To prove that this lj really does have things in it other than CW boys picspam, I bring you fic!

Story number three of twenty-five for the slashfic25 community, this one is for the prompt of "Jealousy" and was written mainly to see if I can ever write Christian Kane, which I'm still not entirely convinced of. Brenda betaed it though, and said it was ready to post, so here it is. Thank you again, darlin!!!

I've wanted to name a fic this for a hundred years. Thank you, Elvis Costello *g*

Title - Heart Shaped Bruise
Pairing - JA/JP
Prompt - Jealousy
Size - 1900 words
Rating - R





Heart Shaped Bruise



Jared's acting like an ass. He knows he is. But it's like every other thing in his life, and once he starts, man, he can't seem to stop.

It's a Saturday night, and the time's hovering somewhere between two AM and way too fucking late to still be out. The show ended hours ago. Two hours, three, six. Who the hell even remembers. The music was good while the show was going on, and then there was Jensen's voice in his ear after: Chris and Steve know a place if you wanna--

Jared didn't have it in him to say no. Not when Jensen was asking, his breath warm against Jared's skin. His eyes happy and shining a little too bright from beer and booze.

So they wound up in a bar, where Jared doesn't really want to be, drinking beers he doesn't really feel like drinking. The music's too loud - some crybaby emo crap that Jensen listens to when he thinks no one's around - and everything's just too much. Too loud, too bright. Jensen's probably happier than a hog in a mudpit right about now, while Jared wants to put a goddamn gun in his mouth.

Plus, there's the whole other part of the equation. The whole, Hey, Jared, you remember Chris and Steve, right? part.

It's bad enough that half the time the only reason Jensen smiles - really smiles - is when he's telling Jared a story that revolves around one of those other two fools. Everything's always, Hell, man, one time Chris-- or This other time, Steve, man, you wouldn't believe--

Jared smiles and laughs. Nods his head and wonders if Jensen has any stories - any at all - that don't involve Chris or Steve. Or Chris and Steve.

So it's bad enough when it's like that. Just a vague, somewhere out there, kind of way. Up close and personal? Goddamn. It's even worse.

Jared's shirt is damp, sticking to the sweat drying on his back. He reaches around to scratch his neck. Finishes his beer and frowns around the bottle when Jensen sinks the eight ball out of sequence on the table at the other end of the bar.

The light catches Jensen's hair and makes it shine a dull gold. Steve shakes his head as he looks at the table. Says something close to Jensen's ear that has him tossing his head back and laughing, and Jared curls his fingers tight around his bottle of beer.

Chris, son of a bitch that he is, picks just that minute to look over. Jared can actually feel Chris watching him. Fucking lizard eyes. Jared could swear sometimes that Chris doesn't even blink.

Jared turns and heads to the bar. He needs to do something, seeing as how Jensen's going to be busy all night, and hell. Drinking might as well be it. When Chris walks over and stands next to him, Jared doesn't even have to turn to know that he's there. Chris tends to make his presence known.

Chris murmurs, "Two," and Jared looks up in time to see the bartender flip over two glasses and splash Cuervo over the rims. Because tequila is what Jared needs right now. Maybe Chris is trying to kill him.

Jared lifts his glass though, when Chris nudges it toward him across the sticky bartop. He throws it back, feels it slide down his throat, sharp and biting, and slams the glass mouth down on the bar.

Chris chuckles a little. Shakes his head and lets his bottle of Bud dangle from between two, thick fingers.

Jared grits his teeth. He knows he's being an ass, but he just can't stop.

"Good show tonight," he says, trying for casual. The way Chris smirks lets Jared know that he probably missed on the casual mark. By about six miles.

Jared sips his beer; Chris an unnerving presence next to him. He wishes Chris would just cuss him out or take a swing at him. Something, Jared doesn't even care what. He can feel Chris watching him, always with that face. That fucking, I know something you don't look in his eye. Between that and the way he practically pats Jared on the head every damn time him and Jensen show up somewhere, Jared's about to have some serious issues.

Like he's having now, the way he can hear Jensen laughing again, clear across the bar. Like how he knows that if he turns around right this second, he'd see Steve standing closer to Jensen than anyone does these days, except for Jared.

Steve's standing so goddamn close it's making Jared think crazy things. Making him want to stomp over there and shove his tongue down Jensen's throat in the middle of the goddamned bar. Making him want to beat his chest and pull his hair and say dumb shit like, he's mine, or hands off, or stay the fuck away. Shit that he probably has no business saying. The last time Jensen said anything about him and Jared at all, it was more along the lines of Goddamn, you've got the sweetest fucking mouth, than anything about them really. Them, them.

Which is maybe what the problem is. Jared's thinking in terms of them like some dumb chick. He's so pissed at himself he wants to spit.

Because it's not like Jared doesn't know anything about Jensen. Hell. He probably knows more than half the people in Jensen's life do about him.

