Matt's on his own in the kitchen, unless Sean counts Teddy as company, which he doesn't. He's never been a fan of dogs, even Jewel's. More important is the smell of coffee coming from the filter. Ignoring Matt's laughter, Sean makes a beeline for the coffee, draining half his first mug black before pausing to swear at the scalding heat.
"Good night?"
Just sex, Sean reminds himself sternly, and spends an extra few seconds refilling his mug, adding milk this time. He's not the slightest bit disappointed than Jensen's not there. "Yeah, thanks. Is...I guess Jewel's still sleeping off the whiskey, right?"
Matt's a great guy, he knows that, he's just...Jewel's a friend. Closer than his sister, in some ways. Teases him harder than Tara, for definite, but he can talk to Jewel, about anything. He's never felt comfortable talking to Matt about personal stuff, tension knotting between his shoulders right now. But Jewel, well, he could take her a coffee or something, find out what the fuck she was playing at last night, what she's said to Jensen. If Jen's said anything to her...
But no, Matt's shooting him a surprised look, Teddy stirring to come over and say hello, and it's automatic to squat down and pat the mutt, avoiding Matt's eyes, but not his words. "She's at work, Sean. Jen gave her a lift on his way in." The smile's clearly audible. "Not that she's in any fit state to work, God, you should have seen her go for the coffee. Even worse than you."
That's not exactly news, considering the state Jewel had been in last night. That Jen's gone and Jewel's gone is news, though, not exactly welcome news, either. Shit, what if Jewel's getting a full run-down of the night? Instinct insists that Jen wouldn't do that, but he doesn't know, not really. He knows where Jen's ticklish, knows the places that make him squirm, the soft hollow behind his ear that brings the sweet pleading moan, knows the sound of Jen's fall...but he's only spent one evening with the man. He doesn't know Jensen.
So fucking screwed by how much he wants to.
Just sex.
A hand falls warm on his shoulder, and Sean glances up, startled, to find Matt looking down at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Go easy on Jen, 'k? He's a good friend."
"Right." Sean's not quite sure whether to feel offended that Matt feels the need to tell him to go easy, or ask what kind of 'good friend' sneaks off without a word, or latch onto the notion that a 'good friend' is going to get in touch sometime. Somehow. He settles for standing up (though not far enough, apparently every man in this country's a fucking giant, he's still looking up at Matt) and taking another swallow of his coffee, shrugging off the hand. "I'm gonna go run through some poses." Hearing his own words, he winces inwardly, and tries for a smile. "Sorry, I just...mornings, y'know?"
Matt holds his gaze for a long moment and then nods, thankfully not pushing the subject any further. "Check your phone when you're done, right?"
Nodding back, Sean drains his mug and sets it down on the counter before heading back to the bedroom to go through his morning yoga routine. Matt's instruction confuses him rather, since he always checks his phone after yoga. Trying before just results in frustration, and he'd end up listening to the messages again afterwards to make sense of them, anyway. It's not like anyone's going to contact him about anything urgent, and he can definitely wait to hear Jewel crowing over her successful set-up.
Twenty minutes later, body at rest and mind somewhere approaching peaceful, he sits on the edge of the bed, picking up his cellphone from the nightstand, and finishes the final breathing exercises as it starts up.
Voicemail.
One new message. Not from Jewel - from a number he doesn't recognize. And a voice he does.
"Hey, Sean, this is kinda...shit, okay, I don't...I'm coming, woman, hold your horses! Look, I'm sorry I had to shoot through, schedules and stuff, you know how it is, right? Anyway, uh, this is Jensen, and I kinda stole your number while you were sleeping, but anyway, yeah, Jewel's about to kill me, I think, just...gimme a call sometime, yeah?"
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-05 10:43 pm (UTC)"Good night?"
Just sex, Sean reminds himself sternly, and spends an extra few seconds refilling his mug, adding milk this time. He's not the slightest bit disappointed than Jensen's not there. "Yeah, thanks. Is...I guess Jewel's still sleeping off the whiskey, right?"
Matt's a great guy, he knows that, he's just...Jewel's a friend. Closer than his sister, in some ways. Teases him harder than Tara, for definite, but he can talk to Jewel, about anything. He's never felt comfortable talking to Matt about personal stuff, tension knotting between his shoulders right now. But Jewel, well, he could take her a coffee or something, find out what the fuck she was playing at last night, what she's said to Jensen. If Jen's said anything to her...
But no, Matt's shooting him a surprised look, Teddy stirring to come over and say hello, and it's automatic to squat down and pat the mutt, avoiding Matt's eyes, but not his words. "She's at work, Sean. Jen gave her a lift on his way in." The smile's clearly audible. "Not that she's in any fit state to work, God, you should have seen her go for the coffee. Even worse than you."
That's not exactly news, considering the state Jewel had been in last night. That Jen's gone and Jewel's gone is news, though, not exactly welcome news, either. Shit, what if Jewel's getting a full run-down of the night? Instinct insists that Jen wouldn't do that, but he doesn't know, not really. He knows where Jen's ticklish, knows the places that make him squirm, the soft hollow behind his ear that brings the sweet pleading moan, knows the sound of Jen's fall...but he's only spent one evening with the man. He doesn't know Jensen.
So fucking screwed by how much he wants to.
Just sex.
A hand falls warm on his shoulder, and Sean glances up, startled, to find Matt looking down at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Go easy on Jen, 'k? He's a good friend."
"Right." Sean's not quite sure whether to feel offended that Matt feels the need to tell him to go easy, or ask what kind of 'good friend' sneaks off without a word, or latch onto the notion that a 'good friend' is going to get in touch sometime. Somehow. He settles for standing up (though not far enough, apparently every man in this country's a fucking giant, he's still looking up at Matt) and taking another swallow of his coffee, shrugging off the hand. "I'm gonna go run through some poses." Hearing his own words, he winces inwardly, and tries for a smile. "Sorry, I just...mornings, y'know?"
Matt holds his gaze for a long moment and then nods, thankfully not pushing the subject any further. "Check your phone when you're done, right?"
Nodding back, Sean drains his mug and sets it down on the counter before heading back to the bedroom to go through his morning yoga routine. Matt's instruction confuses him rather, since he always checks his phone after yoga. Trying before just results in frustration, and he'd end up listening to the messages again afterwards to make sense of them, anyway. It's not like anyone's going to contact him about anything urgent, and he can definitely wait to hear Jewel crowing over her successful set-up.
Twenty minutes later, body at rest and mind somewhere approaching peaceful, he sits on the edge of the bed, picking up his cellphone from the nightstand, and finishes the final breathing exercises as it starts up.
Voicemail.
One new message. Not from Jewel - from a number he doesn't recognize. And a voice he does.
"Hey, Sean, this is kinda...shit, okay, I don't...I'm coming, woman, hold your horses! Look, I'm sorry I had to shoot through, schedules and stuff, you know how it is, right? Anyway, uh, this is Jensen, and I kinda stole your number while you were sleeping, but anyway, yeah, Jewel's about to kill me, I think, just...gimme a call sometime, yeah?"