what the fuck are you trying to do, texting me every hour on the hour?"
"Listen asshole, I can text you as many times as I want and the next time you pull a fucking stunt like that, you'll regret it. I'll have every major paper with your picture and then everyone can see what a fucking fruit Jared Padalecki really is."
"Fuck you. Fuck you!" and with that Jared slammed the phone shut. A second passed and then two before it started to ring again. He picked it up knowing damn well he was on the other line.
"Glad to see I got your attention. Now listen up. Enough of all this bullshit. I know you got the cash and I know you can get it whenever and don't you fucking try and deny it ‘cause I know the drill. I want what I'm owed plus an extra grand for making me run after your ass and I want it tomorrow, same time, same place. You got it??"
What Jared would not have done to be able to reach through the phone and strangle Patrick till he stopped breathing.
"You got it? "
"Yeah, I got it," Jared growled, barely managing to hold his anger in check.
"Good, now don't be late or you're going to regret it. Sleep tight, sweet pea," and with that, Patrick hung up, leaving Jared with the urge to drive all the way over to his place and burn the joint down. Jared actually had to shake himself out of that thought because he knew if he were to dwell on it too long, too hard, he might have gone ahead and done it. He would have done anything to get that jerk out of his life, but he had to think about someone other than himself, because anything that he did would not only affect him it would affect Jensen. If Jared was thrown in prison because of a hasty decision on his part, Jensen would be the one left out there to suffer and that, Jared could not allow. He walked back inside and took his time opening the bedroom door, getting into bed with his man and gently pulling the covers over both of them.
_______________________________
It had been a week since Chris had moved to LA and all he could think about was the fact that he missed Nashville. As he got ready to hang out with a few of his new colleagues, Chris could not help but think that it was the first time in a long time that he wished he had stayed home back in Nashville.
His phone rang, breaking his thoughts.
"Hello," he answered keeping the edge out of his voice.
"Hey Chris, it's Steve."
"Hey Steve, what's up? You guys leaving already?"
"Yeah, but there has been a change of plans."
"OK, what's on the agenda?"
"Well Jason's best friend is in from Nashville and he decided we should take him out with us tonight."
"No problem."
"Well...we decided that instead of going to the club, we could probably go out to eat instead and maybe do a movie, his friend isn't into the club thing and frankly, I'm not up to it either."
To say that Chris was relieved would have been an understatement. He was ecstatic.
"That's great, Steve."
"Yeah and guess what?"
"What?"
"His friend is gay and single."
Uh huh, here we go.
For the past few weeks, Steve and his other colleagues had been trying to set Chris up with the perfect guy and Chris had graciously accepted most if not all their offers but that night, he was not in the mood.
"Not interested. Haven't you learned anything from the last three or four men you tried to fix me up with?"
"Actually, I have. You're just picky. But trust me Chris, this one is a keeper. He's rich, good looking, big di..." Chris did not need to hear anymore and he told Steve so.
"OK, OK, but promise me you'll give it a decent try, not like with Brian."
"Yeah, OK, but this is it. I can find my own man to fuck."
"I'm sure you can," and with that, Steve hung up.
What is up with attached people that makes them rush to find their single friends a partner? Chris thought about his new circle of friends. He had met Steve in college almost seven years ago. They got along and he was a cool guy but not Chris’s type. He had a girlfriend of two years. Jason had been working with Chris since ‘04. Julie and her husband, Josh, had been together since ‘99 and both had been good friends of Chris. As Chris got ready to take a shower, he decided that the best he could do for the sake of his friends was to go with the flow and see where he would end up.
_______________________________
Chris had barely walked into the restaurant when he was nearly mobbed by a group of eager beavers waiting to be seated. The one to his right was a loud-mouthed redhead that kept on pawing her better half as if she were a cat and he a tree.
"Excuse me," Chris stated as she bumped against Chris for what seemed like the fifth time.
"What!" She replied, releasing her grip on her companion and turning to face Chris, her facial features turning ever so slowly into a scowl.
"I said 'excuse me’. You bumped into me."
"So?"
'Fuck it!' Chris thought, turning onto his heel and about to walk out when a man walking through the door bumped into him again.
"Where the fuck are your manners, man?" Chris balked, looking up just as the man passed him.
The man stopped and turned to face Chris, the words "I'm sorry," barely leaving his lips when a look of recognition lit up his face. Chris could imagine his own face wearing a similar expression.
"Misha!" Chris cried out, his voice betraying his shock. It had been a while since he had seen Misha.
"Chris! Hi, how are you?" Misha walked up to Chris and as if it were a natural thing to do, he hugged Chris. Chris was so surprised that he melted so easily into Misha’s embrace. It was not as if they had parted on the best of terms.
