![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
He'll Make Me Happy, CWrpf, JP/JDM, NC-17
Title: He'll Make Me Happy
Fandom: CWrpf
Pairing: JP/JDM
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: So much with the not knowing ANYONE.
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
caarirose's Jeff, Jared and Just About Anybody Else Challenge, because how could I resist Jeff, Jared, and the Muppets? *g*
Many, many thanks towithout_me, who never doesn't make time to wrangle my grammar and sort through my character motivations, and to maschalismos and beanside and nilchance and poisontaster, all of whom took the time to read a very early draft and cheerlead nonetheless.
Days go passing into years
Years go passing day by day
He'll Make Me Happy – The Muppets
It takes Jeff a while to decide to buy a place. No, that's not right--he makes the buying part of the decision in about ten seconds. What takes him a while is to trust that this life is still going to be there when he wakes up the next morning, that even if the calls and the scripts and the meetings go away--like they inevitably will--he won't be back to scrambling for the next month's rent or running through who might need an off-shift bartender so he doesn't end up in the back of his car or crashing on Ever's futon.
Once he gets past that, it's pretty easy. Rick knows someone who knows people in real estate and the next time he's in LA for more than a day or two, there's a list of properties they think would work for him. He drags himself out of bed and manages to get Bisou out for a run and himself into a shower before the Realtor, Estefania, shows up to start the process.
Even though another six hours of sleep would have been welcome, he has to admit it's goddamn fun to be walking in and out of houses the likes of which he'd made himself stop thinking about a decade ago. It's also so fucking crazy it's all he can do not to ditch the whole thing and go back to his bed and his dog who's perfectly happy with where they live now, except for the part where he's not around enough for her liking.
Estefania, who's no-doubt-about-it in charge of this mission, making sure he sees every last detail of every room, is most definitely on top of her game. After the fourth place, she detours through a handy Starbucks and loads Jeff up with a venti triple-shot. She smiles at him, like she didn't just administer a surgical strike, and takes out her leather portfolio to talk about what's coming next. Jeff's open to the possibilities, that's what he's said all along, but that's apparently not going to fly today, not with this tiny, perfectly dressed, terrifyingly organized woman who sees right through his best smile and keeps right on asking questions about how he lives, what he wants.
Ten minutes later, Starbucks' finest has kicked in, and Jeff's wired enough that the words are flying out of his mouth. Estefania's pen is flying across the heavy, cream-colored paper as she turns his random comments into an attack plan for the rest of the day, crossing out listings and adding notes while she makes calls and changes appointments around.
Four hours later, Jeff staggers back into his bedroom and face-plants on the unmade sheets. Bisou noses up under his hand, squirming until she's settled solid and warm against him. "Got it, sweetheart," Jeff mumbles, turning his head and rolling up enough that he can scratch behind her ears. "Got us a nice place, bar and kitchen for me, lots of grass and trees for you." There's more, a lot more--custom tile work and fireplaces and a master bath like something out of a fucking spa, but that's all secondary.
Bisou yawns and sighs, putting her head down and closing her eyes. Jeff has a dozen calls he needs to make, but that's too good of an invitation to pass up.
*
Spring 2006
According to Jared, Jeff's prize for the months of scheduling hell and never-ending flights between Vancouver and LA was to twist his schedule even further and be the guest of honor at the wrap party. Surveying the situation at the bar--already out of control and it was barely even nine--Jeff was fairly certain there was going to be police involvement at some point. But hell, what good was a party without a little noise? The Supernatural crew were clearly no slouches in matters such as this; they might only have been together a year, but they'd managed to hook up with the cast and crew from Smallville and Jeff could definitely see this night reaching legendary levels of insanity. Jared was right: Jeff was honored to be involved.
He was also tired enough to be glad to keep on the fringes, but he for damn sure wished he'd brought a camera. Blackmail material was falling left and right and it was just his luck not to be able to document it. Instead, he dropped a couple of bills on the bar to pay for the beer sliding his way and turned to touch bottles with Jensen.
"Good shoot," Jensen shouted over the music, and Jeff nodded in agreement. He could definitely drink to that. It had been a good episode, solid and sure, almost electric. He was always surprised how good it felt to slide into John Winchester's skin, how satisfying it was to really get into the character and cut loose.
"Thought you were more a bourbon kinda guy." Jensen leaned in close, nodding at the bottle Jeff still held.
"When in Rome," Jeff laughed, pointing to where Jared and Mike Rosenbaum were holding court, Jared lounging against the pool table, smiling at every young thing that crossed his path--and Jeff noted that they all were gravitating that way--never once lacking a bottle in his hand.
Jensen rolled his eyes. "Man, not you, too. 'Cause I'm telling you, my limit on getting drunk co-stars out of bars without fights or premature weddings is exactly one, and Jay's gunning to have his jersey retired."
Jensen was smiling when he said it, but Jeff could read the truth in his eyes.
"So long as everybody's having a good time," Jeff said. Across the room, Jared threw back his head and laughed as an over-enthusiastic fan in one of the shorter skirts Jeff had ever seen--and he'd been around for the original micro-mini--managed to get her legs wrapped around his waist.
"Dude, truer words. Truer words." Jensen finished off his beer. "I don't know how the hell he has the energy, but I'm not gonna complain, not when he keeps everybody going. It's like he broadcasts it or something."
Jeff nodded, watching thoughtfully as Mike peeled the young lady in question off Jared and sent her on her way. "Nice technique," he said.
"Mike is a man of many talents," Jensen agreed. "Still, I think it's time for me to pry Jared out of here so we have a hope in hell of making the flight tomorrow morning."
Jeff fell into step with Jensen. "LA?" he asked.
"Yeah, for a couple of days," Jensen said. "Time for a little change in scenery." He didn't say anything more, but Jeff could hear the underlying tension in not knowing what was happening with renewal.
"You ended it well," Jeff said. "Can't do anything more than that, and thinking you could have is a straight-on highway to the bad place."
Jensen nodded after a second, then caught Jared as Mike propelled him in their direction. Jeff stepped up and helped balance the load.
"Jeff! Hey!" Jared tipped left and draped himself across Jeff's back, all warm skin and hard muscles and big hands. Jeff staggered under the sudden weight. "Did you have fun at your party?"
Jeff reached up and patted the arm wrapped around his neck. "Not as much as you did, but I'm just fine."
"Awesome," Jared said, nodding more solemnly than Jeff would have thought possible. "You're a fun guy. You should be having fun."
Jeff fought to keep a straight face but lost it as soon as he snuck a look at Jensen, and then he was just happy they didn't actually drop Jared who, far from taking offense, was joining in with his own particular brand of lunacy.
"Good luck with the rest of Grey's," Jensen said, once they got Jared into his truck.
"See you next season," Jeff answered, and smacked the top of the truck. Jensen pulled out onto the street with Jared singing at the top of his lungs, and left Jeff to flag a cab to the airport and his hastily rearranged flight.
***
The house is new, mostly finished, and the builder is beyond happy to have a buyer for it, so it doesn't take long at all to work through the customizations Jeff--prompted by Estefania--decides on. He's not in before New Year's, but Ever says that just means he has to throw a hell of a housewarming party.
Jeff doesn't even bother trying to talk her out of it, simply texts her his schedule and credit card number and tells her to use her powers for good. He spares a thought for the new furniture--there's showing off the new house and then there's stupid--but figures there's not much use in worrying.
"Who the hell am I inviting to this thing, Jeffrey?" Ever has the uncanny ability to know exactly when Jeff's managed to fall asleep, and times her calls accordingly. Jeff would ignore her, but she'd only call back until he answers. Mary-Louise had fucking hated that, which Jeff's never mentioned, but is pretty sure Ever knows.
"Anyone you want, babe." Jeff rolls over and fumbles at the lamp next to the bed for a couple of seconds before he gives up and lets the room stay dark.
"Well, of course," Ever sighs. "I meant, who do you want to be there?"
"No," Jeff yawns. "What you meant was, have I gotten off my ass and started seeing anyone yet so you can scare the shit out of them at this shindig."
"Well, now that you've brought it up..."
"When the hell have I had time?"
"Please," Ever says. "Save the woe-is-me for someone who hasn't fucked her way through a bar with you."
"Seriously, Ev. Invite whoever you want to invite and let me sleep."
"My God, when did you turn into such an old man, Morgan?" Ever sounds ridiculously pleased at the thought, but since it's one more thing she can give him shit about, Jeff isn't surprised. "I'll be sure to make you up a gift basket of Geritol and Viagra."
"You do that," Jeff mumbles, rolling over and getting ready to hang up. "Oh, and Ev? Call the guys up in Vancouver."
He thinks he hears her ask, "Watchmen guys or Supernatural guys?" but he really is too fucking tired to deal. She'll call everyone and that's more than fine with him.
***
Spring 2008
The Sutton Place bar was a little too English-gentleman's-club for Jeff's taste--all dark wood and paneling and a fucking twelve-point buck over the fireplace, for God's sake--but it had convenience on its side. Plus, between Supernatural and Watchmen, Jeff had spent enough time there that he knew all the bartenders. More importantly, they knew him, and made a point to keep a stock of Hirsch's Reserve 16-year bourbon. It was his first--and for now, only--acknowledgment that he'd maybe made it out of the ranks of starving actors. Anything more was going to have to wait until he could catch his breath.
Right now, coming up with topics of conversation with somebody not in the business was about the limit of his brain power. The night had gone better than he'd have expected, but he had to give a lot of credit for that to Ever, who'd blown through on one of her crazy-ass whims. Jeff wasn't quite up to providing the level of distraction she needed from yet another jackass she'd let get too close--the Comedian was kicking his ass--but three days of watching him work had her all fired up, insisting that he needed to get the fuck out of the work/sleep/work rut and go be social and that she had just the person for him to call.
Jeff had growled and bitched, because the last thing he needed was a blind date--especially with someone she picked out, given her track record. Ever had rolled her eyes and asked in her sweetest voice, the one that only came out to administer the deadliest of bitchslaps, exactly how he thought he did any better, all without actually mentioning Mary-Louise or the damned ring. Jeff gave in after that, man enough to admit when he was beat. She'd made the call, set things up, and then blown back down to LA, threatening Jeff's life if he didn't immediately shave the mustache upon finishing pick-ups.
Jeff had thought about canceling, but finally decided she was right: he did need to get out of his rut. As usual, Ev knew his moods better than he did himself and Vic--the guy she'd set him up with--was pretty much on exactly the same page as Jeff, not looking for anything beyond a break in the routine. Dinner had been more than decent, the club Vic had suggested after had featured a much more than decent blues guitarist, and everything had gone well enough that Jeff had no problem extending the night for another drink or two--or longer, depending on how things turned out after those drinks.
Jeff--congenitally incapable of sitting still until he could catch a waiter's eye--was on his way up to the bar to fetch another round when he found himself shouldering past a familiar tall figure. He looked twice, but it was definitely Jared, looking like hell and deep in conversation with the manager. Gabe, behind the bar, had two fresh drinks waiting for Jeff, but when he turned around Vic was holding up his cell phone and pointing toward the lobby, so Jeff stayed where he was and waited for a break in Jared's conversation.
The longer Jeff watched, the less he liked what he was seeing. There was rundown by the grind of the season and then there was being flattened by it, and Jared was doing his best impression of a pancake, even with the strike having given him a couple of months off. Jeff bet the girls in make-up were having fits trying to cover the circles under Jared's eyes. Jared finally finished his conversation--which made no sense from what Jeff could hear, the manager promising to let Jared know as soon as they had a room ready before he moved off with a quick handshake--and looked up, right at Jeff. It didn't do anything to ease Jeff's mind that it took Jared more than a couple of seconds to really see Jeff, but he plastered a smile on his face anyway.
"Dude." Jared's voice was almost as rough as the rest of him. "Jensen said you were gonna be back up here doing pick-ups, but I totally forgot."
"I'd be offended," Jeff said, "if you didn't look far enough out of it that I'd put money down on you walking right past your mother and not seeing her." Jared laughed, a little self-consciously and not nearly up to his usual standard, and his hug was pretty much the same pale imitation of the real thing, but Jeff was taking anything positive he could get and he could tell Jared was making the effort for him. "Last I heard, you and the kids were this place's favorite guests. What're you doing down here at one in the morning begging for a room?"
"Yeah," Jared sighed. "Still that, I hope, but I've been gone for a week and they weren't expecting me back until tomorrow, and there's something about them doing maintenance upgrades, so I guess there's plumbing stuff all over the floor..."
Jeff didn't say anything, but Jared must have seen the surprise in his eyes. Supernatural had to be filming as close to nonstop as humanly possible, trying to make up for lost time, and he'd never known Jared or Jensen to miss an episode. Film promo, broken wrists... it didn't matter, they were always there.
