J2 AU | R | No Strings Could Secure You | Part Four

[dugindeep]

He’s rounding corners and crossing streets in the dead of night, thankful for the cover of darkness and for his long legs to take him where he needs to go. When he actually can get out to run for exercise, he takes a good six, seven miles at an easy pace. But here, he’s sprinting everywhere and even though it’s a shorter distance, it feels longer. All the fear of being followed, which he isn’t he notes whenever he tosses a glance behind him, is making this trip so much longer than he had anticipated. But the adrenaline pushes him to keep going when the muscles ache and his chest heaves. He just has to.

Jared doesn’t chance the front door because he’s afraid Jeff might finally catch up to him and spot him there. Instead, he runs down the gangway and knocks on a few windows as he passes, finally anxious with a fist at the back door. It’s constant but not all too loud to draw attention of neighbors. It feels like ages before there’s any sign, but soon enough a light pops up inside the house and he yanks the screen door open, knocking soundly on the wood door. It opens seconds later and Jensen’s bleary eyed and wiping a hand over his head. “What the fuck?”

He looks around to make sure no one sees them, and he pushes his way into the house, slamming the door and locking it. “I am so screwed,” he says simply in between heavy breaths.

Jensen watches Jared flip all the lights back down and he’s yanking the drapes closed on the windows in the kitchen. Following, he pulls on Jared’s arm for his attention. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jared’s hands wrap around Jensen’s biceps and he’s leaning in close, still just as frantic. He had hoped being some place that wasn’t his home, away from Jeff and the van, he would calm down and feel better. But it’s still freaking him out. “They were at my house. They planted something.”

His eyes drop and the eyebrows crease down. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t own anything. I brought everything back here. Besides, it was stuff I’d never even heard of.” Jared’s hands go up to his face and he’s covering himself, trying to hold everything in. “Damnit!”

“Okay, okay,” Jensen’s saying immediately and pulling on his arms and away from the windows. “Downstairs. We’ll go downstairs.” Jared doesn’t respond, but he lets Jensen lead him to the office and down through the hatch. Jensen locks it from the inside and keeps most of the lights off, just in case anyone gets in and sees cracks of light through the footboards. The room is lit by a lamp next to the couch and Jared’s sitting, cradling his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Jensen stands before him, leaning forward with hands going to his shoulders. “Hey, c’mon. Just calm down. You’re safe here. Alright?”

“No, no. Damnit,” Jared mutters, still covering his face. “I shouldn’t have come here. If they follow … if they find this, here.”

“Hey,” Jensen says firmly as he crouches before Jared and holds his face to look at him. “You came to the right place. Okay? They won’t find you here. They don’t even know we know each other.”

Jared frowns, his eyes watering. “Sandy. She told them. And she knows I’ve been coming here.”

Jensen’s own breathing catches and his eyes quickly flicker between Jared’s. He stands and turns away, hands balling into fists. “Jesus, Jared,” he grits out.

“I know, I know,” Jared mutters pathetically, hands to his face again.

In one movement, Jensen unearths the nearby cabinet’s surface, swiping bookends and compact discs across the room. “Fuck!”

Jared’s head picks up and he’s staring, frozen by the outburst. He’s never seen this kind of emotion from Jensen - not in person.

He throws hands out into the air but won’t look at him. The anger in his voice and the hard lines of his tense shoulders are enough to hurt Jared. “They’ll come here! They’ll come here and find this!”

Fingers press into Jared’s forehead, more tears build in his eyes and he can’t say a word. He knows. He so knows this and has no excuse for it. There’s nothing to make it better.

“I can’t believe this.” Jensen shoves a knee against the side of the cabinet and it rocks but falls back into place. His breathing is heavy and he’s still fuming, but when Jared still won’t respond, he turns and watches him. The breathing is loud and hard, but his voice steadies a bit. “How much does she know?”

He shrugs and more tears break loose. “I didn’t tell her how we met. I said you were a Proper.”

“She know my name?”

“Just your first name.”

He scoffs. “Kind of a unique one, huh?”

Jared tips his head back into his hands and the emotion is heard in the way his voice breaks. “Oh, fuck. I am so screwed.” He coughs through a sob, swallowing most of the sound, but it still echoes in the space.

With Jared’s freak out, something settles in Jensen’s chest and he sobers from being worried about himself for the moment. He’s suddenly more concerned with the guy in front of him panicking so much. He leans forward, hands settling at his neck to force him closer. “Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be fine. Okay? Just … just don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

His eyes watch Jensen’s and they’re so close and well-meaning, and Jared feels the comfort in Jensen’s confidence. He chuckles harshly. “That or you’re an even better actor than I thought.”

Jensen tips his forehead against Jared’s. “Maybe a little of both. Just trust me?”

It doesn’t matter how soothing Jensen’s voice gets, or what he says, because Jared still can’t accept he’s in this situation. Can’t accept Sandy told Jeff about it and he’s unnerved all over. His eyes are wet again and his lips crumble. “I can’t believe this. Jesus.”

“Hey, hey,” Jensen soothes, pushing himself closer, tighter into Jared’s space. His hands grasp the sides of Jared’s head and hold him steady. “I’ve trusted you this long. Let you in my house, in my life, in here. Give me the chance, okay? Trust me.”

Jared looks into Jensen’s eyes and sees the emotion and truth in there, how badly the guy wants to help him and be trusted right in this room. Something snaps and Jared’s eyes are tired and he’s still anxious, but then he’s leaning in closer and mumbling, “I do. I trust you.”

Jensen’s hand swipes down with care. “Okay,” he smiles back. His lips part like he’s going to say more, but then he’s closing the space between them with a comforting kiss, soft and plump lips to Jared’s, which lightly press back. Jensen’s open for a gentle sucking kiss and there’s heavy breathing between the two of them until Jared’s energy amps up and he grabs hold of Jensen’s head, tilting it and sucking right back. They both get anxious, the fear of the situation driving them, hands grabbing tight to the other’s face and forcing the kiss to be rougher than either really intends.

There are tongues swiping messily between their mouths and Jared’s moving back, pulling Jensen with him. He straddles Jared’s lap and uses the leverage to kiss down and hard into Jared’s mouth, holding his head still with fingers dragging at Jared’s hair. Jared’s hands swipe down Jensen’s torso, settle at his hips for a few quick moments, then finally grope his back, pulling him in tighter. And when he feels the chest against his own, gets the sensation of Jensen settling in close, and his mind finally rationalizes that he’s kissing Jensen, a fire burns in his belly and it rises. Up through his chest, into his throat, and then he’s moaning and making little hmm noises that Jensen swallows right up.

