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06 July 2008 @ 01:27 pm
Better Than Me, PG to NC-17, RPS/SPN  
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the creators of Supernatural, the band Hinder, or the actors of the CW and other's mentioned in this fic that are based off of real persons.
Author: write_prettiful
Title: Better Than Me - Chapter Seven
Rating: This part is PG, but it will transgress to NC-17
Warnings: Male/Male relationships, real person slash, some mild language, and mpreg mentions throughout the story.
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jason Manns, Steve Carlson, Christian Kane, Ash Harvelle, Chad Michael Murray, Michael Rossenbaum, Tom Welling, Jared Padalecki, Mary Winchester, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and honestly? A whole bunch of other CW and non CW related persons, along with some OC's thrown in.
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles, more in the future.
Story Summary: Dean Winchester has always been a charmer, a real ladies -and gentlemen's, man. Yet when he meets sweet, shy, and somewhat haunted Jensen Ackles, sparks fly between the simple nanny, trying to look after his ill son, and the complicated rocker, living life on his terms and his alone.
Chapter Summary: The band plays another gig and Dean finds himself stuck with an apology to make.

banner by the amazing lillianporter

Jared studied Dean for a long moment before he finally looked down at Jensen, curled against his side and head pillowed in his lap as Jared sat against the headboard of the bed, fingers trailing softly through Jensen's messy blond hair. “Max is Jensen's story to tell.”

Dean accepted that with a nod and pulled the covers up to his shoulders as he faced the far wall, eyes wide open. He didn't drift off again till Jared's own loud, obnoxious snoring, blending oddly harmoniously in with the sunlight peeking through the Hotel room curtains.


Jensen woke with a crick in his neck and puffy eyes. He groaned and rubbed them softly, snuggling into the warmth of a body next to his own. His hand trailed up and he sighed, burrowing into warm flesh and gently cupping warm-



Both men flailed helplessly, trying to get away from each other in the tangle of their own limbs, horror tracing lines around their furrowed brows and the corners of their mouths. Sitting at separate ends of the bed they glared, the heat flaring in both their eyes matching that of a mass wildfire.

“Man, you pervert! Why'd you have me between your legs?!”

“Dude! I'm the pervert? I'm the pervert? You're the one that nearly pulled my balls off!”

“That's disgusting, Jared!”

“I know, Jensen!”

Their chest's rose and fell heavily, eyes narrowed hatefully for a long moment before Jared's face crunched up and he began to giggle. Jensen's brow furrowed and he tilted his head in confusion, wiping his hand off on his t-shirt clad chest. “What? Seriously man, what's so funny?”

“It kinda tickled dude,” Jared's eyes danced with mirth and he completely lost it when Jensen gave a disgusted growl, tossing the blankets over Jared's head as the younger man howled with laughter. “Jennybean! Aww c'mon man, you know I was only playing! Jenny! Jeeennseeeen my love! Aww, stop blushing, you know I love yooof!” He cried out as Jensen launched his full body weight at him, arms and legs flying as they wrestled. Jared cried out as a foot struck his rib and Jensen could've sworn he'd have a goose egg the size of Jared's ego, by the end of the morning.

A noise from the other bed caught their attention and both blue and hazel eyes landed on tired emerald hues. Dean arched a brow and the younger men disentangled themselves from each other. Jensen folded his legs Indian style and Jared lazily spread his own set of massive limbs, leaning back on his forearms to study Dean. The older man didn't say anything for a long moment, his gaze avoiding Jensen's before he finally stood and headed for the closet, digging through his clothing before walking back out of it with a pair of jeans and a shirt in view tossed over one of his arms. “Taking a shower,” he mumbled, opening the washroom door and shutting it with a pronounced click. It took only a moment before the sounds of running water, pelting the porcelain tub resonated within the room.

Jensen's eyes lowered to the bed spread, picking idly at the smooth material. “So, I guess he's still pissed about yesterday, huh?”

Large hand cupping Jensen's shoulder, Jared just gave the limb a firm squeeze and stood up, using Jensen as a support. He stretched tall, arms soaring above his body and groan growling from the pit of his stomach. His arms dropped and Jared gave a soft smile to his friend. “He'd be crazy to be pissed at someone like you, Jen. He's just,” An odd hand gesture and then, “Different.”

Smiling half heartedly, Jensen had to give his friend some credit for trying. It wasn't as if Jensen felt bad about what he'd said to Dean yesterday, he'd never regret defending a friend. Yet the guilt at the expression on the man's face, that hit home. Jensen didn't remember much of last night, no more than a nightmare and Jared soothing him back to sleep, just like he had when they'd been kids in University. There had to have been more to it though, more that'd happened during his frightened fight between sleep and consciousness. What had he done? What could've made Dean change from gruff and apologetic to stoic and -impersonal.

