Chapter Text
“The Invisible String Theory: The universe will keep two people apart until the timing is right. And when you finally meet, there will be a series of uncanny coincidences, as if the timing had been choreographed by something greater. If one thing had fallen out of place, your paths never would have crossed. But the universe aligns, and you will realize that everything that you went through before you met was just preparing your heart for them.”
Jared
Jared taps his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he waits for the light to turn green. With his right hand, he grabs the travel mug from the console and takes a sip of his coffee - strong, a splash of French vanilla creamer, and a tad of sugar. The light turns green, so Jared quickly places the mug down so he can use his right hand to turn the wheel and enter Exchange Avenue. He lets out a microscopic smile as he drives through the Fort Worth Stockyards sign; even though Jared has known this place his whole life, he still enjoys coming here every day. One of the only small joys that life still offers him.
Jared drives slowly almost to the end of the street, greeting some local folks here and there, past the Stockyards Station and around the bar, deliberately hitting the brakes and parking in his usual spot. He kills the engine of the truck and grabs his hat from the passenger seat, putting it on. He uses his right hand to open his door since the handle is quite old and hard to pull, then grabs his cane, which is also on the passenger side, and goes through the motions of stepping out of the high truck. As he hits the ground, Jared feels the usual sharp thud in his spine, but it’s absolutely nothing new. He’s more than used to it. He closes the door and locks the truck, slowly walking around the bar, his cane hitting the stones on the sidewalk with every step he takes. Jared quickly glances at the sign on top of the door, proudly showing the name of the bar.
DFW Saloon
Just like the airport. Jared sighs and holds the cane loosely with his crappy hand so he can put the key into the knob and unlock the door, pushing it open to the side. Then he walks through the saloon-style doors, of course, they’re only there for a charm and to complete the western theme, and they creak just right when you push them. Jared likes the doors. He turns on the lights and takes a quick look around the empty bar. The dark hardwood floor, polished but scarred from countless boots moving around, and stained in some places from too many drinks spilled.
Jared runs a hand over the long counter that stretches over one side of the bar, the surface glistening under the soft light. Behind it, there are shelves lined with many bottles containing all kinds of drinks - whiskey, local brews, even some expensive bourbons that Jared feels proud of. The bar is decorated with your usual Western memorabilia. Posters of old western movies, singers, rodeos; a couple of vintage rifles, some cowboy hats donated by patrons, wagon wheels, etcetera. In one corner there’s a small stage for local bands to play, which doubles as a space for two-step dancing nights, and above it there’s a neon sign shaped as a longhorn head, and another one saying HOWDY, Y’ALL underneath it. An old piano sits in another corner.
Jared turns around to face the counter side again, focusing on the section of the wall next to the shelves of bottles. There are plenty of postcards pinned to the wall, neatly lined up chronologically. Jared keeps the picture side of the postcards turned outwards, so the patrons will see all the different places they came from. But what’s written on the other side of them is only known to Jared, since he keeps those always hidden.
Jared then walks over to the old jukebox and chooses some classic country music to play, and moves to the office through a door next to the counter. He blessedly sits down behind the desk, leaning his cane on it and placing the hat on a hook close to him. Jared takes a look at the photo frame standing on one corner of the desk but quickly looks away, focusing on his tasks. He loses track of time as he goes over some paperwork, typing things down on his laptop about supplies to order, and also pays some bills.
Eventually the door opens, and Jared barely looks up since he knows exactly who arrived.
“Howdy, Cowboy! TGIF, huh!”
Jared snorts. “Yeah, for everyone else. For us, it means heavy work is only starting.”
Chad takes off his hat and aims it at the pole where Jared’s hat is already hanging, sending it flying with a twist of his arm so it lands perfectly.
“I love how you always have something encouraging to say.”
Jared lifts both eyebrows without taking his eyes off the laptop. “You know me. All sunshines and daisies."
Jared keeps typing but only using his right hand; he keeps the left resting next to the keyboard, and Chad picks up on it, of course.
“How’s the hand?” He asks in a more serious tone, making a motion with his head.
Jared shrugs. “Crappy as usual. But it’s fine, no need to worry. I’ve got it.”
Chad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you do. I’ll go make sure everything is good for opening.”
*
It’s a busy day at DFW since it’s Friday, meaning more tourists are arriving and wishing to feel the vibe of the west at the Stockyards. Jared eventually goes out to the bar since he likes to be hands-on despite some limitations nowadays. Jared enjoys talking to the patrons; there are some usuals who come over often and like to spend some time chatting with Jared. He gives a hand pouring drinks, handing out shots, and handling cash. Unfortunately, he’s much slower since his left hand doesn’t cooperate much and it’s tricky to walk and hold a drink at the same time since he needs to use his cane, and that frustrates the hell out of Jared. The customers don’t mind at all; most of them know about Jared’s issues, and the newcomers also notice and don’t make a big deal out of it, yet it bothers him deeply. Jared absolutely hates being limited like this, and he damn misses the good ol’ days.
