Demigods and Heroes - SPN RPS
Title: Demigods and Heroes
Author: laceandgrace
Fandom: SPN RPS
Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 559
Rating: PG-13; mild sexual references
Author’s Note: Beta'd by Jolene, my lovely. Read through by Joolz (woodstarling), my cupcake. Not a lot of people write about Jared and Jensen as old men, and this is just kind of how I think of them in that stage of their life.
The wrinkles on Jensen’s skin tell their story.
He’s been familiar with them for a long time. The way they crack and soften certain parts of Jensen. And the way they toughen and dry other parts. Jensen’s touch on the tender skin of his wrists catches easier now with the roughness of fingertips that have known a life’s worth of working. It’s true that they could have both had harder lives. But life in and of itself steals something from the body that can’t be given back. Pain and joy don’t come without a cost, and they’ve certainly had their share of both.
The longer they’re together, Jared realizes it’s about both. For better and for worse wasn’t just something that was said with no meaning. It’s not just about the shadows in the valley and the mountaintops in the sun. It’s about the sweetness of life mingling with the grief. The beauty of both wrecking them to the point of brokenness in each other’s arms.
They’ve found a new glory in the weakness of each other. The way that they were designed to be complimentary. It’s times like those that Jared remembers Jensen whispering, This is why we were brought here. God was thinking of me when he made you.
I feel old, he whispers sometimes in the darkness, when he can no longer see blonde hair mostly taken over by streaks of silver pressing against his cheek. Skin stirs beside him - something long familiar to the both of them - and Jensen whispers, You feel good. You feel really good. Gentle, dry fingers skate over parts of him that he can’t flaunt so much anymore. Hollywood ages its devotees kindly, but not so kindly that they can claim status as perfect immortals.
Not even heroes or demigods really. But they worship each other, and that’s enough for both of them.
Passion has long abandoned them to love. It comes to visit them every so often, but on the whole it’s a rare companion. Jared doesn’t mind so much. Sometimes the slanting glances in Jensen’s green eyes are far more intimate and vulnerable than skin on skin. Arching muscles and heads thrown back against pillows are familiar and comfortable now. He knows them well and has it down to a predictable art. But the light…
The light in Jensen’s eyes when he says I love you still makes something hot and sharp shoot down his spine. The tone of his voice when he scolds Jared for forgetting to take his blood pressure medicine makes him feel guilty and treasured all in the same thrust of words. The way the gold band on his finger digs into his skin when Jensen squeezes his hand still feels fresh and new.
It’s why the passion is so strong when it does come to visit. It’s why he catches himself in the breathless mantra of Jensen’s name, fingers holding onto shoulders and back arching up off the bed in a desperate attempt to feel more, drink more, be more than this. I want you, I want this, Please, Jen, please.
I’ve got you, Jensen whispers, words kissed into each worn curve of his skin until he’s burning just like the first time. Just like this is all so new again. Haven’t I always got you?
The ache in his bones tells their story.
^^^
Comments. Ysplz?
Author: laceandgrace
Fandom: SPN RPS
Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 559
Rating: PG-13; mild sexual references
Author’s Note: Beta'd by Jolene, my lovely. Read through by Joolz (woodstarling), my cupcake. Not a lot of people write about Jared and Jensen as old men, and this is just kind of how I think of them in that stage of their life.
The wrinkles on Jensen’s skin tell their story.
He’s been familiar with them for a long time. The way they crack and soften certain parts of Jensen. And the way they toughen and dry other parts. Jensen’s touch on the tender skin of his wrists catches easier now with the roughness of fingertips that have known a life’s worth of working. It’s true that they could have both had harder lives. But life in and of itself steals something from the body that can’t be given back. Pain and joy don’t come without a cost, and they’ve certainly had their share of both.
The longer they’re together, Jared realizes it’s about both. For better and for worse wasn’t just something that was said with no meaning. It’s not just about the shadows in the valley and the mountaintops in the sun. It’s about the sweetness of life mingling with the grief. The beauty of both wrecking them to the point of brokenness in each other’s arms.
They’ve found a new glory in the weakness of each other. The way that they were designed to be complimentary. It’s times like those that Jared remembers Jensen whispering, This is why we were brought here. God was thinking of me when he made you.
I feel old, he whispers sometimes in the darkness, when he can no longer see blonde hair mostly taken over by streaks of silver pressing against his cheek. Skin stirs beside him - something long familiar to the both of them - and Jensen whispers, You feel good. You feel really good. Gentle, dry fingers skate over parts of him that he can’t flaunt so much anymore. Hollywood ages its devotees kindly, but not so kindly that they can claim status as perfect immortals.
Not even heroes or demigods really. But they worship each other, and that’s enough for both of them.
Passion has long abandoned them to love. It comes to visit them every so often, but on the whole it’s a rare companion. Jared doesn’t mind so much. Sometimes the slanting glances in Jensen’s green eyes are far more intimate and vulnerable than skin on skin. Arching muscles and heads thrown back against pillows are familiar and comfortable now. He knows them well and has it down to a predictable art. But the light…
The light in Jensen’s eyes when he says I love you still makes something hot and sharp shoot down his spine. The tone of his voice when he scolds Jared for forgetting to take his blood pressure medicine makes him feel guilty and treasured all in the same thrust of words. The way the gold band on his finger digs into his skin when Jensen squeezes his hand still feels fresh and new.
It’s why the passion is so strong when it does come to visit. It’s why he catches himself in the breathless mantra of Jensen’s name, fingers holding onto shoulders and back arching up off the bed in a desperate attempt to feel more, drink more, be more than this. I want you, I want this, Please, Jen, please.
I’ve got you, Jensen whispers, words kissed into each worn curve of his skin until he’s burning just like the first time. Just like this is all so new again. Haven’t I always got you?
The ache in his bones tells their story.
^^^
Comments. Ysplz?