Work Text:
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To be honest, he didn’t exactly know why he was doing this.
To make Jesse feel better? To not go back to his condo alone? To make himself feel better?
++
To Jesse, Walter said maybe later.
His place was emptied late in the evening, and Skyler was at the door, the satisfaction on her face fading to concerned unease while being reminded of her husband’s black eye.
“Hey, what do you say I see the kids before dinner? I’ll drive.” Walter suggested while Skyler took her first step away from his doorstep.
She hovered, glancing at the quaint suburban neighborhood behind her. Lit up street lights lining the edges of the road buzzed while cold winds brushed past the two and any lone passerbyers.
“It’s already so late. I wouldn’t want you driving in the middle of the night for what amounts to a few hours. Let’s call it a day, Walt.”
He waved his hand, brushing it off. “No, it’s really no trouble, it’s practically down the street.”
“It’s fine.” She said, turning her heels, lightly hitting the pavement while walking towards her Jeep.
Walter quickened his steps, circling around his wife with a type of urgency. Or impatience. “Skyler, we had an agreement. I see Holly and Junior every night, that was the deal, no?”
Her hand paused over the car door handle, looking at Walter incredulously. “I never made a deal with you. I just-I just don’t want the kids to worry about whatever you’re doing on your business trips.”
“Oh, so that's what this is about? I told you, I’m safe, it was simply a minor disagreement. I’m their father for Christ sake, I should see them!” His voice grew into an angered shout nearing the end, the silence following afterwards becoming deafening.
Walt’s face softened in hastened regret, quieting himself to a polite, familiar, murmur. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it's just,” a sharp exhale escaped him, “I worry about them sometimes.”
Skyler held onto the strap on her bag hanging on her shoulder. “Then it shouldn’t matter too much, right? If you really aren’t in danger?”
Walter’s calmer exterior faltered for a moment, having a weaker grasp on his emotions due to the impending threats Gus was hinting at.
“Come on. We’re going to run a business together and soon enough, I’ll be back home. Let’s just put this behind us, okay?”
He hoped that his wife would back down from that, especially soon after their reunion from their almost divorce, but he should’ve known better from more than a decade of experience. This was not the time for this.
“I worry that this will follow us back home and it’s bigger than we can handle.”
“You know you stress over things too much. Let me drive you home.” Walter moved closer and placed a hand over Skyler’s, which was now pressed against the car’s side, inches away from the handle.
He smelt traces of cigarette smoke still clinging to her clothes. Walter crinkled his nose a little, vexation seeping into him. He didn’t understand why she continued to use such things.
Skyler’s lips twitched in a slight smile, an indication that she still reserved some distant warmer feelings for her husband, but it wasn’t enough.
“Goodnight, Walt.”
She opened the door herself and shut it. Walter watched her with chagrined eyes as she pulled out of the street in front of his house and drove away. Alone.
So, that’s what started it.
Walter pulled out his 2nd cell phone and called Jesse.
“How about now?”
++
Walter didn’t pick up Jesse at his house, but he was at an equally loud, filthy and populated area. He was somewhere in a crowd scattered around a booming nightclub, with many of its colourful partygoers sitting on the deteriorating steps and smoking. Jesse strayed from the groups of people, walking towards Walt's car with his hands dug deep into his pockets.
Inside it’s, expectantly, very awkward. Of course it is, they rarely interact with each other outside work–for good reason. But on this night, Walt’s entertaining Jesse for a moment.
The younger man tried to make small talk, restlessly observing the car whiz past shimmer city lights and various buildings. It did nothing to alleviate the suffocating atmosphere that the older man practically sunk himself in.
“Can’t you turn on the radio or something? ‘S not like we’re doing anything in here.” Jesse asked, reaching a shaky tattooed hand towards the knob.
Walter nudged it away with his elbow, saying, “Leave it be.”
The Albuquerque Go Karting Center passed right by them, quickly obscured by the busy streets.
“Mr. White? What are you doing?” Jesse asked, his eyes following the dwindling size of the center long left behind them.
