spn fic: Shout My Name (at heaven's gate) 28/29
Title: Shout My Name (at heaven's gate)
Author: roxymissrose
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Word Count: 6860
Summary: Anno Domini 1951, fifty years after the failed Fertility experiments, the world still deals (somewhat successfully) with the mutations the experiments brought. With the advent of successful mechanical wombs, and a resurgence of female fertility, Carriers finally won full civil rights, and a new type of slavery was abolished. Still, in many small towns and rural parts of America, in isolated communities, carriers were still viewed with suspicion, distaste, or horror.
This is the world Jared finds himself having to navigate.
All chapters at AO3
A/N:Thank you a million times, Fufaraw, Theatregirl7299, Trendykitty, Sonia, and Candygramme, and firesign10! From hand-holding to scrubbing my mistakes. I love you all and thank you for listening to me whine all these years! If I've forgotten anybody, I'm so sorry, please remind me! ♥
With the chill in the air settling in to stay, Jared was happily wearing his beloved old Mr. Jim sweater. The sun picked out all the bright yellow, lime-green, purple stripes on it, made them glow. Jared was well aware now how garish it was, he knew people smirked at him when he wore it, but he didn't care, not a bit. It brought him joy, so the heck with what other people thought. He loved his sweater and was pleased with the occasional genuine smile he received.
Over the sweater, Jared wore a brand new coat: a navy pea coat with silver buttons-being able to buy a thing so pretty was something he was still getting used to, fine things like the coat and his new leather bag. He stroked his thumb along the butter-smooth leather strap crossing his chest. Inside, the beautiful bag was roomy enough for a min comp, but today he only carried several sheets of paper and pencils, just in case inspiration struck, plus a journal almost fully used. Down the block he could see the sign for the InCafe he was supposed to meet Candy at; the sight had him grinning even wider in pleasure. He couldn't wait to catch up with her, and see how she liked living with Mrs. Kawa as her landlord.
He waved wildly at her when he caught sight of her, heading first to the bar to grab a cinnamon cafe latte and a choco-chip muffin, before heading straight to her.
"Oh jeez, I'm starving-hi you!" Jared swung himself onto the free stool next to Candy and dropped his bag onto the high top table. "What are you looking at?" He snapped a healthy chunk from the muffin, and nudged Candy aside so he could stare at the screen already set up on the table.
"Ow, stop, you mooselet," she groused, and popped Jared in the forehead. "I'm trying to read my story."
"You can read on the IC?" Jared asked, immediately fascinated.
"Oh beans, did I never tell you about The Stories? They're, like, the most, Jay!" She flipped her hand like she was waving a fly away, and Jared just smiled. Sometimes, Candy made him feel like he was the older sibling, or, as she put it, her grumpy old grandpa.
"So, peep this-you can subscribe to these stories for a pittance, then each week, you get a brand new chapter to read! I'm following some that are pretty steamy-" she giggled, her cheeks lightning up a brilliant red. "Uhm, well, they-"
"They what?" Jared reached out and swiveled her screen to face him, and nearly dropped his muffin. "Oh. Oh!" his cheeks went warm as well, and he was a bit slower about swinging the screen back towards her, stopping so that now they were sharing the screen. "Well. Goodness. You…you like to read these stories about carriers?"
"Beans! I'm sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, Jay, it's just…well, they're all so well written, and full of heartbreak and longing and love, and, and, really hot? Sorry?" She stumbled to a stop with a shame-faced smile.
It took Jared a moment to get why Candy was so embarrassed; she was afraid that Jared might think she was making a sex object of her friend or people like him because of what they were, what he had been. Well, while he'd never wanted the status himself, he couldn't deny there was something about those stories that was…hot. Besides, he knew Candy loved him for him. He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back, he said, "Dearest one, I insist you share this wonderful world of stories with me now! I've worn out the only two books I have about carriers and haven't found anything even close to them, and this is..this is…" Jared scrolled quickly down a page or two, his eyebrows steadily climbing higher. "Goodness, there is a lot of it. Show me how to get these, please."
"Of course I will," she said, sounding relieved. "I don't have to spend very much money because most of my stories are on free sites, by amateur writers who publish their own words, or their words based on other people's words: fan-fiction we call it, which I know you never heard of and I'll explain but I think you might like it. You pay a fraction of what it costs for pros, but some of my fav writers are pro-level-"
Words flowed over Jared like water in a stream, but all he really heard was "who publish their own" and an electric bolt of amazement sizzled through him. "Jeepers, wait, wait-I can publish my own words?"
"Yes! And people will pay to read them…well, after a while. They have to get to know you and like your style before they'll pay."
"Do I have to pay them to take the story?"
"No! If it's a free story, you just pick a site, and make an account-" She giggled at Jared's look of complete befuddlement.
"Candy, you really have to show me what this is all about. And show me how to subscribe to that carrier story you're reading."
"Oh, I'd love to. And do you like scary stories? I'm reading one now called "Story of a Teenage Grave Robber" by Esse King. Look!"
Candy called it up; Jared read it open-mouthed; mesmerized not only by the story, but by the idea that a person could publish stories people would want to read-would pay to read. Eventually.
He finished the two chapters available, awed by skill the writer had with words, plus the art that went with it. Candy explained that was another layer of "fandom". That one could commission people to illustrate your story, that some people did it out of the sheer love of it, and if they liked your story enough, might offer to illustrate it as a gift.
"You know," Jared said, leaning closer to Candy, whispering like he was imparting a great secret to her, "sometimes I think whole stories in my head just like these: adventures, romance...I wonder if I could do this kind of thing."
"Of course you could. You can do anything, Jay. You're-you're fudging amazing."
=+=
On the way home, tucked into the semi-privacy of the last seat on the trolley, Jared reran the conversation with Candy in his mind, thinking about writing, and how as much as he enjoyed drawing, he liked writing more. He wasn't sure how well he wrote but it gave him pleasure, and writing had helped him through hard times, pouring out his pain and anguish onto paper, sort of like lancing a boil, he thought, though not as repulsively.
Home again, Jared had a quick dinner alone; Jensen had stayed in at Mrs. Kawa's tonight. That was a rare occurrence as he'd taken to spending most of his free time at Jared's bigger apartment, a development Jared heartily approved of; he just wished it was all of his time.
Shaking his head, Jared collected up his various journals and notepads (and backs of menus and bags and napkins due to a tendency to draw and write on any paper surface when inspiration struck him) and wondered if he was being selfish for wanting that. It was just, lately the situation between himself and Jensen was beginning to nag him severely. He grabbed a pencil off his desk, gnawing on it as he high-stepped around his chair, trying to avoid stepping on The Cat who weaved in and out of his legs as he walked.
Had Jensen given any thought to moving into his apartment? If he asked him, would Jensen agree to it? Would he consider it to be as much a commitment as Jared did? Jared bit down a bit harder. Or would he feel Jared was rushing things, assuming too much? Jared figured you could love someone but still want your own space…not that they'd done much keeping to ‘their own space’ lately, he thought. And boy, was it aces, even when some evenings, all they did was sit together, not even talking-just Jensen working on his lesson plans, now that he was a full time elementary school teacher. Jared grinned, the pencil wobbling in his teeth. He just couldn’t be prouder of Jensen, achieving his goal.
On those evening, while Jensen did what he had to, Jared puttered away on whatever personal project struck his fancy, or listened to the radio or read subscribed stories on his brilliant min comp, that is if The Cat hadn't decided that Jared's lap was better than the couch or his basket. Jared sighed, bounced the gnawed-on pencil across his desk. Gosh, it’d be so nice, the three of them living together.
"A family," Jared muttered to himself, shoving pencil and typewriter aside to drop the pile of papers on his desk. He had a job and half ahead of him, organizing all his scattered, barely legible notes to add to the bits and chunks of story he had so far. While he'd thought about typing it all out on the min comp, watching his words appear like magic on the screen, Jared decided that the typewriter was best for him. And apparently for The Cat, who seemed to have a real fondness for the thin sheets of typing paper spread across the surface of Jared's desk.
"Lift, will'ya?" He reached under the furry belly and snagged a few sheets, ignoring the annoyed "rrrr" he got in return. He fed one into the typewriter, cranking the little wheel until the paper sat right, then pressed a key, watching the thin metal arm shoot forward and strike the T key against the creamy-white sheet. He stared at the page, a half smile on his lips that faded into a faint frown.