It hurt, caused a stirring of remorse in dark crevices of his heart he hadn't allowed entrance to since Jason's death. Hadn't that time in the shower, after he'd hit his head.. Hadn't it meant something to the older man? Or was it just him, being too foolish and naive to realize a shut down when it smacked him in the face?

“I'll be down in a few minutes,” Jensen told Jared, giving a smile of encouragement, that small action speaking words he feared that if he spoke, he'd crack. 'I'm okay. Just give me a minute to pull myself together. It's gonna be fine, I'm tough.'

Jared took in Jensen's form, still and stiff on the hotel mattress, his hazel hues hesitating on the washroom door before he nodded. Hands in his pockets he smiled and slouched a little. “Don't be too long, Jen, but -take your time, alright?” Jared turned and left, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

The moment he was gone, Jensen released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his chest aching from the rapid pounding of his heart. He could feel it coming, the panic, the insecurity. What if Dean never spoke to him again? What if he fired him? Hell, he'd already quit, hadn't he? Confusion melded into his common sense and not knowing truth from fiction, Jensen fell back onto the bed, arm flinging over his face.

The sound of the water hammering on porcelain stopped and Jensen flinched, wanting to stay curled up. He couldn't bare to see Dean though, see his reaction to him and so he stood, changing into a casual outfit and slipping into his shoes before leaving the room, the door clicking shut softly behind him.
* | | * | | *

The music was loud in the large arena and from his spot in the directors booth, Jensen saw everything. The way the light made Steve's hair shine a golden blond, the way Chad almost danced across the stage when he got into his music. The band looked good and played even better. But it wasn't them that Jensen concentrated on, no. It was the sinewy muscles rippling beneath Dean's threadbare t-shirt that made his mouth go dry, the biceps twitching with every strum of his guitar. The warm, husky voice that seemed to go through him like a fine brandy. It was so good, so intoxicating that Jensen just waited for the moment it would all fall apart.

That moment came when Dean spoke to the crowd, voice rough like it always got when he was performing and words captivating. The music started, even making Ash look serious for a moment. Then the lyrics hit him. “I try to remember to forget you, but I break down every time I do.” Dean's eyes flashed open, staring at Jensen high up in the box he'd thought he was safe in, safe from the heat of that gaze. Apparently not. “It's left me less than zero, beat down and bruised.”

Jensen couldn't take it. Had to get out of there as soon as possible. It hurt too much, the way the words of the song, How Long that had been written so long ago -no pun intended- seemed to be meant just for him. He rushed from the directors box, racing down the steep, narrow aisle, fighting for invisibility and escape. The door, under his palms as he pushed through it was both scalding and soothing.

“I can't see him with you.”

The words chased Jensen and he raced blindly down the hall, legs burning and lungs filling. He had to get away, it hurt too much. He couldn't understand it -didn't want to. Damn all Winchester's to hell! He hated them, every last one for making him like this. Ever since he'd taken the job he hadn't had any form of control over his emotions and he hated it. Hated it was a deep passion. And yet.. he yearned for it, yearned for the knowledge of their past.

Before he knew it he was on the docks. The arena Impalica was playing at was right on the waterfront, docks running out from the shore with boats all drawn up to them. It was beautiful, the lights from inside the boats and the arena windows making the water look mystical. Taking a seat, he slowly pulled off his shoes and socks, letting his feet fall over the edge of the long dock after he'd rolled up his pants.

The water was cool and soothed him, ridden Jensen of his hectic thoughts.
* | | * | | *

“Hey Dean, I need to talk to you.”

Dean nodded at the rest of the band, watching them leave for the after party. “I'll be there in a minute,” He called, turning his attention to Sam as he put his guitar down. “What?”

The look Sam was giving Dean should've been warning enough, but the moment Sam's arms folded over his chest, Dean knew he was in for it. Sammy was in his full on lecture pose and it'd take a hell of a tornado to move him from his sturdy position. “Jensen.”

Dean blinked. “Jensen?” Brows furrowing, he crouched down, busying himself with putting his guitar in it's case so Sam wouldn't realize the effect that one, simple word had on him.

“Yeah, Jensen. Might remember him. Good kid, took off during the second set of the concert, no one can find him.” Sam gave a light snort. “His giant's going insane trying to find him, although I'd watch my neck if I were you, Jared looks like he's after blood.”

Dean locked the case and stood, shifting his weight a little as his head tipped back. “And this matters because...”

