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The really sad thing was, he could remember every detail. Every last pebble and piece of broken glass in that parking lot. Every last drop of blood, every last fold of the girl’s clothing. It had been a year, and he still remembered. Sighing as he looked down at the familiar manila folder once again, he let his face drop into his hands. Pathetic? Yes, but wasn’t there still some respect left for a cop who stuck to his cases, even after they’d grown cold?
Running a hand through his curly blonde hair, Tom felt surer than ever that the job he had wasn’t worth his love. The entire Philadelphia F.B.I. knew of his obsession with the case. His boss had even threatened to take away his authority over it if he didn’t throw some effort into his others.
His best friend on the force was the only one who still had faith the thing could be solved. But Clinton was always a little… out there. And he’d suggested a few ideas in the past that hadn’t exactly panned out.
“What about shoe prints? Did we check for shoe prints?” It was a parking lot.
“What about that waiter at that restaurant two blocks away? He looks capable.”
Needless to say, he didn’t help. But he didn’t harm, either. He was a docile creature. Like… like a constantly hibernating bear. And he worked his own cases, letting Tom work his. There was usually no real problem until Clinton got really worried. Then things got weird.
Like now. Sitting at his desk, head in his hands, he knew Clinton was watching from the break room across the hall. He heard the footsteps and sighed to himself, preparing for anything.
“Know what, Grey? I think we should consider-”
“We’ve considered a lot of things, Talbot.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “What now?” He hadn’t meant to sound so frustrated. But looking at this file always made him more frustrated than he could control.
“Maybe… I mean I got his card from this guy who used to be on the force in L.A., and-”
“Los Angeles? Dear God, what curse have you brought upon us?” He’d worked with the L.A. F.B.I. before. Those bastards had seen everything and then some, last time he’d checked.
“Just check it out, Tom.” Clinton sighed, dropping the card on the table and heading out the door. “You and I both know you need something.”
Sighing to himself once more, he was almost afraid to look at the card. Clinton was always a little strange. And this was almost a year after the investigation started, so he knew desperate measures were in order. Clinton could be right; maybe he did need to try something new. After all, he was usually a pretty calm guy. If this case was getting under his skin…
Picking up the card, his eyes traveled over the words quickly. It didn’t say much, but it said enough for him to get the picture.
“You’ve gotta be fucking with me.” He breathed, staring at the cheap business card. Was he really that desperate?
“No you didn’t!” His sister and co-worker, Lisa, was getting pissed off pretty easily lately. Especially with the hormones. “I saw you pick it up and take it downstairs to storage! Jared, we’re out of the coconut bon-bons, we need to make more before Nanna finds out!”
“I Did!” Jared shouted. “I came back, checked and found out we were out, then went back down and brought the box back up! Christ! We wouldn’t need to make more if you’d stop eating the fucking merchandise!”
“I’m On Hormone Therapy!” She shrieked, for the thirty-thousandth time that week, he was sure.
“Yeah?!” He yelled. “Well, I don’t need to suffer for it! You’re the one who wants to have a baby! Go torture Richard! I’m on Peppermint Duty!”
Her dark eyes glared daggers at him. She really did look just like mom. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, full lips. Quite a resemblance. Especially when she was getting ready to throw something at him.
“Ass!” And the nearest, least-filled bag of powdered sugar came flying. Hit him square in the nose, too. With a muted poof! he was covered in the snowy white powder from the waist up.
He sent a green-eyed glare at her back as she stormed out, then quickly turned back to the peppermints. Grabbing the icing bag he always used, he quickly began filling it with the warm paste. He had to get it shaped on the tray before the entire tub of paste hardened.
Pushing a strand of brown hair out of his face, he wondered how long he’d been working there. Seven years? He knew it had been longer. Since before he graduated highschool, middleschool, preschool… All his life. It was the family business, and he was intent on sticking with it. He liked it. He hadn’t even gone to college. He loved this place too much to consider leaving.
Of course, he did do some volunteer work on the side, when he was needed.
Licking the powdered sugar from his lips, he wondered why no one in his family was ever morbidly obese. He was still pondering this when his cellphone rang. Still churning out peppermints with one hand, he reached into his apron pocket with the other.