“Did you actually think I would go there? Be serious.”
“So, what, now you think you can take me anywhere?”
Walt, irritated, opened his mouth to explain his reasoning, but settled on something easier, nicer.
“How about we go to a bar?”
Jesse slumped into his seat, mumbling something about how Walter ‘should've said it earlier’ before vaguely accepting it. He was much more agreeable than usual. No, that wasn’t exactly it. Compliant.
He kept driving.
++
Soft yellow and orange lighting soaked the interior of the quiet bar, sleek counters and abandoned glasses gleaming bright under it. It was a bit more classier than the bars Walter used to find himself stumbling in when he used to actively go, but the novelty was welcome. The few people that were sitting around Jesse and Walt shared a similar appearance to the latter man, middle aged men staring their sullen eyes down into their nearly finished glasses. They seemed to keep to themselves and suck up the warm atmosphere surrounding them, leaving it dull and bleak.
“-You see, most of the places I’ve been to have more patrons. More of a diverse range, after all it's a spot where people meet other new people. But yet, if you look around you, what do you see?” Walt asked midway his one-way conversation, pivoting his stool to face Jesse.
The younger man shrugged, looking completely lost. His feet were still planted to the ground, making it look like he was ready to stand up and leave, given the chance. But Walt knew he wouldn’t.
“Come on. Look around.” He implored, gesturing with a hand to the environment surrounding him.
Jesse sighed and made a half-hearted attempt to find whatever Walter was talking about. “Uh, I don’t know, guys? Why are you even talking about this?”
Jesse, inattentive as always, hadn’t noticed it yet.
“Notice the rings on their fingers. Married fathers, alone, drinking in bars. And why’s that,” Walter took a sip from his own glass, swallowing bitterly, “because they are utterly unappreciated.”
The younger man’s features contorted into glaring disinterest, too preoccupied with his own issues.
“And I know it’s difficult for people to understand, so despite this we still take the brunt of it because at the end of day, everything would collapse without us. My own family is able to live comfortably because of my sacrifice, and I accept that—but it is crucial for them to not overlook that fact too much.”
And he knew that Walter had a tendency to ramble when he was under the influence, usually that would result in the man expressing remorse over his actions, like when they were stranded in the desert or when Jesse drugged him. But this vaguely inappropriate discussion that Walt was having with him felt different, like instead of hearing the faint mumblings of guilt stricken man, it was taking on a harsher tone, sour and sharp. Jesse stood more upright, appearing more uncomfortable to Walt.
“I’ve done so much for my family. But I can’t go to my house to see my own children. Not yet, anyway. Strictly temporary. It’s just that they don’t seem to care at all. As if all the work I’ve put into this can be-can be easily disregarded.”
Jesse twists his seat from side to side for a second, before speaking, strenuously gathering up the few remnants of sympathy he still had towards the man to make him shut up. “Mr. White, I’m sure they’ll warm up soon.”
Walter emptied his glass and let it hit the counter softly.
He slowly turned his stool towards the other man, narrowing his eyes. “And what about you, hm? Are you grateful for everything I’ve done for you, Jesse?”
The man’s focus shifted to some vague object in the distance as if Walter wasn’t addressing him directly. “I mean, we barely managed to survive that whole ordeal with Gus by the skin of our teeth. But we have a place to work and a solid flow of revenue, indefinitely. After all the things I had to do, to pull off—we’re not here because of that man’s mercy, make no mistake, it was because of the things we did.”
Jesse winced. The events of Gale’s murder were starting to clearly affect him more, easily noticed by Walt because the man was so easy to read.
“All of the lengths I had to go to keep us alive. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t get to those gangbangers first. You’re grateful for that, right?” His words hardened themselves into a rough and demanding tone at the end, but Jesse still saw him as some rambling elderly man who needed to be ignored.
“Yeah, I am,” a passing bartender walked over to them and refilled Walter’s glass, “and, hey, I think you’ve had enough.”
A sheen of concern brightened Jesse’s eyes, but it was quickly snuffed out by his own preformative apathy.