Misha pulled apart from Chris and ran a hand through his hair.
"Wow. I didn't expect to see you here. What are you doing here anyway?"
Even though Misha’s face remained neutral, his voice betrayed his nervousness.
"Same as you, I suppose. Some good food, drinks, music. I'm actually meeting a group of my colleagues," Chris looked down at his watch and then continued with, "Actually, they're running a bit late. You?"
"A friend," Misha paused and as if he wanted to ask a question, he raised his finger to his chin, "Uh...so. Are you living in LA now?"
"Yeah. It’s been here a few months now. Pretty neat place but it's no Nashville, I'll give you that."
Misha laughed and Chris had to block out all memories associated with that.
"Yeah, no Nashville," Misha was about to say something else when the front door opened and Chris spotted some of his party making their way through it.
"Chris!" Chris looked over the heads of other diners and finally spotted Julie and Josh.
"Guys, over here!" Chris shouted and waved. Finally having caught their attention, Chris turned to face Misha.
"Well, my friends are here."
"Yeah."
"And I should go."
"I know."
"So if you want to join us until your friend shows up...you're welcome."
Misha seemed excited at the prospect but then, "Nah, I don't want to intrude,-"
"No, come on. It'll be fun. Besides, we've got a lot of catching up to do, it's been a while."
"Yeah...too long, Chris," Misha’s voice filled him with a sense of something that he feared was remorse or maybe regret.
"I'm sorry Misha, I really am."
"Forget it...I'm over it...I really am."
"Then come join me...please," Chris put on what he thought was his pleading look and was surprised to see Misha’s resilience wavering. Finally Misha relented and shook his head. By then, Julie and Josh had made it to Chris’s side and were exchanging introductions with Misha
Julie must have sensed the electricity between them so she went in for the kill.
"So Misha, you and Chris know each other?"
"Yeah we do, from Nashville. We used to da...uh, we used to hang out."
"You guys used to 'hang out' a lot?" Julie asked placing heavy emphasis on the words ‘hang out’.”
"Uh...yeah, we did," Misha answered his voice somber and his eyes piercing Chris’s. Chris had to quickly avert his gaze to keep the guilt at bay.
"Come on now, Julie. Don't grill the man," Chris interjected before things got too complicated to handle. Misha seemed grateful for the save and smiled with a sense of relief.
"OK, OK, no need to get all sensitive, Chris. Come on guys, our seats are ready," With that she took Josh's hand and led the way to their table.
So there they were, two couples sitting across from each other, waiting for the other to speak first when all of a sudden, Chris heard, "Well I'll be damned, look what the cat dragged in. Fuck Misha, get up and give your boy a hug."
Chris looked over his shoulder and saw Jason approach Misha from his side of the table and grab him up in a bear hug.
"Fuck, you got big, man."
"Yeah...well ,look at you!" Continuing to hug they looked at each other. Finally they acknowledged the rest of the group.
"Chris, Chris, Chris. Why am I not surprised?" Jason stated.
"What!" Chris proclaimed innocently, knowing damn well what Jason was implying. He could tell by the glances he was sending Chris’s way.
"I see you've met your date for tonight. Misha this is my friend and colleague Chris and Chris, this is my boy Misha."
By that point, Chris was way past surprised and just had to smile inwardly to keep from laughing out loud.
"We know each other from back home," Chris stated, clearing up the confused look on Jason's face.
"Yeah," Misha concurred.
"So much for a set-up!" Jason quickly interjected, shaking his head and pulling out a seat for his girlfriend, Kristin.
Misha turned to look at Chris at the exact moment that Chris turned to look at him and quickly averted his gaze when their eyes met. Chris could tell by the way Misha constantly shifted in his seat that he was uncomfortable, and if Chris was willing to admit it, so was he.
"Shit!" called Jason, breaking into Chris’s thoughts and turning all attention on him.
"What?" replied Julie.
"What day is today?" He continued.
"The 22nd, why?"
"Shit, shit, shit!"
"Jason, what's the matter?" Kristin interjected, her right hand reaching for her boyfriend's left.
"The concert," Jason stated, slapping his hand to his forehead.
"Shit, you're right!" Josh added.
Chris sensed a plan here and his suspicions were quickly confirmed when eventually everyone got up and started putting on their coats.
"You got the tickets, Jason?" Josh asked, avoiding Chris’s steady gaze.
"Yeah buddy, right here. I can't believe we forgot!" Jason answered, his attempt to hide his ever-growing smile failing.
"Sure you did. You are one fucked-up friend, you know that, Jason," Chris stated, his hands crossed over his chest, "I bet you there happens to be six tickets there."
Jason pulled out his wallet and counted off the tickets for everyone to see.