"I know." Jared shrugged, a curiously defeated gesture. "I just... a friend ODed a couple of weeks ago and--they got him to the hospital and all, but he's..." Jared rubbed hard at the base of his skull. "He's in rehab and he... "
"It's okay," Jeff said, quietly. "It's rough on everyone when something like that happens."
"He asked me to sit with him, had this list of shit he wanted to apologize for, and, fuck, Jeff, none of it was any big deal, not like how I fucking ignored all the crap that should have tipped me off that there was something wrong."
"Jay--"
"No, seriously," Jared said, low and furious. "It was fucking textbook, and I just sat there like it was nothing but going out, having fun. Hell, I drove most nights, and he almost died."
"Jared." Jeff got right up into Jared's personal space, grabbed on hard to his upper arms, so he couldn't look away, couldn't pretend not to hear. "There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. You hear me? Even if you sat right there next to him and watched every fucking thing he drank or smoked or snorted, he would have found a way around it." He took a deep breath and tried to bring the intensity back down a little, because flashbacks to sitting in hospitals and funeral homes and hating himself weren't helping the here and now. "Now that you know, you can help however he asks, but it's still not on you."
"Yeah," Jared said, going limp under Jeff's hands. "That's what they were saying, at the center, but--"
"No buts." Jeff shook his head. "I mean it."
"I'll try," Jared said, after a long couple of seconds. Jeff let him go after a couple more, and he rubbed his hand across his face. "At least we're back shooting."
"Yeah," Jeff said. "Distractions are good."
Jared nodded. "Oh, hey," he said, noticing the two glasses of bourbon next to Jeff's elbow. "I'm sorry--I didn't mean to drag you into this whole thing. I mean, thanks, but don't let me keep you from the rest of your night."
Jeff hesitated for a second, glancing at the door right in time to see Vic walking back in. "You sure?"
"I'm sure."
He sounded like he meant it, and after another moment's thought Jeff decided to leave it where it was. "Okay," he said, picking up the glasses. "Take care of yourself, man. Say hey to Jen for me, and those monsters of yours."
Vic met Jeff halfway to the table, taking the glass Jeff held out. "Something you need to take care of?" Vic asked, nodding toward Jared.
Jeff shook his head. "No. I can't do anything for him." Vic nodded, but didn't say anything, which Jeff appreciated. "I've got a bottle of this upstairs, though."
"Yeah." Vic nodded, holding Jeff's eyes easily. "We could do that."
Jeff drained his glass--it was practically criminal to gulp something that good, but there definitely was more upstairs and maybe Ever had been even more right than he'd realized. He left a twenty on the table and showed Vic the way to the elevators.
***
As usual, Ever throws a hell of a party. She's there before Jeff even wakes up, staking claim to one of the guest suites, and declaring the study as her command center. The caterers arrive at noon to start setting up, only they're more event planners than people wrangling food, and Jeff has an hour or so of pure panic that they're going to create a theme and turn him into a walking, talking, just-hit-it-big-let-me-show-you-how-hard-I-can-try-to-be-trendy caricature. He hovers, much to Ever's sarcastic delight, but all they do is pack away anything that's breakable and manhandle the furniture around so there's better "flow." At that point, since he's clearly superfluous, Jeff leaves Ever in deep discussion about how many bars they're going to need to take Bisou and hide in the master suite.
When he comes out, showered and changed, there are a couple of low-key flower arrangements scattered around, and a sushi chef out by the pool, but otherwise the house still looks familiar. Zach shows up with his crew, and Jeremy not long after, which means the party is official even if nobody else comes. More people keep trickling in, though, and Jeff keeps busy for a while, talking and making introductions.
He finds Ever in the kitchen a while later, perched on the granite-topped island with a pitcher of martinis at her side and a rapt audience hanging on every word. He slides up next to her and eases an arm around her waist. "Can I get a word or two with the lady in charge?"
"Having fun, love?" Ever asks, grinning that familiar, wicked grin and leaning even closer to whisper, "Don't lie to me; I know exactly how good Jeremy's party favors are."
"Me? Lie to you?" Jeff feigns shock. "Only when it's a matter of life and death."
"Which, strangely enough, happens so often I've lost count." Ever pecks him on the cheek, then scrubs at the smear of lipstick, frowning until she gets him cleaned up. "All right, enough of that; you wanted words?"
Jeff shakes his head and decides it's not worth the trouble to get her somewhere semi-private. "I'm trusting that I'll eventually recognize more than one in three people who're coming through my front door."
"Of course, love." Ever offers him her martini glass, eying him with that mocking glint until he downs it, and then laughing her quiet, private laugh when he coughs through the burn of what might as well be straight gin. It's not a surprise--her martinis have always consisted of a pitcher of gin and a shot glass of vermouth--but it's still enough to take the skin off his throat. He'd asked her once why she even bothered with the mix, and had gotten an unexpectedly serious answer involving her active dislike of vermouth having to be balanced against the family history that said the serious alcoholics drank their gin neat. He's pretty sure that was when she shifted from being the California party girl with the charmed life to the real woman who's still one of the reasons he's more-or-less sane after way too many years in the business. "Think of everyone here so far as friends you haven't spent much time with. What else are parties for?"
"Got it," Jeff says. "Which brings me to my second point." He refills the glass and hands it back to her, leaning close to murmur, "Why the hell are there no charges on my card for any of this?"
"Because I didn't use your card." Ever leans back, raising her hand to cut him off the second he opens his mouth. "Don't be an idiot, Jeff. You wouldn't have shown up if I'd told you I was throwing you a party, so shut it and fucking well have a good time, okay?"
She looks Jeff dead in the eyes, no playing, no BS, until he sighs and nods. "Excellent, and look, perfect timing." She points out toward the pool. "Two out of two that you know."
Jeff obediently looks where she's pointing and sees the Js getting pulled right in to where Jeremy and Zach and crew are settled in for the long haul, a couple of bottles and a baggie or two already gone and more on the table for the rest of the night.
"Go," Ever says, making shooing motions. "See your boys. Show off your new house, God knows you've been working your ass off for it long enough." Jeff starts out the door to join them, then stops, struck by a semi-scary thought.
"Hey, Ev? You, uh, did think to get a lifeguard, right?" There's not a doubt in his mind that somebody's going to end up in the pool; he'd like it a lot if nobody drowned tonight.
Ever cracks up, one long peal of laughter that has everyone around her grinning. "Two shifts, love. I know my guys and all of you are dumber than dirt when you're having a good time."
***
Fall 2008
For a couple of minutes at the beginning of ComiCon, Jeff held on to the idea that he could link up with whoever Eric was bringing down from Supernatural. He was there, they were there, it didn't seem all that crazy. Of course, then the whole weekend turned into such a fucking roller coaster ride he couldn't figure out where anyone was, not even with the nonstop texting he and Jensen were doing. Hell, he couldn't figure out where he was most of the time. He thought he caught a glimpse of Jared at one point--even in that mob, Sasquatch stood out--but given how his head was spinning he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd seen his long-dead Nana in the crowd.
There was no question at the Scream Awards, though. Jared fucking tackled him on the red carpet--just saw Jeff talking to some fans and had the car he was riding in stop so he could throw himself on top of Jeff. There was a split-second when Jeff had no idea what had hit him, but he managed to recognize Jared's voice crowing above him before he actually threw a punch.
"No problem, no problem." Jeff heaved Jared off of him and waved at the security guys who were converging from both sides. "Nobody but my crazy-ass lunatic of an ex-costar."
"Gotcha, Dad." Jared grinned and raised his arms in victory and raced back to his car. "Winner and still champion!"
Jeff shook his head and shrugged at the semi-shellshocked fans on the other side of the fence. "Never a dull minute with that one."
He got a little of his own back later--his ambush was tamer, but actually in the middle of an interview Jared was giving, so that was worth a few more points. Jared, of course, managed to get in a shot of his own, calling Jeff his boyfriend on camera, which definitely floored the woman conducting the interview. The PR flack from Warner Brothers didn't look happy with Jeff's departure from the almighty Schedule, but Jeff was a good boy after that and smiled and talked to anyone and everyone they shoved him at. God knew he was more than happy to be doing it, to have something worth doing it for, but that didn't mean it wasn't exhausting in its own way and that he wasn't stupidly grateful to look up from the last reporter and see Jared standing a little ways off, four beers dangling between his fingers, two of which he held out for Jeff.
"Goddamn, that's good," Jeff said, draining the first one in a single go. Jared nodded and finished off his own, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "You're a mindreader, Jay."
"Nah," Jared laughed. "I just always talk too much when I have to do one of these things and--"
"Imagine that," Jeff interrupted.
Jared flipped him off amiably. "Yeah, whatever--you looked like you were in the same shape, so I figured you could use a couple, too."
Jeff tapped his bottle against Jared's and got started on the second one. There was a potted tree behind them, big enough to give the feel of huddling in a corner, away from the crowd. It was a nice break, but it wasn't going to last; Jeff figured he'd enjoy it while he could. He heard fairly regularly from Jensen--texts and amused responses to Jeff's own pornographic emails--so he was mostly up on everything happening in Vancouver, but it was always good to get the details in person, especially when that meant he got to watch Jared at his most animated, arms flailing and hair flying in his enthusiastic recap of Round Three-million-and-something of the never-ending prank wars that still raged through the set.
"I think they finally got smart and stuck a standard clause into all the directors' contracts, so they know what they're getting into," Jared said. "We haven't had anyone pitch a fit this season, and trust me, we have not backed off, not even a little bit."
"Let me guess--the guest stars are on still their own, though," Jeff said.
"Awww, it's okay, Jeff. We still haven't gotten anybody quite as good as we got you."
"I'm honored," Jeff said. Jared laughed and bumped shoulders with him, and Jeff couldn't help adding, "You look good, Jay. About a thousand times better than the last time I saw you."
"Yeah, that was... It really wasn't a good time." Jared sobered up fast.
"It never is." Jeff's fingers itched for a cigarette.
"I never... I should have called or emailed or something, but, y'know, thanks." Jared shrugged. "For letting me fall apart on you."
"Not a problem, man," Jeff said. "I've been there." Jared nodded, but didn't say anything. Jeff wanted to ask how things were going, but that kind of situation didn't always turn out well, so he searched for a new topic instead. "Jen says the two of you playing roommates is going good." It wasn't the smoothest transition in the world, but at least it was something.
"Yeah, it's been awesome." Jared's smile was a little slow, but pure and genuine. "We had to declare the house a no-fly zone, otherwise I'd be afraid to sleep in my own bed. You know Jen'd be all in stealth mode, have some nasty shit ready to go off in the middle of the night, just so he could watch me have a heart attack."
"Or get pictures," Jeff said, grinning back.
"Video," Jared snorted. "But, yeah, I'm glad I talked the dork into moving in and y'know, buying a bed." He finished his second beer and set the bottle down behind the little tree. "It's not--I thought I was buying it, the house, for... a different reason, but it's good to be there. The dogs, and Jensen, and all. It's a weird little family, I guess, but it's working."
"It's been a hell of a year," Jeff said.
"Yeah," Jared sighed. "I'm trying to, y'know, think about shit these days, not just go headfirst into whatever somebody waves in front of me. I guess, seeing people I know, people I care about having to start all over again--maybe that helped get it through my thick skull, just how lucky I've been."
"Sitting around in visiting rooms will do that for you," Jeff said. "Sometimes. Sometimes, it takes more of a wake-up call, so don't sell yourself too short." Jared shrugged; Jeff smacked him on the back of head. "For real."
"Yeah, okay," Jared finally said.
"Like I said, a hell of a year."
"I, uh, I'm sorry your stuff didn't work out." Jared shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. "I mean, this is all pretty awesome, the movies and all, but the other stuff..."
Jeff shrugged, and finished the rest of his own beer. "Took me too damn long to figure out I was beating my head against a wall. Hell, I even went back for a second round, for fun, I guess, but that's pretty much the story of my life, so..." He looked at Jared. "Sorry about yours, too."
A photographer came up right then, motioning them together to get a couple of shots, the PR team from Warner Brothers right behind her, and the little bit of stolen time was up. Jared put his arm around Jeff's shoulders and hauled him in close.
"Boyfriends, remember?" Jared said, just as the first flash went off, so both of them were grinning like idiots for the camera.
***
Jensen's brought his girl, who Jeff's been hearing about for a while and is more than happy to finally meet, but Jared's still flying solo. Once Jeff figures out Danneel can handle his moronic friends without breaking a sweat, he relaxes a little and lets Zach include him in the happy round-robin of tequila and weed. He ends up with Jared on his left, Zach and Jeremy across the table, Jensen and Danneel sitting on the edge of the pool and Ever cruising in and out. Bisou has Jared's number without even having to work the recovering-from-surgery angle; Jeff should probably cut Jared and the nonstop food delivery service off, but every time he tries, Jared fucking gives him the puppy-eyes and Bisou whuffles and puts her head in Jared's lap and hell, Jeff's only human.
He knows he's more than a little fucked up, but the whole night is just nice.
