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Entry tags:
Fic: Eight Easy Steps
Title: Eight Easy Steps
Rating: R
Pairing: JDM/CMM
Disclaimer: Never happened. Nothing is assumed.
A/N: Previous parts can be found here.
Even before Bisou licked his nose, Jeff knew he was alone in the bed. The room was quiet, devoid of the energy Chad seemed to emanate. He finally pushed himself upright, rumpling Bisou’s fur, and glanced around the room.
Nothing but his suitcase and strewn clothes greeted him. So, not just off getting coffee. He would have left Joe otherwise, Jeff thought.
Well, fuck.
You knew it was a bad idea, Morgan, he told himself. He’s too fucking young. And also Chad Michael Murray. Y’know, Mayhem?
He headed for the coffee maker and set it up, flipping it on. “You need to go out, sweetheart?” he asked Bisou.
She eyed Jeff for a moment, then laid her head back on the pillow. “Guess not.”
A slip of paper caught his eye, and Jeff wandered over, glancing down.
Hey,
I had to finish packing up my stuff. Movers are coming early tomorrow. I had a great time. Thanks for everything, Chad
PS. I took Bisou out for walkies, and she did both #1 & #2.
“Well, that’s just fucking great,” Jeff drawled. “He had a great time.” A twenty dollar bill under the note fluttered in the air conditioning, along with the note that said “For last night’s dinner.”
Bisou lifted her head for a moment, tilting it at him.
“S’okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s just a twenty dollar whore today.” Jeff shook his head as she settled back down. He shouldn’t be this surprised, he thought. He’d known all along that it was a bad idea. Too fucking young. Too selfish.
But damn, he’d wanted the little bastard. They’d just…clicked somehow. It had been nice to be around someone who didn’t bullshit, who wore everything good and bad about themselves on their sleeves.
He’d forgotten that the problem with that was that you didn’t have anyone to blame but yourself when things blew up spectacularly in your face.
Okay, that wasn’t quite true. He could certainly blame the little bastard. Jesus.
In what universe was it okay to just…leave? And to leave a note and cash behind? Fuck.
“Well, that’s what you get, idiot.”
The drive back to LA was normally Jeff’s favorite part of any trip. Just him, Bisou and a decent CD player, with miles of asphalt stretching out in front of them.
This time, it wasn’t helping.
This time, he had a few extra passengers.
Guilt was riding shotgun, practically crowding Bisou out of the Jeep’s seat. He’d known better. Too fucking young. Chad had told him right up front that he wasn’t in it for anything beyond the sex. Buddy fucking.
Anger was next to Guilt, but it was tempered by the last passenger. Hurt. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. He’d really liked Chad. Had hoped for something more than one night. Had deluded himself into thinking that maybe Chad had felt something.
It had been a dumb idea. Chad was twenty five, had nothing but potential. Jeff was forty and had gotten a lucky break. He’d pretended he’d had something to offer, but in the end, he’d only been kidding himself.
And here he was, with a note and a twenty folded in his wallet, to remind him of how stupid an old man could still be.
He was five days out from North Carolina, crossing the Nevada border when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the display, recognizing Jensen’s cell number.
He slid the earpiece in, rolling his window up against the wind. “Hey, Jen,” he murmured. “How’s it going?”
“Hey. What’s going on?” Jensen’s voice was sharper than he’d expected, and Jeff shook his head.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.”
“Jeff. What happened with Chad?”
“Oh. That.” Jeff stared through the windshield as the sign for a rest stop whipped by. “Nothing major.”
“Really? Jared says that Chad’s acting like his dog died.”
“Jen, I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“C’mon, Jeff, what happened? You sound like shit.”
Jeff pulled into the rest stop and put Bisou’s leash on. “Hang on a sec.”
Bisou trotted happily around the park, sniffing trees, and Jeff turned back to the phone. “We had sex. Happy?”
“Must have been pretty bad sex to put you in that kind of mood.”
“Jen! No. It was. It was fine.”
“Fine? Wow. So, Chad’s a crap lay?” Jensen sounded positively cheered by the thought.
“It was good, okay?” Jeff growled.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Jeff sighed. “You’re right. Absolutely nothing.”
“Shit. You’re really upset. What happened?”
