All We've Ever Needed
All We've Ever Needed
kelios
Summary:
The best laid plans of mice and men.
The look on Jared’s face doesn’t leave Jensen’s mind on Saturday. He’s not stupid; he knows how hard the last few years have been on Jared. He knows how desperately Jared wants to be free--wants them both to be free. And he knows that Jared understands his fear of cutting their safety net loose and freefalling until something else catches them, and that Jared will never force him into something he’s not ready for.
So he feels like warmed over shit for what happened Friday night, for leading Jared on, for his obvious, inescapable relief Saturday morning when they found out that their lives hadn’t been turned upside down. His guilt is compounded by the fact that the video is still sitting on his phone, burning a hole in his mind.
Saturday passes mindlessly, alternately dragging and blurring as he watches Jared stumble through the motions of living. Jared had had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand by the time Jensen came back out of the bathroom to clean them up, eyes empty and blank. Shut down. A thrill of terror runs through Jensen every time he thinks about it, about what that look means, but Jared insists he’s fine and that they follow through with their plans for the day.
Jensen isn’t the only one who notices that Jared seems off. His friend Jordan pulls Jensen aside, wants to know if the kids are alright, about Jared’s dad. He knows better than to ask about anyone else, for which Jensen is grateful. Jensen reassures him late night, hungover, a little worried, yeah and Jordan seems satisfied. Clif scowls at them both from the background, eyeing the bottle Jared had brought with him as the level drops over the course of 18 holes.
The worst part is, Jensen hadn’t been lying Friday night. He’d wanted to post that video, had been prepared to deal with the fallout. He doesn’t show it as much, but it’s slowly killing him to deny what Jared means to him day after day, to live a constant lie. He’s always been damn good at compartmentalization, but twelve years of constant stress and lies will eat away at the best walls, and Jensen’s have gotten paper thin.
They finally reach the 18th hole. Jared doesn’t even get out of the cart, just waves Jensen on. Jensen sinks the ball and finishes the game three under par, but he doesn’t care at that point; all that matters is getting Jared back to the hotel and into bed. Maybe with a little food if he can get Jared to eat--not always the easiest task, despite his size.
Jared is surprisingly docile on the way back to the hotel, let’s Jensen manhandle him into the elevator and up to the room. He doesn’t object when Jensen pours a bottle of water down his throat, relaxes into Jensen’s warmth as Jensen holds him upright in the shower and drags him over to the bed. It’s not until his head hits the pillow and Jensen settles back against the headboard next to him that the dam breaks.
“‘M sorry, Jen,” he whispers, voice choked and broken. “I shouldn’t have--I didn’t mean--”
“Shh,” Jensen soothes, stroking his hair. Jared shifts until his head rests on Jensen’s thigh, pushing up into Jensen’s hand, and Jensen can’t help smiling because some things never change and Jared loves it’s Jensen’s hands in his hair. “You didn’t do anything. I’m not angry.” His throat closes around the word, but he forces it out anyway. “I’m not disappointed.”
Jared shudders minutely at the word, a few tears soaking into Jensen’s jeans. He doesn’t speak again, drops off just like that, head cradled in Jensen’s lap, one hand clutching Jensen’s knee. Jensen doesn’t move, doesn’t try to ease away. He pets Jared’s hair endlessly, staring into space as thoughts and images and fears tumble aimlessly through his mind until finally he picks up his phone and dials a number.
Keeping secrets is hard. Jensen knows that--he’s been doing it for decades, after all. But keeping secrets from Jared...Jared knows, of course, even though he tries to hide that he knows, which leads to Jensen trying to hide that he knows that Jared knows. By the time the Saturday Night Special concert rolls around, Jensen’s head and heart both ache, but he smiles and laughs anyway, and it’s not even entirely forced. Jared plays along, seemingly back to his old self again and playing his role terrifyingly well, to the point that even Jensen has to wonder if maybe he was wrong. Neither of them drink anything stronger than diet Coke, and Jared makes one of his rare appearances at the concert to the delight of the fans. Overall, it’s as good a night as he’s going to get after Friday. They fall into bed after the concert, exhausted as much from emotional turmoil as the short night and long day, and Jared wraps himself around Jensen like he’s afraid he’ll disappear in the night if he lets go.
When they wake up Sunday morning, it’s like Saturday never happened. Jared blows Jensen in the shower, looking up at him with eyes so full of devotion that Jensen barely lasts more than a minute, going off like a teenager as soon as Jared starts working him open. Jared pulls off with a grin, then puts his mouth to even better use, rimming Jensen senseless and hard again before fucking him slow and easy as the water flows around them.
