Chapter Text
“Goddamn son of a bitch!” Jensen Ackles shook his head as he looked at the soggy plasterboard that had detached from the ceiling of his living room. “Fucking house, if you were a horse I’d shoot you to put you out of your misery.”
Jensen had moved into the house his grandmother had left him a few weeks earlier in order to get the place in shape before the fall semester started at Northwestern. He had been invited by the university to teach a graduate level seminar on his current research project. He was surprised that the course had been blessed by the think tank he worked for in D.C., because the research was still considered cutting edge and promised to lessen or completely eradicate the United States’ dependence on fossil fuels. He was however, grateful for the chance to get away from the tank and from D.C. for the next year. Living in the capitol city was stressful enough and his job provided a shit ton of additional stress making him unable to relax enough to enjoy his life. He had been looking forward to the more relaxed atmosphere of the Midwest and as well as the free time that teaching just one class would provide. It was clear now that his free time would be quickly consumed by his home.
He had known that his grandmother had let a few things go in the last few years of her life, but hadn’t realized the extent of the neglect until he moved in. The traditionally designed arts and crafts house which sat on a fairly large piece of property south of the university, a couple of blocks from Lake Michigan, needed more than just a new roof. It seemed like there was at least one feature in every room that needed to be rehabbed or replaced in order to make the house sellable. A realtor that he’d spoken to told him that there would be plenty of interest in the property itself with people lining up to buy it in order to tear down the old house and build one of the small mansions that had been popping up in all of the older suburbs around Chicago, if he didn’t want to put the time and expense into renovating the old place. Jensen hadn’t yet made up his mind on how much he wanted to do to the house, but he hadn’t come to the Midwest with the idea of keeping it. For the time being though, he’d have to have the roof repaired before the entire thing came down and made his decision for him.
After cleaning up the mess in the living room he showered and headed to the quaint and hugely popular downtown Evanston area for coffee and breakfast. He’d stumbled on The Spot his first week in town when he was looking for a place for lunch and it soon became his favorite place to grab a coffee, beer or bite to eat. Its owners, Denise and her brother Jeff bought the restaurant, which had been in operation since before Evanston repealed its heavy handed liquor law, rehabbed the prohibition era bar and set the place up as a coffee shop/diner that also had a beer and wine license. In the couple of years they’d been open The Spot had become THE place for students at the university as well as the local residents to gather when they wanted a warm, casual environment for studying, dining or just hanging out.
Denise saw Jensen as he walked in and took a seat at the bar. It was hard not to notice the guy. He was tall, maybe 6’1” or 6’2” with broad shoulders which tapered to a narrow waist, short dark blonde hair, freckles and green eyes. The fact that he was freakishly smart and shy almost to the point of painful, was just gilding the lily. Today he looked like someone had kicked his dog and then held him up for his lunch money. “Penny for your thoughts,” Denise said as she poured his usual order of drip coffee, black.
“I’m afraid my thoughts are running closer to five figures today,” Jensen quipped as he sipped the scalding coffee and burned his tongue. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s wrong? Anything Jeff or I can help with?” Denise slid an éclair in front of the young man, “On the house. It’s our special Tuesday sucks deal,” she was satisfied with the snort of laughter the pastry provoked.
Jensen looked at the éclair and knew he should pass it up, but Tuesday did suck and a little sugar, fat and carbohydrates would kick up the level of endorphins in his brain and possibly help the day seem a little brighter. He took a bite, closed his eyes and almost moaned in pleasure as the custard filling and chocolate glaze hit his tongue. “Your brother is going to make me fat if he keeps turning out pastries this good.”
“Yeah, um no, I can’t really see that happening,” Denise smiled as the young man carefully wiped the extra chocolate from his lips. “So what’s going on?” she quickly asked before she could spend any more time thinking about those same lips.
After swallowing another bite of pastry and washing it down with some coffee, Jensen answered. “That damn house. I knew grandma had been having trouble keeping up with things but she was lucky it didn’t fall down around her ears. There are about a half dozen water spots, some old and some new, scattered throughout the house. I haven’t looked at the roof, but I’m sure nothing’s been repaired or replaced up there for years. If I’m going to live through the winter there, I need to at least get the house water tight and I’m fairly certain that means a repaired if not, new roof.”