Jeff glanced around the rest stop, watching a family pile into their van. “We had sex. We fell asleep. I woke up alone. With a note that he had a great time.”
“Ooh, damn. That’s harsh.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What else?”
“Nothing,” Jeff said tiredly. “It shouldn’t bother me. He didn’t mean it like that.”
“What?” Jensen growled.
“He. Um. We’d gotten dinner the night before, and I’d used my card, because I didn’t have cash. Told him not to worry about it. Under the note was a twenty. Towards dinner, I know. But still.”
“Jesus, Jeff. I’m sorry. He’s a douche. You knew that going in.”
“He’s young. You were too, once.” Jeff headed back towards the Jeep. “Anyhow, no big. I’m a grownup. I’ll survive getting my feelings hurt.”
“Yeah, I know. Still sucks. You want me to kick his ass for you?”
Jeff felt a smile touch his lips. “Nah. It’s okay. I think I’m just going to chalk this one up to another lesson learned. If I keep this up, I might actually grow up before I’m fifty.”
Jen laughed softly and they talked for a couple of minutes about the show, weather in Vancouver (cold and wet, how new), and when they’d be able to get together for dinner before Jeff hung up and got back on the road. “Not long now,” he told Bisou.
By the time they got to his house, the sun was riding low in the horizon. He pushed the door open, letting Bisou dart in ahead of him, happily running through the house as he pulled in the luggage.
The message light was blinking on the phone. Probably his mother, though she usually called his cell, he thought, pushing the Play button.
The first two were garbage; a mechanical voice asking if the homeowner would like to have someone visit to talk about vinyl siding. “No, the homeowner would not,” he muttered, deleting them.
“Hey. It’s Chad,” the soft voice came from the speaker. “Um. I wanted to apologize. For hurting you. I really—yeah. I’m sorry. Bye.”
Jeff laid his head against the cool tile. The asshole was sorry. Fucking great. Bisou nosed him, probably heard Chad’s voice on the machine. “Hey, sweetheart. Daddy’s too old for this crap.”
She wagged her tail at him, and Jeff smiled. “I know. I always have my girl.” His finger hovered over the delete key for a moment before he gave up, scooping up her leash and a baggie.
Rating: R
Pairing: JDM/CMM
Disclaimer: Never happened. Nothing is assumed.
A/N: Previous parts can be found here.
Even before Bisou licked his nose, Jeff knew he was alone in the bed. The room was quiet, devoid of the energy Chad seemed to emanate. He finally pushed himself upright, rumpling Bisou’s fur, and glanced around the room.
Nothing but his suitcase and strewn clothes greeted him. So, not just off getting coffee. He would have left Joe otherwise, Jeff thought.
Well, fuck.
You knew it was a bad idea, Morgan, he told himself. He’s too fucking young. And also Chad Michael Murray. Y’know, Mayhem?
He headed for the coffee maker and set it up, flipping it on. “You need to go out, sweetheart?” he asked Bisou.
She eyed Jeff for a moment, then laid her head back on the pillow. “Guess not.”
A slip of paper caught his eye, and Jeff wandered over, glancing down.
Hey,
I had to finish packing up my stuff. Movers are coming early tomorrow. I had a great time. Thanks for everything, Chad
PS. I took Bisou out for walkies, and she did both #1 & #2.
“Well, that’s just fucking great,” Jeff drawled. “He had a great time.” A twenty dollar bill under the note fluttered in the air conditioning, along with the note that said “For last night’s dinner.”
Bisou lifted her head for a moment, tilting it at him.
“S’okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s just a twenty dollar whore today.” Jeff shook his head as she settled back down. He shouldn’t be this surprised, he thought. He’d known all along that it was a bad idea. Too fucking young. Too selfish.
But damn, he’d wanted the little bastard. They’d just…clicked somehow. It had been nice to be around someone who didn’t bullshit, who wore everything good and bad about themselves on their sleeves.
He’d forgotten that the problem with that was that you didn’t have anyone to blame but yourself when things blew up spectacularly in your face.
Okay, that wasn’t quite true. He could certainly blame the little bastard. Jesus.
In what universe was it okay to just…leave? And to leave a note and cash behind? Fuck.
“Well, that’s what you get, idiot.”
