PART TWO: Miles From Nowhere - (J2, R)

[amypond45]

//**//**//

When Thanksgiving and Christmas loom in the near future, Jared knows it’s a long shot, but he asks Jensen to join him and his family anyway. It would feel wrong not to.

Of course, Jensen turns him down, shaking his head.

“I don’t do traditions,” he says.

“Sure, I get that,” Jared assures him. “I just want you to know you’re always welcome to join my family. My brother and his wife and kids always come from Portland for Thanksgiving with me and the folks, and we go down to Portland to share Christmas with them.”

Then comes the night, five weeks later, when they get snowed in and Jared can’t drive home.

“I’ve got four-wheel drive, Jensen,” Jared insists as they stand in front of the big window, watching the snow pile up. “I’ll be fine.”

Jensen shakes his head. “I’m not letting you go out in this,” he insists. “That’s what the guest room is for.”

In the guest room, Jared finds pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers, as well as a fresh change of clothes in his size. There are fresh towels in the bathroom, travel-size hair products, and soap.

Jensen had planned this. He knew this would happen, eventually. He knew Jared would stay overnight sometime.

Just not in Jensen’s bed.

As he stretches out in Jensen’s big, comfortable guest bed, Jared thinks about Jensen sleeping alone in his own bed, the bed where they had sex earlier. Jared wants to watch Jensen sleep. He wants to see the man when he’s not controlling everything around him, himself most of all. He wants to see Jensen wake up in the morning. He imagines Jensen rolling over, blinking and smacking his lips as he comes to consciousness, then smiling ever so slightly as he sees Jared watching him.

For once, Jared wants to catch Jensen unawares and vulnerable, wants to see through the armor Jensen wears all the time.

He wonders what would happen if he got up and crept down the hall, opened Jensen’s door, and slipped inside in the dark. What would Jensen do? Would he order Jared to leave? Would he be angry? Or would he sigh and pull the covers back, welcoming Jared into his bed to sleep with him, finally?

But Jared doesn’t think either scenario is likely. Jensen’s too careful, too controlled. Two-and-a-half months into their relationship, Jared knows exactly what Jensen would do.

His bedroom door would be locked. And if Jared knocked, all he would get would be Jensen’s gruff voice telling him to, “Go back to bed, Jared!”

So Jared lies still, taking even, measured breaths, fighting down the butterflies in his belly at the thought of seeing Jensen in the morning. He wonders if Jensen gets up early or sleeps late. Does he go down to make coffee before getting dressed? What does his hair look like after sleep?

But Jared knows the answers to all of those questions, too. Jensen’s strict self-control governs all of his actions. Jared’s pretty sure Jensen gets up at the same time every morning, does exactly the same things, follows the same routines. In the morning, he’ll be perfectly groomed and dressed before Jared sees him. The coffee will be brewed automatically at exactly the same time that it is every morning, and Jensen won’t come down until it’s done.

It’s even worse than he thought. When Jared gets up the next morning, Jensen’s gone. A neatly hand-written note lies next to the fresh-brewed coffee: “Help yourself to breakfast. See you next week! -J.”

Jared fights back his disappointment as he pours himself a cup of coffee and walks out to the living room to check on the view from the big window. It’s stopped snowing and the sun is out, turning the formerly-green landscape into sparkling whiteness for as far as the eye can see. Snow has piled up almost to the deck, and Jared estimates about four feet must have fallen during the night. He’ll need a shovel just to dig his truck out.

Jared finds shredded wheat in a cupboard, berries and bananas on the counter, milk and orange juice in the refrigerator. He sits forlornly at the breakfast island to eat, trying not to feel sorry for himself.

This is just part of who Jensen is. It’s nothing personal. Jensen compartmentalizes his life into neat little blocks, just like his handwriting. Jared will just need to work harder to crack the armor, that’s all.

Jared’s nothing if not persistent. Jensen’s detachment only strengthens Jared's resolve to get through to him.

As Jared heads out to his truck, he finds ski tracks in the snow, leading away from the house. He considers following them, confronting Jensen, forcing him to admit to his own stand-offishness. Jensen’s being incredibly rude, if nothing else. He owes Jared an apology.

But Jared knows better. Confrontation will only force Jensen deeper into his shell. He’ll be hurt and angry with Jared for following him when he’s clearly been dismissed. If Jensen’s not ready for a morning-after encounter, Jared should respect that.

Nevertheless, Jared can’t help feeling he’s being watched as he digs out his truck, then plows the driveway as he had promised to do. At least he’s got an excuse to come back earlier than next week, since snow is predicted again tomorrow night. If Jensen won’t let him in the house, that’s okay. He can follow rules, even arbitrary ones like Jensen’s.

It’s nearly ten in the morning by the time Jared clears the driveway and heads out for the main road, which has been cleared by the big county plows. He catches a glimpse of Jensen skiing around the corner of his house in his rearview mirror.

