Chapter Text
4 years ago
“You know we can’t help you, right?” The doctor looks him straight in the eyes, forcing Jared to accept the truth behind the words. He doesn’t want to believe it – it can’t be true. Jared fights the tears that press on; he doesn’t want to cry in front of the doctor. What can he do now? Who can help him now, when the doctor can’t? Is there really nothing that can be done?
now
Jensen takes a look around to see if everything is in place before he turns the key and locks the door. The shop isn’t large, but it has tradition and a large place in the locals’ hearts. It’s been there as long as most of the inhabitants can remember, and he wants to make sure that it’ll be a part of this town’s future as well.
A few years ago it was a close call. He was on the verge of closing the business down, and if Danneel hadn't proposed the idea of adding more coffee on the menu, and shifting focus to more sandwiches and less pastry, he doesn’t think they would be where they are today. He had worked with the franchise to set up how much of their selection he could change without breaking the deal they have. He had leased a coffee machine and taken Danneel and himself on a weekend course in coffee-making. They had divided the area of responsibilities, he is in charge of the assortment of baked goods, and Danneel handles the coffee supply. She has tested, added and removed coffee drinks, and today they have a total of seven variations on the menu.
The added caffeine supply, and a selection of affordable sandwiches, had increased the number of students crossing the threshold and the numbers are finally high enough that they can consider hiring more help on Saturdays.
~*~
Jared grabs his bookbag and hurries out the door. He usually gets up early to take a short run before the school, but today he didn’t have time. The alarm didn’t go off this morning, and he is late; late for school, and late in making lunch. To save time he decides not to bring lunch from home, but to grab one at Miranda’s when he gets time. His classes in Business and law ethics start in less than 15 minutes and it takes him 13 minutes to get there. He has classes back to back all day, and he hopes he’ll have time to get some lunch in-between. Hopefully professor Larsson will let them out early today, like he quite often does.
He grabs a banana and an apple from the kitchen, and if he’s lucky, there's still a protein bar in his book bag from a few days ago. That will have to do until later.
~*~
Jensen is about to close the door when he sees Jared Padalecki running to get to the shop before it closes. He stops by the shop at least twice a week to buy the sugary warm milk he calls coffee, and sometimes a sandwich. Often he takes the coffee to go, but if he buys a sandwich, he usually sits and eats his lunch in. He’s nice to talk to, and really funny, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders.
He is studying to become an accountant, if Jensen’s not mistaken.
He doesn’t know Jared well, but they have met a few times at parties here and there, and even talked a bit at a few of them. He has never actually gotten to know him though, even though he has certainly wanted to. Danneel picked up on Jensen's little crush though, teasing him about asking Jared out, but he's just never worked up the courage to do it.
“Sorry, are you closing?” Jared says as Jensen lets go of the door.
“Yeah, but come on in,” Jensen says, not wanting to turn away a loyal costumer, and two, he isn’t about to turn down the opportunity to chat with him, one on one, without other customers or employees around.
“Thank you,” Jared says, stomping the snow off his feet before he steps inside. “I was hoping you had some sandwiches left, I’m starving. I was meaning to get something at lunch, but it's been one of those days, and I haven’t had time to eat since early this morning.”
“Sure.” He goes behind the counter to get out the last 3 sandwiches that hadn't been sold. “I’m afraid the selection isn’t large, but we have one Chiabatta with chicken and curry and 2 baguettes with tuna salad.” He places the trays in front of Jared, knowing well that Jared usually goes for the larger chiabatta sandwich rather than the baguettes.
“Great,” he says, pulling notes out of his wallet. He counts the money and starts chewing on his lower lip. “Listen, I’m short one dollar for the chiabatta, would you mind terribly if I owe you a buck? I can come by tomorrow, first thing, and pay you?”
“Tell you what,” Jensen starts before he can even think it thought, “I’m about to close up, so why don’t you help me collect all the dishes from the tables and sweep the floors, and I’ll give you all the remaining sandwiches for free?” He wants to bang his head in the counter as soon as the words are out of his mouth, not wanting to seem too desperate about spending some more time with him. But he really wants this chance to ask him out. Well, if he can dig up the courage.
Jared's face lights up. "You sure?"