The drive back to LA was normally Jeff’s favorite part of any trip. Just him, Bisou and a decent CD player, with miles of asphalt stretching out in front of them.
This time, it wasn’t helping.
This time, he had a few extra passengers.
Guilt was riding shotgun, practically crowding Bisou out of the Jeep’s seat. He’d known better. Too fucking young. Chad had told him right up front that he wasn’t in it for anything beyond the sex. Buddy fucking.
Anger was next to Guilt, but it was tempered by the last passenger. Hurt. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. He’d really liked Chad. Had hoped for something more than one night. Had deluded himself into thinking that maybe Chad had felt something.
It had been a dumb idea. Chad was twenty five, had nothing but potential. Jeff was forty and had gotten a lucky break. He’d pretended he’d had something to offer, but in the end, he’d only been kidding himself.
And here he was, with a note and a twenty folded in his wallet, to remind him of how stupid an old man could still be.
He was five days out from North Carolina, crossing the Nevada border when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the display, recognizing Jensen’s cell number.
He slid the earpiece in, rolling his window up against the wind. “Hey, Jen,” he murmured. “How’s it going?”
“Hey. What’s going on?” Jensen’s voice was sharper than he’d expected, and Jeff shook his head.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.”
“Jeff. What happened with Chad?”
“Oh. That.” Jeff stared through the windshield as the sign for a rest stop whipped by. “Nothing major.”
“Really? Jared says that Chad’s acting like his dog died.”
“Jen, I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“C’mon, Jeff, what happened? You sound like shit.”
Jeff pulled into the rest stop and put Bisou’s leash on. “Hang on a sec.”
Bisou trotted happily around the park, sniffing trees, and Jeff turned back to the phone. “We had sex. Happy?”
“Must have been pretty bad sex to put you in that kind of mood.”
“Jen! No. It was. It was fine.”
“Fine? Wow. So, Chad’s a crap lay?” Jensen sounded positively cheered by the thought.
“It was good, okay?” Jeff growled.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Jeff sighed. “You’re right. Absolutely nothing.”
“Shit. You’re really upset. What happened?”
Jeff glanced around the rest stop, watching a family pile into their van. “We had sex. We fell asleep. I woke up alone. With a note that he had a great time.”
“Ooh, damn. That’s harsh.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What else?”
“Nothing,” Jeff said tiredly. “It shouldn’t bother me. He didn’t mean it like that.”
“What?” Jensen growled.
“He. Um. We’d gotten dinner the night before, and I’d used my card, because I didn’t have cash. Told him not to worry about it. Under the note was a twenty. Towards dinner, I know. But still.”
“Jesus, Jeff. I’m sorry. He’s a douche. You knew that going in.”
“He’s young. You were too, once.” Jeff headed back towards the Jeep. “Anyhow, no big. I’m a grownup. I’ll survive getting my feelings hurt.”
“Yeah, I know. Still sucks. You want me to kick his ass for you?”
Jeff felt a smile touch his lips. “Nah. It’s okay. I think I’m just going to chalk this one up to another lesson learned. If I keep this up, I might actually grow up before I’m fifty.”
Jen laughed softly and they talked for a couple of minutes about the show, weather in Vancouver (cold and wet, how new), and when they’d be able to get together for dinner before Jeff hung up and got back on the road. “Not long now,” he told Bisou.
By the time they got to his house, the sun was riding low in the horizon. He pushed the door open, letting Bisou dart in ahead of him, happily running through the house as he pulled in the luggage.
The message light was blinking on the phone. Probably his mother, though she usually called his cell, he thought, pushing the Play button.
The first two were garbage; a mechanical voice asking if the homeowner would like to have someone visit to talk about vinyl siding. “No, the homeowner would not,” he muttered, deleting them.
“Hey. It’s Chad,” the soft voice came from the speaker. “Um. I wanted to apologize. For hurting you. I really—yeah. I’m sorry. Bye.”
Jeff laid his head against the cool tile. The asshole was sorry. Fucking great. Bisou nosed him, probably heard Chad’s voice on the machine. “Hey, sweetheart. Daddy’s too old for this crap.”
She wagged her tail at him, and Jeff smiled. “I know. I always have my girl.” His finger hovered over the delete key for a moment before he gave up, scooping up her leash and a baggie.