His mind works overtime through the whole thing, fighting against him. The fact that it’s Jensen, a man, crumbles in theory when he considers that it’s Jensen, and with all that they’ve shared these last few months, this doesn’t seem wrong. Jared’s not sure that it’s right, but in the moment, it’s a good thing and he needs it. The raw emotion and the power of Jensen’s strength, the weight of his body anchoring Jared, the warmth making him feel safe. It’s enough that he’s fueled further with desire and brings his hands back to Jensen’s hips to push himself up to Jensen. To feel that drag of hard body against his own, feel it rub against him as he gets hard. Jensen’s body reacts in kind, pushing down onto Jared and feeling his bulge through the jeans and against his own lounge pants. But then he’s slowing down, holding Jared’s face more carefully, and pulling back. “Jared,” he whispers as Jared leans back in to nip at his mouth. “Hey, hang on,” he cuts in, moving far enough back that they can easily see each other’s faces. Jared pulls once more on Jensen’s waist, dragging him closer. “Fuck,” Jensen murmurs when his own hard-on is caught against Jared’s stomach, pressure that won’t relent because Jared won’t let him move. His voice is rough and tight. “You even know what you’re doing?”

Jared’s drunk in this moment, off the heat between them and the thought that he’s been building this thing with Jensen for weeks and weeks, just turning himself over to the guy and catching all these crazy emotions with everything he’s watched. It’s strange here, and different, but he’s crackling with energy at the mixture of sensations he’s had all night - anxiety and fear from Jeff and his old co-workers, warmth and trust with Jensen, and now this, which he can’t even put a name to. His voice comes low and breaks, “Honestly, no.”

Jensen sighs and starts to move away, but Jared clamps down on him tight again, bringing him close. “Jared, you don’t even …”

He cuts in, pushing his mouth up to Jensen’s. “I want to be here. Right here.”

Another sigh, but Jensen is settling back down to Jared. “You don’t even know,” he murmurs, running a hand over Jared’s hair.

Jared’s hands grope his back again and he smiles gently, lightheaded with this moment and the softness of Jensen’s voice. “You don’t know. I’ve been obsessed with you in that damned show. Since the beginning.”

“What about San - ” And Jensen stops, sucking his lips back into his mouth to keep from saying more.

He reaches forward for a kiss, just because he wants it and he can take it. Then he says against Jensen’s mouth, “These movies, this place … you. Makes me feel alive. You have no idea.”

Jensen’s breathing is heavy and he nudges his nose next to Jared’s with his head solid against Jared. He shifts in the lap a little, but Jared’s hands are solid to keep him there. “I’m probably crushing you,” he mumbles lamely.

Jared’s mouth moves against Jensen’s cheek. “Look at me, I’m a monster. You’re not a problem.”

He softly laughs, but it sounds more like a sigh, and he’s still a little anxious in the moment. “You sure?”

When Jared can’t immediately answer, they both pull back and eye each other. It’s a long moment while they each hold warm looks and won’t move. Jared finally says, “I don’t have a job. Sandy left me over this stuff. My mom will likely disown me. And I’m on the run from the Propers. I’m not sure of anything right now.”

“Yeah, see,” Jensen mumbles as he shifts away.

Jared pulls him back again. “But you were the first place I knew to run to.” Jensen’s nod is small and slow, but Jared sees it. “That’s something.”

Jensen’s mouth breaks a small smile and he leans back in. “Alright, less talking, okay?”

Jared nods and he reaches forward to kiss him again.

*

“You still talk to your parents?” Jared quietly asks as he stares at his hand flexing against Jensen’s in the air between them.

Jensen’s head lolls over to look at him. His fingers bend between Jared’s and he looks back up at the ceiling. “Yeah. They retired and moved a few years ago, so I don’t see them much. But we call.”

“Where do they live now?”

“Austin.”

“Texas?” Jared asks, sounding interested.

Jensen smirks, “Is there another Austin?”

He smiles back, but then inhales sharply when he thinks about his grandparents. “My mom’s family came from San Antonio.”

“What about your dad? You’ve never mentioned him.”

Jared thinks about it, how he hasn’t said a word about the man since his death. Not even with his mother, who seemed to forget that part of her life ever existed. Then it hits him how this very moment in his life was part of an elaborate series of events that started with the man’s death. His voice struggles with the words. “He died … when I was younger. High school.”

Jensen’s hand squeezes at Jared’s and he says softly, “I’m sorry. What happened?”

He shakes his head, thinking more. He scoffs. “I don’t even know. My mom never said much about it.” There’s a long pause before Jared can manage his words. “I joined the agents when he died. To help her out. She always tells me he’d be proud of me for doing it, but I don’t think he would.”

“You get along with him?”

“As much as we could. He worked a lot.” Jared smiles suddenly. “I remember he used to argue with her over media. He didn’t think it was so bad.” His smile sets gently as does his voice. “I liked hearing someone stand up to her.” Jensen chuckles and Jared glances over. He feels light from the memories of his father defending movies. “They like what you do? Your parents?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I used to have them over to watch, just so they wouldn’t get caught with it. But now they buy everything and distribute it in their neighborhood. It’s like a fan club over there.” Jared looks over with confusion and Jensen smiles back. “Texas isn’t really as strict, especially their county. They have agents and everything, but they usually just go after the big ones. Like distributors or underground movie houses.”

Jared nods and sighs, liking the idea of leaving families alone. “Why don’t you live there? Where you aren’t such a high priority?”

He shrugs. “I’ve lived here for a long while now because there were more movies in this area a couple years ago. No matter where I go, I’d still build that basement. Why do it again?”

Shifting slightly, Jared watches him, thinking about all the concessions Jensen has to make so he can be happy with his job and what it’s like to have a parent’s support. He wonders what it would’ve been like to grow up that way, instead of having his mother’s control. “They’re not afraid for you? To be found out?”

Another shrug and Jensen easily responds, “I’m sure somehow, but they’ve never really said. Remember, they think art and media is a good thing.”

With a slightly harsh chuckle, Jared releases Jensen’s hand and scrubs his palms over his face. “The more you say, the more screwed up I feel.”

