Leap of Faith - Chapter 26
Feb. 27th, 2010 12:39 am![[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: 4,010
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.
Summary: AU / Everybody has a dream. Some people make their dreams come true. Some just let their life slip by thinking about it.
Chapter 26:
Jensen peeked out from behind the curtain and watched as Jared made a final bow to the crowd and ran off the stage in his direction. Jared smiled when he saw Jensen and winked. Instinctively Jensen turned around to see if anyone else had caught it but found that everyone was busy with one thing or another. As Jared closed the gap between them Jensen’s palms began to get sweaty and he had to wipe them on his jeans.
"Hey Jen. You enjoyed the show?" Jared asked, taking both Jensen’s hands in his and holding them for what seemed like forever when in fact it was just a few seconds.
"Uh...yeah. The crowd really seemed into it," Jensen said, taking another look over his shoulder and consequently into the crowd. From what he could see there was not an empty seat left in the arena and the crowd seemed more riled up than ever, chanting Jared’s name.
"Yes, they were. God, it seems every time I do a show it just gets better and better," As if the realities of what he had said hit him he continued with, "I'm going to miss this, man. All of it - the lights, the crowds, the enigma of it all. This is all I know. I don't know how I'm going to survive without it."
Jensen wanted to say something. He wanted to look Jared in the eye and tell him that everything was going to be fine but he knew that was not true. How could he look at Jared and tell him that giving up everything he had spent most of his life working for would be easy? He couldn't. So like a scared pack rat he just avoided Jared’s eyes and looked down at his feet.
"Anyway, that's not what's important, right? We're going to blow them away baby, you and me. We're going to make an incredible life together...you and me."
Jensen could not tell if Jared was saying that for his benefit or for his own. All Jensen knew for certain was that he felt an incredible amount of guilt in his heart. How could he not? The man was giving up not only his job but also his life for them, and while a fulfilling relationship and a lifetime with the man he loved was what Jensen had always wanted, he was beginning to wonder if the price of it all was just too high. He couldn't tell Jared that though. How could he? He was the one who had brought him to that point of discovery. How could he just come in and rearrange his life and priorities and then all of a sudden express his doubts? It just wouldn't be fair to Jared. The chanting of the crowd reached a fever pitch level and drowned out Jensen’s thoughts.
"I should go. After all, can't keep the fans waiting," Jared stated and with that, he ran back out on to the stage and out of Jensen’s line of sight, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
_______________________________
"How should I do it?"
Jensen looked up from the book he had been reading and turned to look at Jared who had been pacing the bedroom floor for the last half an hour, something that was slowly beginning to get on Jensen’s nerves.
"Do what?" Jensen questioned, looking at Jared intently. Something was up, that much he knew.
"Come out. I mean, how should I say it? You know, I was thinking I can make it less of a statement and more of my right to live my life in private."
"I don't know. How do you think you should do it?" Jensen countered. One look at Jared’s face and Jensen knew he was in trouble.
"You don't know? Come on, Jensen! You did this before. Help me out here!"
"I don't know what to tell you, Jared. It's just something you have to work out on your own. I can't tell you how to come out. Each person is different. The way someone else came out may not be the best way for you to come out."
"Well , I'm not asking you the best way for someone else to come out. I don't give a fuck about that. I'm asking you what you think is the best way for me to come out," By that point, Jensen could tell that Jared was getting agitated, the tell-tale signs were in his voice.
"I don't know, Jared. It's not something I can advise you on."
Jensen knew that was a copout but he was at a loss for words.
"You don't know? You don't know! Fine! Well, as my goddamn publicist, could you please give me some fucking advice on how I should handle this shit?!" Jared screamed, and it was as if a dam had burst and all Jensen’s frustrations came pouring out.
"Don't you dare fucking scream at me, Jared. For your information, I am your former publicist and I have no advice to offer you on how to handle this shit so just get off my fucking back about it! If you wanted to come out, you just would, without all this beating around the bush!"
"You know what? Fuck...," Jared started but then stopped. He shook his head and started to walk out of the room but then stopped, turned and walked back over to Jensen, "I'm so fucking sorry I want to get your seal of approval for matters that concern our fucking relationship. I'm sorry that I want to consult with you before I go and do this and I'm sorry I give a damn about your feelings! Next time I won't be so fucking considerate!" And with that Jared walked out leaving Jensen feeling lower than shit. All Jensen had to do was talk to Jared and even that he could not achieve without fucking it up. Once again a strong sense of guilt overwhelmed him and he felt as if he were responsible for all the happenings that were occurring between them recently. His sudden wave of regret and Jared’s newfound need to show his true self to the world was something that Jensen was not prepared to deal with. Jensen never imagined things would come so far and once they had, he felt as if he was allowing everything that he had ever hoped for and dreamed of to slowly and ever so painfully slip through his fingers without a fight.
