Fic: Gunpoint. AU RPS. Jensen/Jared. Chapter 17
Masterpost
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Epilogue | Author's notes | Soundtrack | AO3
Chapter 17
August 2012
It's an unusually slow afternoon after a ridiculously busy morning. Jensen stands silent behind the counter, not thinking of anything in particular while trying his best to ignore Sophia. She's talking to him, or rather at him, saying something about it always being like this at the start of the school year. The freshmen are too stressed and overwhelmed by the whole newness of being in college to dare venture outside the main area yet. The more seasoned students, who feel their hard-earned money from various boring summer jobs is well spent on pricy coffee in the mornings - since it keeps them awake - choose to fuel their afternoon celebrations of being reunited with old friends with beer and pot, rather than caffeine. It will even out, Sopha promises and smiles at Jensen, as if to say he shouldn't worry.
Jensen gives her a disinterested look, wondering why she can't just shut up. Not like he asked or even showed the slightest interest in this or any of the other boring subjects she's been going on about for the last two hours since Chris took off. Mostly, he thinks, she talks to fill in his silence. Even after a year she still feels awkward being alone with him, he can tell. The endless prattle annoys him but she's his boss so there's not really much he can do about it. Except this: ignore her and hope she takes the hint. So far it's not working.
Jensen's mind has pretty much blanked out, having first turned Sophia's voice into a more pleasant white noise, when there's a ping from the bell above the door. He sighs and blinks his eyes reluctantly into focus just as a tall, lean shadow steps in from the afternoon sun, duffle bag slung over its shoulder, map in hand.
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Present day
Jensen’s family drives up for his birthday. Not something he'd expected or even wished for, but still their arrival gives him a feeling in his chest that until now he’d only associated with Chris and, to some extent, Sophia. Like maybe he wouldn’t mind if they stuck around for a while.
That only lasts for about ten minutes, then their expectations and high hopes start to get even more on his nerves than usual. It’s as if they’ve decided that now he’s proven himself to have feelings - as evidenced by the addition of a boyfriend - he should be back to his old self - whoever that person was - or at least behave like a normal human being. Meaning considerate, caring, happy. Talking.
His throat closes up the moment they step into the apartment. He shakes his father’s hand and gives his mother an obligatory kiss on the cheek, endures his sister’s insistent embrace and gives his brother a curt nod, the recent flashback from their youth still making him feel oddly angry, without really knowing why.
Jared is nervous, smiling too wide and laughing too loud at Jensen’s dad’s jokes that are usually at Jensen’s expense. God, he hates those. “Silence is golden,” how often has he heard that one? Or calling him a chatterbox every time they think he’s withdrawing or ignoring their conversation. Not to mention, “Keep those gestures PG-13, kiddo.” Ugh. He resists the urge to tell them to fuck off, using both middle fingers if necessary, and instead grits his teeth and smiles, fingernails digging into his palms.
Chris takes on the usual buffering role, deflecting any discussions that might lead to rows and sending Jensen glares and warning headshakes every time he’s not on his best behavior. Jensen can see Chris's anger simmering under the surface though, but oddly enough it doesn’t seem to be directed at him but his parents. He’s not sure what that is about, but his bet is on the details of his kidnapping that they'd eluded to tell Chris about. Seriously, Chris is angrier about that than the fact that they didn’t tell Jensen? Christ. What is it with everyone thinking they are entitled to his life? Fuck them.
They go out for dinner and his mother has the audacity to order his food (“He’ll have the chicken. Right, honey? He can’t, he can’t speak. I’m sorry.”), his dad tells Chris no, when he tries to order Jensen a beer (“Remember what dr. Soran said.”), Chris kicks Jensen’s leg under the table when he raises his fists in anger and Jared... Jared looks terrified as he stares at the menu, most likely because there’s no way he can even afford a side dish at this stuck-up place.
That’s it. It’s his fucking birthday, and he’s not spending it like this. He shoves away from the table and stands up, grabbing Jared’s hand and giving him a look that offers no argument. They’re leaving.
“Jensen, what?”
His mother looks bewildered; his dad sighs, like it’s no more than he expected; his brother seems to be trying to burn a hole in the table cloth with his intense staring while his sister looks up from her tweeting or whatever it is she's doing on her phone, clearly clueless about what’s going on.
“Don’t be like that, son,” his dad says briskly, the smile infuriatingly condescending. “Sit down and have a nice meal with us.”
Jensen takes a deep breath. “This?” he whispers, his voice so hoarse he’d kill for the beer his dad just denied him. “Not nice. It’s my birthday, and I’m spending it with Jared, because he’s the only person in this room who actually cares what I want.”
They all stare at him like he’s an alien, his mother covering her mouth with one hand, tears springing into her eyes. It takes him a second but then he gets it. Of course. He talked. That they care about.
“Go home,” he says coldly and walks out, dragging a worried looking Jared behind him.
They walk, hand in hand, in silence. Jensen is still fuming but slowly his anger makes way for an unexplainable sadness. He feels stupidly disappointed. Guess they weren’t the only ones with high hopes. The truth is he has come far, so far, from when they last saw him, and he’d wanted them to see that, had wanted to shove it in their faces with a smug smile and maybe then, finally, they would feel pride instead of pity. But it was like nothing had changed. To them he’s still that stupid mute kid from thirteen years ago. The kid who they had to shelter from the world, from the truth. From himself. It’s infuriating.