Jensen shifts in the bed, rising up on an elbow and looking down on Jared. He pulls at one of his wrists so he can see his face, so Jared can see his. “Hey, you’re not screwed up. You ask anyone else out there and I’m the weird one. And you lived what you were told. It’s not like you had the choice.”

Jared continues staring at the creamy ceiling, almost transporting himself to his childhood. “My grandpa used to tell me about all his favorite TV shows. He’d make them sound so fascinating that I’d always ask him about them, even when he’d already told me. I think I heard Gilligan’s Island a thousand times.” He smirks when he spots Jensen smiling down on him. Their fingers curl around each other again and he warms from within, his stomach bubbling up with the feeling. “I loved him for it. He made our visits so special and I was always begging my mom to go visit him. But she’d always rush me away from him and tell me that it was wrong. From day one, I was told media was so bad for me. Even when he made it so fun.”

“You don’t talk much about him.” Jared looks over and Jensen gives him a comforting smile. “Just that he showed you Star Wars. You don’t see him because of your mom?”

He swallows and looks up, nearly reliving the day his grandfather was buried and how crushed he felt in that moment. His voice is quiet. “He died when I was twelve. Last time I really thought about media.” Jared sighs and goes on. “Either way, she wouldn’t let me go by him because he’d try to show me stuff. He’d have to come by us, but she still thought he was poisoning my mind or something.”

“I think I did that well enough.”

He smirks at Jensen and feels comfort in this moment. In Jensen’s bed, so close to him, physically and emotionally. And while, yes, seeking out Jensen months ago was the first step to this downfall, Jared’s grateful for it. “God,” he sighs with a bit of humor. “My mom would hate you if she knew what you did to me.”

Jensen laughs, bats his chest, and rises to get dressed. “Some coffee?”

He stretches and feels muscles stretching with a burn and joints popping together. Surprisingly, it’s a good kind of ache - tells him he’s still feeling things in his life, and he all but forgets his situation. He just smiles at Jensen and nods while turning over to grab his clothes off the floor when Jensen heads to the kitchen. Alone in the room, Jared finally checks his phone and finds quite a few missed calls and text messages. Chad and Jeff are the most common with a combination of pleas and threats -to talk to them, turn himself in, make it easier on yourself, on your family, they say. His mother is frantic, complaining that the Propers had been at her house asking about him and why he’s not answering his phone, Where in Sam’s Hell are you? Stop hiding and tell me what trouble you’ve gotten into.

Jared can make due with ignoring them, but it’s Sandy’s soft, worried voice that gets to him. “My word, Jared. I don’t even know what’s going on. Jeff keeps coming to my mom’s and they’re insisting we’re keeping you. That we know where you are. What is going on? Please call me. Tell me you’re okay.”

He stares at the phone, unable to properly identify his feelings. She sounds nervous and truly scared for him, but he’s burnt with the knowledge that she called Jeff. That her phone call turned this into a witch hunt and now he’s holed up in Jensen’s house with no chance to leave until things are safe - and who on earth knows when that will be? If it ever will be? He calls her, expecting her to be at work and figuring to leave a voicemail.

She is at work, but she answers anyway. “Oh, Jesus, hang on,” she murmurs quietly. Seconds later she’s back and he can tell there’s less noise and an echo on her end; she’s hiding in a storage closet to talk to him. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he mumbles.

Sandy rushes on, “Where are you at? Jesus, Jeff keeps calling and asking about you. We’re all worried.”

He chuckles harshly and shakes his head while staring down at his bare feet on Jensen’s hardwood floor. The boards feel cool to his skin and he pats his toes down on it, just to give himself something to look at while he does this with her. He takes a heavy breath to steady himself, but still sounds angry. “You’re worried? So worried you snitched.”

“What? No. I asked him to talk to you. I was scared for you, for what you were doing.”

“Sandy,” he huffs. “His job is to arrest people for media. You turned me in.”

“No, no,” she murmurs back. “He’s your friend. I just asked him to help you.”

It hits him that she truly thought she was helping, and it makes his anger lessen and melt into guilt that feels heavy in the pit of his stomach. Because in the end, he did this to himself. His behavior scared her, she went to who she thought could help, and now here he is. Wanted. “You told him I watched media. He’s an agent. What did you think he’d do?”

Her voice rises with emotion. “No, I was just trying … Gosh, I thought he would just talk to you about it. Not anything more.”

Jared huffs back, “Well, he did more.”

“Jared, please. Where are you? The Propers have been at my mom’s three times to check everything. She’s crying nonstop that they’re going to take us in. I went to the house and everything’s tore up.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes then down his face. “They planted movies at the house. I had to leave.”

“Who did?”

“Jake? Jeff? I don’t know, but they came to search and found discs in your dresser.”

There’s a long pause and she whispers, “In mine?”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. Hearing it affect her isn’t making this any easier. “Yeah. I had never even heard of the movies. They weren’t mine.”

“Oh, Jared,” she wonders. “What’re you going to do about it?”

His voice rises with anger and anxiety, because he really has no clue. “What can I do? They’re going to take me in for sure now. Just for running.”

“Why did you even run away? It makes you look guilty.”

“They were going to take me in,” he stresses. “The minute they said that, I was guilty. The second they even came to the house they thought I was guilty.” They’re both quiet as the statements settle in their minds. He can hear her deep breathing and startled noises as she tries to work out a response. Jared finally says, “I am guilty of watching it. But I never owned anything.”

Sandy sobers and asks firmly, “Jared, where are you? You need to go to someone for help.”

It’s in this moment that Jensen reappears in the doorway, hesitantly watching Jared’s end of the conversation. He mouths you okay? and Jared nods. He says into the phone. “I did go somewhere.”

“What about a lawyer? Or that Proper friend of yours, Jensen? Can anyone get you out of this?”

He gently smiles at the name, and then up at Jensen. “I don’t know about that. But I’m fine.”

“Where are you? Let me come help you.”

Jared’s shocked by the sincerity in Sandy’s voice, and right there guilt scours his body as he considers that he’s in Jensen’s house, in this safe haven of a home. And in the early morning hours, they crossed lines and Jared fell into Jensen’s life with full trust and confidence. Even with Sandy moving out, her note gave hope that she’d come back. He feels like he’s crossed her. But he thinks about that call to Jeff and how she betrayed him. It still aches to know he’s essentially severed their relationship by being with Jensen, but he feels justified somehow.