“You still thinking you might want to rehab the whole thing?” Denise knew the perfect person for the job, but didn’t want to recommend him if Jensen was going to sell the place as a tear down. Jared would never agree to work on a place with that kind of history just to see it torn down.
“Not sure. I planned to get a couple of quotes and see what kind of money I’d have to come up with and then talk to Chuck, my realtor, and see if it would be worth updating the place. If I can’t break at least even on the investment it would probably be better to let it become someone else’s problem,” Jensen finished the pastry and licked the chocolate off of his fingers.
Denise cursed every god she could think of and a few her friend, a sci fi author had made up, that this gorgeous guy was as gay as her brother and therefore unavailable to her. Science geek that he was, he probably didn’t even realize what kind of reaction his innocent actions provoked. Jensen’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. “So, do you know anyone who does this kind of work? I know I can go online, but I’d prefer to talk to someone who comes recommended.”
“Yeah, actually, I do,” Denise refilled his coffee and cleared the plate and fork before continuing. “There’s the guy Jeff and I used when we rehabbed this place. He’s a carpenter by trade and does beautiful work. He redid the bar for us and all the built-ins are his work; he also functions as a general contractor for more extensive jobs.” She watched as Jensen took in the woodwork both custom and rehabbed.
“So, what’s his name and number? He is clearly a skilled craftsman.”
“Here’s the thing. He’ll take your job if you plan to rehab the place, but he won’t touch it if you’re going to sell it as a tear down. He loves these old places and believes the newer McMansions are abominations,” she had heard Padalecki’s opinions on that point more than once while he was working on their restaurant. He had no problem whatsoever telling people what he thought of the destruction of the individually crafted homes that had made up most of the North Shore until the last ten years or so. There was no way in hell she was sending him a client who would ultimately allow one of these older beauties to be destroyed.
Jensen sighed. “So then I’ll call him and get an estimate on the entire job and I’ll call someone else to quote what it would take to make the place habitable until next summer.” Jensen put his most eloquent puppy dog face on as he looked at Denise.
“Fine,” she responded, never able to deny anyone with those kind of puppy eyes a thing, “just don’t mention anything about a possible tear down when you’re talking to him. He’ll walk away from the job regardless of the money involved and I’d hear about it forever.”
“Thank you,” Jensen accepted the business card Denise had pulled from a drawer where she kept a number of cards for local businesses. “I’ll give him a call right away. I have to get someone working on the roof before I can even think of anything else and I’d like to get it done before school starts.” With that he left The Spot, unlocked his bike and headed back home to get to work on the jungle that some people liked to call a backyard.
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A few days later Jared Padalecki pulled up to an arts and crafts style bungalow that took his breath away. It was clear that the house still had most, if not all, of its original glass and that no one had ruined the home’s classic lines with any ugly additions. The landscaping was overgrown and hid some of the features, but that was an easy fix. He hoped that the guy who’d called him was serious about rehabbing the place and bringing it back to its former glory. He wanted to get his hands on this house in the worst way. A note on the door sent him around to the back yard to find the owner.
He let himself into the yard through a dilapidated gate, noticing that even the fence and yard needed extensive work. He heard singing and followed the sound around to the back. He stopped at the patio/pergola and sized up the guy singing. He had a decent voice and was on key, which was better than Jared could do and he was concentrating on the task of cleaning up one of the yard’s rose beds by tackling an overgrown climber.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” Jared said as he approached the other man.
Jensen, who was well into his own head jumped back, and stumbled over the edging of the flower bed, as a hand touched his upper arm, “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” He accepted a steadying hand and pulled out his earbuds as he turned to his visitor.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t see the earbuds and I thought you heard me walk up. I’m Jared Padalecki.”
“Jensen Ackles,” they shook hands and Jensen motioned toward the patio. “Let’s have a seat. Can I get you something to drink, water, soda, beer?” He reached into a cooler and pulled out a couple of waters, a soda and a beer.
“Water’s fine, thanks,” Jared studied the other man as he put the other drinks back and settled himself into a lawn chair. He wished he’d take the sunglasses off so he could see his eyes as they talked. Jared found he could tell a lot about a person by watching their expressions during conversation.
“Thanks for making time to come by so quickly, like I mentioned on the phone, the roof is my most critical issue right now, but this place needs quite a bit of work,” Jensen removed his glasses and hung them from his t-shirt and removed his hat to wipe his brow before continuing. “My grandma left me the place along with some money to fix it up, but I’m not certain how much I can afford to do right off the bat.”
