What Happens In Vegas...
Title: What Happens In Vegas (Part One)
Authors: bloody_adorable for this part!
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Gen(ish) for this part...
Summary: It's something Jensen's wanted since he fell in love, and something that Jared's always said he could never give him. Then they get drunk...
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS (PART ONE)
Raising his arms in the air, Jared whooped happily, cackling, his head thrown back, mouth gaping open. Jensen watched him, smiling and shaking his head.
"You're cheating," Jensen said.
Calming, Jared only chuckled for a moment, looking into Jensen's eyes. "Am not," he returned. "You're just a sore loser."
"Deal the damn cards," he returned, gesturing to the bar.
Chuckling again, Jared did as he was told, flipping a few cards down to the bar top. Jensen apparently didn't like the outcome, because he suddenly slapped the palm of his hand against the bar. "Son of a bitch," he said. "Give me the cards!"
Laughing, Jared shook his head. "Take a drink first."
"You're cheating."
Jared leaned in a little closer to him. "I am not," he assured him.
Jensen didn't seem convinced. He shifted his weight on his feet and simply gazed over at Jared.
Straightening, Jared sighed. "Alright," he gave in. "I'll drink with you this time."
"Wow," Jensen said in a monotonous tone, "and they say chivalry is dead."
They both raised their glasses of draft, tipping them to their lips and chugging the beer for the count of ten. They set the glasses back down at the same time, the thick glass bottoms hitting the bar with a thwack!
"Now, give me the goddamn cards," Jensen said, holding out his hand. "You're not gonna get me drunk, you big cheater."
"I didn't cheat," Jared laughed.
It was a game Jared had made up ages ago, before he even knew Jensen really. And the only objective it held was to see who would get drunk the fastest. The rules were sketchy, and invariably changed each time it was played, but that didn't keep Jared and Jensen from playing it.
And it definitely didn't keep them from getting way too drunk, way too fast.
By eleven o'clock at night, Mickey put both of them in a cab, giving the driver explicit instructions -- and a hefty tip -- to drop them off at home and only home. On the way there, they sang very loud, very off-key rock music, annoying the driver immensely. He more than gladly dropped them off at their destination, refusing the complimentary kiss that Jared offered, hanging inside the cab window. Both Jared and Jensen laughed loudly as the taxi sped away, desperate to leave them behind.
Swaying and weaving, the two made their way up the front walk to the small house they had managed to buy -- with Jeff and Stevie's help. They could hear Maya inside, barking at them and scratching at the door as they worked to unlock the deadbolt. A much more difficult task to accomplish when you're stone drunk.
Finally they stumbled through the door and managed not to fall over onto Maya as they clamoured inside. She jumped up to them, wagging her tail and whining for attention. They fussed over her for a minute or two, talking in slurring baby-words, until Jared asked her if she had to go out. She answered him by leaving he and Jensen at the front door, still wide open, and making her way to her bed by the sofa. Jared nodded drunkenly at her refusal, mumbling a soft, "Alright," at her. He saw Jensen closing the front door. He stepped closer to him, setting one hand at either side of Jensen's head.
Caged in Jared's arms, Jensen had enough room to turn and face him, pressing his back up against the door. He didn't say anything, just looking over at him, his eyes blinking slowly.
"Y'know I love you, right?" Jared asked, his words slurring together.
Jensen nodded. "Yep."
It was silent for a long while. Jensen let Jared keep him there, pressed against the door, gazing into his eyes, across his face. Finally, Jared leaned into Jensen as he took a deep breath. He didn't kiss him, though he was close enough to. Instead, he lingered there for a few seconds before backing away.
"Shit," he said at last. "Alright, let's do it."
At first, Jensen assumed he meant sex. But when Jared made no advances upon him, he furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do what?"
Jared clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms briskly against each other. "Let's do the married thing."
Jensen smiled and shook his head. "No," he refused.
"What?"
"No way," he returned, shaking his head. "I'm not fallin' for that again."
Jared opened his arms wide, seeming stunned. "I'm bein' serious, dude."
"Th'hell you are," he replied. He pushed away from the door, staggering for a moment, and started across the room.
Before he could get past him, Jared reached out and stopped Jensen, taking a handful of the man's shirt. "Don't get your veil in a twist, Bridezilla," he muttered.
"If anything is in a twist, Jared," he began, facing him, "it's your own fault."
Frustrated, Jared sighed. "Will you shut up an' listen t'me, you big stupidhead?"