Walter lowered his voice. “Listen. I know…doing this wasn’t easy.”
The younger man instantly tensed up, his chest rising and falling through shallow breaths. An opportunity presented itself.
“And I am truly sorry that I put you in that situation. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”
“Shut up.” He croaked.
Jesse remained in his seat, digging his nails into his skin. Walter thumbed his hand over his glass, taking one last sip of his liquor.
“But it was something that had to be done. Would you rather have us killed?”
Tired eyes met Walter’s own. Jesse knew the answer was no.
“You can’t agonize over this forever, son. It’s not going to help you. Whatever you’re hiding from won’t be fixed with parties or cigarettes.”
The familial nickname slipped out of Walt’s mouth, but he supposed it would be beneficial in this case. He didn’t want Jesse to crack under the pressure and leave the meth business, especially not now. Gus was bound to come out of hiding and take drastic actions against them. Whatever message he left with killing Victor, Walter had to find out and figure out how to get Gus out of the picture faster than he could. If he was going to weaken the two by monitoring them on cameras and having his employees follow their every move, the last thing the man wanted was to be alone in those circumstances. He needed Jesse. If the situation turned out unfavourable, he risked losing all his leverage.
“We practically didn’t have a choice.” He rested a palm on his shoulder, the gesture going largely unacknowledged.
Jesse shot him another one of his worn out glances, unconvinced. His arms tucked under themselves, clearly defensive.
“You did the thing that was necessary, and that’s-and that’s all I ask. Understand?”
Walter emphasized his words by giving the other man a squeeze. “Jesse?”
He saw the blue in his eyes turn bleary before he lowered his head, searching for something in his pockets. A cigarette was pulled out and placed between his lips. The older man scoffed. Wasn’t he listening to anything he was saying?
“What are you doing? You can’t smoke in here, there’s a sign.” Walt said instead.
Jesse discarded it and rubbed his face, his hand becoming more jittery from the memories playing in his head, apparent from the troubled expression on his face. Walt felt a pang. It was collateral damage, being somewhat inevitable that he would be affected by this, but he didn’t like seeing him in this state. He was quieter and his brash and eager disposition had all but faded. He used to be so full of life, and it was partly Walter’s fault that it decayed so quickly.
“I’m sorry,” He offered as consolation, half sure whether he really meant it at this point.
A choked noise escaped Jesse as Walter’s hand slid to the middle of his back, letting the physical touch get to him. The older man mused on a fleeting observation on how much space his palm took up on Jesse’s body, already leaning into his warmth. He rubbed his back slowly as Jesse silently turned his face away from Walt, trembling in surges he knew all too well came from him crying.
“Jesse…” Walter mumbled, letting his other hand touch him.
It had been a while since he’d been allowed to do this.
The rare times where Walt and Jesse were physically close, it was when they’re frustrated with each other, throwing punches and grappling at the other. But ever since Jane died, there had been a new dynamic introduced into their relationship. Suddenly, Jesse depended on Walter and looked for guidance from him, completely changing what type of influence the older man had over him. There were little glimpses here and there that Jesse seeked reassurance from Walter, but there never was a moment so clear as when he clung to him in that drug den. Not even his own son would cry in his arms the way Jesse abjectly did that day.
In that moment, underneath the pervasive guilt and horror of the place he put Jesse in, he distinctly felt paternal, and from that emotion, created a sense of importance. Like Jesse’s past words had flipped, and he finally needed him more than he did. There was also an undeniable rush, a thrill coming from having him so reliant on him, that it must’ve been the reason why Walt was aroused by it. It seemed like Jesse was the one who gave Walter the chance to be in charge and in turn, Walt was able to provide the comfort he desperately craved. The more it happened, the more it strayed further from simple awareness and to a physical mutual unspoken agreement. The thing about Jesse was that, unlike a lot of things in his life, Walt could have both.
Walter’s other hand went to Jesse’s thigh, while the other travelled to his neck. His reassuring touches might have crossed into the suggestive, but it was difficult to tell when he was getting no reaction. He slithered his hand on his stubbled chin, jaw, then cheek, trying to coax him to look his way. Jesse’s breathing had slowed by then, turning his head slowly to reveal a puzzled expression with watery eyes. No fallen tears.