//**//**//

Jared stays overnight regularly after that. It’s easier than driving home in the dark and cold, and allows them more time to talk, drink, and have sex late into the evening. Jensen never questions him, just disappears in the morning, leaving his neat little notes instead of his presence.

Jared shows up earlier and earlier on his appointed days. Sometimes, Jensen’s waiting for him. They go skiing and snowmobiling together, or hit the slopes at the little local ski resort. Spout Springs Ski Resort only has two runs, and one of them is a “bunny hill” with a rope tow for beginners. Jared and Jensen are both good skiers, so they use the resort's only ski-lift, showing off for each other as they race down the mountain.

“You should let me take you to Mount Bachelor someday,” Jared says when they’re warming up by the fire later, sharing a bottle of Jensen’s best scotch. “Pure packed powder. Best skiing in Oregon.”

Jensen smiles, enigmatic as always, but Jared knows him. They won’t go on a trip that requires them to sleep overnight in a hotel together. Jensen’s not ready for that. It’s entirely possible he never will be.

Jared’s patient. For Christmas, he brings Jensen two bottles of locally-distilled whisky to replace the bottles they’ve been drinking. Jensen lets him into his music room for the first time, where he plays and sings for Jared on piano and guitar until Jared starts to cry.

“You’re so talented,” he gushes when Jensen stops. “I never knew you could do that.”

Jensen shrugs, but he seems pleased with Jared’s praise, and Jared feels like he’s won the lottery.

From then on, music gets added to their repertoire of evening activities, and Jared feels like he’s chipped away a little more of Jensen’s wall.

On their sixth-month anniversary, Jared brings Jensen a cake and presents him with the gift of a guitar that used to belong to Jared’s brother.

Jensen side-eyes him as he opens the case, pulls out the guitar with more than a little trepidation. Gifts are something they don’t do, except food and drink, of course.

“Jared.”

Jared shrugs. “It’s just sitting around the house, gathering dust,” he insists. “Figured somebody could put it to good use.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jensen breathes, running his hands lightly over the strings. “I can’t accept this, Jay. It’s too much.”

“It was your birthday last week, right?” Jared reminds him. “Consider it a birthday present.”

Jensen’s already got his head down, tuning the guitar, strumming a few chords. When he starts to sing, chills run up Jared’s spine. His eyes smart with tears. He takes a sip of his wine to hide his emotions and fortify himself for what’s coming.

“It’s been six months, Jen,” he says when Jensen’s song finishes.

Jensen looks up guardedly, and Jared almost loses his nerve.

“I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” Jared goes on before he has time to think. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who thinks we have a good thing going.”

“Jared.”

“Just hear me out,” Jared insists, reading the doubt in Jensen’s face but refusing to let it deter him. “I like you, Jensen. And I’m pretty sure you like me, too. I think we should think about taking this to the next level.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “The next level?”

“I want us to start spending more time together,” Jared says. “I want us to see if we can stand each other for more than one day a week. I know for my part, I’m totally monogamous, and I’m guessing you are, too, unless you’re sneaking off to a gay bar in Walla Walla that I don’t know about.”

Jensen puts his hand up for Jared to stop, but Jared’s not done.

“This thing between us is pretty much the best relationship I’ve ever had. And the truth is, I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you, Jensen, if I’m not already there. And I think you feel the same way.”

He pauses for Jensen’s reaction, but Jensen’s looking down at the guitar, frowning a little. Jared waits, because he’s said his piece and the ball really is in Jensen’s court now, but it isn’t easy. Jared’s never been a patient person, but with Jensen he’s tried his best.

“Huh,” Jensen says finally, still looking down at the guitar. “I never expected something like this, when I moved here.”

“Me neither,” Jared agrees. “I’m usually the love-em-and-leave-em type. Six months is a long time for me to be in a relationship. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve been with anybody for more than a month.”

Jensen looks up then, studying Jared’s face for a moment before looking away with a chuckle.

“You are not what I expected when you first showed up here with that cooler,” he says.

Jared nods. “You thought I was a crazed fan.”

“Not crazed.”

“You and me, we’re good together,” Jared says with conviction. “We bring out the best in each other.”

Jensen pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, strums the guitar idly for a long moment before he finally speaks.

“You know, I really do have a problem sleeping when somebody else is in the bed,” Jensen says. “I’m not just being a control freak. At least, not about that.”

Jared nods. “I can live with that,” he says carefully.

“And I like my time alone,” Jensen says. “I need time alone.”

Jared nods. “I totally get that. I promise you can have all the alone time you need.”

Jensen takes a deep breath, makes a face that’s somewhere between painful regret and reluctant acquiescence.

Jared will take it. It definitely beats outright rejection. Not for the first time, Jared wonders what caused Jensen to be so guarded. Why is it so hard for him to take a chance on love?

“So how much together-time are we talking?” Jensen asks. “I mean, you have a job, right? And I have my work, so.”

“Right.” Jared can’t believe his luck. “I mean, we could start with weekends.”