Jensen clamped his mouth shut and, even though he didn't want to listen, he kept quiet so that Jared could attempt to dig out of the hole he'd dug for himself.
Gazing down at him, Jared shook his head, not sure how else to say what he wanted to say. "I'm telling you I want to marry you, you idiot."
As near-perfect as those words were, Jensen wasn't sure he wanted to hear them. He mimicked the shake of Jared's head. "You're drunk," he said softly.
With a fistful of Jensen's shirt still in his hand, Jared pulled him closer. He rested his forehead against Jensen's, still threatening a kiss, but not giving in. "I'm in love with you," he said, matching Jensen's soft tone. "And I want to do the marriage thing. With you."
"You'd back out of it by morning, Jay," he reminded him. "We both know that."
He finally let go of Jensen, taking a step back. "Then, fuck it," he cursed. "Let's do it right now."
"What?"
"Yeah," he nodded. He backed away a little further, swaying a little as he did. "Let's go to Vegas. We'll get married. With Elvis as the witness."
"Jared."
"Come on!"
He sighed. "Well, what about Maya?"
Jared waved away his question. "We'll be back before she knows it. And if not, I'll call Jeff. He'll look in on her."
He eyed Jared for a moment. "You're oddly comfortable with all of this."
Smiling, Jared neared him again. He wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist, pulling him solidly up against his body. "Can you blame me?" he asked. "I'm marrying the prettiest girl in the world."
"Ugh," Jensen smiled, used to the man's teasing by now. "Shut up."
"Jeff. Jeffy-Jeff-Jeff. Do me a favor, dude. Go let Maya out? Give her a bite to eat, maybe? Jen and I are gone for a day or two. Somethin' really big's goin' down, Jeffy-Jeff. Somethin' freakin' huge, dude. Tell you about it later. See ya."
Laying in bed, Jeff took the cell phone away from his ear. He sighed and snapped it closed, rubbing at his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Stevie asked.
"I gotta go get Maya," he answered, looking over at his wife.
She sat at the edge of the mattress, turned to look at him. Setting a gentle hand to his chest, she looked concerned. "Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"
"Jay's gone and done something stupid."
"Like what?"
He shook his head as it rested against the headboard of the bed. "I don't know," he returned. "He said he'd be gone for a day or two. That he'll tell us after it's all over and done with."
Looking on the bright side, Stevie smiled. "Maybe he's just got a line on a job out in LA. You know that he and Jensen have been talking about moving out there permanently."
Though he wanted to believe her, Jeffrey couldn't get rid of the gnawing nervousness in his gut. "He was drunk, Stevie," he told her.
She thought for a moment, biting at her botton lip. "How drunk?"
"Called me Jeffy-Jeff."
Stevie grimaced. She knew that calling Jeffrey such a name usually meant certain death. "Oh," she said softly.
"Yeah." Heaving himself out of bed, Jeffrey grunted aloud as he moved, feeling older than his forty-something years. "Be back with the new ward in a few."
It was Jared's job to pack while Jensen called the airline. He fished his wallet out of his back pocket, narrowly avoiding falling out of the chair he was sitting in, and put all of the charges on his credit card. He repeatedly mumbled a drunken, quiet, "M'kay," to the woman taking his information. The alcohol was still quite heavy in his bloodstream, making the room spin while he sat there in the chair.
By the time Jensen was done on the phone, Jared emerged from the bedroom, seemingly proud of himself. "Alright, let's go!" he nearly shouted, clapping his hands together.
"Our plane leaves in about an hour," Jensen told him, quickly looking down to Jared's hands, the floor, expecting to see some sort of luggage. "Dude, where are the bags?"
Smiling devilishly, Jared neared him. "We don't need anything but these." He reached into his back jean pocket and produced two, small dark blue books.
Jensen peered at him, quizzically. "Our passports?"
"Yeah!"
He was silent for a second or two, trying to process the information through a heavily clouded brain. "Uh...why?"
"Because," Jared said, animated and clearly feeling no pain whatsoever. "Las Vegas is like...a whole other country. It's their motto."
"Really? I thought it was 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.'"
Emphatically, Jared shook his head. "That's what it used to be. Now, it's 'Vegas -- it's like a whole other country.'"
Shrugging his shoulders, Jensen agreed that maybe it was the right motto after all. He stood from his chair and replaced his wallet. "Hey," he said, momentarily thoughtful. "Are we too drunk to do this?"