“You know they love you,” Jared says suddenly.
Jensen sighs. People keep telling him that, like it excuses everything. What the fuck does it matter that they love him if the only thing their precious love does, is make him more miserable?
“I mean, I get why you’re angry. They treat you like a child, and you’re not. It’s just...” Jared pauses and clears his throat like, for once, he’s the one who’s stumbling over his words. “They love you. You know? And they’re trying. They try.”
“I tried!” Jensen bristles. “I-“
“I wasn’t talking about you,” Jared says, his voice quiet.
Oh. Jensen glances up, taking in the sad look in Jared’s eyes and the way his Adam’s apple keeps bobbing as he swallows repeatedly. Jensen stops, turning around so they’re facing, then reaches up to cup Jared’s cheek and kisses him. Slow, sweet, lovingly. He steps back and gives Jared a small smile.
“C’mon,” he says and takes Jared’s hand again before walking back, in the direction they came from.
“What?” Jared asks confused as he quickens his step along with Jensen’s. “Where are we going?”
“Back.”
He doubts they’ve left yet. Chris is probably still trying to calm everyone, while his parents once again argue that they should take him home to Texas, because clearly he’s unstable and therefor unfit to be on his own.
“Okay,” Jared says, frowning. “Why?”
Jensen shrugs. “You’re right, they love me. So they’ll love you.”
If possible Jared looks even more confused. “I don’t...”
“You need a family,” Jensen clarifies. “And they’re all I have.”
Jared falls quiet at that, which is just as well, because Jensen can feel his throat tighten the closer they get to the restaurant. They’re just across the street when Jared pulls Jensen to a halt and then wraps his arms around him, hugging him tight. Only for a minute before he catches himself and starts to let go, but Jensen grabs hold and hugs him back even tighter. Jared hitches his breath. They stand there for a long time before reluctantly letting go. Jared tilts Jensen’s head up for a light kiss. “Thank you.”
Jensen smiles and pushes down the dread churning in his stomach. He can do this. He can. Just smile and nod and pretend everything is all right.
“You know, the kid wouldn’t be able to handle this,” Jared says and squeezes him even tighter. “And he definitely wouldn’t be doing this.”
He dips his head down, and again they’re kissing, but this time it’s different. This time it’s heat, and want and need, and for a moment Jensen forgets where they are, and why they’re there, and who could be watching. It’s just Jared and them and their shared heat in the cold spring breeze. When they finally pull apart they’re both flushed and panting.
“Let’s show them just how grown up you are,” Jared says with a grin, wrapping his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and steering him across the street and back into the restaurant.
The look on everyone’s faces as they return is priceless. His mother looks ready to cry - again! - his dad stands up quickly, hands hovering, like he doesn’t know whether to hug him or yell at him; and Chris stares, mouth open, before catching himself and straightening up, an easy smile plastered on his face.
“Have a nice walk?” he asks casually, like that’s all it ever was, and Jensen can’t help it, he snorts a laugh.
“Yeah.” He turns to his parents and gives them a tight smile. “We’re going for burger and beers. Not here. A place two blocks over. You coming?”
They stare at him, eyes blinking. Then Josh suddenly stands up. “Sounds good. Mom? Dad?”
“Yes,” his father says quickly. “Of course. Mac, put away that damn phone. It’s your brother’s birthday.”
She sighs as she pockets her phone but there’s a glint in her eye as she sends Jensen a wicked grin. “Yes, Dad.”
He turns to his mother and finds her still frozen, eyes huge and wet, hand once again covering her mouth.
Jensen fidgets, his mouth dry all of a sudden. He clears his throat, and it turns into a coughing fit. His dad reaches for him in alarm, but he gestures him to back off, reaching behind him for Jared instead. A glass of water appears before him, and he looks up to find his brother holding it out to him, eyes concerned but steady. “Here.”
Jensen takes it with a nod, drinking slowly and relishing the feeling of his sore throat cooling down and the muscles relaxing. “Thanks,” he says hoarsely once he’s done.
Josh gives him a small smile. “No problem.”
It’s the first conversation they’ve had, for as far as Jensen can remember.
“Oh Jensen,” his mother suddenly sobs, bringing his attention back. “My baby. You... Oh sweetie. Your voice.”
“Honey,” his father says, as Jensen frantically starts clearing his throat again. “Not now.” He turns to Jensen and gives him a small smile. “I’ll go pay for our drinks.” Then he adds in a low voice. “She’s just happy. Let her be. Please, son.”
Jensen waves it off, still coughing, but when his mother stands up and hugs him, wrapping her arms around him like she’s afraid he’ll lose his voice if she lets go, he doesn’t push her away, just breathes frantically through his nose and even pats her awkwardly on the back.
The burger place is the one he and Jared usually go to when they crave something cheap but tasty. The burgers are thick and juicy; the fries are done just right. The beer is cold, and the waiter never asks Jared for an ID. So what if the place itself looks a little run down, and the music is a little too loud? Not that they usually talk that much anyway.
