Jared had missed his calling in life. Screw the acting, he should have been a party planner, because by all the sparkly lights in the sky, this night rocked. Music blared out of the dozen speaker boxes, and if Jared hadn't already bribed his neighbors with free spa tickets, the cops would have been calling hours ago.
Chris and Steve were on the makeshift stage set up in Jared's yard, belting out something that wasn't quite rock, and wasn't quite country, but sure as hell got people dancing. Chad had three girls hanging from his arm, his charm turned up to the nth, and not a hint of wedding ring in sight. Across the yard, balancing empty beer bottles on their foreheads and wobbling around in circles, Tom and Mike were caught up in valiant attempts to out goof each other, while the guest of honor cheered them on.
Somehow, in all his host-y brilliance, he'd missed the birthday boy's arrival.
"David!" Jared bounded across the yard in a wide loop, avoiding the paddling pool filled with chilling bottles of beer, and clapped his guest on the back. "How's my favorite souled up vamp?"
David Boreanaz flashed him a cheeky smile and returned Jared's rib popping hug with buckets of enthusiasm. "Hey! I'm good! Thanks for pulling this together." He grinned at the gathering, obviously glad to be back in LA.
Jared waved off the thanks. He and David had been friends since high school. They'd planned each other's birthday bashes for seven years now. "How's life treating you up?"
Jared snorted and snagged a beer. "S'good." He grinned. "Man, it's been too fucking long!"
"Four months, dude." David nodded. "And hasn't someone been busy? Jen and I went and saw House of Wax the other week." He sniffed dramatically. "My little boy, all grown up and fucking Paris Hilton."
As if Jared hadn't heard that one before. From his brother. From his neighbors. From his mailman. "No dude, that was Chad."
They both cast a glance over to the man in question in time to see Chad disappear around the side of Jared's house. Jared shuddered. Bastard better not contaminate his living space. "Speaking of fucking, you bring this Jen chick with you? I wanna meet the girl who's got you picking out lace curtains."
For a moment, David looked as if Jared had slapped him. Just before Jared could ask, his mind turning down the route of messy break-ups or surprise pregnancies, David sniggered. Jared watched dumbly as he doubled over, clutching at his ribs and howling.
"Do you need, like, a doctor or something?" Jared asked, bemused as David chuckled and shook. "Dude!"
David held up and hand and shook his head. "Come on, man," He grinned, his shoulders still shaking with mirth. "Let's introduce you two."
Jared obediently followed his buddy across the yard, to a small gathering of highly drunk people playing Twister. Jared made a mental note to fetch a bucket. And some bleach. David grabbed the arm of one of the spectators, a tall man with short, dark blond hair, who turned around, smiled, and knocked Jared right off his metaphysical feet.
"Jared, meet Jensen Ackles." David said wryly. He turned to look at Jensen head on. "Jen, this is Jared."
Somewhere between being beaten senseless by pretty, and hearing David's introduction, Jared figured he must have missed something.
One, David wasn't gay. Two, David wasn't gay for guys. Three, David wasn't gay for guys with such long eyelashes. He forgot to think about four as soon as a hand was held out for him to shake. Right. Handshakes. Polite thing to do, and all.
"Nice to meet you." He said, remembering just in time that he was an actor and thus had no excuse for sounding either dumbstruck or weirded out.
Jensen's beaming smile was as bright as the headlights of the truck Jared had just been hit by. He turned to David and made several quick gestures with his hands. David smiled like a love-struck thirteen year-old and nodded.
"He says that it's nice to meet you, and the party is great." David translated.
David. Who was gay. For a guy. A pretty guy. Who was deaf.
Jesus. Time to break out the hard stuff.
Mike tripped over and fell into the paddling pool at just the right time to provide Jared with a speedy exit.
*****
Three hours, four bottles of Corona, and a bag of pretzels later, and Jared had fully abandoned his role of gracious host. Instead he'd set up camp on the roof of his bathroom, watching over the party below with a lazy air of disinterest.
David wasn't gay. That sort of thing came with warning signs, right? Okay, so the guy wore pink, but then so did Jared, and Jared was straight, thank you very much. Steve wore pink as well, but that was Steve. Steve was in a class of his own.
There hadn't been boyfriends. Jared would have noticed something like that. David wasn't the sort to fuck a girl…guy…and leave them.
Which meant Jensen was the first.
Too pretty. Never trust the pretty.
Pretty always ended badly. Helen of Troy. Perfect example. David and Jensen were going to result in the downfall of a country. Or LA, at the very least.
One more bottle, and Jared had a plan. They both had some down time. Trip to Texas, bottle of Jose, that strip club 'round the back of Paulies…then it would be Jensen who?
And for that matter, what kind of dude had a name like Jensen, anyway?
A strong hand smacked him around the back of the head. Blindly, Jared snatched at it, "Fuck off, Chad. I ain't in the mood for-" A pad of paper dropped into his lap, and the object of Jared's drunken mental ramblings sunk into a cross-legged slouch on the narrow roof.
"How'd you get out here?" He glared, remembering only at Jensen's eye roll that they weren't going to be sharing any sparkling conversations.
