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smackenzie: (jared)
[personal profile] smackenzie
(wren? here's your phone sex. :D )

Having Jensen gone wasn't quite the hardest thing Jared had ever had to put up with, but it certainly wasn't easy. But he had things to occupy his time - his job, his dogs, his friends, the night class he'd registered for at Belmont, his bikes. He very nervously came out to his parents as bi and told them he was dating a guy, and his mom asked how he knew, when did he know, had he told his friends and coworkers, were they ok with it, and when could she and his dad meet this boy? And his dad asked the kinds of questions about Jensen that a dad might ask about a boy who was dating his daughter - where was he from, what did he do, what was family like, what was he like.... And neither of them gave Jared much grief or seemed too upset. He was relieved.

He wondered if they were ok with it for the same reason Jensen had said his parents were ok with it, because they'd latched on to the "I still like girls" part of the bisexuality equation, and were just waiting for the day he and Jensen broke up and he started dating girls again. But he didn't think so. He thought they were probably ok with it because they loved him and had accepted the choices he'd made in his life so far, and if that was who he was, they'd adjust.

(And then Jared told his sister, who didn't seem fazed at all, and his brother, who didn't quite seem to get it but also didn't really seem to care, as long as Jared was happy. "If he breaks up with you, do I have permission to break his face?" his brother asked, which was exactly the same thing he'd asked their sister when she told them about her boyfriend. Jared said no, that was ok, he could probably find enough local people to do it, if it came to that.)

Coming out to his family meant Jared could get some sympathy for being in Nashville alone while Jensen was on tour, and a little sympathy was always nice, but still, it was hard being without him. They talked on the phone sporadically - when Jensen had time, Jared was at work, and when Jared had time, Jensen was at a gig - emailed each other, sent silly little texts. Jensen drunk-dialed Jared twice late at night, both times when Jared was asleep, and left rambly, slurred messages about how much he missed Jared and wished he was there. Jared just drunk-texted once, which earned him a couple days of non-stop teasing for his incomprehensible typing.

Jared learned that Oklahoma Ford was touring with one band for the first half of the tour (they were called Barnes and were more properly a singer and her backup band) and a different band for the second half of the tour (this one called Hollywoodland, and it turned out the fiddler and Aly were friends). On two of their stops, local bands were scheduled to open for them, so there were three bands on the bill instead of two. Jensen was getting along with the rest of Oklahoma Ford and more or less with the bands they were touring with, although Barnes' singer, whose name was Pam, put the moves on him and he hadn't figured out how to put her off without pissing her off.

"I kinda like her," he told Jared. "Not like her, but you know, she's a great singer, she's pretty fun, other than this I think she's pretty professional, and I don't want to be rude. But I don't want to fuck her."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I said I was seeing someone. Didn't stop her."

"Tell her you have a boyfriend. That should work. Chris'll back you up if she gives you a hard time."

"Yeah, I know. We've only got another couple days with her, I think it'll be fine. And the next band, Aly's friends with the fiddle player and I don't expect any problems. Shit, I gotta go, I think we're about to get our sound check. I miss you, man. See you in a week and a half. Eleven days."

"Got 'em marked on the calendar. I miss you too. Go be brilliant."

One Monday they were a little short-staffed at Beaver Automotive - Tom had fallen off a ladder on Sunday and was temporarily laid up with a busted ankle (he'd been fixing some shingles on the roof of his garage, which information caused Katie to snort "But it's a rental" when Aldis filled her in), Jim left late in the morning for an eye appointment and lost the rest of the day to it, and Katie overslept and was two hours late because her alarm clock failed to wake her up and neither of her roommates thought to do it either. So things piled up for Jared and Aldis. There was a PT Cruiser with a persistent check engine light, a Ford F-150, like Jared's truck but a few years younger, which had been knocked seriously out of alignment by - apparently - a giant pothole, a banana-yellow Corvette Stingray in for a 60,000-mile checkup, a Lincoln Town Car that would probably need a new radiator, a Chrysler minivan with a weird whine, and a fire-engine-red Mustang, circa 1966, that seemed to have been brought in just so the owner could show it off.

"Fuel pump needs work," Katie told Jared. "This one's mine."

Of course when the Mustang's owner came to claim it the next day, no one was around but Jared. Katie had already driven it around to the front for ease in picking up, but at least Jared got to fondle the keys and break down for the owner, a tall lanky guy named Weller, what they'd done to it and what everything had cost.

And then he got to watch the guy's long legs and nice ass and cowboy boots as he walked out of the office. Sometimes life did not suck.

That weekend Jared was finally able to take his Triumph out for a test run, but it was clearly not yet ready because it stalled twice and threw him both times. The first time he was more startled than anything, but the second time he fell left him a little bruised and a little scraped up, so when he got home he ran a nice hot bath to soak in. He wasn't seriously hurt - no broken bones, nothing twisted out of joint although his shoulder was sore, no major cuts or scrapes - but he was sore and didn't want to get too stiff, and he was tired. He took his phone into the bathroom, maybe intending to call Jensen or hoping Jensen would call him, but five minutes into settling into a tub full of hot, soapy water, he fell asleep.