“Jared, please,” Sandy pleads quietly. “You don’t have to do this alone. Please. Come to my mom’s, we’ll help you.”

He looks at Jensen, holds his face with his stare and he feels safe right here. “I can’t do that.” She continues worrying, pleading, and offering so many options to help. She’ll meet him somewhere quiet, he can meet her at work, she’ll come to him, wherever he is. He finally interrupts firmly, “Sandy, no. I’m fine. Just … Jesus,” he huffs, feeling the bitterness build back up. He stares back at his feet, shaking his head. “You … your call got me in this. You have to understand why I can’t let you help me.”

“It was one phone call,” she murmurs with pain in her voice.

As much as he hates saying it, the words tumble out easily. “It was the wrong call.”

“I didn’t mean … I didn’t think it - ”

Jared cuts her off, “I know you didn’t. But you did. Just let me figure this out on my own.”

“Do you have any plan?”

He looks up to Jensen, but the doorway is empty and his heart beats irregularly. His voice gets sharp, “Just don’t worry about it anymore. I have to go.” Hanging up, he makes his way to the kitchen where Jensen is standing before the coffee maker and drinking a cup. Jared plants palms into the counter so he can lean beside Jensen.

“Everything okay?” Jensen asks quietly and steady.

His voice is tired, but it also sounds nonchalant. “She thought it would help. To call my boss.”

Jensen murmurs at his mug, “Doesn’t look like it helped.”

He flips an eyebrow and frowns. “I know. Can I have a cup?”

Silently, Jensen grabs one from the cupboard and pours. He passes it with an odd look. “You didn’t tell her you were here, right?” Jared shoots him a quick look and drinks from the mug while staring back over the rim. “What if she makes another call … to help?”

Jared can hear the silent quotes around that word and it stings. He knows that it’s Sandy’s fault, but he’s not sure he wants to know that Jensen sees it that way, too. “It was a mistake.”

“She could make another one.”

“She won’t.”

Jensen takes a steadying breath and looks into his near-empty mug. “You sure?”

His voice is nervous, on the edge, because he’s feeling this way under Jensen’s inquiries. “I didn’t tell her I was here.”

“Shit,” he whispers and finishes off his coffee and puts the cup on the counter. Jensen stares down on it and says quietly, “I’m sorry. I just … it’s not just you right now. It’s me, too, you know?” He looks back up to Jared with a worried glance. “They find you here and we’re both in trouble.”

Jared nods, his eyes dropping low with pain. “Yeah. Right.” One quick breath and he looks back to Jensen. “I’m sorry. I just … I forgot that.” A hand comes up to squeeze at Jensen’s shoulder then it skates down his arm. “I’m sorry. I should leave,” and he turns to the bedroom.

Jensen finds him gathering his hoodie, socks, and shoes, pulling everything back on quickly and silently. He asks quietly, “Where’re you gonna go?”

His eyes stay down as he yanks a shoe on. “I don’t know. Maybe my mom’s.”

“She’ll turn you in.”

He stops with the other shoe in his hand and angrily taps his foot to the ground. “Can you even imagine?” he grumbles. “Turning in your own kid?”

Jensen moves forward, grabbing Jared’s shoe and tossing it onto the bed. “I don’t want you to leave.” His hands ease at Jared’s shoulders with comfort. “I just want to be smart about what we’re doing here.” Jared sadly glances up, eyes already wet. “Let’s just be aware of the situation, yeah?”

He nods and mumbles, “Yeah. Alright.”

Jensen’s hands hold Jared’s face and he continues gently. “You ran and they’re coming after you. But they come here? I’ve got a basement big enough to send me away for the rest of my life. That’s the facts.”

Jared’s head tips down, chin to his chest with hair falling into his face. It hides the tears tracking his cheeks and the way his breathing gets hard, pushing his chest out. Jensen sits beside him, pulling an arm around his shoulders and bringing him close. Jared wraps his arms around him and tries to steady his breathing. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

He shifts so they can look at each other and asks gently, with a smile, “Why do you have to keep crying and saying that?”

Jared can just barely detect the emotion under Jensen’s voice, like he’s trying really hard to make things light, like he’s acting right here. And Jared wonders how much of Jensen’s strength in the last twelve hours has been real or created to comfort Jared. But he tells himself it shouldn’t matter, because it absolutely has helped. “I’d say I’m sorry for that, but I get the feeling that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear again.” Jensen smirks at the weak tone to Jared’s words, sounding so pathetic. The voice gets a little stronger. “I just … I don’t know. It feels harder. In the day now? I don’t know why.”

Jensen nods, because it’s been more than obvious that Jared has been more anxious since the sun came up, since they’ve been up on the main floor. “Let’s watch something downstairs. Just hole down there and forget about it for a while.”

“Yeah?”

The corner of his mouth picks up. “That’s the beauty of the movies. They make you forget about your own problems.”

*

They settle in the couch, Jared escaping in the world of the Star Wars trilogy as Jensen sets them up to finish up the three original movies. Jensen smarts, “These are the only ones that count. You’re not missing anything with the other three.”

“What’re those ones about?”

Jensen pushes himself deeper into the cushions and closer to Jared. “How Darth Vader became Darth Vader.”

His voice goes soft, but it’s also full of wonder. “Really? Why can’t we watch those? Why wouldn’t we watch those first?”

“Because they suck,” he answers simply. “Trust me on that.”

Jared grumbles and drops jokes later in the evening that he bets the original three would seem better if he knew the background story. Jensen mostly ignores him and shows him a few episodes from TV comedies that he grew up on. Cheers, Cosby Show, and The Simpsons. Jared howls his laughter at so much when he’s not watching Jensen laugh. He realizes how the energy fills the room with warmth. Can’t remember ever feeling this giddy and comfortable, and he loves it. He feels lightheaded, in a good way, and lets the excitement carry them both into the wee hours of the next morning as they marathon sitcom after sitcom.

When his eyes are droopy and his laughter has withered into tiny snorts, Jensen shuts everything down and leads them back up to the bedroom. There, they lean into each other, nuzzling sleepily before Jared leans down and kisses Jensen’s forehead. “Thank you so much,” he murmurs.

Jensen holds his jaw, positions it so he can reach up and press against Jared’s mouth. “No, you.”