Seeming just as thoughtful, Jared shrugged his shoulders. "When was the last time we were too drunk to do something like this?"
It was a late night flight and, to be quite honest, the attendants were pretty damn tired. Jared and Jensen, although they were drunk as hell, didn't make too much of a ruckus. And, when Jared announced to the attendants why they were on the plane, they were given a good number of alcoholic drinks to celebrate.
"We're gettin' hitched," he had told the stewardess, motioning to the man next to him. "Me 'n' him."
"Really?" she'd smiled.
"Yep," he had nodded, his eyes blinking independantly of each other. "'S'gonna be great."
"Well, congratulations," she returned, touching both Jared and Jensen's hands. It wasn't the strangest thing ever said to her. She started to move away, but Jared spoke, halting her movements.
"Will you take our picture?"
Returning her attention to them, she smiled again. "I'm sorry?"
"Here," he said, digging into his pocket and handing her his cell phone. "Use this. Just push this button here."
She did as was asked of her, snapping a picture of the two very drunk men, who were set off on a journey to Las Vegas to get hitched.
"Where's Elvis?"
The master of ceremonies, with a nametag that read FRED DENVER, ignored Jared's question. "Are we ready to begin?"
"I wanna know where Elvis is?"
Fred sighed. "Elvis is another three-hundred and fifty dollars," he explained. "And he's already been booked in the ceremony after yours."
Shocked, Jared's eyes went wide. "Fuck me," he breathed. "Pricey old fart."
"Indeed," Fred nodded. "Is your partner coming?"
"Not without me," he laughed, winking one eye. He noticed that Fred didn't join in on the devious laughter, seeming unimpressed with the crude joke. "Sorry," he apologized. He turned towards the doorway and shouted loudly. "Jen!"
After bellowing loud enough to make Fred Denver jump, Jared turned back to him and smiled.
"He's on his way. Promise."
"I hope so," Fred nodded. "We have another ceremony starting in five minutes."
Jared took the hint. He turned towards the doorway again and screamed, "Jensen!" Turning back to Fred, Jared nodded. "I know, and we really appreciate you guys doing this last minute for us."
"You do know this isn't a marriage ceremony, right?"
Jared paused. "It's not?"
"No, it's a commitment ceremony," Fred explained. "Gay marriage isn't recognized by the state of Nevada."
Annoyed, Jared made a face at him. "Well, that's dumb," he snapped. "You guys are the marriage capital of the world."
"Well." All the man could do was shrug.
"So, it's legal for me to get a whore, but I can't marry the man I've loved for -- Christ -- how many years now?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Fred apologized.
Just then, Jensen arrived. "Sorry," he said, nearing them. "I was just paying for everything."
"Jen," Jared almost interrupted. "This isn''t a marriage license."
Surprising Jared, Jensen just shrugged. "I know," he said. Seeing Jared's shocked expression, Jensen smiled brighter. "It's okay, Jay," he assured him. "I don't need a marriage license. I told you that before. The fact that you're here now, making all this effort -- the fact that you asked me to marry you -- that's all I needed. All I wanted."
Smiling, Jared just looked at him for a moment. He wanted to find his way around the alcohol cobwebs in his head, wanted to tell Jensen how much he loved him. How he never wanted to be without him. Ever. But words weren't his strong point. Never had been, never would be.
"Are we ready?" Fred interrupted.
After another few seconds of silence, both Jared and Jensen gazing into each other's eyes, Jared finally turned towards Fred and nodded. "Let's do this," he agreed.
Silence.
Silence and an underlying droning sound. Unidentifiable. Curious.
Cool air, from some nearby fan that Jared didn't remember buying, grazed over his skin, ruffled his hair.
Already, his head was pounding. He was becoming more aware of himself, of his surroundings. He could tell he was in a chair. He and Jensen only owned a sofa at their house, so he assumed they'd found their way to Jeff and Stevie's house. He assumed the voices around him belonged to Jeff, Stevie, and the rest of the family.
Opening his eyes, Jared saw how wrong his assumptions had been.
Jensen was beside him, just starting to stir. And they were on a plane.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice said, a slight accent making the man's voice sound proper and distinguished. "We are approximately ten minutes from landing. Local London time is five-eleven PM, if you would like to set your watches accordingly. Please secure all carry-on bags in the overhead compartments, clearing the area at your feet for landing."
Jared didn't hear the rest of what the man said. He looked over at Jensen, his eyes wide, and grumbled a low, "Oh, crap."