“Sure,” Jensen answers, relieved. “If you don’t eat them, they will just go to waste, and I can do with some help. I’m really hoping to get home early today, so any help is great.”
Jared nods and grabs the tray to collect the dishes from the tables. They work a few minutes in silence. Jensen put the remaining breads and pastries in garbage bags, and fills out the return-sheets to count the unsold goods, before he places it outside by the empty baskets that the delivery guy will collect by the first delivery next morning.
The weather is 14 degrees today, and the cold wind hits him as soon as he opens the door. He could do with a warm cup of coffee before he challenges the weather on his way home.
“Do you want a coffee before I clean the machine and turn it off for the night?" Jensen says as soon as he comes into the shop again,” On the house…”
“Sure,” The Jared smiles and puts the tray on the counter. Finished cleaning the tables, he gets the broom and sweeps the floor before taking a stool at the side bar, where he usually has his lunch.
“Thank you,” Jared says as Jensen hands him his usual; a white chocolate mocha. “Where’s Danneel tonight, I thought she always worked with you on Wednesdays?”
“She used to,” Jensen confirms, “but she needed Wednesdays off. So right now I’m alone, I haven’t found anyone to work Wednesdays with me yet. Until I do, you’ll have to deal with just me on your Wednesday run-ins. I’m looking into hiring more help though, someone to work Saturdays and Wednesdays,” Jensen says and shows him the note he’s taping up at the door when he leaves tonight. “Please tell me if you know anyone looking for a job. It isn’t much, but it does leave time for studying.”
“About that,” Jared says and points to the ad, “what do I do to apply for it?”
“You looking for a job?”
“Yeah, in fact I am,” he smiles.
“Well, why don’t we call this a job interview?” Jensen says, smiling back at him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “Okay Jared, welcome to this job interview.”
~*~
Jared almost bounces on his way home from Miranda’s. He hadn’t expected to walk home with a new job in his pocket. It’s been more than 6 months now since he had to leave the last one. It had been a good job, working in the book shop, but he had too many sick days.
He’s scared he won’t be able to keep this job, either. But how long should he worry about that? How long does he have to be without symptoms before he can say he is well?
He has been in remission for 4 months now. 10 months of remission is the record so far. Who knows, maybe this time it will last forever?
~*~
Jensen smiles when he finally leaves the shop. It was with great relief that he let Jared out the door before he started the job of balancing the register and counting the money for the deposit envelope. It’s been a good day, and the income is still up where it needs to be.
He has a short walk to deposit the money, but the bank's s on his way home. He likes to make the deposit himself, and he used to be the only one doing it. He has never had it easy trusting people, had learned early on that he had to do the work himself if he wanted to accomplish anything. It wasn’t until he collapsed at work one day that Danneel was able to convince him that she could be trusted with the money, so that he didn’t have to work every late shift himself.
It is easier to trust his employees with opening and serving the costumers, but balancing the cash register and handling the money is something he wanted full control of.
Sometimes he thinks it must have been much easier for his grandparents. They had each other, and already had a trust much deeper than a work relationship. They trusted each other with their lives, and shared everything with each other. Everything they did was a combined effort, and that’s why Miranda’s was such a wonderful place for the costumers to come. His grandparents’ love bled into the atmosphere of the shop.
~*~
“You did what, now?” Danneel asks bewildered.
“I hired him.”
“You wanted to ask him out, and you ended up hiring him?”
“Yeah,” Jensen nods.
“Why, I mean, was that… why?”
“He asked, okay, and he’s good for the job, I think.”
“What about…?”
“I couldn’t not hire him because I have a crush on him. I mean, he knew about the job, he wanted it, he’s good for it, was I supposed to say ‘sorry, but I can’t give you the job, because I have a crush on you, and I really want to fuck you and that isn’t smart if we also work together’?”
“So now you forget about him? Pretend you don’t have a crush? A crush, I might remind you, that's been going on for quite some time, now?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you still want to ask him out?”
“I don’t know. Not now. He'll work for me, I'll get to know him better, and I take it from there. But I won’t do anything to risk the job, you know that.”
“I do know that.”
“Yeah. So, I… I just…. I just see what happens, I guess.”
