Get No Harder [part three]
part three.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Jared stops dead in the dirt and stares. Jensen can't even smile at the sheer levels of outrage on his face, because Jared's right-it's unbelievable and it sucks.
Jensen says, "Gerry told me he could come out later to give us a hand, but..."
But they're going to need more than 'a hand' to fix the now-mangled hub of one of the solid-set irrigation systems.
"Did it explode or something?"
"Not sure," Jensen says, crouching down to look at a piece of pipe laying at the outer edge of the mess. "Gerry said there was a pressure back up and without a release, this all broke down. It was the oldest unit on the property."
"This is way above my pay grade," Jared mutters, and Jensen laughs.
"You get paid?"
"Shut up."
They have nowhere else to start but at the beginning, scooping up a jigsaw-mess of busted pipe and metal fittings. The job gets harder as they circle towards the hub; bigger pieces and more effort to move them. Jensen forgot to shave this morning and the sweat gathers along his jaw, under his chin. He stops to wipe his face every few minutes, considering the pile of rubble they're building.
Just past noon, Jared flings his gloves on the ground, panting.
"Fuck, I've gotta stop."
They're not nearly done, but Jensen pauses. He's already dreading telling Gerry that this job's beyond him. No one short of a pro is going to be able to fix it; the best Jensen can do is clean up and salvage as many parts as he can.
Breath caught, Jared says, "Let's go grab something to eat and then-"
"I'm gonna stay."
"What?"
Jared's halfway to the truck, twisting his spine to look back.
"You go," Jensen says. "I'll keep working."
"You've gotta take a break, man. This mess won't be worse when we get back, I promise."
"Look, Jared, I said go."
The words sound harsher than Jensen intends; Jared's expression rolls ominously.
"You know what? Fine, I'm out. Since you insist, you can finish by yourself." Jared pivots and yanks open the Chevy's passenger door. Water in hand, hat on his head, he starts back in the direction of the house-a considerable walk. "It was only lunch, seriously."
His stride is determined, and by the time Jensen thinks to stop him, he's out of sight.
Jensen exhales. He's barely been able to think since he showed up this morning, thrown right into the irrigation disaster. Jared had come out to work, not a word about his disappearance yesterday. No time to press for an explanation before they were ankle deep in soaked dirt and busted parts.
Too late to go after Jared, Jensen methodically collects debris, separating usable parts from scrap.
More than an hour later, Jared rolls up in his father's truck, mud splattered down the length of the running board and in the wheel wells. Jensen's exhausted but he stands as straight as he can, braced like he's waiting for a Midwest storm.
Jared's face is thunderous.
Jensen masters his surprise; he'd expected a repeat of yesterday's vanishing act.
"Stop staring," Jared snaps.
"I just didn't think you'd be back."
"Whatever." He gives Jensen his back, grabbing his hat from the driver's seat and speaking curtly. "I brought an extra sandwich. I'll eat it if you don't."
"Thanks," Jensen says, doubly surprised, but Jared's angry facade doesn't crack. "Are you-"
Jared cuts off Jensen's question with his own. "Can we just get through this? It's gonna suck so bad anyway. Let's just finish."
As far as brush-offs go, Jared's is brusque and cold but Jensen's mouth quirks in a half-smile. Seeing the farmer's son so serious about work can't be anything but funny. But Jared catches the look and scowls, corners of his mouth drawn down deeply.
Jensen almost starts laughing on the spot.
"Are you helping or not?" Jared asks, arms folded tightly across his broad chest.
Jensen flashes Jared his most sober smile and gets back to work.
~~~
The sky is wide open above Jensen's head, sunlight bleeding out to leave a massive, blank canvas. Not yet dark enough for stars, but Jensen's not the type to lose himself in looking up.
Instead he looks over, Jared slouched back on the other side of the Ram's tailgate. His stare is absent, far away from Jensen and the empty dirt lane their trucks are parked on. Jensen half-wants to be wherever Jared's gone, but sitting here-Jared slowly draining a beer, Jensen with coffee-isn't a bad consolation.
They'd worked hard the rest of the day, conversation kept to a minimum. Jensen had been ready to drop when they finished, but Jared, with his crooked back and careful stride, muttered something about getting a drink and Jensen had automatically followed.
Jared drops his empty bottle over the side of the truck; Jensen hears it hit the dirt and roll. He pops his third with the opener on his keyring.