TBC - Next part will be posted next week!
Authors: bloody_adorable for this part!
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Gen(ish) for this part...
Summary: It's something Jensen's wanted since he fell in love, and something that Jared's always said he could never give him. Then they get drunk...
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS (PART ONE)
Raising his arms in the air, Jared whooped happily, cackling, his head thrown back, mouth gaping open. Jensen watched him, smiling and shaking his head.
"You're cheating," Jensen said.
Calming, Jared only chuckled for a moment, looking into Jensen's eyes. "Am not," he returned. "You're just a sore loser."
"Deal the damn cards," he returned, gesturing to the bar.
Chuckling again, Jared did as he was told, flipping a few cards down to the bar top. Jensen apparently didn't like the outcome, because he suddenly slapped the palm of his hand against the bar. "Son of a bitch," he said. "Give me the cards!"
Laughing, Jared shook his head. "Take a drink first."
"You're cheating."
Jared leaned in a little closer to him. "I am not," he assured him.
Jensen didn't seem convinced. He shifted his weight on his feet and simply gazed over at Jared.
Straightening, Jared sighed. "Alright," he gave in. "I'll drink with you this time."
"Wow," Jensen said in a monotonous tone, "and they say chivalry is dead."
They both raised their glasses of draft, tipping them to their lips and chugging the beer for the count of ten. They set the glasses back down at the same time, the thick glass bottoms hitting the bar with a thwack!
"Now, give me the goddamn cards," Jensen said, holding out his hand. "You're not gonna get me drunk, you big cheater."
"I didn't cheat," Jared laughed.
It was a game Jared had made up ages ago, before he even knew Jensen really. And the only objective it held was to see who would get drunk the fastest. The rules were sketchy, and invariably changed each time it was played, but that didn't keep Jared and Jensen from playing it.
And it definitely didn't keep them from getting way too drunk, way too fast.
By eleven o'clock at night, Mickey put both of them in a cab, giving the driver explicit instructions -- and a hefty tip -- to drop them off at home and only home. On the way there, they sang very loud, very off-key rock music, annoying the driver immensely. He more than gladly dropped them off at their destination, refusing the complimentary kiss that Jared offered, hanging inside the cab window. Both Jared and Jensen laughed loudly as the taxi sped away, desperate to leave them behind.
Swaying and weaving, the two made their way up the front walk to the small house they had managed to buy -- with Jeff and Stevie's help. They could hear Maya inside, barking at them and scratching at the door as they worked to unlock the deadbolt. A much more difficult task to accomplish when you're stone drunk.
Finally they stumbled through the door and managed not to fall over onto Maya as they clamoured inside. She jumped up to them, wagging her tail and whining for attention. They fussed over her for a minute or two, talking in slurring baby-words, until Jared asked her if she had to go out. She answered him by leaving he and Jensen at the front door, still wide open, and making her way to her bed by the sofa. Jared nodded drunkenly at her refusal, mumbling a soft, "Alright," at her. He saw Jensen closing the front door. He stepped closer to him, setting one hand at either side of Jensen's head.
Caged in Jared's arms, Jensen had enough room to turn and face him, pressing his back up against the door. He didn't say anything, just looking over at him, his eyes blinking slowly.
"Y'know I love you, right?" Jared asked, his words slurring together.
Jensen nodded. "Yep."
It was silent for a long while. Jensen let Jared keep him there, pressed against the door, gazing into his eyes, across his face. Finally, Jared leaned into Jensen as he took a deep breath. He didn't kiss him, though he was close enough to. Instead, he lingered there for a few seconds before backing away.
"Shit," he said at last. "Alright, let's do it."
At first, Jensen assumed he meant sex. But when Jared made no advances upon him, he furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do what?"
Jared clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms briskly against each other. "Let's do the married thing."
Jensen smiled and shook his head. "No," he refused.
"What?"
"No way," he returned, shaking his head. "I'm not fallin' for that again."
Jared opened his arms wide, seeming stunned. "I'm bein' serious, dude."
"Th'hell you are," he replied. He pushed away from the door, staggering for a moment, and started across the room.
Before he could get past him, Jared reached out and stopped Jensen, taking a handful of the man's shirt. "Don't get your veil in a twist, Bridezilla," he muttered.
"If anything is in a twist, Jared," he began, facing him, "it's your own fault."
Frustrated, Jared sighed. "Will you shut up an' listen t'me, you big stupidhead?"