“Yeah, you do that,” she shakes her head and laughs. “My god, Jensen, you never make it easy for yourself.”
~*~
It's three weeks before Jared is working alone in the morning for the first time. The first time, Jensen worked along with him and showed him the ropes. Jared has to be there two hours before the shop opens for business. He pre-heats the ovens first thing, and prepares the baked goods. The Kaiser rolls and whole grain rolls bake while the buns and cinnamon buns are rising in the proofing cabinet.
The second Saturday, Jared had worked with Danneel, and Jensen had worked the last shift of the day.
The day's bread and pastry order was delivered before Jared arrived, and after he puts the Chiabattas into the oven, he arranges the pastries to best advantage in the glass-front display. He racks the bread on the shelves behind the counter before he takes all the empty delivery trays outside the back entrance, for pickup Monday morning. The shop gets two deliveries on weekdays, and the trays will be collected on the first delivery.
Once the Chiabattas are cooled enough, it's time to make the sandwiches--seventy to start with, and then re-filling the display during the day.
Jared is glad to see Danneel, ten minutes before the shop opens, and to show her that all the preparations are done correctly. He hadn’t expected he would love to work here as much as he does, especially working the morning shift. Getting up early in the morning is not a problem for him, he is a morning person, but he hadn't thought he would like the solitude. He is a social person, he loves to talk and entertain. So the thought of working two hours totally alone to get everything ready for opening didn’t sound like something he would enjoy. But he does. He likes filling up the empty display counters with food for customers to buy, and he loves watching the pastries being transformed from pale and frozen lumps of dough to golden treats to serve the customers.
He likes to see the shop waking up every morning, from turning on the lights to heating up the ovens, brewing the first cup of coffee, and opening the front door to let the people in. He, it turns out, loves to work in a customer service job.
~*~
On Wednesdays Jared works alongside Jensen. He starts just before lunch hour, and gets off work when Jensen closes the shop. He helps Jensen tidy everything up, but goes home when Jensen balances the register.
“Are you serious?” Jared gapes at Jensen one Wednesday, when there is finally a little break in the waves of students coming in for lunch. “For real?”
“Yes, for real!”
“You have never played guitar hero?”
“No, I have never played guitar hero.”
“Dude!”
“What?”
He can’t believe it. He thought everyone had done that. “Oh, you have to try. I don’t mind which pile I have to dig it out of, I haven’t played it in a while, but you are trying guitar hero. Damn, what rock have you been living under?”
“I’ve had plenty of more important things to do – like keeping this shop alive so that you can have some place to actually work, instead of playing videogames. And when I say work, I mean actually work, not mocking your boss!”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jared laughs and holds his hand up in defeat. “No more mocking. But you and I, we have a date with guitar hero - tonight, after you’ve closed up.”
~*~
It's not until he’s on his way home he realizes what short notice he’s given himself to clean the place up before his guest arrives. Thank god he's usually pretty tidy.
~*~
Jensen arrives carrying a pizza and a six-pack of beer.
“Hey,” Jared says, opening the door. “Come on in.”
“I come bearing gifts,” Jensen says and hands Jared the pizza. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Always,” Jared says and laughs, “I ate three sandwiches the first time we met. That should have tipped you off.”
Jensen looks around the apartment. It’s rather small but with an open living room-kitchen area that makes the space feels wide. While the entrance side of the building faced a concrete wall, with train tracks just on the other side of the wall, the view from the living room is to die for.
From the living room window Jensen has a view toward the marina, empty of boats now, the water partially frozen. To the left of the marina he can see the riverside walk toward the town center, though from here the view is obscured by the large building of the university library.
“What a view,” Jensen says and keeps watching.
“Yeah, it’s quite something,” Jared says, coming up beside him. "I can lose myself in that view sometimes. Never expected to have a view of the bay while I'm studying, but the rent is actually not that bad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, having the tracks just a few feet away, close enough to shake the building every time a train passes, kind of lowers the price. I don’t mind much. I'm hardly home during the day, and I can sleep through anything. There’s only a couple of trains that pass during the night.”
“Sweet.”
