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spn_springfling2017-04-07 08:00 am
springflingmod.livejournal.com) wrote in spn_springfling2017-04-07 08:00 am
Exposed by madebyme_x for backrose_17
Title: Exposed
Pairing: J2
Rating: PG13
Any warnings: Language
It's the first place he thought of—their favourite watering hole. But now that he's sitting in a crowded bar, a football game blaring on the wall-mounted big screen and people crammed into every available corner, Jensen's mistake is as clear as day; he shouldn't be doing this here.
At the other side of the sticky table, he can barely hear whatever Jared's talking about. Instead, Jensen focuses on Jared's big, capable hands as they absent-mindedly push up the sleeves of his sweater. Jensen would recognize those hands anywhere.
“You OK?” Jared asks, his smile slipping in concern. “I mean, I'm telling you the most exhilarating story about my computer issues, and you look like you're gonna hurl or something.”
After a sleepless night of playing this out in his head, Jensen still has no idea what to say, or even where to begin. So he pulls out the manila envelope from inside his jacket pocket and slides it across the table to Jared, his stomach twisting itself into knots.
Jared frowns, and then reaches inside the envelope and lays out the black-and-white photographs one by one, his gaze flicking from one to another before finally settling on one particular image.
It's Metro City's very own superhero, The Ghost, dressed head to toe in dark leather, his face just the hint of a profile, obscured by a hood. He's standing over an unconscious man, a discarded gun lying just out of reach. The street lighting is dim, but it hits something dark and shiny on The Ghost's shoulder, and one arm is pressed tightly against his ribs.
But it's the little girl's frightened face as she peeks around from behind The Ghost's legs, reaching tentatively for his hand, that really sells the photograph. She'd been kidnapped two days ago, her face plastered on every newspaper and TV screen in the city.
When Jared looks up from the photo, Jensen sees a flicker of relief before it's replaced with a smile so huge and bright that Jensen feels like he's orbiting the sun.
“Jensen, this is great. I mean, this could be the big break that'll get you that corner office you've got your eye on!”
“So you think I should call my editor? Get it published?” Jensen's playing this cautiously, studying every one of Jared's moves carefully; the way his eyes don't move from Jensen, and his hands don't shake as he tips the long neck of his beer for a drink.
“I mean you can't see his face, but still, no one has a picture of The Ghost, Jensen. No one. This is pure gold!” Jared's body language is relaxed and open, and his hands move excitedly, like he means everything he's saying. “You could win awards for this photo, and I don't know how much these are worth, but it's gotta mean something for your career, right?”
And damn Jared for saying everything that Jensen wanted him to say. Everything apart from the truth, that is.
Jensen looks over his shoulder, but no one is paying them the slightest bit of attention. He leans over the table, his finger tapping on the photo of The Ghost. “I know, Jared.”
His gaze locks on Jared, hard and unyielding, because really, what does he actually know about the man sitting in front of him? Jensen knows he works from home, something in computers, but he's never been inside his place, never really heard him talk about his life before he moved to the city, and Jensen doesn't know anything about his family either.
Jared is a mystery.
And he's damn good at keeping it that way too; making people think they're really close to him, deflecting personal questions, making people feel easy and relaxed around him, all smiles and contagious laugh, with a larger than life personality to match. He's nothing but warm and inviting, and people flock to him because of that.
But it's bullshit. It's all utter bullshit.
“For once, I was actually in the right place, at the right time.” There's a roar of yells at the referee's bad call, but Jensen carries on. “I heard the gunshots, and I saw The Ghost take a hit but still save that girl, and I've got the pictures to prove it.”
Most cities as large as Metro City have their very own superhero, but the The Ghost is different; he shies away from the public's attention; no interviews, no photos, no public appearances. No one knows what he looks like, or who he is, or anything about him. No one even knows what his superpower is, and it's become everyone's favourite topic of speculation.
Jensen taps his finger on the shadowy man in the photograph. The camera couldn't capture movement—like that characteristic bounce to his step that Jensen had seen that night and so many times before. But what the frozen moment in time did reveal was as familiar to Jensen as the man sitting across from him: that admirable shoulder-to-hip ratio, the slope of the nose, the broad thumbs and long fingers.
It was like putting together the pieces of a puzzle, and when they came together, Jensen had recognized the man. After all, he'd been staring at him for over a year now, imaging the kind of life they could share since the minute they first met in this bar. “This is you. You're The Ghost!”