"Yup, six tickets, ready, waiting and accounted for. It’s Zeppelin, Chris. You know how I feel about that band,” and with that, he burst out laughing.
"You're one sick fuck, you know that," Chris growled to no one in particular. It was not that he was angry. It was just that he would be left alone with Misha and he was not prepared for that, not yet.
"Yeah? Well you can give all the honors to the ladies, they planned it all," Josh said leaning in to kiss Kristin.
Chris shook his head and was about to speak again when Misha piped in, "Well, good one guys, really."
"Well, at least my best friend has a sense of humor," Jason chimed in.
Chris turned to look at Misha and the look on his face told Chris that he had something planned and that Chris should just play along. Well, he was all for it.
"Fine, good one, I'll give you that," Chris dryly stated.
They both got up from the table and proceeded to say their goodbyes. While Chris shook all the hands of the men, Misha got up close and personal and hugged all four of them. Chris felt a hint of jealousy but he quickly shook it away.
As they all walked out, smiles adorning their faces as if they had accomplished something, Misha turned to Chris and held out his hand.
"You son of a bitch," Chris stated, shaking his head. In the palm of Misha’s hands lay four wallets.
"You should trust me more, Chris."
"I guess I should. Where did you learn to do that?"
"I wasn't always a doctor, you know."
Chris shook his head again and removed Jason's wallet from the stack. Opening it, he saw the stack of cash and sure enough, six tickets to the concert. Oh! Jason was going to be pissed!
After a while, the moment began to wear off and once again things were as awkward as they were in the beginning.
"So...," Chris started but Misha cut him off.
"We don't have to do this, Chris. I'm sure Jason will understand and,-"
"And what? I don't mind, honestly. Why don’t we have dinner on them?" Chris smirked, holding up a wad of cash taken from all four wallets. Misha returned the smile and replied with an "OK."
As they quietly went over the menu, Chris shook his head and thought once again how ironic the whole situation was.
_______________________________
As his eyes adjusted to the light around him, Chris became painfully aware that something was missing. He did not know what it was yet but he had a feeling that kept telling him that something was not right. It could have been the fact that the beige wallpaper was not that of his own apartment or that the massive French doors came nowhere close to resembling his timber ones. What really gave it away though was the pair of white boxers that were folded neatly on the chair closest to the bedroom door. Chris knew that he didn't wear boxers and that he was in no way a neat freak so he had to assume that the boxers and the surrounding property belonged to someone else. And as if on cue, he spoke up, "You're awake. Good. You want milk and sugar with your coffee? I'm also making breakfast, you have a choice of oatmeal with toast or eggs and bacon," Misha stated, crossing over from the bathroom into the bedroom with a towel around his waist that barely managed to cover him.
Chris sat up and rubbed his eyes in a move to ensure that he wasn't imagining things.
"Chris, you OK?" Misha asked again, stopping to cast a long look his way. One filled with obvious concern.
"Yeah, thanks," Chris replied, trying to clear his head in an effort to remove the cloudiness and somehow remember what had happened between them the night before. He couldn't think though, not with Misha parading in front of him half-naked, already making a tempting situation more appealing.
"Put on some clothes, will you?" Chris stated a little too harshly. Misha stopped rummaging through a closet and turned to look at him, a look of anxiety written all over his face.
"Yeah...sure," and with that he pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He walked back into the bathroom and reappeared shortly, holding a fresh towel and washcloth in one hand.
"Here. You're free to take a shower if you want, I'll be outside," Before Chris could respond, he walked out of the room and closed the door gently behind him.
As soon as he left, Chris held his hand in his head and began to silently curse himself.
You fucking idiot! What have you gone and done now?!
Chris remembered them eating dinner, talking and actually laughing as if they were the best of friends. He remembered the bottle of wine he had insisted they order and he remembered the repeated refill of vodka afterwards. He remembered insisting that they ride back together in his car instead of Misha taking a cab. He remembered Misha taking the wheel and then him passing out. It didn't take a lot of deduction to figure out the rest of the story. They obviously had sex last night, and a lot of it judging by the number of used condoms not too carefully concealed in the trashcan beside the bed, and Chris couldn't help but think that he was being a real asshole by starting things with Misha allover again. He didn't want a repeat of what went down between them in LA. He didn't need all that drama again but obviously it was there and he knew he had to deal with it before things had an opportunity to get out of hand.
Chris grabbed the towel and washrag from a nearby chair and headed for the shower.
_______________________________
Misha stood by the stove pretending to pay attention to the bacon frying in the pan but Chris knew that was the least important thing on his mind, it had to be. Chris had come into the kitchen all geared up to thank Misha for a wonderful night and for his hospitality, but one look at Misha’s face told him that that just wasn't the way to go. Misha wasn't just a nameless trick who had brought Chris home for the night; it was someone who Chris cared a great deal about, even if it didn't seem like it.
