J2: Better Things
RPS, Jared/Jensen | R
Word count: ~1700
Summary: Jared lived on hand-me-downs until he was old enough to buy clothes for himself. There are things Jared will settle for.
Better Things
Jensen's always telling Jared to buy new things.
“That cellphone pouch… artifact.” Jensen looks at the object like its existence is an insult to his person in itself.
“What about it?” Jared asks, closing the trailer door behind him.
“Did your great grandfather give it to your grandfather before he headed to war?” Jensen asks, sincerely, only not. “Is that why you’re still keeping it?”
“Fuck you,” Jared laughs, “Also, cellphones weren’t invented until, like, 2 months ago.”
“You’re so smart, Jared. And he could’ve used it as a gun holder,” Jensen adds. “My point is, it sucks, buy a new one.”
“Why?” Jared asks, walking towards where Jensen is leaning against the counter.
“Because it looks like it’s dying,” Jensen says.
“I don’t mind,” Jared whispers against Jensen’s neck.
“I do,” Jensen persists, but Jared’s not really listening anymore because he’s planted himself against Jensen and all he can think about is how he still smells so nice after a whole day and a half of shooting.
+
Jared lived on hand-me-downs until he was old enough to buy clothes for himself.
When he was a kid, his mother would roll up the sleeves of Jeff’s old shirts so they fell a little above his elbows, and Jared would beam at her and never ask for new things. Jeff’s toys were awesome anyway, and the little scratches here and there didn’t bother Jared at all.
Sometimes, his mother would look at him weird and say 'Sorry', and Jared would furrow his brows and ask why. She’d answer 'for not being able to give you everything' and 5-year old Jared had thought that didn’t make sense, it must be a grown-up thing, because no-one can have everything, it was silly. If he had everything, then what would be left for everyone else? Jared had said as much and his mother had laughed and hugged him tight and said he was such a good boy.
+
Jensen started it.
Neither of them were drunk. Jensen was maybe a bit high, but his pupils weren’t blown and he didn’t reek of pot, just a few puffs, maybe. One or two.
Jensen smiled at him and Jared knew it was going to happen. Jared had been wanting it for a while, too, but being friends with Jensen was just so awesome that he managed to convince himself that it would have been fine if that’s all they could ever be.
But Jensen started it, pressed his lips against Jared’s and Jared had no choice but to pull him down and kiss him back and go in the general direction of where Jensen was heading and now Jared can’t stop.
It doesn’t matter if Jensen slows down or comes to a halt altogether. Jensen started it but it’s Jared who can’t stop needing more.
Jared isn’t used to it.
+
“What is this?” Jared says one day, like he just can’t help it.
Jensen looks at him, blinks a few times, and disentangles his fingers from Jared’s hair. His lips are still wet. “I’d like to think it’s called making out,” Jensen says, annoyance dripping from each word as he brings his legs down from Jared’s waist.
“Is that all?” Jared asks, because really, he can’t stop once he’s started.
Jensen eyes him like he’s making no sense, and when he gives no answer, Jared goes on. “This,” he says. “Us, what are we?”
Jensen sighs and pushes Jared away then, the flush is disappearing under the collar of his shirt as he leans back against the wall. “What do you think, Jared?”
Jared tells the truth. “I don’t know.”
Jensen sighs again.
+
Jared had wanted to go to college.
But he got into this acting thing and it turned out well, so. He sometimes still wonders how it would have been if he had gone, where he might be now. He could have been a doctor, saving lives and all that. It would have been nice.
Jared looks around at what he’s got: scripts on the table and empty beer bottles in strange places, Jensen on the bed, sleeping. No diploma framed on the wall, but-
“Jared?” Jensen’s voice is sleepy and low, private, all for Jared.
It’s all good.
+
“There was a time when I wanted to be a surgeon,” Jared says, idly running his hands over Jensen’s sides.
They’re sprawled together on the couch, in a strange position that somehow made sense, Jensen’s head somewhere under Jared’s armpit and Jared’s leg over Jensen’s thigh. It’s 2:30 AM and they’re both tired from shooting but buzzing with left-over adrenaline. Too tired to fuck, and this is the alternative.
Jensen grabs one of Jared’s hands. “You should’ve,” he says sleepily, bringing Jared’s hand to his mouth, “Steady hands.”
Jensen kisses his fingertips, each quivering a little as Jensen’s lips touch them. “Not really,” Jared breathes.