Jensen's too tired to worry about the alcohol or the effect it'll have on Jared. Jared's eyelids linger on the way up-he won't make it all the way through his six-pack. And he hasn't said a word yet, neither one of them has, content to let the evening roll by as they come down from an intense day.
Halfway through his beer, Jared says, "I heard about the job."
Jensen swallows a mouthful of decaf.
"I was wondering if you'd say anything."
"So you're definitely gonna do it, huh?"
"What d'you want me to say? Jensen asks. His filters are gone, worked down to nothing over the course of the afternoon. "I've earned this. It's a good chance for me."
Jared pulls his lower lip between his teeth, stares hard at the brown bottle sliding through his fingers.
"I've gotta head back to school in, like, a week," Jared says out of nowhere. "I thought-nevermind."
Jensen sets his Thermos to the side, tempted by the three chilled bottles left in Jared's cooler. He knew Jared had to leave at some point and up until a few weeks ago, Jensen never imagined he'd feel so strongly about it. His old life rarely gave him people to miss or times when goodbyes meant something. Jensen wants to wash down the bitterness but he keeps his hands still; Jared can't catch the fine tremors in the darkness.
"What were you gonna say?"
Jared sighs, says, "It'll sound crazy."
"I can take crazy, remember?"
Stalling, Jared finishes his beer and tosses the bottle. Jensen makes a mental note to pick them up tomorrow.
"Jared-"
"I thought you might want to go to Florida with me, okay?"
Jensen hadn't made a list, but this would have been the last thing he expected to hear.
"You'll have the job here," Jared goes on, sharp-edged words from tight lips. "I get that it means a lot to you so I wasn't gonna ask. But, you know, I thought about it."
"Why?" Jensen blurts it out.
"Seriously?" Jared stares at him. "I guess I thought we were getting along pretty well and I didn't want to lose that." Before Jensen can jump in, Jared goes on. "But you sort of belong here."
"I've never belonged anywhere," Jensen argues softly. "I don't have any roots holding me to one place, so I should be able to say yes-"
"Yeah," Jared scoffs. "You try telling my dad you have no roots here."
Jensen has no comeback for that.
Silence takes them both. Jared reaches for another beer but he doesn't pop the top, absentmindedly dragging his thumbs through the condensation. Darker now, Jensen's eyes adjust to take in the details of Jared's body: the focused stare on his angled face, tight line of his shoulders. His jittery fingers need an outlet for nervous energy, picking at his beer label.
Jensen sees all of this but has no idea what Jared's thinking, and he decides not to wait anymore.
"What do you see in me?"
"Huh?" Jared waits for more and when he doesn't get it, he sighs. "I thought I told you this."
"You told me you needed me," Jensen says and even in the dark, he can see Jared's cheeks flush. "But I want to know why. Jared-" he fumbles, "I'm empty. I can't give you anything."
Jared drums his fingers on the bottle, putting his words together while Jensen worries he said too much.
"You know," Jared starts, "no one's ever stuck with me as long as you have, and I never cared before because I was only looking out for myself. I'm not saying that I'm completely unselfish now, but I care about you and I care what you think about me.
"Now I've gotta go back to school and yeah, I'm selfish, because I wanted you there with me," Jared continues. "I know you won't let me dick around and you'll make me work so I can fuckin' graduate already. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do that without you."
Jensen's voice is so soft he can barely hear his own words.
"What am I to you?"
"You're my friend," Jared says without hesitating. "And I want you around."
Jensen spent twenty-eight years making mistakes, and he's spent the last six months trying not to make any more. Cornered behind the garage at Gerry's birthday party, Jensen thought Jared was going to be the mistake that ruined everything.
He'd been wrong.
Jared shakes his bangs away from his forehead, wincing at the pull in his neck; Jensen's nursing the same aches.
"Christ," Jared mutters. "What a fuckin' day. I didn't meant to get all-" he raises his palm in a vague gesture, "-on you. I just can't believe my summer's almost over."
"No more early mornings," Jensen offers, and Jared's face twists.
"Don't, man. I was just getting used to being here, you know?"
Jensen says nothing but he knows. Jared had stuck out so glaringly to begin with, but he'd blended into the landscape and into Jensen's daily life. The dirtier his clothing got, the more Jared belonged, bringing the force of his personality with him. His sour mood that turned on and off like a sprinkler to soak Jensen's peace and quiet. Jared's smile, able to break through the clouds but never one hundred percent honest, as if he were keeping a piece of himself isolated and safe. Different than his father who gave it all whether he was grinning or frowning.