"Misha, about last night,-" Chris started.
"Forget it."
"No, I'm sorry about everything. I,-"
"Shit Chris! I said forget it!" His voice had raised at least an octave and Chris could make out a prominent vein in his neck.
"Fine," Chris replied, quietly avoiding his eye.
"You know what? I don't even know why I bother anymore. It's like I'm wasting my time with you. I know you don't want to have anything to do with me and I still keep trying to push it...," and as Misha rambled on, it became clear to Chris that there was more to this than met the eye.
"What are you talking about, Misha?" Chris asked.
"I knew it was you," Misha stated firmly.
"What do you mean you knew it was me?" Chris challenged.
"When Jason told me about his mystery friend, he showed me a photo of you. I knew from the get go that it was you and I still went ahead with the plan."
"But why?"
"Because...because I can't get it through my thick skull that you and I are through," That simple confession on Misha’s part threw Chris for a loop. He had long ago assumed that Misha had moved on to bigger and better things and that he was just a distant memory for him but obviously, he had been wrong.
Misha moved away from Chris and towards the stove, turning off the heat under the frying pan. His back was towards Chris but Chris could tell that he had grown tense. His shoulders seemed stiff and he refused to move from his position.
"That's not true," Chris proclaimed, walking over to where Misha stood and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Misha did not turn around but he did not push his hand off his shoulder either, "What isn't true?"
"That I didn't want to have anything to do with you. That's bullshit."
"You could have fooled me."
Chris sighed. Of course Misha was right. He had treated Misha less than admirably and that was, of course, right up his alley but unlike the times and men before, Chris actually felt guilty about it.
"I know I acted like the biggest asshole there ever was and I gave the impression that I didn't care, but it wasn't like that."
Misha shook his head and started to laugh. He shook Chris’s hand off his shoulder and turned around to face him, a cold glare added to his features, "And what was it like Chris? You sure as hell didn't treat me like you gave a damn. It was 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' and you were gone. So don't stand in front of me and tell me that it wasn't like that."
He pushed his way past Chris and headed for the bedroom closing the door behind him. As Chris watched him go, the only thought he had was,
What the hell do you expect from me?
That was not a question Chris was ready to confront yet. Besides, it was too early for Chris to be getting so analytical.
Chapter 25
Pairing: Jensen Ackles /Jared Padalecki (eventually), Mentions of Jensen/OMC, Jared/OMC and Others
Other Characters: Tom Welling, Chris Kane, Danneel Harris, Misha Collins
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 4,528
Disclaimer: 100% Pure Fiction
Note: None of this would be possible and readable without my awesome beta,
bigj52 . I learn from you everyday.Summery: AU / Everybody has a dream. Some people make their dreams come true. Some just let their life slip by thinking about it.
Jared tried really hard to find words to describe what he was feeling. It was like a euphoric high without the drugs. He had never been this happy and content with his life and he wanted to take those feeling and run with it as far as he could. Of course life has a way of getting in the way but unlike all those times before, Jared was not letting it take over his relationship. After all, only one of them could steer the boat and that was without a doubt him. Sometimes, of course, Jared had come close to reverting to his old ways but all he had to do was just look over at Jensen and see what he had and he just knew he had to find a compromise. It was not a case of choosing his music or Jensen anymore. It was not even an option Jared was willing to consider. It was either Jensen or nothing and Jared was definitely choosing Jensen. Of course all this was said and done while Jared was out of the studio and on a vacation so the full reality of what they were going to deal with when they got back to the 'real world' had not hit them yet, and there was still the obvious problem of Patrick. Jared was behind almost a month and a half with his money. Patrick was monopolising Jared’s cell phone like a crazy man, and it was getting harder for Jared to hide what he was doing from Jensen. Just the night before Jensen had asked him about it and they had come so close to an all-out shouting match.
"Jared?"
"Yeah."
"Your phone is going off again," and indeed when Jared picked it up, he saw Patrick’s number flashing on the screen.
"Yeah, thanks," Jared leaned over and kissed Jensen on the lips before walking over to the sofa and sitting down in front of the television.
"Aren't you going to answer it?"
"Nah."
"Jared."
Jared could tell by the tone of Jensen’s voice what was coming and he tried to change the subject.
"You want to go out tonight, maybe down to our usual diner?"
"No," Jensen paused, and then continued, "I want to know who's been calling you every hour on the hour."
Jared could hear the jealousy in Jensen’s voice and tried to offer an explanation.
"It's nobody, Jensen, probably a wrong number. You would think the sucker on the other line would know by now that I am not the one he’s been looking for."