He tips his forehead to Jensen’s. “You’re keeping me safe. What did I ever do?”

They’re kissing again and Jensen nudges Jared to his back. He lifts up to his elbows to watch him with careful eyes. He speaks softly and steady. “You make it worth it.”

Jared’s hands settle at Jensen’s back. “Harboring a fugitive?”

“No,” he chuckles. “Having the movies, experiencing them.”

“You had all that anyway.”

With a deep breath, Jensen answers honestly. “They mean more when you can share them. Watching you have these for the first time is just as good as when I first saw them.” Jared’s quiet, can’t even form a proper response. He just stares back. “Some of them, they get better each time you watch. You haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet,” he smirks.

Jared nods and feels everything build in his chest like he can’t breathe. “I can’t wait to do that.”

*

In the afternoon, Jensen makes sandwiches and they watch more. Jared can’t manage to overdose on it, just keeps piling it all into his brain, all these emotions. The laughter and the tears have equal impacts within and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s all fresh and sharp and he asks for more. It carries on for hours, Jared never tiring for a second, but Jensen asks for reprieve, a short breather to stretch their legs and see a bit of daylight before it’s gone for the day.

They settle for a bit in the kitchen, grabbing snacks and beer, talking more about themselves, about their pasts and absolutely avoiding the future. The questions of what comes next, what Jared’s plans are to get out of this because they both know he can’t stay there forever, are never heard. But Jared’s still anxious with it. He can’t wash the same outfit constantly, never leaving the house for fresh items because they fear he’ll be spotted. There will come a time soon enough that he’ll need to breathe clean air, feel the sun on his face.

In the bathroom, he splashes water and examines his face. He feels different on the inside, for sure. But it’s the same tan face staring right back. Nothing’s changed outside; he’s still Jared. Inside, however, everything is new, reborn in this new world he’s found with Jensen. And he’s suddenly smiling, and that’s new. His cheeks are tight with the movement and that’s new.

The doorbell sounds and he immediately steps to the hallway, hiding just behind the kitchen wall and listening to Jensen at the door. He can’t make out much, randomly hears Jensen saying, “No, I’m sorry. Don’t know.” Jared hears the door shut and he turns into the kitchen, catching a glance down the hallway to see Jensen walking towards him and shrugging. “Wrong house.”

The bell goes again and Jared’s eyes pop, his mouth twists. “That ain’t a wrong house.”

Jensen frowns and stops in his place. It rings once more, echoing in the space between them with a dark tone. He takes a deep, visible breath and steels his shoulders. “Go downstairs.”

“Jensen,” he hushes to stop him, but Jensen’s already moving back to the door. It’s then that Jared hears Jeff’s voice.

“You mind if we come in?”

Jared tucks himself back behind the wall, flat against it and eyes closing in prayer.

“You mind my knowing what the problem is?” Jensen asks.

“We’ve had reports of criminal activity in the area. Just want to discuss your neighbors.”

He turns quickly, rushing to the office and prepared to hide down the hatch. But he hears the voices clearer and closer. He sneaks a peak down the hallway and realizes Jensen’s let them into the house. His heart is wild, his lungs unable to handle air. Of course he’s let them in. He can’t fight it without drawing more attention, but Jared can’t concentrate on that. He’s trying to focus on the best plan of action. The smartest thing to do right now. But he’s absolutely clueless to it.

“Your name’s Jensen, right?” Jeff’s saying and Jensen’s answering that it is. “You know a Jared Padalecki?”

His mind is screaming so many different things. The fact that they found him, that the hatch is open, that they’re both going to jail. It’s racing with so many ideas, but none of them seem to be the right one. Walk out to the front room, give himself up. Create a fuss so Jeff is distracted enough that Jensen can escape. Lock himself downstairs. He can’t find anything that’s one hundred percent foolproof, and that fact makes him panic, tears appearing in seconds.

Jared rushes back to the office, closing the hatch, locking it down with the nearby set of keys. He nudges a nearby bookcase over, the edge blocking the crack in the floorboards. He pulls the area rug a few inches to cover the lock. Seconds later, he’s popping a window open, using the desk for leverage, and hauling himself outside. The setting sun does nothing for him, except point the direction he wants to run, and he’s off.

*

He’s run clear across town, collapsing in the forest that edges itself between the neighboring city. He pulls out his cell phone, contemplates calling Jensen, explaining that he ran to protect him. That Jensen will be safe now, as long as they don’t find the basement. He can forget Jared, he can go back to his life and carry on because Jared complicates it. But the notion burns ugly in his stomach. All the emotions he’s built up for Jensen, the respect, the trust, the love … he can’t leave any of them behind, doesn’t want to. But the love he holds for the man reminds him of the need to shield him from further consequences. Jared’s already set Jensen too close to the law in hiding there. He had to leave.

Beneath the tire of his running, anxiety of his emotions, and the crash of his adrenaline, he blacks out in the brush.

*

The sun streams between the trees, warming Jared’s face, and he finally wakes. It takes a few seconds to remember what happened and why, and he’s tearing up instantly. Immediately, he calls Jensen’s home but gets no answer. He waits ten minutes and tries again. And five minutes later. Still no one will pick up.

He dials Sandy, against his better judgment but in line with his fear. He rushes over her worried voice, “Sandy, what’s going on? What’s happened?”

“Jared! Where are you! My … oh, Jared,” she rambles on.

There is no easy way to go about this while keeping himself and Jensen out of as much trouble as possible. His mind reels with the possible questions and statements to stay clean and he finally cuts her off. “I heard something happened to Jensen. What happened?”

“They went looking for you. I heard there was nothing there.”

“Why did they go there?” he snaps.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell Jeff about him … I just …”

His voice hardens even more. “Then how’d they know, Sandy?”

“Chad told them.”

“How in the hell would he know?!”

“Sophia,” she answers miserably, and continues on like she’s found her part in the whole thing again. “I’d mentioned him a few times to Sophia. Just that you were spending time there. She told Chad.”

“Jesus Christ, Sandy!” he yells. “You’re digging my grave!”

Sandy whimpers, obviously scared of his anger. “I didn’t mean to. I am so sorry, you have no idea.”

“You have no idea. This whole mess, Jesus. I don’t even know … I can’t get out of this. And Jensen now.”

“But if he didn’t do anything, they’ll let him go, right?”