Jared's smile is wide, his eyebrows raised. “You think that I fight crime in my spare time? That I, what? Practice fight training in my tiny studio apartment? I mean I'm flattered, but Jensen, this guy looks like he's been shot, and I'm fine.” Jared sits back in his chair, and spreads his arms. “See?”
That almost stops Jensen in his tracks. The Ghost had been hurt, hadn't he? But maybe not—maybe that dark gleam in the streetlight wasn't blood. Jensen leans closer into Jared's space, shaking his head. “You had no idea I was there, and you froze when you saw me in my car holding my camera. But then it all clicked into place, and I felt like I could finally understand you, and all the little mysteries surrounding you suddenly made sense. ”
Jared's gaze drops to the tabletop, but he doesn't respond.
Jensen takes a deep breath. “I'm not going to tell anyone who you are. You know me, Jared, your secret is safe with me. I mean, hell, all I've talked about since we met is The Ghost! He's --no you're-- saving my city, the city I grew up in. This is my home, and you know that I owe The Ghost everything for what he's doing, and for what he did for me. I'm on your side, and I'd never do anything to jeopardize that.”
Jensen searches Jared's face, hoping that he'll see a sign, no matter how small, that Jared is caving, that he's letting this façade crack, to prove to Jensen what he knows is true: Jared is Metro City's superhero.
“I care about you, Jared, I always have. I want to get to know you, all of you, and I...I want us to have a future together. But I need you to tell me the truth.”
There's a pause, and then the bar erupts into cheers and screams as a touchdown is scored.
When Jared finally meets Jensen's gaze, his eyes are filled with sadness. “I'm sorry, Jensen.”
It’s clear: Jared either doesn't want him or doesn't trust him. Either way, the rejection is just too much, and Jensen doesn't know what else to do, but leave. Grabbing the envelope, he stands up so quickly he knocks his chair over, but he doesn't turn back.
Outside the air is fresh but cold, the pavement twinkling with frost as he takes a sharp left turn down an alley, not quite running, but not strolling either. He dodges trash cans and wooden crates, his nostrils barely picking up the scent of rotting food and sewage. One block passes, then another. He rolls up the envelope, and tucks it into his jacket, close to his chest, where he probably should have left it in the first place.
This was a stupid plan; what was Jared supposed to say to him in a bar full of people anyway? But it's not everyday that you find out that someone close to you is a superhero; that he's living a double life, helped get dozens of dirty cops off the streets; that he busts drugs dealers, gun smugglers and petty thieves; that he's done more for this city in a year than anyone else ever has in the city's entire history.
But Jensen isn't naive. The Ghost has broken laws, and is constantly toeing the line between what's right and what's wrong in order get results. The press play on it too; one month he's a hero, and the next he's a criminal that should be locked up along with the drug dealers and thieves that he apprehended.
The beatings, the blackmail, the threats; they all make it hard for Jensen to defend The Ghost, because he's not sure if he believes that the end justifies the means. He often wonders if The Ghost struggles with that too. If only Jensen could reach him, he could help to steer him into the light, and shoulder some of that burden.
And shit, Jensen really should have handled this differently; gone somewhere quieter, more personal, encouraged Jared to share his secret instead of accusing him, and practically outing him in public.
He kicks an empty beer can in frustration, watching as it tumbles along the broken concrete. When he looks up he sees a tall silhouette up ahead, and Jensen stops dead in his tracks as he sees Jared walk out of the shadows towards him.
Jensen's brain is already trying to figure out how the hell he managed to find him so quickly; super speed?
When Jared stops, he's close enough to touch. Jensen can feel Jared's warm breath on his cheeks. He wants to take a step away, give them both some space, but like a magnetic force, he's drawn to Jared and has been since the moment they met; he can't pull away.
“There's no one here, Jared. Just you and me. Please, just tell me the truth!”
He's standing in front of The Ghost, a superhero who's fierce and unpredictable and sometimes violent, and Jensen’s not scared at all. In fact, he's never felt more alive in his whole life.
When Jared doesn't respond, not a word or even a flinch, Jensen pushes past him, his shoulder smacking into what feels like a brick wall but is in fact Jared's side; and he can’t help but wonder—is his power super strength?
All he wants is to finally get to know the real Jared, the one who's been hiding behind leather and newspaper headlines. So he walks away, because he'd rather have nothing than a lie.
“What if I did have a secret?” Jared's words bounce off the dirty brick walls that feel like they're hemming them both in. “What if I have more than one?”
Through Jared's earnest tone, Jensen can hear something else too; fear.