_______________________________
Why did things have to be this complicated? Why the fuck did it have to be me? Out of all the musicians out there, why the hell did I have to be the one to turn out like this?
Jared could not help but thinking how his life had been perfect before all of that. Before, he had no doubts about his sexuality, his career or his future plans. He was a hetero man who had no problems with getting laid. His career was right where he wanted it to be and he envisioned himself singing to the masses for the next twenty years, but suddenly everything had changed and there was nothing he could do about it. It was not as if he could turn back time to make things go back to the way they were. Jared could not change his feelings for Jensen even if he wanted to. They were way past that. He was too far gone, in too deep with Jensen to even consider ever going back. He was ready to throw everything he ever envisioned himself doing for something with Jensen and all Jensen could do was blow it off with his fucked-up indecision. What did Jensen have to be indecisive about? He was out to everyone; he had his life in order. He was not the one about to make a life-altering decision that could break a dream; he was not the one about to change his lifestyle; he was not in Jared’s position and yet still he was behaving as if the burden of the world was on his shoulders. What did he have to worry about? He needed Jensen to be there for him and all he was getting from Jensen was slack. He was down to his last straw and it would not take Jared much to have Jensen pretend as if none of that never happened, but that was all he could have done, pretend. It was not as if Jared could forget, he would not have even tried. How could he forget something and someone who impacted and changed his whole outlook on life? It just was not happening. To think that he felt that way and there was not a thing he could do about it frustrated him all the more. Jared was tempted to go back into the room and to try and talk things out with Jensen but he knew that if he did things would get heated again. He was still angry and if he heard something he did not like, he would go off on Jensen. Looking at his watch Jared saw that it was almost midnight, too late to call anyone, too late to go anywhere. Jared walked to his closet and took a sheet and some pillows and for the first time in weeks he was resigned to the fact that he would be sleeping away from Jensen for a while.
_______________________________
Chris stood in the parking lot of Misha's villa and attempted to start his car but for some reason it wouldn’t start.
"Fuck!" He cursed once again, trying to get the engine to purr as it would have on any other morning, but instead he was greeted with sputtering indicating an obviously dying battery. That car was bought used when Chris moved to LA and he was guaranteed that its’ servicing had been maintained, something which Chris was beginning to doubt. All he knew for certain was that he just wanted to get out of there fast.
Chris turned the ignition off, unlocked the hood and exited his car, slamming the door extra hard. He walked to the front of the car and popped the hood. From a distance everything looked good or as good as Chris supposed a car engine was supposed to look. He attempted to touch the radiator and was rewarded with getting his fingers burnt.
"Fuck!" He cried out, pulling his hand back fast.
"You're still trying to start it?"
Chris turned to the sound of the voice and noticed Misha standing behind him, his hands folded across his chest like a protective vest.
"Yes, I'm still trying to start it," Chris responded, trying to inflict as much sarcasm into his voice as possible.
"Why don't you just let me call you a mechanic?" Misha asked, remaining motionless.
"Because I can fucking fix it myself. Why don't you just go inside, Misha? I got it covered," Chris stated unconvincingly.
"Yeah right," he scoffed, "if you could have fixed it you would have been miles away from here and miles away from me. You wouldn't be standing in the parking lot at fucking midnight trying to start it."
Misha was right, of course, but Chris would not let him know that, "Why are you out here by the way? I don't need a fucking advisor on this particular matter, thanks anyway."
"I'm not here to be your advisor. I just came out here to tell you to keep your damn cursing down so that I can get some sleep. I paid a shitload of money to stay in this villa and believe it or not, I want to get my moneys' worth."
Once again Chris had to stifle the urge to acknowledge that Misha was right, again. Staying in those villas was not cheap and the fact that Misha probably would be there for the rest of the week was not lost on Chris, but then again, Misha was a doctor and he could afford to stay in a high-class place like that.
"Whatever. Just go back inside. You're obviously not here to help me out so go inside to your expensive villa and get your moneys' worth," Chris stated, turning his back to Misha. He could tell by the silence that Misha was still standing there.
"You're an asshole, you know that, Chris? No wonder we didn't work out."
Chris ignored him as he usually did when it came to matters concerning their past relationship. He just did not have the energy to be dealing with that so late at night.