Once they’re finished--when neither of them could get hard again if they tried--Jensen digs through the clothes he’d packed for them, enjoying the sparkle in Jared’s eyes as he sees what Jensen picked out. Jared always loves when Jensen matches or coordinates them, even that tiny acknowledgement of what they are enough to put a smile on his face. Jensen’s glad he went for obvious this time, matching the color of his jeans to the thickest line of plaid in Jared’s overshirt, and even moreso when he tosses a new scarf onto the bed with a hint of a smirk. He’d sent a picture of his own shirt to the concierge the evening before and the woman at the desk had gotten him exactly what he’d asked for. Jared’s smile grows even more when he sees the coordinated watches they’d bought in Australia a few months ago laid out on the counter for last, and it eases the hurt in Jensen’s heart to see it.
“I love you,” Jared says once they’re dressed, pulling Jensen close. “No matter what, no matter how long it takes. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Jensen says just as quietly. “And I’m sorry for what happened Friday night. Jay...I wanted to do it. I was ready for it to be done and over, I swear. I wouldn’t lead you on like that on purpose.”
“I’m sorry I made you think that,” Jared says, eyes dimming slightly. “It just...It hit me hard. I’m good now, though. Promise.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Jensen says, kissing him lightly and adjusting his scarf. Jared laughs a little ruefully.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us with this one,” he says, grinning a little. “And you’ve no one to blame but yourself.”
Jensen smirks back. “Oh, it’s all gonna work out,” he promises, and he thinks he gave the whole thing away when Jared looks at him quizzically, curiosity filling his eyes. He’s saved by Clif’s sharp rap at the door, and there’s no time after that, one fan after another after another until they’re finally on stage in front of everyone. Jensen’s feeling a little giddy, dizzy with fear and want and determination. No one had asked about the deleted video in his or Jared’s meet and greet, which means he’s going to have to do the work himself this time. He’s grateful, in a way, because even if it’s not organic at least he’s got some control.
Jared runs through his usual pre-game ritual--who’s new, who’s here for the first time, everyone excited for the new season--but when he turns to take the first fan question, Jensen stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Hold up a second, Sasquatch,” he jokes, and Jared looks at him in mild confusion. “We’re gonna do something a little different this time around.” He peers out into the audience, then over at the media booth. “Hey guys, can you pull up my twitter feed on the screen?” In moments the last pic he’d tweeted takes over the screen, which then splits to show Jared’s puzzled face and Jensen’s widening smile.
“So. How many of you guys saw that video Jared and I posted last night?”
The audience explodes into cheers and whoops, but Jensen’s just looking at Jared’s face as it slowly turns pink.
“Well, as it happens, what we did wasn’t actually a bad thing at all--”
“Jen--” Jared’s voice is low and urgent, away from the mike so that only Jensen can hear. Jensen leans in close, bringing his own mic up as he does so.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this.”
Jensen feels his whisper, barely audible, hit the audience like a shockwave. Jared’s clutching his shoulder, wet warmth from the sudden sweat on his palms bleeding through Jensen’s t-shirt as he hitches in a breath. There’s not a sound from the audience as Jensen pulls out his phone and taps a few buttons. Even before the video appears on the screen next to their faces, there are gasps and actual screamsfrom the fans as those clever enough to pull up Instagram see what he’d posted seconds before it posts on Twitter.
Jensen stands, pulling a shellshocked Jared up with him, tucking himself under Jared’s arm and against his side. Tears slowly spill over Jared’s cheeks as their words from the night before--we fell in love--contribute to the sudden cacophony as the fans erupt into screams and howls. They go on for several minutes, despite Jensen’s raised hands and calls for quiet, finally Jensen drops into his Dean voice and shouts into the mic.
That gets everyone’s attention. The room falls quiet--well, quiet-ish, anyway--and Jensen’s surprised to see and hear that some of the fans are actually crying.
“I know you guys must have a lot of questions about me and Jared and our family,” Jensen says loudly, pleased to emphasize the singular word. “But that’s not what we’re here for today. Today, we’re here because we all love Sam and Dean and the show that brought us all together. So let’s focus on that, okay?”
One look at Jared’s face makes it clear that they’re going to need a few minutes before they start answering questions. Jensen takes his hand and tugs him toward the back of the stage, then stops in surprise when Jared doesn’t move. He raises his eyebrows and Jared shakes his head subtly, pulling Jensen back against him.