Jensen thinks about that for a moment.

“Okay,” he says. “But we’re not living together. You still have your place, I still have mine.”

“Agreed.” Jared can barely contain his excitement.

“You can leave a toothbrush in the bathroom,” Jensen says. “And a backup change of clothes in the bureau, just in case you forget to bring stuff.”

Jared nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“Besides. My underwear is way too small for you.” Jensen smirks.

Jared laughs. “Maybe not way too small,” he says.

“Face it. You’ve got three inches on me.” Jensen chuckles. “Plus, you’re taller.”

“Seems to me you’ve got a bit of a size kink.” Jared winks.

Jensen’s eyes widen. Then he grins and his cheeks flush pink.

“Maybe,” he admits, shifting awkwardly on the couch, as if his jeans are suddenly a little too tight.

Jared takes a chance and slides his arm along the back of the couch, cupping Jensen’s cheek and turning his face towards Jared at the same time. It’s risky. He’s not sure if Jensen will bolt or push him away, but he’s willing to take that chance. Jensen stares at him, a little startled, but he doesn’t shove Jared away, so Jared leans in, taking it slow.

He runs his thumb over Jensen’s plush lower lip.

“I think maybe you like it when I take charge,” Jared suggests.

Jensen’s cheeks get pinker, he puffs out a breath, and his eyelids flutter.

“Maybe,” he admits.

It’s all the invitation Jared needs. He tips Jensen’s chin up and closes the distance between them, capturing Jensen’s mouth in a slow, scorching kiss.

They don’t have sex on the couch, but the make-out session is the most they’ve ever done outside of Jensen’s bedroom, so Jared decides that’s progress. Jensen’s not just tolerating Jared’s toppy manhandling. He actually seems to enjoy it.

Sex just gets better and better, along with other facets of their relationship, and Jared’s a lucky guy.

//**//**/

By the time the snow melts, Jared and Jensen are nearly living together. The spring finds them taking long walks in the woods, horseback riding, fishing and kayaking on the lake, and taking drives through the mountains. Jensen keeps his cap pulled low over his forehead and his sunglasses on everywhere they go, but Jared assures him he won’t be recognized.

“These are all country folks, Jen,” Jared tells him. “All they see when they look at you is a guy they’ve never seen around these parts before. Then they’ll see you’re with me so you must be okay.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, or at least Jared guesses he does since he can’t see his eyes behind the glasses. But that’s definitely the snorting laugh Jensen makes when he rolls his eyes.

In June, Jared’s uncle Harold takes them sky-diving in his twin-engine turbo-prop, and Jared learns that Jensen’s love for extreme sports isn’t limited to downhill skiing and snowmobiling. They explore the mountains in all-terrain vehicles that tear up the pastures and grasslands, getting themselves yelled at by more than one irritated rancher.

“You boys up on Basket Mountain last weekend?” Jared’s dad asks one day as they’re doing inventory in the backroom at the store. “On ATVs?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess we were,” Jared admits. He feels that niggling tingle of shame he used to get when his dad called him on some mischief when he was a kid. “Weren’t no harm in it.”

“Rick McDermott says you tore up his field,” Gerry Padalecki says, shaking his head. “His grazing land. His cattle need that field to get through the summer.”

“Yes, sir.” Jared nods. “We won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t,” Gerry says. “I’ll pass on your apology next time I see Rick.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Jared fights the urge to crawl into a corner, reminding himself that he’s almost forty years old, not sixteen.

“Your mama keeps asking when you’re gonna bring your friend to dinner,” Gerry goes on. “Hasn’t it been nearly a year now since you two started seeing each other?”

Gerry knows Jared’s gay, is supportive, but can’t seem to use the word “boyfriend.”

Given the way Jensen has kept such a tight reign on their relationship, maybe it’s more accurate to think of them as just friends. Boyfriends might be taking it farther than Jensen would agree to.

“My parents want you to come to dinner,” Jared tells Jensen the next weekend. “At their house.”

They’re chopping vegetables for a salad, steaks already on the grill. They spent the day hiking, returning sweaty and dirty in the late afternoon. Now they’re both showered and shaved, moving around the house in stocking feet (Jared) and bare feet (Jensen). There’s something vulnerable and adorable about Jensen’s pale legs and feet against the polished hardwood floor. His shorts and short-sleeved shirt display more skin than usual. He seems more relaxed than Jared’s ever seen him, with his hair still damp from the shower.

“I don’t know, Jay. I’m a pretty private person.”

“No, I know that,” Jared says. “But they’re my folks and they care about me, so they want to meet you.”

“I’ve already met your dad,” Jensen reminds him. “When I first got here. He set me up with the realtor that found this place.”

“Right. I know.” Jared sighs. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll explain it to them. They’ll be okay with it.”

Jensen looks up, his expression inscrutable. Then he nods and starts chopping vegetables again.

“I’d be happy to meet the folks,” he says. “After all, I’ve been monopolizing your time every weekend. They probably miss you. I can’t blame them.”