Jensen doesn't turn around, but stops still. “Then I'd want to know everything, all of it, from the very beginning.”
“What if I told you that I woke up one day a year ago in an empty lab somewhere in the middle of New Mexico in agony, with no idea of who I am? And now, no matter the injury, I heal super fast.”
Jensen turns around to face Jared. The alley is thick with shadows, but Jensen can see a defeated slump in Jared's shoulders, and the gleam of pain and loneliness in his eyes. He can't help but wonder if this is the first time he's seeing the real Jared, with his barriers down; exposed in every way that he can be.
“I know who you are, Jared; you're a good man who takes care of this city and everyone in it. The rest we can figure out together.”
“I heal so fast, I don't even know if I can age, Jensen. And if I can't do that, how I am supposed to build a life with you when I can't grow old with you? You deserve so much more than me. You deserve a better life; a normal life.”
Jensen can hear Jared's breath bursting out of lungs like he's just ran a marathon, the vulnerability in his words is so stark and clear, so unlike the Jared he used to know. But in the last few minutes Jared's shared more about himself than he ever has before.
Jensen takes a stop forward. “Do you think I really care about any of that? All I want is you.”
“But there's more, Jensen. So much more. The things I've done, the things I could have done...”
Despite Jared's words, Jensen finds himself wanting to hear everything about Jared; the good, the bad, and everything in between.
The Ghost saved his life a year ago, shoving him out of the way of a speeding bullet that would have killed him, and tearing the gun out of a junkie's grip. Jensen's adoration of The Ghost was born that day, and Jensen can't imagine Jared saying anything that would change that.
Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen, and takes a step back. “I have to do this alone. I can't ask you to take this journey with me.”
Jensen reaches out, his hand gripping the soft cotton of Jared's sweater. “You're not asking me. I'm telling you that this is what I want.”
“But-”
“No, Jared, we're in this together now.”
A soft smile digs dimples into Jared's cheeks, his eyes shining in the dim lighting.“Well, maybe I do need someone to watch my six, and keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Jensen's never felt so close to Jared before, and all he wants to do is burrow down deeper into this man, until there isn't a inch that he doesn't know by heart.
“Damn right, you do!”
Jared takes Jensen's hand, and knots their fingers together so tightly it feels like he'll never let go. “In that case, we've got a lot to talk about, you and I.”
The End
Pairing: J2
Rating: PG13
Any warnings: Language
It's the first place he thought of—their favourite watering hole. But now that he's sitting in a crowded bar, a football game blaring on the wall-mounted big screen and people crammed into every available corner, Jensen's mistake is as clear as day; he shouldn't be doing this here.
At the other side of the sticky table, he can barely hear whatever Jared's talking about. Instead, Jensen focuses on Jared's big, capable hands as they absent-mindedly push up the sleeves of his sweater. Jensen would recognize those hands anywhere.
“You OK?” Jared asks, his smile slipping in concern. “I mean, I'm telling you the most exhilarating story about my computer issues, and you look like you're gonna hurl or something.”
After a sleepless night of playing this out in his head, Jensen still has no idea what to say, or even where to begin. So he pulls out the manila envelope from inside his jacket pocket and slides it across the table to Jared, his stomach twisting itself into knots.
Jared frowns, and then reaches inside the envelope and lays out the black-and-white photographs one by one, his gaze flicking from one to another before finally settling on one particular image.
It's Metro City's very own superhero, The Ghost, dressed head to toe in dark leather, his face just the hint of a profile, obscured by a hood. He's standing over an unconscious man, a discarded gun lying just out of reach. The street lighting is dim, but it hits something dark and shiny on The Ghost's shoulder, and one arm is pressed tightly against his ribs.
But it's the little girl's frightened face as she peeks around from behind The Ghost's legs, reaching tentatively for his hand, that really sells the photograph. She'd been kidnapped two days ago, her face plastered on every newspaper and TV screen in the city.
When Jared looks up from the photo, Jensen sees a flicker of relief before it's replaced with a smile so huge and bright that Jensen feels like he's orbiting the sun.
“Jensen, this is great. I mean, this could be the big break that'll get you that corner office you've got your eye on!”
“So you think I should call my editor? Get it published?” Jensen's playing this cautiously, studying every one of Jared's moves carefully; the way his eyes don't move from Jensen, and his hands don't shake as he tips the long neck of his beer for a drink.