~*~
Jared's smiling when he goes to bed. He had a great time with Jensen today, playing guitar hero into the wee hours. They had played and smiled and laughed, and ended up talking about anything and everything. He learned that Jensen grew up in Texas, a middle child with an older brother and younger sister, just like himself.
When Jared asked why he took on the job of managing the pastry shop, Jensen said it was what his grandma would have wanted him to do. He told Jared how he had worked day and night the first few years, just to break even. How he had organized the shop's entire inventory, repaired and updated the interior to make it more modern. He explained how he had roped Danneel into sharing the project with him, and how he was determined never to give up on his shop. He told him how happy he is, now that he's found his dream, and how lucky he feels, that he's able to do what he loves. And how happy he is that Jared wanted the job, and that he's very pleased how well Jared's doing.
Jared smiled to himself, glad that the shop had brought Jensen to this part of the country, because Jared had to admit to himself that he is starting to have feelings for his boss. And that thought scares him more than he will admit. That’s another reason not to let Jensen down.
~*~
“So, Jared,” Jensen says. The shop is almost empty, and the few customers are sitting far away from the counter, all engaged in their own conversations. “Mind me asking why you are only on your second year of college?”
Jared hates that question, even if it’s a fair one. He always tries to avoid it. “I guess I just needed time to find out what I really wanted to do,” he says, bending the truth a bit further than one probably should. He has used this line for a long time now though, so he doesn’t even bat an eye any more before saying it.
Six years earlier, he had faced his first episode of vomiting. The first day he fell ill, he thought had probably eaten something bad, maybe the kebab on the way home from the concert the night before.
The second time, though, he hadn’t had anything unusual to eat in a few days. And the third time, he started noticing a pattern.
Halfway through the second semester, he had at least one sick day every week, and by the end of the first year, he realized that unless this vomiting ended, he would not be able to get through school. He had to stop studying long enough to get this under control, so that he didn’t end up paying for a full education, without actually graduating.
The next two years were spent trying to keep a job, but losing too many of them because he was out sick too often. Thankfully, his parents had always made sure he had good health insurance, and in the end he ended up receiving a temporarily disability benefit, one that lasted until he had been in his first remission for more than five months and was considered well by the insurance company's criteria.
It had been nearly three years before he got to that point.
The truth was, he spent much of that time thinking about what he really wanted. He had decided early on that he wanted to be a teacher. It had always been his dream. He was truly inspired by his mom, and the way she had always talked about how wonderful it was to shape young minds.
That dream was crushed when he was eighteen, though, when he realized that a job where you need to be on top of lessons and your students' progress, as well as being aware of problems keeping them from doing their best, all the time, was more demanding than he could manage.
Burying one dream was tough. But it turned out he didn’t have to look far for a second dream, he could just look to his other parent. His dad’s job is definitely not the most inspiring in the world, accounting usually isn't. But Jared had always loved numbers, and being an accountant was not farfetched for him. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. He had numerous conversations with his father about working as an accountant from home. His dad has started his own company with a friend more than thirty years ago. Some people might think it a cop-out to choose your career with the safety in knowing you could always work for your dad’s company, and schedule your workday around your health issues. Jared calls it being realistic, and a consequence of being ill.
“Fair enough,” Jensen says. “I never could decide myself, and before I knew it, I had a pastry shop, and that was it.”
~*~
Jensen hadn’t planned to take over his grandparents’ business. Nothing was further from his thoughts. In fact, he was flirting with the idea of becoming a physical therapist, but he hadn’t yet decided for sure.
He started helping granny in the shop to earn and save up some money for school, and had just--stayed on. She refused to retire, even though she deserved some peace and quiet in her old age. But she would have none of that, she said, and as long as she was the boss, no one could make her retire. More than likely though, Jensen knew, it was in the shop where she felt closest to his grandpa.
Grandpa Mike had started the shop in the mid-fifties, with only a few bucks in his pocket, but more than enough talent, and determination to build a business. His goal in life was to secure a future for his wife and their two young children. Jensen’s mom had been a newborn, and her older brother about to start his first year in school. Times were tough for a young family.
He knew that there was a family history of heart disease, and he also recognized the early signs of it. They weren't severe enough that he expected a near death, but they were enough to prevent him getting insurance coverage. Instead of letting it get him down, he worked methodically to build a business that would provide for his family, should he not live to do so himself.