The stool creaked slightly with Walt leaning in, sliding his hand further down Jesse’s leg as he pressed his lips against his. It was close lipped and dry. Jesse shook away from his grasp and pushed a palm on Walter’s chest.
“Yo, you’re drunk.”
His hands repositioned themselves to Jesse’s sides, moving the two closer. “Barely.”
Their brief connection was quickly broken by more protest.
“Are you fucking crazy? We’re in public.” Jesse said in a biting but hushed tone, looking around the bar to illustrate his point.
Walt knew nobody was looking at them, nor cared if they were. He kissed him with more force, nearly knocking off his glasses and breaking past his pursed lips and into his mouth. A small, alarmed noise was muffled by Walter slipping in his tongue. He tasted salty and warm, his saliva more viscous. It was a little hindrance with Jesse squirming around, but a part of him enjoyed it. Sometimes it was dull when it was a simple kiss. Adrenaline spiked in Walter, a rush of chemicals flooding his senses, filling him with excitement. The man had an idea that the reason he was behaving this way was because of the way fear interacted with his lust, which worsened it significantly. When this happened with his wife, it terrified her, but with Jesse, he’d let him. There would be struggle at the start, pretending to argue, but he’d eventually come around.
Jesse was starting to reciprocate and still his movements, making tiny moans pressed into the other’s lips. Walter’s hand ran through the back of Jesse’s head, tufts of choppy chestnut hair slipping in and out of his fingers.
“Good, son, that’s good,” Walter murmured to Jesse the moment they separated to catch their breaths.
He supposed that this was easier than other times because Jesse was deeply affected by what he did to Gale, it wasn’t something that he could forgive himself for, because it couldn’t be.
But it had shown his loyalty, the measures he would take. He started to seem lost, but with a bit of guidance, he could have him in his grasp for good. He could be reassured that he did the right thing with Gale and that he’s been giving the valuable support that Walt can’t get from his family, even if those messages weren’t necessarily true.
A chime of a mobile phone broke the concentration of the two men, disbelief appearing to sink in for Jesse as he shrunk away, wrapping himself in his arms as if he’d been hurt. Walter dug in his vibrating pocket and snapped open his flip phone.
“I have to take this.” Walt said while sliding off of Jesse, swiftly exiting the bar.
It was Skyler. Walter stood in the telephone booth outside, holding his phone close to his ear in the colder enclosed space.
“Yes?” He asked, his voice echoing a bit.
“Hey. So I’ve been going over our story and doing some thinking. We need to make sure that every part of it is perfect, right? So, um…”
Silence flooded both sides of the call.
“Skyler?” Walt asked after a moment, taking a look over his shoulder for any onlookers in the now pitch dark.
His wife sighed, reluctance entwined with her words. “You can stay. For tonight, at least. I think it’ll fit our story better.”
“Oh, alright.”
“I mean, you can come tomorrow, the offer still stands, I know how late it is.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be there.” Walt replied, still waving his hand in the air despite the fact that Skyler couldn’t see it.
“And…I’m sorry that I held that, our kids, over you. I shouldn't have. I just wanted some, I don’t know, solid reassurance that you and our family will be okay. It’s just been a lot for me this year, and I guess I was looking for it in the wrong place.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have raised my voice, so I suppose we’re equal there.”
A pause.
“I’ll see you.” Skyler said, the click at the end of her words indicating that the call was over.
Walter stepped out of the booth, feeling satisfied. He would see his kids. He could be a damn father.
Jesse would be fine, he could manage. He would always be, as long as Walter was around. If he could have him be more reliable, he could trust him on that.
The man walked towards his car, spotting a certain car not far from him that he unfortunately recognized. Tyrus’ vehicle was parked facing the bar, and it roared to life when Walt opened his own car door. His mood dampened and was replaced with irritation.
Walter knew he had to get rid of Gus before things took a turn for the worse. It was simply a race now.