“I mean you can't see his face, but still, no one has a picture of The Ghost, Jensen. No one. This is pure gold!” Jared's body language is relaxed and open, and his hands move excitedly, like he means everything he's saying. “You could win awards for this photo, and I don't know how much these are worth, but it's gotta mean something for your career, right?”
And damn Jared for saying everything that Jensen wanted him to say. Everything apart from the truth, that is.
Jensen looks over his shoulder, but no one is paying them the slightest bit of attention. He leans over the table, his finger tapping on the photo of The Ghost. “I know, Jared.”
His gaze locks on Jared, hard and unyielding, because really, what does he actually know about the man sitting in front of him? Jensen knows he works from home, something in computers, but he's never been inside his place, never really heard him talk about his life before he moved to the city, and Jensen doesn't know anything about his family either.
Jared is a mystery.
And he's damn good at keeping it that way too; making people think they're really close to him, deflecting personal questions, making people feel easy and relaxed around him, all smiles and contagious laugh, with a larger than life personality to match. He's nothing but warm and inviting, and people flock to him because of that.
But it's bullshit. It's all utter bullshit.
“For once, I was actually in the right place, at the right time.” There's a roar of yells at the referee's bad call, but Jensen carries on. “I heard the gunshots, and I saw The Ghost take a hit but still save that girl, and I've got the pictures to prove it.”
Most cities as large as Metro City have their very own superhero, but the The Ghost is different; he shies away from the public's attention; no interviews, no photos, no public appearances. No one knows what he looks like, or who he is, or anything about him. No one even knows what his superpower is, and it's become everyone's favourite topic of speculation.
Jensen taps his finger on the shadowy man in the photograph. The camera couldn't capture movement—like that characteristic bounce to his step that Jensen had seen that night and so many times before. But what the frozen moment in time did reveal was as familiar to Jensen as the man sitting across from him: that admirable shoulder-to-hip ratio, the slope of the nose, the broad thumbs and long fingers.
It was like putting together the pieces of a puzzle, and when they came together, Jensen had recognized the man. After all, he'd been staring at him for over a year now, imaging the kind of life they could share since the minute they first met in this bar. “This is you. You're The Ghost!”
Jared's smile is wide, his eyebrows raised. “You think that I fight crime in my spare time? That I, what? Practice fight training in my tiny studio apartment? I mean I'm flattered, but Jensen, this guy looks like he's been shot, and I'm fine.” Jared sits back in his chair, and spreads his arms. “See?”
That almost stops Jensen in his tracks. The Ghost had been hurt, hadn't he? But maybe not—maybe that dark gleam in the streetlight wasn't blood. Jensen leans closer into Jared's space, shaking his head. “You had no idea I was there, and you froze when you saw me in my car holding my camera. But then it all clicked into place, and I felt like I could finally understand you, and all the little mysteries surrounding you suddenly made sense. ”
Jared's gaze drops to the tabletop, but he doesn't respond.
Jensen takes a deep breath. “I'm not going to tell anyone who you are. You know me, Jared, your secret is safe with me. I mean, hell, all I've talked about since we met is The Ghost! He's --no you're-- saving my city, the city I grew up in. This is my home, and you know that I owe The Ghost everything for what he's doing, and for what he did for me. I'm on your side, and I'd never do anything to jeopardize that.”
Jensen searches Jared's face, hoping that he'll see a sign, no matter how small, that Jared is caving, that he's letting this façade crack, to prove to Jensen what he knows is true: Jared is Metro City's superhero.
“I care about you, Jared, I always have. I want to get to know you, all of you, and I...I want us to have a future together. But I need you to tell me the truth.”
There's a pause, and then the bar erupts into cheers and screams as a touchdown is scored.
When Jared finally meets Jensen's gaze, his eyes are filled with sadness. “I'm sorry, Jensen.”
It’s clear: Jared either doesn't want him or doesn't trust him. Either way, the rejection is just too much, and Jensen doesn't know what else to do, but leave. Grabbing the envelope, he stands up so quickly he knocks his chair over, but he doesn't turn back.
Outside the air is fresh but cold, the pavement twinkling with frost as he takes a sharp left turn down an alley, not quite running, but not strolling either. He dodges trash cans and wooden crates, his nostrils barely picking up the scent of rotting food and sewage. One block passes, then another. He rolls up the envelope, and tucks it into his jacket, close to his chest, where he probably should have left it in the first place.
This was a stupid plan; what was Jared supposed to say to him in a bar full of people anyway? But it's not everyday that you find out that someone close to you is a superhero; that he's living a double life, helped get dozens of dirty cops off the streets; that he busts drugs dealers, gun smugglers and petty thieves; that he's done more for this city in a year than anyone else ever has in the city's entire history.