Jensen's having a tough time imagining the Padalecki farm without Jared. He pulls his feet up, dirt trailing from the soles of his shoes, and rests his elbows on his knees.
"I wish-"
The words struggle past Jensen's lips, sound so strange to his own ears. He can't remember the last time he wished out loud for anything.
Jared's looking over, eyes strikingly sober.
"I wish I could go back with you," Jensen finishes.
"Yeah?" Jared laughs softly. "Don't worry, I get it. I wouldn't up and leave for me either." He finally opens the bottle he's been fidgeting with for so long, pressing it roughly to his lips and taking a long swallow.
"Hey-" Jensen waits for Jared to put the beer down, meeting his eyes when he does. "That's not what I meant. There are things I just can't do. I wish I could because it's you who's asking."
"Aw, Jensen, how do you really feel about me?" Jared asks like he's telling a joke without a punchline, hurt cowering in his voice.
Jensen watches him carefully. Jared's eyes plead him to answer but his expression knows better. The defensiveness-the expectation of being left to loneliness all over again-is like looking in a mirror.
"That hard, huh?"
Jensen wasn't ready to give Jared an answer; he sighs, defeated. Jared's downing the rest of his beer like it'll quench his emotions, and the moment's gone.
"Look," Jensen says after Jared flings that bottle out of the truck to join the others. "It's been a rough day. Let's just go back."
Jared doesn't need to be convinced. As soon as Jensen carefully lowers himself out of the truckbed, Jared stumbles off and climbs in the driver's seat.
"You okay getting-"
"I'll be fine," Jared says. His posture collapses once he's behind the wheel, tone meeker. "See you tomorrow, okay?"
Nodding, Jensen waits next to the Chevy as Jared starts his truck, turns around in the narrow drive and heads back.
The Padalecki's Ram isn't there when Jensen drives up in front of the house. Under the porch lights, Jensen spots Emmett's stocky form standing right next to Gerry on the house steps. The two men stop talking and wave when they see Jensen.
He calls out the window, "Did Jared come by here?"
"He pulled up for a second," Gerry says, Emmett nodding along with him. "Said he was heading into town for a few drinks."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Emmett answers, patting Gerry on the shoulder and stepping out onto the driveway. "I'm headed that way now to catch up with everyone. You wanna go with me?"
Jensen shakes his head, makes sure his smile is friendly.
"Nah, I had a hell of a day."
"I heard," Emmett says. "Well, if you change your mind, the gang'll be at Hickory."
When Emmett steps away, Jensen's left staring at Gerry. The farmer hasn't moved from the porch, hands tucked in loose pockets, and he calls across the quiet night.
"You boys okay? Jared rolled outta here like someone lit a fire under him."
"Like I said," Jensen explains, "it was a hard day."
"I know that." Gerry's wrinkles deepen in the low light. "All the more reason to take a break and get a good night's sleep."
"I'm planning on it," Jensen says, adding a fake yawn around his words. He wrestles the Chevy into gear. "I'll see you around in the morning, Gerry."
~~~
Jensen's heart beats back the night, pulse pounding in his ears. He tosses well past midnight, body aching in too many places, rolls and smothers himself in the sheets until his face is squashed in the pillow.
His mind is far away from dreaming, knowing his time with Jared is running out, and he can't make the most of it. He can't even explain to Jared how this summer made coming back to life worthwhile. It's impossible to fit such a massive idea into words, never mind the right ones.
He should have tried instead of letting Jared sulk away. Mystery's appeal is overrated-Jared can only try so many times for Jensen's attention-and Jensen doesn't blame him for walking off. Seeing the imminent collapse on Jared's face left Jensen numb, a feeling he's tried to avoid after spending years senseless or high.
In his old life, Jensen would have brushed off Jared's affection, the feelings he stuttered through on that empty dirt lane. Justified by thinking he didn't deserve them, or that Jared was insane for bothering in the first place. This Jensen wants it all. He intends to keep it, no matter what that takes.
Just as soon as he gets some sleep.
Jensen flops onto his back, losing half the covers. Dry, cooler air hits his feet and he finally relaxes. He wonders, in the moments before he loses his grip on the night, which version of Jared is going to be waiting in the morning.
If he's waiting at all.
~~~
The sharp rap of knuckles on wood startles Jensen; he cranes his neck and sees Gerry grinning down at him.
"You're doing some heavy thinkin' there," the farmer says, friendly voice paired with an equally cheerful red and yellow plaid shirt. "How's lunch?"
Jensen swallows the last of his sandwich, made and packed with Pam's usual care.