“Hello?”
“Jared Macy?” A gruff male voice on the other end of the line said his name in a way that immediately sent a shiver down his spine. He ignored it.
“Yeah?”
“This is Tom Grey of the Philadelphia F.B.I.”
An immediate feeling of tension took over his body at the sound of his voice. Like he was anticipating… waiting… on the edge of his seat kind of waiting. His eyes widened at the feeling. He’d never felt…
He shook it from his system. “Oh. Okay, and?”
“I’m calling to request your services as a clairvoyant on a particular case that has been giving us trouble.” The voice sounded the tiniest bit strained on the last word. “But I would like to ask you to meet with me first. Is that alright?” The last two sentences sounded rushed.
Skeptic… “Sure, that’s fine.” He answered, brushing some chocolate-colored hair from his eyes, ignoring the powdered sugar. He was always irritated by the skeptics, as much as he expected them. “What time should I swing by?”
“Is noon good for you?”
Clinton watched him from across his desk, sympathetically. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”
“Shut up, Talbot. I know.”
“I’ll bet ya ten bucks he’s legit.”
Tom looked up at his friend, scrutinizing him. “Fifteen, and you’re on.”
Clinton nodded, grinning at the wager. But both heads turned when the elevator doors slid open, and a man stepped out onto their floor. Tom’s eyes widened slightly. He couldn’t have been more than five-nine, short compared to his own six feet. He was thin built, but had a confidant stride that said he could kick serious ass if he felt like it. Dark brown hair, pulled back in a sloppy bun. Bright green eyes. One piercing in his ear, one tattoo just under his eye. It was a tiny star.
Black fitted t-shirt, blue-jeans, sneakers. He could either be mistaken for a wet dream, or the guy they’d pulled in last week for possession with intent to sell.
“You think…?” Clinton was looking at the guy cautiously.
“Yup. I wouldn’t be surprised.” Tom answered. With my luck? Of course…
His eyes were scanning the area. He was looking for him. Clinton looked down at him, leaning against the desk for a minute, then turned back toward the man in the hallway.
“Hey, you Jared?” He called. The man turned, spotting Clinton and heading over.
“Yeah, I’m Jared.” He scrutinized Clinton carefully, then turned to Tom. His eyes looked him over with the intensity of a microscope. For a second, Tom felt vulnerable. He tried not to think about it, but the feeling wouldn’t leave. Finally, he looked Jared straight in the eye. Something flashed between them, some kind of heat that made his stomach flip.
“Tom, right?” Asked Jared, finally ripping his gaze away.
“Yes.” Tom nodded. “You can sit down, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
“I’ll just be…” Clinton stepped out of the office quickly, shutting the glass door behind him. Jared raised an eyebrow at his abrupt departure, but didn’t say anything. He simply sat down, lounging back in the old but comfortable chair that had inhabited that office for five years.
“So, Jared,” Tom began, preparing to tread lightly. “How long have you been doing this kind-”
“About four years.” Jared sighed, twiddling a loose strand of hair between his fingers, not really looking at him. “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t check me out first.”
“I…” Tom was silent for a moment, remembering his conversation with the L.A. cop, who’d praised the man’s extrasensory abilities.
“You wanna know I’m for real, right?” Jared looked him over slowly.
Blinking at the statement, exactly the point he’d been trying to get down to, he finally nodded.
“Fuckin’ skeptic…” He heard the man mutter under his breath. Then, back to normal tone of voice, “Gimme your watch.”
In short, he was looking at a Young Asshole Cop.
Tom’s blue eyes shifted to the watch on his wrist. “Why?”
“I’m gonna prove I’m real.” Jared answered shortly. “Dun worry, man. You’ll get it back in one piece.”
Tom looked at him for a moment, still wary, but finally slipped the watch off his wrist and threw it across the desk. Jared caught it with ease, then looked down at it. Old, but ticking like new. The guy took good care of it.
Sighing, he closed his eyes, thumb gliding over the face of the watch. Images began to flit through his mind, just slow enough to gain an impression. Soon, he began to tell the man what he saw.
