Fic: Gunpoint. AU RPS. Jensen/Jared. Epilogue
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
Epilogue
The Black Bean looks the same as always, with the lunch crowd slowly thinning, and the usual, tired-looking students slouching in their regular corners, the smell of freshly brewed coffee seeming the only thing keeping them awake. Still, that doesn’t mean anything.
“Where’s Jensen?” Jared asks, not bothering with hellos.
“Back room,” Chris snaps, jerking his head over his shoulder. “Please take him off my hands.”
Jared clenches his jaw and prepares for the worse. True, they haven’t had a serious fallback in months, but Jensen’s been so damn edgy lately with planning the whole art program - hardly sleeping, and living on coffee and little else - that it’s a miracle how well he’s been holding up. A few panic attacks, some temper tantrums, and one flashback episode that had him knocked out in bed for the rest of the day, but other than that he’s mostly just bad tempered and tired.
Jared opens the door to the back room slowly, in case Jensen is in the easily spooked stage, and finds Jensen sitting by the small table, hunched over his notebook. He looks up when Jared steps into the room, and although his eyes look slightly manic there’s no trace of fear or confusion in them. “Hey,” he says, smiling tiredly. “What are you doing here?”
The voice is low but clear, the words flow without effort, easily constructing whole sentences. Huh. Jared leans over to kiss him, laying a palm gently on Jensen’s neck. The skin is warm but dry, and his heartbeat seems normal.
“Chris called me,” Jared says slowly, not sure what’s going on, “asking me to please take you home. I thought you had an episode.”
Jensen looks confused for a moment, but then he rolls his eyes, scowling in annoyance. “Fucking asshole. I’m fine,” he says, straightening up and squaring his shoulders with a low groan. “Tell him to mind his own fucking business.” He rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, shoulders already slumping again.
Ah.
Jared shakes his head and takes Jensen’s notebook, closing it and sticking it in his bag, then grabs a sputtering Jensen by the shoulders and heaves him to his feet.
“Come on, you’re done for the day. Better yet, stop obsessing! You’re fine, it’s gonna be great. The lesson plan is good, the financial plan has already been approved, the grant came through... Everything is ready. You’re ready.”
“But...”
“No. Chris is right. You keep this up you really are gonna have another episode. You don’t want to be knocked out at your own grand opening, do you?”
“It’s not a ‘grand opening’,” Jensen mutters, but he doesn’t put up a fight when Jared hands him his jacket. “It’s just the first day.”
“Dude, just because your students are tiny doesn’t mean it’s not grand,” Jared says with a smile, slinging one arm over Jensen’s shoulders. “Come on, stop worrying. It’s gonna be great, I’m telling you. And once they’ve all run home on their tiny little legs, telling their parents how amazing you were, and what a good time they had, I’m gonna take you home and show you how amazing I think you are by showing you a good time.”
Jensen snorts but Jared can feel the back of his neck heat up under his arm. He drags Jensen with him out of the back room, giving Chris a scowl and a push on the shoulder for scaring him without reason, as they squeeze by.
“It was an emergency for me!” Chris yells after them as they head for the door. “He was drinking all my coffee and scaring away costumers with his crazy mumbling.”
Jensen flips him the finger, looking annoyed, but as soon as they’re outside he grins and pushes Jared up against the window, kissing him until Chris starts banging on the glass with his fist, telling them to take their gay asses home, before he calls the police.
It’s a short walk to the apartment, but by the time they get there Jensen is already looking wiped out, leaning against Jared in a way that makes it obvious it’s more about staying upright than being close. Once inside they hang their jackets by the door, the space looking weirdly empty without Chris’s things, then make their way between the boxes that have yet to be picked up. Just a few more days, and all of Jared’s exams will be over, Sophia’s soon to-be-ex-roommate will have moved out, making space for Chris to move in, and, hopefully, Jensen’s art program will have launched, without him having a heart attack.