"Oh, hey," Jared says, leaning back and groping around along the edge of the wall, coming up with a brown paper bag that's unmistakably holding a bottle. "This is for you."
"Jay," Jensen sighs. "Classy. Does it get any more redneck than a bottle in a paper bag?"
"Well, yeah," Jared answers, unperturbed. "But you'd probably have a stroke, so I didn't go there."
"That's our boy," Jeff says, taking the bag. "Always looking out for his fellow man." Jensen snorts and Jared grins and nothing ever changes with those two, Jeff thinks, a rare good thing in a business that likes to grind people down. He slides the bottle out and whistles, long and low, because there really aren't that many bottles of this stuff around.
"I figured you were the only person I knew who'd appreciate it," Jared says. He's sprawled back in the deck chair, all long legs and that easy grace Jeff's always noticed, but there's an edge there that Jeff can't quite figure out, small enough that he'd think he was imagining things, except Jensen's watching everything a little more closely than Jeff would have expected.
"Might have to work up to appreciating it, but damn, that'll be one fine education." Jeff checks out the label again and then looks up at Jared and grins. "I know you're supposed to open gift bottles right away, but no way in hell am I wasting this on these cretins." He gets a full complement of raised middle fingers and the expected round of insults--nothing much changes between Zach and Jeremy and him, either--but once all the crap dies down, he leans closer to Jared. "Seriously, Jay--where the hell did you find this--"
"McNaughty!"
There's only one person Jeff knows who can project her voice like that, loud enough to knock a grown man flat if she wants. Jeff shouldn't be surprised to see her standing at the French doors, hands on her hips and a wicked grin on her face; he knows Ever better than that. "Ramirez," he yells back. "Get your ass over here, woman."
Jared folds his legs up quick, and Jeff manages to get out from behind the table without falling flat on his face, or kicking his dog, or dropping anything that might set the place on fire. Katie's there behind Sara, so there's a round of hugging and ass-slapping and by the time Jeff extricates himself from that--not that he's really trying all that hard--Ever's directing a mariachi band out onto the deck and everything's really kicking into high gear.
"Dear lord," Ever says, coming up next to Jeff and watching with horrified fascination as Jared drags Danneel away from where she's sitting with Jensen and spins her out in some whacked-out variation on dancing. "That's... I actually don't know what that is."
"It's Jared," Jeff says, but then Sara grabs him and since she actually can dance, he does his best to keep up. It's hopeless, though, so after a few minutes he snags Danneel, who's helpless with laughter, and they make their escape, leaving Jared to do his thing with Sara.
"Oh, yeah." Jensen has his phone out, getting everything on video. "This is gonna be great the next time we're stuck in the middle of nowhere. Fun for the whole crew."
"Or you could go the blackmail route and see what you could get him to do to keep it under wraps."
"I dunno," Jensen says, eying the screen critically. "A month's worth of free laundry, or making sure everyone on location gets to mock Sasquatch...?"
"Mocking." Jeff grins at Jensen. "Definitely mocking."
"It's the gift that keeps on giving," Jensen agrees.
Jared finishes with a flourish and a bow to Sara, and drops back down in the chair, laughing and flipping Jensen off, double-fisted. Bisou barks once and noses her head up under Jared's hand, with an expression that says she's been waiting patiently, but it's time for the nonsense to be over. Jared takes the hint and scratches behind her ears with one hand and reaches the other out for the beer he abandoned, tilting it up and drinking in one long swallow, the line of his throat clean and pure in the low lights from the pool and landscaping.
"Your girl's always sweet," Sara says, breathless and laughing, hanging onto Jeff's arm and pointing to Bisou. "But she usually doesn't have eyes for anybody but you."
"Jared's good people," Jeff says.
"Oh, he's good something," Sara answers, giving Jeff a quick kiss and wandering off in search of Ever and her bottomless pitcher of martinis. Jeff grabs one last hit off Zach and then heads back into the house to see if he can maybe act like the guy who's hosting the party, even if he has no idea what else Ever has up her sleeve. It takes him what seems like an hour to get through everyone who's packed into the kitchen, and then another one to make it to the front door, and the same to make the loop backwards.
By the time he gets back outside, there's another dead soldier on the table--tequila, this time--and people have definitely been in the pool, but things are mellowing. Bisou gets up from where she's sprawled out on Jared's feet and comes to meet Jeff.
"Hey, sweetheart," Jeff says, bending down to run his fingers through the fur on the scruff of her neck. "Jared finally stop feeding you?"
"She liked the shrimp things. I mean, she didn't turn anything down, but those were definitely her favorite." Jared stands up and stretches. "But damn, I'm glad I can finally move."
"Dude, you spoil her worse than I do." Jeff tries not to laugh at Jared's shuffle-steps as he works the blood back into his feet. "I know she's killer with the big eyes, but you could have shifted her off you."
"Nah," Jared says. "It's not a big deal."
Bisou trots on ahead, looking back occasionally to make sure they're following, heading straight for the corner where Jeff keeps her bowls, for all the world like she hasn't just scarfed down a couple hundred dollars worth of raw fish already. She's not happy to discover that Jeff moved her dining room, but she follows him down the hall to the study. Jared stays with them, getting the minor tour of the place.
"Jensen said she had to have surgery." Jared leans against the door and watches while Jeff moves the bowls out from under the desk.
"It was..." Jeff starts to get into all the details, but Jared's watching them with serious eyes and Jeff knows he gets it. He pets Bisou instead, letting her snuggle up next to him. "They thought she might lose a leg," he says, and knows Jared understands that, too, how close to being a reality all of that was.
Jared crosses the room in two long strides and crouches down next to Bisou. "But she's good now, right?"
"Yeah." Jeff takes his hand and shows him where the scar is. "She's fine. I need a shot every time I think about it, but she's doin' great."
Jared traces the whole length of the ugly scar, his touch so light Bisou barely notices. He croons to her, tells her what a good girl she is, brave and strong. It's quiet in the study, the noise from the rest of the house muted by distance, and Jeff loses track of how long they sit there, the three of them. It's another stolen moment, like the one at the Scream Awards, and it's not until Jared laughs quietly that Jeff realizes he said that out loud. He's starts to apologize, put it down to too much going on, too much tequila and weed, but Jared waves him off.
"It's okay," Jared says, his grin fading into something that's quieter, far less joking. "I--It'd be okay with me if it was longer."
Jeff almost misses it; if Jared had smiled, Jeff would have let it slide as him reading things into innocent comments. But Jared's eyes are dark and serious and he doesn't look away from Jeff, doesn't laugh and shrug. Jeff's not sure that he's even breathing.
"Yeah?" Jeff asks, and Jared nods once.
Jeff thinks he should be a little more surprised at how right it feels, but apparently, while he's been in one of his more oblivious states, his subconscious is right with the program. Jared's watching him with a little hint of nerves behind the surface calm, and Jeff can't help teasing him, just a little. "I dunno, Jay... you flirting with me?"
Jared's head jerks up at that, but then his mouth quirks into a half smile. "Yeah, well, you know. I flirt with everyone. But you... you make it damn hard, Jeff."
The silence stretches out between them. Jeff doesn't think Jared actually knows how right he is, about everything. It's simple enough to fix it for here and now, though.
"What if we make it so I'm not making it hard," Jeff says, his voice low and rough, catching on something he hasn't felt in a long time. "What then?"
"Then..." Jared breathes. "Then I tell you that I've been spending some quality time with your guys outside, and I'm a little fucked up, so this seems like a really good idea right now..." He leans forward and fits his hand to the curve of Jeff's jaw and then his mouth is on Jeff's, sweet and strong. He kisses Jeff like they have all the time in the world, shifting closer when Jeff starts kissing him back, moaning low in his throat when Jeff gets his own hands in Jared's hair and doesn't let him go.
There's a crash somewhere in the distance, definitely glass; only dishes and cutlery, Jeff hopes, and not a window or mirror, but whatever it is, it's enough to remind him how not in private they are. It's still damn hard to make himself ease back; he ends up keeping one hand tangled in Jared's hair.
Jared stares at him, as breathless as Jeff feels, and when Jeff slides his hand down, along and under Jared's jaw, he can feel Jared's pulse, jackrabbit fast against Jeff's thumb.
"You think it's still gonna seem like a good idea later, when you're not fucked up?" Jeff almost doesn't want to ask, in case Jared's having second thoughts, but Jared only nods.
"Yeah," he says. "You--this isn't me drunk and stupid." He grins, adding, "Well, yeah, drunk and I'm probably always stupid, but you knew that going in."
"I did," Jeff agrees, giving up and leaning in for more. He keeps it quick, though--or tries to, ending up talking against Jared's mouth. "Stick around, okay? This is--" He trades a couple of words for another taste, another lick, another not-quite-gentle bite. "Don't want to rush this."
"Yeah, okay," Jared says, smiling like Jeff's handed him the keys to a Porsche. Or maybe that's how he's smiling himself, Jeff thinks, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the far wall. Either way, he's cutting himself off for the rest of the night.
***
It's long past four, inching on toward five before everything winds down, the only ones left those Jeff knows will sleep where they fall. He wanders back through the house, still in some kind of zone where he knows he should be falling over from how tired he is, but not wanting to let go of the night.
He finds Jared in the study, crashed out flat on his back on the big leather sofa. Jeff hesitates at the door, but Bisou pads into the room to lick at Jared's hand where it's fallen to the floor.
"Hey," Jared says, yawning and hauling himself up to a sitting position, stretching big enough that Jeff catches more than one tantalizing glimpse of skin. "Sorry. I hit the wall around three."
"Jay--" Jeff says, fully intending to let Jared off the hook if he needs to, but Jared doesn't even let him get started.
"I've been attracted to you since the first time we met," Jared says, quietly. "We were both in different places and it was--I haven't been dying over here or anything. Just, y'know, I always knew when you were around."
"Yeah," Jeff murmurs, and Jared smiles a little.
"And," he says, taking a deep breath. "I mean, that wasn't the smoothest I've ever been, earlier, but it wasn't because I hadn't thought about it. A lot. Like, Jensen's probably ready to smother me in my sleep, he's so tired of hearing me think about it. It's my theme this year, or something. But, yeah, I still think it was a really good idea, even if I was pretty fucked up at the time."
"C'mere," Jeff says, settling himself against the wall, letting his eyes slide slow and easy over Jared as he crosses the room, gray t-shirt and black jeans that Jeff's hands itch to peel off him. "Closer." He hooks his fingers through Jared's belt loops, rests both thumbs against the smooth, warm skin along the edge of the waistband. "Yeah, like that." He leans up to brush his mouth over Jared's, one quick, soft taste, and then another. "I still don't want to rush this."
"Okay," Jared whispers, all but vibrating against Jeff. He braces both hands against the wall, bracketing Jeff, and then kisses him, careful and deliberate, warm, eager mouth and the slightest scrape of teeth. Jeff slides his hands up under the soft cotton of Jared's shirt; spreads his fingers wide, greedy to feel as much of Jared as he can. Jared whines into the kiss, which is almost more than Jeff can take, good intentions be damned. It's a game then, to see what other noises he can coax out of Jared, a game that's going to have a fucking awesome payoff, given how Jared's shifting against him, little twists of his hips, a promise and a tease of everything to come.
Bisou sighs, a long, tired sound; when Jeff finally can look past Jared, she's up on the sofa, curled where the heat from Jared's body probably still lingers. She blinks at him once, then lays her head down and sighs again, and Jeff gets the message loud and clear.
"I guess we're boring her, huh?" Jared smiles, only a hint of dimples, but real and sweet.
"The royal we has spoken," Jeff says. He drops his hands down, makes them move away from Jared's skin, and and then doesn't bother pretending there's not a surge of mineminemine when Jared makes a small, disappointed sound. "Come on." His fingers find Jared's belt loops again; Jared moves willingly enough, but Jeff doesn't let go, not until they're through the house and up the long, curving staircase in the front hall, the one he still hasn't quite wrapped his brain around being his.
There's a lamp on in his bedroom, a low warm light that throws highlights on Jared's skin as he pulls his shirt up and over his head. Jeff steps up close and puts his hands back on Jared, watching as well as feeling this time. He steers Jared toward the bed, backing him step by step.
"No," Jeff murmurs, as Jared starts working on the button on his jeans. "That's all mine."
Jared nods, dropping his hands and shivering as Jeff dips his fingers under the denim. He slides the buttons open one by one, and groans as he realizes it's only the jeans, nothing under them but skin.
"Oh, baby," Jeff growls, trailing the backs of his fingers along the length of Jared's dick. "Such a dirty boy you are."
He wouldn't be surprised to see a smirk on Jared's face, a score one for me, but when he can tear his eyes away from how the open jeans frame Jared's cock, Jared's eyes are closed and he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Want you so bad," Jared whispers, dropping his head back, long, sweet throat begging for Jeff's mouth.