Jensen’s mother stares at him like she’s watching a miracle in action when he orders his own food with a hoarse but clear voice; his father raises an eyebrow but sighs in defeat when Jensen adds beers to the order, both for him and Jared. Mac and Jared actually hit it off, now Jared’s in an environment where he can relax enough to be himself. Josh tells Jensen about his work at the hospital. He nods and offers a few comments, their talk stilted and awkward but at least it’s there. His parents hold hands under the table, watching the interaction with stars in their eyes. When dinner is over, and it’s time for them to go back to their hotel, they both hug Jared hard, looking at him like he’s their son’s heavenly savior. It would be embarrassing if Jared didn’t look so overwhelmingly happy.
That night, when he lies in bed, listening to Jared and Chris snore in tandem across the room, Jensen thinks of words like ‘son’ and ‘brother’ and ‘family’. And for the first time, since he was ten years old, they carry something other than the definition in the dictionary. Like a warm heavy feeling in his chest, like strings and bonds, like echoes from a time he can’t remember but can still feel, somehow. It’s not very pleasant, in fact he preferred it when he didn’t feel anything but contempt, but...
He looks at Jared’s sleeping face, the open, slack mouth, the dreaming eyes moving under closed eyelids, the wisp of hair that insists on draping over his face, waving like a curtain with every exhale of breath. And he thinks: if this makes Jared happy, if having a family, as close to his own as he can get, makes Jared happy, then Jensen is going to make sure he gets it.
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As disastrous as Jensen’s family’s visit had started out, they end up having a pretty okay weekend. Sure, Jared can see why they get on Jensen’s nerves: they are overwhelmingly protective and seem to believe him incapable of caring or even thinking for himself. Every word he utters brings tears to his mother’s eyes, every reaction they interpret as distress has them jumping in alarm. The only one who doesn’t treat him like a broken child is his sister, who blows off his tantrums with a roll of her eyes and repeatedly uses his muteness to her advantage, pretending not to understand his broken-off sentences or angry gestures. Jared would have thought she’d be the one to piss Jensen off the most, but even if he continually glares at her in anger or flips her off in frustration, Jared can detect a hint of pride and affection in Jensen’s eyes the minute she turns her back.
“They’ve always been like that,” Chris says when Jared asks him. “She was only two when it happened, so, to her, this is normal. She doesn’t remember how he was before, so she isn’t constantly comparing or waiting for him to change back. I think that makes all the difference.” He smiles, looking nostalgic for a moment. “She was such a prankster, always blaming him for everything she did, knowing he couldn’t tell on her. Once, on Josh’s twentieth birthday I think it was, Jensen managed to snap a shot of her writing his name in the frosting on the cake with her finger. He used the picture to blackmail her for months until she stole it. Of course he’d already made plenty of copies so...”
He grins, and Jared laughs, looking over where Mac is talking constantly about everything and nothing to an increasingly annoyed Jensen, who is trying to paint. He keeps glaring at her and lifting his hand, gesturing at her to shut up and stop bothering him, but she pretends she doesn’t notice and chatters on, looking increasingly smug. Suddenly Jensen turns around and raises the brush, a determined look on his face. He manages one step forward before she looks up and realizes what's happening.
“Jensen, what are you... No! Get away from me!”
She jumps to her feet, shrieking as he chases her around the room, while their parents watch with resigned and rather wistful expressions from the couch. He finally catches her by the bathroom where he pins her against the door and turns her face into a canvas of blue swirls. She yells and shouts in protest before breaking down in giggles. Jensen steps back, looking smug and triumphant until he takes in his masterpiece and suddenly bursts out laughing.
His parents’ jaws practically drop on the floor. Jared hears Mrs. Ackles gasp, “Oh my God! Alan...” to which her husband quickly answers, “I know,” and grabs her hand, holding her back when she makes a move to stand. “Don’t. Just enjoy.”
Jared turns away, feeling awkward and intruding. And oddly proud. He did that. Him. If nothing else, at least he accomplished that.
“Hey, can we talk?”
He looks up to find Josh fidgeting beside him, eyes shifting to Jensen, who is still chuckling, and back to Jared.
Jared swallows and conjures a smile that he hopes looks confident. “Sure. I have to go pick up the pizza anyway. We can talk on the way.” He grabs the keys to the truck and pockets the money Chris sneaks into his hand. “Come on.”
He doesn’t know what to expect. The hurt-my-brother-and-I’ll-kill-you speech? Or something worse? It’s hard to get a reading on Jensen’s brother. Where his parents wear their hearts on their sleeves and Mac is open and friendly - if rather mischievous - Josh seems closed off, if not exactly hostile.
God, he hopes it’s not the gay thing. He’s had enough of that kind of crap to last him a lifetime.
“Look,” he says nervously as soon as they’re in the car, “I love your brother. I will never deliberately do anything to hurt him, I promise.”
Josh looks at him in surprise, but then a smile tugs at his lips, the first one Jared’s seen him crack since he got here. “Jared, I’m not worried. Well, I am, but not about that.” He turns to stare out the window at the dull gray streets. The snow is finally gone but it’s only the 3rd of March and spring isn’t in any hurry to get to this part of the country.
“Has he...” He pauses then starts again. “Does he ever talk about me? And when I say talk I mean... you know what I mean.”