"I know it's early but I was starving," he replies. "Couldn't wait, and I was over here anyway." Here being the Padalecki's front porch, Jensen's legs sprawled out, ass on the steps. His Saturday's getting off to a slow start, aches and exhaustion sticking around throughout the morning. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not. I thought you mighta been coming to haul Jared out of bed."
"He's still sleeping?" Jensen's not really surprised, but he is jealous.
"I don't think he came back 'til two or three. Thought he only behaved like that down at school." Gerry scratches at one of the porch beams with his thumbnail. "You're welcome to go up there and give 'im hell if you want."
"I might," Jensen says, planning something much different.
Gerry thunks down the steps. The hand he lowers towards Jensen jangles.
"Meant to give you these before my trip." He drops the ring of keys into Jensen's palm, metal sun-warm and grounding. "Now you won't need to hunt me down every time."
Gerry walks away before Jensen can find his feet, whistling nonsense in the same cheery tone. Jensen's fingers wrap around the thick keys-a duplicate of Gerry's master set-and knows, with a shocking amount of clarity, what he needs to do.
The Padalecki's house is mostly quiet, filled with a low thrum of sound from the work going on outside. Jensen's steps creak and groan all the way up the stairs and to Jared's bedroom door.
He knocks with no answer, twists the knob and walks in, taking a few seconds to absorb Jared's space.
There is more personality in a single square foot of his bedroom than in Jensen's entire garage apartment: photos of a skinny, shorter-haired Jared placed in black frames on the dresser-top, a varsity letter dotted with gold pins surrounded by high school certificates all tacked to a bulletin board, bright posters of exotic beaches and famous athletes, and a twisted pile of sheets on the double bed.
The pile appears to be breathing.
Jensen steps further in and whispers, "Jared?"
The twisted mound heaves and one tan arm emerges, waving vaguely at the door.
"Le' me sleep," Jensen hears and he grins, moving up to drag the sheets away from Jared's shoulders, saying, "Not a chance."
Jared flails, keeping his face buried in the pillow, and makes a haphazard grab for the blankets.
"Not fuckin' cool, dude."
Jensen lets go and Jared burrows, never letting sunlight near his eyes. Avoiding Jared's akimbo limbs, Jensen sits on an empty corner of the bed and lets Jared think he's won this round.
The room, for all its personality, doesn't fit the Jared he knows now. Too much nostalgia and not enough substance-this hasn't been Jared's home in a long time, Jensen imagines. Two extra-large duffel bags are spilling out of Jared's open closet, neither one full, but Jensen looks away, back to Jared's buried shape.
Jensen's words won't wait-and Jared's breathing is too rapid to mean he's fallen back asleep-so he lets them go.
"Gerry gave me a full set of keys," he says, noting when the mountain on Jared's bed goes still. "It made me feel like I was a real part of this place, not just summer help, you know?"
He doesn't expect an answer; for Jensen, it's almost easier to think that Jared's not listening.
"I haven't had that feeling in a really long time." Jensen's fingers separate the keys on the large metal ring. He has no idea what they all go to, but he'll find out. "I've never been able to stick around, not that I ever wanted to before working here, and I'm not ready to leave.
"I meant it when I said I wish I could go with you. You'll never know...I mean, I don't want you to know what my old life was like, and yeah, it wasn't Florida, but it's too close to-"
Jensen cuts himself off to cover any tremor in his voice. He's more exhausted now than five minutes ago, feeling pinpricks behind his eyelids. When he opens his eyes again there's a mussed mop of brown hair peeking out from beneath the blankets.
"So maybe I can't go," Jensen continues, letting the words roll off without a clear plan. "But it doesn't mean you and I just end. We could try," he offers, unable to put a name to what they have. "I don't need to tell you that being here's changed me-I thought I was empty, but that wasn't true."
Jensen sighs. "You were what I needed. I thought I'd have to choose between freedom and having something, you know, with you," Jensen admits softly. "But I never felt crushed with sympathy, and you let me have my secrets. That meant-it means a lot to me."
He stops again and all sounds drain out of the room, wonders if he's crossed a line and Jared's not ready to follow him to the other side.
"Jared, you can make it through school without me," Jensen says. "I know you're a strong guy, and maybe you've learned something this summer about pushing through whatever's thrown at you. Don't lose out because you're not invested in your own life, because I sure as hell am, now."
Jensen drops his head thinking Jared can't see him.