This was it, the opening shot in the tale of his revenge. He'd just declared war on his old life.
=+=
"So, then what happened?" Jared asked, eyes wide with glee, and locked on Jensen, the way Jen's whole face was lit up, the way his eyes sparkled ice-green as he told his story.
Gulping his still-hot coffee, laced with lots of cream, cinnamon syrup, and something labeled pumpkin spice, Jared waited for Jensen to go on. Jensen chuckled, drawing his fork through the bit of mostly melted whip-cream and the crumbs of a waffle left on the plate, all that was left of a shared brunch.
"Well," Jensen took a quick sip from the double-sized mug of black coffee he'd ordered along with their brunch-Jared just managed to hide a wince at the crime of drinking coffee plain, for heaven's sake-"we tried to run into the forest, but the copper caught me; my so-called friends hid in the bushes, the asses. Left me for a sacrificial lamb. There I stood, while the copper managed to put out the illegal campfire full of our flaming, once-hotdogs-but now-charcoal briquettes on a stick. Then he turned all of his six foot, two hundred inches towards me and in a voice like thunder asked me what the-the-"
Jared snorted and waved permission; Jensen grinned and went on, "What the ever-loving fuck I thought I was doing, setting the woods on fire. And me, standing there, possessed of a brilliance no one else could hope to attain, told the copper 'It's fine, sir, I earned my full Junior League of Service fire maintenance badge, top of my class.' "
Jared set his cup down and crowed, "You did whaaaat? For heck sake, Jensen, that's like-like telling the Elders you didn't need to hear the sermon because you cleaned the pews on Saturday!"
Jared went from audible laughter to shaking silently, oblivious to the looks he got from the bistro’s other patrons. He was nearly in tears from laughing so hard, while Jensen looked on with a wide, happy grin. When Jared was finally able to draw a breath, Jensen went on to say, "Yep, that did not fly. I swear, man turned so red, I thought steam was about t’whistle out his ears. Then, he hauled me off to my parents while my crummy friends absconded. Except for Chris, who sat in the woods all night crying because he thought I was going to jail for life!"
"Oh yes, Chris, I remember him." Jared's glee dimmed, and Jensen looked up, laughter immediately draining out of his own face.
"This was way before I knew Riley, who was never my friend, Jared, not like the others, not like Chris."
Jared gulped a big slug of his creamy coffee. "No, it's okay. I know that out of all of them, if you could have done more for me that night you would have. And Riley was just a pig."
"Just a pig? He was a monster," Jensen growled.
Jared leaned back in his chair, thinking how different things were now compared to then. Now, he felt safer than he'd ever felt in his life, was more content and more certain that he was worthy of being loved by someone like Jensen. When Jensen was with him what happened in the past couldn't touch him. Jensen wouldn't let it touch him, Jared was certain of that.
As they walked out of the bistro, Jared sneaked his hand into Jensen's, feeling a quiet rush of warmth in his chest when Jensen squeezed gently back. They headed for the taxi stands lining the square at the end of the block, willing to splurge for a ride this chilly afternoon. At that hour of the day, the little square was filled with foot traffic, shoppers headed towards the market that spread across the square on the weekends. They'd already been earlier in the morning and the bags they carried with them held what Jared thought was a nice selection of fresh vegetables and fruits, fresh-baked bread and beautiful green and blue chicken's eggs. And despite Jensen's grumbling, a half dozen pastries. Everyone knew pastries were a healthy part of a balanced meal.
Since Jensen had returned, this shopping together had become a staple of their lives. They'd gotten quite domestic in a very short time and Jared loved it. Again Jared thought what could be better than spending every day with Jensen, and what would happen if he brought up the subject?
Later that evening, Jensen cooked a delicious dinner for them to share. He was really grateful it was Jensen's night to cook; Jared's culinary abilities were best labeled serviceable. Their plates already held generous servings of spinach and a creamy rice, which would soon be joined by a coral-colored fish that Jensen swore he'd love. Eyeing his portion, Jared just nodded doubtfully. Where he was from, fish tended to be small, white-fleshed, and bony, so he’d never really been a fan. He had to admit, this fish did smell good, and was pretty to look at as well.
Sitting at his table, chin propped on his hands, and every so often fending off The Cat trying to urge him to snag a bit of fish for his good old roommate, Jared happily watched Jensen at work. He flipped the fillets in the pan with such a serious look, lip bitten between his lovely white teeth, turning the spatula like an, an orchestra conductor.
Jensen looked up and caught Jared gazing at him. "What?" he asked, his lips curving in a small smile.
Without even planning to, "I love you," flowed out of Jared’s mouth, the first time he'd said it since Jensen came back to him, and Jensen's eyes went impossibly brighter-his smile grew; he looked like sunrise.
"Of course you do," he answered, laughing as he dodged the pot holder Jared lobbed at him. Dropping the spatula, he swirled towards Jared, taking him in his arms and swinging him around the kitchen like Gene Kelly, so gracefully that Jared didn't even have a chance to be clumsy. With a flourish, he dipped Jared deeply, then whispered in his ear, "And of course I love you too," before carefully setting Jared in his chair. He leaned forward, and cradled Jared's chin in his fingers. Jared blushed from head to toe, his eyes drifting shut-there was something about the way Jensen's hand felt on his chin that he loved, craved even. He concentrated on the smooth warmth of Jen's fingertips.
Jensen murmured, "Sweetheart, I think I started to fall the first time I set eyes on you. I thought you were a wounded boy who needed me. Now I think, I know, that you are the unflappable Jared T. Padalecki. Strong. Courageous. And it makes me love you even more, the fact that you don’t need me but you want me anyway."
Jared blushed, and tried to think of the perfect way to respond, but ended up just holding out the platter for the finished fillets with a lopsided little grin, and Jensen laughed softly. "Goof."
=+=
The fish really was good, something he never would have tried on his own; Jared marveled at how much he learned from Jensen, how Jensen made the world exciting, made it make sense, and how much he wanted that with Jensen…forever.
After dinner, Jared and Jensen snuggled together on the couch while Jensen opened a package of creamy, rich chocolate bars, so rich that as soon as Jensen tore the foil open, the room was full of the scent of chocolate.
Jared watched as Jensen carefully folded back the beautifully decorated paper, light blue speckled with tiny gold and white birds, smiling slightly as he broke the bar into squares before looking at Jared to hand him a piece. "I bought these chocolates thinking of you, and how we'd share them, how beautiful your smile would look. I knew then I wanted more. I want to be a part of your life. I want to be there as you become who you want to be. Y’know, however, whoever, you decide that is."
Jared held the chocolate, overcome at how Jensen knew what Jared wanted. He blinked away the tears blurring his sight, reached out to Jensen.
"Thank you for understanding me. Holerah, you understood me from the start-you saw what even my own brother missed."Jared shook his head. "I'm not a carrier anymore, Jensen. You have to know that. I told you I didn't regret that part of my life is over, so you. You have to be sure. I can't do that for you, even if it was still possible, I don't think…I just couldn't… "
"Please! Jared, I know. I heard you. Y’know, we have something so good between us right now, and I'm thinking it will only get better as the years go on. We have so much to learn about each other, ah, that is if you think so too."
Jared searched Jensen's face; he imagined he must look very much like a guppy right now. And poor Jensen looked so nervous, that Jared decided he wasn't reading his own message into what Jensen stammered. Smiling, Jared reached out and rubbed his thumb gently against his abused lower lip.
"Stop, Jensen, you're going to bite a hole clean though. Now, am I reading too much into what you just said, or are you asking me to…" He popped the melting square of chocolate in his mouth, sucked the sweet from his thumb and asked, "Are you proposing to me with a bar of chocolate?"
Jensen laughed, blushing so prettily that Jared sighed. "Marry me, Jared. I know it hasn't been that long and I'm just starting out and you have these wonderful plans for yourself and basically I’ve been sort of begging that you'll let me hitch a ride on your journey and-"
"Oh for-yes, Jensen, yes! Forever and ever, oh, forever and ever!"
Excitement, joy, sent Jared surging off his cushion, crowding Jensen against the couch's arm. The blue wrapper fluttered out of Jensen’s hold, chocolate squares tumbling to the floor, forgotten. Everything forgotten, except the need to feel Jensen, to have him pressed tight against his body, feel his heart beating against his chest. Jensen gasped in surprise, clinging back ferociously. Jared's breath went shaky with the intensity of the feeling of being touched again. Of having Jen’s hands on him, rubbing circles up and down his back, murmuring into his neck, his plush lips gliding over that crazy spot under the hinge of Jared's jaw that made his rod weep, it felt so good. Jared's eyes crashed shut; with no strength to open them, he searched blindly for Jensen's lips, groaning happily when they met-soft, so warm, he groaned again just to feel the vibration between their mouths.