Jared’s so shocked he’s not sure what to say.

“Seriously? You’ll come to dinner with my parents?”

Jensen frowns. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it? I’ve been meaning to find a way to thank your dad for his help when I first got here. Does he like whisky?”

//**//**//

It so happens that the following weekend is Jared’s fortieth birthday, which they celebrate as privately as they celebrated Jensen’s birthday back in March. Local wildfires have filled the air outside with smoke, so they grill dinner indoors with the windows shut and the air-conditioning on. Jensen has agreed to drive down to the Padalecki home with Jensen the following afternoon, to join the parents for dinner.

“It’s not as smoky in the valley,” Jared assures his lover. “My parents have a lovely lawn with a view of the Blues, just outside town. We should be able to eat outside on their deck.”

The smoke is thicker when they get up the next morning. Jensen forgoes his usual outdoor exercise for a visit to his personal gym in the basement. They spend the day indoors, playing video games, watching sports. Jensen spends a couple of hours alone in his music room while Jared reads and writes. It’s easy.

At the appointed time, they drive down the mountain in Jared’s truck. The air is noticeably less smoky in the valley, with its gently rolling hills covered with wheat, corn, and alfalfa, all growing well and almost ready to harvest. When Jared turns the truck into his parents’ lane, Jensen sucks in a breath. The view of the mountains beyond the house is truly spectacular. Jared didn’t lie. They’re shrouded in smoke, but seem even more impressive for that, dark blue in deep summer before the snow starts, with white puffs of smoke that look almost like clouds along their tops.

“Wow.” Jensen comments as the truck pulls to a stop. “You weren’t kidding about the view.”

“Right?” Jared grins. “My folks bought this place after Jeff and I were out on our own. It’s twice as big and twice as nice as the little house down on the creek where we grew up.”

“Wait, so you don’t live here?”

Jared shakes his head. “Never have. I have my own place over the hill. Bought it off a childhood friend who moved to Portland. You should come see it sometime.”

Jensen gives the funny little shake of his head that Jared’s learned to read as Jensen’s refusal of a suggestion he finds just a little too personal.

It’s cute, even if it makes Jared sad.

Progress, he reminds himself. We’re making progress. We’re here, aren’t we? Baby steps.

Sharon and Gerry Padalecki welcome Jensen into their home with their usual kind homeyness, and Jared watches Jensen relax within the first few minutes.

“The Carlson place working out for you?” Gerry asks Jensen, who smiles and nods.

“It’s great,” he answers. “Remote, with great views, but still close to the main road, just like the ad said. Thank you, by the way, for helping me find it.”

He hands over the bottle of single-malt whisky and Gerry takes it, reads the label with an impressed expression.

“Alaina’s a great realtor,” he says. “I’m glad she found the right place for you.”

“Are you finding everything you need up there?” Sharon asks. “We haven’t seen you at the store for a while.”

Jensen glances at Jared. “Your son brings me practically everything I need,” he tells Gerry. “I’m grateful to you for letting him be my personal delivery assistant.”

“Something tells me there’s a little more to it than that,” Sharon says with a knowing smile.

Jensen blushes, and Jared says, “Mama!”

“What?” Sharon fakes a surprised shrug. “Is there something I’m missing? What are your intentions toward our son, Mr. Ackles?”

Jensen’s eyebrows go up as he turns to Jared. “I see where you get your tendency to get right to the point,” he says to his boyfriend. To Sharon, he says, “It’s Jensen. Please. And that’s a very fair question.”

“Which we can discuss over dinner,” Gerry says. “Right, dear?”

“Of course,” Sharon agrees. “I need Jared in the kitchen to help me finish up. How about if you two take your drinks out to the deck? I’ve got some nuts and cheese out there waiting for you.”

Jared casts an apologetic glance at Jensen, who grins broadly as he turns to follow Gerry out to the deck, and Jared does a double-take. Jensen seems to be enjoying himself, which was not something Jared could have ever imagined.

“That man is in love with you,” Sharon says when Jared joins her in the kitchen.

“What?” Jared flushes with embarrassment. “Mama, what makes you say that? You just met him!”

Sharon shakes her head as she hands Jared a bowl of green beans. “I see the way he looks at you, like you’re the light in the room and he’s a moth.”

“That’s ridiculous! Jensen’s a very private person. He doesn’t let anyone see what he’s thinking or feeling. Ever.”

“He can’t hide it from me,” Sharon says as she spoons mashed potatoes into a bowl and hands it to Jared. “He’s like an open book when you’re looking the other way.”

Jared shakes his head. “I’ve never seen it,” he insists. “He’s careful.”

“Not careful enough,” Sharon says with a slight smile. “A mother can always tell.”

She picks up a platter of sliced chicken and motions for Jared to walk ahead of her out to the deck.