The sign-up sheet filled up on both sides within hours of Jensen hanging it up at the Bean, and for the next few days people just kept adding their kids’ names to scraps of paper and napkins when they ran out of space. Up until then Jensen had been pretty laid back about the whole thing - stressed yes, but not overly so. The plan had been to have two-hour classes three times a week for a small group of kids, ages six to twelve. He’d made a loose schedule, and a half-assed lesson plan, and figured he’d wing the rest, it couldn’t be that much different from his regular Thursday sessions. The unexpected (on his part, not Jared’s, not really) interest pretty much threw his whole plan out the window and consequently freaked him the fuck out. He’d been spending every free moment - and most of his busy ones as well - since then, making new plans and schedules, never satisfied with any of them and convinced he was going to screw everything up.
“Your fault!” he’d yelled at Jared a few weeks ago after sweeping all the paperwork off the kitchen table, his pupils wide, and hands shaking with too much caffeine. “This whole thing was your stupid idea!”
“Uh no,” Jared had pointed out, feeling pretty freaked out himself. “You wanted to do it. You want to do it. You can do it. Just stop stressing so much!”
“I can’t, I can’t do this. I can’t...”
Jensen had staggered back, and Jared had only just managed to catch him before he hit the floor.
That had been his third panic attack that week, and it had made Jared seriously consider drugging him unconscious until the opening day. The other option was to blow the whole thing off, but every time Jared thought it couldn’t be worth all this hassle he remembered how excited Jensen had been in the beginning, how much he wanted this.
After talking it over with Chris, Jared brought in Sophia - without asking Jensen, because he’d known Jensen would never agree to it. This was his baby, and he was stubborn enough to want to do everything himself, even if he was going nowhere fast. Sophia had an excellent business plan ready within a day, as well as having drawn up suggestions for the groups, divided on different days of the week, all of which she presented to a hostile looking Jensen.
“Since you’re only doing weekdays it has to be after school, which gives you only a few hours per day. The younger ones can’t be too late in the day because then they’ll be too tired to pay attention. And the younger they are, the fewer you can have in each group, unless you get an assistant. Which you really need to do anyway, preferably a female one. That’s for your own protection as much as for the kids,” she continued when Jensen made to object. “Parents are always wary of leaving their children alone with a man. I don't have to have to tell you why. It has nothing to do with you personally, Jensen, so stop glaring at me. It’s just the way it is.”
Once Jensen got over feeling offended, he’d had to admit her ideas were good, and her plan seemed more likely to success than his own. That didn’t keep him from obsessing over every little detail, constantly tweaking the numbers and trying out different schedules but grudgingly always coming back to her original ones. Jared thinks it has less to do with him being actually worried and more to do with his resentment at needing help, which is why now, less than a week from the “grand opening”, Jensen is still looking for ways to make the whole thing his and only his. Jared has long since given up on arguing with him. He figures once they’re past the first week Jensen will move on and forget all about it.
“I need a shower,” Jensen sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. It leaves it sticking up in all directions, so Jared is inclined to agree with him, even if he secretly loves it when Jensen smells like Jensen instead of soap. Even better when the smell is a mix of coffee, paint and Jensen. They’re still working on that whole clean freak issue, as well as some other minor things, but he’s a lot more relaxed when it comes to hygiene than the man Jared met less than a year ago, sometimes even going a whole day without showering.
Jared orders pizza while the shower runs, figuring they’re both too tired to make anything. It arrives just as Jensen is toweling off in the living room, offering the flustered delivery boy a nice view of his naked ass. Jared would accuse him of doing it on purpose - he’s still an inconsiderate asshole half the time - but the blank expression tells him Jensen is probably miles away, either still calculating in his head or just spacing out. Sure enough, when Jared tells him to come grab a plate, he looks up, clearly surprised that the food has already arrived.
“No more planning. Just eating and watching TV,” Jared says firmly, once they’re both seated in front of the screen with food and beer.
Jensen waves his hand absently, either in agreement or objection, his face is too worn out to tell. He tends to go quiet when he’s tired, falling back on old ways as if the act of talking still challenges him. And it does, there are times - moments though rather than hours or days, like before - when his throat closes up, and it’s like nothing has changed. Jared can see the fear in Jensen’s eyes every time that happens, like he’s still scared that his voice will disappear, maybe this time for good.