“You just moved into an apartment. A small one, not even three rooms. More like a living room-slash-kitchen-slash-bedroom, a bathroom, and a broom-closet you use as an office. Not worth the rent.” He said, still rubbing his thumb over the watch. “You can’t cook, so you’ve been living off coffee and take-out. You’ve had this office for a while, I’d say about five years, and before that you worked in the field. You’re just getting over a bad break-up.” His eyes snapped open to look at Tom with a raised eyebrow. “The name Kevin comes to mind?” It was more of a question than a statement.
The man’s face became slightly red at the name, and he held back another smirk. Make that Young Gay Asshole Cop. They exist? He thought to himself. Huh…Who knew…?
He tossed the watch, letting it skid across the desk to its owner. “Satisfied?”
Tom was looking at him, completely shocked. “I… I guess I am.”
“Good.” Jared actually did smirk that time. “Then take me to the victim’s house, so I can do my fuckin’ job.”
“What?”
“No way does a pussy like you drive a car like that.” He was staring at the Cadillac as though it were made of gold. “No way in hell.”
He blinked. “Did you just call me a pussy?”
“Do you have a tendency of avoiding the point?” He asked sweetly, the innocent smile on his face making the tattoo on his cheek all the more noticeable. “That’s what I thought, Asshole.” He jumped over the passenger side door, into the seat, and then stared like a wide-eyed child at the dashboard.
He got in the driver’s seat and turning the ignition. His arm brushed lightly against Jared’s. He blinked as he suddenly smelled, and craved, peppermint.
“Call the family.” Jared ordered, brushing his bangs away. “Ask them to find some personal items of the victim, and bring them out to us when we get there.”
“We have items found on the crime scene in evidence storage.” Tom offered, turning slightly to look at the shorter man. Jared shook his head.
“No, Asshole. I get a funny feeling about this one. Lemme see what I can get from some less intense items first.” Tom nodded, as if he understood. Maybe if he pretended he understood, the guy would just move on.
He dialed Kate Meeterway’s household quickly, knowing the number by heart. Jared looked at him strangely, but just as he was about to question, the mother, Teresa, picked up the phone.
“Hey. It’s Tom.” He smiled into the receiver as the woman’s voice seemed to brighten.
“Tom? I haven’t heard from you in days! Weeks! What’s been going on?”
His smile disappeared. “It’s about your daughter.”
There was silence for a moment. “I see. What is it you need?”
“Just some things that belonged to her. Anything small you can bring outside to us. We’re taking a new route.” Jared watched him carefully as he spoke. He tried to pretend he wasn’t affected by his gaze. He kept watching the road.
“Oh. I see. Well, alright. I’ll see what I can find. You be careful driving Welsh Road today, Tom, they’re workin’ on it out there.”
“Alright.” He nodded along with her incessant babble. “Alright, we’ll be there soon. Yeah. Okay, Tess, see you in a few.” He flipped the cellphone closed and turned back to the road. Jared stared at the hand that once held the phone for a moment, then turned to the road as well.
They drove in silence. He wanted to say something, but he knew there would just be a quick comeback involving profanities and his occupation. He looked at the psychic through his rearview mirror. He was leaning back against the seat, stretching his legs out below him. His green eyes were watching the cars as they passed them. The star tattoo winked at him from under the dark hair whipping Jared’s face in the wind. Attractive? Yes. Until he opened his mouth.
He found himself unconsciously leaning toward the blonde man beside him, but caught himself before they… touched again. That touch had been strange. Woke up every last one of his senses. Shot straight through his nerves and hit him in his very center, then dispersed throughout his body, as though it were surfing the blood in his veins.
Every fiber of his being, suddenly screaming, Why are you doing this to me? This is torture, this breathless waiting…
He could still feel it. He didn’t know why. He didn’t want to know.
Tom got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. “You coming?”
“No, Asshole.” He snapped, wanting this disturbance as far out of his sight as possible. “I don’t want to hear names, or factual profiles beyond the victim’s. They only screw me up when I go to read this thing. Just hurry up.”