That room flashes in his mind, the rows and rows of movie cases. The cabinet full of compact discs. All the TV work Jensen’s done. Jensen wouldn’t see the light of day.

She asks carefully, “Jared? Were you watching with him? Is that it?”

His breathing finally steadies, as does his tone. “Sandy, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you answer the questions. You don’t seem to be helping me when I tell you anything.”

“Jared, I’m sorry,” she nearly wails. “I haven’t meant to do any of this. I was just trying to help you.”

“Well, you didn’t then. But try to now, okay?” He sighs and hears her mmhmm whimper. “Okay. They took Jensen in, right?”

“Yeah, they did.”

“They take anything from his house?”

“I don’t know. Sophia said that they’re keeping him, waiting for you.”

“Jesus,” Jared whispers, feeling a sharp dagger in his heart. He can’t manage to think straight right here, can’t work his mouth to ask any more of her. He shuts the phone and hunches over his bent knees, cradling them and rocking as he cries.

*

It’s taken him at least twenty-four hours for this decision. He’s watched the sun set then rise and set again. The darkness echoed the pit inside him, the emptiness he felt in being stuck in the forest while Jensen was being held in detention.

His entrance is willingly, as in he’s decided to be at the station, but it’s grudgingly. His hand’s been forced to this, to keep Jensen safe. The agent at the front counter reacts immediately, like he knows Jared has been Suspect One this entire time, and he’s reaching for the phone, calling Jeff down. Jared swallows thickly, barely managing to keep his heart and breathing in check. The second Jeff rounds the corner, with Jake a step behind him, moisture builds and his hands shake. He wipes his palms on his forest-dusted jeans and clears his throat. “You’ve got me. Let him go.”

Jeff’s face is steady, but surprisingly, the eyes are soft. As if he realizes the way Jared feels here, how important his plea is. He reaches an arm out and nods. “Come with us.”

The surprise isn’t in the two men walking alongside him as if to keep him from running again. It’s in going to the station room, instead of the Propers Area. Jeff insists Jared settle at his old cot and offers him a mug of coffee. He doesn’t want to take it, but his mouth is parched from the hours spent thirsty and starving in the forest. Quietly, he thanks him and sips, waiting for Jeff to say something.

“You okay?”

Jared chances a look at him and mumbles, “Yeah.”

“Looks like you need a clean-up. Some fresh clothes?”

“I’m fine.”

Jeff makes a hmm sound and just watches him drink.

Jared is through the whole cup and stares down to the bottom while asking quietly, “So what happens?”

The cot in front of him squeaks as Jeff sits and rests his elbows to his knees. He leans forward, closing the space between them. “You want good news or bad news?”

Jared grumbles, “I want you to stop screwing around.” He looks up to Jeff’s surprised glare. “This isn’t a joke.”

The voice comes gruff and pushy. “No, son, it ain’t. You ran. You were on the run for four days.”

“Not much of a choice. I was set up.”

Jeff scratches at his beard then looks down to his hands as they clasp together. “Here’s the thing. You ran. For four days. And we know you watched media. As an Agent - ”

“I quit,” he says immediately on reflex.

With an eerie calmness, Jeff goes on. “As an Agent of the Freeze, you are obligated to report the possession of media.”

“Those movies weren’t mine,” Jared argues.

But it’s like he doesn’t have a voice in this discussion and his old boss continues speaking. “You are responsible for reporting those that you know to possess and share media. You are responsible for upholding the law justly and to mind those around you to do the same.” He eyes Jared, watches him take a deep breath and look away. “Now, from where I sit, you did none of those things. You possessed media. You watched it. You partook in the sharing of media.”

Jared looks at him. He stresses himself with a hard voice, “I didn’t own anything.”

“Did you, at any time, have media in your home?”

He holds his breath, but won’t speak.

“Now, in your home, we found a handful of discs. They were discovered in your girlfriend’s dresser, correct?”

Looking away, Jared grumbles, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

He turns back to Jeff and presses on, “Not my girlfriend. She left.”

Jeff pauses, as if reordering his thoughts. “They were discovered in Sandy’s dresser. In your bedroom.”

Jared remains silent, stubbornly refusing to be party to the conversation.

Even when Jeff pushes, “Right? The discs were in your room? In her dresser.”

He still won’t look over.

It forces Jeff to lean closer and talk lower. “Jared.”

“I didn’t put them there.”

“I know.”

His head snaps up, eyes searching Jeff’s. Then he’s looking to Jake and he can’t detect a single thing in either of their gazes. They’re watching him just as intently, waiting for a response. “Wait.”

“I know they’re not yours.”

“Wait,” he breathes, “What?”

“They were Sandy’s.”

Jared suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t manage to look away. All of this trouble, him running to Jensen, hiding, putting Jensen in trouble, it was all because Sandy had media. Sandy, who called Jeff on him, who kept begging to meet him and help, who he’d loved for four years of his life and shared a home with.

“She admitted she’d forgotten about them. Someone gave them to her a year or so ago. And she hid them right away so you wouldn’t find them. Then just,” Jeff shrugs oddly, “forgot about it.”

“Impossible,” he mumbles.

Jeff leans back, his palms rubbing at his knees. “So, the thing is … you ran and evaded agents, which is a punishable offense.” Jared’s mind runs quickly and he’s pretty sure it’s not a short term either. But he won’t say anything, he wants Jeff to lay it all out before he gets himself into more trouble. “Not a light sentence either. But you scratch our back, we scratch yours.”

When Jeff doesn’t say more and just watches expectantly, Jared clears his throat. “What do you want?”

“Your contact.”

He thinks immediately of Jensen and there is absolutely no situation that he can think of that would be bad enough for him to say the man’s name. And then he thinks of Jensen. If he says a single thing about their relationship the man will be in detention for the rest of his life, all the movies burnt in his front lawn, and the family that will never see him again. It aches deep in his chest then crackles down his back. He can’t and he won’t. His silence says so.

“Jared. You can avoid jail time if you just say the name. We’re taking your flawless record as an agent into account, and as a friend of mine, I’m trying to help you here. But you gotta help us.”

Jared clears his throat to allow the questions through, ones that wind through his mind. “Where’s Sandy now?”

“She’s in detention.”

“How long?”

“A year.”

He sighs and looks away, with tears burning in his eyes. But he keeps them in and asks quietly, “Is that permanent?”

Jeff looks to his hands, opens them carefully, and turns back to Jared with a small smile. “You help us, we can do something there.”