"So, this is where I am, and I think I know where you are...besides being under a massive pile of sheets, probably hungover, and smelling awful." Jared must laugh despite his hangover; the soft hill jostles up and down. "I've gotta get back to work, so I'll let you go back to sleep if you need to and I-I guess I'll just see you when you're feeling better."
Crossing the room in a few strides, Jensen doesn't wait to see if Jared reacts, closing the door as he goes.
Strange to be the man walking away rather than the one left behind.
His body allows him a few deep breaths when he's back on the front porch, sunlight slanting into his eyes. High clouds meander eastward and Jensen's gradually pulled back in by the rhythm of the work around him, a constant beat he's come to enjoy.
Jensen doesn't mind working on Saturdays; everyone's got a job to do, but the relationship between the task-at-hand and the workers isn't as strained. He smiles as half a dozen men walk by on their way to the main shed, shouting Jensen's name and waving. He knows their names, remembers scraps of information they've shared about their families. Jensen's been accepted in their number, getting comfortable in the diverse group.
As bumbling steps from inside the house get louder, Jensen faces out into midday and waits for the clatter of the front door swinging shut.
Jared drags himself out onto the front porch, yawning as he stands next to Jensen at the railing. He's as rumpled as his bedsheets, squinting and puffy from restless sleep. And he obviously hasn't showered if he got out here so quickly.
"I was right," Jensen says, smiling to himself and hiding his blush from Jared. "You're rank, man."
"Shut up." Jared's voice is full of grit. "You can't just do that to a guy, drop all that and leave."
"I wonder who taught me how to do that."
"Dick," Jared flings back, no real punch behind it, deepening the smirk on Jensen's face. "I've never heard you say so much at once."
"Yeah." Jensen surprises himself sometimes. His entire summer has been one personality revelation after another. "Why'd you get up?"
Jared smacks dry lips together, pulls his bottle of water up, and takes a long swallow.
"I'm supposed to be working."
Jensen can't help the wry laugh stuttering out of his mouth. Jared knows he sounds absurd and blows off Jensen's dry amusement. They stand together and stare past the porch, past the entire day toward the looming end of summer.
Jared coughs, the sound painful through his scratchy throat. He says, "Last night, after you said you couldn't come with me, I thought about staying here."
"Why?" Jensen butts in before he can keep going. "You didn't want to come here in the first place."
"Things change."
If there's anything Jensen would understand, it's the unpredictability of life, but it explains nothing.
"Just a thought, like maybe you'd want me to stay," Jared says quickly, nudging Jensen when he tries to jump in again. "I know, that's crazy. You can be here on your own, I get that. And you should stay because you want to and it's the right thing."
"I-" For all Jensen's already said today, he can't come up with a response for that, staring openly at Jared as the sun stings sharply in the corner of his eye.
Silence again, at least between the two of them. A tractor rumbles somewhere behind the main shed, unintelligible shouts off further than that. No words until Jared's back crooks toward the railing, hunching his body over. He looks sidelong at Jensen.
"So what do we do?"
Jensen doesn't want to touch on the irony of someone asking him for direction.
"I don't know." It seems to be the only answer either of them has. "I think you get ready to go back to school and we just keep going."
"Just like that, huh?"
Jared's grinning when he says it, a little bit of life in his scrunched, exhausted eyes. Jensen answers with a smile of his own.
"Yeah, just like that."
~~~
Jensen keeps going and Jared's right there with him. After two long days, they've run out of words and not talking is easier than it's ever been.
Jared skips out of work early on Saturday afternoon. Jensen recognizes the makings of a brutal headache and holds no disappointment watching Jared head back to the house for a hot shower and a handful of aspirin.
Late on Sunday morning, a fresh-eyed Jared picks Jensen up at the Claridge's and they head into town. Jared's long hair is damp and dark from a recent shower, curling around his forehead and leaving a wet impression on the back of his gray t-shirt. Jensen's fingers tuck errant strands behind Jared's ear when they stop at one of the few traffic lights.
They order thick club sandwiches at a small deli where the owner clucks affectionately over Jared and his apparent 'growth spurt', throwing in a free bowl of homemade baked macaroni and cheese with their order.
Jensen takes some cash from his latest paycheck and buys himself half an hour at one of the bakeries doubling as an internet cafe. Jared sets him up with a free email account before he grabs them each a cup of coffee, dropping Jensen's on the table and walking out onto the sidewalk.