He thinks he doesn’t want to be anywhere else but here, right now. Nowhere but here.
+
Jared had a cousin who stole toys. He would go over to Jared’s house on weekends with his mom and dad, and he would play with Jared and slip some of Jared’s (Jeff’s) toys into his back pockets. Jared would look at the faint outline of it under his cousin’s shirt, think he probably didn’t have any at home, and let them go.
His toy soldiers were missing some men, but Jared thought they could go on with a few casualties.
+
“What do you think this is?”
Jensen asks him the question on a Thursday. It’s like Jared threw it at him, and Jensen caught it and saved it for later use.
Jared is caught off-guard, undoing Jensen’s fly. He stops. “What do you want it to be?”
Jensen frowns and he looks a little angry. “Don’t-don’t do that, Jared.”
And Jared doesn’t know what Jensen wants. He doesn’t know what he’s allowed to have, so he says what years and years of settling for hand-me-downs and old things and broken things tell him to say.
“Fine, we’re just,” Jared shrugs. “Convenient, I guess.”
Jensen’s frown disappears then, and he looks at Jared with something like defeat, like he’s giving up a chess piece. He nods slowly and says, “Right.”
Jensen doesn’t really meet his eyes when he kisses Jared lightly on the lips. When he closes the trailer door on the way out, it’s quiet.
+
When Sandy had finally ended it, all those months ago, Jared had looked at her and said ‘Okay,’ because he didn’t want to make it hard for her and he didn’t know how to take things that were held away from him.
Sandy had looked back at him sadly, and if Jared saw a little bit of disappointment in her eyes he hadn’t been able to make sure, because she walked away then and Jared didn’t run after her.
He didn’t move, not backward or forward.
+
Something is different. They still fuck and do the things they used to do but something is off, and Jared feels it like a missing tooth.
And this should be okay, it should be fine for Jared because Jared has been settling for things his whole life. If Jensen wants only the fucking, then Jared can deal. He’s being given enough that he almost can’t tell the difference between then and now. But Jared does notice, and once he does, it stretches out a million miles bigger than it should. Jensen doesn’t talk as often, doesn’t smile as bright. When Jared kisses him, he takes longer to respond.
When it becomes clear to Jared that he’s in love with Jensen, he realizes that he wants nothing more than to make him love Jared back. He wants this more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life, and the only way to go is forward.
+
When Jared comes home, the dogs are asleep, and so is Jensen in the guest bedroom. He doesn’t sleep in Jared’s anymore.
Jared loves watching Jensen sleep, loves the softness of him when he’s dreaming, eyelashes fluttering almost indistinctly and lips slightly parted. Jared thinks he could watch Jensen sleep for hours, but tonight-- tonight, he has to wake him.
Jared sits on the edge of the bed and kisses Jensen’s shoulder, runs his hands over Jensen’s arms, then whispers, “Hey.”
Jensen stirs and opens his eyes slowly, blinks blearily up at Jared. “Hey,” he says, softly.
Jared just stares at him, taking him in in this new stupidly lovestruck view, and after a minute, Jensen says, “D’you wanna…” then he looks down at Jared’s crotch and Jared laughs and says, “No, not tonight.”
Jensen stills and Jared can see him wake up fully. Jared sees the poorly concealed sting in his expression, and is quick to save.
“No, Jen, I just-“ Jared starts, and he doesn’t know how else to say it, so he just blurts out, “It’s not because we’re convenient.”
Jensen frowns, then relaxes under him, and Jared goes on. “Us, this. I’m not letting it end,” he whispers, “Ever, I think.”
Jensen laughs, a happy sound that makes Jared smile. “Ever?”
Jared nods. “Love you,” he adds, like an afterthought, and Jensen’s laugh is cut short, only because he sort of chokes at it at Jared’s words. Jared forgets that Jensen is new to this revelation.
Soon Jensen is sitting up and sort of wheezing and he looks absolutely ridiculous and Jared adores him, still. “You don’t just say things like that,” Jensen says, once he’s recovered.
“Better get used to it, though,” Jared answers.
Jensen stares at him for a long while, and just when Jared’s about to fidget under his gaze, Jensen leans in and kisses him. “I kind of do, too. Love you, I mean.” He ducks his head, and even in the dim room, the flush that rises up his cheeks is apparent.
Jared tilts Jensen’s face up and says happily, “Good, 'cause I’m not settling for anything less.”
+++++
Ooh, this story in Chinese here, translated by pearlzilla!