“This is a great place. You don’t see too many of these bungalows that haven’t had multiple additions put on that ruin the classic lines imagined by the architect. Once you get her rehabbed and brought up to code you’ll have one of the nicer places on the North Shore. Your location is ideal.” Jared stood and stepped into the yard to look up at the house and stared to assess just what the exterior might need in addition to a new roof. He motioned his client to join him and pointed out a few of the features unique to the Arts and Crafts style as well as spots where some of the features had been removed or damaged.
Once they’d walked around the entire house Jared got a ladder from his truck and headed up to the roof to see whether they could just replace the missing and loose shingles or if any of the underlying structure needed replacement as well.
Jensen watched the contractor as he headed up the ladder. The guy was freaking hot; tall, well-built and seemingly intelligent with a smile that was almost blinding in its perfection. He hadn’t seen a ring, but knew that guys who worked with their hands didn’t always wear them when working. Even if he was single, there was no actual international sign for ‘hey, I’m gay are you?’ and contrary to what most of the straight population believed gays didn’t automatically recognize each other. Well, maybe some gay guys were better at reading a situation than others, but Jensen had never taken Gaydar 101 and still fumbled around trying to figure out who was or wasn’t playing for Team Homo. Maybe Denise or Jeff knew. He made a mental note to figure out a way to casually ask the next time he was at The Spot. As he watched Jared come back down the ladder he began to recite the periodic table of elements to get his mind off of his cock and back onto the business at hand.
“Like you thought, the roof is in bad shape. I think the majority of the underlayment is still usable, but there are a few spots that need to be replaced before you can re-shingle. Did you want to use asphalt shingles like are there now or did you want to do something more traditional, like cedar shake or metal?” Jared had accepted another bottle of water as the two men settled back on the patio to discuss the work that needed to be done to weather-proof the house.
“How much trouble would it be to quote a couple of options? I know I’ve got to get the roof done quickly, but it would help to see a couple of options along with the estimated life span of each so I can take the more traditional roofing styles into consideration,” Jensen set his water aside and grabbed a beer from the cooler offering one to Jared as well.
Jared opened his beer and took a swallow before speaking. “There’s nothing wrong with asphalt and there were homes built around this time that used them so it wouldn’t be anachronistic to go that route, but your place has a really great classic feel and the other materials would really enhance that. I’ll quote out all three options and email the numbers to you along with some photos so you can get an idea of what the end result would look like with each option. Separately, I’ll write up a quote on weather-proofing your windows. There are things that can be done to enhance the R-value of the windows without having to change out the original decorative glass. I’ll also provide a couple of options for a new front door. The one you have on the house needs replacement and there are some really nice reproductions available that will give your house back some of its original curb appeal as well as provide better insulation than what you currently have. Those three changes would weather proof the place and allow you to get started on the interior.”
Jared noticed the other man had gone quiet and just a little pale at the talk of the work that needed to be done. “The only thing that needs to be done immediately is the roof. The rest can be done piecemeal as you can afford it. There are very few people that have the means to redo one of these classic homes all at one go. Once I get you the numbers, we can meet again and talk about what you feel you can afford do at this time. There are also a few ways to help cut costs once we’re talking about some of the cosmetic stuff. If you’re willing to paint, you can save money there and refinishing floors isn’t all that complicated so you can provide some ‘sweat equity’ to help keep your cost down.”
“I knew this place would need work, but I hadn’t realized how little had gotten done in the last few years before my grandma passed away. That’s totally on me; I was always too busy to get out here and relied on my mom and sister to keep me updated. They apparently didn’t want to worry me,” Jensen smiled as he finished his beer and fished in the cooler for a couple more.
“So you’re not from around here?” Jared asked as he accepted the offered beer.