He only knows one email address, scribbled on a plain, white business card hiding in the back of his wallet. In a dry letter to his aunt, his mother's older sister who'd been the only one concerned with Jensen's bruises when she was allowed to stop by during the holidays, he quickly tells her where he's settled with minimal details. He's not expecting an answer, but he figures someone somewhere might care that he's not dead.
Jensen's finished long before the door chimes happily at Jared's return.
They park the Ram in the shade along one of the many dirt roads running along the river. Water's low but the trees are full and green, draping over the truck and brushing the metal roof with gentle strokes in the wind as they finish their coffee.
Jensen enjoys the quiet moments as much as the physical ones, contrasting heavily with the stories Jared used to share about all-night raves and clubbing until the sun came up. Places that got his blood rushing, where he could flaunt his gorgeous face and amazing body, and become the center of attention for a night.
Jensen remembers what that kind of attention could end up costing a person.
Here on a lazy afternoon by the river, Jared's only got Jensen's attention but he has all of it, unconditionally, and Jensen hopes that's worth more.
~~~
Jensen steps out of the shower on Monday night after a long day in the sun. The water had been luke warm by choice, easing the burn on his forearms and untying the knots at the back of his neck.
He's dressed, dragging his towel through his hair one last time when Jared knocks on the screen door and lets himself in, flipping off his sandals at the door. Jensen's mouth starts to water at the rich smells wafting from the large paper bag Jared sets on the dresser.
"I think I've got enough food, but my dad was a little confused why we weren't eating with everyone else."
"Everyone?" Jensen asks, lifting warm Tupperware bowls out of the bag.
"Yeah," Jared says. "Every time he makes pot roast, it's a big deal. A lot of the guys stick around."
"Do you want to head back?"
"Nah." Jared grabs two plates, forks, and napkins, totally prepared for another picnic, albeit one with better food. "I like this better."
Gerry's pot roast is famous for good reason. Jensen craves more after their plates are picked clean, nothing left but sweet tea to wash it all down. Jared dumps the empty containers back in the bag and flops onto Jensen's bed with a decadently satisfied groan.
Head popping up, Jared pats the mattress. "I saved you some room."
Jensen crawls to sit with his back against the wall and watches Jared sink into a light food doze. Jared's face softens completely, a healthy brown glow to his skin. If Jared wanted, he could tell his friends he lazed all summer on some exotic beach-he has the coloring to match.
Jared's white t-shirt exposes a vee of clean, tan skin between his collarbones, soft cotton embracing broad shoulders, smooth fabric running down to his trim, narrow waist.
After a side-trip across Jared's wicked hipbones, the curve of his waist topped by another leather belt and soft, low-slung jeans, Jensen's gaze returns to Jared's face; his eyes remain closed, content, and his mouth pleasing. Jensen memorizes the dip in the middle of Jared's chin and the deep furrow above his lips, adding to the mental picture he'll keep once Jared's gone.
Jensen had promised he wouldn't slide into melodrama, but he wants Jared while he still has him. Scooting away from the wall, he moves onto his side next to Jared and touches where his eyes have already wandered, knowing he has the freedom to.
Jared isn't asleep for long once Jensen's fingers slip under his t-shirt and down the slope of his stomach.
"Did I miss anything?" Jared asks, yawn low and warm like a purr.
"Not yet."
Jared hums and shifts closer. "Don't let me interrupt you then."
Jensen gets his whole palm on Jared's belly, body heat drawn into his skin, before Jared rolls them into a kiss. He's never imagined being able to relax in a kiss but this one leaves the rest of Jensen's world behind, somewhere he never has to touch it again.
Jared's lips part, his mouth wet and sweet from the iced tea, and his tongue confidently draws Jensen's in.
Their shirts are tossed aside in minutes, a lightness to the way Jensen laughs when Jared pulls him back in, kiss never broken for long. No rush once they have bare skin to indulge in. Jared's hands are wide across Jensen's shoulder blades; Jensen's fingers skate their way around Jared's nipples. Jared's mouth is a sweet narcotic that could keep Jensen high for hours.
Touches turn rougher. Jared breathes out hard before flipping, fitting Jensen beneath him.
"Hey." He smiles down, mouth full of mirth, and sways over Jensen's body so their hips bump together.
"Are you trying to stop?" Jensen asks.
Jared shakes his head, messy hair swinging at his temples. "I think we're doing pretty good so far."
Jared puts his lips to other pleasures, a constant pressure as he kisses down Jensen's throat with a light and steady suction, never biting. Back up under Jensen's jaw, where his skin is so sensitive, and over his chin until they're kissing again, Jensen's panting mouth wide open and ready.