He knows that Jensen drinks his beer dark and his coffee black and that he never eats anything before noon, no matter what time he gets up or what day of the week it is. Jared knows that Jensen hates waiting for people for anything, but half the time he'd sleep the day away if Jared didn't call to wake his ass up. Jared knows that Jensen loves the Mavericks and the Cowboys and playing golf. He likes his wings hot and his pizza cold and has a sweet tooth like you wouldn't believe. Jared knows all of this, and more.

He knows the way Jensen tastes and smells and feels. The way Jensen's mouth is always wide and wet. How he kisses Jared with all he has, never hiding anything, never holding back. Jensen likes peppermint gum more than cinnamon, and whenever Jared kisses him, that's what he tastes. A combination of gum and beer, usually. Sometimes tequila or scotch thrown into the mix.

Jared knows the important things, like what Jensen sounds like with his dick deep in Jared's mouth. He can recognize the muffled, short gasp Jensen makes right before he's about to come; can pick it out every single time. He knows what Jensen looks like thoroughly fucked out and drunk in the middle of the night, eyes heavy and half-lidded, mouth curved soft in a smile, or sleepy and stumbling first thing in the morning, scratching his belly and balls.

And those are all good things to know. Jared realizes this. It's just that sometimes he feels like he doesn't know anything about Jensen - about him and Jensen - other than those things. And thinking that maybe Steve and Chris do - that they have some kind of inside information, or a way to be able to figure out the inside of Jensen's head better than Jared does - well. Sometimes it just pisses him off.

Jared hears Steve's voice now, the slow, easy roll of it carrying across the bar. Telling Jensen to, Rack 'em up, goldilocks. Before I grow old over here. He hears the way Jensen laughs and mutters something back under his breath. Jared tells himself not to turn around; he's just bringing everyone down. When Chris's shoulder bumps into his, Jared actually flinches.

"Settle down, son," Chris says, voice scratchy and worn from the show. "I'm just hangin'."

Jared turns his head and finds Chris a hell of a lot closer than he expected, and if there's one thing Jared doesn't want, it's Chris looking too close at anything. Jared grabs his beer, tries for smooth, and says, "Yeah. It's cool. Just hanging out, right?"

Chris laughs, quiet and a little knowing. Jared's fingers tighten on the bottle.

"You watching him over there?" Chris asks after a minute. The bracelets on his wrist jingle as he reaches for his drink.

Jared shrugs. "I've seen people shoot pool before."

"No, I mean, are you watching him over there," Chris repeats. Jared glances over in time to see Jensen lining up his shot. Steve waits until just before Jensen pulls the queue stick back, then leans down and shouts something in his ear. The stick goes flying as the six ball flies off the table. When Jensen looks up to laugh, he catches Jared's eye from across the bar and includes him in his smile.

"Yeah," Jared says. He swallows hard. "Yeah, I'm watching."

"He looks real happy," Chris says. Jared shrugs. Turns back and finds Chris looking at him with sharp, clear eyes. "See, Jared. This here's the thing about Jensen." Chris pauses as he knocks back the rest of his beer. "The thing about Jensen is that's it's never about what he says."

Jared nods. Stands there waiting for Chris to finish, but Chris, fucker that he is, just grins and tips his bottle toward Jared in a toast as he pushes away from the bar.

"Wait, what?" Jared asks Chris's back.

Chris turns back around and points. "Remember what I said," he says, smirking, before heading back over to Steve and Jensen.

Jared's officially done. He's had it. First sweating his ass off in the middle of who the fuck knows how many screaming chicks at the concert. Then to come out only to have Jensen hanging with his other friends all night long. And now this. Chris talking in riddles and man, Jared's just done.

He's about to call the bartender over. Settle his tab, get the hell home, when he feels Jensen nudging him with his shoulder. Jared looks over, and Jensen's face is flushed pink. He's smiling wide and happy and just like that, Jared's anger's gone as quick as blowing on a lit match. Just from Jensen's smile.

"Hey," Jensen says, a little quiet and a little drunk. Jared wants to push him down and lick the taste of anyone else from Jensen's mouth. The taste of everyone before him.

Instead, he sways a little closer and just says, "Hey," back.

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "You ready to go?"

Jared nods. "Yeah. I was just gonna get the check and-"

"Come over," Jensen says softly. His eyes flick to Jared's mouth and Jensen licks his lips. When he looks back up his eyes are hot. "I mean, if you wanna."

"Yeah." Jared's voice is a hell of a lot rougher than he'd like. "Yeah, okay."

Jensen smiles, slow and wide. "Well, all right."

Jared rests his palm on the small of Jensen's back. Not long, just a minute, but in that split second he feels Jensen lean back just a little bit. Just long enough for Jared to feel it.

And hell, Jared thinks. Maybe that fucker Chris was right.

Jensen looks up and catches Jared's eye. "We going or what?"

Jared smiles. "Yeah," he says against Jensen's ear. "Let's go."



-end-