Tom raised a questioning eyebrow at him, before turning and heading for the first door of the duplex. The place was nice, if not a little unoriginal. And the minute he knocked, a small, dowdy woman with graying hair answered. She beamed up at him, hugging him hello, and leading him inside.
Looks like they’re close… He thought to himself, trying to ignore the weird vibe he got from the place. He heard a door open and shut across the street and turned. A man, maybe two or three years older than him, was heading straight toward the Cadillac, oblivious to his presence. He stopped for a moment and blinked at him. Jared stared back.
“That Tom Grey’s car you’re in?” He called from across the street.
“Yeah, why?” Jared answered. The guy smiled brightly, and Jared smiled back. He was okay-looking, but not phenomenal.
“Where is he?” He asked.
“In there.” Jared thumbed toward the duplex. The guy leaned forward on his heels and let his mouth shape a sarcastic little ‘oh’, eyebrows raising as it changed to a grin. The face made Jared’s stomach lurch.
“Well, you’re gonna be waitin’ a little while, then. That woman never lets him leave.” He laughed as he walked toward him. He leaned on the driver’s side door, grinning down at him. “Kevin Saunders. I’m a friend of his.”
“Yeah?” Jared looked him over with new eyes. Kevin… “Jared Macy. Temporary assistant.”
“Assistant?” He laughed. “Since when does Tom Grey get assistants?”
“Since he gets stumped.” Jared answered, hating the way he said Tom’s name. Kevin laughed.
“You’re funny.” He said, grinning down at him. “Didn’t know he had a thing for funny boys.”
“He doesn’t.” He said shortly, not even thinking.
“Then what are you doin’ in his car?”
“Dude,” He glared at him, finally letting his dislike show. “What part of ‘assistant’ don’t you understand?”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, do you assist him with, Mr. Macy?” He asked, leaning down over the driver’s side door, looking down at him. Jared hated him in that moment. It wasn’t dislike anymore. Something about those words, something about the way he said them… Something about the feeling he got from the guy was really setting him off. Jealousy? What was there to be jealous of?
“I assist him. That’s It.” He said through gritted teeth. “If you want to know the extent of our relationship, ask him.”
“Oh, but that’s just it.” Kevin made a mock-pout. “He’s not speaking to me.”
“Not. My. Problem.” Finally giving in to… whatever weird feelings this guy was giving him, he reached up, hooked a finger in his t-shirt collar, gripped it, and pulled. They were now eye to eye. He gripped the shirt hard, twisting the fabric in his hands and hoping it would choke him to death. “Now, I’m sorry, but if you don’t get out of my fuckin’ area- that’s about five feet around this car on all sides- I’ll have to slam your head through its shiny clean windshield. We clear?”
Kevin blinked at him, astounded. He stared back, dead serious. His body felt so wired, he’d swear he was on adrenaline. This guy was giving off the wrong kind of vibe. The fact that he obviously had a history with Tom wasn’t helping his chances of survival. Not that it mattered. Tom could fuck whatever trash he wanted.
“Okay, okay.” Kevin pulled out of his grasp. He’s still living. Damn Shame… “I get it. Here comes your boss, anyway. I’m out.” He sent a little wave over his shoulder as he sauntered back into his house.
Turning, he saw the door of the duplex open, and Tom step out. He was smiling. Genuinely smiling. The dimples on the edges of his mouth were showing, and his eyes were sparked with mirth. He turned back to the woman in the doorway, chatting with her on his way out. He laughed at something she said and Jared felt his stomach twist.
His body was pulsing with that feeling again. That feeling… Stop Waiting… This is crazy, you can’t keep holding this back…You have to stop waiting… Until he was shrinking in on himself, trying to push this buzzing feeling from his body and mind.
Tom turned back and headed for the car, plastic grocery bag in one hand, keys in the other. He opened his door and got in, waving at the woman as he put his key in the ignition. Jared glared at him, pulling his arm out of the way a little so they wouldn’t touch again. “What took so long, Asshole?”
“Are you ever going to stop calling me ‘Asshole’?” Tom asked, pulling away from the house and focusing on the suburban street ahead of them.
