beanside | Fic: Pave New Roads (Reply)

More of the OT3!verse, as promised.

Title: Pave New Roads
Rating: NC-17
Authors:

beanside
Disclaimer: Never happened! Never will, sadly. They'd be cute together.
A/n: As always, this is for the lovely

poisontaster, who would surely have killed us soon if we didn't get this up. *grin* Mucho, mucho gracias to

brynwulf for the beta!

The house was too empty. Jared could hear the rain pattering on the roof, a steady miserable sound. Even crashing on the couch with Die Hard and Lethal Weapon didn't help. All he could think of was last night; Jensen curled up between them before everything went sideways. His thoughts kept coming back to that: why had Jensen taken off? Hadn't they made things as clear?

Fine, so Jeff was probably right. So it was probably Jensen's issue, nothing that they did and nothing to do about it but wait for Jensen to get his head straight. Jeff could be reasonable about watching Jensen walk away; Jared couldn't. Maybe because Jeff expected Jensen to come back.

Then again, half the time, he couldn't make himself believe that Jeff would come back to him when he had to go out of town. It didn't make sense; Jeff had left and come back a dozen times, and Jared trusted him when he said "I love you". But there'd always be that little voice in the back of Jared's head, wondering how long it could last.

A shrink would have a field day with him. And people wondered why he and Chad were friends. Hello, abandonment issues, wonder twin powers activate.

Jared smiled bitterly as he flipped off the movie, stumbling across a re-run of House of Wax. Chad was kinda like Beetlejuice. Think his name, and somehow he always appeared. Maybe he should give the bastard a call, whine about Jensen leaving.

Nah. It still felt too fresh, too raw. Jared didn't even want to talk to Jeff about it. He'd ignored the phone, and the blinking machine in favor of sleeping late and watching shitty movies.

And here he was. Alone.

Sounding like a goth emo bitch on myspace.

This was pathetic. Time to go do something. Even if it was just painting. Or staring at the pool table where just yesterday he'd been sprawled with Jensen's cock up his ass. God, he could still feel the burn.

Bisou's head lifted suddenly, and she let out a low, mournful howl. It wasn't her "daddy's home" sound. It wasn't anything he'd heard before.

A moment later, Sadie and Harley threw themselves off the couch, darting to the back door, barking and yelping their intent to be allowed out.

"Do you really have to go? It's pouring." When Harley continued to do his little dance in front of the door, Jared levered himself off the couch, and headed towards the back door. "Fine. But don't shake off on the couch again."

Sadie abruptly changed her tack, running towards the garage door. "You're not pissing on my jeep," he muttered. "Come on, you can go out the front-- hey!" He broke off as Bisou butted him in the thigh with her nose, herding him towards the garage. "What the hell?"

With a sigh, he opened the garage door. Not worth arguing with what amounted to nearly two hundred pounds of dogs. Sadie and Harley tumbled towards the garage door, barking enthusiastically.

He flipped the switch and the garage door rose, letting in a blast of cool air and rain. Fucking weather. Didn't it know this was LA?

Bisou nudged him again, towards the door. "What?" Jared sighed. "No, c'mon, girl. You go ahead."

Harley and Sadie, he noted, needed no encouragement. They dove out into the rain, barking as they headed...for the gate?

Jared moved closer to the doorway. "Is that what's wrong? Someone's here?"

Bisou prodded him again, and he squinted against the rain. "Okay, okay, bossy thing. Y'know, they could have just hit the intercom." Although, hadn't Jeff mentioned needing to reinsulate the wires to the gate? Could they have shorted out?

"Great. The UPS guy's gonna be pissed. Assuming he didn't just leave whatever it was right there." Jared opened the door to his jeep, not surprised when Bisou hopped up next to him, settling into the passenger seat. He checked for his umbrella. No sense in getting soaked.

The gate wasn't far, but Jared drove slowly, watching for Harley or Sadie, just in case. Harley, especially, wasn't the brightest bulb.

By the time he was halfway there, he could see his babies at the gate, dancing and barking at the figure on the other side. "Okay, you're all brighter than me," he told Bisou.

She gave him a look of utter superiority and leaned forward as though urging him towards it.

About a moment later, Jared suddenly understood, as he got close enough to make out features through the rain. He slapped the gate control and slammed to a stop as close as he could safely park.