Jensen turned to him and cracked a smile, "I'm not amused, Jared and I'm not stupid either,” With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the room towards the patio that led outside.
"Jensen," Jared called after him, following close behind.
When they were neck and neck, Jared tried to kiss Jensen but Jensen pushed him away.
"If you don't want me to know who's texting you, then tell me you don't want me to know but don't stand there and lie to my face about it."
Jared could hear the anger in Jensen’s voice and all of a sudden, he started to panic. He did not want to involve Jensen in a mess of his own making but he did not want to hide it from Jensen either. Jared decided to come clean - at least half-way.
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, OK. It's just that I don't want to get you involved in this mess that I'm going through."
Jensen reached out and took Jared’s hand in his, "I'm already involved, Jared. We're in a relationship, right?"
"Yeah," Jared answered meekly.
"And we're serious about giving this our best shot, right?"
"Of course."
"Then that means that we need to be honest with each other when there is a problem that affects one of us."
Jared sighed and then said, "You're right."
"Good."
"But this is something I need to handle by myself, baby. I know you want to help but all you'll end up doing is getting in the way. I don't want to have to worry about me and you."
Jensen looked at him with something that resembled anger but soon turned into fear, "Are you in some sort of trouble, Jared?"
"No, Jensen. I just…I've just been dealing with some people that I need to deal with and when it's done, it's done."
"And that's who's texting you?"
"Yeah."
For a moment, by the look on Jensen’s face, Jared thought that his lie had become apparent but then Jensen shook his head and took Jared into his arms.
"Don't lie to me ever again, Jared. I swear...," His voice slipped off into oblivion, leaving Jared breathing a sigh of relief.
_______________________________
Thinking about how close Jared had come to almost getting caught reminded him that he still had to find a way to deal with Patrick and he had to find a way to deal with him immediately. He walked to his bedroom door and after checking to see that Jensen was still asleep, quietly shut the door. He made his way over to the patio and closed the door behind him. Picking up his cell phone, Jared dialed Patrick’s number, hoping that he would not pick up but knowing damn well that he would.
"What the fuck took you so long?" The anger in Patrick’s voice came through loud and clear and it pissed Jared off. Who the fuck did Patrick think he was?
"I told you I'd deal with the money when I get back."
"I don't give a fuck what you told me! It's been almost two months, man and I have not seen one red cent from your ass yet! What the fuck are you trying to do!?!"
"You know I don't have that kind of cash lying around, Patrick, and what the fuck are you trying to do, texting me every hour on the hour?"
"Listen asshole, I can text you as many times as I want and the next time you pull a fucking stunt like that, you'll regret it. I'll have every major paper with your picture and then everyone can see what a fucking fruit Jared Padalecki really is."
"Fuck you. Fuck you!" and with that Jared slammed the phone shut. A second passed and then two before it started to ring again. He picked it up knowing damn well he was on the other line.
"Glad to see I got your attention. Now listen up. Enough of all this bullshit. I know you got the cash and I know you can get it whenever and don't you fucking try and deny it ‘cause I know the drill. I want what I'm owed plus an extra grand for making me run after your ass and I want it tomorrow, same time, same place. You got it??"
What Jared would not have done to be able to reach through the phone and strangle Patrick till he stopped breathing.
"You got it? "
"Yeah, I got it," Jared growled, barely managing to hold his anger in check.
"Good, now don't be late or you're going to regret it. Sleep tight, sweet pea," and with that, Patrick hung up, leaving Jared with the urge to drive all the way over to his place and burn the joint down. Jared actually had to shake himself out of that thought because he knew if he were to dwell on it too long, too hard, he might have gone ahead and done it. He would have done anything to get that jerk out of his life, but he had to think about someone other than himself, because anything that he did would not only affect him it would affect Jensen. If Jared was thrown in prison because of a hasty decision on his part, Jensen would be the one left out there to suffer and that, Jared could not allow. He walked back inside and took his time opening the bedroom door, getting into bed with his man and gently pulling the covers over both of them.
_______________________________
It had been a week since Chris had moved to LA and all he could think about was the fact that he missed Nashville. As he got ready to hang out with a few of his new colleagues, Chris could not help but think that it was the first time in a long time that he wished he had stayed home back in Nashville.
His phone rang, breaking his thoughts.
"Hello," he answered keeping the edge out of his voice.
"Hey Chris, it's Steve."
"Hey Steve, what's up? You guys leaving already?"
"Yeah, but there has been a change of plans."
"OK, what's on the agenda?"
"Well Jason's best friend is in from Nashville and he decided we should take him out with us tonight."
"No problem."
"Well...we decided that instead of going to the club, we could probably go out to eat instead and maybe do a movie, his friend isn't into the club thing and frankly, I'm not up to it either."
To say that Chris was relieved would have been an understatement. He was ecstatic.