“You have yet to reach Dickhead Status, and let us hope I never have to call you Jerk-Off. That one would be bad for your health.” Jared answered, cracking his knuckles and just barely looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The sun glinted off his blonde hair, making him look almost angelic. His rose lips twitched upward into a quarter of a smile at the barb that really wasn’t meant to be funny.
He turned back to look out the window. “Just take me back to the Bureau. I’ll do a reading there. What’s the vic’s name?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Jared stared ahead, the star on his cheek suddenly out of view. He blinked and turned. He’d taken his hair down. Dark, chocolate brown waves fell to his shoulders, flying in the breeze as he ran his hands through it. His green eyes flickered toward him, and he looked away.
“So…” Redoing his hair, albeit sloppily, Jared turned and leaned against the passenger-side door, making himself comfortable while taking every liberty his eyes could take. Tom suddenly felt naked. “While you were having tea and cookies with the old lady, I had a little chat with one Kevin Saunders. Said he was a friend of yours.”
Gripping the steering wheel, Tom kept his eyes on the road. “He was.”
“He was, huh?” Leaning back against the door, he watched Tom with a sweet, playful smirk. “So, you wouldn’t care if I told you I threatened to slam his head through the windshield?”
Tom blinked, turning his head to gape at the man beside him. Jared smirked back. The star on his cheek accented the green in his eyes, making them sparkle. He looked positively diabolical. Positively devilish. And so sexy… The way those lips moved…
“Road, Tom.”
His eyes snapped wide, and he immediately turned back to the road. He could hear Jared snicker beside him. He didn’t find it at all funny.
He smirked to himself, shaking the thought from his mind. The man was good-looking (Good-Looking. Hey, we’ve just found a perfect specimen of The North American Understatement.) but he was cold. He was like a statue. A perfectly carved, chiseled statue. Like David. He froze, closing his eyes at the thought. David was Michelangelo’s Masterpiece… Tom’s body had yet to be seen.
Never to be seen… He glared at his feet. The guy’s a fuckin’ ice-man. The day he gets his head out of his ass is the day I run across the New Jersey Turnpike.
“So,” He began, trying to distract himself with conversation. “I’ll bet money I can figure out what went wrong with you and Kevin.”
“Yeah?” Tom looked over his shoulder at him, blonde curls falling into his eyes. “How much?”
“A dollar, maybe.” Jared answered, stretching is arms above his head for a moment.
“Make it two, and you’re on.” He raised an eyebrow at Tom’s answer, but didn’t question.
“Okay,” Jared said, cocking his head to the side with a smirk. “You liked him. He liked you. But he liked someone else more. Wanted to stay friends, but now you’re pretty much avoiding all contact and talking to each other like strangers.”
Tom turned around and looked at him with a smile. “Don’t know where you got all that, but it’s wrong.”
“What?! No way!” Jared glared, smacking the man’s shoulder. “Now it’s gonna bother me. What did happen then, Asshole?”
“None of your business.” He shut the driver’s side door a little harder than one should, and began walking up the steps to the glass doors. As he opened the door, he held out his hand. “Pay up.”
“Fine.” Jared handed over the two dollars, glaring. Slipping the bills into his pocket, Tom held the door for him as he stepped through. He looked like he was trying hard not to grin.
Finding his way to his office was usually easy. But, for some reason, today it was not. It seemed everyone was looking at him strangely. Jared walked by them, as if he didn’t notice the eyes. He wished he could be so proud. He blinked as he heard the familiar clicking footsteps of his boss, Lieutenant Carla Opran. He turned to smile at her, only to see her frown.
“Grey,” She began, heels clicking to a stop in front of him, scowl making her normally lovely face look ten years older. “What’s this I hear about you working with other methods?”
Jared stepped in at that moment, moving between them. “I’m Jared Macy. I’m working with him on-”
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Macy.” She cut him short, turning back to Tom. “I thought I told you to give up on that case.”
“I think it needs to be looked at from another angle.” Tom stated, standing tall in defense of his actions. Something he found himself doing a lot with Carla.