He needed them, those kisses. So deep and strong, they went on and on and Jared embarrassed himself by whimpering right into Jen's open mouth. He expected Jensen to laugh at him, steeled himself for it-what Jared didn't expect was for Jensen to moan like his heart was being pulled out of chest, for him to go absolutely boneless against the pillows, and for Jared to have to support him. And that made him instantly, blindingly, hard. Jared felt like crying, it was so good. The touch of Jen’s plush, wet, warmth sliding over Jared’s lips, gliding from mouth to jaw, to neck, sucking, nipping just hard enough to make Jared shiver and squeak-and then fastening on a soft spot right above his collar bone, nursing at that point until Jared gasped out loud. His rod jumped in his pants, and hissing, he struggled to move Jensen's hand from his hip to the aching bulge bowing out the front of his pants, leaking so much his pants were damp.
Jensen wouldn't cooperate, though-his hands remained steadfastly on Jared's waist, like Jared was a blushing virgin which technically he supposed he was but there had been orgasms and, and….
The kisses became impossibly hotter, derailing Jared's thoughts, and he gave up on any attempt to hold in the noise, just gasping and groaning, even cursing as he drowned in just how doggone good it was; Jen's tongue slipping against and flirting with his. When Jen stopped to let them both breathe, he pulled back with a sucking kiss of Jared's lower lip, letting it slide out through his teeth. Jared thought that should hurt, it really should, Jen's sharp, white, teeth digging furrows into his now kiss swollen lips but somehow his body seemed to be…confused. It just made the fire surging through him soar even higher, hotter.
It was insane, happily so-everything excited him, aroused him, made his rod hard as steel and drip like a faucet. Jared shivered and groaned, and pulled away from Jensen just to take a breath.
"Should we, I mean, maybe we should stop, it's-" Jensen looked up at him, so darn hot with his finger-tousled hair, lips gone plumper and dark-pink, panting hard but concerned for Jared as well, and Jared fell for him just a little bit more.
"No!" Jared said immediately, rolling to his feet. He scrubbed his hair away from his face, staggering a bit as Jensen quickly rolled off the couch as well. Frantic to explain, he babbled on, "I mean, yes, but not here, Lord forbid we get tangled in the rug and fall and bash our brains out against the coffee table, or strangle ourselves with a lamp cord, or-"
"Jared?" Jensen said worriedly. "Is this your really weird way of telling me you're not sure about this? I mean, of course we don't have to…?"
"What? No! I mean, yes! I'm a thousand percent sure. It's just, I’d rather be in my bedroom, can you, would you, come with me, please? If you want to?"
"Oh, Jared," Jensen laughed, linking his fingers with Jared's and tugging gently towards the room in question. "I think I’ll die if we don’t."
In his carrier books, the writer, J. Jamie Castor, had described orgasm as "the little death", an exciting phrase, and in Jared’s opinion, quite a romantic one in French-La petite mort. And in fact, as Jared lay twisted in his sheets, head swimming, heart slamming into his ribs, and barely able to breathe, he thought it was a pretty accurate description. There had been a clear, stark few seconds when Jensen had twisted fingers up inside him, and his rod had been what felt like halfway down Jensen's throat, that Jared had been certain he was going to die. And the sound Jensen made when Jared had sloppily returned the favor? Jared had felt almost guilty about pulling a sound like that out of his betrothed.
And really, he absolutely planned to feel guilty-as soon as he stopped feeling smug.
Jared snickered as he rolled to his side, the better to tuck his knees under Jensen's sweet, warm little butt. Looping his arm around Jen's waist, he pulled him closer. "I love you," he muttered into the sweat-sticky dip between Jen's shoulder blades.
"Me too," Jensen whispered sleepily. "Love you."
Jared drifted off to sleep, knowing that in the morning, before breakfast, before anything, they could do this again. Whenever, however, again. Time was on his side.
=+=
Jensen came tottering into Jared's writing room, his undershirt rucked up by the hand scratching his belly, knuckling his eyes with the other. Jared smiled-Jen looked so cute; all of four years old, with his sleep-puffed lips and pillow-creased cheek. Yawning mightily, he shuffled forward and draped himself over Jared's shoulder.
"What'cha doin'? I woke up and y' weren't in bed. Whasat?" Jensen mumbled and poked at the comp screen.
Jared blushed, flailed a bit at the screen. "I couldn't sleep, and-well, I guess it's time to confess. I've been writing stories to publish online in my spare time. I know it sounds like a goofy thing to do, but it's so fun, and it's a little spare money as well. Stressing the 'little'." Sighing, Jared moved so that Jensen could fully see the screen. "Now, don't laugh, but this is my horror-adventure-romance serial," he said and then promptly laughed himself, somewhat embarrassed by the description he'd just given Jensen. It…well, out loud it sounded ridiculous, but he was having the best time with it all. "I freely admit it's silly, but I love trying to scare people, and I love my main characters. People seem to like the Campbell Boys as much as I do."
Jensen nodded, skimming the paragraphs visible on the comp screen. "This is really interesting-I think you've hooked me already. Say, did you do the drawings as well? They're so good."
"Yes, I was just playing around one night, and there they were, the Campbells, Ken and Dave."
"Sam Winchester, s'at supposed to be you?" Jensen leaned closer to the screen, and Jared tried not to wiggle with pleasure at the delicious heat of Jen at his back. Jensen meanwhile was staring hard at the screen, nose wrinkled. He looked even closer, and frowned slightly. "You know, those guys look rather familiar…."
Jared finally laughed out loud. "I know. I just kind of like the idea of us being intrepid monster hunters," he giggled. "And yup, that's the handle I chose. Winchester, for the rifle, and Samuel…" Jared blushed. "It means 'God has heard'."
Jensen kissed the crown of his head, looped his arm across his chest. "Seems appropriate," he murmured.
=+=
Jared watched Jensen read the latest chapter of "Paranormal" while making a cup of cocoa, and glancing over frequently, cataloging the shifts in his expression: the lifted brow, the narrowed eyes, a smile, a frown, a softly muttered, "whoa…" Jared flushed hotly, figuring he must have come to the smut part….
"Wow, Jared, this is exciting stuff. Also, you naughty boy, you."
It felt so good to be able to talk Jensen about his story, to describe what he planned to happen next and why. Eventually, Jared hesitantly asked if Jensen might want to see the project he really loved, the story of himself that he'd been working on since, well, for quite a while, really.
"I'm a bit obsessed, I'll confess. I pluck away at it on my breaks at work, and whenever I can't sleep at night, whenever you're not here…it's a different feeling than the Campbells. It…it's me. My life. And I'm kicking around the idea of trying to have it published as a book, somehow. Something that I can touch, to know I made it, and it's forever." He looked up, blushing furiously, suddenly embarrassed at hearing his words out loud.
Still, Jared handed Jensen a stack of typewritten pages, his manuscript-or the first draft, anyway. Jensen promptly sat and flipped the cover page back to read the opening paragraph aloud; Jared cringed at first but quickly began listening, nodding, thoughtful as he heard his own words spoken by someone he loved, soothed by Jensen's smooth, warm voice.
"The sun would soon rise. I could practically feel the weight of it behind the purple morning clouds. I knew it was selfish, but I thought of this as my time. Dawn was a part of the day I'd always been told was a gift from the Lord to his children. Come winter, come spring, summer or fall, this quiet, soft part of the day belonged to all of us-it belonged to me."
Jensen stroked his thumb across the page, holding the journal in his hands like he was holding something precious. "Would it be okay to read it all?"
Jared’s chest swelled, tight with please surprise, with warmth. "No, no, please do, just, it's really rough, still working on it. The scaffolding’s all there though. Oh, and there are some name changes too, to protect privacy. It's not fair to include anyone who didn't ask to be part of this story-like you." Jared's cheeks felt like they were going to burst into flame, but Jensen leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"See? This is why I love you-you always think of other people as well as yourself."