In the evening, as the bar is buzzing with a local band playing and lots of customers mingling around, Chad discreetly approaches Jared behind the counter.
“Time to saddle up and head home, cowboy.”
Jared huffs. “‘m fine. Place is packed; we need all hands on deck.”
Chad rolls his eyes and grabs Jared’s arm, forcing his friend to look at him. “We’ve got it, whole gang is here tonight. We got this. Remember how we agreed to share the load? Plus, you leave your butt at home tomorrow, I’ll be here.”
Jared swallows hard, not ready to give up just yet. “I can do this. I’m still good to serve some beers.”
“I ain’t asking, Jare. You don’t need to prove nothin’. You’ve been ridin’ hard all week, go rest those legs before they give out under ya. You’re run down, just go. We’ve got this. You’ve done enough already.”
Jared licks his bottom lip, hating that Chad is right, but he eventually caves. He could use some quiet time at home, if he’s being honest. So he nods, and before he can move Chad goes to the office to get Jared’s keys, wallet and phone, while Alona walks out of the kitchen carrying a plastic bag and handing it to him.
“Put some briskets and potato salad for dinner. Make sure you eat that!”
“Thanks, Ma,” Jared says, half annoyed and half jokingly, as Chad comes back and hands him the items. Jared manages to carry the bag with his left hand - it’s not that useless - and turns to Chad.
“Holler if you need anything.”
“I won’t. I’ll wrangle everything in here man, I know what I’m doin’. And only get your ass here on Sunday.”
Jared nods. “I know that you will. And fine, see y’all soon then.” He says his goodbyes to the rest of the staff and the patrons nearby and makes his way out of the bar and to the back of it, throwing the plastic bag on the passenger seat of his truck and finally climbing in it. It’s a hassle to do it, the seat on his ‘92 Ford F-150 is too high and takes some effort - and pain - from Jared to get to it, he needs to grab the steering wheel hard and maneuver, it has gotten even harder after his left hand got weaker, but he’s too stubborn to get a lower car. Chad has suggested it once that he get a sedan, but Jared almost ripped his head off. He would rather die before he parts ways with his Ford truck. Not only because the thought of himself driving a sedan is ridiculous and laughable, but especially because this truck… he just can’t let it go. Even if it’s an old, battered thing that has long ago seen its better days (much like Jared himself). Jared can’t even imagine selling it. So he goes through the hassle of getting in and out everyday. The effort is worth it.
*
Jared parks the truck at one of the parking spots on the side of his apartment building. It’s a three-story, brick building already fading due to exposure to Texas heat. Jared grabs his hat and dinner bag and climbs down from his truck, slowly making his way to the entrance. Jared notices a SUV with a U-Haul trailer attached on the spot in front of it, the one designated for his next-door neighbor, so it seems that the apartment isn’t empty anymore. As Jared gets to the front door, he struggles a bit to unlock it since he’s holding the cane and the bag, but finally manages it. Then comes the task of climbing the stairs to the second floor. He does it deliberately, placing his cane on each step before going up. It leaves him exhausted by the time he arrives on his floor, but Jared pushes down the frustration. He can hear Chad in his mind bugging him about moving to an apartment on the first floor, but Jared doesn’t need that. He just climbed the stairs, didn’t he? So moving is not necessary. He’s fine.
Jared walks past apartment 2C and notices light filtering from under the door, so Jared obviously has a new neighbor. The apartment has been empty since Mrs. Bowman moved out a few months ago; it was about time it got occupied again. Jared hopes the new neighbor is someone nice who doesn’t mind the noise.
After taking a shower and eating the food that Alona packed for him, Jared sits in front of his keyboard set right next to the door to the small balcony, leaning the cane on the wall right next to it. Jared takes a deep breath and allows his fingers to glide over the keys, letting it wash over him. Then he gently starts playing a familiar melody, something from such a long time ago, and that calms his troubled heart. Even though Jared makes a huge effort his left hand sometimes falters, not hitting the keys the right way, and Jared pushes down the frustration it always brings him. He won’t let this win; he refuses to. Jared has already lost so much, he won’t lose this, too. So even though it’s not perfect, Jared keeps going. He tries to compensate more with his right hand and just makes do. Music is part of his life, and playing piano is one of the few things he still truly enjoys in life. As Jared plays, he keeps his eyes closed and remembers a time when he had someone to hear him play. Back when his life was happy and complete.