Jensen clamped his mouth shut and, even though he didn't want to listen, he kept quiet so that Jared could attempt to dig out of the hole he'd dug for himself.
Gazing down at him, Jared shook his head, not sure how else to say what he wanted to say. "I'm telling you I want to marry you, you idiot."
As near-perfect as those words were, Jensen wasn't sure he wanted to hear them. He mimicked the shake of Jared's head. "You're drunk," he said softly.
With a fistful of Jensen's shirt still in his hand, Jared pulled him closer. He rested his forehead against Jensen's, still threatening a kiss, but not giving in. "I'm in love with you," he said, matching Jensen's soft tone. "And I want to do the marriage thing. With you."
"You'd back out of it by morning, Jay," he reminded him. "We both know that."
He finally let go of Jensen, taking a step back. "Then, fuck it," he cursed. "Let's do it right now."
"What?"
"Yeah," he nodded. He backed away a little further, swaying a little as he did. "Let's go to Vegas. We'll get married. With Elvis as the witness."
"Jared."
"Come on!"
He sighed. "Well, what about Maya?"
Jared waved away his question. "We'll be back before she knows it. And if not, I'll call Jeff. He'll look in on her."
He eyed Jared for a moment. "You're oddly comfortable with all of this."
Smiling, Jared neared him again. He wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist, pulling him solidly up against his body. "Can you blame me?" he asked. "I'm marrying the prettiest girl in the world."
"Ugh," Jensen smiled, used to the man's teasing by now. "Shut up."
"Jeff. Jeffy-Jeff-Jeff. Do me a favor, dude. Go let Maya out? Give her a bite to eat, maybe? Jen and I are gone for a day or two. Somethin' really big's goin' down, Jeffy-Jeff. Somethin' freakin' huge, dude. Tell you about it later. See ya."
Laying in bed, Jeff took the cell phone away from his ear. He sighed and snapped it closed, rubbing at his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Stevie asked.
"I gotta go get Maya," he answered, looking over at his wife.
She sat at the edge of the mattress, turned to look at him. Setting a gentle hand to his chest, she looked concerned. "Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"
"Jay's gone and done something stupid."
"Like what?"
He shook his head as it rested against the headboard of the bed. "I don't know," he returned. "He said he'd be gone for a day or two. That he'll tell us after it's all over and done with."
Looking on the bright side, Stevie smiled. "Maybe he's just got a line on a job out in LA. You know that he and Jensen have been talking about moving out there permanently."
Though he wanted to believe her, Jeffrey couldn't get rid of the gnawing nervousness in his gut. "He was drunk, Stevie," he told her.
She thought for a moment, biting at her botton lip. "How drunk?"
"Called me Jeffy-Jeff."
Stevie grimaced. She knew that calling Jeffrey such a name usually meant certain death. "Oh," she said softly.
"Yeah." Heaving himself out of bed, Jeffrey grunted aloud as he moved, feeling older than his forty-something years. "Be back with the new ward in a few."
It was Jared's job to pack while Jensen called the airline. He fished his wallet out of his back pocket, narrowly avoiding falling out of the chair he was sitting in, and put all of the charges on his credit card. He repeatedly mumbled a drunken, quiet, "M'kay," to the woman taking his information. The alcohol was still quite heavy in his bloodstream, making the room spin while he sat there in the chair.
By the time Jensen was done on the phone, Jared emerged from the bedroom, seemingly proud of himself. "Alright, let's go!" he nearly shouted, clapping his hands together.
"Our plane leaves in about an hour," Jensen told him, quickly looking down to Jared's hands, the floor, expecting to see some sort of luggage. "Dude, where are the bags?"
Smiling devilishly, Jared neared him. "We don't need anything but these." He reached into his back jean pocket and produced two, small dark blue books.
Jensen peered at him, quizzically. "Our passports?"
"Yeah!"
He was silent for a second or two, trying to process the information through a heavily clouded brain. "Uh...why?"
"Because," Jared said, animated and clearly feeling no pain whatsoever. "Las Vegas is like...a whole other country. It's their motto."
"Really? I thought it was 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.'"
Emphatically, Jared shook his head. "That's what it used to be. Now, it's 'Vegas -- it's like a whole other country.'"
Shrugging his shoulders, Jensen agreed that maybe it was the right motto after all. He stood from his chair and replaced his wallet. "Hey," he said, momentarily thoughtful. "Are we too drunk to do this?"
Seeming just as thoughtful, Jared shrugged his shoulders. "When was the last time we were too drunk to do something like this?"