"Fine, ignore me, like you always do, but when the cops come and cart your ass off to jail, do not even bother calling my name or my number because I won't be there to help you out."
"I don't need your help, Misha. And by the way, when have I ever needed your fucking help?"
"Ha! Are you kidding me? How many times have you got your head bashed in and had to be carted into the emergency room and tended to? You forgot about that bar brawl a few months ago? I've gotten your ass out of too many situations to even count and the least you could do is be fucking grateful about it." Misha’s anger was apparent and Chris felt it deeply.
"I never said I wasn't grateful Misha, ‘cause I was," Chris managed to get out, his voice softening a bit, "I take that back, you did help me a lot...in the past. But shit, that was in the past Misha, way back. Why won't you just let it rest? Why do you want to fuck up a good memory, huh?"
"A good memory? A good memory! You call dumping me like I was a nuisance a good fucking memory?!! Get off it, Chris! It was more like a bad nightmare. You used me for your sick pleasure and you won't even be man enough to admit it. I think that's what gets me the most. Well, let me make it real easy on you, just go ahead and admit it right here, right now so I can start getting over you. Come on! You want me out of your life so bad; admit what my real purpose in your life was for. Come on! Don’t clam up on me now. Come on!" Misha was pushing and pushing and the more Chris tried to ignore it the more Misha got under his skin with his bantering, "Come on, Chris. You want to get rid of me so fucking bad then say it. Say it! Say it, dammit!" Misha screamed.
Finally Chris had had enough of it and Misha and he let loose like a geyser, "Fine, you want me to say it? Then I will. You were a fuck, Misha, a convenient fuck, OK? I never had any feelings for you, ever, you got that? Get it through your thick, fucking skull and leave me the fuck alone."
Looking at Misha, Chris could see the dejected look on his face as Misha stood in front of him unmoved and all Chris could think was 'I'm sorry I have to do this Misha, I really am'. Chris was about to turn away from him but thought better of it. He needed to leave right away with Misha knowing that it was through, no fault of his own that Chris was the way he was. Chris desperately needed Misha to know that.
"You have the money, the looks and the dick to get someone else Misha; any guy would love to have you on his arm but I'm not that guy. You need to stop nursing this crush that you think you have on me and start dating other men. The possibilities are endless. You can do...you can do so much better than me. You need to get someone who will treat you like you deserve to be treated. You need someone who doesn't have a chip on his shoulder."
"Don't patronize me, Chris. I am not some child who needs you to analyze and interpret my feelings for me. I know what I want, I know what I need and I know how I feel, OK? You can stand in front of me and lie your ass off about how you feel and that's your prerogative, but don't tell me how I'm entitled to feel and what I deserve. I'm a grown man, Chris and I can do all that shit for myself."
That little outburst of Misha’s rendered Chris speechless and he found himself at a loss for words. How could he respond to that?
"Fine, forget I said anything, OK? Just pretend we didn't have this conversation."
"Fine!"
"Good."
"Great."
They stood there like two lumps of lead staring at one other until, "If you want, I could take a look at your car for you. I did a two-year training course in mechanics when I was in community college."
Chris was surprised to hear that since he had always assumed that it was an 'only the best' policy for Misha.
"You went to community college? You never told me that," Chris stated.
"Well, you never gave me a chance," Misha responded.
Chris averted his gaze from Misha and looked past him to a car that had turned into the villa next door. Anything was better than facing his accusatory expression.
"So you think you could take a look and see what's wrong with her?" Chris asked, referring to the car.
"Yeah, no problem. I just have one favor to ask of you."
Chris was hesitant at first but if Misha was willing to compromise, so was he, "Sure."
"Can we do this tomorrow morning? It's almost one and I'm beat. I know you must be too. If it bothers you, I can take the couch. I'll look at the car first thing in the morning; just give me the luxury of peace, please."
“Sure.”
"Thank you. As long as there is no more screaming and no more fighting, we'll both be fine. So what will it be, bed or couch?" Misha asked.
"Bed. I don't feel like forcing myself into an uncomfortable position."
"Ok, I'll take the couch."
"Misha, I didn't mean it like that. We'll both share the bed, hands off each other and ourselves. Can you handle that?" Chris was aware that it probably was not one of the wisest things he ever said and as he waited for Misha's reaction, he found himself wondering if he could really keep a promise like that.
"Yeah...I can handle that," Misha stated.
For a moment Chris thought he saw a flash of indecision on Misha’s face, but obviously he had been mistaken as Misha turned around and walked towards his villa. Chris had no choice but to follow suit.