Jensen
Jensen unlocks the door to his new apartment, dropping a box next to the door and thinking about the other couple of dozen he still has to unload from his U-Haul cargo trailer. Jensen is absolutely worn out, having made the road trip all the way from Seattle to Fort Worth by himself. He has made a lot of stops, of course, since it’s a thirty-hour drive, but still. The trip took him a few days, and Jensen will be happy if he doesn’t sit behind a wheel for a whole month.
Jensen goes for a tour of the apartment, it’s a two-bedroom place with an integrated kitchen, living and dining room, an en-suite, another full bathroom, and a small balcony. The building is a low, old-style exposed brick construction with no elevator, and luckily, Jensen only has to climb one floor. Jensen trusted his real estate agent to find him a nice place to rent after he got relocated to Fort Worth. He didn’t need much to be honest, since he will be living by himself. This apartment is nicely located, close to the office, and already tastefully furnished. Jensen hopes things go well around here. He spends a couple of hours bringing up boxes, and it’s exhaustive work, especially doing it by himself. Jensen doesn’t bring everything up for now; he doesn’t have the energy and only needs to return the trailer in a couple of days, so he allows himself to be lazy and leave the stuff he won’t be needing in it for now.
Jensen makes a run to the 7-Eleven at the corner and buys a 6-pack and a couple of deli sandwiches. He goes back home, takes a much-needed shower, and makes himself comfortable on the couch with a beer and his sandwich. Jensen finds a game on TV and spends some time thinking about everything: the past years he spent in Seattle, what took him there, and now his transfer back to his home state. He thinks mostly about what he can expect out of Fort Worth, and Jensen hopes it’s something good. Jensen is once more close to his hometown of Dallas; his mother was very pleased when Jensen told her he was coming back to Texas, but if Jensen is being honest, he’s not too keen on visiting anytime soon. He knows what he will hear from his family: same old, same old. Jensen is more than happy to postpone the visit as much as he can.
About an hour later, Jensen starts hearing a different sound. It tugs at his heart for some reason, and he lowers the sound of the TV so he can hear it. It’s the faint sound of music coming from a piano, and Jensen sets his beer down. It’s a beautiful and touching melody, and Jensen finds himself getting up as his feet drag him to the balcony. He notices how the sound seems to be coming from the apartment right next to his, and he feels himself drawn to it, almost like a cartoon character who floats towards the sound. Jensen is familiar with the melody being played; it’s a somewhat popular one. It has a touch of melancholy and sadness to it, and it goes straight to Jensen’s heart. He can hear how it’s just slightly imperfect, as if the keys aren’t being played the exact way they should, but it doesn’t make it less beautiful in the slightest. If anything, it makes it unique. It makes Jensen ache for something unattainable.
Jensen stays on the balcony for an indefinite time as he listens to the beautiful melody, and another one follows. Jensen gets himself lost in that one as well, but it ends rather abruptly, way earlier than it should. Jensen wonders what happened and waits to see if the mysterious player will continue. He half wishes the person would come outside to the balcony so he can see them, but instead he sees how the light in the living room goes off. With a pang in his heart, Jensen realizes the music session is over for the night. He goes inside as well, going back to his beer and game, but his mind is half-occupied by the piano player from next door.
*
Jensen spends the following morning bringing up some more boxes and trying to unpack as many as he can. He hates moving with a passion. At least he was able to organize most of his clothes and kitchen appliances. The most important one - his Keurig machine - is up and running, and that’s what matters. Jensen isn’t anyone and won’t go anywhere without his caffeine dose in the mornings.
In the afternoon, he goes over to his new office building so he can start getting familiarized with it and meet everyone he will be working with. He has already brought some of his stuff, so he spends some time organizing his office to make the place exactly as he likes it - Jensen is low-key methodical with things and likes to have stuff in his own way. And since he’s here he gets some work done, since he hasn’t done that for the past few days due to the move.
By the time Jensen drives home, he’s exhausted. He stops by a Domino’s to get the pizza he ordered beforehand since he’s absolutely not in the mood to cook tonight, and finally gets to his apartment. After taking a shower and changing into comfortable clothes, Jensen sits on the couch with his pizza and beer to try and find something to watch.
And that’s when the music starts. Jensen has been so busy with the moving and work stuff that he ended up pushing the piano person to the back of his mind. And now, they’re front and center again. Jensen mutes the TV and forgets about the pizza. He moves to the balcony and spends some time lost in the sweet melody being played. Again it’s not perfect; there are some missing notes, but if anything, it makes it more special. Jensen doesn’t know who is playing, and yet he already feels connected. He wishes he could just knock on his neighbor’s door and introduce himself, but something holds him back, and Jensen knows very well what it is.