But Jensen isn't naive. The Ghost has broken laws, and is constantly toeing the line between what's right and what's wrong in order get results. The press play on it too; one month he's a hero, and the next he's a criminal that should be locked up along with the drug dealers and thieves that he apprehended.
The beatings, the blackmail, the threats; they all make it hard for Jensen to defend The Ghost, because he's not sure if he believes that the end justifies the means. He often wonders if The Ghost struggles with that too. If only Jensen could reach him, he could help to steer him into the light, and shoulder some of that burden.
And shit, Jensen really should have handled this differently; gone somewhere quieter, more personal, encouraged Jared to share his secret instead of accusing him, and practically outing him in public.
He kicks an empty beer can in frustration, watching as it tumbles along the broken concrete. When he looks up he sees a tall silhouette up ahead, and Jensen stops dead in his tracks as he sees Jared walk out of the shadows towards him.
Jensen's brain is already trying to figure out how the hell he managed to find him so quickly; super speed?
When Jared stops, he's close enough to touch. Jensen can feel Jared's warm breath on his cheeks. He wants to take a step away, give them both some space, but like a magnetic force, he's drawn to Jared and has been since the moment they met; he can't pull away.
“There's no one here, Jared. Just you and me. Please, just tell me the truth!”
He's standing in front of The Ghost, a superhero who's fierce and unpredictable and sometimes violent, and Jensen’s not scared at all. In fact, he's never felt more alive in his whole life.
When Jared doesn't respond, not a word or even a flinch, Jensen pushes past him, his shoulder smacking into what feels like a brick wall but is in fact Jared's side; and he can’t help but wonder—is his power super strength?
All he wants is to finally get to know the real Jared, the one who's been hiding behind leather and newspaper headlines. So he walks away, because he'd rather have nothing than a lie.
“What if I did have a secret?” Jared's words bounce off the dirty brick walls that feel like they're hemming them both in. “What if I have more than one?”
Through Jared's earnest tone, Jensen can hear something else too; fear.
Jensen doesn't turn around, but stops still. “Then I'd want to know everything, all of it, from the very beginning.”
“What if I told you that I woke up one day a year ago in an empty lab somewhere in the middle of New Mexico in agony, with no idea of who I am? And now, no matter the injury, I heal super fast.”
Jensen turns around to face Jared. The alley is thick with shadows, but Jensen can see a defeated slump in Jared's shoulders, and the gleam of pain and loneliness in his eyes. He can't help but wonder if this is the first time he's seeing the real Jared, with his barriers down; exposed in every way that he can be.
“I know who you are, Jared; you're a good man who takes care of this city and everyone in it. The rest we can figure out together.”
“I heal so fast, I don't even know if I can age, Jensen. And if I can't do that, how I am supposed to build a life with you when I can't grow old with you? You deserve so much more than me. You deserve a better life; a normal life.”
Jensen can hear Jared's breath bursting out of lungs like he's just ran a marathon, the vulnerability in his words is so stark and clear, so unlike the Jared he used to know. But in the last few minutes Jared's shared more about himself than he ever has before.
Jensen takes a stop forward. “Do you think I really care about any of that? All I want is you.”
“But there's more, Jensen. So much more. The things I've done, the things I could have done...”
Despite Jared's words, Jensen finds himself wanting to hear everything about Jared; the good, the bad, and everything in between.
The Ghost saved his life a year ago, shoving him out of the way of a speeding bullet that would have killed him, and tearing the gun out of a junkie's grip. Jensen's adoration of The Ghost was born that day, and Jensen can't imagine Jared saying anything that would change that.
Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen, and takes a step back. “I have to do this alone. I can't ask you to take this journey with me.”
Jensen reaches out, his hand gripping the soft cotton of Jared's sweater. “You're not asking me. I'm telling you that this is what I want.”
“But-”
“No, Jared, we're in this together now.”
A soft smile digs dimples into Jared's cheeks, his eyes shining in the dim lighting.“Well, maybe I do need someone to watch my six, and keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Jensen's never felt so close to Jared before, and all he wants to do is burrow down deeper into this man, until there isn't a inch that he doesn't know by heart.
“Damn right, you do!”
Jared takes Jensen's hand, and knots their fingers together so tightly it feels like he'll never let go. “In that case, we've got a lot to talk about, you and I.”
The End
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