“Well, when you’re done reading tea leaves, and ready for some real police work-”
“Doesn’t a real detective look at the case from every angle?” Tom cut her off. “This is an angle.”
“Get back to your office, Tom.” She left them both with a stale glare, her heels clicking back down the hall.
Finally letting out the breath he’d been holding, he turned back to Jared to find him staring. His green eyes were wide, lips just slightly parted.
“Holy Shit…” He whispered. “That fuckin’ dragon is your boss?”
“Dragon? No.” Tom snickered, shaking his head. “Boss? Yes.”
He led Jared past the rest of the office, feeling his stare all the way.
No, Asshole, he was defending his reasons for calling you in the first place…
He stared at Tom the entire way to the office, unsure what to make of him. The tall, blonde, incorrigibly official robot seemed to be working without gears. It was confusing. One minute, he was an ice-man. The next…
The next, he’s savin’ my ass…
Slowly falling into the chair across Tom’s desk, Jared tried hard to get his mind to function properly. This wouldn’t work if he got too distracted. Even if Tom’s Adonis-Like good looks were the perfect excuse.
“So, what do you have?” He asked, leaning back against the old leather, breathing in the scent. He needed to distract himself.
“A few hairclips, some jewelry…” Tom picked through the paper bag the woman had given him on his way out. “A hairbrush…”
“Lemme see the brush.” He held out his hand. Looking at him warily, he let the other man take the brush from his hands. Jared sighed, closing his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the handle of the brush.
Tom watched with more attention than needed as Jared began to ‘read’ the object. Not that he really understood; was it even possible to understand such a feat? No, he had other interests.
Jared’s eyes fluttered closed, shielding their green from view. He was so… With his lips parted slightly as he leaned back against the chair, hair falling out of its restraint and behind his neck, caressing it like earth-colored silk. He was so beautiful. He didn’t want to say it, but he was so beautiful…
His eyes snapped open, and Tom immediately averted his own. No point in daydreaming.
“Little girl? Maybe eleven or twelve?” Jared asked, looking toward him pointedly. Tom blinked, looking up at him. “Brown eyes? Dark hair, obviously.”
“Yeah.” Tom nodded, not caring how the other man got the information.
“Perfectionist.” Jared stated. “Didn’t like going only halfway with things. More for organization than creativity.”
“Apparently.” Tom replied, not realizing his voice had become a little lighter. He was so lost. This man, Jared Macy… This gorgeous, sexy, devilishly boisterous psychic had suddenly appeared, from what seemed like nowhere. What the hell was he doing there? Why the Hell was he even speaking to Tom? He didn’t have to be there, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to be there. So why was he still around?
There were times when Tom would actually sit and think about the process of fate. Fate, with all her tricks, had decided to pull a fast one on his ass, and stick him with Jared until they figured out exactly what happened to Kate Meeterway. But why Jared? Why the Fuck did it have to be Jared? What was Jared doing here?
“Okay,” He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Jared speak. “Hand me something from the crime scene.”
He blinked at Jared for a moment, still foggily pondering, then reached into the box that had been shoved under his desk repeatedly for the past month. He’d checked that box out of the evidence ward more often than he bought groceries. But when did he ever buy groceries, anyway?
He pulled out a yellow plastic bracelet she’d been wearing when they’d found her. A sunny yellow bangle that he’d often found strange, because he didn’t think little girls still wore that type of jewelry. He handed it to Jared across the table, trying not to look anxious. Jared took it, slight fingers wrapping around it firmly. He watched him close his eyes again, slowly dragging his fingers along the bracelet.
“Colored lights? Cheesy music?” Jared threw into the air, opening his eyes to look at Tom. He shivered a little.
“She was last seen alive at Stacy’s Karaoke Bar.” He stated, surprised as Jared threw the bracelet back at him and stood.
“Then why the fuck aren’t we there?”
Jumping out of the Cadillac, Jared took the place in. The sign outside was enough to blind a man. The music was loud and bad. He immediately disliked the place. Why couldn’t they go to a bar? You know, with beer?
“This place blows.” He stated dryly as Tom got out of the car.
“Of course,” Tom answered back. “Teen hangouts always blow.”