Jensen grinned, either oblivious to Jared's discomfort, or uncaring. He reached into Jared's lap, snagged the pad, and with a dark red brio scribbled a line right across the unblemished paper.
Ur being a jerk
Five beers were too many, because when Jared squinted at the words, they looked remarkably like an insult. He blinked, then read them again.
"Dude! What the fuck?" He was being a twat? Jensen elbowed him sharply. Warm fingers gripped Jared's chin and twisted his head so Jensen would see him better. Getting the idea, Jared repeated his exclamation of disbelief.
All it earned him was another eye roll.
He'd still ur BF
Which, okay, hurt. David was the one who had kept stum on the gay part. They were best friends. It wasn't like Jared would abandon him for being straight with it. Pardon the pun.
A dark eyebrow rose expectantly. Jensen was just pretty all over, even in the dim light. And the bastard's fingers were still on Jared's fucking jaw.
Talk 2 him.
Jared shook his head, wondering if there was any facial expression that could add 'fucking way' to his 'no'.
Talk 2 him
Jensen underlined his last sentence.
"Or what?" Jared mocked. Jensen could obviously lip read pretty well, because he grinned and wrote,
I'll put u in pigtails & paint ur nails pink
Okay. Jared's night was starting to consist of one long stream of what the fucks?
Jensen grinned devilishly.
U mad at him, or me?
"I ain't fucking mad!" Christ…Jensen couldn't know he shouted that, could he?
The red pen went back up to the first line on the page and tapped
Ur a jerk
"Fuck you."
U ain't my type
Okay. And why the fuck not? Jared shook his head. Not the issue here. "He didn't tell me." It was probably a good thing Jensen was deaf. Too many beers and a little friendly confusion, and Jared reverted to whining like a five year old.
Jensen frowned. Adorable. An adorable frown. Jared shook himself and cursed the beer. Again. Not the issue here.
Did u ask?
Was he supposed to? Was "dude, you like cock?" now a standard question amongst male companions? Hell, this was LA. Maybe it should be.
"Fine." Jared sighed. He knew he'd drunk too much when he's been out argued by a mute guy. "I'll talk to him. Happy?"
Jensen nodded, beaming.
Ecstatic.
"Bitch."
Jerk
*****
"He's pretty awesome, ain't he?" David slumped down on the grass, two bottles in hand. Jensen had all but dragged Jared from his hiding place, calling him an antisocial fuck. Or rather looking at him as if he were an antisocial fuck.
Given that this was his party, he figured Jensen could have been on the money.
Things were slowly dying down around them. Chris and Steve still strummed at the guitars, but the music was now more jam session than gig, and they occasionally burst into fits of unsurpassable giggles.
"I'm pissed at you, man." Jared felt the need to clear the air, so he threw the comment out into the open. That was what friends did. And Jensen had put the pen right on it. They were BF. BFFeva, and all that girly shit.
David shrugged, the same mannerism that Jared had seen a hundred times or more. "Yeah, well, you're a jerk."
Jared snorted. "So I've heard."
"If they shoe fits…"
Across the yard, Jensen sat on Jared's fence, grinning around a beer bottle as Mike, Tom, Chad and James had wheelbarrow races around the lawn.
"So." Jared said, breaking the silence that had appeared from nowhere.
David nodded. "So."
"He's really deaf?"
"Yep." David almost sounded proud.
"He's kinda…I dunno…pretty. For a guy."
Across the yard, Jensen flipped him the finger.
David grinned and hid a laugh behind his bottle. "And he's real good at lip reading."
"Fuck." Jared sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. And a hangover kit.
"Yep."
"You gonna crash here tonight?" Jared's guest room actually had David's name on the door. David's, and Chad's, and the word assmunch, but that was Chris' doing, not his.
"You mind?" David looked at Jensen, and no, Jared did not want to think of the two of them getting smoochy in his spare room.
He shrugged. "What are friends for?"
David's beaming smile was almost as bright as Jensen's. He slapped Jared on the back. "Thanks, man. I'm glad we talked."
Yeah, Jared thought morosely, wondering if any of the bottles in the punctured paddling pool were still full.
*****
Jared was still shower damp when he descended the stairs and made his way to the kitchen. The radio was playing some smooth country rock and Jensen was silent as he beat several eggs into the pancake mix. Jared wondered how he should act. Normally he'd issue a sunny hello, or if it were Chad or Mike, he'd sneak up on them and do a little shit scaring. Jensen wouldn't have heard him if he'd brought a brass band down from the bathroom, and it seemed a little rude to scare the crap out of someone whilst they were fixing breakfast.
He was still pondering the best course of action when David breezed into the kitchen, dark slacks loose and red t-shirt the color of Jared's potted roses. He wrapped an arm around Jensen's waist and pressed a gentle good-morning kiss to the side of his neck.
The small smile that touched Jensen's lips was even more devastating than his full on grin. Jared watched them for several minutes, then turned tail and headed back for another shower, cursing all the way.
Read Part Two It's not stalking, it's research. in the Louder Than Words 'Verse by SplashPink