Thanks to good luck, he did live to see his children grow up. He lived to see his grandchildren born, as well. Jensen vividly remembers his grandfather. He also remembers his death at age fifty-seven. Jensen was seven, the day grandpa Mike passed away.
Grandma Miranda didn’t let her Mike’s death stop her from continuing his work. The shop closed the day he died, and the day after, and even a few hours the day of his funeral. Other than that, the shop has never been closed on a normal working day. Not until Miranda herself died, suddenly, at the age of sixty-eight.
Suddenly the shop was without an owner, and the family was unsure what to do. Neither Jensen’s mom nor her brother, his Uncle Jim, lived close by, and neither of them, or their spouses, had any interest in taking over the business. They had their own careers and lives, miles away. Jensen was the only one among the children and grandchildren that had ever worked in the shop and he was also the only one not currently studying or working elsewhere.
They asked Jensen to move temporarily, and run the shop until they could find a permanent solution. He was only eighteen at the time, far from old enough for such a responsibility. But he knew that he had his family’s support.
What he found when he arrived was a shock.
Instead of the healthy business they all believed it was, he found the shop on the verge of bankruptcy, despite what looked to be an adequate income. It only took him a few weeks to track the money leak. It turned out that a disloyal employee had embezzled cash from the register for years. An employee Miranda had trusted with the bookkeeping had been embezzling for years, siphoning funds from the shop into his own pocket. He had taken brazen advantage of an old woman's faith in him, and one of the first tasks Jensen had to do as a business owner was to sack someone twice his age, who had worked there for years. Though it was difficult, it made him realize that putting the shop first was something he would like to do. He wanted to save this shop.
He only meant to stay until the business was profitable again, and then hire a manager who could take care of running it. Instead, the desire to build it up again was kindled. He had long conversations with his family before he made up his mind, but when he reached his decision, he was one hundred percent determined on what he wanted to do. He used the money that had been earmarked for his education, now he'd decided not to go to college, and the small business loan the bank granted him, to buy the shop from his mom and uncle. During the first couple of years, when the shop’s profits were balancing close to zero, he could only afford one employee, and he only took out a meager salary for himself.
Danneel was the only one from his grandmother’s staff who stayed. And he needed her help. He sat her down one day and laid out his plans for the shop for her. He told her that he would start the business from scratch, that with new capital, and eventually new staff, he would breathe life into his grandfather’s dream again. But to do this, he needed her help. He offered her 20% of his business against her willingness to work hard, for long hours, and for hardly any money, until they started showing a real profit.
As the shop's profits increased, he could hire more help, and today, twelve years later, he has a blooming business, and a business partner he trusts with his life.
~*~
“Why don’t you ask him out?” Danneel asks Jensen. The day has been busy, with customers in and out all day, until it suddenly calmed down about an hour before closing. Tuesdays aren't usually this busy, and they had not been prepared for the rush. Danneel had run back and forth to keep up with the coffee orders, and Jared had stayed for almost two hours to help out when he came in for his usual lunch sandwich, when he realized how heavy the customer traffic was. “He’s an employee,” Jensen says as he busses tables. He had tried to clear them continually throughout the day, but with the constant demand for service at the counter, they had kept falling behind. “Didn’t we talk about this when I hired him?”
“Yes, yes - I know, but I don’t see your crush disappearing any time soon.”
“It will just make it awkward if it doesn’t work out.”
“It won’t come to that,” Danneel shakes her head.
“You don’t know that. No one can guarantee that.”
“No you’re right, no one can promise that. But I know you!”
Jensen opens his mouth to deny, but Danneel interrupts him before he has the chance to answer. “I’m gonna say this, because I know you are too polite to. You handled me perfectly. You knew that I had a crush on you, and you let me down so easily. You gave me space and you gave me time to get over you, and you never let me feel like a fool, and you did that because that’s how you are!”
“But that’s….”
“No! It doesn’t matter. I know that that was different, but the point still is that you don’t let things get awkward. If things don’t work out between Jared and you, then you will handle it, I know that. I trust you, and I trust Jared. Neither of you will let things get weird. Both of you have too much respect for each other to do that.”