“No, my mom was born and raised here but moved to Texas after meeting and marrying my dad. She was an only child but has a couple of cousins in the area. My parents offered to move grandma down to Dallas to live with them, but she didn’t want to leave the home where she’d spent the majority of her life.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from Texas; I can’t hear any drawl at all. I’ve lived here my whole life and there are Padaleckis all over the city and suburbs. I sometimes feel like I can’t go anywhere in the city without running into some kind of twice removed relative.” Jared felt bad about the plight of the other man’s grandmother, but understood how hard it was to leave the Chicago area when it’s all someone knew. People who were born and raised in the city and surrounding area knew they had the best of both worlds and even with the unpredictable weather couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
Jensen laughed, “I can drawl when I want to and it does get more pronounced once I’ve had a few drinks, but I did my undergrad work at Cal Tech and then my graduate work at Virginia Tech so any accent I had growing up has been diluted by years away from my home state.”
“What did you study? What do you do?” Jared wanted to keep the conversation going since Jensen had a seriously sexy voice that he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of listening to.
“I have my PhD in chemistry and I work at a think tank in D.C. I’m here for the school year to do a graduate seminar on the research we’ve been doing on synthetic fuel. It’s more or less a year-long recruiting trip. The project could use new blood and the tank’s found these seminars a good way of getting the cream of the crop interested in our research,” Jensen watched Jared’s face carefully for signs of boredom. He knew his work was dry as hell and that most people tuned him out at the word chemistry. He was pleased to see the other man leaning forward as he considered his next question.
“So, if this is just temporary for you, will you be selling the house once it’s finished?” Jared worried at his bottom lip hoping to hell this guy wasn’t going to let this house be destroyed once he moved back to the East coast.
“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t think much beyond the opportunity to live here for the year and get the house cleaned up to sell. I’d visited as a kid, but didn’t really have an appreciation for the location, the size of the lot, the uniqueness of the house and the now neglected garden. I have a lot to think about before I can really come to any decision one way or the other.” Jensen prayed that he’d answered the questions well enough to keep this guy, Jared, interested in the project. Even if he was straight, Jensen could see becoming friends with the interesting young man. “So, are you still interested in the project?”
Jared had been running the other man’s words through his mind as he was speaking. It was understandable that coming in and finding the house in this shape would make it hard to make a firm commitment one way or the other, but he didn’t want to help someone fix the house only to see it destroyed. “Let me run the numbers for you and get you those photos. It’s a lot to take in at once and we can definitely take it one project at a time. I’ll be honest with you in return, I hate seeing these old beauties torn down to be replaced by cookie cutter mini-mansions with no heart or soul, but I will commit to getting this place weather proofed for you and we can talk about the rest at a later date. Will that work for you? I assume you’re getting a few quotes so you can take some time to get back to me, but keep in mind that the sooner we get your roof water tight the less that’ll have to be fixed on the interior.”
Jensen walked Jared around the house and back to his truck, “Give me a week or so to think about this and yes, get another quote or two and I’ll be in touch one way or the other. I really appreciate your time and the straight forward way you seem to manage your business. A chemist is all about concrete numbers and expected reactions so I like knowing up front what’s expected. We’ll talk soon.” They shook hands and Jensen watched as Jared pulled away from his house knowing he’d made his decision the minute the guy had put his hand on his arm.
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A couple weeks later Jensen found himself at loose ends on a Friday night. The roofing crew that Jared had sent out was doing a great job. They worked on the flashing and the gutters that day and promised to come back the next day to finish up. Jensen knew he’d owe Jared the second half of the cost once the crew finished and hoped he’d be out to check the job and collect the money himself. He’d been by a few times during the course of the work to see how it was progressing and to get Jensen’s thoughts on how he felt the work was going.
He enjoyed the other man’s visits and always offered him a beer or two as they talked about the progress the roofers were making. About halfway through the roofing job Jensen told Jared to go ahead and do what he needed to make the windows weather proof and to switch out the doors on the front as well as the back of the house. He also asked him to take care of some of the settling cracks in the otherwise solid foundation. The contracted work would just about wipe out the account that held the money his grandma had left to him for repairs on the house and he knew the bulk of the work still needed to be done on the interior.
He’d been at the university earlier in the day, setting up his office and planning his office hours as well creating an outline of what he wanted to cover in the nine weeks of the first quarter. So he just had to shower and shave before heading out to the bank to get a cashier’s check for the balance he owed Jared and then stop off at The Spot for a burger and a couple of beers.
Denise greeted him as he took his usual spot at the bar, “Hey Jensen! How’s the work going on the house?” She placed an open beer and a glass she knew he wouldn’t use in front of him.