Jared glances apprehensively at Jensen as he puts the food dishes on the table. Jensen’s expression is open, friendly. He and Gerry are obviously getting along, enjoying each other’s company, and Jared’s grateful for that. Maybe this family dinner will help Jensen relax. Maybe it’ll help him come out of his shell.

“So Harold’s told me about your sky-diving adventures,” Gerry says after grace, during the passing of food dishes. “And the whole county knows about your misadventure with McDermott’s field. What else have you boys been up to?”

“Oh, a little hiking, some fishing up at Wallowa Lake,” Jared says. “The usual.”

“And skiing in the winter, I hear,” Gerry says.

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “You’ve got spies at the ski resort?”

“Son, everybody in Umatilla County knows everything that happens here. Any time you boys step out in public, anywhere, the whole county knows it.”

“Good to know,” Jensen says. Jared watches a frown furrow his brow and hurries to compensate for his obvious concern.

“People are discreet, Jensen, you don’t have to worry,” Jared assures him. “Nobody at Spout Springs would tell a soul you’re there, just their friends and neighbors.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring.” Jensen rolls his eyes.

“Jared’s right, son,” Gerry agrees. “Your secret’s safe with us. We all know you’re here, but nobody outside the county has any idea.”

Jensen barks out a laugh. “Oh, and I suppose none of you ever travel to Portland. Or get any visitors from outside the county?”

“Oh, folks travel through, off and on,” Gerry admits. “Truckers and such. My son Jeff and his family come out for Thanksgiving every year, and of course he knows about you. We invited you for Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

There’s only the barest hint of accusation in Gerry’s tone, but Jensen picks up on it.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. “In case Jared hasn’t told you, I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”

“We understand,” Sharon rushes to say. “I just hope you feel comfortable enough to join us this year.”

Jared tries not to hold his breath, staring intently at his plate to avoid Jensen’s familiar expression of avoidance and rejection. He’s just sure Jensen won’t accept.

Jensen surprises him.

“I’d like that,” he says softly.

Jared looks up, startled, and catches Jensen looking at him with amused affection.

“Good. That’s settled then.” Sharon says with a broad smile. “Jensen, would you help me clear the dishes, please? I baked a boysenberry pie this morning for dessert.”

“Oh my god, Mama went all out!” Jared crows as Jensen snaps to attention.

“Jensen seems like a good guy,” Gerry comments as soon as Sharon and Jensen are out of the room.

“I think so,” Jared agrees.

“And now he’ll get to meet the rest of the family,” Gerry notes.

“Looks like it.” Jared shakes his head. He still can’t quite believe Jensen accepted Sharon’s invitation.

“You know, there’s a position open in Mac Hi’s theatre department,” Gerry says. “With his background and experience, your friend would be a shoo-in, if he ever decides to join our little community.”

“Oh, Daddy, I can’t ask him to do that.”

Gerry raises an eyebrow. “Well, you don’t need to. I’m guessing your mama’s talking to him about it right now.”

“Daddy!”

Gerry chuckles. “You mentioned how much he misses community theatre. He could do some directing or some acting right here in our little town. Probably up at Whitman College, too, if he wanted.”

“Oh, he’s not going to want to do that,” Jared says with conviction. “Too much attention.”

Gerry tilts his head dubiously. “He might surprise you.”

Jared thinks about that for a moment and nods. “Yeah, he’s been doing that lately,” he concedes.

Jensen takes that moment to return to the deck, holding a tub of ice cream and a scooper. He’s followed by Sharon, who displays the most perfect boysenberry pie ever seen on the planet, much less in Freewater, Oregon. Jared has been the lucky recipient of Sharon’s pies his entire life, so he knows what he’s talking about.

When they’ve finished dessert, Jared joins Sharon in the kitchen to clean up while Gerry opens the whisky and pulls out cigars to share with Jensen.

“Jensen seems really interested in the high school theatre coach job,” Sharon comments as she hands dishes to Jared to dry and stack.

Jared huffs out a laugh. “I can’t believe you told him about that,” he says, shaking his head.

“He’s been through a loss,” Sharon says. “But I think he’s just about ready to emerge from his shell and return to the world of the living.”

“Mama, what are you talking about? What loss?” Jared’s flabbergasted.

“He didn’t tell you?” Sharon raises an eyebrow. “Both parents. Car accident. Right on the heels of losing the love of his life to suicide.” She shakes her head. “That poor man has been through it. No wonder he retreated into the mountains.”

Jared’s mouth hangs open for a solid minute before he realizes it and snaps it closed.

“He - he just told you all that?”

“Well, I had to ask,” Sharon says. “I’m surprised he hasn’t told you. Of course, he probably thinks you already know. It’s not exactly a secret. When you google his name, the stories come up pretty quick.”

“I don’t - I haven’t wanted to invade his privacy,” Jared says lamely. “Oh god. He probably thinks I’m an insensitive boob.”

“You?” Sharon laughs. “There’s not an insensitive bone in your body, sweetheart. I’m sure Jensen can see that.”