“So y’all guys have probably figured out that I wasn’t really expecting Jensen to do this today,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips. The fans cheer happily, drowning him out for a long moment before he can continue. “And I’m going to second Jensen’s request that we all focus on a couple of brothers we all know and love. But I can’t let this moment pass without saying something.” He turns to Jensen with a fond smile. “I love this asshole,” he says, and pulls Jensen into a kiss that only lasts a second but seems to go on forever as the fans scream themselves into a hoarse frenzy.
They only have time for a couple of questions. The first fan bursts into tears as soon as she gets the mic, struggling to get the words to her question out. A volunteer steps up and they whisper together for a moment before the volunteer speaks into the mic, a question about whether or not Sam and Dean will search for Mary in the upcoming season. It’s an easy question, one they’ve answered before, so it doesn’t matter as much that Jensen can barely form words because Jared’s arm is resting warm and heavy around his shoulders, his long fingers absently stroking his arm. The rest of the questions are similar, softball lobs from an obviously shocked audience, and by unspoken agreement they forego the last question when the entirety of the cast and crew present boil out onto stage to hug them both.
Richard makes a speech about love, Rob and the band play sappy love songs, someone puts a guitar in Jared’s hands. They’re way off schedule, but Jensen couldn’t care less because Jared can’t stop smiling and it’s lighting up the room better than any floodlight. When they finally leave the stage the surge of screams and applause goes on for what feels like an eternity, only cut down to a bearable level by the heavy utility door that Jared drags Jensen through.
“You...you bastard,” he says finally, when he can tear his lips away from Jensen’s. “I hate you. I love you. I--”
“You’re stuck with me,” Jensen interrupts, grinning wildly. “No getting out of it now, that’s for damn sure.”
Jared scoffs. “As if I’d want to. But Jensen...nothing’s changed. This is going to turn everything upside down. Why did you do it?”
“It was time,” Jensen says simply, softly. “I made a few calls, put a few things in motion. Even if they cancel the show, even if we never work in Hollywood again...we’re gonna be alright, Jay. I promise.”
“And the rest of it? You know what might happen.”
Jensen takes Jared’s face in his hands, pulls him down until their foreheads are touching and the tears threatening to spill over again are shining like jewels in his view. “We’re gonna be alright. And in the end? The only thing that matters, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is that we’re together. Right?”
Jared smiles, tremulous but so perfect it makes Jensen’s heart ache in the best way he can imagine. “Right.”
kelios
Summary:
The best laid plans of mice and men.
The look on Jared’s face doesn’t leave Jensen’s mind on Saturday. He’s not stupid; he knows how hard the last few years have been on Jared. He knows how desperately Jared wants to be free--wants them both to be free. And he knows that Jared understands his fear of cutting their safety net loose and freefalling until something else catches them, and that Jared will never force him into something he’s not ready for.
So he feels like warmed over shit for what happened Friday night, for leading Jared on, for his obvious, inescapable relief Saturday morning when they found out that their lives hadn’t been turned upside down. His guilt is compounded by the fact that the video is still sitting on his phone, burning a hole in his mind.
Saturday passes mindlessly, alternately dragging and blurring as he watches Jared stumble through the motions of living. Jared had had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand by the time Jensen came back out of the bathroom to clean them up, eyes empty and blank. Shut down. A thrill of terror runs through Jensen every time he thinks about it, about what that look means, but Jared insists he’s fine and that they follow through with their plans for the day.
Jensen isn’t the only one who notices that Jared seems off. His friend Jordan pulls Jensen aside, wants to know if the kids are alright, about Jared’s dad. He knows better than to ask about anyone else, for which Jensen is grateful. Jensen reassures him late night, hungover, a little worried, yeah and Jordan seems satisfied. Clif scowls at them both from the background, eyeing the bottle Jared had brought with him as the level drops over the course of 18 holes.
The worst part is, Jensen hadn’t been lying Friday night. He’d wanted to post that video, had been prepared to deal with the fallout. He doesn’t show it as much, but it’s slowly killing him to deny what Jared means to him day after day, to live a constant lie. He’s always been damn good at compartmentalization, but twelve years of constant stress and lies will eat away at the best walls, and Jensen’s have gotten paper thin.
They finally reach the 18th hole. Jared doesn’t even get out of the cart, just waves Jensen on. Jensen sinks the ball and finishes the game three under par, but he doesn’t care at that point; all that matters is getting Jared back to the hotel and into bed. Maybe with a little food if he can get Jared to eat--not always the easiest task, despite his size.