Instead, Jensen just listens, mesmerized. And much sooner than Jensen would like, the serenade is over. With a pang in his heart, Jensen heads back inside and eats his pizza while watching a rerun of Chicago Fire. Jensen can’t focus on it, though; he keeps hearing the melody in his mind, wishing he knew who the person playing is. And he wants to hear more.
*
Jensen spends the whole day at the office the next day, but now he can’t forget about the pianist anymore. He hopes the person is playing tonight; he longs to hear the music again. And as Jensen drives home, he has an idea. He goes digging in the U-Haul trailer searching for one of the last boxes still in there, which contains some untouched stuff. Jensen brings it up with him and places the box on the dining table, opening it and going through some old books and notebooks in it. He finally finds what he’s searching for, an old notebook containing some faded music sheets from his own failed attempt at learning to play the piano eons ago. Jensen sighs, staring at those for a long moment and remembering the context of how they came to be. He shakes his head, not wishing to reminisce about the past since it still stings. He chooses one, containing Clair de Lune, and plucks it from the notebook. Jensen smooths it out and stares at it for a moment, gathering courage for what he wants to do.
Before he can lose his nerve, Jensen opens his door and walks over to his neighbor’s door. He doesn’t know if he or she is at home, and he truly hopes he’s not caught in the act. That would be absolutely ridiculous. Jensen almost gives up and goes back to his apartment, but his hands move before he can stop them. He folds the sheet neatly and slips it under the door, rushing back to his apartment and closing the door behind him. Jensen leans against it for a moment, only now remembering that he should have damn written something in it. Like, Hey, I’m your new neighbor and I love it when you play, do you mind playing this one?; or Do you take requests? - 2C. But no, Jensen had to be weird and awkward and just slip the sheet under the door, without saying anything. The person will probably think they’re a jukebox or something.
Jensen wishes he could get the sheet back, that’s ridiculous. He tries to get his mind off it, so he takes a nice shower and spends some time cooking dinner since he’s very tired of fast food, which is all he has been having for the past few days. When dinner is ready, Jensen makes himself comfortable on the couch and tries once more to forget his ridiculous stunt. As Jensen eats, he feels even more pathetic. Who the fuck does that? Jensen acted like a damn teenager, not the thirty-something man he is. Next thing he will be putting a sock on the door to alert others when he has someone over. Jensen hopes the person doesn’t even see the sheet, maybe–
And then, all of a sudden, it starts. The first notes of Claire de Lune begin, and Jensen’s heart stops for a second. He’s invaded with many emotions at once, things he tries to push down. He swallows hard and rushes to the balcony to hear it better. Once again a few notes falter, but it makes the melody more beautiful and special. Jensen closes his eyes as he hears it, going down memory lane, his heart feeling warmer and sadder at the same time.
The song ends, but Jensen doesn’t move for a long while; he feels transported to another moment in time. The person doesn’t play any more songs, but that one was enough to touch Jensen’s heart tonight. He wishes he could go knock on the door of his neighbor, or even call them from the balcony to thank them for playing the song, but he chickens out for some reason. He knows he will meet the person eventually, but for now, it’s like Jensen wants to preserve the mystery.
Jared
Jared finishes playing Clair de Lune, feeling goosebumps all over. He hopes his neighbor enjoyed it, and most of all, that they don’t mind how Jared didn’t play it perfectly. He tried to, especially after arriving home and finding the music sheet neatly folded. Jared was touched that he had gotten a request; he knew it had to be from his new neighbor. Nobody else has ever done that, and he knows that the next-door apartment is the place where one can hear his music better. Jared wondered why the person hadn’t written anything, but he took the music sheet as a clear request. He knows Clair de Lune by heart; he almost doesn’t need a music sheet to play it, but he placed it on the support on top of the keyboard anyway. Jared worked hard to play the song perfectly, especially after finding out he had an audience now, but his left fingers weren’t as fast and he missed some notes. Jared feels damn frustrated when it happens, he almost gives up on playing more often than not, but then he doesn’t, since playing is something that connects him to a much happier past.
*
Jared spends most of the following day at the bar, and then he decides to walk around the Yards for a while while there’s still plenty of daylight. He spends some time chatting with the locals - Jared knows pretty much everyone who works here, and even catches the Longhorn Cattle Drive, which happens twice a day. The longhorn cattle walk down Exchange Avenue to show off for the tourists, who fill up both sides of the street with cameras in hand to watch them. Jared likes it, it feels like home since he has been watching the drive since he can’t even remember when.