“But,” Jensen starts to say, but stops as Danneel raises her index finger to shut him up.
“Listen, Jensen. You wouldn’t even consider this if you didn’t really like him. Just the fact that you even think about it is proof that you've got it bad for him. You can’t deny it.”
“No, you’re right.”
“And I know that if you start something with Jared, you will be careful, because you wouldn’t want to risk anything.”
He can only nod again. She is right.
“So even if you do take a small risk asking him out, it’s gonna be worth it. He can be the one for you. Wouldn't it be sad to miss out on that, just because you're afraid it will be a bit awkward for a little while if it doesn’t work out?”
“You are such a romantic.”
“No, I’m realistic. I know that potential boyfriends don’t show up all the time, and I know that it almost never fits into your plans. So I say go for it when you have the chance. I don’t want to have to invite you over for dinner every Christmas when you’re an old grumpy man, just because you never took the chance at love. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
~*~
It takes Jensen another four weeks before he finds the courage to ask Jared out. It’s Jared’s last week of summer vacation before school starts again. He has spent hours in the shop, either working extra hours when the other part-time students have gone home for the break, or simply sat at the side bar chatting with Jensen while Jensen at least pretended to get some work done.
It is pretty obvious to both of them, that they are willingly flirting. Yet, neither of them has taken that first step. It feels scary crossing that line. Making up his mind to actually say the words is like pulling off a bandaid, very slowly. “Here we go,” he says to himself, finishing Jared’s excuse for a coffee. He has already given him his sandwich and the sounds of enjoyment Jared makes while eating it shouldn’t be legal. Jensen sets the cup in front of him and asks, as casually he can, if it would be awfully strange if they had dinner together.
“Dinner, as in a date?” Jared asks, almost forgetting his sandwich for a minute. Jensen added his extra onions though, so there is no way Jared could completely ignore it. Not even when being asked out by his boss.
“That was the thought,” Jensen says, hoping he hasn’t read the signals wrong and just screwed up their working relationship and their growing friendship.
Jared takes another bite, chewing before he nods and mumbles something that could be interpreted as a yes.
“Was that a yes? And haven’t you learned not to speak with your mouth full of food?”
“Yes,” Jared nods again.
“Yes, you want to go out with me? Or yes, you have learned not to speak with your mouth full of food?” Jensen asks. “Strike that, you have clearly not learned not to speak with your mouth full, so that was a yes to going out with me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Jared laughs, and throws his head back. “And I have learned not to speak with my mouth full, I just choose just to ignore it now and then.”
~*~
Danneel is working the last shift, and Jensen is on his way to his first date with Jared. Not for the first time, Jensen doubts his decision on asking Jared out.
~*~
Jared feels butterflies in his belly. It’s been a long time since he was on a date, especially with a guy he likes as well as Jensen. Going out with the boss is probably not the best idea, but he's willing to throw caution to the wind, because…well, because it’s Jensen.
~*~
Jensen picks him up just before six. Jared opens the door to the sight of Jensen dressed in dark blue jeans, a green button down, and dark sunglasses. Jared wants to go straight up and kiss him, but he settles for a smile and a hello. He locks his apartment door and they walk down the two flights of stairs to the street.
“Thought I might take you to the farmer’s market,” Jensen says, and tilts his head. “I’ve got hickory smoked pulled bbq beef in the slow cooker at home, and thought maybe we could pick up some fruit, maybe berries, for dessert. What do you think?”
“Love it,” Jared says and smiles. His mouth waters by the thought. “God, it’s been a long time since I tasted pulled beef. What kind of sauce did you use?”
“I started with some barbeque sauce, mixed in some apple cider vinegar, Worchestershire sauce, and threw in some spices--garlic powder, Dijon mustard--I can’t really remember everything now. But I hope you like it…”
“I’m sure I will. It sounds wonderful. Do you mind if I bring some wine to go with it? It's just inside.”
“Sure,” Jensen says and stops to wait.
“Be right back,” Jared says, and runs back up the steps, while Jensen waits at the front door of the building. The wine was a gift from his brother last Christmas, an exclusive bottle of wine. But Jared hadn’t had a good occasion to open it, until now.