Jared is surprisingly docile on the way back to the hotel, let’s Jensen manhandle him into the elevator and up to the room. He doesn’t object when Jensen pours a bottle of water down his throat, relaxes into Jensen’s warmth as Jensen holds him upright in the shower and drags him over to the bed. It’s not until his head hits the pillow and Jensen settles back against the headboard next to him that the dam breaks.
“‘M sorry, Jen,” he whispers, voice choked and broken. “I shouldn’t have--I didn’t mean--”
“Shh,” Jensen soothes, stroking his hair. Jared shifts until his head rests on Jensen’s thigh, pushing up into Jensen’s hand, and Jensen can’t help smiling because some things never change and Jared loves it’s Jensen’s hands in his hair. “You didn’t do anything. I’m not angry.” His throat closes around the word, but he forces it out anyway. “I’m not disappointed.”
Jared shudders minutely at the word, a few tears soaking into Jensen’s jeans. He doesn’t speak again, drops off just like that, head cradled in Jensen’s lap, one hand clutching Jensen’s knee. Jensen doesn’t move, doesn’t try to ease away. He pets Jared’s hair endlessly, staring into space as thoughts and images and fears tumble aimlessly through his mind until finally he picks up his phone and dials a number.
Keeping secrets is hard. Jensen knows that--he’s been doing it for decades, after all. But keeping secrets from Jared...Jared knows, of course, even though he tries to hide that he knows, which leads to Jensen trying to hide that he knows that Jared knows. By the time the Saturday Night Special concert rolls around, Jensen’s head and heart both ache, but he smiles and laughs anyway, and it’s not even entirely forced. Jared plays along, seemingly back to his old self again and playing his role terrifyingly well, to the point that even Jensen has to wonder if maybe he was wrong. Neither of them drink anything stronger than diet Coke, and Jared makes one of his rare appearances at the concert to the delight of the fans. Overall, it’s as good a night as he’s going to get after Friday. They fall into bed after the concert, exhausted as much from emotional turmoil as the short night and long day, and Jared wraps himself around Jensen like he’s afraid he’ll disappear in the night if he lets go.
When they wake up Sunday morning, it’s like Saturday never happened. Jared blows Jensen in the shower, looking up at him with eyes so full of devotion that Jensen barely lasts more than a minute, going off like a teenager as soon as Jared starts working him open. Jared pulls off with a grin, then puts his mouth to even better use, rimming Jensen senseless and hard again before fucking him slow and easy as the water flows around them.
Once they’re finished--when neither of them could get hard again if they tried--Jensen digs through the clothes he’d packed for them, enjoying the sparkle in Jared’s eyes as he sees what Jensen picked out. Jared always loves when Jensen matches or coordinates them, even that tiny acknowledgement of what they are enough to put a smile on his face. Jensen’s glad he went for obvious this time, matching the color of his jeans to the thickest line of plaid in Jared’s overshirt, and even moreso when he tosses a new scarf onto the bed with a hint of a smirk. He’d sent a picture of his own shirt to the concierge the evening before and the woman at the desk had gotten him exactly what he’d asked for. Jared’s smile grows even more when he sees the coordinated watches they’d bought in Australia a few months ago laid out on the counter for last, and it eases the hurt in Jensen’s heart to see it.
“I love you,” Jared says once they’re dressed, pulling Jensen close. “No matter what, no matter how long it takes. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Jensen says just as quietly. “And I’m sorry for what happened Friday night. Jay...I wanted to do it. I was ready for it to be done and over, I swear. I wouldn’t lead you on like that on purpose.”
“I’m sorry I made you think that,” Jared says, eyes dimming slightly. “It just...It hit me hard. I’m good now, though. Promise.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Jensen says, kissing him lightly and adjusting his scarf. Jared laughs a little ruefully.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us with this one,” he says, grinning a little. “And you’ve no one to blame but yourself.”
Jensen smirks back. “Oh, it’s all gonna work out,” he promises, and he thinks he gave the whole thing away when Jared looks at him quizzically, curiosity filling his eyes. He’s saved by Clif’s sharp rap at the door, and there’s no time after that, one fan after another after another until they’re finally on stage in front of everyone. Jensen’s feeling a little giddy, dizzy with fear and want and determination. No one had asked about the deleted video in his or Jared’s meet and greet, which means he’s going to have to do the work himself this time. He’s grateful, in a way, because even if it’s not organic at least he’s got some control.
Jared runs through his usual pre-game ritual--who’s new, who’s here for the first time, everyone excited for the new season--but when he turns to take the first fan question, Jensen stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Hold up a second, Sasquatch,” he jokes, and Jared looks at him in mild confusion. “We’re gonna do something a little different this time around.” He peers out into the audience, then over at the media booth. “Hey guys, can you pull up my twitter feed on the screen?” In moments the last pic he’d tweeted takes over the screen, which then splits to show Jared’s puzzled face and Jensen’s widening smile.