Jared’s not sure what to say. “He doesn’t really talk about any of you but... you've been in a few of his drawings.” Josh looks over at him, clearly expecting more, so Jared adds awkwardly, “You usually look pretty mad in them.” He shoots Josh a glance and cringes at the stricken look on his face. “Not like you’ve been fighting, just angry.”
Suddenly he remembers Jensen’s painting from a few weeks ago, of the two brothers playing video games and describes it as vividly as he can.
Josh nods, blinking rapidly. He clears his throat, his voice slightly hoarse when he says, “We used to do that, before. After...” He takes a deep breath. “He’s right. I was angry. So damn angry. But not at him. Never at him.” He’s silent for a long time, so long that Jared’s thinking of talking about the weather or just anything to break the tension, when Josh suddenly bursts out, “You know, he hated me. He did, I could tell. He hated my guts. But not as much as I hated myself.” He waves away Jared’s attempt to protest. “No. I did. I still do. Because it was my fault.”
Jared stills. “What?”
“There was this girl...” Josh shakes his head and laughs. It sounds horrible. “She asked me to walk her home so... I ditched him. I ditched my little brother. I told, I told him to go home. To get lost.” He falls silent, the last word hanging huge and heavy between them.
“You had no way of knowing what would happen,” Jared says carefully. Jesus, he can’t imagine carrying that kind of guilt for all these years.
“Doesn’t matter. I should have been there. I could have prevented it. Could have kept that fucking sicko from...” Josh stops, jaw clenched.
“You don’t know that,” Jared tries to reason. “Maybe he would have taken both of you. Maybe he’d just have waited for a better opportunity.”
“Maybe he would have taken someone else!” Josh snaps, and there’s the anger Jared recognizes from Jensen’s drawings.
Jared swallows. “And maybe that little boy would have died.”
“Don’t,” Josh warns coldly. “Don’t expect me to put some stranger before my own brother.”
Jared sighs. “I’m not. I’m just sayin’... He’s still here, you know. He’s not the same kid you used to know, but he’s still your brother. You can still be there for him.”
Josh snorts. “Like he’d even want me to.”
Jared shakes his head. “I know he acts like he doesn’t care, but believe me, he does. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have made that painting.”
Josh looks over at him. He doesn’t look convinced, but Jared thinks he can detect a hint of hope in the pale green eyes that look nothing like Jensen’s.
“Yeah, maybe.” Josh clears his throat. “I never told our parents. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I told them he hadn’t waited for me, like he was supposed to. I just... I couldn’t.”
“I won’t tell them,” Jared assures him. It’s not his place, whatever he might think. “But you need to tell Jensen.”
Josh shakes his head. “No! What the hell for? We’re finally talking. He’s just gonna hate me again, just like before.”
“Because from what I could see in those drawings, he thinks you’re mad at him. That you blame him for... I don’t know. For changing. For not being normal. I'm guessing the way you reacted seemed like rejection, and that probably hurt like hell.” He sighs when Josh flinches. Maybe he’s projecting his own issues a little too much. He just has very little tolerance for stupid brothers. “Just talk to him. You both need to set things straight.”
Josh doesn’t answer, but after a while he nods. They reach the pizza place and Jared parks the truck, bringing their conversation to an end. Just as well, he really doesn’t know what else to say. Besides, this isn’t really his business. However much he wants to help bring the brothers back together, this is something they need to work out between themselves.
Everything is quiet and calm when they come back. Alan Ackles is looking through Jensen’s newest collection of paintings, his son watching him with an expression of intense boredom that doesn’t fool Jared one bit. Jensen may hate his father’s meddling when it comes to his career but that doesn’t mean he’s indifferent to his opinion. In fact Jared thinks that makes him crave his father’s approval even more, if for no other reason than to rub his independence and success in his parents’ faces, like ‘Look, I’m doing fine without you.’
Mac is yet again glued to her phone and Chris and Jensen’s mother are in the kitchen area, talking politely as they lay the table for dinner. Jared can’t help admiring Chris’s restraint. Ever since they found out the truth about Jensen’s captivity Chris has been feeling a growing resentment towards Jensen’s parents. He tries to keep it in check whenever Jensen is around - Jared’s not sure why, after all chances are Jensen would agree with him - but he unleashes his wrath regularly when it’s just him and Jared, and sometimes Sophia. Honestly, he’d been expecting Chris to fly off the handle the minute Jensen’s parents arrived, but so far he’s been a model host. Still, the cracks are showing and Jared’s not sure how much longer he can keep it in. Just as well the Ackles clan is heading home at noon tomorrow.
The conversation around the table is easier than last night although Jensen still isn’t saying much, and Josh is quiet as well. When they’re done eating, Jensen’s parents sit down on the couch with their coffee, while Jared helps Mac clean up, acting like he doesn’t notice Josh dragging Jensen out of the apartment for a ‘walk’. Jensen doesn’t look too happy, but with the weather being so nice, and nothing needing his attention, he doesn’t really have an excuse not to go.
They don’t come back until over an hour later. Jared searches Jensen for any hint at how their conversation went but his face is blank as he goes straight to his easel and starts to sort out his brushes and paint. Josh isn’t much help either, with his closed off face and aloof manner he’s impossible to read, and when he catches Jared watching him, he only offers a light shrug that doesn’t tell Jared anything.