“Where’s Jensen?”

The man nods slowly, keeping a strong gaze with him. “He’s in Proper for the time being. Aiding and abetting a criminal.”

Jared curses and closes his eyes.

“You hide anything over there?”

His head pops up, imagining the basement and all it held. “No, I didn’t hide anything,” he answers honestly. “Why?”

“We did a preliminary sweep after we brought him in. You tell us if something’s there and we won’t have to deal with an official search. Won’t have to put him out any more than he already is.”

Jared’s mind races at the possibility. So entirely thankful that they didn’t find anything yet, but he fears the basement being discovered.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“You’re sorry, what?”

“I can’t,” he mumbles. “Can’t give it up.”

Jeff scoots forward, his voice going easy. “Jared, you realize you’re going to jail, too. You and Sandy. Jensen will get some time, too. You can avoid that by telling us.”

He feels miserable with the situation and he’s pretty certain that there’s no good answer here, that he can’t help everyone. But he tries his best to do what’s right, because while he thinks Sandy doesn’t deserve time for having a few discs someone else gave her, he knows he can’t deal with the shame of giving up Jensen. “He didn’t do anything. Let him go.”

“Excuse me?”

Jared’s emotional and he presses on, praying his lies aren’t found. “Jensen. I was only there for a little while. I left long before he could do anything to help.”

“Jared,” Jeff nearly whispers. “You’re going to save Jensen?”

Tears break down his face and he nods. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” In Jared’s mind, he did everything right.

*

Jared spends a painful three months in prison, mostly solitary as Jeff does his best to give him a break and not be part of the general population. A Media Agent housed with hundreds of men who were busted for possessing the very item is a dangerous situation. He’s thankful for Jeff’s work behind the scenes to make it happen, but he’s still miserable. The thought of Sandy in jail, too, builds guilt he’s never known before. But the other side … to rat out Jensen … was more offensive to him and he refused to do it.

Not seeing Jensen, not knowing what’s going on and if a permanent seizure was done at his house kills him deep inside and he’s emotionless the whole time. His only reprieve of depression is writing Jensen letters every day. They detail all the stories they’d shared on that TV in the basement. He doesn’t mention anything by title, but he crafts his tales as if it was something they experienced together, each character sounding like a friend. As he relives those plots and shows, he relives his time with Jensen and how much they shared. What the man meant to him, the trust they gave to each other without question, and the love that bloomed in those final days.

None of his letters are answered, and a month in, they start to come back. Return to Sender. The seventh letter of that month has an unknown handwriting, no resident by that name. His heart sinks.

His mother visits, doing her best to pretend all is well and that there is nothing abnormal with the situation. Her tone of voice remains the same as she talks about what she does with her days, meeting with the cornerfolk and sharing the good news of government and travel. She tells him how Sandy is doing, and it’s alarming how easily she avoids mentioning where Sandy is, but still tells stories about how she’s still smiling and still getting by without Jared. But then he remembers how easily his mother removed his father from her vocabulary. Obviously, she’s unable to deal with real trauma and actually discuss it. He lets it go, just thankful his time is short and that she even bothers to see him.

When he receives the letter noting that Jensen’s name is unknown at his address, he asks her to check the house and find out what happened. At the most desperate of situations, he asks her to check with the cornerfolk in his neighborhood. Two days later, she returns with no real news. The cornerfolk saw Agents and Propers at the house days after Jared went in. The very next a moving crew had carted everything from the house.

He cries that night, and every one after to think that Jensen was still arrested. The house has been unearthed of everything Jensen brought to his life, of their memories and time together. He wonders if he’ll run into Jensen inside, even for the final five weeks of his sentence. But his mother later tells him that word on the corner is his things were shipped out of town, that he was not being held in this center.

When Jared finally gets out, he’s alarmed there’re no burn marks on Jensen's lawn, no melted plastic or chips of discs coursing the land. He checks the back lot and finds it much the same way he saw it the night he ran out the back window. When he looks inside windows, he sees the same color on the walls but nothing else. The house is completely empty, void of any life. He edges open the same window he’d escaped from and tries to ignore the irony in breaking the law with this window yet again. He roams the house and there is nothing. He wonders if the Agents and Propers decided to destroy the media elsewhere, if they moved Jensen’s things immediately because of how much he possessed.

The office seems smaller now, without any life in it, and the hatch is obvious to him. He’s not sure if it’s the absence of anything else in the room or just what it means to him. Jared drops down into the space and it’s dark, dank, hollow. It’s disturbingly quiet compared to the laughter that filled this room his last day here. He runs fingers against the wall as he pictures the posters on the wall for so many movies he never had the chance to experience.

It’s when he gets halfway through the room that he sees it. Tucked into the bottom ledge of the shelves are five cases. Ones Jared knows with his eyes closed. Supernatural.

He kneels in front of them, spreads them out on the floor and stares at Jensen. The smooth face and the hard edge of his jaw. The depth of his eyes and crest of his hair. It burns, so deep it does, but he has to realize that with this motion, these discs, there’s a message that Jensen is safe. He got out, moved all his things before anyone got to him, and he left this behind for Jared.

*

The next day, he has half his house packed up - the important pieces anyway. He can’t stay here anymore. Not in this town, where everyone knows his business. They all know he wouldn't give up Jensen for Sandy, who is still in jail for another nine months. His mother pretends nothing’s wrong, but once in a while, he sees her judgment, her disappointment. He gets the house set for sale and moves himself into a low-cost motel two towns over, an area out of Jeff’s jurisdiction. The hotel smells in all the wrong ways and the colors are gruesome, but he knows no one of any respect stays in this place, and half the time they’re there for a one-hour rental with the latest affair. He doesn’t judge, though, because he’s there with his affair, watching Supernatural all day and night on his laptop as he remembers everything good about Jensen and all the smiles they shared, the hugs, how safe he felt in his bed and within his kisses.

With calculated research and misinformation over the phone, he talks a not-too-bright government employee into giving him Jensen’s parents’ home address, but the phone number is unavailable in this age of cell phones. Jared writes letters, not quite daily, but he’s pushing it. He asks where Jensen is, how he’s doing, if they’ll tell Jensen he asks of him. Those, too, go unanswered.