Sam gave a light huff, rolling his eyes. “Because you hurt him, Dean! You hurt the kid and now it's your responsibility to make amends. Jensen's the best thing to happen to his band since what's his face left you on your ass and you damn well know it.”

Dean's jaw clenched, chest pressing against Sam's as he crowded into his space. “Don't you dare bring up Ben or I swear to god, Sammy-”

“Easy Dean,” Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder, taking a step back so that they weren't crowding into each other anymore. “All I'm saying is that you need to stop running. You and Jen, you got something going for you's, but if you keep treating him like he don't mean anything to you... You'll lose him Dean, before you get a chance to even start. You'll lose him.”

There was silence for a long moment, Dean fighting with the words, willing them away, not wanting them to sink in. The thing with Sam though was that he was good at making things get to a person, forcing them to actually think and use logic. 'Fucking psychic little freak.' Dean thought bitterly, although there was affection there too. That soon changed though, another thought creeping in.

“He's got a boyfriend, dude.”

That seemed to shock Sam and his brows knit together in slight confusion. “No he doesn't.”

A dry look on his face, Dean folded his own arms over his chest and let out a breath of air. “Yeah, he does. I don't go after another man's woma- er, man.”

Shock slowly changing to amusement, Sam cocked his head lightly. “Oh? And who is this guy? You got a name?”

Not missing a beat, Dean nodded jerkily. “Mack. Or some bitch ass name like that.”

“Mack?” Dean expected the confusion from Sam, but what he didn't expect was a sudden burst of laughter from his usually serious brother. “You mean Max? Dean, dude. Just shut up and go. Go talk to Jensen, apologize for being an ass. And make this shit better so I can finally have clean socks again.”

He would've stayed to argue but there was something in his brother's look, something unreadable and yet plain as day. Nodding he stepped around Sam, his only answer a firm pat on Sam's shoulder.
* | | * | | *

Sprawled out on the dock, hands stacked behind his head and feet doing little circles in the water, Jensen felt almost as if he were home again. If he closed his eyes, he could even smell the familiar scent of Max's baby powder.


Jensen jerked, the voice startling him and he gasped, gripping onto a wooden panel on the dock so as not to roll into the lake. “Who -Dean! Jesus you scared me.” Jensen straightened, feet still dangled over the edge of the dock.

Dean gave a shrug and hesitated for a moment, nodding at the space beside Jensen. “That seat taken?”

Shaking his head, Jensen watched closely as Dean sat, his own shoes and socks coming off and pant legs rolling up before bare skin breached the surface of the cool water. They didn't talk, just sat there, the silence awkward and far from the easy way it had been only days ago, when they'd treated each other like old friends. It was hard to believe that Jensen had been working for the band for only a couple weeks. It felt like so much longer, the bonds that the band and him had made so strong and family like.

He was carried deep into his thoughts, so when Dean spoke, he almost missed the soft words. “I'm sorry.”

Nodding slowly, Jensen made to speak but Dean beat him to it, his eyes focused on something distant on the lake only he could see, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if the apology took every last bit of his strength. “I've been an ass and you didn't ...” He stopped, jaw locking. He was fighting with himself, Jensen could tell from the rigid way he was sitting, the straight line of his back and the way his eyes lost the little creases that showed on the sides whenever he was content or happy. A sigh escaped him and his hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out for something but couldn't seem to make himself. “You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I'm -I'm really sorry Jen. You don't gotta forgive me and I know I don't deserve it but-”

“It's okay, I forgive you.” Jensen gave a small smile. His heart still ached from the memory of Dean's look while he'd sang, as if somehow Jensen had betrayed him, but he couldn't hold that against Dean. He couldn't hold anything against Dean, not with the ever growing emotions he was slowly finding himself feeling for the older man. Even with Dean being a good six years older than Jensen, himself only twenty one, it didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter.

Dean licked his lips, a hesitant smile on his lips. “Yeah?”

Smiling softly, Jensen timidly placed his hand on top of Dean's and nodded. “Yeah.”

The silence was more companionable and when Jensen leaned his shoulder lightly against Dean's as they stared out at nothing, both their bodies warmed just a little bit more.

“I was wondering.. And you don't have to answer, but I wanted to ask you something.”

Jensen tore his eyes off the shimmering lake and gave Dean a curious, open look, his blue eyes round and innocent. “What is it?”

Dean struggled with the question for a moment before he got the nerve to ask. “Who's ..Who's Max?”

Jensen froze.

crazy_me_lol on July 6th, 2008 10:36 pm (UTC)
Awesome chapter I hope the boys can make things right. lol.