"That's great, Steve."
"Yeah and guess what?"
"What?"
"His friend is gay and single."
Uh huh, here we go.
For the past few weeks, Steve and his other colleagues had been trying to set Chris up with the perfect guy and Chris had graciously accepted most if not all their offers but that night, he was not in the mood.
"Not interested. Haven't you learned anything from the last three or four men you tried to fix me up with?"
"Actually, I have. You're just picky. But trust me Chris, this one is a keeper. He's rich, good looking, big di..." Chris did not need to hear anymore and he told Steve so.
"OK, OK, but promise me you'll give it a decent try, not like with Brian."
"Yeah, OK, but this is it. I can find my own man to fuck."
"I'm sure you can," and with that, Steve hung up.
What is up with attached people that makes them rush to find their single friends a partner? Chris thought about his new circle of friends. He had met Steve in college almost seven years ago. They got along and he was a cool guy but not Chris’s type. He had a girlfriend of two years. Jason had been working with Chris since ‘04. Julie and her husband, Josh, had been together since ‘99 and both had been good friends of Chris. As Chris got ready to take a shower, he decided that the best he could do for the sake of his friends was to go with the flow and see where he would end up.
_______________________________
Chris had barely walked into the restaurant when he was nearly mobbed by a group of eager beavers waiting to be seated. The one to his right was a loud-mouthed redhead that kept on pawing her better half as if she were a cat and he a tree.
"Excuse me," Chris stated as she bumped against Chris for what seemed like the fifth time.
"What!" She replied, releasing her grip on her companion and turning to face Chris, her facial features turning ever so slowly into a scowl.
"I said 'excuse me’. You bumped into me."
"So?"
'Fuck it!' Chris thought, turning onto his heel and about to walk out when a man walking through the door bumped into him again.
"Where the fuck are your manners, man?" Chris balked, looking up just as the man passed him.
The man stopped and turned to face Chris, the words "I'm sorry," barely leaving his lips when a look of recognition lit up his face. Chris could imagine his own face wearing a similar expression.
"Misha!" Chris cried out, his voice betraying his shock. It had been a while since he had seen Misha.
"Chris! Hi, how are you?" Misha walked up to Chris and as if it were a natural thing to do, he hugged Chris. Chris was so surprised that he melted so easily into Misha’s embrace. It was not as if they had parted on the best of terms.
Misha pulled apart from Chris and ran a hand through his hair.
"Wow. I didn't expect to see you here. What are you doing here anyway?"
Even though Misha’s face remained neutral, his voice betrayed his nervousness.
"Same as you, I suppose. Some good food, drinks, music. I'm actually meeting a group of my colleagues," Chris looked down at his watch and then continued with, "Actually, they're running a bit late. You?"
"A friend," Misha paused and as if he wanted to ask a question, he raised his finger to his chin, "Uh...so. Are you living in LA now?"
"Yeah. It’s been here a few months now. Pretty neat place but it's no Nashville, I'll give you that."
Misha laughed and Chris had to block out all memories associated with that.
"Yeah, no Nashville," Misha was about to say something else when the front door opened and Chris spotted some of his party making their way through it.
"Chris!" Chris looked over the heads of other diners and finally spotted Julie and Josh.
"Guys, over here!" Chris shouted and waved. Finally having caught their attention, Chris turned to face Misha.
"Well, my friends are here."
"Yeah."
"And I should go."
"I know."
"So if you want to join us until your friend shows up...you're welcome."
Misha seemed excited at the prospect but then, "Nah, I don't want to intrude,-"
"No, come on. It'll be fun. Besides, we've got a lot of catching up to do, it's been a while."
"Yeah...too long, Chris," Misha’s voice filled him with a sense of something that he feared was remorse or maybe regret.
"I'm sorry Misha, I really am."
"Forget it...I'm over it...I really am."
"Then come join me...please," Chris put on what he thought was his pleading look and was surprised to see Misha’s resilience wavering. Finally Misha relented and shook his head. By then, Julie and Josh had made it to Chris’s side and were exchanging introductions with Misha
Julie must have sensed the electricity between them so she went in for the kill.
"So Misha, you and Chris know each other?"
"Yeah we do, from Nashville. We used to da...uh, we used to hang out."
"You guys used to 'hang out' a lot?" Julie asked placing heavy emphasis on the words ‘hang out’.”
"Uh...yeah, we did," Misha answered his voice somber and his eyes piercing Chris’s. Chris had to quickly avert his gaze to keep the guilt at bay.
"Come on now, Julie. Don't grill the man," Chris interjected before things got too complicated to handle. Misha seemed grateful for the save and smiled with a sense of relief.