"You got me, baby," Jeff promises, giving in and biting down hard under the curve of Jared's jaw, licking and sucking over the bite marks before doing it again, and again, Jared whimpering and shaking against him. Jeff stays with-it enough to get them both onto the bed, Jared spread out under him, and then sits back on his heels to look, because God, that's almost enough to make him lose his mind right there.
"Fuck, Jeff," Jared begs, hips arching off the bed. "Fuck, touch me, please."
"Shhh," Jeff soothes, stroking down the center of Jared's chest, breastbone to navel, strong, sculpted muscle, lean and tan. "So much I want to do to you." He flicks his nails across Jared's nipples, watching with an aching pleasure as they harden, teasing them until Jared begs him again. Jeff bends down and licks over the same skin, sucks each nipple carefully, and when Jared's voice goes hoarse and wrecked, Jeff can't help biting there, too.
"Oh, god," Jared babbles. "God, Jeff, fuck." He tears at Jeff's jeans, clumsy and shaking but determined, finally just shoving his hand inside, rubbing down over Jeff's dick, palming it, grinding up with his own hips. Jeff groans and pushes into Jared's hand, his own need spiking high, dragging at Jared's jeans with what little brain he has left. He'd laugh at how the two of them must look, but he doesn't have it in him to care about anything but how necessary it is to get the fucking clothes out of the way, get his skin next to Jared's. He rolls them so they're on their sides, pressed together from shoulders to hips, Jared's leg draped up and over his hip. He takes Jared's hand, tracing the love line with his tongue before he wraps it around both their cocks. Jared whines high in his throat, hiding his face in the curve of Jeff's neck.
"Easy," Jeff says, and it's as much to reassure himself as it is Jared. "Easy." He runs his hand down Jared's back, a long, skimming path from high between his shoulders to the shallow dip between his hips. Jared shudders against him, flexing his hand, and they both groan at the feel of slick, hot skin on skin, cock on cock. Jared finds a rhythm, rocks them together, panting softly against Jeff's neck. Jeff finds himself gulping in air, all the nerves in his body aching and straining. He moves his hand again, another long stroke down Jared's back but this time he doesn't stop, tracing lower, down the crease of Jared's ass, lower still until he can tease Jared open, not quite pushing inside. Jared goes still against him, his breathing jagged and irregular.
"You gonna let me have this, baby?" Jeff presses in until he's got the tips of two fingers stretching Jared open. "Spread your legs for me, let me see you take my dick?"
"Jeff, god," Jared gasps. "I haven't--I've never--" and Jeff feels his own skin prickle with heat.
"I'll make it so good for you," Jeff whispers, working his fingers deeper, tiny thrusts in and out. "Open you up, get you slick... fuck you like this until you're begging for my dick."
He twists his fingers hard, and Jared comes biting at Jeff's neck, quick sharp pleasurepain that jolts straight to Jeff's dick, stripping away the last of Jeff's control along the way. Jared's hand closes impossibly tight, grinding his dick into Jeff's, slick and wet and hot, so that Jeff can't do anything but follow.
Jared stays close, a warm, heavy weight that holds Jeff together when he feels like he might shake apart, and when Jeff finally manages to open his eyes, Jared's smile is the first thing he sees.
"That fuckin' rocked," Jared says. Jeff lays his head back and laughs, just from how good he feels. Jared makes mock-indignant noises, bitching about not even getting two minutes of afterglow before he's getting mocked, and see if he ever tells Jeff anything nice again, but he shuts up and lets Jeff kiss him, and that's an entirely new level of good right there, trading lazy kisses back and forth until the rising sun edges around the blinds and Jeff slides into sleep with Jared's head on his shoulder.
***
It's a damn good thing Jeff let the decorator talk him into a California king. He tends to sleep sprawled out, but he's got nothing on Jared. Jeff's fairly sure he'd have ended up on the floor if the bed had been any smaller. On the flip side, there's a lot of skin on display and nothing to stop Jeff from planning where he wants to mark it up next.
Later, though, because he's desperate for a shower and a toothbrush and some caffeine, not to mention a quart or two of water and maybe a handful of aspirin, not necessarily in that order. Jared mumbles unintelligibly when Jeff slides out from under him; Jeff gives in to his inner sap and drops a kiss on Jared's shoulder before he stumbles into the bathroom.
Jared hasn't moved an inch when Jeff comes back out, but he lifts his head and makes an inquiring kind of sound as Jeff digs around for a pair of sweatpants. "Sleep, Jay," Jeff says. "I gotta let Bisou out."
Jared mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like know you're on a mission for coffee, you freak, but he puts his head back down and pulls a pillow over it, like a kid hiding from the day, and Jeff's inner sap must still be in control because he isn't even tempted to smack the ass that's on display. Bisou meets him at the foot of the steps, all bright eyes and high energy and Jeff is beyond happy to see her almost back to her old self but he really, seriously needs coffee. And drugs.
The kitchen's clean and empty, midday sun streaming in through the high windows, and the caterers, God bless them, set up the coffee maker and timer before they left, so all Jeff has to do is not burn himself as he fills a mug. He lets Bisou out and watches her through the windows. By the time she's ready to come back inside, he's worked through a couple of glasses of water and a half-carafe of coffee and might actually be feeling semi-human again. One of these days, and soon, he's going to have to admit he might be getting too damn old for this shit.
It doesn't help when Jared appears, all but fucking bouncing off the walls--well, it helps, because hell, yes, there's nothing not helpful about a half-naked Jared, jeans riding low on his hips, hair still damp from the shower--but goddamn, Jeff remembers when a couple of hours of sleep and a shower were all he needed, too.
"Coffee?" Jeff offers, which is still about the limit to his verbal powers, even with the caffeine starting to kick in, but Jared shakes his head.
"I'm good," he says, and Jeff's about to make the obvious crack, but Jared's reaching out and tracing feather-light around the edge of the cross inked on Jeff's arm and the words die in his throat. Jared takes his time, like he wants to memorize every flourish the artist worked into the design; Jeff's heart is pounding long before Jared's done.
"I never got around to this last night," Jared says, pushing Jeff back against the counter and hooking his fingers in the top of Jeff's sweatpants so they come down with him as he drops to his knees. He smiles up at Jeff and licks across the head of Jeff's dick, quick and light.
"Tease," Jeff gasps, fumbling behind him to get his coffee safely out of his hands.
"Preview."
Jared smirks, but he quits joking around and puts his mouth to work and Jeff doesn't care what the fuck he calls it, so long as he doesn't stop doing it. It's quick and rough and dirty, nothing fancy, but it doesn't need to be. It's Jared, on his knees, and Jeff has to close his eyes to keep from coming just from seeing that mouth wrapped around his dick. He can't close his ears, though, and the eager, greedy sounds Jared makes shred Jeff's control, piece by piece, until he's got both hands fisted tight in Jared's hair, holding him exactly the way Jeff wants him. Jared moans around Jeff's dick and that's it. Jeff shoves his dick as deep as he can get it down Jared's throat and comes hard enough that he's grateful for the counter at his back keeping him upright.
He makes himself soften the deathgrip he's got on Jared, easing back to where he's stroking and petting. Jared sucks him gently, one last time, then lets his dick slide free and rests his head against Jeff's hip, and they stay like that until their breathing evens out. Jared stirs after a bit, sitting back on his heels and tugging Jeff's sweatpants back up around his waist. When he reaches for the button on his own jeans, though, Jeff stops him with a sharp pull on the hair he's been petting.
"That's still mine," Jeff says, and if his voice is blown all to hell and back, it doesn't much matter, not with how Jared freezes. "We'll take care of it later." He tugs once more on Jared's hair, not quite as hard, but still purposeful.
"Yeah, okay," Jared chokes out, and Jeff files away how used Jared sounds for the next time he's stuck in some anonymous hotel on location. He lets the back of his hand trail along Jared's jaw, traces his thumb over Jared's bottom lip, rubbing lightly. Jared shudders and closes his eyes for a few seconds before he stands up and crowds Jeff back against the counter. Jeff goes with it, lets Jared get a kiss or two in before he tightens his hands on Jared's hips and makes him be still.
"Later," Jeff repeats, nipping at Jared's collarbone, smiling into the warm skin when Jared groans. "I'll make it worth it," he promises.
"Fine," Jared sighs. "I'm gonna go let the sun bake the tequila out of me." He waves in the general direction of the pool.
"You do that," Jeff says, sending him on his way with a smack on his ass. He's only barely refilled his coffee when Ever wanders into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a man's black button-down Jeff knows isn't his, which is about normal for a morning-after. So's the knowing smirk, but while Jeff doesn't really care where the shirt came from, he's a little worried about the smirk.
"Oh, my." Ever elbows him out of the way and fills a mug for herself. "He is beautiful when he blushes."
"Ev--" Jeff starts.
"Relax, love. I didn't say a word." Ever smiles at him. "Not that I couldn't have said many, many words, but I didn't say even one. Not even 'bravo.'"
"Oh, hell, you saw the whole thing, didn't you." Jeff is not anywhere near functioning well enough to deal with this. He makes it over to the table and drops into a chair. Ever follows, of course, but at least she brings the coffee. She settles herself comfortably and puts her feet up on Jeff's lap.
"Well," she says, sipping at her coffee. "I missed the part where he actually got on his knees, but the rest was fabulous." Jeff groans and puts his head down on the table, but she's not done with him yet. "My God, Jeffrey, you really are a toppy bastard, aren't you."
Jeff keeps his head down, waiting for the rest of it, but the room stays quiet.
"That's it?" he asks, turning his head so he can see her. "No cracks about robbing the cradle or lectures about screwing another actor?"
"Please." Ever flicks him lightly on the forehead. "Give me a tiny bit of credit. Every time you look at him, you smile. A real one, not that thing you trot out for interviews. More to the point, every time he looks at you, he could power half the Valley. I'm just proud you figured it out without a baseball bat to the side of your head."
"It was close," Jeff admits. He can see Jared through the windows, dragging a chaise around, playing tug of war with Bisou over one of the cushions.
"Well, then I'm happy he did what needed to be done." Ever finishes her coffee and stretches, looking thoughtfully out the window. "Do you think he could be persuaded to lose the jeans? Tan lines are so... distracting."
"Not right now, but I'll, uh, let you know how it goes later," Jeff says, smiling when Ever sticks her tongue out at him and calls him a spoilsport. He's about to get into some serious questions about the shirt and the owner thereof when there's a quick, discreet tap on a car horn and Ever's phone starts ringing.
"Whoops," she says, jumping up. She disappears around the corner, flipping open her phone, and reappears with her purse in one hand and a pair of sandals in the other. "That's me; I'm late for... brunch."
"Brunch," Jeff says, coughing. "Dressed like that?"
"Well, I need to return the shirt," Ever says, flicking at her hair in the reflection in the big plate glass window. She rummages around in her purse, coming up with a long, narrow length of leather cord that Jeff is not asking about. She knots it at her hips to sort of belt in the shirt, and Jeff has to admit, it almost looks like a dress. "And what use is custom lingerie if not for moments like this?"
She flashes Jeff, enough that he sees turquoise satin, as she heads toward the front of the house, stopping to lean back into the kitchen and say, "Pictures, love. I have every faith in your powers of persuasion. It would be a crime not to have a souvenir of the occasion."
"Out," Jeff growls. Ever laughs and blows him a kiss and then the front door slams and it's quiet again. Jeff's tempted to go see if he knows whoever belongs to the shirt, but then from outside he hears Jared's laugh overlaid with Bisou's barks and it's no contest at all.
He grabs a couple bottles of water out of the refrigerator; Jared looks up when he hears the door open, smiling at Jeff and reaching out with one long leg to drag a second chaise close. Jeff gets settled and hands over the water, watching with interest as Jared downs it in one breath.
"Perv," Jared says, flicking the last drops at Jeff.
"Appreciative of the breath control," Jeff corrects.
"Yeah, well, if it's not 'later' yet, stop looking at me like that."
"You ever hear of recovery time?"
Jared snorts, but stretches back out and it gets quiet and peaceful.
"Nice house," Jared says, after a bit, sounding sleepy and lazy.
"Thanks," Jeff answers. "You wanna actually see it sometime? Something other than the bedroom and kitchen?"
"Yeah, we can work our way through it," Jared drawls. "Christen it."
Jeff snorts, but he's not stupid enough to say anything that might change Jared's mind. "When do you have to be back in Vancouver?"
"Tuesday," Jared sighs. "Early flight. Have to get Jensen first." It's nowhere near enough time, but it's more than Jeff would have hoped for.
"You have any clothes?"
Jared opens one eye. "Am I gonna need them?"
"Just making conversation."
"Well, am I?"
"Don't stress yourself on my account."
"Okay, then. I'll pick up my duffel when I get Jensen." Jared turns over and settles down on his stomach.
"Works for me," Jeff says. Bisou noses up under one hand, and Jeff reaches out and puts his other hand on the small of Jared's back and lets himself doze off in the sun.