The gate slid open with a clang, and a second later, he was past the dogs, wrapping Jensen in his arms. Jensen was drenched, and a moment later Jared was soaked too, but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. "Jen!"

Jensen blinked slowly, teeth chattering against the cold. "Hey."

"You came back," Jared whispered, untangling one hand long enough to cup Jensen's jaw. Jensen looked half-drowned, washed out from the cold, but he leaned his head into Jared's touch. Jared could breathe again. "God, I didn't-- you came back," he repeated. "Let's get you inside, you look like you're freezing."

Jensen paused. "My stuff-" he muttered, turning towards three soaked boxes on the curb.

"I've got it," Jared assured Jensen, steering him gently to the waiting jeep. He flipped the heater on, and Bisou immediately flopped across Jensen's lap, leaning her whole body against him. "Good girl."

He grabbed the first two boxes, dumping them in the jeep quickly. Neither was marked, probably clothes and shit, Jared guessed. God knew, there wasn't anything else worth bringing from that dump that Jensen called his apartment.

The last box was a postal box, Jensen's address written in permanent marker on the label. The postmark was Richardson.

Jared's stomach sank. Whatever his family had sent, it couldn't be anything good. He wasn't going to look, though. If Jensen wanted to tell him, that was fine.

He was sticking with that plan when the box disintegrated on the floor of the jeep's cargo area, spilling various mundane shit on the floor. Stuff that didn't make sense. Candle holders, and socks, and a... oh fuck. Jared felt his throat tighten.

A "world's greatest dad" trophy. A carefully created valentine, addressed in crayon with lopsided childish writing to the "Best Mom Ever." Gifts and old school projects, things left behind; his family had erased any trace of Jensen from their lives with one cardboard box.

For a moment, Jared couldn't breathe, couldn't see around the rage that threatened to choke him. It wouldn't help Jensen, though.

Jared glanced up, not surprised to see Jensen looking at him. It reminded Jared nothing so much as the way Harley had looked at him when he'd gone to the shelter. Waiting to be kicked, or hit, but desperate for someone to love him.

So, instead of punching something like he wanted, he quietly got behind the wheel and headed towards the house. Jensen closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the seat, looking like he'd been gone a few years instead of less than a day. A warm bath and hot drink (heavily spiked) were definitely in order.

Getting Jensen up the stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge. He was shivering so much that Jared was almost afraid to let go. Instead, they stumbled up together, Jared carefully steering an supporiting Jensen. It was probably a testament to how miserable Jensen had to be that he didn't so much as protest the manhandling.

Finally, he got Jensen into the bathroom, started the water and began the task of wrestling Jensen out of his sodden clothes. Jensen blinked up at him, and for a minute it was like he'd never seen Jared before in his life. Then he shook himself and started trying to help Jared, fingers clumsy.

The quiet felt fragile and necessary, like Jensen would bolt or go off if Jared said anything. So Jared simply touched, stroking whatever skin he bared, trying to bring some warmth back. It wasn't long before Jensen's clothes were on the floor, but Jared kept running his fingers over Jensen's skin, tracing the path of freckles and scars.

Haltingly, Jensen reached out and laid his hand on Jared's chest. His eyes searched Jared's face.

Jared managed a smile. "Hey. I'm glad you're here."

Jensen let out a shuddery breath, the first break in his thin veneer of calm. His thumb rubbed slow, small circles; he watched his hand like it didn't belong to him. "I don't know what to do," he said finally.

If Jared hadn't spent a year in Jensen's back pocket, learning him inside and out, he wouldn't have understood that. But he had, and it was Jen. Jensen the control freak, Jensen who always had both hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. If Jensen was hurting, he retreated until he had a handle on things again.

Things changed.

Jared laid his hand over Jensen's, stilling it. When Jensen glanced up, Jared said, "Right now, you're going to soak. I'm going to get you a drink with hard liquor in it. When Jeff gets in, we'll have dinner. We'll go to bed. We'll make out, maybe. And then we'll sleep."

Jensen's mouth twisted bitterly. "It's not that easy--"

"It could be," Jared said. "If you let it. If you stop overthinking everything and stop fighting and let this just happen. It's okay. We're gonna be okay."

Jensen's eyes lowered for a moment, then lifted. "You're such a freak of nature, dude. No one should Pollyanna half as much as you do."