The next evening, Jensen opened the door and stormed right at Jared, eyebrows drawn tight together, his down-curved mouth and flashing eyes all shouting how angry he was. Jared froze, chest pierced with an instant ache. Jensen had hated the story? Or thought that there was something wrong with Jared, or, or, hated his inclusion, but…
Jensen threw his arms around Jared, squeezing him tight. "I thought I knew, I thought I'd listened to you, knew your story, but Jared, Jared…"
Jared was startled to realize that the warmth on his neck was tears, "Jensen? Jensen, I'm all right now, love, everything 's good, it's okay…"
After a few moments Jen recovered, sniffing and coughing out a watery chuckle. "Jason, hunh?"
Jared giggled softly. "Well, it was that or Ben, but I liked a J sound for you better."
Jensen asked later if Jared would mind if he talked to someone he knew who was knowledgeable about the publishing world. "Jared, this story-I might not know anything about writing, but this story, wow, I just couldn’t stop reading."
"Oh…oh, yes, that's be-well, kind of embarrassing really, but I'd love to get advice from someone who knows how this all works, or if I even have talent," Jared babbled, ignoring Jensen's impatient snort at 'talent'
"Great, good. If it's okay with you, I'd like to give him the manuscript and then maybe set up lunch for the three of us."
"I-what if he thinks it's awful?"
"Not possible. This book is brilliant and they'll love it, I know they will. Uhm, remember when I talked about my Uncle Ibie? Well, he's a writer, maybe not the kind of writer the rest of the family wants to claim, but he does well," Jensen chuckled. "He writes under a pen name, somewhat naughty books about carriers that sell very, very well. He can help, give you advice on how to find a publisher, what steps we need to take-unhf!"
Jared nearly knocked Jensen over with the force of his hug.
=+=
The restaurant Jensen had reserved a lunch date at was a much more upscale place than they’d ever gone before-it was extremely rare for Jensen to admit that he came from money. Jared sat next to Jensen, trying to be subtle about gazing around, his knee bobbing up and down at a frantic pace while sipping at a heavy glass full of sparkly water. He watched people stroll in and out as they waited, Jensen’s commentary on the room and the people a warm background buzz.
It wasn’t long after they ordered drinks that a slightly portly man of average height and graying, shoulder length hair strode confidently into the restaurant, a look of wide-eyed, pleasant anticipation on his face, a gray and ginger mustache bordering a bright, slightly crooked smile. Jared hoped this was the man-there was something about him that Jared liked right away. Sure enough, Jensen stood and waved. "Hello, Uncle!"
The man bustled between the tables, oblivious to the curious looks he got as he bore down on them like a brightly colored steam engine. "Hello, boys," he called out, reached out both hands to take Jensen's and Jared's. "So pleased to see you both! And Jenny-nephew, it’s been way, way, too long! How wonderful we’re finally together again!" He smiled, his eyes meeting Jared’s
Jensen beamed. "Me, too, Uncle Ibie, me too. We’ve got a lot to talk about but...first, Uncle, this is Jared, my fiancé and budding writer; Jared, I'd like to introduce you to J. Jamie Castor, author, and uncle."
Jared blushed, his hands fluttering up to his cheeks. "Oh my gosh, I know you! Desire In the Dust: The Sheikh and the Carrier! That's you! You’re famous!"
The man laughed, shook his hair away from his shoulders with a toss of his head. Beaming at Jared, he removed an eye-wateringly bright, color block jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. " So. Jenny accosted me and insisted I read a certain book immediately-"
"Unc-what did I tell you about that goofy nickname?"
"Have I ever complained about the one you gave me?" The man laughed, then turned towards Jared, who wanted to roll his body up and drop under the table and never see the light of day again.
"I’m so sorry, sir, Jensen shouldn’t have forced my little book on you-"
Jensen’s uncle held his hand up, "Not at all. If I sounded like it was a trial to read then I deeply apologize. It was my honor to read your story, and son, don’t ever call it ‘my little book’. It’s so, so much more than that." Stroking the sides of his mustache, he gave Jared a look warm with concern. "You’ve had quite the life, young Jared. It was one hell of a journey; I felt I was right there with you on all your ups and downs.
He turned towards Jensen with a big smile. "Jenny, I wonder if I could have a couple of minutes alone with your beautiful fiancé here. Just a to ask some questions and get some idea of what he’d like to do with this book?"
"Oh." Jensen said doubtfully, looking at Jared to make sure he felt comfortable with that. "I-I-if that’s something that’s okay with Jared. Jared?"
"It’s okay, Jen," Jared said, surprising himself because that was not at all what he’d planned to say but for some reason, he felt almost as safe with Mr. Castor as he did with his diner family. Jensen kissed him on the cheek and told him that he’d be at a bookstore not far from the restaurant. He whispered in Jared’s ear, "Don't worry about lunch, it’s already paid for."
He winked, then scooted around the table to grab his uncle into a long, tight, hug, and planted a wet smack on his cheek. "I missed you so much, Uncle. You'll come visit us, right? Really soon? I'm dying to catch up, it’s been too long."
“It has, but I’m taking a break now-no tours home or abroad, or lectures for the next six months. I’ve been gone most of two years, and that’s enough. I’ve missed too much of your life already, love. You’ll be sick of me soon," he laughed.
They watched Jensen leave, and then Mr. Castor turned, rummaged about in an incredibly large coat pocket before turning back to Jared with a breathless huff. He dropped a bundle on the table. “So, on my very long tour, I’ve been receiving my post-a packet here, a packet there, mostly containing contracts, inquiries about lectures, but also Jenny keeping me up on his teaching and his military life...so proud of him. But mixed in with that, I have also been receiving the most interesting-well, I suppose I can’t say correspondence if it's entirely one sided…” Mr. Castor carefully opened the bundle and removed what at first Jared thought might be his manuscript but then realized were letters, tied with a purple ribbon.
“Last winter, I’d thought to put my summer house on sale, changed my mind about that. Kept the place, but. Seems some things went missing from it.” He lifted the letters, thumbed through them like a pack of cards, and Jared went faint, his heart beat wildly, the breath froze in his throat. Mr. Castor put the letters down. Held his hand out and said, “I am ever so honored to meet you at last, Jared Tytus Padalecki. Allow me to truly introduce myself-your friend, Jim Beaver.”
Jared swayed in his chair, the whole world tilted, folded into a tunnel in which tinny voices seemed to come from afar. "Mr. Jim Beaver," he gasped, his hand pulling at his suddenly too-tight collar.
Mr. Jim Beaver, the person he’d stolen from, the person he’d poured his heart out to, who had become, in Jared’s mind, his dearest friend...the person who was now sitting across from him and, and, crying?
The older man wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Ah forgive me, Jared, but you have no idea how much I treasured these letters. It broke my heart that I couldn’t answer you. And then one fine day, my nephew comes bearing a book, telling me I had to read “it right this minute”, promising I’d love it. My friend, I fell into this book; my heart simply stopped! How could this be? I think it was fate! God wanted us to meet, I think; you were sent to help me realize that life was what you made of it, good or bad, and you chose good.”
Jim sat back in his chair; his eyes fixed on Jared. He said, “Your letters warmed my soul. More than that, learning all about you gave me room to make peace with what had been stolen from me-and be thankful for what I gained.”
Jared shook his head frantically. He didn't want Mr. Jim thinking he was some sort of messenger of the Lord. He was just a stupid kid who’d made stupid mistakes, and then poured his heart out to a stranger. Mr. Jim opened his mouth, and for one awful second he thought Mr. Jim was about to say the Lord works in mysterious ways, but he said, “My heart was sore that I couldn't respond, but I kept every single one of your letters like a close and secret wish, my very dear friend. Y'know, I never spoke of it to anyone, not even to Jenny. Then finally I was home, and here he is, sharing that he was in love with a wonderful person, that his fiancé also happened to be an amazing writer. When he gave me the book to read…Jared. I read those words and I knew.”
Jim laughed, throwing his head back. “By all saints, here was the person who helped me by reminding me that there was love and decency in the world. You've suffered, and won, and suffered again, but what a spirit, what a fine, unbroken spirit. I couldn't wish a better partner for Jensen."
Jared choked, emotion making it hard to speak. “I think you’ve got it backwards, Mr. Jim. “Without you, I think I would have sunk into my own sadness and never surfaced. You were the kind, listening ear I needed when I had no one, support when I felt no one else understood. Once, I would have said the Lord meant for us to meet, he meant for it to save both of us. But,” Jared smiled, “I’m rather more humble than that now, and think this was just a happy, happy accident.”