“Got it,” he holding up the bottle when he rejoins Jensen downstairs.
Jensen takes it and looks at the label; it’s a California Merlot. "Nice," he says.
Jared hopes so, he doesn’t really know much about wine.
~*~
It’s been six weeks since he and Jensen had their first date, and things have moved along great since then.
They had gone to the farmers' market. They had eaten and drunk wine, and as the night progressed, they had cuddled and kissed. They had taken things slowly, neither of them wanting to risk their friendship, or their working relationship, but they had taken it so they knew both of them were on the same page, and neither stepped over a line they couldn't go back from.
They were happy.
Since the first date, they have been on three more, and they spend more and more time talking, texting, or just spending time together.
Sometimes they spend time at Jared’s place, watching TV or making out, and sometimes they're at Jensen’s.
Jared would say life is perfect.
~*~
Jensen's aware of Jared sweeping the floor while he's counting the money in the cash register. Since they started dating, Jared's taken to staying until Jensen is finished balancing the register, and then walks with him to the bank's night deposit. Balancing the register while Jared tidies up the shop saves him time, compared to waiting to balance out until Jared left the shop. It isn’t much, no more than 15 minutes, but those 15 minutes are golden. It doesn’t hurt, either, that he gets to spend that time with his boyfriend.
He is comfortable with the thought now, that he and Jared are boyfriends. They haven’t really talked about it, what label they should put on the relationship, but he knows that they are on the same page. It’s easy, much easier than he would have thought. None of his fears have come true. It isn’t awkward at work and they don’t seem to have trouble balancing their private and work lives. He has never been put on the spot where there’s a conflict between being Jared's boyfriend, and his employer. But if he ever was, he is confident that he and Jared would work it out.
“Are you ready to leave?” He asks Jared as he closes the register drawer and keys it off. He has collected all the money, filled in the form, and zipped it all in the deposit envelope. All that's left to do is turn off the lights and walk out of the shop. Floor swept, garbage collected and put out for pickup in the morning, and everything in place, Jared answers, "Yeah, I'm ready."
It isn’t until Jensen has locked the door behind them, and they've left the shop behind that he lets his hand slip into Jared’s. It’s time to be boyfriends again.
~*~
It’s a Tuesday morning when Jared wakes up feeling the far too familiar piercing pain in the belly and his back.
The band of pain tightens around his upper midline, spreads as though his belly is on fire, stabbing like a knife in his back. When he sits up, the belches come too hard and loud to stifle, and the foul taste and stench of rotten eggs make him want to vomit. Saliva floods his mouth, and the tingling in the jaw joint warns him that nausea is imminent.
He gets up on shaky legs and runs to the bathroom, grabbing the boxes of medication from the cabinet. He drops a couple of the boxes and curses when they roll underneath the sink. He doesn’t have the time to waste. He kneels to reach the boxes, and gets out the disposable glasses he keeps in the cabinet for crises like this. He fills a glass with water, but his gorge rises before he can even open the first box of medication. The water glass falls as he reaches to fling up the toilet seat, and he vomits violently: once twice, and a third time, before he can breathe again. He wipes his mouth with a wad of toilet tissue, flushing the toilet with his other hand, desperately trying to get rid of the awful smell. He braces his arms on the toilet rim and leans his head on his shaking arms. The nausea's not done with him, he doesn’t have much time. His legs are shaking when he retrieves the bucket from the hall closet and sets it in the shower, turning on the faucet and using the hand shower to get water into the bucket. The bottom at least is covered when his belly starts to burn. He turns off the faucet, but winces when the handset hits the shower floor. He lifts the bucket out, but has to set it down quickly, just managing to get his boxers down in time to get his butt on the toilet before the diarrhea starts. He has to lean forward and stretch to grab the bucket, holding it in his arms so he can retch into it while his bowels void at the same time. Snot and tears mix with the vomit, and the familiar heavy knot of dread settle in his belly.
He can’t go through this again.
~*~
The next 30 minutes are spent either in front of the toilet or on it, with the bucket clutched to his chest. He makes horrible noises and his body feels like it's being turned inside out. He hates puking in the bucket, it makes the smell even worse. After the first wave of diarrhea eased, he was able to run more water in the bucket, empty it all out, and half-fill it again, so both the vomit and the smell would be diluted. That at least reduces the stench to a manageable level.