It’s weird having so many people in the small apartment. The couch only takes three, the chair one. It feels rude to sit at the kitchen table even if it’s in the same room, since it's situated behind the couch. Jared ends up sitting on Jensen’s bed, feeling extremely self-conscious every time someone in Jensen’s family looks his way. What if they’re picturing what he and Jensen do in that bed together? Chris keeps standing up and puttering about like an anxious housewife, offering their guests beverages and snacks and different topics of conversation. Jensen seems to have conveniently forgotten about all of them, his focus directed at whatever it is he’s painting. Time ticks slowly by until, finally, Jensen’s parents yawn and hum and ha and get up to leave for their hotel.
Jared and Chris say goodbye to them at the door with Jensen only offering a distracted wave. Chris stands by the window, as if to make sure they’re leaving, before going into the kitchen and pouring himself a large drink.
“Tomorrow can’t come early enough,” he grumbles, downing the golden liquid and filling the glass again. “I know they’re family but sometimes I just...” He shakes his head and takes another big gulp.
Jared doesn’t point out that they’re not actually Chris’s family. After all, with Jensen and Chris being what they are, they might as well be.
“They’re not that bad.” At Chris’s incredulous look he relents. “Okay, they’re a bit bad but they’re trying.”
“They’re always trying,” Chris mutters. “That’s the problem. How about actually doing something for a change?”
“Well, Yoda, maybe they don’t believe in The Force,” Jared says gravely.
“Haha, funny. Chewbacca,” Chris shoots back with a glare, but he can’t help cracking a smile when Jared shakes the mop of hair into his eyes and does a very loud impression of a Wookie.
Jensen doesn’t even look up. He’s still standing by the easel when Jared kisses him on the cheek and goes to bed a little after midnight.
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Jensen forgives his parents for waking him up before ten the next morning but only because they bring hot coffee and enough pastries and fresh fruit to feed a whole army. He sits unshaven, with bed-hair, in dirty jeans and a stale smelling t-shirt, clutching his coffee mug and munching on a chocolate croissant while trying to ignore his parents’ loving gaze. He’s not sure what time he went to bed but he definitely hasn’t had enough sleep to be even remotely coherent.
“Jared tells me you’re thinking of starting an art class for kids,” his dad suddenly says.
Jensen shoots a flustered Jared an admonishing look, but he’s really too tired to muster up any real anger at Jared for sharing what's really not any of their business. Instead he nods and shrugs and takes another gulp of coffee. He waits for the usual flood of criticism but his father only smiles at him and goes back to eating his breakfast. His mother is fidgeting though, and he can feel himself tensing with apprehension. “What?” he finally whispers.
She looks at him, startled, then smiles softly and reaches for his hand across the table. Oh God, he hopes she’s not going to cry again.
“You’re doing so well, honey,” she says with a proud smile. “It’s amazing.”
He gives her a quick awkward smile.
“I know you hate it when we talk about your speech, but, honey, hearing you talk...” She smiles and shakes her head. “You’ll understand when you have children of your own.”
Jensen chokes, spitting coffee all over the table. His sister slaps him helpfully on the back, glowing with glee. Jared’s face looks as if it might catch fire any minute. Everyone else seems uncertain whether they should be grinning or ignoring the display.
“Mom!” Jensen sputters when he finally gets his breath back. “I’m gay!”
She dismisses that with a wave. “So? You can adopt.”
He stares at the hopeful smile on her face. Then he looks over at Jared who, despite his embarrassment, meets his gaze with a small smile of his own. Oh shit.
Jensen swallows. “No,” he says quietly, watching Jared’s smile slip away. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can. There’s no law against that in this state.”
He takes a deep breath and finally looks away from Jared’s sad but understanding eyes to meet his mother’s clueless grin. “I can’t. Not with my medical record.”
She looks stunned, like that hadn’t even occurred to her. “But...”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry.” He puts away his mug and stands up. “Jared?”
Jared instantly gets up and follows Jensen into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” Jensen says as soon as the door is locked behind them. He rubs his eyes, feeling so damn tired. “Shit, Jared.”
“Jensen, it’s okay,” Jared says gently. “I never expected to have children anyway.”
Jensen shakes his head. Doesn’t matter if Jared expected it or not, he should have the option. And if he sticks with Jensen, he never will.
“Dude, stop it. I’m eighteen,” Jared says, a smile in his voice. “I refuse to have a midlife crisis now just because you can’t get pregnant.”
Jensen can’t help it, he snorts out a laugh. “Me? You’re the girl.”
“Not tonight, I won’t be.”
Jensen’s gaze jumps up so fast he feels dizzy. “Tonight?” he repeats, his mouth dry.
“If you still want to.” Jared looks uncertain all of a sudden, so Jensen grabs him by the neck and pulls him down for a hard, deep kiss before fixing him with a heated gaze.
“No waiting. Now. As soon as my parents leave.”
Jared visibly gulps. “We’ll have to get rid off Chris.”
Jensen grins. “No problem.”
The rest of breakfast goes by infuriatingly slowly. He waves off his mother’s flustered apologies and urges them to please have some more, hoping that the faster they finish the faster they’ll leave. But his dad wants to read the news and Mac wants to charge her phone and his mother keeps trying to make up for her blunder by talking a mile per minute. It’s not until Chris points out that traffic will pick up considerably after twelve o’clock that they show signs of leaving. That’s when Jensen suddenly remembers the painting.
