Sleeping with the Ghost of You and Me
Title: Sleeping with the Ghost of You and Me
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 634
Disclaimer: I can only fantasize that this is really going on. Alas, it's not. Unless it is, and if so, I want photographic evidence, dammit!
Summary: Jensen sleeps alone since Jared left.
A/N 1: Major angst ahead but NOT a death!fic.
Jensen sleeps alone since Jared left.
If he ever actually sleeps, anyway.
He could say it’s like losing a limb or not getting enough air to breathe or missing the best part of himself. There are a million pretty ways of describing pain, but it never captures just how much it hurts.
It’s the silence he notices at first, that convinces him Jared’s really gone. No dogs barking or whining for walks or growling while they play flight. No Jared filling the room with laughter and warmth just by being in it.
He never meant to fall for Jared, never meant for friends to become lovers to become something he can’t ever explain, never meant to get so consumed by him to the point of not knowing how to go on without him.
During the day, he copes better. He has work and friends to distract him, keep him going, stop him from wallowing and brooding. They tell him, “It’ll get better,” and he’d like to believe them, but it hasn’t happened yet. At night, though, that’s when he loses it, aimlessly wandering around the empty and silent house with nothing but memories to sustain him.
He tries to sleep, but the bed, their bed, feels too big, too cold and lonely. He lies awake, staring at the ceiling or the bitter and distant light of the stars, wondering if Jared sees them from where he is. He sleeps clutching a hoodie Jared left behind like a security blanket, face pressed to the soft fabric where the scent of Jared’s aftershave lingers. He thinks of the dogs, briefly contemplates adopting a kitten or puppy, something that’ll snuggle up to him and maybe keep him warm. Jared always radiates heat like a furnace, and he misses that, misses how safe and loved he felt with Jared wrapped around him.
He’s not alone, though, not really. There’s a…presence in the house, the ghost of Jared, the ghost of Jared and him, haunting the shadows. It’s especially bad in the living room, where this all started, and in their bedroom, where it all ended. He can’t bring himself to change the sheets. They still smell like the last time Jared fucked him. Or he fucked Jared. He doesn’t remember, and it doesn’t matter. It’s been weeks, but the slick slide of skin on skin, the moans and gasps, the look of ecstasy on Jared’s face when he finally lets go still invade his dreams.
Tonight is no different. He hovers on the edges of sleep, Jared’s hoodie and his knees tucked against his chest. He hears a thump downstairs, but he always hears noises, holding onto the false hope that Jared will come back, will see his mistake and come home. He ignores it and is mostly unconscious when he hears it again, an insistent knocking on the door. He stumbles downstairs and opens the door to a Jared that looks as bad as he feels.
“Jared?”
He stares, wonders if he’s dreaming or hallucinating, inventing what he so desperately longs for. Swallowing, Jared glances up and shuffles forward awkwardly.
“I miss you,” Jared murmurs, reaching out with a badly shaking hand to caress down the side of Jensen’s face.
He closes his eyes and sways. Jared feels real, and, God, he never thought he’d be in this place again. Hoped, yes, but never really believed. He turns his head to press a whisper-soft kiss to Jared’s palm. Jared shudders, gasping out a pained breath, and finally steps all the way in the house. Jared trembles against him, and he knows there’s no easy fix for what they did and said, but it’s a start. He feels Jared’s heart beating sure under his hand, feels the tension slip off his shoulders, feels everything slide back into place.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 634
Disclaimer: I can only fantasize that this is really going on. Alas, it's not. Unless it is, and if so, I want photographic evidence, dammit!
Summary: Jensen sleeps alone since Jared left.
A/N 1: Major angst ahead but NOT a death!fic.
Jensen sleeps alone since Jared left.
If he ever actually sleeps, anyway.
He could say it’s like losing a limb or not getting enough air to breathe or missing the best part of himself. There are a million pretty ways of describing pain, but it never captures just how much it hurts.
It’s the silence he notices at first, that convinces him Jared’s really gone. No dogs barking or whining for walks or growling while they play flight. No Jared filling the room with laughter and warmth just by being in it.
He never meant to fall for Jared, never meant for friends to become lovers to become something he can’t ever explain, never meant to get so consumed by him to the point of not knowing how to go on without him.
During the day, he copes better. He has work and friends to distract him, keep him going, stop him from wallowing and brooding. They tell him, “It’ll get better,” and he’d like to believe them, but it hasn’t happened yet. At night, though, that’s when he loses it, aimlessly wandering around the empty and silent house with nothing but memories to sustain him.
He tries to sleep, but the bed, their bed, feels too big, too cold and lonely. He lies awake, staring at the ceiling or the bitter and distant light of the stars, wondering if Jared sees them from where he is. He sleeps clutching a hoodie Jared left behind like a security blanket, face pressed to the soft fabric where the scent of Jared’s aftershave lingers. He thinks of the dogs, briefly contemplates adopting a kitten or puppy, something that’ll snuggle up to him and maybe keep him warm. Jared always radiates heat like a furnace, and he misses that, misses how safe and loved he felt with Jared wrapped around him.
He’s not alone, though, not really. There’s a…presence in the house, the ghost of Jared, the ghost of Jared and him, haunting the shadows. It’s especially bad in the living room, where this all started, and in their bedroom, where it all ended. He can’t bring himself to change the sheets. They still smell like the last time Jared fucked him. Or he fucked Jared. He doesn’t remember, and it doesn’t matter. It’s been weeks, but the slick slide of skin on skin, the moans and gasps, the look of ecstasy on Jared’s face when he finally lets go still invade his dreams.
Tonight is no different. He hovers on the edges of sleep, Jared’s hoodie and his knees tucked against his chest. He hears a thump downstairs, but he always hears noises, holding onto the false hope that Jared will come back, will see his mistake and come home. He ignores it and is mostly unconscious when he hears it again, an insistent knocking on the door. He stumbles downstairs and opens the door to a Jared that looks as bad as he feels.
“Jared?”
He stares, wonders if he’s dreaming or hallucinating, inventing what he so desperately longs for. Swallowing, Jared glances up and shuffles forward awkwardly.
“I miss you,” Jared murmurs, reaching out with a badly shaking hand to caress down the side of Jensen’s face.
He closes his eyes and sways. Jared feels real, and, God, he never thought he’d be in this place again. Hoped, yes, but never really believed. He turns his head to press a whisper-soft kiss to Jared’s palm. Jared shudders, gasping out a pained breath, and finally steps all the way in the house. Jared trembles against him, and he knows there’s no easy fix for what they did and said, but it’s a start. He feels Jared’s heart beating sure under his hand, feels the tension slip off his shoulders, feels everything slide back into place.