After about three quarters of an hour, his stomach is finally empty, and it's been the required fifteen minutes of no active vomiting he needs to take the meds.
The first thing he grabs is the anti-emetic. He pours three Zofran pills out in his hand and swallows them down with as little water as possible. The taste of water will make him sick again, and he needs to not vomit until all the medications take effect. The next box is Imodium, to stop the diarrhea, and then simeticon to dissolve the stomach gas that causes the foul sulphur burps.
He pops a couple of Tramadol into his mouth, along with ibuprofen that will hopefully work until the opioids take effect in a couple of hours. He grabs the antacid as well, and checks to see he hasn’t forgotten anything. When he's sure that he's remembered all the medication, he steps into the shower and turns on the water.
He turns the dial to warm, and then to warmer, then starts the process of laying himself down on the floor. The design of this shower cubicle was the deciding factor when he looked at apartments to rent, and he chose a large shower and a rather small livingroom, over a larger apartment with just a small shower. The need to lie down on the floor with the warm water flowing across his belly is significant to his recovery, and he wouldn’t live in an apartment where he couldn’t lie down in the shower.
Once he’s down on the floor, he wiggles his butt close enough to the wall to place his feet flat on the wall, with his hips and knees in a 90 degree angle. This lets the discs in his back settle into place, and eases the pain in his back. He grabs the shower head and places it on his belly. The water that was left on the floor when he filled the bucket earlier is cold and uncomfortable to lie in, and he swipes the shower head across himself and the floor to replace it with warm water. He also soaks his hair with water so that his hair feels saturated, and won’t gradually soak up water, something he finds strangely uncomfortable.
The feeling of warm water pouring over his belly is heavenly. The pain subsides, and he feels his tense body relax under the heat. After about five minutes, it's pure bliss when the nausea starts to ebb. He lies there until the water starts to feel cold, and then leans up on one elbow to turn the dial to even warmer water. After about 5 more minutes he feel sleep getting closer, and he starts preparing to leave the shower. He dreads the moment the water is turned off, scared that the pain will knock him down again. He sits up and breathes out slowly, relieved when no sulphur burps emerge. He turns off the water, and holds his breath when the cold air hits him. The pain level rises from a grade 1 on the pain scale, to a 3, but it doesn’t rise higher than that. It’s far from the 7 that it reached, earlier.
He grabs the hot water bottles he keeps in the cabinet under the sink, and prays that there's enough warm water left to fill them both. He turns the water to max warm, and doesn’t care about the warning label on the bottle about too warm water in the bottles. He can already see that he has a bruise the size of his palm forming on his belly from the warm water in the shower. A hot water bottle won’t do more damage than that.
As he falls into bed, he sends a thankful thought to the doctor who finally believed him. Now he can hope for hours of sleep.
~*~
Today he was lucky. He slept for nearly 5 hours before the pain woke him again.
~*~
Jared finally gets out of bed around the time he normally would come home from school. The pain is gone, no more nausea, no more vomiting or diarrhea, and finally he is hungry, very hungry. His hands are shaking, and he feels like he’s about to faint. He needs energy, and he needs it now. His body is dehydrated and he needs something to drink right this minute. Coke, he wants coke, but he doesn’t have any. He grabs a glass and fills it with water, and stirs in a spoonful of sugar. It would be better if the water was warm enough to dissolve the sugar, but he doesn’t have time for the faucet to run hot. He swallows it down, fills it up again, and swallows it all down again. Finally, he can feel the sugar kicking in and he’s no longer on the verge of passing out. Now he’ll have energy enough to make a sandwich. Gone are the particular ways he makes the sandwiches at work. He grabs what he can find, puts it together, and inhales, more than chews it. He doesn’t take time tasting it, his belly is painfully empty. He eats four and a half sandwiches before he feels full. Then it’s time for a shower - a good one this time - one standing up.
Exhausted, he grabs his cellphone and opens the calendar. He flips through the months, finding his way back to the last day he had an episode. “Damn,” he says, “I was 6 days away from a new record.”