It’s darker than he remembers - but then again he’d been dead tired by the time he finally finished - and the parts where the paint is thickest haven’t quite dried yet, but it will have to do. He picks it up from the easel and turns it around, holding it out to Josh. “Here.”
The room falls deadly quiet. He feels unsure all of a sudden and pushes the painting forward, silently begging Josh to take it because he doesn’t trust his voice to work.
“Jensen,” Josh says, sounding choked. “That’s...” He straightens up, shoulders squaring, and carefully, almost reverently, accepts the painting from Jensen’s outstretched hands. “Thank you.”
Jensen manages a small smile, hands dropping to his sides in relief. Not that he really thought Josh wouldn’t take it. Truth is, he’s quite pleased with it. He suspects their respective heights might be off but too much difference would have made Josh’s arm over his shoulders look weird. He got their expressions from those home videos his parents used to make him watch in hope that they’d trigger his memory. It’s been years since he saw any of them so he probably didn’t get it quite right but it’s the only referential source he has of him and his brother looking happy together.
His mother looks like she’s about to start crying again, so he quickly hugs them goodbye - which triggers another emotional outburst - and practically pushes them out the door. Him and Jared watch from the window as the Ackles clan gets into the taxi - the painting gingerly balanced on top of the luggage in the back - and finally leave.
“It has to be five o’clock somewhere,” Chris says gruffly and heads for the kitchen, but Jensen grabs him by the elbow and turns him around, steering him to the door and ignoring his loud protests of, “Let me go! What are you-”
“We’re gonna have sex,” Jensen announces, smirking at Jared’s startled cough.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chris groans. “It’s the middle of the day! Can’t you wait until later?”
“No. Go.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Chris grabs his jacket and throws them a glare - like he hasn’t been waiting for a chance to meet up with Sophia for some sex of his own - before stalking out and slamming the door behind him.
Suddenly the apartment seems eerily quiet. Jensen turns to find Jared leaning against the wall, watching him with a hesitant but hopeful look in his eyes. “We’re really doing this?” he asks. “‘Cause you know, I’m good with waiting if you-”
“Bed, now,” Jensen orders and Jared’s mouth snaps shut, just like that.
Jensen pulls the t-shirt over his head, and with that the smell of sweat - relatively fresh but definitely in danger of quickly turning sour - suddenly hits him.
“Wait. I need...” He sniffs, wrinkles his nose and grimaces. “Ugh, yeah. Shower.”
Jared stares at him in disbelief, chest already bare and one leg out of his jeans. “You’re kidding, right?” he says.
Jensen fidgets, scratching his chest. And head. And... fuck, he itches everywhere. Ugh. And, double-ugh, his teeth feel kinda furry now he’s awake enough to pay attention to them. “No?”
It’s not that he’s anal when it comes to his morning routine, whatever Jared says - he managed for two whole hours without it this time, didn’t he? It’s just that, well, he’d rather not get constantly distracted by his own stink when he’s supposed to be thinking about a whole different kind of dirty.
“God, you’re such a princess,” Jared groans, but the smile he sends Jensen is more affectionate than annoyed. “Go on then, get yourself all fresh and pretty for me.”
“Nuhuh, you too,” Jensen says and tugs Jared along to the bathroom. “Think of it as foreplay.”
“Ooh, kinky.”
Jensen slaps Jared on the ass, grinning. He feels light in his chest, the air clear as it rushes down his throat, free from any constrictions. He forms words with his lips, tests them out with his tongue. Feels slightly giddy with anticipation when everything works as it should.
He takes off his jeans as Jared turns on the shower and flings his underwear into the corner. Then steps under the spray, joining an already wet Jared. He puts his hands on Jared’s hips and tilts up his head, eyes closed against the fall of warm water on his face as they kiss. Jared’s big hands are cupping his ass, his dick thick and heavy where it slides along Jensen’s hipbone.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” Jared murmurs and kisses him again, at the corner of his mouth and along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe and then licking his way down the slope of Jensen’s neck until he reaches the shoulder where he locks on with his lips and sucks, hard enough that Jensen knows there will be a mark. He’s already breathing heavily, his eyes are still closed, his fingers digging into the toned muscles at Jared’s waist. His mouth waters at the thought of dropping to his knees and tasting Jared’s dick, letting it run along his palate and thrust down his throat. He lets himself get lost in the fantasy, watching it evolve and change and go further than he’s ever allowed his mind to go while Jared slides warm soapy hands all over his body, spurring the images on even further. Jared’s fingers dip lower, slipping into crevices and sliding over sensitive skin, making it tingle and flush hot.
“Jared?”
Jared hums and tips Jensen’s head back, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. Jensen holds his breath, feeling the water slick his hair back as the suds wash away. Then he straightens up, blinks the water out of his eyes and says, loud and clear, “Fuck me.”
Jared pulls back to stare at him, eyes dark. There’s no trace of fear or uncertainty, just raw lust and need. “Yeah,” he says, and the heat in his voice sends shivers down Jensen’s spine. “Fuck, yes.”