They went through the open doors, into the neon atmosphere. Jared felt like he was in a pointless nightclub. No beer, no good food, no good music, no fuckable males over the age of sixteen. He wanted out. As in, now.
The teens watched them as they walked through the place, finding a table in the front by the stage. They both sat down in silence as the last notes of ‘I Will Survive’ hung in the air, and some broken-hearted thirteen-year-old girl bounded off the stage. Jared sighed.
“You must love your job.”
Tom had already turned to the waitress, who greeted him with a smile. “Yeah, we’ll have an order of nachos-”
“I hate nachos.”
“-Fries. Cheese on the side.”
The waitress went back into the kitchen, and Jared leaned down on the table. “So, come here often?”
“Well-”
“I’ll bet money you’re too chicken to go up there and sing.” Having finally figured out a way to make the evening exciting, Jared leaned back against the chair until it was on its back legs, grinning confidently.
“Yeah?” Tom eyed him skeptically. “How much?”
Jared grinned. “Ten bucks.”
“You’re on.”
And, just like that, Tom rose to his feet and headed over to the karaoke director. Jared raised an eyebrow at the retreating figure. But, before he could question, the waitress came back with the fried, and he began eating, knowing the blonde would be back soon enough.
He was having a hard time dealing with this. Tom was, quite honestly, driving him insane. Blonde hair, blue eyes, wry grin… Jared felt lucky to be alive. Everything about him suggested a cold, docile vulnerability. But every time they touched… His senses would pick up this massive reaction, all through his body…Stop waiting… What are you doing, just sitting there…
“Aaand He’s Back, ladies and gents!” The karaoke director shouted into the microphone. “Put your hands together for Tommy ‘Angel-Eyes’ Grey!”
Resounding shouts and cheers rippled through the crowd as Tom stepped on stage. He flashed the crowd a dazzling smile, and Jared’s eyes went wide as he realized what was going on. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face, and he shook his head. Cheating sonova… Then, the bastard had to open his mouth.
“All of Me…Why not take All of Me…
Can’t you see… I’m no good without you…”
He blinked. That voice… It was smoother than silk, and sent a shiver down his spine. Even with the hint of laughter, he emulated Sinatra’s sweetly satirical style perfectly. And Jared couldn’t help but stare. The soft blue light on the stage made him look inhuman. Ethereal. Perfect, and Jared couldn’t believe it was the same man. The smile on his face was genuine. The spark in his eyes made his whole face light up. He was just so incredible…
“Take my lips…I want to lose them…
Take my arms… I’ll never use them…”
Jared was stunned as Tom caught his eye. Caught off-guard. He wasn’t hiding. That was okay, neither was Tom. And it couldn’t be helped. The feeling he knew, this anxiousness, this restlessness… This swelling feeling in his chest that felt almost painful. He had no clue how to handle it. But he felt himself smile. A smile that wasn’t just a smile. A genuine smile.
Tom winked at him from stage, and it turned to a grin. His stomach flipped, and he tried not to notice.
“Your goodbye… Left me with eyes that cry…
How can I… Ever make it without you…
You know, you got the part…That used to be my heart…
So why not… Why not take All of Me…”
He watched as the song end, watched Tom’s lights begin to fade. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. Heard. Both, if he really thought about it. E looked down, not knowing where else to look. The fries had grown cold in his neglect. Damn…
He heard the chair scrape against the floor across from him, and looked up at the grinning blonde. Tom held out his hand. “Pay up.”
Glaring, he finally shoved a ten dollar bill across the table. Tom stole the cold french-fries as well.
Jared… he had no doubt anymore. He was genuine. But what a piece of work! He was a loud-mouth, crude and vulgar. He had no reason to be there, yet he was. Just to taunt him with the scent of peppermint, drive him insane with his constant pushing. For what? He didn’t know what the bastard wanted. Maybe he just wanted to see… See how far he’d go? Well he wasn’t giving up just yet. And he didn’t care how far Jared wanted him to go. He didn’t care at all.
And inside, his heart thumped at the thought. Maybe he did care… Just not too much?