***
***
...continued in (And) The Beat Goes On...
Fandom: CWrpf
Pairing: JP/JDM
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: So much with the not knowing ANYONE.
A/N: For
caarirose's Jeff, Jared and Just About Anybody Else Challenge, because how could I resist Jeff, Jared, and the Muppets? *g* Many, many thanks to
without_me, who never doesn't make time to wrangle my grammar and sort through my character motivations, and to maschalismos and beanside and nilchance and poisontaster, all of whom took the time to read a very early draft and cheerlead nonetheless. Days go passing into years
Years go passing day by day
He'll Make Me Happy – The Muppets
It takes Jeff a while to decide to buy a place. No, that's not right--he makes the buying part of the decision in about ten seconds. What takes him a while is to trust that this life is still going to be there when he wakes up the next morning, that even if the calls and the scripts and the meetings go away--like they inevitably will--he won't be back to scrambling for the next month's rent or running through who might need an off-shift bartender so he doesn't end up in the back of his car or crashing on Ever's futon.
Once he gets past that, it's pretty easy. Rick knows someone who knows people in real estate and the next time he's in LA for more than a day or two, there's a list of properties they think would work for him. He drags himself out of bed and manages to get Bisou out for a run and himself into a shower before the Realtor, Estefania, shows up to start the process.
Even though another six hours of sleep would have been welcome, he has to admit it's goddamn fun to be walking in and out of houses the likes of which he'd made himself stop thinking about a decade ago. It's also so fucking crazy it's all he can do not to ditch the whole thing and go back to his bed and his dog who's perfectly happy with where they live now, except for the part where he's not around enough for her liking.
Estefania, who's no-doubt-about-it in charge of this mission, making sure he sees every last detail of every room, is most definitely on top of her game. After the fourth place, she detours through a handy Starbucks and loads Jeff up with a venti triple-shot. She smiles at him, like she didn't just administer a surgical strike, and takes out her leather portfolio to talk about what's coming next. Jeff's open to the possibilities, that's what he's said all along, but that's apparently not going to fly today, not with this tiny, perfectly dressed, terrifyingly organized woman who sees right through his best smile and keeps right on asking questions about how he lives, what he wants.
Ten minutes later, Starbucks' finest has kicked in, and Jeff's wired enough that the words are flying out of his mouth. Estefania's pen is flying across the heavy, cream-colored paper as she turns his random comments into an attack plan for the rest of the day, crossing out listings and adding notes while she makes calls and changes appointments around.
Four hours later, Jeff staggers back into his bedroom and face-plants on the unmade sheets. Bisou noses up under his hand, squirming until she's settled solid and warm against him. "Got it, sweetheart," Jeff mumbles, turning his head and rolling up enough that he can scratch behind her ears. "Got us a nice place, bar and kitchen for me, lots of grass and trees for you." There's more, a lot more--custom tile work and fireplaces and a master bath like something out of a fucking spa, but that's all secondary.
Bisou yawns and sighs, putting her head down and closing her eyes. Jeff has a dozen calls he needs to make, but that's too good of an invitation to pass up.
*
Spring 2006
According to Jared, Jeff's prize for the months of scheduling hell and never-ending flights between Vancouver and LA was to twist his schedule even further and be the guest of honor at the wrap party. Surveying the situation at the bar--already out of control and it was barely even nine--Jeff was fairly certain there was going to be police involvement at some point. But hell, what good was a party without a little noise? The Supernatural crew were clearly no slouches in matters such as this; they might only have been together a year, but they'd managed to hook up with the cast and crew from Smallville and Jeff could definitely see this night reaching legendary levels of insanity. Jared was right: Jeff was honored to be involved.
He was also tired enough to be glad to keep on the fringes, but he for damn sure wished he'd brought a camera. Blackmail material was falling left and right and it was just his luck not to be able to document it. Instead, he dropped a couple of bills on the bar to pay for the beer sliding his way and turned to touch bottles with Jensen.
"Good shoot," Jensen shouted over the music, and Jeff nodded in agreement. He could definitely drink to that. It had been a good episode, solid and sure, almost electric. He was always surprised how good it felt to slide into John Winchester's skin, how satisfying it was to really get into the character and cut loose.
"Thought you were more a bourbon kinda guy." Jensen leaned in close, nodding at the bottle Jeff still held.
"When in Rome," Jeff laughed, pointing to where Jared and Mike Rosenbaum were holding court, Jared lounging against the pool table, smiling at every young thing that crossed his path--and Jeff noted that they all were gravitating that way--never once lacking a bottle in his hand.
Jensen rolled his eyes. "Man, not you, too. 'Cause I'm telling you, my limit on getting drunk co-stars out of bars without fights or premature weddings is exactly one, and Jay's gunning to have his jersey retired."
Jensen was smiling when he said it, but Jeff could read the truth in his eyes.
"So long as everybody's having a good time," Jeff said. Across the room, Jared threw back his head and laughed as an over-enthusiastic fan in one of the shorter skirts Jeff had ever seen--and he'd been around for the original micro-mini--managed to get her legs wrapped around his waist.
"Dude, truer words. Truer words." Jensen finished off his beer. "I don't know how the hell he has the energy, but I'm not gonna complain, not when he keeps everybody going. It's like he broadcasts it or something."
Jeff nodded, watching thoughtfully as Mike peeled the young lady in question off Jared and sent her on her way. "Nice technique," he said.
"Mike is a man of many talents," Jensen agreed. "Still, I think it's time for me to pry Jared out of here so we have a hope in hell of making the flight tomorrow morning."
Jeff fell into step with Jensen. "LA?" he asked.
"Yeah, for a couple of days," Jensen said. "Time for a little change in scenery." He didn't say anything more, but Jeff could hear the underlying tension in not knowing what was happening with renewal.
"You ended it well," Jeff said. "Can't do anything more than that, and thinking you could have is a straight-on highway to the bad place."
Jensen nodded after a second, then caught Jared as Mike propelled him in their direction. Jeff stepped up and helped balance the load.
"Jeff! Hey!" Jared tipped left and draped himself across Jeff's back, all warm skin and hard muscles and big hands. Jeff staggered under the sudden weight. "Did you have fun at your party?"
Jeff reached up and patted the arm wrapped around his neck. "Not as much as you did, but I'm just fine."
"Awesome," Jared said, nodding more solemnly than Jeff would have thought possible. "You're a fun guy. You should be having fun."
Jeff fought to keep a straight face but lost it as soon as he snuck a look at Jensen, and then he was just happy they didn't actually drop Jared who, far from taking offense, was joining in with his own particular brand of lunacy.
"Good luck with the rest of Grey's," Jensen said, once they got Jared into his truck.
"See you next season," Jeff answered, and smacked the top of the truck. Jensen pulled out onto the street with Jared singing at the top of his lungs, and left Jeff to flag a cab to the airport and his hastily rearranged flight.
The house is new, mostly finished, and the builder is beyond happy to have a buyer for it, so it doesn't take long at all to work through the customizations Jeff--prompted by Estefania--decides on. He's not in before New Year's, but Ever says that just means he has to throw a hell of a housewarming party.
Jeff doesn't even bother trying to talk her out of it, simply texts her his schedule and credit card number and tells her to use her powers for good. He spares a thought for the new furniture--there's showing off the new house and then there's stupid--but figures there's not much use in worrying.
"Who the hell am I inviting to this thing, Jeffrey?" Ever has the uncanny ability to know exactly when Jeff's managed to fall asleep, and times her calls accordingly. Jeff would ignore her, but she'd only call back until he answers. Mary-Louise had fucking hated that, which Jeff's never mentioned, but is pretty sure Ever knows.
"Anyone you want, babe." Jeff rolls over and fumbles at the lamp next to the bed for a couple of seconds before he gives up and lets the room stay dark.
"Well, of course," Ever sighs. "I meant, who do you want to be there?"
"No," Jeff yawns. "What you meant was, have I gotten off my ass and started seeing anyone yet so you can scare the shit out of them at this shindig."
"Well, now that you've brought it up..."
"When the hell have I had time?"
"Please," Ever says. "Save the woe-is-me for someone who hasn't fucked her way through a bar with you."
"Seriously, Ev. Invite whoever you want to invite and let me sleep."
"My God, when did you turn into such an old man, Morgan?" Ever sounds ridiculously pleased at the thought, but since it's one more thing she can give him shit about, Jeff isn't surprised. "I'll be sure to make you up a gift basket of Geritol and Viagra."
"You do that," Jeff mumbles, rolling over and getting ready to hang up. "Oh, and Ev? Call the guys up in Vancouver."
He thinks he hears her ask, "Watchmen guys or Supernatural guys?" but he really is too fucking tired to deal. She'll call everyone and that's more than fine with him.
Spring 2008
The Sutton Place bar was a little too English-gentleman's-club for Jeff's taste--all dark wood and paneling and a fucking twelve-point buck over the fireplace, for God's sake--but it had convenience on its side. Plus, between Supernatural and Watchmen, Jeff had spent enough time there that he knew all the bartenders. More importantly, they knew him, and made a point to keep a stock of Hirsch's Reserve 16-year bourbon. It was his first--and for now, only--acknowledgment that he'd maybe made it out of the ranks of starving actors. Anything more was going to have to wait until he could catch his breath.
Right now, coming up with topics of conversation with somebody not in the business was about the limit of his brain power. The night had gone better than he'd have expected, but he had to give a lot of credit for that to Ever, who'd blown through on one of her crazy-ass whims. Jeff wasn't quite up to providing the level of distraction she needed from yet another jackass she'd let get too close--the Comedian was kicking his ass--but three days of watching him work had her all fired up, insisting that he needed to get the fuck out of the work/sleep/work rut and go be social and that she had just the person for him to call.
Jeff had growled and bitched, because the last thing he needed was a blind date--especially with someone she picked out, given her track record. Ever had rolled her eyes and asked in her sweetest voice, the one that only came out to administer the deadliest of bitchslaps, exactly how he thought he did any better, all without actually mentioning Mary-Louise or the damned ring. Jeff gave in after that, man enough to admit when he was beat. She'd made the call, set things up, and then blown back down to LA, threatening Jeff's life if he didn't immediately shave the mustache upon finishing pick-ups.
Jeff had thought about canceling, but finally decided she was right: he did need to get out of his rut. As usual, Ev knew his moods better than he did himself and Vic--the guy she'd set him up with--was pretty much on exactly the same page as Jeff, not looking for anything beyond a break in the routine. Dinner had been more than decent, the club Vic had suggested after had featured a much more than decent blues guitarist, and everything had gone well enough that Jeff had no problem extending the night for another drink or two--or longer, depending on how things turned out after those drinks.
Jeff--congenitally incapable of sitting still until he could catch a waiter's eye--was on his way up to the bar to fetch another round when he found himself shouldering past a familiar tall figure. He looked twice, but it was definitely Jared, looking like hell and deep in conversation with the manager. Gabe, behind the bar, had two fresh drinks waiting for Jeff, but when he turned around Vic was holding up his cell phone and pointing toward the lobby, so Jeff stayed where he was and waited for a break in Jared's conversation.
The longer Jeff watched, the less he liked what he was seeing. There was rundown by the grind of the season and then there was being flattened by it, and Jared was doing his best impression of a pancake, even with the strike having given him a couple of months off. Jeff bet the girls in make-up were having fits trying to cover the circles under Jared's eyes. Jared finally finished his conversation--which made no sense from what Jeff could hear, the manager promising to let Jared know as soon as they had a room ready before he moved off with a quick handshake--and looked up, right at Jeff. It didn't do anything to ease Jeff's mind that it took Jared more than a couple of seconds to really see Jeff, but he plastered a smile on his face anyway.
"Dude." Jared's voice was almost as rough as the rest of him. "Jensen said you were gonna be back up here doing pick-ups, but I totally forgot."
"I'd be offended," Jeff said, "if you didn't look far enough out of it that I'd put money down on you walking right past your mother and not seeing her." Jared laughed, a little self-consciously and not nearly up to his usual standard, and his hug was pretty much the same pale imitation of the real thing, but Jeff was taking anything positive he could get and he could tell Jared was making the effort for him. "Last I heard, you and the kids were this place's favorite guests. What're you doing down here at one in the morning begging for a room?"
"Yeah," Jared sighed. "Still that, I hope, but I've been gone for a week and they weren't expecting me back until tomorrow, and there's something about them doing maintenance upgrades, so I guess there's plumbing stuff all over the floor..."
Jeff didn't say anything, but Jared must have seen the surprise in his eyes. Supernatural had to be filming as close to nonstop as humanly possible, trying to make up for lost time, and he'd never known Jared or Jensen to miss an episode. Film promo, broken wrists... it didn't matter, they were always there.
"I know." Jared shrugged, a curiously defeated gesture. "I just... a friend ODed a couple of weeks ago and--they got him to the hospital and all, but he's..." Jared rubbed hard at the base of his skull. "He's in rehab and he... "
"It's okay," Jeff said, quietly. "It's rough on everyone when something like that happens."