Once inside, they made their way into the bedroom. As soon as he stepped in behind Misha, Chris closed the door. That caused Misha to jump.
"You OK?" Chris asked, noticing his sudden anxiety.
"Yeah...sure, you just...the door...," Misha’s voice trailed off into oblivion.
"Sorry, I can open it if you like."
"No, I'm good...uh, you want to use the bathroom first or,-"
"No, you can go first," Chris stated, watching as Misha nodded and made his way inside, pulling the door not quite closed behind him. From his vantage point, Chris could make out the outline of his naked left hip and he had to admit it left him in an immediate state of arousal. When Misha bent over the sink, Chris caught a glimpse of his ass and it reminded him of all that he would be missing after that night. Chris expected himself to feel more distressed at the thought that he would not get another opportunity to enjoy sex with Misha again but he found himself focusing more on the fact that whatever emotional connection they had or could have had would be over as soon as Chris walked out the door. Misha walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom having changed out of his casual clothes into plaid boxers and a white T-shirt. Chris noticed that Misha avoided his eyes and looked away when he attempted to make a connection.
"The bathroom's all yours," Misha stated, getting into bed on the right side under the covers.
"Thanks," Chris mumbled, staying only a second to observe Misha’s movements and then heading into the bathroom.
_______________________________
It had been two hours since they had gotten into bed and yet, Chris was still unable to fall asleep. Instead, he found himself watching Misha's shoulder as it rose and fell as he breathed. Somehow Chris found that strangely erotic and could not help but reach out and gently touch it. Misha drew in a breath but did not turn around. Chris took it as silent acknowledgement that Misha understood what was happening or at least what was about to happen. Chris leaned into him, slipping his hand gently under the sleeve, rolled it up a little and kissed Misha’s shoulder gently flicking his tongue lightly over his warm skin Misha shuddered and turned onto his back.
As his eyes stared at the ceiling he spoke, "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," Chris responded, as he gently slipped the T-shirt over Misha’s head, leaning into Misha’s chest and kissing the fine hairs that he found there.
Misha moaned but said nothing more.
Chris looked up at his face and slowly eased his way up until his eyes were in line with Misha’s chin. He kissed it lightly.
He thought he heard Misha whisper 'Stop,' but he allowed his mind to shut it out. Misha could not possibly want him to stop what he was doing. It would be all but impossible.
He kissed the side of Misha’s neck gently and when he moaned, Chris added pressure to it, sucking as hard as he could.
"Please stop."
Chris could not mistake what Misha’s voice had so blatantly declared but he could not get the message to his brain, so he continued. At that point, he had reached Misha’s lips and he was like a mad man not caring one bit how he went about it, he just wanted Misha. Chris wanted to kiss him, maul him, fuck him.
"Chris," Misha whispered.
"Hmm," Chris barely managed to get out while kissing the side of Misha’s face.
"Stop...please...stop," Misha begged.
"Why baby, you know you want this. You feel so good Misha, so good," Chris whispered.
"Stop…stop," Misha pleaded.
There was something in Misha’s voice that made Chris stop and look into his eyes. They were wet and it was then that Chris realized that Misha was crying.
"What's the matter?" Chris asked leaning away from Misha on to his side.
"Nothing," Misha stated, still staring at the ceiling.
"Something's the matter. You ‘re crying."
It was as if Misha were a volcano just waiting for his time to explode, and explode he did. Sobs racked his entire body as he started to fall apart.
"Misha," Chris called, reaching for him only to be rebuffed.
"No, just... leave... me... alone. You don't.... care ...about... me...so...just ...go."
Chris refused to have Misha push him away though, "No, I won't go till you tell me what's wrong," he stated. Misha kept on repeating for him to go but Chris was resilient. He was not going to abandon Misha when he was in that condition.
"I'm not leaving, Misha," Chris whispered and with that, he pulled Misha towards him and held onto him in an embrace that was dominated more by emotion rather than sexual desire. Misha seemed to understand, for he held onto Chris and cried into the crook of his neck. Any arousal that Chris might have had before was then deflated and the last thing on his mind was trying to get laid. As Misha cried harder and harder, all Chris could do to comfort Misha was to say, “I'm sorry Misha, I'm so sorry'.
Chapter 27 - Part 1
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: 4,010
Disclaimer: 100% Pure Fiction
Note: None of this would be possible and readable without my awesome beta,
bigj52 . I learn from you everyday.Summary: AU / Everybody has a dream. Some people make their dreams come true. Some just let their life slip by thinking about it.