Jared got out first. He looked around for a while, then began walking. He looked like he didn’t know what to do. The man was like an alien, examining the expanse of parking lot until he took another step, then examining again. He watched him move, taking in each step. Remaining quiet, he wondered again what Jared was doing there.
Jared took a sixth step, rubbing his fingers over his neck. Then another. Then another, and he stopped dead. He looked like he’d just been slapped. He gasped, and Tom was out of the car immediately.
Coughing, wheezing, clutching his neck, Jared tried to move. Tom grabbed his arm, pulling him away. He caught the other man under his arms before he fell, and felt him take a heavy breath. His back against Tom’s chest, Tom helped him back to his feet.
Finally catching his breath, Jared looked up, eyes wide. Tom blinked down at him. Those green eyes held something in their depths… Something he couldn’t place…
Then, glaring, Jared pushed him away. Hard. He stumbled backward.
“Don’t touch me, Asshole.” Jared hissed, taking a step back. “I’m fine. I’m a fuckin’ pro. I can handle this.”
Giving his original position a wide girth, Jared continued walking. Tom followed closely. They walked for a long stretch of parking lot, all the way to the diner. Then he stopped and pointed. A ramp, which led to the underground storage unit of the diner. More specifically, its railing.
Jared took a step closer, then stopped.
“There’s blood there. His.”
Tom stopped, staring first at Jared, then at the railing. Then, not knowing what else to do, he took out his cellphone and called the crime lab, telling them to get somebody over there ASAP.
Before he never saw this guy again.
His heart thudded in his chest and he felt like panicking. What the hell is wrong with me… He didn’t get it. He would never get it. Not now, not ever. This was the end. The fucking end. And every time he thought about it, his chest felt a little tighter, and his stomach felt a little sicker…
“Pull over.”
Tom looked at him strangely, his blue eyes lighting with confusion. Jared met his eyes, uncertain of what to say or do. He just knew he had to say something…
Tom pulled off to the side and parked the car. He checked around for any on-coming traffic. At twelve thirty at night? There was none. Then, he turned back to Jared. “What’s up?”
Jared just looked at him, having no clue what to say, and finally saying everything at once. “I hate what you do to me.”
Tom blinked.
“Every time.” Jared heard himself begin. “Every time you fuckin’ look at me. Say my name. Touch me, even if it’s just an accident, I feel like I can’t fuckin’ breathe.”
Tom’s eyes widened.
“And every time! Every Fuckin’ Time! There’s this feeling, like I can’t hold myself still!” His voice was in a harsh whisper; angry at Tom, and himself. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore.
He reached up and cupped his face. Christ, his face. He was an angel. And every fiber in his being was screaming. STOP WAITING! DO SOMETHING BEFORE IT’S OVER!
He moved across to the other side, straddling Tom’s knees, holding the man’s face and staring down into his eyes.
“I’m not waiting anymore.”
And he crushed Tom’s mouth with his own; the most intense kiss he’d ever experienced. The edge melted, and he felt like he was falling. When Tom kissed back, he pulled him closer. He pressed his body against him, unable to keep himself from something he’d needed. For so long, he’d needed this. He had no idea how long. And he knew Tom needed it too, his body finally losing its ice.
Tom’s hands snaked up his back, pressing them together even closer. His tongue swept across his bottom lip, and Jared smiled as the kiss deepened. This was paradise. This was heaven. Maybe that’s why he’d needed it so badly.
He pulled away, lungs hungry for air. Opening his tired eyes, he looked down into Tom’s. He was laughing. Jared blinked.
“What?”
Tom grinned. “You’re here to make my life a living hell, aren’t you?”
Jared sighed, grinning on the inside. “I guess I am. Say goodbye to those peaceful nights.”
“Like I’ll ever miss ‘em?”
Jared laughed, smiling again as Tom pulled him down for another kiss. He’d bet money they wouldn’t last, but Tom always seemed to win anyway.
For Jeoal, and her fantasticfiction. For inkstainedwords, and her perfectly-timed smut. And, for mewbert, whom I feel I must worship now and then. Sorry it's so shoddy, guys. Didn't want to put it off any longer.