“They’re finishing the roof tomorrow and the doors and windows will be done by mid-week. Just in time for school to start and the weather to turn nasty,” Jensen smirked a bit at the glass Denise always provided as he pushed it aside.
“You know it doesn’t get bad that quickly. How was that faculty coffee you went to on Tuesday? Meet anyone interesting?” Denise poured a couple of drinks for the others at the counter before returning to hear Jensen’s answer.
“The usual political bullshit, who’s made the short list for tenure, who doesn’t deserve tenure and yet has it and of course, most importantly, who’s sleeping with who. University faculty gossip almost as much, if not more than the students,” Jensen smiled as he thought about the pit of vipers he’d be working with and was glad he was contracted for just the one year. “There is more politics in academia than there is at the tank in D.C. and that’s really saying something.”
“So in other words, no one interesting…you want your usual? If not, Jeff’s got some really nice steaks. He’s pretty proud of the wine he’s got matched with them too. Oh, and chocolate mousse for dessert tonight,” Denise smiled at the look of near ecstasy that flashed in Jensen’s eyes. The man was a first class choco-holic.
“I thought I told you to not tell me those things! Yeah, I’ll have a steak, medium rare and whatever Jeff’s got matched with it. After I pay Padalecki tomorrow I won’t be able to afford to eat steak for a while.”
“Well, speak of the devil,” Denise murmured before heading to the kitchen to give her brother the order.
Jensen turned to see Jared enter the café with a small blonde girl on his arm and his heart sank. Even though he’d known the chances of the kid being gay and interested in an old scientist were low, he still felt a sense of loss at seeing him with a date.
“Hey, Jensen!” Jared approached with his hand extended and the two shook hands. “I’ll be by tomorrow to check the finished job. Are you planning to be around?”
“Yeah, I’ll be home, probably working in the garden. I’ve gotten the thing about half tamed and managed to get all the man-eating climbing roses cut down to size,” Jensen smiled at his friend and his date. “I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jensen Ackles,” he extended his hand to the girl who barely came up to Jared’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry. Jensen, this is Megan,” Jared didn’t fail to notice the quick flash of darkness in the other man’s eyes as he introduced his sister. He hadn’t planned to run into Jensen, but was pleased at the way things had worked out. He’d been talking to Megan non-stop about Jensen since he got the job and wanted her opinion on the guy. His sister was a good judge of character and while he was about 90% sure Jensen was gay, he wanted his sister’s opinion before he made an ass of himself and asked the guy out. “Are you alone? You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“No, thanks, I, um….no thanks,” Jensen blushed as he tripped over his words. “You guys have a nice dinner and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Jared Tristan!” Megan turned to Jensen, “please join us, I’m his sister. He’s told me you work at some think tank in D.C. and I’d love to hear about it.” Jensen choked on his beer and Jared turned nearly purple and was studying the tile on the floor as if he was going to be tested on it the next day. “Boys,” Megan rolled her eyes and asked Denise if they could take the table in the corner.
The next day, Jared pulled his truck into the driveway and studied the front of the house before unloading a ladder. He was pleased with the way the roof looked. Jensen had decided to go with the metal material and it highlighted the metal inset in the windows and the new door. The house was already looking much better. Once the cracks were repaired and he could get a painting crew out the exterior would just need to have the landscaping improved and she’d be back to her glory days, at least from the curb. He propped his ladder against the house before heading around the back to look for Jensen.
As usual, the older man was singing to music only he could hear through his earbuds and wrapped up in clearing a perennial bed of weeds while splitting some of the lilies and hostas in order to give them some root space. Jared approached slowly, giving Jensen time to realize someone else was in the yard before his shadow fell on the kneeling man. The younger man pushed his dirty thoughts aside but was having a lot of trouble not imagining Jensen on his knees with his lips wrapped around his cock. Recalling his sister’s outraged voice from the night before helped bring his thoughts back into control as he lightly touched Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen had known Jared was there as soon as his shadow hit the ground next to him, but kept working to see how the younger man would handle things. He was a little hurt by the kind of underhanded introduction to his sister the night before, but they’d all had a great time and Megan had hinted that Jared was interested in him but wasn’t sure it was reciprocated. She had rolled her eyes at them again as they both blushed and looked uncomfortable.
“Hey Jared,” Jensen rose from his knees and pulled his earbuds out while turning his iPod off. “What do you think of the roof?”