Chapter 26:
Jensen peeked out from behind the curtain and watched as Jared made a final bow to the crowd and ran off the stage in his direction. Jared smiled when he saw Jensen and winked. Instinctively Jensen turned around to see if anyone else had caught it but found that everyone was busy with one thing or another. As Jared closed the gap between them Jensen’s palms began to get sweaty and he had to wipe them on his jeans.
"Hey Jen. You enjoyed the show?" Jared asked, taking both Jensen’s hands in his and holding them for what seemed like forever when in fact it was just a few seconds.
"Uh...yeah. The crowd really seemed into it," Jensen said, taking another look over his shoulder and consequently into the crowd. From what he could see there was not an empty seat left in the arena and the crowd seemed more riled up than ever, chanting Jared’s name.
"Yes, they were. God, it seems every time I do a show it just gets better and better," As if the realities of what he had said hit him he continued with, "I'm going to miss this, man. All of it - the lights, the crowds, the enigma of it all. This is all I know. I don't know how I'm going to survive without it."
Jensen wanted to say something. He wanted to look Jared in the eye and tell him that everything was going to be fine but he knew that was not true. How could he look at Jared and tell him that giving up everything he had spent most of his life working for would be easy? He couldn't. So like a scared pack rat he just avoided Jared’s eyes and looked down at his feet.
"Anyway, that's not what's important, right? We're going to blow them away baby, you and me. We're going to make an incredible life together...you and me."
Jensen could not tell if Jared was saying that for his benefit or for his own. All Jensen knew for certain was that he felt an incredible amount of guilt in his heart. How could he not? The man was giving up not only his job but also his life for them, and while a fulfilling relationship and a lifetime with the man he loved was what Jensen had always wanted, he was beginning to wonder if the price of it all was just too high. He couldn't tell Jared that though. How could he? He was the one who had brought him to that point of discovery. How could he just come in and rearrange his life and priorities and then all of a sudden express his doubts? It just wouldn't be fair to Jared. The chanting of the crowd reached a fever pitch level and drowned out Jensen’s thoughts.
"I should go. After all, can't keep the fans waiting," Jared stated and with that, he ran back out on to the stage and out of Jensen’s line of sight, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
_______________________________
"How should I do it?"
Jensen looked up from the book he had been reading and turned to look at Jared who had been pacing the bedroom floor for the last half an hour, something that was slowly beginning to get on Jensen’s nerves.
"Do what?" Jensen questioned, looking at Jared intently. Something was up, that much he knew.
"Come out. I mean, how should I say it? You know, I was thinking I can make it less of a statement and more of my right to live my life in private."
"I don't know. How do you think you should do it?" Jensen countered. One look at Jared’s face and Jensen knew he was in trouble.
"You don't know? Come on, Jensen! You did this before. Help me out here!"
"I don't know what to tell you, Jared. It's just something you have to work out on your own. I can't tell you how to come out. Each person is different. The way someone else came out may not be the best way for you to come out."
"Well , I'm not asking you the best way for someone else to come out. I don't give a fuck about that. I'm asking you what you think is the best way for me to come out," By that point, Jensen could tell that Jared was getting agitated, the tell-tale signs were in his voice.
"I don't know, Jared. It's not something I can advise you on."
Jensen knew that was a copout but he was at a loss for words.
"You don't know? You don't know! Fine! Well, as my goddamn publicist, could you please give me some fucking advice on how I should handle this shit?!" Jared screamed, and it was as if a dam had burst and all Jensen’s frustrations came pouring out.
"Don't you dare fucking scream at me, Jared. For your information, I am your former publicist and I have no advice to offer you on how to handle this shit so just get off my fucking back about it! If you wanted to come out, you just would, without all this beating around the bush!"
"You know what? Fuck...," Jared started but then stopped. He shook his head and started to walk out of the room but then stopped, turned and walked back over to Jensen, "I'm so fucking sorry I want to get your seal of approval for matters that concern our fucking relationship. I'm sorry that I want to consult with you before I go and do this and I'm sorry I give a damn about your feelings! Next time I won't be so fucking considerate!" And with that Jared walked out leaving Jensen feeling lower than shit. All Jensen had to do was talk to Jared and even that he could not achieve without fucking it up. Once again a strong sense of guilt overwhelmed him and he felt as if he were responsible for all the happenings that were occurring between them recently. His sudden wave of regret and Jared’s newfound need to show his true self to the world was something that Jensen was not prepared to deal with. Jensen never imagined things would come so far and once they had, he felt as if he was allowing everything that he had ever hoped for and dreamed of to slowly and ever so painfully slip through his fingers without a fight.