"He asked me to sit with him, had this list of shit he wanted to apologize for, and, fuck, Jeff, none of it was any big deal, not like how I fucking ignored all the crap that should have tipped me off that there was something wrong."
"Jay--"
"No, seriously," Jared said, low and furious. "It was fucking textbook, and I just sat there like it was nothing but going out, having fun. Hell, I drove most nights, and he almost died."
"Jared." Jeff got right up into Jared's personal space, grabbed on hard to his upper arms, so he couldn't look away, couldn't pretend not to hear. "There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. You hear me? Even if you sat right there next to him and watched every fucking thing he drank or smoked or snorted, he would have found a way around it." He took a deep breath and tried to bring the intensity back down a little, because flashbacks to sitting in hospitals and funeral homes and hating himself weren't helping the here and now. "Now that you know, you can help however he asks, but it's still not on you."
"Yeah," Jared said, going limp under Jeff's hands. "That's what they were saying, at the center, but--"
"No buts." Jeff shook his head. "I mean it."
"I'll try," Jared said, after a long couple of seconds. Jeff let him go after a couple more, and he rubbed his hand across his face. "At least we're back shooting."
"Yeah," Jeff said. "Distractions are good."
Jared nodded. "Oh, hey," he said, noticing the two glasses of bourbon next to Jeff's elbow. "I'm sorry--I didn't mean to drag you into this whole thing. I mean, thanks, but don't let me keep you from the rest of your night."
Jeff hesitated for a second, glancing at the door right in time to see Vic walking back in. "You sure?"
"I'm sure."
He sounded like he meant it, and after another moment's thought Jeff decided to leave it where it was. "Okay," he said, picking up the glasses. "Take care of yourself, man. Say hey to Jen for me, and those monsters of yours."
Vic met Jeff halfway to the table, taking the glass Jeff held out. "Something you need to take care of?" Vic asked, nodding toward Jared.
Jeff shook his head. "No. I can't do anything for him." Vic nodded, but didn't say anything, which Jeff appreciated. "I've got a bottle of this upstairs, though."
"Yeah." Vic nodded, holding Jeff's eyes easily. "We could do that."
Jeff drained his glass--it was practically criminal to gulp something that good, but there definitely was more upstairs and maybe Ever had been even more right than he'd realized. He left a twenty on the table and showed Vic the way to the elevators.
As usual, Ever throws a hell of a party. She's there before Jeff even wakes up, staking claim to one of the guest suites, and declaring the study as her command center. The caterers arrive at noon to start setting up, only they're more event planners than people wrangling food, and Jeff has an hour or so of pure panic that they're going to create a theme and turn him into a walking, talking, just-hit-it-big-let-me-show-you-how-hard-I-can-try-to-be-trendy caricature. He hovers, much to Ever's sarcastic delight, but all they do is pack away anything that's breakable and manhandle the furniture around so there's better "flow." At that point, since he's clearly superfluous, Jeff leaves Ever in deep discussion about how many bars they're going to need to take Bisou and hide in the master suite.
When he comes out, showered and changed, there are a couple of low-key flower arrangements scattered around, and a sushi chef out by the pool, but otherwise the house still looks familiar. Zach shows up with his crew, and Jeremy not long after, which means the party is official even if nobody else comes. More people keep trickling in, though, and Jeff keeps busy for a while, talking and making introductions.
He finds Ever in the kitchen a while later, perched on the granite-topped island with a pitcher of martinis at her side and a rapt audience hanging on every word. He slides up next to her and eases an arm around her waist. "Can I get a word or two with the lady in charge?"
"Having fun, love?" Ever asks, grinning that familiar, wicked grin and leaning even closer to whisper, "Don't lie to me; I know exactly how good Jeremy's party favors are."
"Me? Lie to you?" Jeff feigns shock. "Only when it's a matter of life and death."
"Which, strangely enough, happens so often I've lost count." Ever pecks him on the cheek, then scrubs at the smear of lipstick, frowning until she gets him cleaned up. "All right, enough of that; you wanted words?"
Jeff shakes his head and decides it's not worth the trouble to get her somewhere semi-private. "I'm trusting that I'll eventually recognize more than one in three people who're coming through my front door."
"Of course, love." Ever offers him her martini glass, eying him with that mocking glint until he downs it, and then laughing her quiet, private laugh when he coughs through the burn of what might as well be straight gin. It's not a surprise--her martinis have always consisted of a pitcher of gin and a shot glass of vermouth--but it's still enough to take the skin off his throat. He'd asked her once why she even bothered with the mix, and had gotten an unexpectedly serious answer involving her active dislike of vermouth having to be balanced against the family history that said the serious alcoholics drank their gin neat. He's pretty sure that was when she shifted from being the California party girl with the charmed life to the real woman who's still one of the reasons he's more-or-less sane after way too many years in the business. "Think of everyone here so far as friends you haven't spent much time with. What else are parties for?"
"Got it," Jeff says. "Which brings me to my second point." He refills the glass and hands it back to her, leaning close to murmur, "Why the hell are there no charges on my card for any of this?"
"Because I didn't use your card." Ever leans back, raising her hand to cut him off the second he opens his mouth. "Don't be an idiot, Jeff. You wouldn't have shown up if I'd told you I was throwing you a party, so shut it and fucking well have a good time, okay?"
She looks Jeff dead in the eyes, no playing, no BS, until he sighs and nods. "Excellent, and look, perfect timing." She points out toward the pool. "Two out of two that you know."
Jeff obediently looks where she's pointing and sees the Js getting pulled right in to where Jeremy and Zach and crew are settled in for the long haul, a couple of bottles and a baggie or two already gone and more on the table for the rest of the night.
"Go," Ever says, making shooing motions. "See your boys. Show off your new house, God knows you've been working your ass off for it long enough." Jeff starts out the door to join them, then stops, struck by a semi-scary thought.
"Hey, Ev? You, uh, did think to get a lifeguard, right?" There's not a doubt in his mind that somebody's going to end up in the pool; he'd like it a lot if nobody drowned tonight.
Ever cracks up, one long peal of laughter that has everyone around her grinning. "Two shifts, love. I know my guys and all of you are dumber than dirt when you're having a good time."
Fall 2008
For a couple of minutes at the beginning of ComiCon, Jeff held on to the idea that he could link up with whoever Eric was bringing down from Supernatural. He was there, they were there, it didn't seem all that crazy. Of course, then the whole weekend turned into such a fucking roller coaster ride he couldn't figure out where anyone was, not even with the nonstop texting he and Jensen were doing. Hell, he couldn't figure out where he was most of the time. He thought he caught a glimpse of Jared at one point--even in that mob, Sasquatch stood out--but given how his head was spinning he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd seen his long-dead Nana in the crowd.
There was no question at the Scream Awards, though. Jared fucking tackled him on the red carpet--just saw Jeff talking to some fans and had the car he was riding in stop so he could throw himself on top of Jeff. There was a split-second when Jeff had no idea what had hit him, but he managed to recognize Jared's voice crowing above him before he actually threw a punch.
"No problem, no problem." Jeff heaved Jared off of him and waved at the security guys who were converging from both sides. "Nobody but my crazy-ass lunatic of an ex-costar."
"Gotcha, Dad." Jared grinned and raised his arms in victory and raced back to his car. "Winner and still champion!"
Jeff shook his head and shrugged at the semi-shellshocked fans on the other side of the fence. "Never a dull minute with that one."
He got a little of his own back later--his ambush was tamer, but actually in the middle of an interview Jared was giving, so that was worth a few more points. Jared, of course, managed to get in a shot of his own, calling Jeff his boyfriend on camera, which definitely floored the woman conducting the interview. The PR flack from Warner Brothers didn't look happy with Jeff's departure from the almighty Schedule, but Jeff was a good boy after that and smiled and talked to anyone and everyone they shoved him at. God knew he was more than happy to be doing it, to have something worth doing it for, but that didn't mean it wasn't exhausting in its own way and that he wasn't stupidly grateful to look up from the last reporter and see Jared standing a little ways off, four beers dangling between his fingers, two of which he held out for Jeff.
"Goddamn, that's good," Jeff said, draining the first one in a single go. Jared nodded and finished off his own, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "You're a mindreader, Jay."
"Nah," Jared laughed. "I just always talk too much when I have to do one of these things and--"
"Imagine that," Jeff interrupted.
Jared flipped him off amiably. "Yeah, whatever--you looked like you were in the same shape, so I figured you could use a couple, too."
Jeff tapped his bottle against Jared's and got started on the second one. There was a potted tree behind them, big enough to give the feel of huddling in a corner, away from the crowd. It was a nice break, but it wasn't going to last; Jeff figured he'd enjoy it while he could. He heard fairly regularly from Jensen--texts and amused responses to Jeff's own pornographic emails--so he was mostly up on everything happening in Vancouver, but it was always good to get the details in person, especially when that meant he got to watch Jared at his most animated, arms flailing and hair flying in his enthusiastic recap of Round Three-million-and-something of the never-ending prank wars that still raged through the set.
"I think they finally got smart and stuck a standard clause into all the directors' contracts, so they know what they're getting into," Jared said. "We haven't had anyone pitch a fit this season, and trust me, we have not backed off, not even a little bit."
"Let me guess--the guest stars are on still their own, though," Jeff said.
"Awww, it's okay, Jeff. We still haven't gotten anybody quite as good as we got you."
"I'm honored," Jeff said. Jared laughed and bumped shoulders with him, and Jeff couldn't help adding, "You look good, Jay. About a thousand times better than the last time I saw you."
"Yeah, that was... It really wasn't a good time." Jared sobered up fast.
"It never is." Jeff's fingers itched for a cigarette.
"I never... I should have called or emailed or something, but, y'know, thanks." Jared shrugged. "For letting me fall apart on you."
"Not a problem, man," Jeff said. "I've been there." Jared nodded, but didn't say anything. Jeff wanted to ask how things were going, but that kind of situation didn't always turn out well, so he searched for a new topic instead. "Jen says the two of you playing roommates is going good." It wasn't the smoothest transition in the world, but at least it was something.
"Yeah, it's been awesome." Jared's smile was a little slow, but pure and genuine. "We had to declare the house a no-fly zone, otherwise I'd be afraid to sleep in my own bed. You know Jen'd be all in stealth mode, have some nasty shit ready to go off in the middle of the night, just so he could watch me have a heart attack."
"Or get pictures," Jeff said, grinning back.
"Video," Jared snorted. "But, yeah, I'm glad I talked the dork into moving in and y'know, buying a bed." He finished his second beer and set the bottle down behind the little tree. "It's not--I thought I was buying it, the house, for... a different reason, but it's good to be there. The dogs, and Jensen, and all. It's a weird little family, I guess, but it's working."
"It's been a hell of a year," Jeff said.
"Yeah," Jared sighed. "I'm trying to, y'know, think about shit these days, not just go headfirst into whatever somebody waves in front of me. I guess, seeing people I know, people I care about having to start all over again--maybe that helped get it through my thick skull, just how lucky I've been."
"Sitting around in visiting rooms will do that for you," Jeff said. "Sometimes. Sometimes, it takes more of a wake-up call, so don't sell yourself too short." Jared shrugged; Jeff smacked him on the back of head. "For real."
"Yeah, okay," Jared finally said.
"Like I said, a hell of a year."
"I, uh, I'm sorry your stuff didn't work out." Jared shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. "I mean, this is all pretty awesome, the movies and all, but the other stuff..."
Jeff shrugged, and finished the rest of his own beer. "Took me too damn long to figure out I was beating my head against a wall. Hell, I even went back for a second round, for fun, I guess, but that's pretty much the story of my life, so..." He looked at Jared. "Sorry about yours, too."
A photographer came up right then, motioning them together to get a couple of shots, the PR team from Warner Brothers right behind her, and the little bit of stolen time was up. Jared put his arm around Jeff's shoulders and hauled him in close.
"Boyfriends, remember?" Jared said, just as the first flash went off, so both of them were grinning like idiots for the camera.
Jensen's brought his girl, who Jeff's been hearing about for a while and is more than happy to finally meet, but Jared's still flying solo. Once Jeff figures out Danneel can handle his moronic friends without breaking a sweat, he relaxes a little and lets Zach include him in the happy round-robin of tequila and weed. He ends up with Jared on his left, Zach and Jeremy across the table, Jensen and Danneel sitting on the edge of the pool and Ever cruising in and out. Bisou has Jared's number without even having to work the recovering-from-surgery angle; Jeff should probably cut Jared and the nonstop food delivery service off, but every time he tries, Jared fucking gives him the puppy-eyes and Bisou whuffles and puts her head in Jared's lap and hell, Jeff's only human.
He knows he's more than a little fucked up, but the whole night is just nice.