His phone woke him up, and it took a minute for him to realize what the noise was and find the thing lying on a towel on the floor. It was Jensen. Jared smiled almost unconsiously as he answered the call.

"I'm hiding from Pam," Jensen said without preamble.

"Hi to you too," Jared said, but he was grinning. He loved that they had the kind of relationship where they could answer the phone that way. "Wait - I thought you were touring with someone else now."

"We are. Our paths crossed. I told her about you, Jared. I said I was dating a guy. She set her drummer on me." He sounded vaguely disappointed. Jared snickered. "It's not funny, man! Chris can't stop teasing me about it, and now Aly's gotten into the act - Hollywoodland's guitarist, guy named Kris - with a K, not like my Chris - she and Amber, the fiddler, think I'd be good for him. He's a cute kid but I don't know what they think I can do for him. I don't think he's into me and, y'know, I got you. And music-wise, I dunno, I'm not a voice coach or anything but he sings just fine, and I can't teach him anything about the guitar he doesn't already know. I don't know. I love playing for audiences - it's a new audience every time and yeah, it makes me nervous and I started doing a shot, just one, before each show, just to calm myself down, but the more I do it, the more I get used to it, and... I like playing live. No. I love it. I love it, Jared. But I miss you so much."

"I miss you too. I miss you a lot. Should we talk about something else? How long do you have before Pam's drummer comes looking for you?"

"Don't tease me. Tell me what you did today."

"I took the Triumph out - I thought she was ready for the road but no, not so much. She stalled a couple times and dumped me off. Well, I fell. I'm kind of ticked. And kinda sore."

"Jared." Jensen sounded a little worried.

"No, man, I'm fine, I wasn't hurt, I'm just a little banged up - like bruised, not bleeding or anything - so I'm sitting in the tub, just soaking. Hot water, feels good. Guess I got some work still to do on the bike, although I'm not sure what's wrong. I thought she was ready." He sighed. Jensen was quiet. Jared thought he might still be worried about the bike, and might need a distraction. "Remember when I tried to fuck you in the tub? Got water everywhere. Scared the dogs."

"Yeah," Jensen said, his voice softer now. "We figured you needed a bigger bath."

"But we both got off. It wasn't horrible." Jared's free hand dropped into the water and drifted between his legs. He rubbed his cock with the heel of his hand, remembering now what Jensen's face looked like hanging over his, his look of concentration and the way all his freckles stood out on his skin. "Next time we should find someone with a hot tub."

"Next time we should do it in the shower."

"Next time... yeah." He was getting hard now, enough to wrap his fingers around his dick and stroke. "Jensen... I'm thinking about you."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about what your face looks like right before you come. You get all still. Like, calm still. No ripples on the pond. You look... you look really gorgeous, like that. Where are you hiding?"

"In the back of the van." Jensen chuckled.

"You don't think anyone's gonna come looking for you?"

"Just Pam's drummer. So you're thinking about my O-face, huh?"

"Yeah. And your mouth... how it tastes. How it feels to be buried inside you." He was panting a little now, the motion of his hand working his erection making ripples on the surface of the bathwater. "Jensen... Jensen...."

"I'm here." Jensen sounded a little breathless too.

"Are you... are you thinking about me?"

"You could say that."

Jared imagined Jensen sprawled in the back of the van, his hand down his pants, jerking himself off. He groaned in the back of his throat, hips pushing up into his fist. Not as good as having Jensen right here, but Jared could still hear his voice, could still talk to him.

"Say something," he panted.

"I think about you when I'm on stage," Jensen said quietly. "It grounds me some, makes me less... the stage fright's not so bad."

"You think about me - hnn - after?"

"All the time. I miss you all the time."

"Me too. Jensen...." His hand moved faster.

"Jared. Jared."

Jared wanted to say Jensen's name, wanted Jensen to hear it, but he was so close to climax that he was reduced to shapeless moans as his head fell back and his hand pumped his cock and he came with a loud groan. His phone fell out of his hand and dropped on the floor.

It took a minute before he came back to himself enough to hear Jensen's voice - "Jared? Jared!" - and retrieve the phone from the floor.

"Dropped the phone," he said, his voice still a little breathless. "Sorry."

"It's ok. Talk to me. Say something. I want... I want you."

"Are you close?"

"Yeah." Jensen was breathing heavily. Jared was still a little turned on.

"Are you thinking about my ass or my dick? My hands on you? My mouth sucking you off?" Jensen groaned. "Come on, work that cock. Come for me, Jensen. Lemme hear you."

Jensen grunted as he jerked himself off, soft desperate noises that could almost get Jared hard again. Jared could tell when he came by the way the sounds cut off - that was the moment of stillness - and then Jensen started breathing again and made a vaguely disgusted noise.

"Ugh," he said, "I'm sticky."

"Christ, I miss you," Jared said. Jensen laughed.

"You miss my sticky self? Soon, Jared, soon. I miss you too. Every night. Every day." His voice dropped. "I can't wait to be home."

"Come right here. Don't go back to your place when you get back to town. Ask Jeff to borrow his key. I'll tell him it's ok. And when I get home from work, you'll be here."

"I'd like that."

"You should have your own key. I'll get you one." Jared knew he was babbling now, but he felt relaxed and calm and Jensen should know these things.



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