Jensen grips whatever he can reach: belt-loops, back pockets, the thicker fabric of Jared's waistband. He flexes into the curve of Jared's body while their tongues join between their lips. Jared scuffles with Jensen's jeans, pulling away and dipping his chin to follow his fingers down to the difficult button-fly.
"I hate these things," Jared mutters distractedly, lower lip between his teeth. "Get rid of 'em."
Jensen laughs, squeezing his hand down between them to help. "Are you gonna get me a new pair?"
"Yeah, just-hah!" He kisses Jensen victoriously, tilting back to drag the jeans down and off.
It's unfair to feel denim against his bare legs, Jensen thinks, throwing Jared onto his side and nimbly undoing belt, button, and zipper.
"Showoff," Jared grumbles, grinning. He's left in tight, navy blue shorts, snug like a band of fabric wrapped around his hips.
Jensen's mouth goes dry, wanting. Eyes sweeping up and down appraisingly, Jared looks happy with what he sees too. His expression is smug, the turn of his mouth teasing, and Jensen crawls over him.
It drives Jensen crazy to go slowly, but it's worth losing what's left of his mind. Jared is responsive beneath him, no unease at all being held down. Below Jared's waist, Jensen lays his own light marks on the warm skin inside Jared's thighs. The fabric of Jared's briefs feels like silk on his cheek, skimming his lips across the elastic, prepared for the frantic grip of Jared's hands on his shoulders.
He likes the tease, the slow build. So many partners Jensen can't even remember, but all that matters is Jared spread out under him. Getting the chance to rebuild his identity with new experiences.
Jensen hates to see the briefs go but he wants what's beneath: Jared, hot and full against his lips. It's clearly something Jared wants, too, as he kicks off his underwear after Jensen tugs them down. Nothing corny leaves Jared's lips and Jensen's grateful-he doesn't have the presence of mind to laugh anymore.
His lips are a tight ring around Jared's dick as it thickens to full hardness, wet as he sinks down. Not far-not nearly enough time to get accustomed to this-but Jared's back snaps up like a whip crack and Jensen pulls off to catch his breath. Jared's fingers immediately loosen around his neck, gentling to stroke across his skin.
Jensen keeps a five-finger hold on his hips with one hand, uses the other to twist and stroke at the base of Jared's cock. Jared plants his feet wide around Jensen's shoulders, knees up and opening himself further. Jensen accepts the invitation, kisses wet as his mouth wanders lower.
The skin between Jared's legs is darker, blood-flushed like his cock, and Jensen swipes his fingers through his own saliva, pressing back and low just to tease, testing the waters.
"Oh-" Jared startles but doesn't buck away from the playful pressure.
Jensen needs a better angle, kneeling up to stroke Jared off with one hand and stimulate with the other. He can see Jared's toes curling into the sheets as his lower stomach clenches; Jensen adds to the pressure and the reaction doubles in intensity.
"Do it," Jared chants softly. "Do it, do it."
The first finger slides in easily with the spit from Jensen's blow job. Jared's dick shudders in Jensen's hand but he keeps twisting his wrist to balance pleasure and pain. Jared nods, eyes closed tight, and Jensen works in another finger.
He has no idea how far Jared will let him go-even this is far more than Jensen thought could happen-but he throws himself in completely, scraping together whatever he remembers to make this good. Slowly, always slowly, he fucks his two fingers in and out, adjusting his course until Jared's moan is perfect and deep.
"More," he demands, lips bitten and red so that Jensen can't resist leaning up and kissing him. "You can do more," he adds right against Jensen's mouth.
"I can't," Jensen says. He'll hurt Jared for nothing, least of all his own pleasure.
"Check my jeans-the back pocket."
Jensen has a dozen questions after he finds lube in Jared's back pocket but all he can do is gape until Jared smacks his thigh to get him back on the bed.
"That hurt," Jensen mock complains, settling back against Jared's freakishly high body heat.
Jared's voice still holds a broken edge as his eyes darken and he says, "I don't care."
Two fingers slide in easily with the slick gel Jensen's poured over them and Jared starts to ride against Jensen's hand. He's ready to get Jared off just like this, hands all over that body in ways he'd like to repeat as many times as possible, when Jared shatters him all over again.
"One more," Jared says breathlessly, "then you can fuck me."
"What?"