“So. How many of you guys saw that video Jared and I posted last night?”
The audience explodes into cheers and whoops, but Jensen’s just looking at Jared’s face as it slowly turns pink.
“Well, as it happens, what we did wasn’t actually a bad thing at all--”
“Jen--” Jared’s voice is low and urgent, away from the mike so that only Jensen can hear. Jensen leans in close, bringing his own mic up as he does so.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this.”
Jensen feels his whisper, barely audible, hit the audience like a shockwave. Jared’s clutching his shoulder, wet warmth from the sudden sweat on his palms bleeding through Jensen’s t-shirt as he hitches in a breath. There’s not a sound from the audience as Jensen pulls out his phone and taps a few buttons. Even before the video appears on the screen next to their faces, there are gasps and actual screamsfrom the fans as those clever enough to pull up Instagram see what he’d posted seconds before it posts on Twitter.
Jensen stands, pulling a shellshocked Jared up with him, tucking himself under Jared’s arm and against his side. Tears slowly spill over Jared’s cheeks as their words from the night before--we fell in love--contribute to the sudden cacophony as the fans erupt into screams and howls. They go on for several minutes, despite Jensen’s raised hands and calls for quiet, finally Jensen drops into his Dean voice and shouts into the mic.
That gets everyone’s attention. The room falls quiet--well, quiet-ish, anyway--and Jensen’s surprised to see and hear that some of the fans are actually crying.
“I know you guys must have a lot of questions about me and Jared and our family,” Jensen says loudly, pleased to emphasize the singular word. “But that’s not what we’re here for today. Today, we’re here because we all love Sam and Dean and the show that brought us all together. So let’s focus on that, okay?”
One look at Jared’s face makes it clear that they’re going to need a few minutes before they start answering questions. Jensen takes his hand and tugs him toward the back of the stage, then stops in surprise when Jared doesn’t move. He raises his eyebrows and Jared shakes his head subtly, pulling Jensen back against him.
“So y’all guys have probably figured out that I wasn’t really expecting Jensen to do this today,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips. The fans cheer happily, drowning him out for a long moment before he can continue. “And I’m going to second Jensen’s request that we all focus on a couple of brothers we all know and love. But I can’t let this moment pass without saying something.” He turns to Jensen with a fond smile. “I love this asshole,” he says, and pulls Jensen into a kiss that only lasts a second but seems to go on forever as the fans scream themselves into a hoarse frenzy.
They only have time for a couple of questions. The first fan bursts into tears as soon as she gets the mic, struggling to get the words to her question out. A volunteer steps up and they whisper together for a moment before the volunteer speaks into the mic, a question about whether or not Sam and Dean will search for Mary in the upcoming season. It’s an easy question, one they’ve answered before, so it doesn’t matter as much that Jensen can barely form words because Jared’s arm is resting warm and heavy around his shoulders, his long fingers absently stroking his arm. The rest of the questions are similar, softball lobs from an obviously shocked audience, and by unspoken agreement they forego the last question when the entirety of the cast and crew present boil out onto stage to hug them both.
Richard makes a speech about love, Rob and the band play sappy love songs, someone puts a guitar in Jared’s hands. They’re way off schedule, but Jensen couldn’t care less because Jared can’t stop smiling and it’s lighting up the room better than any floodlight. When they finally leave the stage the surge of screams and applause goes on for what feels like an eternity, only cut down to a bearable level by the heavy utility door that Jared drags Jensen through.
“You...you bastard,” he says finally, when he can tear his lips away from Jensen’s. “I hate you. I love you. I--”
“You’re stuck with me,” Jensen interrupts, grinning wildly. “No getting out of it now, that’s for damn sure.”
Jared scoffs. “As if I’d want to. But Jensen...nothing’s changed. This is going to turn everything upside down. Why did you do it?”
“It was time,” Jensen says simply, softly. “I made a few calls, put a few things in motion. Even if they cancel the show, even if we never work in Hollywood again...we’re gonna be alright, Jay. I promise.”
“And the rest of it? You know what might happen.”
Jensen takes Jared’s face in his hands, pulls him down until their foreheads are touching and the tears threatening to spill over again are shining like jewels in his view. “We’re gonna be alright. And in the end? The only thing that matters, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is that we’re together. Right?”
Jared smiles, tremulous but so perfect it makes Jensen’s heart ache in the best way he can imagine. “Right.”