“I honestly didn’t know,” Jared says, still amazed at how easily Jensen had deflected any attempts by Jared to learn anything about him. He must’ve assumed Jared knew all of this but just hadn’t ever mentioned it.

Jensen looks up at him with a bemused expression when Jared joins him and Gerry on the deck.

“You all right, Jaybird?” Jensen asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Your family,” Jared breathes, still tingly with shock. “I didn’t know. Oh god, Jen, I’m so sorry.”

Jensen’s expression shifts, and for a moment Jared can see the depth of his grief and despair.

Then he gives Jared a shaky smile, reaching out to take Jared’s hand, pulling him down beside him on the picnic bench.

“You’ve helped me, Jay,” Jensen says. “Seriously. Having you around these past few months - almost a year now - it’s helped more than anything. More than therapy, honestly.”

Jensen looks up at Gerry and Sharon. “Your son has been a godsend,” he tells them. “Having him in my life over this past year has literally saved me.”

He clears his throat, lowers his eyes to where his fingers are still tangled with Jared’s.

“You asked earlier about my intentions,” he says quietly. “Well, I know you already know this, but I’m a lucky man to have Jared in my life. I’d like to make that permanent, if he’ll have me.”

Jared’s eyes widen. He’s speechless.

“I knew it!” Sharon crows, clapping her hands in delight. “I’m hosting the wedding! Calling it now, since it’s my only chance to plan a wedding and I’ve been wanting to do that since Jeff got married.”

Jensen blushes, Jared stammers, and Gerry says, “Now wait a minute, Share. Let the boys figure that out on their own.”

“Well, I’m bringing out the champagne,” Sharon says, heading into the house for the bottle and glasses.

“Congratulations,” Gerry says, patting Jensen on the shoulder. “You just made her decade.”

He gets up to follow his wife into the house, leaving Jared and Jensen alone for the moment.

“Did you just - “ Jared looks down at their twined hands, then back up at Jensen’s face. “Did you just propose?”

Jensen smiles, a broad, genuine smile that lights up his eyes and brings out his eye crinkles.

“I guess I did,” he acknowledges.

Jensen’s eyes drop to Jared’s mouth, his smile faltering just a little as Jared continues to stare at him. When he lifts his eyes to Jared’s again, he looks suddenly younger, more vulnerable. Maybe even a tad unsure of himself.

“Well?” Jensen prompts. “What do you say?”

“It’s just such a leap from spending weekends together,” Jared says hesitantly. “And I just learned about your family.”

Jensen’s expression turns serious. He clears his throat, rubs his thumb along the back of Jared’s hand.

“Too soon,” he says softly. “I get it. You need time to think about it.”

“No, that’s just it,” Jared says. “I don’t. I’ve been hoping we’d get there since we first met. It’s just usually we take baby steps. Usually, you’re so careful about everything. And I get that, I do, now that I know what you’ve been through. What it must take you to trust again.”

Jensen nods. “You can take your time, Jared. No pressure. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Jared huffs out a laugh. “Oh, I’m ready. No question. It’s just - you’re just meeting my parents for the first time.”

“Lovely people,” Jensen says. “Makes me miss my own parents.”

Jared’s heart breaks. “Of course it does,” he says sympathetically, squeezing Jensen’s hand. “Of course it does. Oh, Jensen, I’m so sorry! I can’t imagine losing both my folks like that, so suddenly.”

“Joining your family feels like it could be a really good thing,” Jensen says, his expression softening. “Feels right, you know?”

His voice cracks a little and his eyes tear over.

“Oh Jensen.”

Jared lets his hand go so he can gather Jensen into his arms, hold him as tightly as he can, given the awkward position they’re in on the bench.

“Yes. Of course my answer is yes,” Jared murmurs into Jensen’s neck. “I just didn’t know, and I feel like such an ass that I didn’t know.”

“It’s good,” Jensen answers, kissing Jared’s cheek as they separate. “It’s all good, Jay. I promise.”

At that moment, Gerry and Sharon return with champagne and glasses, and they all toast the happy couple.

Jared’s head still spins as they bid farewell with promises to get together again soon, and as they drive toward the mountain road, his thoughts are filled with Jensen. It occurs to him that he might never have known. He might always have figured Jensen’s demeanor of secretiveness, his aura of tragedy, and his need to keep his life tightly controlled were all just parts of his core personality that Jared could only learn to accept.

Jared had been prepared to live with that Jensen for the rest of his life, without ever finding out that there were actual real-life circumstances that precipitated Jensen’s self-imposed isolation.

Now, he wonders what Jensen was like before his life took such a tragic turn. Maybe he was always as guarded and careful as the man Jared met and fell in love with. But maybe he was somebody else, somebody more open and easy-going, less shut off.

Probably always pretty introverted, though, Jared decides. That aspect of Jensen’s personality seems ingrained. When Jensen tells him he doesn’t like crowds, hates parties full of strangers, Jared believes him.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Jensen notes after they’ve been driving in silence for several miles.

