Fic - Same Old Stars (AU J2 Winter Olympics)
Title: Same Old Stars
Summary: AU J2. Jared will always be a winner in Jensen's eyes.
Rating: PG13
Genre/Pairing: AU J2. Winter Olympics.
Warnings: Unbeat'd, and this is based purely on knowledge from watching ski jumping on the TV, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes!
Word Count: 900+
Disclaimer: This is not real, I'm just casting characters in a fic. I'm not making a profit, and this is just for fun. All the standard disclaimers apply.
A/N: A little gift ficlet for harrigan who has been craving AUJ2 winter Olympic fic! I hope you enjoy this, my friend ♥
Same Old Stars
At the top of the ski jump run, Jared's gaze is fixed on Jensen, and Jensen alone.
Sometimes Jensen forgets that they've only known each other for a little over three years. When they first met, Jensen had just announced his retirement from ski jumping after taking home his first and only Olympic medal, and Jared, a relative newcomer to the sport, had begged, pleaded, and pretty much stalked Jensen until he finally agreed to coach Jared, and to get him to the next winter Olympics.
And now, here they are. Behind his gold goggles, Jared's eyes are full of possibility and excitement, because he's got nothing to lose, and that was always the game plan. Jared's still young, and this is his first Olympics; there's no pressure for him to medal, or any expectation for him to do well. Jared can afford to enjoy this; to relax, and just jump the way Jensen's seen him do in training.
That's all Jensen expects from Jared.
It's all so different to Jensen's last memory of being at the winter Olympics four years ago. Back then, it was his last shot to get an Olympic gold medal and everyone knew it. Old injuries were taking their toll on his body, and younger jumpers were coming through the ranks every year; he wouldn't get another shot. Jensen was thrilled to medal, but his coach wasn't happy with the bronze Jensen took home, and that's something that's haunted Jensen ever since.
When he agreed to coach Jared, he swore that no matter what the event, and no matter what the score, he would never make Jared feel the way Jensen's coach did about that bronze medal; that it wasn't good enough; that Jensen wasn't good enough. Maybe that doesn't make him the best coach, but Jensen's sure that's why he's been able to build a close friendship with Jared over the last few years. They trust each other and more importantly they respect each other; Jensen wouldn't trade that for anything.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen sees the gate turn red again, the judges deciding it's too windy, and delaying Jared's last jump for the third time. Jensen nods, and Jared slides back to the heady heights of the sidelines at the top of the jump, where Jensen is waiting with open arms. He wraps the thick fleece blanket around Jared's lithe frame, pulling him in tight, Jared's back to his chest, as he rubs his right hand over Jared's heart; round and round in circles, just like he does in training.
The event is running long behind schedule due to the windy conditions, and the night has long since set in, along with the plummeting temperatures. But Jensen's trained Jared for this; the mental strength needed to keep your focus no matter how long you're waiting for the right wind conditions, and to keep the adrenaline pumping heat throughout your body; to use it, so it doesn't use you.
It's a state of mind that not all ski jumpers can achieve. It's what can win you the gold.
“Same old stars,” Jensen mutters in Jared's ear. Over and over, on repeat. Because while they're in a different country, on a different run, with a sea of tiny spectators cheering below, Jensen knows that Jared needs to hear that some things don't change; the stars above his head, and the hand rubbing circles over his heart.
Time slips by, second by second, and then the gate shifts to amber, and Jared leaves his embrace. In a seated position, Jared shuffles down to the centre of the gate and then places his skis solidly into the deep grooves on the run.
“Same old stars,” Jared says, a smile tugging at his lips, dimples digging deep holes into the apples of his cheeks.
Jensen cracks a smile, because damn, there's no sign of the kid's nerves, and that's exactly what he wants for Jared in this moment.
The gate goes green, signalling good wind, and a second later the flag is lowered by the team coach, and Jared winks at him before he pushes off the gate and disappears down the run so fast that Jensen doesn't dare to blink; he won't miss a single second of this.
It's hard to see from up here, but Jared's form is looking good as he sails off the end of the run and through the air, his long body stretched over his skis, and it's a big jump, that Jared lands perfectly judging by the wide arch of flying snow as he slides to a stop at the bottom of the hill to a crowd of cheering onlookers.
There are more jumpers scheduled to follow, but Jensen's already making his way down the hill, not caring if the next jumper lands or what their score is; he just needs to get to Jared.
The cheers of the spectators seem to get louder and louder, and now Jensen's running, pushing his way through coaches and jumpers as he searches the crowd for Jared.
Then he sees someone running towards him, and knows instinctively it's Jared. As they near other, Jensen can see that Jared's eyes are damp and his smile is wide, and he all but hurls himself into Jensen's arms.
They cling to each other fiercely, neither of them say anything, and maybe Jared knows that Jensen's never been more proud, that no matter what the scores is, or how Jared ranks, whether it's a medal or not, it really doesn't matter; Jared will always be a winner in Jensen's eyes.
The End
A/N: I couldn't resist a little fic after watching the poor ski jumpers get delayed due to the wind and how their coaches wrapped them in a little blanket to keep warm!