"Oh, hey," Jared says, leaning back and groping around along the edge of the wall, coming up with a brown paper bag that's unmistakably holding a bottle. "This is for you."
"Jay," Jensen sighs. "Classy. Does it get any more redneck than a bottle in a paper bag?"
"Well, yeah," Jared answers, unperturbed. "But you'd probably have a stroke, so I didn't go there."
"That's our boy," Jeff says, taking the bag. "Always looking out for his fellow man." Jensen snorts and Jared grins and nothing ever changes with those two, Jeff thinks, a rare good thing in a business that likes to grind people down. He slides the bottle out and whistles, long and low, because there really aren't that many bottles of this stuff around.
"I figured you were the only person I knew who'd appreciate it," Jared says. He's sprawled back in the deck chair, all long legs and that easy grace Jeff's always noticed, but there's an edge there that Jeff can't quite figure out, small enough that he'd think he was imagining things, except Jensen's watching everything a little more closely than Jeff would have expected.
"Might have to work up to appreciating it, but damn, that'll be one fine education." Jeff checks out the label again and then looks up at Jared and grins. "I know you're supposed to open gift bottles right away, but no way in hell am I wasting this on these cretins." He gets a full complement of raised middle fingers and the expected round of insults--nothing much changes between Zach and Jeremy and him, either--but once all the crap dies down, he leans closer to Jared. "Seriously, Jay--where the hell did you find this--"
"McNaughty!"
There's only one person Jeff knows who can project her voice like that, loud enough to knock a grown man flat if she wants. Jeff shouldn't be surprised to see her standing at the French doors, hands on her hips and a wicked grin on her face; he knows Ever better than that. "Ramirez," he yells back. "Get your ass over here, woman."
Jared folds his legs up quick, and Jeff manages to get out from behind the table without falling flat on his face, or kicking his dog, or dropping anything that might set the place on fire. Katie's there behind Sara, so there's a round of hugging and ass-slapping and by the time Jeff extricates himself from that--not that he's really trying all that hard--Ever's directing a mariachi band out onto the deck and everything's really kicking into high gear.
"Dear lord," Ever says, coming up next to Jeff and watching with horrified fascination as Jared drags Danneel away from where she's sitting with Jensen and spins her out in some whacked-out variation on dancing. "That's... I actually don't know what that is."
"It's Jared," Jeff says, but then Sara grabs him and since she actually can dance, he does his best to keep up. It's hopeless, though, so after a few minutes he snags Danneel, who's helpless with laughter, and they make their escape, leaving Jared to do his thing with Sara.
"Oh, yeah." Jensen has his phone out, getting everything on video. "This is gonna be great the next time we're stuck in the middle of nowhere. Fun for the whole crew."
"Or you could go the blackmail route and see what you could get him to do to keep it under wraps."
"I dunno," Jensen says, eying the screen critically. "A month's worth of free laundry, or making sure everyone on location gets to mock Sasquatch...?"
"Mocking." Jeff grins at Jensen. "Definitely mocking."
"It's the gift that keeps on giving," Jensen agrees.
Jared finishes with a flourish and a bow to Sara, and drops back down in the chair, laughing and flipping Jensen off, double-fisted. Bisou barks once and noses her head up under Jared's hand, with an expression that says she's been waiting patiently, but it's time for the nonsense to be over. Jared takes the hint and scratches behind her ears with one hand and reaches the other out for the beer he abandoned, tilting it up and drinking in one long swallow, the line of his throat clean and pure in the low lights from the pool and landscaping.
"Your girl's always sweet," Sara says, breathless and laughing, hanging onto Jeff's arm and pointing to Bisou. "But she usually doesn't have eyes for anybody but you."
"Jared's good people," Jeff says.
"Oh, he's good something," Sara answers, giving Jeff a quick kiss and wandering off in search of Ever and her bottomless pitcher of martinis. Jeff grabs one last hit off Zach and then heads back into the house to see if he can maybe act like the guy who's hosting the party, even if he has no idea what else Ever has up her sleeve. It takes him what seems like an hour to get through everyone who's packed into the kitchen, and then another one to make it to the front door, and the same to make the loop backwards.
By the time he gets back outside, there's another dead soldier on the table--tequila, this time--and people have definitely been in the pool, but things are mellowing. Bisou gets up from where she's sprawled out on Jared's feet and comes to meet Jeff.
"Hey, sweetheart," Jeff says, bending down to run his fingers through the fur on the scruff of her neck. "Jared finally stop feeding you?"
"She liked the shrimp things. I mean, she didn't turn anything down, but those were definitely her favorite." Jared stands up and stretches. "But damn, I'm glad I can finally move."
"Dude, you spoil her worse than I do." Jeff tries not to laugh at Jared's shuffle-steps as he works the blood back into his feet. "I know she's killer with the big eyes, but you could have shifted her off you."
"Nah," Jared says. "It's not a big deal."
Bisou trots on ahead, looking back occasionally to make sure they're following, heading straight for the corner where Jeff keeps her bowls, for all the world like she hasn't just scarfed down a couple hundred dollars worth of raw fish already. She's not happy to discover that Jeff moved her dining room, but she follows him down the hall to the study. Jared stays with them, getting the minor tour of the place.
"Jensen said she had to have surgery." Jared leans against the door and watches while Jeff moves the bowls out from under the desk.
"It was..." Jeff starts to get into all the details, but Jared's watching them with serious eyes and Jeff knows he gets it. He pets Bisou instead, letting her snuggle up next to him. "They thought she might lose a leg," he says, and knows Jared understands that, too, how close to being a reality all of that was.
Jared crosses the room in two long strides and crouches down next to Bisou. "But she's good now, right?"
"Yeah." Jeff takes his hand and shows him where the scar is. "She's fine. I need a shot every time I think about it, but she's doin' great."
Jared traces the whole length of the ugly scar, his touch so light Bisou barely notices. He croons to her, tells her what a good girl she is, brave and strong. It's quiet in the study, the noise from the rest of the house muted by distance, and Jeff loses track of how long they sit there, the three of them. It's another stolen moment, like the one at the Scream Awards, and it's not until Jared laughs quietly that Jeff realizes he said that out loud. He's starts to apologize, put it down to too much going on, too much tequila and weed, but Jared waves him off.
"It's okay," Jared says, his grin fading into something that's quieter, far less joking. "I--It'd be okay with me if it was longer."
Jeff almost misses it; if Jared had smiled, Jeff would have let it slide as him reading things into innocent comments. But Jared's eyes are dark and serious and he doesn't look away from Jeff, doesn't laugh and shrug. Jeff's not sure that he's even breathing.
"Yeah?" Jeff asks, and Jared nods once.
Jeff thinks he should be a little more surprised at how right it feels, but apparently, while he's been in one of his more oblivious states, his subconscious is right with the program. Jared's watching him with a little hint of nerves behind the surface calm, and Jeff can't help teasing him, just a little. "I dunno, Jay... you flirting with me?"
Jared's head jerks up at that, but then his mouth quirks into a half smile. "Yeah, well, you know. I flirt with everyone. But you... you make it damn hard, Jeff."
The silence stretches out between them. Jeff doesn't think Jared actually knows how right he is, about everything. It's simple enough to fix it for here and now, though.
"What if we make it so I'm not making it hard," Jeff says, his voice low and rough, catching on something he hasn't felt in a long time. "What then?"
"Then..." Jared breathes. "Then I tell you that I've been spending some quality time with your guys outside, and I'm a little fucked up, so this seems like a really good idea right now..." He leans forward and fits his hand to the curve of Jeff's jaw and then his mouth is on Jeff's, sweet and strong. He kisses Jeff like they have all the time in the world, shifting closer when Jeff starts kissing him back, moaning low in his throat when Jeff gets his own hands in Jared's hair and doesn't let him go.
There's a crash somewhere in the distance, definitely glass; only dishes and cutlery, Jeff hopes, and not a window or mirror, but whatever it is, it's enough to remind him how not in private they are. It's still damn hard to make himself ease back; he ends up keeping one hand tangled in Jared's hair.
Jared stares at him, as breathless as Jeff feels, and when Jeff slides his hand down, along and under Jared's jaw, he can feel Jared's pulse, jackrabbit fast against Jeff's thumb.
"You think it's still gonna seem like a good idea later, when you're not fucked up?" Jeff almost doesn't want to ask, in case Jared's having second thoughts, but Jared only nods.
"Yeah," he says. "You--this isn't me drunk and stupid." He grins, adding, "Well, yeah, drunk and I'm probably always stupid, but you knew that going in."
"I did," Jeff agrees, giving up and leaning in for more. He keeps it quick, though--or tries to, ending up talking against Jared's mouth. "Stick around, okay? This is--" He trades a couple of words for another taste, another lick, another not-quite-gentle bite. "Don't want to rush this."
"Yeah, okay," Jared says, smiling like Jeff's handed him the keys to a Porsche. Or maybe that's how he's smiling himself, Jeff thinks, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the far wall. Either way, he's cutting himself off for the rest of the night.
It's long past four, inching on toward five before everything winds down, the only ones left those Jeff knows will sleep where they fall. He wanders back through the house, still in some kind of zone where he knows he should be falling over from how tired he is, but not wanting to let go of the night.
He finds Jared in the study, crashed out flat on his back on the big leather sofa. Jeff hesitates at the door, but Bisou pads into the room to lick at Jared's hand where it's fallen to the floor.
"Hey," Jared says, yawning and hauling himself up to a sitting position, stretching big enough that Jeff catches more than one tantalizing glimpse of skin. "Sorry. I hit the wall around three."
"Jay--" Jeff says, fully intending to let Jared off the hook if he needs to, but Jared doesn't even let him get started.
"I've been attracted to you since the first time we met," Jared says, quietly. "We were both in different places and it was--I haven't been dying over here or anything. Just, y'know, I always knew when you were around."
"Yeah," Jeff murmurs, and Jared smiles a little.
"And," he says, taking a deep breath. "I mean, that wasn't the smoothest I've ever been, earlier, but it wasn't because I hadn't thought about it. A lot. Like, Jensen's probably ready to smother me in my sleep, he's so tired of hearing me think about it. It's my theme this year, or something. But, yeah, I still think it was a really good idea, even if I was pretty fucked up at the time."
"C'mere," Jeff says, settling himself against the wall, letting his eyes slide slow and easy over Jared as he crosses the room, gray t-shirt and black jeans that Jeff's hands itch to peel off him. "Closer." He hooks his fingers through Jared's belt loops, rests both thumbs against the smooth, warm skin along the edge of the waistband. "Yeah, like that." He leans up to brush his mouth over Jared's, one quick, soft taste, and then another. "I still don't want to rush this."
"Okay," Jared whispers, all but vibrating against Jeff. He braces both hands against the wall, bracketing Jeff, and then kisses him, careful and deliberate, warm, eager mouth and the slightest scrape of teeth. Jeff slides his hands up under the soft cotton of Jared's shirt; spreads his fingers wide, greedy to feel as much of Jared as he can. Jared whines into the kiss, which is almost more than Jeff can take, good intentions be damned. It's a game then, to see what other noises he can coax out of Jared, a game that's going to have a fucking awesome payoff, given how Jared's shifting against him, little twists of his hips, a promise and a tease of everything to come.
Bisou sighs, a long, tired sound; when Jeff finally can look past Jared, she's up on the sofa, curled where the heat from Jared's body probably still lingers. She blinks at him once, then lays her head down and sighs again, and Jeff gets the message loud and clear.
"I guess we're boring her, huh?" Jared smiles, only a hint of dimples, but real and sweet.
"The royal we has spoken," Jeff says. He drops his hands down, makes them move away from Jared's skin, and and then doesn't bother pretending there's not a surge of mineminemine when Jared makes a small, disappointed sound. "Come on." His fingers find Jared's belt loops again; Jared moves willingly enough, but Jeff doesn't let go, not until they're through the house and up the long, curving staircase in the front hall, the one he still hasn't quite wrapped his brain around being his.
There's a lamp on in his bedroom, a low warm light that throws highlights on Jared's skin as he pulls his shirt up and over his head. Jeff steps up close and puts his hands back on Jared, watching as well as feeling this time. He steers Jared toward the bed, backing him step by step.
"No," Jeff murmurs, as Jared starts working on the button on his jeans. "That's all mine."
Jared nods, dropping his hands and shivering as Jeff dips his fingers under the denim. He slides the buttons open one by one, and groans as he realizes it's only the jeans, nothing under them but skin.
"Oh, baby," Jeff growls, trailing the backs of his fingers along the length of Jared's dick. "Such a dirty boy you are."
He wouldn't be surprised to see a smirk on Jared's face, a score one for me, but when he can tear his eyes away from how the open jeans frame Jared's cock, Jared's eyes are closed and he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Want you so bad," Jared whispers, dropping his head back, long, sweet throat begging for Jeff's mouth.