Alex, who takes care of the horses, offers Jared a ride on one of them, and Jared decides to take him up on his offer. Sometimes he does it, he likes horseback riding and it’s something he can still do even with his bad legs and hand. It’s good to take his mind off things, horses don’t judge him and don’t look at him with pity because of his disability (which he still doesn’t acknowledge as such) and past. Alex never charges him for the ride - which is something tourists pay for - and in return, he always has free drinks at DFW. Jared uses a mounting block so he can get on the horse, since sadly he doesn’t have the strength to do it from the ground anymore, which sucks a lot, but at least he doesn’t need to ask others for help. Jared grimaces as he pulls himself up, which has no grace at all to the movement, and drags his body until he’s on the saddle. Jared places his cane in a holder on the saddle, almost like a rifle, then grabs the reins with his right hand and kicks the flanks of the horse. Then off they go.
Jared spends some time following the dirty trail, taking some deep breaths, and closing his eyes for a few moments as he leaves everything behind. No past, no bar, no legs failing him, and damn nerves firing wrong inside his body. For a few moments it’s just him, the horse, and the blue Texas sky.
The trail makes a curve, and Jared feels the ache flare sharply going up his leg. He hisses but swallows hard. Jared ignores it for now and presses his left hand flat on the horse’s head to keep himself grounded, and feels the movement of the horse walking underneath him. Before he can help it, Jared suddenly misses walking so easily like this, and once again he curses his cane and legs that won’t work properly. He tries to push down the sour feelings and resumes his ride, going back to the Yards after about an hour.
Getting back down is another struggle, and Alex holds the mounting block steady for him, which is the biggest concession Jared will make regarding getting help from others. He grabs his cane again and thanks Alex, telling the man to stop by the bar later for some beers.
Jared goes to his truck, stopping to get a few groceries before going home, and wonders if his neighbor has another request for today.
Jensen
Jensen finally goes back home for good after another long day. Work kicked his ass, and then he had to come and collect the U-Haul trailer to return it if he didn’t want to pay some extra for keeping it too long. Now it’s finally time to go home and rest, and maybe make another song request. Jensen has thought about it the whole day, wondering about which song he could ask, and this time he’s going to write a little note on the paper so his neighbor doesn’t think he’s a freak or impolite.
Jensen unlocks the front door of the building, and when he gets to the stairs he hears someone climbing them already, almost at the top of them. Jensen doesn’t think too much of it until there’s a muffled curse followed by a loud thud. Jensen looks up in time to see a shopping bag falling on the steps, and its contents coming down in his direction. Jensen doesn’t even look up, he busies himself for a few seconds trying to collect the items: a pack of bread, a couple of cans, a bag of potatoes, and some chocolate. As he gathers everything, the person speaks from the top of the stairs.
“Thank you, I’m sorry, I–”
Jensen looks up instantly, and their eyes meet. He freezes for a second and stands up straighter, not taking his eyes off the other man. Jensen finds his feet and manages to climb the rest of the steps to reach him. Jensen focuses on his face, the chestnut hair, long enough that it almost reaches his shoulders, but most of it is hidden under a cowboy hat. Hazel eyes, shaped almost fox-like. A pointed nose, with a couple of moles right next to it. Rosy lips, slightly parted. A tad taller than Jensen, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, as Jensen’s gaze travels down. He’s wearing a black button-down, tight jeans, a belt, and of course, leather boots. Jensen notices with slightly raised eyebrows that he’s holding firmly onto a cane planted on the floor. Jensen is absolutely mesmerized, and he doesn’t know what to say or do. And it looks like the other man feels the same from the look on his face.
Jensen blinks a couple of times and looks away, noticing the shopping bag at his feet. So he busies himself for a moment, leaning down to grab it and put the items he’s still carrying back inside. Time seems to stand still again as they stare at each other, and Jensen opens his mouth to say something, but the man beats him to it as he holds the cane with his other hand and offers his right one to Jensen.
“Hey. I’m Jared Padalecki, nice to meet you.”
Jensen stays frozen on the spot for a few more moments, a light frown forming on his face as if he’s a bit slow on the uptake, then his brain finally catches up with the program. He clears his throat and takes Jared’s hand.
“Hey, Jared. Nice to meet you, too. I’m… I’m Jensen. Jensen Ackles.”
Jensen feels an electric shock as Jared’s skin touches his, his heartbeat speeding up. They shake hands and Jared withdraws his first, and strangely enough, Jensen feels colder already. His brain is feeling like mush, and thankfully Jared speaks again.
“I… thank you,” he points at the bag as he switches the cane to his right hand again. “It slipped from my hand. Did–did you just move in?”
Jensen swallows hard and nods. “I did, a few days ago,” Jensen points at his door a few feet away. “2C.”
Jared’s jaw drops. “The new neighbor. I’m…” He points at the door further down the hallway. “2B.”
Jensen’s eyes widen as he realizes it. “You’re the piano player.”
Jared blinks at him and it dawns on him as well, apparently. “You made the request yesterday.”