"OK, OK, no need to get all sensitive, Chris. Come on guys, our seats are ready," With that she took Josh's hand and led the way to their table.
So there they were, two couples sitting across from each other, waiting for the other to speak first when all of a sudden, Chris heard, "Well I'll be damned, look what the cat dragged in. Fuck Misha, get up and give your boy a hug."
Chris looked over his shoulder and saw Jason approach Misha from his side of the table and grab him up in a bear hug.
"Fuck, you got big, man."
"Yeah...well ,look at you!" Continuing to hug they looked at each other. Finally they acknowledged the rest of the group.
"Chris, Chris, Chris. Why am I not surprised?" Jason stated.
"What!" Chris proclaimed innocently, knowing damn well what Jason was implying. He could tell by the glances he was sending Chris’s way.
"I see you've met your date for tonight. Misha this is my friend and colleague Chris and Chris, this is my boy Misha."
By that point, Chris was way past surprised and just had to smile inwardly to keep from laughing out loud.
"We know each other from back home," Chris stated, clearing up the confused look on Jason's face.
"Yeah," Misha concurred.
"So much for a set-up!" Jason quickly interjected, shaking his head and pulling out a seat for his girlfriend, Kristin.
Misha turned to look at Chris at the exact moment that Chris turned to look at him and quickly averted his gaze when their eyes met. Chris could tell by the way Misha constantly shifted in his seat that he was uncomfortable, and if Chris was willing to admit it, so was he.
"Shit!" called Jason, breaking into Chris’s thoughts and turning all attention on him.
"What?" replied Julie.
"What day is today?" He continued.
"The 22nd, why?"
"Shit, shit, shit!"
"Jason, what's the matter?" Kristin interjected, her right hand reaching for her boyfriend's left.
"The concert," Jason stated, slapping his hand to his forehead.
"Shit, you're right!" Josh added.
Chris sensed a plan here and his suspicions were quickly confirmed when eventually everyone got up and started putting on their coats.
"You got the tickets, Jason?" Josh asked, avoiding Chris’s steady gaze.
"Yeah buddy, right here. I can't believe we forgot!" Jason answered, his attempt to hide his ever-growing smile failing.
"Sure you did. You are one fucked-up friend, you know that, Jason," Chris stated, his hands crossed over his chest, "I bet you there happens to be six tickets there."
Jason pulled out his wallet and counted off the tickets for everyone to see.
"Yup, six tickets, ready, waiting and accounted for. It’s Zeppelin, Chris. You know how I feel about that band,” and with that, he burst out laughing.
"You're one sick fuck, you know that," Chris growled to no one in particular. It was not that he was angry. It was just that he would be left alone with Misha and he was not prepared for that, not yet.
"Yeah? Well you can give all the honors to the ladies, they planned it all," Josh said leaning in to kiss Kristin.
Chris shook his head and was about to speak again when Misha piped in, "Well, good one guys, really."
"Well, at least my best friend has a sense of humor," Jason chimed in.
Chris turned to look at Misha and the look on his face told Chris that he had something planned and that Chris should just play along. Well, he was all for it.
"Fine, good one, I'll give you that," Chris dryly stated.
They both got up from the table and proceeded to say their goodbyes. While Chris shook all the hands of the men, Misha got up close and personal and hugged all four of them. Chris felt a hint of jealousy but he quickly shook it away.
As they all walked out, smiles adorning their faces as if they had accomplished something, Misha turned to Chris and held out his hand.
"You son of a bitch," Chris stated, shaking his head. In the palm of Misha’s hands lay four wallets.
"You should trust me more, Chris."
"I guess I should. Where did you learn to do that?"
"I wasn't always a doctor, you know."
Chris shook his head again and removed Jason's wallet from the stack. Opening it, he saw the stack of cash and sure enough, six tickets to the concert. Oh! Jason was going to be pissed!
After a while, the moment began to wear off and once again things were as awkward as they were in the beginning.
"So...," Chris started but Misha cut him off.
"We don't have to do this, Chris. I'm sure Jason will understand and,-"
"And what? I don't mind, honestly. Why don’t we have dinner on them?" Chris smirked, holding up a wad of cash taken from all four wallets. Misha returned the smile and replied with an "OK."
As they quietly went over the menu, Chris shook his head and thought once again how ironic the whole situation was.
_______________________________
As his eyes adjusted to the light around him, Chris became painfully aware that something was missing. He did not know what it was yet but he had a feeling that kept telling him that something was not right. It could have been the fact that the beige wallpaper was not that of his own apartment or that the massive French doors came nowhere close to resembling his timber ones. What really gave it away though was the pair of white boxers that were folded neatly on the chair closest to the bedroom door. Chris knew that he didn't wear boxers and that he was in no way a neat freak so he had to assume that the boxers and the surrounding property belonged to someone else. And as if on cue, he spoke up, "You're awake. Good. You want milk and sugar with your coffee? I'm also making breakfast, you have a choice of oatmeal with toast or eggs and bacon," Misha stated, crossing over from the bathroom into the bedroom with a towel around his waist that barely managed to cover him.