Thankfully his writing has improved immensely, even if it’s still hardly legible. That has more to do with lack of practice for the last decade than any mental issues though. In fact Jensen's handwriting resembles Jared’s own at the age of ten. Jensen’s actually quite good at spelling now his brain has stopped messing with it. He keeps a small notebook in his pocket, in case of muteness, but lately its pages have more drawings on them than words, and Jared believes it’s only a matter of time before Jensen stops needing it altogether.
He’s careful not to get his hopes up too high despite of all that. Things might be better but they’re not, nor will they ever be, completely “normal”.
Jensen might not need to shower twice a day anymore (even if he almost always does) but that one time Jared forgot to put on deodorant and tried to hug him after a hot, sweaty day, he almost got his nose bashed in by Jensen's panicked fists. Loud sudden noises scare the shit out of him, small spaces have him hyperventilating. He gets nightmares, sometimes so violent he wets the bed. And even if he does like bottoming, he more times chooses to top because he can’t get over his fear of the kid showing up and taking over.
Jensen still calls him ‘the kid’, like they’re separate beings, and boy, does he hate that kid’s guts. Dr. Ferris thinks (and Jared silently agrees with her) that Jensen needs to accept that part of himself, even show it some compassion, instead of resenting it so much, but Jensen refuses to even consider it. To him his alter younger ego is a parasite that feeds on memories it won’t even share with its older self. He sees no reason to show compassion for it, even if it’s a child. It’s the weirdest kind of self-hatred Jared’s ever heard of.
A muffled sound makes Jared look over, and sure enough; Jensen’s head is tilted back, mouth open on a snore, a half-eaten slice of pizza slowly slipping out of his slack hand. Jared removes it carefully and puts it on the plate on the table. It’s only seven o’clock, which means chances are Jensen will wake up in a couple of hours with a crick in his neck, either grumpy or horny, depending on how good his nap was. Jared finishes his own slice then pulls Jensen down to lay his head on his lap. He smiles when Jensen mutters in his sleep and buries his face in Jared’s crotch. Maybe not grumpy, this time.
He dozes off himself after a while, not surprisingly since the last few weeks have been hectic. He’s only got one exam left, a pretty easy one. At least easy enough that he’s not feeling too guilty about taking a night off. Well, okay, maybe a little guilty, because he starts dreaming about being lost on campus, unable to find the room his exam is supposed to be in. He’s about to panic, when the dream suddenly changes, and he’s at the pool he used to frequent back home in Texas when he was a kid, happily rushing down the water-slide. It’s nice and warm and wet and...
His eyes spring open. Okay, that is not a dream.
He groans, fingers grabbing hold of Jensen’s hair. Jesus, it’s not fair how good Jensen is at this. He knows just when to put the right pressure in the right places, knows when to suck and when to lick and when to just open wide so Jared can fuck into his mouth. And when he swallows Jared down, so far his nose buries in Jared’s curls, it’s so incredibly good. Oh God.
“I’m gonna...” Jared gasps in warning, trying to pull back, but Jensen just grabs his wrist and presses the hand to the top of his head, telling him to hold on. Then he swallows, Adam’s apple sliding under the head of Jared’s cock, squeezing it and... Jesus fucking Christ, he’s done. His toes curl, and his mouth falls open, and his hips shoot forward without him meaning to. Jensen doesn’t fight it, he just swallows again, milking drop after drop down his throat, his eyes closed in bliss. He doesn’t relent until Jared starts whimpering and pushing at Jensen’s head, begging him to lay off. Even then he only backs off a little, keeping Jared’s cock in his mouth and massaging it gently with his tongue, though soon even that becomes too much.
“Stop. You’re gonna kill me,” Jared slurs. His brain is half-way between sleep and awake, his bones melted into goo. He could fall asleep right here.
Jensen hums and gives him a last lick before sitting back, eyes heated and a wicked smile on his lips. He raises one eyebrow suggestively.
“Nuhuh, if we’re gonna do that I need the bed,” Jared mumbles and staggers to his feet, pulling Jensen along with him. “Just wake me up when you’re done,” he adds jokingly as he falls face first on the mattress, jeans around his knees.