He kisses Jensen hard and deep, his tongue thrusting into Jensen’s mouth, a needy growl rumbling in his chest. Jensen feels so dizzy he doesn’t even notice when the water is turned off but suddenly he’s standing wet and dripping in the middle of the bathroom with Jared rubbing his hair with a towel then haphazardly drying him off before throwing the towel aside and pulling him in for another greedy kiss.
They kiss their way out of the bathroom and across the room, bumping into doorways and walls and furniture before finally falling sideways on the still unmade bed. Jensen can’t remember them ever kissing like this. Not with Jared’s mouth crushing his lips or Jared’s hands gripping him so tight, so roughly. Gone are the hesitant gentle touches, gone are the light kisses and the held back emotions. This is raw, demanding need. Strong muscles and determined will.
It should terrify him, but all he feels is elevated with lust and need, so strong he can hardly contain it. Yes! This. God, this. Because underneath all that strength, all that want and lust and possessiveness, there’s love so deep, vibrating in Jared’s bones, thrumming through his veins, guiding every move of his muscles.
“God, I love you,” Jared groans, sucking marks all down Jensen’s chest and stomach. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you all mine.”
Jensen gasps, his hips thrusting upwards. “Yes. Please!”
“Mine!” Jared repeats with an angry growl and sucks him into his mouth.
Jensen loses his mind a little after that. He’s aware of Jared’s tongue and mouth, of intense heat and silky wetness. Of Jared’s rumbling voice asking him questions he’s too out of it to grasp but still answers yes to, every single one of them. Of Jared’s strong hands, his long fingers, the brush of his hair, the warmth of his breath. He lets himself be stroked and kissed and licked open, allows his body to be moved like Jared is the sea, is the waves, is the only thing holding him up. This is what it should be like.
There’s a moment, when the first finger enters him, cold and slick with lube, that he stops breathing. Just a moment of panic knocking on the door, rattling the doorknob. And he has to fight his brain not to let it in, has to remind himself that Fear isn’t real, isn’t a threat, isn’t anything that can actually hurt him, not unless he lets it. Just one moment, and then Jared’s mouth is back, sliding over his dick, warm and wet and wonderful, and the intruding finger becomes as much a part of him as Jared’s tongue is when it’s in his mouth, or Jared’s fingers are when they card through his hair. When the time comes to add another finger Jared moves up the bed, lips alternating between kissing Jensen and whispering words that tickle his skin, raising goose bumps and turning his ears red and hot in sync with the burn firing up his insides.
“So good, you’re so good. Fuck, you feel... So tight and warm. Can you feel that? Can you feel how much I love touching you, inside and out? God, I wanna touch you everywhere. Wanna touch every single inch of your fucking gorgeous body. Like that. Yes. Three fingers now. My fingers in you, filling you up. You like it? You like my fingers fucking you? My fingers. Mine!”
Jensen gasps yes, and Jared and please, please, please, oh, God, and before he knows it he’s got Jared looming over him, eyes gazing down, dark and desperate with need, as narrow hips push their way in between his knees, his thighs, then closer, pressing down, the hard length of Jared’s cock slipping in the sweat pooling on his belly.
“Now?” Jared asks, breathing harshly, his chest flushed red and gleaming with sweat. “You sure? You ready?”
And Jensen just nods, because even if, for once, his words are all there, he can’t think of a single thing to say. Jared sucks in his breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if the sight of them finally coming together is enough to finish him if he watches it happen. And then his mouth is on Jensen’s, kissing him, sucking his tongue into his mouth and pushing his own into Jensen’s mouth, and it’s so amazing, so overwhelmingly good, that he doesn’t even realize what’s happening until the sharp sting of the thick head pushing past the rim breaks through the haze.
His eyes slam open, meeting Jared’s shocked stare that mirror’s his own. “Don’t-” he manages to choke out and Jared’s eyes widen in panic. He starts to pull back but Jensen grabs his arm, digging his fingers hard into the strained muscle. “Don’t move! Wait...”
They stare into each other’s eyes. Time is measured in inhales and exhales, obscenely loud in the empty room. It hurts, it does - of course it fucking does! - but that’s not what has his heart beating so hard he thinks it might break the bones in his chest.
“You’re in me,” he finally whispers, voice as hoarse as it’s ever been.
He can see Jared swallow, Adam’s apple moving up and down his throat, before he answers with a raspy, “Yes.”
“Fuck,” he breathes out.
One corner of Jared’s mouth trembles. For a while it looks as if he’s trying to swallow his own tongue, but then suddenly a burst of air escapes from between his pinched lips and he giggles, honestly giggles like a schoolgirl. “I’m trying, but you told me not to move!”
Jensen tries to look indignant - Really, this is a serious moment in their relationship! - but before he can help it he’s laughing as well. “It’s not funny,” he hiccups. “Stop laughing!”
Jared pinches his lips together but all that does is make his whole body shake with laughter. Jensen’s own giggles cut off as the movement pushes Jared forward, his cock inching its way inside in short shallow thrusts. “Jesus!”
Jared freezes. “Shit! I’m sorry. You okay?”
Jensen nods. It stings but the pressure has at least shifted a little. “I’m good. You can... Move. But slowly.”