Chris sat up and rubbed his eyes in a move to ensure that he wasn't imagining things.
"Chris, you OK?" Misha asked again, stopping to cast a long look his way. One filled with obvious concern.
"Yeah, thanks," Chris replied, trying to clear his head in an effort to remove the cloudiness and somehow remember what had happened between them the night before. He couldn't think though, not with Misha parading in front of him half-naked, already making a tempting situation more appealing.
"Put on some clothes, will you?" Chris stated a little too harshly. Misha stopped rummaging through a closet and turned to look at him, a look of anxiety written all over his face.
"Yeah...sure," and with that he pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He walked back into the bathroom and reappeared shortly, holding a fresh towel and washcloth in one hand.
"Here. You're free to take a shower if you want, I'll be outside," Before Chris could respond, he walked out of the room and closed the door gently behind him.
As soon as he left, Chris held his hand in his head and began to silently curse himself.
You fucking idiot! What have you gone and done now?!
Chris remembered them eating dinner, talking and actually laughing as if they were the best of friends. He remembered the bottle of wine he had insisted they order and he remembered the repeated refill of vodka afterwards. He remembered insisting that they ride back together in his car instead of Misha taking a cab. He remembered Misha taking the wheel and then him passing out. It didn't take a lot of deduction to figure out the rest of the story. They obviously had sex last night, and a lot of it judging by the number of used condoms not too carefully concealed in the trashcan beside the bed, and Chris couldn't help but think that he was being a real asshole by starting things with Misha allover again. He didn't want a repeat of what went down between them in LA. He didn't need all that drama again but obviously it was there and he knew he had to deal with it before things had an opportunity to get out of hand.
Chris grabbed the towel and washrag from a nearby chair and headed for the shower.
_______________________________
Misha stood by the stove pretending to pay attention to the bacon frying in the pan but Chris knew that was the least important thing on his mind, it had to be. Chris had come into the kitchen all geared up to thank Misha for a wonderful night and for his hospitality, but one look at Misha’s face told him that that just wasn't the way to go. Misha wasn't just a nameless trick who had brought Chris home for the night; it was someone who Chris cared a great deal about, even if it didn't seem like it.
"Misha, about last night,-" Chris started.
"Forget it."
"No, I'm sorry about everything. I,-"
"Shit Chris! I said forget it!" His voice had raised at least an octave and Chris could make out a prominent vein in his neck.
"Fine," Chris replied, quietly avoiding his eye.
"You know what? I don't even know why I bother anymore. It's like I'm wasting my time with you. I know you don't want to have anything to do with me and I still keep trying to push it...," and as Misha rambled on, it became clear to Chris that there was more to this than met the eye.
"What are you talking about, Misha?" Chris asked.
"I knew it was you," Misha stated firmly.
"What do you mean you knew it was me?" Chris challenged.
"When Jason told me about his mystery friend, he showed me a photo of you. I knew from the get go that it was you and I still went ahead with the plan."
"But why?"
"Because...because I can't get it through my thick skull that you and I are through," That simple confession on Misha’s part threw Chris for a loop. He had long ago assumed that Misha had moved on to bigger and better things and that he was just a distant memory for him but obviously, he had been wrong.
Misha moved away from Chris and towards the stove, turning off the heat under the frying pan. His back was towards Chris but Chris could tell that he had grown tense. His shoulders seemed stiff and he refused to move from his position.
"That's not true," Chris proclaimed, walking over to where Misha stood and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Misha did not turn around but he did not push his hand off his shoulder either, "What isn't true?"
"That I didn't want to have anything to do with you. That's bullshit."
"You could have fooled me."
Chris sighed. Of course Misha was right. He had treated Misha less than admirably and that was, of course, right up his alley but unlike the times and men before, Chris actually felt guilty about it.
"I know I acted like the biggest asshole there ever was and I gave the impression that I didn't care, but it wasn't like that."
Misha shook his head and started to laugh. He shook Chris’s hand off his shoulder and turned around to face him, a cold glare added to his features, "And what was it like Chris? You sure as hell didn't treat me like you gave a damn. It was 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' and you were gone. So don't stand in front of me and tell me that it wasn't like that."
He pushed his way past Chris and headed for the bedroom closing the door behind him. As Chris watched him go, the only thought he had was,
What the hell do you expect from me?
That was not a question Chris was ready to confront yet. Besides, it was too early for Chris to be getting so analytical.
Chapter 25