Jim smiled, winked, and said, “Then here’s to love and friendships, and very happy accidents.”
chapter 29
Author: roxymissrose
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Word Count: 6860
Summary: Anno Domini 1951, fifty years after the failed Fertility experiments, the world still deals (somewhat successfully) with the mutations the experiments brought. With the advent of successful mechanical wombs, and a resurgence of female fertility, Carriers finally won full civil rights, and a new type of slavery was abolished. Still, in many small towns and rural parts of America, in isolated communities, carriers were still viewed with suspicion, distaste, or horror.
This is the world Jared finds himself having to navigate.
All chapters at AO3
A/N:Thank you a million times, Fufaraw, Theatregirl7299, Trendykitty, Sonia, and Candygramme, and firesign10! From hand-holding to scrubbing my mistakes. I love you all and thank you for listening to me whine all these years! If I've forgotten anybody, I'm so sorry, please remind me! ♥
With the chill in the air settling in to stay, Jared was happily wearing his beloved old Mr. Jim sweater. The sun picked out all the bright yellow, lime-green, purple stripes on it, made them glow. Jared was well aware now how garish it was, he knew people smirked at him when he wore it, but he didn't care, not a bit. It brought him joy, so the heck with what other people thought. He loved his sweater and was pleased with the occasional genuine smile he received.
Over the sweater, Jared wore a brand new coat: a navy pea coat with silver buttons-being able to buy a thing so pretty was something he was still getting used to, fine things like the coat and his new leather bag. He stroked his thumb along the butter-smooth leather strap crossing his chest. Inside, the beautiful bag was roomy enough for a min comp, but today he only carried several sheets of paper and pencils, just in case inspiration struck, plus a journal almost fully used. Down the block he could see the sign for the InCafe he was supposed to meet Candy at; the sight had him grinning even wider in pleasure. He couldn't wait to catch up with her, and see how she liked living with Mrs. Kawa as her landlord.
He waved wildly at her when he caught sight of her, heading first to the bar to grab a cinnamon cafe latte and a choco-chip muffin, before heading straight to her.
"Oh jeez, I'm starving-hi you!" Jared swung himself onto the free stool next to Candy and dropped his bag onto the high top table. "What are you looking at?" He snapped a healthy chunk from the muffin, and nudged Candy aside so he could stare at the screen already set up on the table.
"Ow, stop, you mooselet," she groused, and popped Jared in the forehead. "I'm trying to read my story."
"You can read on the IC?" Jared asked, immediately fascinated.
"Oh beans, did I never tell you about The Stories? They're, like, the most, Jay!" She flipped her hand like she was waving a fly away, and Jared just smiled. Sometimes, Candy made him feel like he was the older sibling, or, as she put it, her grumpy old grandpa.
"So, peep this-you can subscribe to these stories for a pittance, then each week, you get a brand new chapter to read! I'm following some that are pretty steamy-" she giggled, her cheeks lightning up a brilliant red. "Uhm, well, they-"
"They what?" Jared reached out and swiveled her screen to face him, and nearly dropped his muffin. "Oh. Oh!" his cheeks went warm as well, and he was a bit slower about swinging the screen back towards her, stopping so that now they were sharing the screen. "Well. Goodness. You…you like to read these stories about carriers?"
"Beans! I'm sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, Jay, it's just…well, they're all so well written, and full of heartbreak and longing and love, and, and, really hot? Sorry?" She stumbled to a stop with a shame-faced smile.
It took Jared a moment to get why Candy was so embarrassed; she was afraid that Jared might think she was making a sex object of her friend or people like him because of what they were, what he had been. Well, while he'd never wanted the status himself, he couldn't deny there was something about those stories that was…hot. Besides, he knew Candy loved him for him. He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back, he said, "Dearest one, I insist you share this wonderful world of stories with me now! I've worn out the only two books I have about carriers and haven't found anything even close to them, and this is..this is…" Jared scrolled quickly down a page or two, his eyebrows steadily climbing higher. "Goodness, there is a lot of it. Show me how to get these, please."
"Of course I will," she said, sounding relieved. "I don't have to spend very much money because most of my stories are on free sites, by amateur writers who publish their own words, or their words based on other people's words: fan-fiction we call it, which I know you never heard of and I'll explain but I think you might like it. You pay a fraction of what it costs for pros, but some of my fav writers are pro-level-"
Words flowed over Jared like water in a stream, but all he really heard was "who publish their own" and an electric bolt of amazement sizzled through him. "Jeepers, wait, wait-I can publish my own words?"
"Yes! And people will pay to read them…well, after a while. They have to get to know you and like your style before they'll pay."
"Do I have to pay them to take the story?"
"No! If it's a free story, you just pick a site, and make an account-" She giggled at Jared's look of complete befuddlement.
"Candy, you really have to show me what this is all about. And show me how to subscribe to that carrier story you're reading."
"Oh, I'd love to. And do you like scary stories? I'm reading one now called "Story of a Teenage Grave Robber" by Esse King. Look!"
Candy called it up; Jared read it open-mouthed; mesmerized not only by the story, but by the idea that a person could publish stories people would want to read-would pay to read. Eventually.
He finished the two chapters available, awed by skill the writer had with words, plus the art that went with it. Candy explained that was another layer of "fandom". That one could commission people to illustrate your story, that some people did it out of the sheer love of it, and if they liked your story enough, might offer to illustrate it as a gift.
"You know," Jared said, leaning closer to Candy, whispering like he was imparting a great secret to her, "sometimes I think whole stories in my head just like these: adventures, romance...I wonder if I could do this kind of thing."
"Of course you could. You can do anything, Jay. You're-you're fudging amazing."
=+=
On the way home, tucked into the semi-privacy of the last seat on the trolley, Jared reran the conversation with Candy in his mind, thinking about writing, and how as much as he enjoyed drawing, he liked writing more. He wasn't sure how well he wrote but it gave him pleasure, and writing had helped him through hard times, pouring out his pain and anguish onto paper, sort of like lancing a boil, he thought, though not as repulsively.
Home again, Jared had a quick dinner alone; Jensen had stayed in at Mrs. Kawa's tonight. That was a rare occurrence as he'd taken to spending most of his free time at Jared's bigger apartment, a development Jared heartily approved of; he just wished it was all of his time.
Shaking his head, Jared collected up his various journals and notepads (and backs of menus and bags and napkins due to a tendency to draw and write on any paper surface when inspiration struck him) and wondered if he was being selfish for wanting that. It was just, lately the situation between himself and Jensen was beginning to nag him severely. He grabbed a pencil off his desk, gnawing on it as he high-stepped around his chair, trying to avoid stepping on The Cat who weaved in and out of his legs as he walked.
Had Jensen given any thought to moving into his apartment? If he asked him, would Jensen agree to it? Would he consider it to be as much a commitment as Jared did? Jared bit down a bit harder. Or would he feel Jared was rushing things, assuming too much? Jared figured you could love someone but still want your own space…not that they'd done much keeping to ‘their own space’ lately, he thought. And boy, was it aces, even when some evenings, all they did was sit together, not even talking-just Jensen working on his lesson plans, now that he was a full time elementary school teacher. Jared grinned, the pencil wobbling in his teeth. He just couldn’t be prouder of Jensen, achieving his goal.
On those evening, while Jensen did what he had to, Jared puttered away on whatever personal project struck his fancy, or listened to the radio or read subscribed stories on his brilliant min comp, that is if The Cat hadn't decided that Jared's lap was better than the couch or his basket. Jared sighed, bounced the gnawed-on pencil across his desk. Gosh, it’d be so nice, the three of them living together.
"A family," Jared muttered to himself, shoving pencil and typewriter aside to drop the pile of papers on his desk. He had a job and half ahead of him, organizing all his scattered, barely legible notes to add to the bits and chunks of story he had so far. While he'd thought about typing it all out on the min comp, watching his words appear like magic on the screen, Jared decided that the typewriter was best for him. And apparently for The Cat, who seemed to have a real fondness for the thin sheets of typing paper spread across the surface of Jared's desk.
"Lift, will'ya?" He reached under the furry belly and snagged a few sheets, ignoring the annoyed "rrrr" he got in return. He fed one into the typewriter, cranking the little wheel until the paper sat right, then pressed a key, watching the thin metal arm shoot forward and strike the T key against the creamy-white sheet. He stared at the page, a half smile on his lips that faded into a faint frown.
This was it, the opening shot in the tale of his revenge. He'd just declared war on his old life.