"You got me, baby," Jeff promises, giving in and biting down hard under the curve of Jared's jaw, licking and sucking over the bite marks before doing it again, and again, Jared whimpering and shaking against him. Jeff stays with-it enough to get them both onto the bed, Jared spread out under him, and then sits back on his heels to look, because God, that's almost enough to make him lose his mind right there.
"Fuck, Jeff," Jared begs, hips arching off the bed. "Fuck, touch me, please."
"Shhh," Jeff soothes, stroking down the center of Jared's chest, breastbone to navel, strong, sculpted muscle, lean and tan. "So much I want to do to you." He flicks his nails across Jared's nipples, watching with an aching pleasure as they harden, teasing them until Jared begs him again. Jeff bends down and licks over the same skin, sucks each nipple carefully, and when Jared's voice goes hoarse and wrecked, Jeff can't help biting there, too.
"Oh, god," Jared babbles. "God, Jeff, fuck." He tears at Jeff's jeans, clumsy and shaking but determined, finally just shoving his hand inside, rubbing down over Jeff's dick, palming it, grinding up with his own hips. Jeff groans and pushes into Jared's hand, his own need spiking high, dragging at Jared's jeans with what little brain he has left. He'd laugh at how the two of them must look, but he doesn't have it in him to care about anything but how necessary it is to get the fucking clothes out of the way, get his skin next to Jared's. He rolls them so they're on their sides, pressed together from shoulders to hips, Jared's leg draped up and over his hip. He takes Jared's hand, tracing the love line with his tongue before he wraps it around both their cocks. Jared whines high in his throat, hiding his face in the curve of Jeff's neck.
"Easy," Jeff says, and it's as much to reassure himself as it is Jared. "Easy." He runs his hand down Jared's back, a long, skimming path from high between his shoulders to the shallow dip between his hips. Jared shudders against him, flexing his hand, and they both groan at the feel of slick, hot skin on skin, cock on cock. Jared finds a rhythm, rocks them together, panting softly against Jeff's neck. Jeff finds himself gulping in air, all the nerves in his body aching and straining. He moves his hand again, another long stroke down Jared's back but this time he doesn't stop, tracing lower, down the crease of Jared's ass, lower still until he can tease Jared open, not quite pushing inside. Jared goes still against him, his breathing jagged and irregular.
"You gonna let me have this, baby?" Jeff presses in until he's got the tips of two fingers stretching Jared open. "Spread your legs for me, let me see you take my dick?"
"Jeff, god," Jared gasps. "I haven't--I've never--" and Jeff feels his own skin prickle with heat.
"I'll make it so good for you," Jeff whispers, working his fingers deeper, tiny thrusts in and out. "Open you up, get you slick... fuck you like this until you're begging for my dick."
He twists his fingers hard, and Jared comes biting at Jeff's neck, quick sharp pleasurepain that jolts straight to Jeff's dick, stripping away the last of Jeff's control along the way. Jared's hand closes impossibly tight, grinding his dick into Jeff's, slick and wet and hot, so that Jeff can't do anything but follow.
Jared stays close, a warm, heavy weight that holds Jeff together when he feels like he might shake apart, and when Jeff finally manages to open his eyes, Jared's smile is the first thing he sees.
"That fuckin' rocked," Jared says. Jeff lays his head back and laughs, just from how good he feels. Jared makes mock-indignant noises, bitching about not even getting two minutes of afterglow before he's getting mocked, and see if he ever tells Jeff anything nice again, but he shuts up and lets Jeff kiss him, and that's an entirely new level of good right there, trading lazy kisses back and forth until the rising sun edges around the blinds and Jeff slides into sleep with Jared's head on his shoulder.
It's a damn good thing Jeff let the decorator talk him into a California king. He tends to sleep sprawled out, but he's got nothing on Jared. Jeff's fairly sure he'd have ended up on the floor if the bed had been any smaller. On the flip side, there's a lot of skin on display and nothing to stop Jeff from planning where he wants to mark it up next.
Later, though, because he's desperate for a shower and a toothbrush and some caffeine, not to mention a quart or two of water and maybe a handful of aspirin, not necessarily in that order. Jared mumbles unintelligibly when Jeff slides out from under him; Jeff gives in to his inner sap and drops a kiss on Jared's shoulder before he stumbles into the bathroom.
Jared hasn't moved an inch when Jeff comes back out, but he lifts his head and makes an inquiring kind of sound as Jeff digs around for a pair of sweatpants. "Sleep, Jay," Jeff says. "I gotta let Bisou out."
Jared mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like know you're on a mission for coffee, you freak, but he puts his head back down and pulls a pillow over it, like a kid hiding from the day, and Jeff's inner sap must still be in control because he isn't even tempted to smack the ass that's on display. Bisou meets him at the foot of the steps, all bright eyes and high energy and Jeff is beyond happy to see her almost back to her old self but he really, seriously needs coffee. And drugs.
The kitchen's clean and empty, midday sun streaming in through the high windows, and the caterers, God bless them, set up the coffee maker and timer before they left, so all Jeff has to do is not burn himself as he fills a mug. He lets Bisou out and watches her through the windows. By the time she's ready to come back inside, he's worked through a couple of glasses of water and a half-carafe of coffee and might actually be feeling semi-human again. One of these days, and soon, he's going to have to admit he might be getting too damn old for this shit.
It doesn't help when Jared appears, all but fucking bouncing off the walls--well, it helps, because hell, yes, there's nothing not helpful about a half-naked Jared, jeans riding low on his hips, hair still damp from the shower--but goddamn, Jeff remembers when a couple of hours of sleep and a shower were all he needed, too.
"Coffee?" Jeff offers, which is still about the limit to his verbal powers, even with the caffeine starting to kick in, but Jared shakes his head.
"I'm good," he says, and Jeff's about to make the obvious crack, but Jared's reaching out and tracing feather-light around the edge of the cross inked on Jeff's arm and the words die in his throat. Jared takes his time, like he wants to memorize every flourish the artist worked into the design; Jeff's heart is pounding long before Jared's done.
"I never got around to this last night," Jared says, pushing Jeff back against the counter and hooking his fingers in the top of Jeff's sweatpants so they come down with him as he drops to his knees. He smiles up at Jeff and licks across the head of Jeff's dick, quick and light.
"Tease," Jeff gasps, fumbling behind him to get his coffee safely out of his hands.
"Preview."
Jared smirks, but he quits joking around and puts his mouth to work and Jeff doesn't care what the fuck he calls it, so long as he doesn't stop doing it. It's quick and rough and dirty, nothing fancy, but it doesn't need to be. It's Jared, on his knees, and Jeff has to close his eyes to keep from coming just from seeing that mouth wrapped around his dick. He can't close his ears, though, and the eager, greedy sounds Jared makes shred Jeff's control, piece by piece, until he's got both hands fisted tight in Jared's hair, holding him exactly the way Jeff wants him. Jared moans around Jeff's dick and that's it. Jeff shoves his dick as deep as he can get it down Jared's throat and comes hard enough that he's grateful for the counter at his back keeping him upright.
He makes himself soften the deathgrip he's got on Jared, easing back to where he's stroking and petting. Jared sucks him gently, one last time, then lets his dick slide free and rests his head against Jeff's hip, and they stay like that until their breathing evens out. Jared stirs after a bit, sitting back on his heels and tugging Jeff's sweatpants back up around his waist. When he reaches for the button on his own jeans, though, Jeff stops him with a sharp pull on the hair he's been petting.
"That's still mine," Jeff says, and if his voice is blown all to hell and back, it doesn't much matter, not with how Jared freezes. "We'll take care of it later." He tugs once more on Jared's hair, not quite as hard, but still purposeful.
"Yeah, okay," Jared chokes out, and Jeff files away how used Jared sounds for the next time he's stuck in some anonymous hotel on location. He lets the back of his hand trail along Jared's jaw, traces his thumb over Jared's bottom lip, rubbing lightly. Jared shudders and closes his eyes for a few seconds before he stands up and crowds Jeff back against the counter. Jeff goes with it, lets Jared get a kiss or two in before he tightens his hands on Jared's hips and makes him be still.
"Later," Jeff repeats, nipping at Jared's collarbone, smiling into the warm skin when Jared groans. "I'll make it worth it," he promises.
"Fine," Jared sighs. "I'm gonna go let the sun bake the tequila out of me." He waves in the general direction of the pool.
"You do that," Jeff says, sending him on his way with a smack on his ass. He's only barely refilled his coffee when Ever wanders into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a man's black button-down Jeff knows isn't his, which is about normal for a morning-after. So's the knowing smirk, but while Jeff doesn't really care where the shirt came from, he's a little worried about the smirk.
"Oh, my." Ever elbows him out of the way and fills a mug for herself. "He is beautiful when he blushes."
"Ev--" Jeff starts.
"Relax, love. I didn't say a word." Ever smiles at him. "Not that I couldn't have said many, many words, but I didn't say even one. Not even 'bravo.'"
"Oh, hell, you saw the whole thing, didn't you." Jeff is not anywhere near functioning well enough to deal with this. He makes it over to the table and drops into a chair. Ever follows, of course, but at least she brings the coffee. She settles herself comfortably and puts her feet up on Jeff's lap.
"Well," she says, sipping at her coffee. "I missed the part where he actually got on his knees, but the rest was fabulous." Jeff groans and puts his head down on the table, but she's not done with him yet. "My God, Jeffrey, you really are a toppy bastard, aren't you."
Jeff keeps his head down, waiting for the rest of it, but the room stays quiet.
"That's it?" he asks, turning his head so he can see her. "No cracks about robbing the cradle or lectures about screwing another actor?"
"Please." Ever flicks him lightly on the forehead. "Give me a tiny bit of credit. Every time you look at him, you smile. A real one, not that thing you trot out for interviews. More to the point, every time he looks at you, he could power half the Valley. I'm just proud you figured it out without a baseball bat to the side of your head."
"It was close," Jeff admits. He can see Jared through the windows, dragging a chaise around, playing tug of war with Bisou over one of the cushions.
"Well, then I'm happy he did what needed to be done." Ever finishes her coffee and stretches, looking thoughtfully out the window. "Do you think he could be persuaded to lose the jeans? Tan lines are so... distracting."
"Not right now, but I'll, uh, let you know how it goes later," Jeff says, smiling when Ever sticks her tongue out at him and calls him a spoilsport. He's about to get into some serious questions about the shirt and the owner thereof when there's a quick, discreet tap on a car horn and Ever's phone starts ringing.
"Whoops," she says, jumping up. She disappears around the corner, flipping open her phone, and reappears with her purse in one hand and a pair of sandals in the other. "That's me; I'm late for... brunch."
"Brunch," Jeff says, coughing. "Dressed like that?"
"Well, I need to return the shirt," Ever says, flicking at her hair in the reflection in the big plate glass window. She rummages around in her purse, coming up with a long, narrow length of leather cord that Jeff is not asking about. She knots it at her hips to sort of belt in the shirt, and Jeff has to admit, it almost looks like a dress. "And what use is custom lingerie if not for moments like this?"
She flashes Jeff, enough that he sees turquoise satin, as she heads toward the front of the house, stopping to lean back into the kitchen and say, "Pictures, love. I have every faith in your powers of persuasion. It would be a crime not to have a souvenir of the occasion."
"Out," Jeff growls. Ever laughs and blows him a kiss and then the front door slams and it's quiet again. Jeff's tempted to go see if he knows whoever belongs to the shirt, but then from outside he hears Jared's laugh overlaid with Bisou's barks and it's no contest at all.
He grabs a couple bottles of water out of the refrigerator; Jared looks up when he hears the door open, smiling at Jeff and reaching out with one long leg to drag a second chaise close. Jeff gets settled and hands over the water, watching with interest as Jared downs it in one breath.
"Perv," Jared says, flicking the last drops at Jeff.
"Appreciative of the breath control," Jeff corrects.
"Yeah, well, if it's not 'later' yet, stop looking at me like that."
"You ever hear of recovery time?"
Jared snorts, but stretches back out and it gets quiet and peaceful.
"Nice house," Jared says, after a bit, sounding sleepy and lazy.
"Thanks," Jeff answers. "You wanna actually see it sometime? Something other than the bedroom and kitchen?"
"Yeah, we can work our way through it," Jared drawls. "Christen it."
Jeff snorts, but he's not stupid enough to say anything that might change Jared's mind. "When do you have to be back in Vancouver?"
"Tuesday," Jared sighs. "Early flight. Have to get Jensen first." It's nowhere near enough time, but it's more than Jeff would have hoped for.
"You have any clothes?"
Jared opens one eye. "Am I gonna need them?"
"Just making conversation."
"Well, am I?"
"Don't stress yourself on my account."
"Okay, then. I'll pick up my duffel when I get Jensen." Jared turns over and settles down on his stomach.
"Works for me," Jeff says. Bisou noses up under one hand, and Jeff reaches out and puts his other hand on the small of Jared's back and lets himself doze off in the sun.
...continued in (And) The Beat Goes On...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 2