He expects Jensen to elbow him awake, but instead he finds himself being undressed, jeans and underwear pulled down his legs and tossed on the floor, and his knees pushed apart. The t-shirt stays but is pushed up to his armpits. He struggles to get up on all fours, but Jensen shushes him, stroking down his spine, until he relaxes, his brain returning to its half-comatose state. He wakes up a little when something cold touches his entrance, but as soon as Jensen’s fingers heat it up he’s out again. It feels a little like floating, his head empty of thought, and his limbs like liquid. When the first finger pushes slowly inside he sighs happily, just to let Jensen know that whatever he wants to do, it’s okay, in fact it’s more than fine. He still feels loose since this morning, and there are few things he loves more than Jensen fucking him. Even if he’s barely conscious when it’s happening.
He allows his brain to take a vacation and just lies there compliant, small moans and whimpers the only indication that he’s aware of what’s going on. Suddenly Jensen’s fingers slip out, but Jared doesn’t even have time to miss them before Jensen’s cock is being slowly pushed into him. He sighs a drawn-out moan as he’s filled, inch by inch. They don’t usually do it this slowly, and it makes Jared wonder if Jensen feels guilty or weird for doing it like this, without Jared’s active participation.
“Okay?” Jensen asks, sounding slightly breathless, and Jared musters up just enough energy to nod and murmur a happy sound that has Jensen laughing softly. Jared smiles, he loves making Jensen laugh and, with sex still being a pretty big deal between them, hearing Jensen laugh during is even sweeter.
The smile slips away and his mouth goes slack with the first shallow thrust. God, it’s good. So, so good. He grunts which encourages Jensen to go deeper but it’s still so slow and gentle Jared starts to drift off again. Instead of hitting Jared’s prostate the way Jensen usually aims at, he barely touches it. The light, far-between bumps still jolt him, but in such a subtle way that it takes him a moment to realize they’re actually driving him insane.
“More,” he moans and tries to push back, but instead of picking up speed Jensen presses his chest down on Jared’s back, keeping him still with his weight. Then resumes sliding in and out, slow and lazy, like he’s got all the time in the world.
“Bastard,” Jared mumbles although it sounds more like, “Bsta,” since he doesn’t have the energy to actually form the word. Jensen seems to get it anyway, because he laughs and kisses Jared on the ear then nuzzles into his neck, licking up the sweat that’s starting to gather at the base of his skull. “Fuck,” Jared groans.
It goes on like that for a while, until Jared suddenly finds himself in the middle of a dream, a really weird one where Chris and Chad are sitting on the couch, watching them fuck and providing less than complimentary commentary. He’s about to tell them to shut up and get the hell out, when a sudden hard thrust jerks him awake. Jensen is groaning, his breathing getting heavier and his movements more erratic. Suddenly it’s like he can’t hold back any more. He grabs Jared by the hips and pulls him up to his knees, fucking into him hard and deep, faster and faster, until he comes with a guttural shout and slumps forward, shaking and shivering, crashing Jared back to the mattress under his weight.
“Good?” Jared murmurs, pawing awkwardly behind him with one hand and accidentally smacking Jensen’s butt. Jensen hums but doesn’t bother answering; no surprise, he’s never had much patience for stupid questions. “How long was I out?” Jared adds after a while, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Who falls asleep during sex?
“Dunno. Five minutes maybe.” Jensen’s voice is barely audible, all rough with sex and exhaustion.
“Sorry.”
“’S allright,” Jensen mumbles. “Was hot.”
“Fucking a dead guy?” Jared asks with a laugh. “You into necrophilia now?”
Jensen rolls off, groaning when his dick pulls loose. He collapses beside Jared, then rolls over and slings one arm over his waist, nuzzling into Jared’s neck. “Fucking you sleeping,” he corrects sleepily then coughs, as if embarrassed. “Kinda been wanting to do that.”
“Kinky bastard,” Jared teases and feels Jensen’s face heat up against his neck. “Well, feel free to sleepfuck me anytime. In fact, we should make it our Sunday morning special. Then I can sleep in and you're not as grumpy when you get up.”
Jensen snorts but doesn't even try to deny his morning attitude problem.
Jared yawns, and just like that his eyes fall shut. However much he wants to he just can’t open them again. He can hear Jensen mumbling something about brushing teeth and cleaning up, but by the time he realizes Jensen’s probably talking about him, he’s already dreaming again. Thankfully, this time, there’s no audience.
--------
“Tie?”