Jared smiles ruefully. “Nothing, really, just me wondering what you were like before.”

Jensen shakes his head. “You wouldn’t have liked me much, back then,” he assures Jared. “I was very focused on my career, working all the time, self-centered, ambitious. Ruthless, even. Not a good friend. Not a good son. Definitely not a good life-partner.”

Jared feels Jensen’s eyes on him, watching his profile as he drives.

“You’ve made me a better person, Jared,” he says. “With you, I like myself better.”

Jared shakes his head. “I invaded your space, forced my friendship on you, wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I liked all that,” Jensen responds. “You pushed me out of myself, helped me to see how I was hiding instead of facing my fears.”

“Your fears?” Jared repeats, glancing quizzically at Jensen.

Jensen nods. “After everything that happened, I thought I needed to escape, to get away from the scene of so much violence and sorrow. I figured, if I could hide somewhere nobody would ever find me, maybe I wouldn’t ever need to face how much I failed.”

“But you were so successful!” Jared exclaims.

Jensen takes a deep breath. “I had a successful career, but inside I felt like a complete failure. I felt responsible for what happened to Jeff, for what happened to my parents.”

“But that was an accident!” Jared protests. “You couldn’t have prevented that.”

“If I’d visited them more often, they wouldn’t have been on the road that day trying to make it my house for Christmas,” Jensen says. “I should have come to them, at least for holidays. But I felt like I couldn’t take the time away from my work. I was too self-involved. And I knew Jeff was suicidal. I didn’t do enough to help him. Again, I was too self-involved.”

Jared shakes his head. “I had a friend in high school who overdosed, another friend in college who did the same thing. I knew they were struggling and I tried to help them, but ultimately it wasn’t up to me. It wasn’t my fault they died. I’ll never stop wishing there was something more I could’ve done, but I know there wasn’t. Sometimes, shit just happens.”

“And yet, you’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a month, before me,” Jensen reminds him.

Jared swallows and nods. “Yeah. I guess I don’t like being hurt, either. I guess when I met you, I just figured it was worth it. The risk of being hurt, I mean.”

“Same,” Jensen agrees.

“I’d never hurt you, Jensen,” Jared assures him.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Jensen answers. “All I can do is hope you can trust me when I promise I’d never hurt you, either. At least, not intentionally.”

Jared picks up Jensen’s hand from the bench seat between them, kisses his knuckles.

That’s when he sees it. They’re already on the Mountain Road, climbing into smoke that’s so heavy it darkens the sky, bringing night early to the evening. Jared’s got the windows rolled up, vents closed, air-conditioning on, but the smoke is just getting denser.

About a mile from Jensen’s house, the road is blocked. Police cruisers with their lights flashing are parked across the road, turning vehicles away, letting no one through.

“Oh no,” Jared murmurs.

“My house,” Jensen breathes.

When it’s their turn to speak with the officer in charge, Jared rolls down the window, gesturing at Jensen.

“His house is about a mile up the road,” Jared says. “I’m just trying to get him home.”

The officer shakes his head. “The fire jumped the highway about an hour ago,” he says. “Firefighters are the only vehicles allowed through.”

“Do you know if the house is still there?” Jensen asks.

“Firefighters are doing all they can to save the homes on this road,” the officer says.

“When will we be allowed to go home?” Jensen asks.

The officer shakes his head. “Not tonight, that’s for sure. Even if they get the fire out or moved away from the road, it’ll take another 24 hours at least before they get the last of the hot spots. You can check the website for updates.”

Jared follows the officer’s instructions to turn around and drive back the way they came.

“Damn,” Jensen mutters. “I wish I’d known before we went down to your folks’ place.”

“I checked this morning and your house wasn’t even in the ‘prepare for possible evacuation’ area. It didn’t occur to me. This is just one of those unforeseen coincidences.”

“I just wish I’d brought my guitar and a change of clothes, just in case,” Jensen grumbles. “The prospect of going back to an empty, burned-out shell is not a happy one.”

“You can stay at my place tonight,” Jared offers. “We can monitor the fire’s progress and evacuation orders from there. And I have extra pajamas and clothes that will fit you.”

Jensen throws a vulnerable look at him that pierces Jared’s heart.

“So if this was all a way to get me to sleep over at your house, I gotta say, it’s a little excessive.”

Jared bites his lip. “Sorry, dude. I literally did not know the stupid fire would do this.”

Jensen’s quiet as they drive back down Highway 204 to the main highway, then up the highway towards town. He says nothing as Jared turns his truck onto a little country road that takes them down into a valley with a couple of working farms, spaced apart the length of the pastureland on either side of the houses and barns.

By the time he turns up the gravel driveway to Jared’s house, darkness has fallen. Jared’s housekeeper left the lights on and fed the dogs, which come bounding around the side of the house as soon as they hear the truck.

Jensen stands in the middle of the driveway, staring at the house.