Jensen nods. “I did. I heard… well, I heard you.”
Jensen sees how Jared’s cheeks pinken up, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, well. I should… I should get inside.” He reaches for the bag of groceries, and Jensen hands it to him. He notices how Jared’s hand seems to struggle to hold the bag, and he loops the handles around his wrist instead. Jared looks at Jensen again, who notices how the man seems very insecure. “I… I’m going in then. Thank you, Jensen. It’s… it’s nice meeting you. See you around, I guess.”
With that Jared turns around to walk to his apartment, and it registers fully in Jensen’s brain that the man is using a cane. As Jared begins to move, Jensen’s eyes catch on the way he goes. The cane hits the floor first, tapping softly against the carpet, steadying Jared before each stride. His right leg follows with some effort, the movement a little clipped, not quite smooth as it should be. Jensen frowns as he watches the left leg lag, seeming even slower and stiffer than the right, the foot flattening on the floor as if it can’t quite carry the weight well, making his gait uneven. It’s not exactly a limp; it looks more like a very careful choreography, as if Jared is measuring every step, being deliberate. Jensen’s gaze travels up and notices as well how Jared holds himself with a quiet defiance, his shoulders squared, head held high, as if daring anyone to notice the effort the steps cost him, or even worse, to pity him.
Something twists in Jensen’s chest as he watches the way Jared walks. He tells himself it’s the jarring sight of someone so tall and solid, all cowboy-like, moving with such a fragile restraint. And yet Jensen can’t look away; he keeps his gaze on Jared as the man struggles a bit to unlock and open the door, then closes it behind him.
Jensen feels almost punched in the gut; he wasn’t expecting that. He imagined a lot of faces that his pianist neighbor could have, but that one was a shock. Jared not only has a drop-dead gorgeous face, but he also has a solid presence to himself, something irradiating from inside, and Jensen just can’t be indifferent. He already feels deeply affected by Jared.
He tries to recompose himself and gets inside his apartment, closing the door behind him. Jensen quickly goes to his bathroom and gets under the shower, allowing the warm water to fall on him as plenty of things go around in his mind. The image of the tall cowboy with trouble walking is imprinted in his brain.
Later, as Jensen sits on the couch eating the leftovers from yesterday, he also remembers how Jared’s left hand seemed weak as well. And it hits him then, it’s probably why the melodies that Jared plays seem slightly off, as if he’s missing a few keys. He probably can’t play very well with his left hand, and it sends a sharp pain through Jensen’s chest as he realizes that.
Jensen wonders what’s up with Jared, what his condition is. He wonders if he got diagnosed with something, if it’s progressive. And Jensen hopes to all Gods that it isn’t. Jensen wishes he could know more, but of course it’s not his place at all to ask Jared something so personal since they just met. But apart from that, Jensen can’t take the whole image of Jared from his mind. His deep eyes, the way his hair curled slightly at the tips, his slightly raspy voice that felt almost like a balm to his soul. Jensen aches to see him again; he curses the wall separating them.
Jensen has an idea then, he searches for his book with the music sheets, and chooses another one. The Moonlight Sonata this time. Jensen grabs a pen and scribbles a few words on the sheet.
Taking more requests? - 2C
Jensen opens his door and walks over to Jared’s, hesitating just barely. He folds the sheet and slides it under the door, then goes back inside. About twenty minutes later, the first notes of the melody filter through the balcony, and Jensen goes outside to listen. As predicted it’s not perfect, but by now Jensen prefers it this way. It’s almost as if this is Jared’s personal signature, the way some notes falter, and it makes the melody more his. Jensen allows his mind to wander as Jared plays, and it goes so far away, he thinks about so many things. Jensen is sad when the melody is over, but this time Jared plays another one, making Jensen smile. He stays outside for the whole thing, and even much after Jared has stopped playing and turned off the lights in his living room. Jared has touched something deep inside of Jensen; he’s afraid of it, but at the same time he wants to see Jared again. See those beautiful eyes staring back at him and hear the voice that sounds like a balm to his soul.
Jensen chuckles as he asks himself if this could be described as love at first sight.
*
Jensen spends the next day at work not able to take his mind off Jared; he aches to see him. But he has a very busy day with work and running errands, so Jensen ends up arriving home much later and more tired than he intended. Jensen only has the energy to take a shower and drop on the couch. He wants to gather the courage to send a music sheet to Jared, but even before he can do it, the serenade starts. Jared repeats the first song that Jensen requested, and that gets a smile out of him. Jensen manages to drag himself to the balcony to hear it closer, and Jared follows with the one Jensen asked for yesterday. That puts a smile on his face and makes his exhaustion disappear somewhat. Jensen goes to bed a little later, feeling a warmth in his heart.