Grinning, Jared nudged him towards the tub. "Get in there. I don't want you out until you're a prune." When Jensen hesitated, Jared slid his hands down Jensen's cool skin, fingers curling around his hips and pulling him close. "It's okay, Jen. Just, let someone else be in control for a while."

With a nod, Jensen slid into the tub. When Jared started to leave, he reached out, fingers locking around Jared's wrist. "Could you-- stay," he finally said. "Please."

"Of course." Jared settled onto the tile next to the tub, reaching out to ruffle Jensen's soaked hair. "I'm sorry I didn't know you were out there. I think the speaker's out." Surprise flitted across Jensen's face, and Jared felt his stomach twist. "You thought I was leaving you out there?"

"You were pretty pissed," Jensen murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Jen... I wouldn't. I was angry, but you're my best friend, above and beyond this," Jared said, waving a hand to encompass the bedroom, the house, them. "I wouldn't shut you out."

"I tried to keep you out. When we first met. But you just kept pushing, and before I knew it, I was sprawled in Chad Michael Murray's house doing bong hits." Jensen shrugged, a crooked smile touching his lips. "I figured if you could be friends with a douche like him, I would be a cakewalk."

Jared laughed, flicking water at him. "You have been."

"Not lately," Jensen said, glancing down. "I've kind of sucked."

"Hey, you're entitled. It's been a shitty month." When Jensen didn't look at him, Jared slid his hand into the water and tapped his knee. "And it's cool. We're okay, man. I promise."

Meeting Jared's eyes, Jensen said, "I really want this to work. Us to work."

"Good. Me too. Now stop worrying, and let it." Leaning against the tub, Jared skimmed his hand from Jensen's knee to his thigh. Jensen drew in a breath, but shifted to give Jared better access. Jared's sleeve was getting wet, but damned if he minded. He smiled. "Getting warmer?"

Jensen narrowed his eyes. "Some."

"Glad to hear it." Lazily, Jared let his fingers drag down Jensen's leg, then up again. "I'm getting ideas."

"Really?" Jensen laid his head back on the tiles, exposing the line of his throat. "Do tell."

"Well," Jared said thoughtfully, as he ran his touch up the inside of Jensen's thighs, skimming higher, "I was thinking about jerking you off right here. Touching you until you shake and come all over my fingers."

Jensen 'hmm'ed, his eyes dark and hot on Jared's face. He twitched when Jared touched his hip. When Jared finally wrapped his fingers around Jensen's cock, already growing hard, Jensen shivered and closed his eyes.

"But you know," Jared murmured, "Jeff'll be home later, and he's going to want something, too."

Jensen shuddered. "Then you'd better stop before he doesn't get a damn thing."

"Well, that'd be a shame. C'mon, I think you're warm enough," Jared murmured, taking his hand back. "Let's get you dried off."

Jensen let Jared help him out of the tub, which Jared thought privately said a lot about how tired Jensen was. He toweled Jensen off gently, wrapping him snugly in Jeff's robe when he'd finished. "After we get you some food, I'll put your clothes in the dryer. They're all pretty soaked."

"Yeah." Jensen looked down. "Did you see the other box?"

"It kinda fell apart," Jared admitted. "I'm sorry, Jen."

"I'm not allowed to visit or call. They're afraid I'll molest my nephew. Or that my sin'll wipe off on them." Jensen laughed bitterly. "Dad hated that I came to LA. He said I was going to be exposed to 'those kind of people.' It's funny, I should have expected this reaction, but... I'm going to be one of those topics to avoid. Somebody who never existed."

"They're wrong." Tugging the tie of Jeff's bathrobe, Jared made Jensen look at him. "You're the best person I know."

"Ha. You need to keep better company." Jensen dragged a hand through his hair, restless. "What about Jeff?"

Yeah. That was a request to switch topics away from Jen's family if Jared ever saw one. "You're tied at best person," Jared said. "I'm afraid you're always gonna be neck and neck. Now, would you rather go to bed or come downstairs while I make dinner?"

"Dinner. Besides, I recall the promise of a stiff drink."

"Wait til Jeff gets home, and that won't be the only stiff-" Jared broke off as Jensen laughed.

"I'm counting on it," Jensen said, pressing closer against Jared, letting his hips rub against Jared's thigh. He tilted his head back, a quiet invitation.

Smiling, Jared bent, kissing Jen until he was breathless. "Welcome home," he whispered, and felt Jensen's lips curve against his own.