Considering how easily he swallows Jared down his throat, it’s unreal how fucking hard it is to let him into his body. Jesus Christ, he doesn’t remember Jared’s dick being this long! Or wide. How elastic exactly is that whole passage, because it feels like it’s about to burst wide open. All over his insides! He’s starting to manically calculate in his head just how close this monster cock must be getting to his diaphragm, when he suddenly feels the light slap of Jared’s balls against his ass, and then, a short moment later, the weight of them settling there.
Everything goes still.
“Jensen?”
He nods, gritting his teeth. What is wrong with people? How can they enjoy this? Holy fucking Christ!
“I’m hurting you. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m trying but...”
He shakes his head. “Shut up. Shut up, shut up. How… When I... you? What did...?” He waves his hand in frustration.
There’s an awkward pause. “Well, you’re smaller so-”
“I will kill you!” Jensen hisses.
“Sorry!” Jared says, sounding frantic. “I’m sorry my dick is too big. Oh! Oh-oh-oh!”
“Oh? Oh what?”
“When you did me! You moved! Then it got a whole lot better.”
“Move!”
He sucks in his breath when Jared slowly pulls out, thankfully not the whole way, then grunts when he pushes even slower back in.
Different? Yes. Better? No. Definitely not.
“Hold on.”
Jared repeats the movement, then again a bit firmer, finally setting up a slow but steady pace, sliding in and out. Okay, it’s getting easier, but it’s still far from good. Jared likes this? Why? It’s fucking stupid. It’s-
“A few more times and then you did something like this-”
“Oh fucking shit!”
“Better?” Jared asks, sounding desperately hopeful.
“Jesus!” Jensen gasps. He think he might have bitten a hole through his tongue. He can’t really catch his breath. Jared is starting to look a little spooked.
“Does that mean yes?”
“Yes!”
“Okay. So...” Jared does the same kind of rotating movement with his hips, and Jensen almost shoots off the mattress.
“Fuck!”
“Okay, okay! I’ve got this now! Hold on tight.”
And that’s exactly what he does, with his fingers digging into Jared’s shoulders, and his legs wrapped around Jared’s waist, he holds on for dear life. He forgets about breathing, and talking and his fear, and whatever pain lingers. There’s just the creaking of the bed, the slap-slap-slap of Jared’s balls against his ass, the sight of the tendons in Jared’s neck looking like they’re about to spring out of his skin, Jared’s voice babbling incoherently, the overwhelming feeling of something too big, and too strong and too damn good filling his body, until he can’t... he can’t anymore! It’s too much. It’s-
Jared’s hand forces its way in between their bodies and grabs hold of Jensen’s dick, jerking frantically, and that’s it, he’s done. Jensen cries out as he comes so hard the whole world goes white. He can hear Jared chanting, “Ohgodohgodohgod,” as he jerks his hips frantically, then everything goes absolutely quiet for one second, before Jared gasps, and shudders and finally collapses, crushing Jensen beneath him.
This would be the perfect time to panic, Jensen’s brain reminds him, but it’s so absent from the rest of his body he more or less ignores the suggestion. He does make a weak attempt of pushing Jared away when the significant weight pressing down on him proves to be a major obstacle for breathing. Too weak apparently, because Jared doesn’t move an inch. Okay, now he's panicking.
“Umph,” Jared mumbles sleepily in protest, when Jensen flails and hits him on the ear, then suddenly he jerks awake and rolls away so fast he almost falls off the bed. The abrupt extraction has Jensen gasping in pain while choking on much needed air. Oh Jesus!
“Sorry, sorry!”
Jensen’s too busy trying to breathe to answer. It’s not working. Too shallow inhales, hardly any exhales, head getting exceedingly dizzy... Chest hurts. Head hurts. He hurts... Oh shit. No! Go away!
“Breathe,” Jared says gently, stroking his chest. “Come on. Dude, you’re not dying until we’ve done that a least five more times.”
The kid whimpers in Jensen’s head, so loud he can’t help echoing it. Jared goes instantly still by his side. There’s a long pause, then Jared starts talking, his voice so low Jensen can hardly hear it over the pounding of blood in his ears.
“No. You tell the kid to fuck off, you hear me? I’m not having him in my bed ever again. Jensen, can you hear me? Tell him!”
“Fuck. Off,” Jensen gasps. “Go! I. Don’t. Fucking. Need. You.”
“Because you’ve got me now.”
“I’ve. Got. Jared,” he agrees through gritted teeth.
“That’s right. So get lost, kiddo.”
Slowly but surely the pressure eases. Jensen opens his eyes. Jared is gazing down at him. He’s smiling. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” Jensen croaks. He clears his throat. “Sorry. He panicked.”
“No,” Jared says gently. “You panicked.”
Jensen swallows. He nods. “I panicked. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Never apologize for that.” Jared runs his hand through Jensen’s sweat-soaked hair, fingers warm and soothing against his scalp. “Guess what? We just had sex.”
Jensen coughs a laugh. Suddenly he feels amazing! Okay, so his ass stings like a motherfucker, and his whole body aches, and his throat feels raw, and his chest still hurts a little, and he thinks he banged his head into the wall at one point, and, ow! Guess he did bite his tongue.
Still... He feels fucking awesome! And tired. So damn tired. He’s just gonna close his eyes for a little while...
Chapter 16 | Epilogue