“Damn, Jay,” he breathes, obviously surprised and impressed. “And all this time, I figured you were camping out in your mother’s basement.”

“Shut up,” Jared laughs as he greets each of his three dogs and rubs behind their ears. “You knew I had wealth. And it goes even farther here. There’s a pool and a hot tub out back, stables for the horses.”

“Wait, those were your horses we’ve been riding?”

“Of course,” Jared says. “Whose did you think they were? I own the ski lodge, too, by the way.”

Jensen frowns. “I wondered why there was hardly anybody else there whenever we went.”

Jared nods. “I figured you didn’t want to be recognized, so I closed it on the days we went. Come on.”

Jared leads the way up the steps into the house, dogs bounding up around them.

“You have a housekeeper?” Jensen asks as he stops in the entryway to admire the staircase that winds along the back wall to the second floor.

“Andrew, yeah,” Jared says. “He comes by when I’m not home, feeds the dogs, whatnot.”

“He?”

Jared chuckles. “Don’t be jealous. He’s an old friend from high school. Housekeeping & caretaking are just something he does. He’s good at it. And the dogs love him, which is major.”

Jared waves to the left and right of the entry hall, pointing out the library and the living room, points to the back wall, where an open doorway leads down a short hall to the kitchen.

“Fridge is stocked, if you want a midnight snack, and there’s plenty of eggs and bacon for breakfast. Milk, fruit, cereal. Library’s got a fully-stocked liquor cabinet, if you’re looking for a nightcap. Just help yourself.”

Jared leads the way up the stairs, and Jensen follows with a bemused expression on his face.

“Guest bedroom’s up here on the second floor, next to mine,” Jared tells him. “Private bathroom, of course.”

“How many rooms do you have?” Jensen asks, noting the second-floor hallway with its many closed doors.

“Ten bedrooms, altogether,” Jared says. “My brother’s family stay here when they come out from Portland, and sometimes they bring extras.”

Jensen shakes his head. “This just isn’t who I thought you were, Jay,” he says.

“Because I work in a grocery store and drive an old pickup truck? Oh man, you need to park your stereotypes at the door.” Jared chuckles, opening the door to the last room in the hallway, the one right next to the master bedroom.

“But, I mean, all of this? For one person?”

Jared shrugs. “I made too much money as an attorney,” he says. “And it goes farther out here. I put up travelers and truck drivers when they need a place to stay, since we don’t have a motel in town. We host parties, family reunions, wedding parties. It’s nice.”

“I’ll say,” Jensen murmurs as he steps inside the large guest room, checks out the bathroom and closet, opens drawers. “Like running a regular air b-n-b.”

“Except we do a lot of charity events,” Jared says. “So there’s plenty of tax write-offs. Enough to cover expenses, most times.”

Jensen stares. “This is a part of you I never knew existed, Jared,” he admits.

Jared crosses his arms, hunches into himself. “You don’t like it.”

“Oh no, I didn’t say that,” Jensen says, putting his hands up to halt Jared’s fit of self-doubt. “It’s just new, that’s all.”

“Like finding out that the man I thought was an arrogant, self-righteous control freak is just a man who lost everybody he loves, all at once,” Jared offers hesitantly. “A man whose loss has altered his personality and made me fall deeply in love with him without even knowing why.”

Jensen blinks, hesitating before answering.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” Jensen says.

“And neither are you,” Jared counters.

“I fell in love with a man who had given up a high-powered, successful life to retire to his childhood home and work in a grocery store,” Jensen reminds him. “You’re not him.”

“You’re in love with me.” Jared focuses on the confession part of Jensen’s statement because it really is the most important.

“Of course I’m in love with you, you idiot. I asked you to marry me, didn’t I?”

Jared’s hackles are up, even if he knows he’s beaten. This man has his heart, whatever else happens.

“You realize you’re a kind of an asshole, right?”

Jensen grins, broad and honest. “You put up with me when nobody else would,” he says. “Of course I love you. How could you ever doubt that?”

They make out in the guest bedroom, have sex in the master bedroom. When Jared wakes up, late in the night, he sees Jensen’s shadow, standing by the big glass double doors that lead out onto the master bedroom balcony.

“You worried about your house?” Jared murmurs as he moves up behind his lover. Jensen’s wearing the soft sleep pants Jared gave him earlier. Jared, of course, is naked. He slides his arms around Jensen from behind, presses his body against him, and kisses his neck.

Jensen relaxes back against him.

“It’s just a thing,” he says, voice low and rumbling. “Things can be replaced.”

Jensen turns in Jared’s arms and turns his face up to be kissed. The sky outside is dark, but there’s a glow on the horizon where the fire still blazes.

Tomorrow, or the next day, they’ll drive back up the mountain to find Jensen’s house either scorched to its foundation or miraculously unscathed in the middle of a forest of blackened trees.

But tonight, they’ll lie together in Jared’s king-sized bed, sleep peacefully in each other’s arms, share a bed all night for the first time but not the last.

Tonight, their future begins.

fin