It doesn’t deter him. He still spreads word of what his plans are as he waits for his house to be sold so he can use that money to relocate properly. He writes about every detail Jensen told him about his family, how his mom used to bake oatmeal cookies, alternating tiny chunks of apples with coconut depending on Jensen’s behavior. That his father took him to his first audition and stayed on set during his first job. How he took Mackenzie to the dollar theater every Sunday night while they were away at school. He tells them that every photo in Jensen’s living room featured one of the Ackles, and there were a few more sprinkled throughout the house.

He tells them of the impact Jensen had on his life, opening his eyes to real emotions, to real friendship, and absolute love. That he aches to see him again, but he knows Jensen is doing what’s right, that he’s escaped the battleground and will never make himself known again. Jared tells them that he loves their son, that he doesn’t regret a moment he spent with Jensen, won’t ever forget him. Then he begs their forgiveness for the whole situation.

Once the house is sold, he sets half of the earnings in Sandy’s name. He writes her a letter with the details and his own apology for not giving in to Jeff and helping to lessen her sentence. He tells her that media opened his eyes to the way life should be lived - with color and heart and laughter. And he needs to find that again, and he’s sorry it isn’t with her. But he also forgives her for her mistakes, and lets her know he understands how it happened.

With his half of the money, Jared takes the first train out of town, splurging for a private cab. He wants the long trip to afford him time to completely memorize every moment of Jensen in Supernatural because it’s all that he has. He makes plans to locate an underground supplier and find anything else Jensen’s ever been in, and commit those to memory as well. It’s secondhand memories, but he’s thankful there’s the option, because living with Jensen completely removed is unthinkable.

He’s nervous but excited to move, to go somewhere he won’t be watched or sought out. Jensen’s tales of Austin being freer, of the people sharing what they had and encouraging the appreciation hit him just so and he longs to have that. He has no idea what he’ll do for work, but he knows it'll come. He doesn’t know where he’ll live, but he’ll figure it out. The most important step at this point in his life is to get out of town and go where he knows everything will be easier.

The Amtrak empties its passengers and Jared’s struggling with the few bags he brought. There aren’t many, but they’re heavy. He ambles down the platform, allowing elders and families with children before him. A young couple pushing a stroller gives grateful smiles and the wife sweetly thanks him. He beams in return, realizing that he can finally enjoy seeing families together and will never again tear them apart.

Jared shuffles through the train station, eyeing signs to lead him out to the main streets and he bumps into people the whole way, and he gives his expressive apologies, but he’s smiling the whole time. Because he got out, and this is the beginning of everything his life could ever be. He knocks once more and his grin and apology eases the businessman, but a hand is pulling at his other shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says as he turns, but it stops there. His lips stall and he’s staring, not able to form words because right there is Jensen and Jensen’s hand is going to Jared’s neck, trying to pull him in. Jared releases every single strap wrapped around his arms and crushes the man against him. “Holy shit,” he whispers into Jensen’s neck.

The arms are tight, so tight that Jared’s not sure he can breathe, but it feels wonderful. Jensen suffocating him and touching him, and just being right there. There are no words, none at all. There are questions, so many of them, but he doesn’t want to bother with that. He just holds him tighter. One of Jensen’s hands cups the back of his head, holding him even closer. His voice is unsteady, emotional. “I didn’t think you were ever gonna come.”

He wraps his arms tighter, not wanting any bit of air between their bodies. He relishes the push of his chest against Jensen’s as they’re both still breathing so heavily. Moments tick by and he longs to see Jensen’s face, to see the smile. Jared pulls back and holds his face. His thumbs wipe moisture away from Jensen’s eyes. “God, you’re still … you’re you.”

Jensen’s palm touches Jared’s cheek then it skates down his chest and settles at his hip, fingers curling into his shirt. “How the fuck long it take you to get here?” he grits out angrily.

Jared laughs, the noise loud and bright. He hasn’t heard it since he last saw Jensen, but it’s still exhilarating. “I had to sell the house. And how in the hell’m I to know you’re waiting? You didn’t answer a single letter. Jesus,” he adds on with a huff that covers the break of elation at seeing Jensen. “I wrote all the time. I wrote your parents. No one said a word.”

His hands hold Jared’s face again, keeping their eyes on each other. “You think I could answer? I ran out of town before I could be labeled a criminal.”

“Yeah. Right,” he murmurs, not even knowing what to say.

Jensen leads him close and he inhales sharply. His eyes are wet and won’t move from Jared’s, no matter how close they are. “I read them. All the ones you sent my parents.”

Jared stares, unable to place the right words together. This moment is deafening and overwhelming. He doesn’t want to leave Jensen’s space and won’t, but he’s not sure how much longer he can be under his heady gaze.

“There’s nothing to be forgiven for. You did nothing wrong.”

He still lacks the proper response, but he loves Jensen that much more for saying exactly what he needed to hear.

*

Jensen drives them to his new home, one block from his parents. He chuckles as they walk up, “They’re certainly glad to have me back around.”

“They’re not tired of you yet?” Jared smirks.

He eyes Jared with a biting smile. “Look who’s the funny man now.”

They share the load of Jared’s things, carrying them inside. This place, this space, is so much more what Jared sees as Jensen. It’s warm and earthy, comfortable and, best of all, well-lived. Pictures still fill the walls but the living room is packed with welcoming furniture and it looks like he actually spends time here if the slightly stained coasters and yesterday’s newspaper are any indication. Jensen mumbles, “Mama comes by every few days.”

“That’s cute,” Jared smiles then presses his hand into Jensen’s as they discover the home for the first time together. The back room, which looks more like a family’s den, is still the perfect space for a downstairs entrance, but this isn’t the hatch and it’s not so guarded. There’re still floorboards to lift, but the ladder is replaced by carpeted stairs and the space runs the length of the house, instead of just one room. Jared’s awed by the depth and is seconds from commenting on it when Jensen insists Jared must be hungry and they head upstairs to eat and relax.

Jared roams the house once more while Jensen gets things together. He settles a few of his bags so they’re not just randomly lying around and he can remember which holds what of his things. It’s comforting to know that they’ll all have a place here.

Jensen finds Jared in the basement. He sets the tray of food and drinks down, moves closer,and smirks.

He’s pushing the cases into place just after The Simpsons discs and before Three’s Company, aware of Jensen behind him, but not saying a word.

Jensen hovers and rests his chin at Jared’s shoulder with palms comforting his sides. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m good.”

Soundtrack and Notes