=+=
"So, then what happened?" Jared asked, eyes wide with glee, and locked on Jensen, the way Jen's whole face was lit up, the way his eyes sparkled ice-green as he told his story.
Gulping his still-hot coffee, laced with lots of cream, cinnamon syrup, and something labeled pumpkin spice, Jared waited for Jensen to go on. Jensen chuckled, drawing his fork through the bit of mostly melted whip-cream and the crumbs of a waffle left on the plate, all that was left of a shared brunch.
"Well," Jensen took a quick sip from the double-sized mug of black coffee he'd ordered along with their brunch-Jared just managed to hide a wince at the crime of drinking coffee plain, for heaven's sake-"we tried to run into the forest, but the copper caught me; my so-called friends hid in the bushes, the asses. Left me for a sacrificial lamb. There I stood, while the copper managed to put out the illegal campfire full of our flaming, once-hotdogs-but now-charcoal briquettes on a stick. Then he turned all of his six foot, two hundred inches towards me and in a voice like thunder asked me what the-the-"
Jared snorted and waved permission; Jensen grinned and went on, "What the ever-loving fuck I thought I was doing, setting the woods on fire. And me, standing there, possessed of a brilliance no one else could hope to attain, told the copper 'It's fine, sir, I earned my full Junior League of Service fire maintenance badge, top of my class.' "
Jared set his cup down and crowed, "You did whaaaat? For heck sake, Jensen, that's like-like telling the Elders you didn't need to hear the sermon because you cleaned the pews on Saturday!"
Jared went from audible laughter to shaking silently, oblivious to the looks he got from the bistro’s other patrons. He was nearly in tears from laughing so hard, while Jensen looked on with a wide, happy grin. When Jared was finally able to draw a breath, Jensen went on to say, "Yep, that did not fly. I swear, man turned so red, I thought steam was about t’whistle out his ears. Then, he hauled me off to my parents while my crummy friends absconded. Except for Chris, who sat in the woods all night crying because he thought I was going to jail for life!"
"Oh yes, Chris, I remember him." Jared's glee dimmed, and Jensen looked up, laughter immediately draining out of his own face.
"This was way before I knew Riley, who was never my friend, Jared, not like the others, not like Chris."
Jared gulped a big slug of his creamy coffee. "No, it's okay. I know that out of all of them, if you could have done more for me that night you would have. And Riley was just a pig."
"Just a pig? He was a monster," Jensen growled.
Jared leaned back in his chair, thinking how different things were now compared to then. Now, he felt safer than he'd ever felt in his life, was more content and more certain that he was worthy of being loved by someone like Jensen. When Jensen was with him what happened in the past couldn't touch him. Jensen wouldn't let it touch him, Jared was certain of that.
As they walked out of the bistro, Jared sneaked his hand into Jensen's, feeling a quiet rush of warmth in his chest when Jensen squeezed gently back. They headed for the taxi stands lining the square at the end of the block, willing to splurge for a ride this chilly afternoon. At that hour of the day, the little square was filled with foot traffic, shoppers headed towards the market that spread across the square on the weekends. They'd already been earlier in the morning and the bags they carried with them held what Jared thought was a nice selection of fresh vegetables and fruits, fresh-baked bread and beautiful green and blue chicken's eggs. And despite Jensen's grumbling, a half dozen pastries. Everyone knew pastries were a healthy part of a balanced meal.
Since Jensen had returned, this shopping together had become a staple of their lives. They'd gotten quite domestic in a very short time and Jared loved it. Again Jared thought what could be better than spending every day with Jensen, and what would happen if he brought up the subject?
Later that evening, Jensen cooked a delicious dinner for them to share. He was really grateful it was Jensen's night to cook; Jared's culinary abilities were best labeled serviceable. Their plates already held generous servings of spinach and a creamy rice, which would soon be joined by a coral-colored fish that Jensen swore he'd love. Eyeing his portion, Jared just nodded doubtfully. Where he was from, fish tended to be small, white-fleshed, and bony, so he’d never really been a fan. He had to admit, this fish did smell good, and was pretty to look at as well.
Sitting at his table, chin propped on his hands, and every so often fending off The Cat trying to urge him to snag a bit of fish for his good old roommate, Jared happily watched Jensen at work. He flipped the fillets in the pan with such a serious look, lip bitten between his lovely white teeth, turning the spatula like an, an orchestra conductor.
Jensen looked up and caught Jared gazing at him. "What?" he asked, his lips curving in a small smile.
Without even planning to, "I love you," flowed out of Jared’s mouth, the first time he'd said it since Jensen came back to him, and Jensen's eyes went impossibly brighter-his smile grew; he looked like sunrise.
"Of course you do," he answered, laughing as he dodged the pot holder Jared lobbed at him. Dropping the spatula, he swirled towards Jared, taking him in his arms and swinging him around the kitchen like Gene Kelly, so gracefully that Jared didn't even have a chance to be clumsy. With a flourish, he dipped Jared deeply, then whispered in his ear, "And of course I love you too," before carefully setting Jared in his chair. He leaned forward, and cradled Jared's chin in his fingers. Jared blushed from head to toe, his eyes drifting shut-there was something about the way Jensen's hand felt on his chin that he loved, craved even. He concentrated on the smooth warmth of Jen's fingertips.
Jensen murmured, "Sweetheart, I think I started to fall the first time I set eyes on you. I thought you were a wounded boy who needed me. Now I think, I know, that you are the unflappable Jared T. Padalecki. Strong. Courageous. And it makes me love you even more, the fact that you don’t need me but you want me anyway."
Jared blushed, and tried to think of the perfect way to respond, but ended up just holding out the platter for the finished fillets with a lopsided little grin, and Jensen laughed softly. "Goof."
=+=
The fish really was good, something he never would have tried on his own; Jared marveled at how much he learned from Jensen, how Jensen made the world exciting, made it make sense, and how much he wanted that with Jensen…forever.
After dinner, Jared and Jensen snuggled together on the couch while Jensen opened a package of creamy, rich chocolate bars, so rich that as soon as Jensen tore the foil open, the room was full of the scent of chocolate.
Jared watched as Jensen carefully folded back the beautifully decorated paper, light blue speckled with tiny gold and white birds, smiling slightly as he broke the bar into squares before looking at Jared to hand him a piece. "I bought these chocolates thinking of you, and how we'd share them, how beautiful your smile would look. I knew then I wanted more. I want to be a part of your life. I want to be there as you become who you want to be. Y’know, however, whoever, you decide that is."
Jared held the chocolate, overcome at how Jensen knew what Jared wanted. He blinked away the tears blurring his sight, reached out to Jensen.
"Thank you for understanding me. Holerah, you understood me from the start-you saw what even my own brother missed."Jared shook his head. "I'm not a carrier anymore, Jensen. You have to know that. I told you I didn't regret that part of my life is over, so you. You have to be sure. I can't do that for you, even if it was still possible, I don't think…I just couldn't… "
"Please! Jared, I know. I heard you. Y’know, we have something so good between us right now, and I'm thinking it will only get better as the years go on. We have so much to learn about each other, ah, that is if you think so too."
Jared searched Jensen's face; he imagined he must look very much like a guppy right now. And poor Jensen looked so nervous, that Jared decided he wasn't reading his own message into what Jensen stammered. Smiling, Jared reached out and rubbed his thumb gently against his abused lower lip.
"Stop, Jensen, you're going to bite a hole clean though. Now, am I reading too much into what you just said, or are you asking me to…" He popped the melting square of chocolate in his mouth, sucked the sweet from his thumb and asked, "Are you proposing to me with a bar of chocolate?"
Jensen laughed, blushing so prettily that Jared sighed. "Marry me, Jared. I know it hasn't been that long and I'm just starting out and you have these wonderful plans for yourself and basically I’ve been sort of begging that you'll let me hitch a ride on your journey and-"
"Oh for-yes, Jensen, yes! Forever and ever, oh, forever and ever!"
Excitement, joy, sent Jared surging off his cushion, crowding Jensen against the couch's arm. The blue wrapper fluttered out of Jensen’s hold, chocolate squares tumbling to the floor, forgotten. Everything forgotten, except the need to feel Jensen, to have him pressed tight against his body, feel his heart beating against his chest. Jensen gasped in surprise, clinging back ferociously. Jared's breath went shaky with the intensity of the feeling of being touched again. Of having Jen’s hands on him, rubbing circles up and down his back, murmuring into his neck, his plush lips gliding over that crazy spot under the hinge of Jared's jaw that made his rod weep, it felt so good. Jared's eyes crashed shut; with no strength to open them, he searched blindly for Jensen's lips, groaning happily when they met-soft, so warm, he groaned again just to feel the vibration between their mouths.