Jared
Jared wakes up the next morning and goes through his usual routine. Jared’s mornings are always tough because his body is stiffer, his muscles loosen up a bit during the day, but everything takes more effort after he wakes up. That’s why the mornings are always the hardest parts of the day for Jared; it’s when he truly feels the limitations that his body has now and he feels even more like crap for everything, his life now, and what led to this.
Jared has some errands to run in the morning, so he had to wake up even earlier today. He gets dressed and eats something, having his usual coffee, and grabs his things so he can be out the door. When he opens it, he nearly trips over a big box placed on his doorstep.
“Shit!” He curses, managing to catch himself in time with his cane on the floor. Slightly annoyed, he bends down to read the label on the box, since he doesn’t remember ordering anything, and realizes it’s addressed to Jensen, not him. There’s a note underneath saying it’s from Chris, who must have mixed up the apartments.
Jared sighs; the thought of Jensen makes his annoyance dissipate a bit. Ever since they met two days ago, when Jared was careless and dropped his grocery bag and Jensen helped collect his things, Jared hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the man. He had pictured many scenarios of who could be his new neighbor (or neighbors), but that was a shock. Jensen took Jared’s breath away from the first moment he laid eyes on the man. He felt hypnotized by those big green eyes, the freckles on his face, and his plush lips. Jared’s brain turned to mush instantly, but he was able to get his shit together and decided to introduce himself. As Jensen’s hand touched his, Jared felt something he hadn’t felt in such a long time, something he hasn’t allowed himself to feel for God knows how long. He suddenly craved to be close to Jensen, to get to know him better. And isn’t that crazy?
Jared loved how he made another request for Jared to play, and he gladly did it. Jared spent the whole day yesterday thinking about Jensen, wondering if he would ask for another song, but there was no music sheet last night. Perhaps Jensen got busy, maybe he was tired. Jared noticed how the light in his living room was on; he could see it from his balcony, so he decided to play the two requests for Jensen, hoping he would enjoy it.
And now there’s a box on his doorstep, intended for Jensen. Jared thinks it’s a good opportunity to see Jensen again, if he’s still at home and hasn’t left for work. So Jared walks around the box and closes the door behind him. He tries to drag the box, but his left arm is still stiffer and his legs won’t help either, so he can’t push the box with them. Jared hates from the bottom of his heart how damn useless he is. He has to suck it up and admit defeat. Jared walks over to Jensen’s door and rings the doorbell. It doesn’t take even a minute for the door to open and Jensen to appear on the other side of it, all dressed to go to work, full suit on and ready for business. Jared is attacked by Jensen’s scent, and he blinks a few times to recompose himself as Jensen gives him a surprised smile.
“Jared, hey!”
Jared smiles back. “Howdy, Jensen. Sorry to bother, hm…” Jared points in the direction of his door. “But apparently someone thinks you need a new air fryer. It got delivered to my apartment instead. You’ll… well, you’ll have to carry it, sorry. I’m not wrestling this thing up and down the hallway.” Jared feels his cheeks warming up as he says that. He absolutely hates to admit his weaknesses. Jensen frowns and leans outside his door to see the box on Jared’s doorstep, and his eyes widen.
“Oh dang, I’m so sorry!” Jensen quickly walks over to Jared’s door and easily picks up the box, making Jared a bit envious deep down. Jensen returns and stops next to Jared, inspecting the label, and he lets out a chuckle. “It’s from Chris; he must have mixed up the apartments.” Jared only nods, and Jensen looks at him. “You’re going out? Hang on a second, we can go down together.” Jared agrees and Jensen gets inside, placing the box on his dining table. Then he collects his stuff and is out the door. They walk together to the stairs and start going down. Jared, of course, is much slower since he has to go one step at a time, hold onto the rail with his left hand, make sure the cane is planted firmly on each step, and calculate all his movements, and he shoots Jensen an embarrassed look.
“Sorry. You don’t gotta wait on me. I’m slow as molasses in the morning, even more than usual. You’re probably in a hurry for work.”
Jensen shakes his head and gives Jared a once-over, but there’s no pity on his expression, and Jared is grateful for that. “Not at all. I’ve got some time.”
Jensen matches Jared’s speed, waiting for him and making small talk.
“Chris has been bugging me for months to get an air fryer. Well, Chris is my friend, I mean. From Dallas.”
Jared nods and thinks about something to say. “You from Dallas?”
Jensen blinks at him. “Yeah, I… yeah. I’m from Dallas. Are you from around here?”
“Yeah. Born and bred around the Stockyards. Fort Worth has always been my home through better and worse.” Jensen nods, not saying anything as he looks down, so Jared goes on. “What brings you to town? You coming from Dallas?”