_______________________________
Why did things have to be this complicated? Why the fuck did it have to be me? Out of all the musicians out there, why the hell did I have to be the one to turn out like this?
Jared could not help but thinking how his life had been perfect before all of that. Before, he had no doubts about his sexuality, his career or his future plans. He was a hetero man who had no problems with getting laid. His career was right where he wanted it to be and he envisioned himself singing to the masses for the next twenty years, but suddenly everything had changed and there was nothing he could do about it. It was not as if he could turn back time to make things go back to the way they were. Jared could not change his feelings for Jensen even if he wanted to. They were way past that. He was too far gone, in too deep with Jensen to even consider ever going back. He was ready to throw everything he ever envisioned himself doing for something with Jensen and all Jensen could do was blow it off with his fucked-up indecision. What did Jensen have to be indecisive about? He was out to everyone; he had his life in order. He was not the one about to make a life-altering decision that could break a dream; he was not the one about to change his lifestyle; he was not in Jared’s position and yet still he was behaving as if the burden of the world was on his shoulders. What did he have to worry about? He needed Jensen to be there for him and all he was getting from Jensen was slack. He was down to his last straw and it would not take Jared much to have Jensen pretend as if none of that never happened, but that was all he could have done, pretend. It was not as if Jared could forget, he would not have even tried. How could he forget something and someone who impacted and changed his whole outlook on life? It just was not happening. To think that he felt that way and there was not a thing he could do about it frustrated him all the more. Jared was tempted to go back into the room and to try and talk things out with Jensen but he knew that if he did things would get heated again. He was still angry and if he heard something he did not like, he would go off on Jensen. Looking at his watch Jared saw that it was almost midnight, too late to call anyone, too late to go anywhere. Jared walked to his closet and took a sheet and some pillows and for the first time in weeks he was resigned to the fact that he would be sleeping away from Jensen for a while.
_______________________________
Chris stood in the parking lot of Misha's villa and attempted to start his car but for some reason it wouldn’t start.
"Fuck!" He cursed once again, trying to get the engine to purr as it would have on any other morning, but instead he was greeted with sputtering indicating an obviously dying battery. That car was bought used when Chris moved to LA and he was guaranteed that its’ servicing had been maintained, something which Chris was beginning to doubt. All he knew for certain was that he just wanted to get out of there fast.
Chris turned the ignition off, unlocked the hood and exited his car, slamming the door extra hard. He walked to the front of the car and popped the hood. From a distance everything looked good or as good as Chris supposed a car engine was supposed to look. He attempted to touch the radiator and was rewarded with getting his fingers burnt.
"Fuck!" He cried out, pulling his hand back fast.
"You're still trying to start it?"
Chris turned to the sound of the voice and noticed Misha standing behind him, his hands folded across his chest like a protective vest.
"Yes, I'm still trying to start it," Chris responded, trying to inflict as much sarcasm into his voice as possible.
"Why don't you just let me call you a mechanic?" Misha asked, remaining motionless.
"Because I can fucking fix it myself. Why don't you just go inside, Misha? I got it covered," Chris stated unconvincingly.
"Yeah right," he scoffed, "if you could have fixed it you would have been miles away from here and miles away from me. You wouldn't be standing in the parking lot at fucking midnight trying to start it."
Misha was right, of course, but Chris would not let him know that, "Why are you out here by the way? I don't need a fucking advisor on this particular matter, thanks anyway."
"I'm not here to be your advisor. I just came out here to tell you to keep your damn cursing down so that I can get some sleep. I paid a shitload of money to stay in this villa and believe it or not, I want to get my moneys' worth."
Once again Chris had to stifle the urge to acknowledge that Misha was right, again. Staying in those villas was not cheap and the fact that Misha probably would be there for the rest of the week was not lost on Chris, but then again, Misha was a doctor and he could afford to stay in a high-class place like that.
"Whatever. Just go back inside. You're obviously not here to help me out so go inside to your expensive villa and get your moneys' worth," Chris stated, turning his back to Misha. He could tell by the silence that Misha was still standing there.
"You're an asshole, you know that, Chris? No wonder we didn't work out."
Chris ignored him as he usually did when it came to matters concerning their past relationship. He just did not have the energy to be dealing with that so late at night.
"Fine, ignore me, like you always do, but when the cops come and cart your ass off to jail, do not even bother calling my name or my number because I won't be there to help you out."
"I don't need your help, Misha. And by the way, when have I ever needed your fucking help?"