It was a late night flight and, to be quite honest, the attendants were pretty damn tired. Jared and Jensen, although they were drunk as hell, didn't make too much of a ruckus. And, when Jared announced to the attendants why they were on the plane, they were given a good number of alcoholic drinks to celebrate.
"We're gettin' hitched," he had told the stewardess, motioning to the man next to him. "Me 'n' him."
"Really?" she'd smiled.
"Yep," he had nodded, his eyes blinking independantly of each other. "'S'gonna be great."
"Well, congratulations," she returned, touching both Jared and Jensen's hands. It wasn't the strangest thing ever said to her. She started to move away, but Jared spoke, halting her movements.
"Will you take our picture?"
Returning her attention to them, she smiled again. "I'm sorry?"
"Here," he said, digging into his pocket and handing her his cell phone. "Use this. Just push this button here."
She did as was asked of her, snapping a picture of the two very drunk men, who were set off on a journey to Las Vegas to get hitched.
"Where's Elvis?"
The master of ceremonies, with a nametag that read FRED DENVER, ignored Jared's question. "Are we ready to begin?"
"I wanna know where Elvis is?"
Fred sighed. "Elvis is another three-hundred and fifty dollars," he explained. "And he's already been booked in the ceremony after yours."
Shocked, Jared's eyes went wide. "Fuck me," he breathed. "Pricey old fart."
"Indeed," Fred nodded. "Is your partner coming?"
"Not without me," he laughed, winking one eye. He noticed that Fred didn't join in on the devious laughter, seeming unimpressed with the crude joke. "Sorry," he apologized. He turned towards the doorway and shouted loudly. "Jen!"
After bellowing loud enough to make Fred Denver jump, Jared turned back to him and smiled.
"He's on his way. Promise."
"I hope so," Fred nodded. "We have another ceremony starting in five minutes."
Jared took the hint. He turned towards the doorway again and screamed, "Jensen!" Turning back to Fred, Jared nodded. "I know, and we really appreciate you guys doing this last minute for us."
"You do know this isn't a marriage ceremony, right?"
Jared paused. "It's not?"
"No, it's a commitment ceremony," Fred explained. "Gay marriage isn't recognized by the state of Nevada."
Annoyed, Jared made a face at him. "Well, that's dumb," he snapped. "You guys are the marriage capital of the world."
"Well." All the man could do was shrug.
"So, it's legal for me to get a whore, but I can't marry the man I've loved for -- Christ -- how many years now?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Fred apologized.
Just then, Jensen arrived. "Sorry," he said, nearing them. "I was just paying for everything."
"Jen," Jared almost interrupted. "This isn''t a marriage license."
Surprising Jared, Jensen just shrugged. "I know," he said. Seeing Jared's shocked expression, Jensen smiled brighter. "It's okay, Jay," he assured him. "I don't need a marriage license. I told you that before. The fact that you're here now, making all this effort -- the fact that you asked me to marry you -- that's all I needed. All I wanted."
Smiling, Jared just looked at him for a moment. He wanted to find his way around the alcohol cobwebs in his head, wanted to tell Jensen how much he loved him. How he never wanted to be without him. Ever. But words weren't his strong point. Never had been, never would be.
"Are we ready?" Fred interrupted.
After another few seconds of silence, both Jared and Jensen gazing into each other's eyes, Jared finally turned towards Fred and nodded. "Let's do this," he agreed.
Silence.
Silence and an underlying droning sound. Unidentifiable. Curious.
Cool air, from some nearby fan that Jared didn't remember buying, grazed over his skin, ruffled his hair.
Already, his head was pounding. He was becoming more aware of himself, of his surroundings. He could tell he was in a chair. He and Jensen only owned a sofa at their house, so he assumed they'd found their way to Jeff and Stevie's house. He assumed the voices around him belonged to Jeff, Stevie, and the rest of the family.
Opening his eyes, Jared saw how wrong his assumptions had been.
Jensen was beside him, just starting to stir. And they were on a plane.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice said, a slight accent making the man's voice sound proper and distinguished. "We are approximately ten minutes from landing. Local London time is five-eleven PM, if you would like to set your watches accordingly. Please secure all carry-on bags in the overhead compartments, clearing the area at your feet for landing."
Jared didn't hear the rest of what the man said. He looked over at Jensen, his eyes wide, and grumbled a low, "Oh, crap."
TBC - Next part will be posted next week!