“It’s a little more important for me to know what you think, but it looks great. The metal was absolutely the best choice. Come around the front and see how she looks from the street, then I’ll head up to look at the roofers’ work a little more closely.” Jared followed his client through the gate to the street, admiring his ass the whole way. He recalled his sister’s voice a second time to get his mind off what he’d like to do to that ass and back on the job so that he could actually form sentences as they talked.
Back on the patio, with business concluded they both sat back nursing beers and saying very little. The silence wasn’t completely uncomfortable, but Jensen knew he’d need to speak soon or he was going to lose his chance. He wanted to invite Jared to come for dinner that night and if he didn’t ask soon the other man would leave. “God, I suck at this,” he thought as every bit of liquid, beer and spit, dried up in his mouth. “So, I had fun last night. Your sister is….”
“Nosey, bossy and a total brat?” Jared finished the sentence.
Jensen laughed, “Um…I was thinking opinionated, forthright and outgoing, but yours works too.”
“Despite what she made it seem like, I wasn’t really trying to play you. I….,” Jared sighed.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure about you either. So I guess we both skipped Gaydar 101 in undergrad,” Jensen held his beer bottle out and they toasted the sentiment with a touch of their bottles. “I did have a good time last night and if you don’t have plans tonight would love to cook for you. It’ll give us a chance to talk a little more privately without an opinionated little sister dominating the conversation. If you’ve got plans…..”
“No, I don’t and yes, that would be great. I do have a couple more jobs to check on and one to quote before I can call it a day. Would seven be too late to come by?” Jared was now looking directly at the other man and was thanking all his gods that he hadn’t fucked up too badly the previous night.
“Sure, seven’s fine. It’ll be fajitas, beer and tequila so pretty casual,” Jensen smiled at the dimples on his friend’s face and thought that just maybe he could do this and not act like a complete science nerd/dork who didn’t believe in things that he couldn’t quantify like friendship, attraction and love.
“I’d better get going and I’ll see you later.” Jared held his breath as he leaned down and brushed a quick kiss on the other man’s cheek before heading around the house to his truck.
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Jared got through his jobs for the day leaving enough time to stop at The Spot and ask Jeff what was the best tequila he could bring with him for his date that night. He went in through the kitchen entrance to try to avoid Denise and the thousand questions she’d have after last night.
“Finally! Denise has been driving me nuts about you two,” the older man smiled up at his friend as he answered his question. “Get Don Julio añejo. It’s smooth enough that you guys can sip or shoot it and not have it feel like battery acid in your gut. I’d call you two the lamest gay guys on the planet, but I’ve actually seen worse,” Jeff laughed.
“Gee, thanks Jeff, I guess….” Jared blushed.
“Jeffrey! Leave him alone. Not every gay guy likes to wear a rainbow shirt every time he leaves the house,” Denise reprimanded her younger brother. “Sometimes subtle is effective. Have a good time Jared and don’t let my brother’s comments make you feel uncomfortable, he’s an ass, a jealous ass.”
Jeffrey turned back to the stove as the other two laughed at his expense. His sister wasn’t wrong, he was jealous. He’d do either guy in a heartbeat but knew he was a little too old and maybe just a little too gay for either of the J’s. “Have fun Jared. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“He means nothing’s off limits,” Denise laughed at the stricken look on Jared’s face. “Don’t worry, we won’t ask for a blow by blow account….” Jared got even more red-faced and Denise added, “oops, no pun intended.”
Jared left his two friends laughing themselves silly and headed home to shower and change. He was going to have to find new friends if he screwed this up because those two would never let him forget it if Jensen turned tail and went back to D.C.
In the bungalow south of the downtown area, Jensen worked through his own dilemmas. Flowers on the table? Too gay, in fact, he decided that even setting the table might be too gay, but then second guessed himself since he wanted Jared to know he cared enough to make an effort. He finally decided to set the kitchen table with placemats, no flowers and bottles of various hot sauces for a center piece.
His next small crisis was what to wear and he used every swear word he’d ever learned in any language as he tried to convince himself that this meant nothing more than any other evening spent with any number of nameless, faceless guys in the past. He didn’t believe in love and didn’t even really believe in attraction. His relationships in the past had been carefully planned out with companions who had similar interests, similar jobs, similar family backgrounds and similar likes and dislikes in and out of the bedroom. In fact, asking someone out ended up having more in common with a contract negotiation than a request for a date, but it was how he was able to satisfy the scientist in him that he’d accounted for every contingency in the experiment he was conducting to prove his hypothesis that he and his date would get along and have a good time.