He needed them, those kisses. So deep and strong, they went on and on and Jared embarrassed himself by whimpering right into Jen's open mouth. He expected Jensen to laugh at him, steeled himself for it-what Jared didn't expect was for Jensen to moan like his heart was being pulled out of chest, for him to go absolutely boneless against the pillows, and for Jared to have to support him. And that made him instantly, blindingly, hard. Jared felt like crying, it was so good. The touch of Jen’s plush, wet, warmth sliding over Jared’s lips, gliding from mouth to jaw, to neck, sucking, nipping just hard enough to make Jared shiver and squeak-and then fastening on a soft spot right above his collar bone, nursing at that point until Jared gasped out loud. His rod jumped in his pants, and hissing, he struggled to move Jensen's hand from his hip to the aching bulge bowing out the front of his pants, leaking so much his pants were damp.
Jensen wouldn't cooperate, though-his hands remained steadfastly on Jared's waist, like Jared was a blushing virgin which technically he supposed he was but there had been orgasms and, and….
The kisses became impossibly hotter, derailing Jared's thoughts, and he gave up on any attempt to hold in the noise, just gasping and groaning, even cursing as he drowned in just how doggone good it was; Jen's tongue slipping against and flirting with his. When Jen stopped to let them both breathe, he pulled back with a sucking kiss of Jared's lower lip, letting it slide out through his teeth. Jared thought that should hurt, it really should, Jen's sharp, white, teeth digging furrows into his now kiss swollen lips but somehow his body seemed to be…confused. It just made the fire surging through him soar even higher, hotter.
It was insane, happily so-everything excited him, aroused him, made his rod hard as steel and drip like a faucet. Jared shivered and groaned, and pulled away from Jensen just to take a breath.
"Should we, I mean, maybe we should stop, it's-" Jensen looked up at him, so darn hot with his finger-tousled hair, lips gone plumper and dark-pink, panting hard but concerned for Jared as well, and Jared fell for him just a little bit more.
"No!" Jared said immediately, rolling to his feet. He scrubbed his hair away from his face, staggering a bit as Jensen quickly rolled off the couch as well. Frantic to explain, he babbled on, "I mean, yes, but not here, Lord forbid we get tangled in the rug and fall and bash our brains out against the coffee table, or strangle ourselves with a lamp cord, or-"
"Jared?" Jensen said worriedly. "Is this your really weird way of telling me you're not sure about this? I mean, of course we don't have to…?"
"What? No! I mean, yes! I'm a thousand percent sure. It's just, I’d rather be in my bedroom, can you, would you, come with me, please? If you want to?"
"Oh, Jared," Jensen laughed, linking his fingers with Jared's and tugging gently towards the room in question. "I think I’ll die if we don’t."
In his carrier books, the writer, J. Jamie Castor, had described orgasm as "the little death", an exciting phrase, and in Jared’s opinion, quite a romantic one in French-La petite mort. And in fact, as Jared lay twisted in his sheets, head swimming, heart slamming into his ribs, and barely able to breathe, he thought it was a pretty accurate description. There had been a clear, stark few seconds when Jensen had twisted fingers up inside him, and his rod had been what felt like halfway down Jensen's throat, that Jared had been certain he was going to die. And the sound Jensen made when Jared had sloppily returned the favor? Jared had felt almost guilty about pulling a sound like that out of his betrothed.
And really, he absolutely planned to feel guilty-as soon as he stopped feeling smug.
Jared snickered as he rolled to his side, the better to tuck his knees under Jensen's sweet, warm little butt. Looping his arm around Jen's waist, he pulled him closer. "I love you," he muttered into the sweat-sticky dip between Jen's shoulder blades.
"Me too," Jensen whispered sleepily. "Love you."
Jared drifted off to sleep, knowing that in the morning, before breakfast, before anything, they could do this again. Whenever, however, again. Time was on his side.
=+=
Jensen came tottering into Jared's writing room, his undershirt rucked up by the hand scratching his belly, knuckling his eyes with the other. Jared smiled-Jen looked so cute; all of four years old, with his sleep-puffed lips and pillow-creased cheek. Yawning mightily, he shuffled forward and draped himself over Jared's shoulder.
"What'cha doin'? I woke up and y' weren't in bed. Whasat?" Jensen mumbled and poked at the comp screen.
Jared blushed, flailed a bit at the screen. "I couldn't sleep, and-well, I guess it's time to confess. I've been writing stories to publish online in my spare time. I know it sounds like a goofy thing to do, but it's so fun, and it's a little spare money as well. Stressing the 'little'." Sighing, Jared moved so that Jensen could fully see the screen. "Now, don't laugh, but this is my horror-adventure-romance serial," he said and then promptly laughed himself, somewhat embarrassed by the description he'd just given Jensen. It…well, out loud it sounded ridiculous, but he was having the best time with it all. "I freely admit it's silly, but I love trying to scare people, and I love my main characters. People seem to like the Campbell Boys as much as I do."
Jensen nodded, skimming the paragraphs visible on the comp screen. "This is really interesting-I think you've hooked me already. Say, did you do the drawings as well? They're so good."
"Yes, I was just playing around one night, and there they were, the Campbells, Ken and Dave."
"Sam Winchester, s'at supposed to be you?" Jensen leaned closer to the screen, and Jared tried not to wiggle with pleasure at the delicious heat of Jen at his back. Jensen meanwhile was staring hard at the screen, nose wrinkled. He looked even closer, and frowned slightly. "You know, those guys look rather familiar…."
Jared finally laughed out loud. "I know. I just kind of like the idea of us being intrepid monster hunters," he giggled. "And yup, that's the handle I chose. Winchester, for the rifle, and Samuel…" Jared blushed. "It means 'God has heard'."
Jensen kissed the crown of his head, looped his arm across his chest. "Seems appropriate," he murmured.
=+=
Jared watched Jensen read the latest chapter of "Paranormal" while making a cup of cocoa, and glancing over frequently, cataloging the shifts in his expression: the lifted brow, the narrowed eyes, a smile, a frown, a softly muttered, "whoa…" Jared flushed hotly, figuring he must have come to the smut part….
"Wow, Jared, this is exciting stuff. Also, you naughty boy, you."
It felt so good to be able to talk Jensen about his story, to describe what he planned to happen next and why. Eventually, Jared hesitantly asked if Jensen might want to see the project he really loved, the story of himself that he'd been working on since, well, for quite a while, really.
"I'm a bit obsessed, I'll confess. I pluck away at it on my breaks at work, and whenever I can't sleep at night, whenever you're not here…it's a different feeling than the Campbells. It…it's me. My life. And I'm kicking around the idea of trying to have it published as a book, somehow. Something that I can touch, to know I made it, and it's forever." He looked up, blushing furiously, suddenly embarrassed at hearing his words out loud.
Still, Jared handed Jensen a stack of typewritten pages, his manuscript-or the first draft, anyway. Jensen promptly sat and flipped the cover page back to read the opening paragraph aloud; Jared cringed at first but quickly began listening, nodding, thoughtful as he heard his own words spoken by someone he loved, soothed by Jensen's smooth, warm voice.
"The sun would soon rise. I could practically feel the weight of it behind the purple morning clouds. I knew it was selfish, but I thought of this as my time. Dawn was a part of the day I'd always been told was a gift from the Lord to his children. Come winter, come spring, summer or fall, this quiet, soft part of the day belonged to all of us-it belonged to me."
Jensen stroked his thumb across the page, holding the journal in his hands like he was holding something precious. "Would it be okay to read it all?"
Jared’s chest swelled, tight with please surprise, with warmth. "No, no, please do, just, it's really rough, still working on it. The scaffolding’s all there though. Oh, and there are some name changes too, to protect privacy. It's not fair to include anyone who didn't ask to be part of this story-like you." Jared's cheeks felt like they were going to burst into flame, but Jensen leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"See? This is why I love you-you always think of other people as well as yourself."