Jensen faces Jared again, something unreadable passing like a flash through his features. “No, I… I was transferred at work. I have been in Seattle for the past few years. And now I… well. It’s a long story.”
Jared nods, very familiar with long stories. “I bet it is.”
They get to the front door and Jensen opens it, allowing Jared to walk out first. As they get to the sidewalk, Jared turns to him.
“You never had an air fryer?”
Jensen chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Uhh no? Should I? Are you part of the air fryer cult as well, like Chris? Because he swears I am a neanderthal for not having one yet. I guess he saw his chance as I moved and sent it as a new house gift. I should have known when he asked for my address the other day. Leave it to him to write down the apartment number wrong.”
They keep walking together without even realizing it, as if it’s so natural for them. Jared laughs. “Well, it’s pretty practical to cook stuff without needing much effort. I rely on mine a lot at home. I think you’ll become a fan in no time and be allowed in the air fryer cult.”
Jensen smiles. “I need to figure out how to operate that. From what I saw on the box, the thing has a million buttons. I feel like I need a new degree to learn all of that.”
Jensen gives Jared a hopeful look, or Jared at least reads it that way. He wonders if Jensen is implying what Jared thinks he is. So he gives Jensen a timid look.
“Well… if you want, I can come over later to help you set it up. It’s very hard indeed; we will probably need to contact NASA to guide us through it.”
That gets a laugh out of Jensen, and Jared loves hearing it. “Well, I’ll take up on your offer, thank you! Hopefully we manage to do it ourselves.”
Jared nods. “I’ll stop by then.”
“Thanks. Oh God, we walked past my car!”
Jared looks around to see they’re on the lot next to the building where he parks his car. “You’re in the front spots, right?”
Jensen nods. “Yeah, I’m at the front. Why don’t you–” Jensen closes his mouth shut and doesn’t finish the sentence, as if he realized he shouldn’t say something, whatever it is. He shakes his head then. “Never mind. Where are you…” Jensen trails off as he looks to their side and notices the battered pickup truck right next to them. Jared makes a short motion to it, clearing his throat.
“That’s… well, that’s me.”
Jensen’s eyes widen a bit as he inspects the truck, and he looks back at Jared with a small smile. “Nice truck.”
Jared looks at Jensen for another moment, then his gaze travels to the truck. He places his left hand on the faded hood, giving it a light tap. A fond, lopsided smile forms on his face as he looks at his baby.
“Yeah. She… she has been through some harsh roads.” Jared swallows hard before continuing, his voice becoming softer. “But she’s still got some life left in her, some miles. Still going.”
There’s silence for a few heartbeats, and when Jared chances a look at Jensen he’s sympathetic, as if he knows that Jared isn’t just talking about the truck. Jared blinks a few times to come out of his sudden stupor and gives Jensen an awkward smile.
“Sorry. I won’t keep you anymore, you must be late for work already.”
Jensen clears his throat, also seeming to be recomposing himself, and smiles back. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’ll get going then. See you later?” Yet again there’s a hopeful tone in his voice, and Jared nods.
“Yeah, ‘course. I’ll even bring something so we can cook in your air fryer and try it out. Sounds good?”
Jensen nods back with a bigger smile. “Sounds awesome. See you later then.”
“See ya.”
Jared waits until Jensen has turned around to go back to his car so he can go through the process of climbing on the truck, since he doesn’t want Jensen to see his struggles (more than he already has). He finally gets settled and takes off, spending most of the morning taking care of things he has been postponing. Then Jared drives over to the bar and makes sure everything is in order. Chad arrives not too long after and meets up with Jared, who’s in the back office managing some bills.
“Howdy, dude!”
Chad sits down across from Jared as they start to chat. Jared decides to be honest and tell his friend about meeting Jensen, his new neighbor, and Chad perks up at that. He asks some questions and Jared talks some more about their encounters, even if there’s really not much to tell since they’ve met just twice so far. But apparently Chad reads Jared just right, and gives his friend a pointed look.
“Just… be careful, okay, Jare?”
Jared huffs and rolls his eyes. “I will be. Promise.”
“I’m gonna hold on to that, hear me?”
Jared sighs and gets up, grabbing his cane so he can go back to the bar. They spend a busy day with a good number of tourists, which is always good for business. Jared is of course tired, but he pushes it down. It’s always good to feel useful and know that he can still run his bar closely and not leave it to someone else to do the job.
Before he leaves for the day, he asks Alona to pack some of the marinated chicken thighs from the kitchen so he can take them home. Chad gives him a knowing look, but Jared ignores his friend for now. Soon Alona gives him a plastic bag with a container, and he says goodbye to everyone before heading to his truck. Jared feels almost like a teenager with butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing Jensen soon.
TBC...