"Ha! Are you kidding me? How many times have you got your head bashed in and had to be carted into the emergency room and tended to? You forgot about that bar brawl a few months ago? I've gotten your ass out of too many situations to even count and the least you could do is be fucking grateful about it." Misha’s anger was apparent and Chris felt it deeply.
"I never said I wasn't grateful Misha, ‘cause I was," Chris managed to get out, his voice softening a bit, "I take that back, you did help me a lot...in the past. But shit, that was in the past Misha, way back. Why won't you just let it rest? Why do you want to fuck up a good memory, huh?"
"A good memory? A good memory! You call dumping me like I was a nuisance a good fucking memory?!! Get off it, Chris! It was more like a bad nightmare. You used me for your sick pleasure and you won't even be man enough to admit it. I think that's what gets me the most. Well, let me make it real easy on you, just go ahead and admit it right here, right now so I can start getting over you. Come on! You want me out of your life so bad; admit what my real purpose in your life was for. Come on! Don’t clam up on me now. Come on!" Misha was pushing and pushing and the more Chris tried to ignore it the more Misha got under his skin with his bantering, "Come on, Chris. You want to get rid of me so fucking bad then say it. Say it! Say it, dammit!" Misha screamed.
Finally Chris had had enough of it and Misha and he let loose like a geyser, "Fine, you want me to say it? Then I will. You were a fuck, Misha, a convenient fuck, OK? I never had any feelings for you, ever, you got that? Get it through your thick, fucking skull and leave me the fuck alone."
Looking at Misha, Chris could see the dejected look on his face as Misha stood in front of him unmoved and all Chris could think was 'I'm sorry I have to do this Misha, I really am'. Chris was about to turn away from him but thought better of it. He needed to leave right away with Misha knowing that it was through, no fault of his own that Chris was the way he was. Chris desperately needed Misha to know that.
"You have the money, the looks and the dick to get someone else Misha; any guy would love to have you on his arm but I'm not that guy. You need to stop nursing this crush that you think you have on me and start dating other men. The possibilities are endless. You can do...you can do so much better than me. You need to get someone who will treat you like you deserve to be treated. You need someone who doesn't have a chip on his shoulder."
"Don't patronize me, Chris. I am not some child who needs you to analyze and interpret my feelings for me. I know what I want, I know what I need and I know how I feel, OK? You can stand in front of me and lie your ass off about how you feel and that's your prerogative, but don't tell me how I'm entitled to feel and what I deserve. I'm a grown man, Chris and I can do all that shit for myself."
That little outburst of Misha’s rendered Chris speechless and he found himself at a loss for words. How could he respond to that?
"Fine, forget I said anything, OK? Just pretend we didn't have this conversation."
"Fine!"
"Good."
"Great."
They stood there like two lumps of lead staring at one other until, "If you want, I could take a look at your car for you. I did a two-year training course in mechanics when I was in community college."
Chris was surprised to hear that since he had always assumed that it was an 'only the best' policy for Misha.
"You went to community college? You never told me that," Chris stated.
"Well, you never gave me a chance," Misha responded.
Chris averted his gaze from Misha and looked past him to a car that had turned into the villa next door. Anything was better than facing his accusatory expression.
"So you think you could take a look and see what's wrong with her?" Chris asked, referring to the car.
"Yeah, no problem. I just have one favor to ask of you."
Chris was hesitant at first but if Misha was willing to compromise, so was he, "Sure."
"Can we do this tomorrow morning? It's almost one and I'm beat. I know you must be too. If it bothers you, I can take the couch. I'll look at the car first thing in the morning; just give me the luxury of peace, please."
“Sure.”
"Thank you. As long as there is no more screaming and no more fighting, we'll both be fine. So what will it be, bed or couch?" Misha asked.
"Bed. I don't feel like forcing myself into an uncomfortable position."
"Ok, I'll take the couch."
"Misha, I didn't mean it like that. We'll both share the bed, hands off each other and ourselves. Can you handle that?" Chris was aware that it probably was not one of the wisest things he ever said and as he waited for Misha's reaction, he found himself wondering if he could really keep a promise like that.
"Yeah...I can handle that," Misha stated.
For a moment Chris thought he saw a flash of indecision on Misha’s face, but obviously he had been mistaken as Misha turned around and walked towards his villa. Chris had no choice but to follow suit.
Once inside, they made their way into the bedroom. As soon as he stepped in behind Misha, Chris closed the door. That caused Misha to jump.
"You OK?" Chris asked, noticing his sudden anxiety.
