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Domestic Bliss and Other Oxymorons by YourPeripheryJensen calls his mom once a week, without fail.Once, just a couple months after he first moved to L.A., he'd gone eleven days without callinghome. He was living in some shitty studio apartment on the outskirts of Koreatown and he hadn'teven gotten around to plugging in his answering machine.On the twelfth night of not calling, he'd stumbled home from Sunset with some pretty blondeattached to his mouth, fumbled the key in the lock, and opened the door to find his mother perchedat the edge of his futon, suitcase by her feet. "Surprise," she'd said, not smiling.Jensen doesn't like surprises, so come hell or high water—drought, famine, locusts, or ChadMichael Murray—Jensen calls his mother once a week.The conversations are always pretty much the same. She'll tell him all about the carnival fundraiser she's helping to organize for the church, or complain about how long it took to get her oil changed,or she'll go into extraordinary detail about the crap Cow, her dog, took all over the Oriental rug inthe dining room."He's just been so naughty lately. Pooping on the rug! Did I tell you he peed on your father?""No.""He peed on your father!""Cow is like a hundred and ten in dog years, Mom. He probably can't feel his asshole anymore,much less keep it in the off position long enough to make it outside.""Language, Jensen. Now, tell me how things are going for you. How's living with Jared?"That's the part of the conversation where his mom always checks out. As soon as she hands him thetalking stick, he usually hears the TV go on in the background or the telltale chime of her iMac booting up."I don't live with him. I've got an appointment with the realtor on Saturday morning.""Mmhmm.""But, since you asked, it sucks. He goes to bed at nine o'clock some nights and insists that the TV be off so he can get maximum REM. But when he's up at three-thirty in the morning making his protein shakes in the blender that you can hear from Mars, does he think about the fact that I'msleeping one room over? No. He does not.""Mmhmm.""Plus, he's always parking me in. Biggest driveway in the world, and he always manages to park his big-ass ridiculous truck at some bizarre angle that means I can't get out without making him movefirst.""Mmhmm."
 
"Mom? Are you even listening?""Mmhmm.""I've decided to quit acting and become a professional ride-pimper. My true dream is to put plasmascreens on the trunks of glorified minivans all over North America. No one will ever be bored at ared light again.""Mmhmm. I mean—what? I'm listening, sweetie, don't be silly. I'm just writing your aunt Gretchenan email."Jensen sighs. "I'm gonna let you go, Mom. I'll call you next week, okay? I love you.""Mmhmm," she says over the clack-click of her keyboard.-Jared has a dry-erase whiteboard tacked to his fridge. He and Sandy used to use it to leave eachother weird, cryptic love notes that Jensen didn't really want to try to figure out. Now, in purple marker, there's startlingly detailed drawing of a cock—a hairy, veiny, leaking cock  —and a hastily scrawled Ginsberg quote. The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction."What's up with the dick?" Jensen asks while they're cooking dinner. He's tossing garlic andoregano into a saucepan; Jared is dumping eighty boxes of spaghetti into a pot that's big enough for Jensen's entire family to sit comfortably inside."Well," Jared says, grinning and grabbing himself lewdly through his basketball shorts. He's stillsweaty and shirtless from the gym—he was headed for the shower when he got back in, but hesmelled food and got sidetracked. "I'm both a grower and a shower." He thrusts his hips out andJensen has to side-step to avoid getting humped."I meant on the fridge, asshole." Jensen feels his cheeks heat up and tosses a piece of diced onion atJared's face, and the fucker catches it in his mouth."Oh, that. I don't know; Chad did it while he was here this summer. He's got a thing for beat poets."Jared tilts his head and wrinkles his nose quizzically. "And big purple hairy balls."Jensen opens his mouth to respond, but opts to just shake his head. There's nothing to say aboutChad that hasn't been said. Jared sidles up close and makes an unsuccessful grab for Jensen's spoon.Jensen elbows him away. "Get off me, you sweaty sack of onion breath.""Shut up," Jared says. He leans over and huffs out a deliberate breath in Jensen's face, warm onion-flavored air against Jensen's cheek. "You love my natural odors." He takes a fresh spoon out of thedrawer and steals a taste of the sauce. "Dude. That's really fucking good.""It's not done yet," Jensen says. "Patience is a virtue."Jared hops up on the counter, his running shoes knocking against the cupboards beneath him. "Youknow something, Jensen Ackles?" he says, smiling, tomato sauce clinging to the corner of hismouth.
 
Jensen rolls his eyes, but indulges him. "What?""I think I'll keep you."-They've been filming in the green-screen Impala for five hours. Jensen's ass is starting to go numband his back aches. There's a leak in his air mattress, but he can't fucking find it, and every morninghe wakes up with just a thin layer of plastic between his back and Jared's hardwood floor. He'd buya new one, but there's no point when he's only going to be staying at Jared's house for a few moredays. He hopes.He checks his blackberry as the crew resets the lights for the night scene, grunting in annoyancewhile he reads through emails from his realtor."What?" Jared asks. He's bent forward, brow furrowed in concentration as he scrapes glue residueoff the glove compartment. It's been there forever, since he plastered fake naked pictures of Jensenthere sometime during the second season, insisting that they helped him stay in character."Why's Julie sending me four-bedroom listings? I'm one guy.""My house has four bedrooms," Jared says."Yeah, well, you're tacky. And irresponsible with your money," says Jensen. "Besides, only one of your bedrooms has an actual bed in it, so the others don't count."Jared straightens up away from the glove box and sucks the glue out from under his thumbnail. "Wecould get you a bed, man," he says.Jensen grabs Jared by the wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth. "Dude, you're eating three-year-old glue.""You think that's worse for me than fresh glue?" Jared asks. He sounds genuinely curious."Probably about the same amount of unhealthy, Jay.""Then I'm good," Jared says. "Fresh glue never gives me a stomach ache or anything." He shoveshis thumb back into his mouth.Jensen sighs and glares back down at his phone. "My fucking back hurts."Jared leans over and wipes his saliva-slick thumb on the sleeve of Jensen's leather jacket. "We couldget you a bed," he says again.-Watching Jared try to wedge himself between the TV and the wall to hook up his new five-discDVD player is much funnier than the Friends rerun in which Jensen had been feigning interest.Every time somebody makes the mistake of letting Jared actually see the balance in his own bank account, he has to run out and buy something ridiculous that he doesn't need. "Your old DVD player 
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