Jensen rolls his eyes even if Jared can’t see him, since he’s got his back turned. “No.” Where is that damn shirt his mother gave him last Christmas? He’s pretty sure he kept it. Right?
“How about a bowtie? Bowties are cool. Eccentric.” When Jensen shoots him a glare over his shoulder, Jared frowns and nods solemnly. “You’re right. You’re eccentric enough as it is.”
Jensen snorts. “Fuck you.”
“Later. How about this?”
Jensen turns around, ready to shoot down whatever ridiculous fashion idea Jared is suggesting this time, but stops short. Jared is wearing a hopeful but nervous grin. On his upturned palm sits a small open box with a pendant, shining silvery against black velvet.
Jensen stares at it, stunned. “You bought me a butterfly,” he finally says, voice a little hoarse.
“A very manly butterfly,” Jared says hurriedly. “See? It’s solid steel, all heavy and, and... stuff.” He shifts on his feet, teeth nibbling at one corner of his mouth. “I thought... Well, that painting you made... You know? With the window, and the...” He looks away, face turning red. “This was a stupid idea.”
“No,” Jensen says, swallowing. “No, it’s, it’s perfect.”
Jared glances at him suspiciously. “Really?”
“Yes.” He steps forward, reaching out, then changes his mind and turns around, bowing his head. “Please?”
There’s a moment of silence, before Jared steps up behind him. He shivers when the cold metal settles on his chest, right at the top of his sternum, shivers even further at the touch of Jared’s fingers at the back of his neck, closing the clasp. “There.”
He turns sideways, finding his reflection in the small mirror above the dresser. Jared watches him in the mirror as he breathes in, then breathes out; the weight of the butterfly growing lighter with every breath. “Wow.”
“Yeah?” Jared says quietly, stepping up closer behind him.
He nods. “Yes.” His eyes slide up, meeting Jared’s in the mirror. “Thank you.”
Jared wraps his arms around Jensen’s middle, chin coming down to rest on his shoulder. They stand like that for a while, just gazing at each other in the mirror. When Jensen turns his head, Jared meets him halfway. The kiss is awkward and crooked and perfect, and when it ends they’re both a little out of breath.
“Thank you,” Jensen repeats and turns in Jared’s arms, so he can face him. “It’s...” He stops, all out of words, and instead just smiles.
Jared smiles back, kisses him quickly and turns to the dresser. “I vote for the tight jeans that make your ass look great, and the black t-shirt that shows off your macho muscles.”
Jensen laughs. “Dude, they’re kids. I should not be showing off my anything. Besides,” he adds, accepting the jeans from Jared’s insistent hand, “my ass always looks great.”
“Of course it does, dear,” Jared says sweetly then quickly jumps out of reach when Jensen tries to smack him. “And who’s talking about the kids? I told you I’d be there, right behind you.” His eyebrows wiggle in a way that is probably supposed to be sexy but just looks ridiculous. “Get it? Behind you.”
Jensen shakes his head, laughing softly as he pulls the t-shirt over his head. The pendant sits on the sun-freckled skin right at the bottom of the v. It looks pretty damn good. And, you know, so gay. (It’s a butterfly! Even a ton of steel can’t make a butterfly look 'manly'. Not that he’ll ever tell Jared that. And, well, he is gay so... Whatever, bottom line is he likes butterflies. And this one is beautiful.)
“Also,” Jared adds casually as he pulls on a jacket, “once the class is done, I thought I’d take my boyfriend out to dinner. You know, to celebrate. Make him show off that nice ass and all those macho muscles.”
“Is that so?” Jensen says with a grin.
“Yep. Just long enough to make everyone jealous and horny, and then I’m gonna take him home and fuck him ‘til he can’t see straight.”
Jensen chokes on his breath.
“That sound good to you?” Jared asks, eyes suddenly gone dark.
Jensen nods, licking his lips. Damn, these jeans are pretty tight.
“Right,” Jared says and takes a deep breath. “Ready?”
Jensen glances into the hall mirror, straightens the collar of his jacket and brushes a stray hair off his shoulder. Then he reaches for Jared’s hand. Their fingers slide together, palms clasp.
“Yes,” he says and smiles. “Let’s go.”
Fin
Chapter 17 | Author's notes