"Yeah...sure, you just...the door...," Misha’s voice trailed off into oblivion.
"Sorry, I can open it if you like."
"No, I'm good...uh, you want to use the bathroom first or,-"
"No, you can go first," Chris stated, watching as Misha nodded and made his way inside, pulling the door not quite closed behind him. From his vantage point, Chris could make out the outline of his naked left hip and he had to admit it left him in an immediate state of arousal. When Misha bent over the sink, Chris caught a glimpse of his ass and it reminded him of all that he would be missing after that night. Chris expected himself to feel more distressed at the thought that he would not get another opportunity to enjoy sex with Misha again but he found himself focusing more on the fact that whatever emotional connection they had or could have had would be over as soon as Chris walked out the door. Misha walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom having changed out of his casual clothes into plaid boxers and a white T-shirt. Chris noticed that Misha avoided his eyes and looked away when he attempted to make a connection.
"The bathroom's all yours," Misha stated, getting into bed on the right side under the covers.
"Thanks," Chris mumbled, staying only a second to observe Misha’s movements and then heading into the bathroom.
_______________________________
It had been two hours since they had gotten into bed and yet, Chris was still unable to fall asleep. Instead, he found himself watching Misha's shoulder as it rose and fell as he breathed. Somehow Chris found that strangely erotic and could not help but reach out and gently touch it. Misha drew in a breath but did not turn around. Chris took it as silent acknowledgement that Misha understood what was happening or at least what was about to happen. Chris leaned into him, slipping his hand gently under the sleeve, rolled it up a little and kissed Misha’s shoulder gently flicking his tongue lightly over his warm skin Misha shuddered and turned onto his back.
As his eyes stared at the ceiling he spoke, "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," Chris responded, as he gently slipped the T-shirt over Misha’s head, leaning into Misha’s chest and kissing the fine hairs that he found there.
Misha moaned but said nothing more.
Chris looked up at his face and slowly eased his way up until his eyes were in line with Misha’s chin. He kissed it lightly.
He thought he heard Misha whisper 'Stop,' but he allowed his mind to shut it out. Misha could not possibly want him to stop what he was doing. It would be all but impossible.
He kissed the side of Misha’s neck gently and when he moaned, Chris added pressure to it, sucking as hard as he could.
"Please stop."
Chris could not mistake what Misha’s voice had so blatantly declared but he could not get the message to his brain, so he continued. At that point, he had reached Misha’s lips and he was like a mad man not caring one bit how he went about it, he just wanted Misha. Chris wanted to kiss him, maul him, fuck him.
"Chris," Misha whispered.
"Hmm," Chris barely managed to get out while kissing the side of Misha’s face.
"Stop...please...stop," Misha begged.
"Why baby, you know you want this. You feel so good Misha, so good," Chris whispered.
"Stop…stop," Misha pleaded.
There was something in Misha’s voice that made Chris stop and look into his eyes. They were wet and it was then that Chris realized that Misha was crying.
"What's the matter?" Chris asked leaning away from Misha on to his side.
"Nothing," Misha stated, still staring at the ceiling.
"Something's the matter. You ‘re crying."
It was as if Misha were a volcano just waiting for his time to explode, and explode he did. Sobs racked his entire body as he started to fall apart.
"Misha," Chris called, reaching for him only to be rebuffed.
"No, just... leave... me... alone. You don't.... care ...about... me...so...just ...go."
Chris refused to have Misha push him away though, "No, I won't go till you tell me what's wrong," he stated. Misha kept on repeating for him to go but Chris was resilient. He was not going to abandon Misha when he was in that condition.
"I'm not leaving, Misha," Chris whispered and with that, he pulled Misha towards him and held onto him in an embrace that was dominated more by emotion rather than sexual desire. Misha seemed to understand, for he held onto Chris and cried into the crook of his neck. Any arousal that Chris might have had before was then deflated and the last thing on his mind was trying to get laid. As Misha cried harder and harder, all Chris could do to comfort Misha was to say, “I'm sorry Misha, I'm so sorry'.
Chapter 27 - Part 1
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no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-28 06:25 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and for the comment.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 09:52 pm (UTC)And wake the fuck up Chris. Misha wants you to love him completely, not just when you're horny.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-28 06:35 pm (UTC)LOL, that is so Brian Kinney. I like that! :D
Thanks for reading and caring enough to leave a comment. It means A LOT! :*
no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 04:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-28 06:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-28 06:40 pm (UTC)And I know, Misha/Chris is really weird, but I wanted to try something that was not tried much before, so... :D
Thanks for reading!