Jensen really didn’t understand why he felt sick as he tried on every shirt he owned a second time after settling on his favorite pair of jeans. He was a master of the short term relationship and even did pretty well with one night stands. The older man shook his head as if to clear it from any stray emotion that was trying to take root as he finally shrugged into a light blue, faded chambray shirt that reminded him a little of a security blanket. He saw Jared’s truck pull up from the window of his bedroom and quickly gathered up his other shirts and shoved them back into the closet, took one more look in the mirror and bounded down the stairs trying to still the butterflies battering his insides.
“So you’ve never been in love?” Jared couldn’t imagine a world without love and was surprised the man he saw as a warm and sensitive human being professed to not believe in love.
“I don’t believe in love,” Jensen shrugged and poured them each another finger of the really excellent tequila Jared had brought. “I mean, I love my family, but that’s more a habit than any kind of extreme emotional attachment. I’d miss them if they were gone, like I miss my grandma, but no, I’ve never been in love with anyone other than family.”
“How do you do that? Or, how do you not do that?” The young carpenter really liked Jensen had felt a strong attraction to him from the first moment they met. He’d professed to love a couple of his partners in the past, but couldn’t remember being as affected right of the bat as he was by Jensen.
They were sitting on the patio in a swing that was positioned to catch the breeze coming off the lake and the night was pleasantly cool with little trace of the humidity from earlier in the day. “It, love, just doesn’t make sense. Most emotions don’t, but some like sadness are more or less straight forward and it’s easy to figure out the situations that will cause someone to feel sad so is therefore quantifiable. Love on the other hand is capricious and unpredictable. There is no identifiable set of circumstances to predict when, where or with whom, love will strike. Even once someone’s experienced what they consider love, they often struggle and fail to be able to replicate the feeling again.”
“Not everything is explainable by math or science. There are things that have to be taken on faith,” Jared felt a twinge of pity as he reached out to touch the other man’s hand. “Do you not trust your instincts enough to take a risk on something that can’t be proven in a lab?”
Jensen knew that his view of emotions and love in particular, was pretty far off from what most people were comfortable believing and had struggled to explain this to others in the past. “It’s not that I don’t trust my instincts, it’s just that I don’t believe in love. Lust, sure; sex, hell yes; companionship, absolutely; comfort when necessary, no problem, love however just doesn’t make any sense.”
They sat in silence sipping at the tequila and looking up at the stars for a while before Jared reached over and gently turned Jensen’s head toward him so he could look into his eyes as he spoke. “I’m not sure if that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, or the smartest. You’ve obviously given this an awfully lot of thought and it wouldn’t be right of me to dismiss your theory out of hand, but I will tell you how I see it.
“I think that there is love all around us, it exists in everything that makes us smile or laugh. It exists in sadness and despair. It even exists in anger. The key to finding it is not to look with your eyes or with a set of equations and hypotheses, but to look with your heart and feel with your gut. You may not believe in it, but it’s there and if I give you nothing else, I hope that I can somehow show you how to reach for and find the love that is waiting for you.” Jared pressed his lips softly against the almost pretty mouth that had been haunting his dreams at night and his fantasies during the day. He kissed the other man softly, but fully, pressing small kisses along his lip line as he held his face with one hand and rested the other lightly on his shoulder. He felt the smaller man shiver and caught the smallest sound of want as he pulled gently at the full bottom lip before breaking the kiss and drawing back while stroking Jensen’s cheek with his thumb.
“And, now that I’ve made a complete ass out of myself, I guess I’d better get going. I would like to see you again if you can put up with my radical views on love and emotion,” Jared smiled wide enough to pop his dimples into high relief to let his date know he wasn’t make fun of his views, but wasn’t going to just accept them as his own either. “Do you think we can do this again?”
Jensen fought the urge to press into the hand still caressing his face and tried to dismiss the butterflies that had returned with a vengeance. “Yeah, I’d like that. I had fun tonight, even if you are a little deluded.”
“Good, I had fun too,” Jared kissed his way from the full lips, along the strong jaw to just under his date’s ear where he stopped and whispered, “and I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
TBC