The next evening, Jensen opened the door and stormed right at Jared, eyebrows drawn tight together, his down-curved mouth and flashing eyes all shouting how angry he was. Jared froze, chest pierced with an instant ache. Jensen had hated the story? Or thought that there was something wrong with Jared, or, or, hated his inclusion, but…
Jensen threw his arms around Jared, squeezing him tight. "I thought I knew, I thought I'd listened to you, knew your story, but Jared, Jared…"
Jared was startled to realize that the warmth on his neck was tears, "Jensen? Jensen, I'm all right now, love, everything 's good, it's okay…"
After a few moments Jen recovered, sniffing and coughing out a watery chuckle. "Jason, hunh?"
Jared giggled softly. "Well, it was that or Ben, but I liked a J sound for you better."
Jensen asked later if Jared would mind if he talked to someone he knew who was knowledgeable about the publishing world. "Jared, this story-I might not know anything about writing, but this story, wow, I just couldn’t stop reading."
"Oh…oh, yes, that's be-well, kind of embarrassing really, but I'd love to get advice from someone who knows how this all works, or if I even have talent," Jared babbled, ignoring Jensen's impatient snort at 'talent'
"Great, good. If it's okay with you, I'd like to give him the manuscript and then maybe set up lunch for the three of us."
"I-what if he thinks it's awful?"
"Not possible. This book is brilliant and they'll love it, I know they will. Uhm, remember when I talked about my Uncle Ibie? Well, he's a writer, maybe not the kind of writer the rest of the family wants to claim, but he does well," Jensen chuckled. "He writes under a pen name, somewhat naughty books about carriers that sell very, very well. He can help, give you advice on how to find a publisher, what steps we need to take-unhf!"
Jared nearly knocked Jensen over with the force of his hug.
=+=
The restaurant Jensen had reserved a lunch date at was a much more upscale place than they’d ever gone before-it was extremely rare for Jensen to admit that he came from money. Jared sat next to Jensen, trying to be subtle about gazing around, his knee bobbing up and down at a frantic pace while sipping at a heavy glass full of sparkly water. He watched people stroll in and out as they waited, Jensen’s commentary on the room and the people a warm background buzz.
It wasn’t long after they ordered drinks that a slightly portly man of average height and graying, shoulder length hair strode confidently into the restaurant, a look of wide-eyed, pleasant anticipation on his face, a gray and ginger mustache bordering a bright, slightly crooked smile. Jared hoped this was the man-there was something about him that Jared liked right away. Sure enough, Jensen stood and waved. "Hello, Uncle!"
The man bustled between the tables, oblivious to the curious looks he got as he bore down on them like a brightly colored steam engine. "Hello, boys," he called out, reached out both hands to take Jensen's and Jared's. "So pleased to see you both! And Jenny-nephew, it’s been way, way, too long! How wonderful we’re finally together again!" He smiled, his eyes meeting Jared’s
Jensen beamed. "Me, too, Uncle Ibie, me too. We’ve got a lot to talk about but...first, Uncle, this is Jared, my fiancé and budding writer; Jared, I'd like to introduce you to J. Jamie Castor, author, and uncle."
Jared blushed, his hands fluttering up to his cheeks. "Oh my gosh, I know you! Desire In the Dust: The Sheikh and the Carrier! That's you! You’re famous!"
The man laughed, shook his hair away from his shoulders with a toss of his head. Beaming at Jared, he removed an eye-wateringly bright, color block jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. " So. Jenny accosted me and insisted I read a certain book immediately-"
"Unc-what did I tell you about that goofy nickname?"
"Have I ever complained about the one you gave me?" The man laughed, then turned towards Jared, who wanted to roll his body up and drop under the table and never see the light of day again.
"I’m so sorry, sir, Jensen shouldn’t have forced my little book on you-"
Jensen’s uncle held his hand up, "Not at all. If I sounded like it was a trial to read then I deeply apologize. It was my honor to read your story, and son, don’t ever call it ‘my little book’. It’s so, so much more than that." Stroking the sides of his mustache, he gave Jared a look warm with concern. "You’ve had quite the life, young Jared. It was one hell of a journey; I felt I was right there with you on all your ups and downs.
He turned towards Jensen with a big smile. "Jenny, I wonder if I could have a couple of minutes alone with your beautiful fiancé here. Just a to ask some questions and get some idea of what he’d like to do with this book?"
"Oh." Jensen said doubtfully, looking at Jared to make sure he felt comfortable with that. "I-I-if that’s something that’s okay with Jared. Jared?"
"It’s okay, Jen," Jared said, surprising himself because that was not at all what he’d planned to say but for some reason, he felt almost as safe with Mr. Castor as he did with his diner family. Jensen kissed him on the cheek and told him that he’d be at a bookstore not far from the restaurant. He whispered in Jared’s ear, "Don't worry about lunch, it’s already paid for."
He winked, then scooted around the table to grab his uncle into a long, tight, hug, and planted a wet smack on his cheek. "I missed you so much, Uncle. You'll come visit us, right? Really soon? I'm dying to catch up, it’s been too long."
“It has, but I’m taking a break now-no tours home or abroad, or lectures for the next six months. I’ve been gone most of two years, and that’s enough. I’ve missed too much of your life already, love. You’ll be sick of me soon," he laughed.
They watched Jensen leave, and then Mr. Castor turned, rummaged about in an incredibly large coat pocket before turning back to Jared with a breathless huff. He dropped a bundle on the table. “So, on my very long tour, I’ve been receiving my post-a packet here, a packet there, mostly containing contracts, inquiries about lectures, but also Jenny keeping me up on his teaching and his military life...so proud of him. But mixed in with that, I have also been receiving the most interesting-well, I suppose I can’t say correspondence if it's entirely one sided…” Mr. Castor carefully opened the bundle and removed what at first Jared thought might be his manuscript but then realized were letters, tied with a purple ribbon.
“Last winter, I’d thought to put my summer house on sale, changed my mind about that. Kept the place, but. Seems some things went missing from it.” He lifted the letters, thumbed through them like a pack of cards, and Jared went faint, his heart beat wildly, the breath froze in his throat. Mr. Castor put the letters down. Held his hand out and said, “I am ever so honored to meet you at last, Jared Tytus Padalecki. Allow me to truly introduce myself-your friend, Jim Beaver.”
Jared swayed in his chair, the whole world tilted, folded into a tunnel in which tinny voices seemed to come from afar. "Mr. Jim Beaver," he gasped, his hand pulling at his suddenly too-tight collar.
Mr. Jim Beaver, the person he’d stolen from, the person he’d poured his heart out to, who had become, in Jared’s mind, his dearest friend...the person who was now sitting across from him and, and, crying?
The older man wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Ah forgive me, Jared, but you have no idea how much I treasured these letters. It broke my heart that I couldn’t answer you. And then one fine day, my nephew comes bearing a book, telling me I had to read “it right this minute”, promising I’d love it. My friend, I fell into this book; my heart simply stopped! How could this be? I think it was fate! God wanted us to meet, I think; you were sent to help me realize that life was what you made of it, good or bad, and you chose good.”
Jim sat back in his chair; his eyes fixed on Jared. He said, “Your letters warmed my soul. More than that, learning all about you gave me room to make peace with what had been stolen from me-and be thankful for what I gained.”
Jared shook his head frantically. He didn't want Mr. Jim thinking he was some sort of messenger of the Lord. He was just a stupid kid who’d made stupid mistakes, and then poured his heart out to a stranger. Mr. Jim opened his mouth, and for one awful second he thought Mr. Jim was about to say the Lord works in mysterious ways, but he said, “My heart was sore that I couldn't respond, but I kept every single one of your letters like a close and secret wish, my very dear friend. Y'know, I never spoke of it to anyone, not even to Jenny. Then finally I was home, and here he is, sharing that he was in love with a wonderful person, that his fiancé also happened to be an amazing writer. When he gave me the book to read…Jared. I read those words and I knew.”
Jim laughed, throwing his head back. “By all saints, here was the person who helped me by reminding me that there was love and decency in the world. You've suffered, and won, and suffered again, but what a spirit, what a fine, unbroken spirit. I couldn't wish a better partner for Jensen."
Jared choked, emotion making it hard to speak. “I think you’ve got it backwards, Mr. Jim. “Without you, I think I would have sunk into my own sadness and never surfaced. You were the kind, listening ear I needed when I had no one, support when I felt no one else understood. Once, I would have said the Lord meant for us to meet, he meant for it to save both of us. But,” Jared smiled, “I’m rather more humble than that now, and think this was just a happy, happy accident.”
Jim smiled, winked, and said, “Then here’s to love and friendships, and very happy accidents.”
chapter 29