There's a delicate look on Jared's face-Jensen's never been the one worried about saying the wrong thing when they're together-but Jensen can't bring himself to say no. He's bending to Jared's demands almost unconsciously, pushing a third finger just inside to stretch him. He doesn't want to ask, but he has to.
"Why?"
"Because I want you to," Jared says like it's so simple. The way he's looking at Jensen, maybe it is. Jensen hasn't previewed this act in his imagination, carrying too many scars and mistakes from old experiences, always thinking he'd have to be the one on his back.
"I don't have anything."
Jared nods towards his jeans again. "Check my wallet."
They come together imperfectly; it's been their way since the first time they spoke.
Jensen fumbles with the condom, no longer any muscle memory for it, until Jared sits up and helps him, turning potential embarrassment into a slick hand-job that leaves Jensen harder than he's been all night. They kiss, but their eager tongues aren't enough of a distraction. On his knees, Jared waits patiently, spread and beautiful, for Jensen to get a hold of himself.
But sliding into Jared-more stops than starts-is perfect. Jensen's dick demands a pounding rhythm to be satisfied, but he pays no heed, too caught up in being a part of Jared. He barely knows where to start, if he should fuck Jared or stare down at his muscled back and cocked ass.
Letting Jensen have his moment, Jared strokes himself, one elbow on the bed for balance. He feels Jared's body move around him, urging him on. As soon as he starts to push, Jared's hand drops off his cock and reaches back to Jensen's thigh.
Jensen slips out more than once, Jared's fingers right there to guide his dick into place. Eventually Jared uses his wide palm to push Jensen out completely, twisting onto his back while flaunting his less-than-obvious grace, and spreading his knees.
"Come on," Jared says, smiling to encourage Jensen to get back between his thighs. "We're not done yet."
Jensen's words continue to fail him but his body's in control, following where Jared leads. He brings them both straight to the edge, and while it's amazing-Jensen's blown away that Jared would do this-it's too much for him to finish this way.
"I can't-" Jensen pulls himself away, careful in those last few inches to keep from hurting Jared.
Jared's chest expands with a deep breath, eyes closed as if he's staving off an orgasm and even looking at Jensen will set him off. They lie there, folded together, until Jared nudges at Jensen's ass with his feet, pushing him up to straddle his thighs. Jensen hisses when Jared gently pulls the condom off of his sensitive, red flesh, giving Jensen a few easy strokes to calm him.
Jensen balances himself with two hands on Jared's chest as Jared strokes them both together. He notices that, along with his wrists, his fingers are thicker than before he worked hard to make a living. And rougher, but Jared doesn't seem to mind the callused touch. Jared's hands bear the wear and tear of manual labor, too: skin dotted with still-healing wounds from the chainsaw. The extra muscle makes for a strong grip around their dicks, Jensen pushing into Jared's hand with more urgency.
"I'm gonna-" Jared says before his body starts jerking. Jensen forces himself back and together, they get Jared off, Jensen catching the rest of Jared's broken cries with his mouth.
Barely savoring his orgasm, Jared snags Jensen by the waist and yanks him forward. Jensen's cock slides up the center-line of Jared's body-sweat, lube, and come in a swirled mess-and right to his lips.
Blown to within an inch of his sanity, Jensen paws and kneads at Jared's shoulders just to hold out. One more minute, one more second, but he's coming in short order.
He pulls away from Jared's mouth, legs giving an almighty shudder at taking his weight, and collapses next to him. Before the intimacy fades, Jensen kisses away the last of his come from Jared's lips. Jared doesn't let it stop there; he locks their mouths together in a long, languid kiss that stretches beyond the point when their bodies simmer down.
"We're pretty good at that," Jared says, his hair more askew than Jensen's ever seen it. Between playful shoves and sharing clean-up, there's no room for Jensen to ask about what happened. Jared's entire attitude and easy posture tell him not to worry about it; things happen for a reason.
Jensen sits on the bed in a fresh pair of boxers, tempted by Jared moving around his one-room apartment in his sexy, navy briefs.
"I don't have to go, you know," Jared says, dropping onto the bed and sprawling comfortably.
Jensen turns around to face him. "Did I ask?"
"You were appreciating the view," he purrs, less sex in the tone now that they're relaxing. "I didn't want to deprive you."
"You're using a lot of big words, what's wrong?"
"Maybe you fucked some brains back into me, who knows?" Jared smiles and tugs Jensen close before reaching back to switch off the lamp. "Try it again in the morning and I might learn a whole new language."
After that arousing promise, Jared begins to drift off. He shifts in his sleep until he's flopped on his stomach, feet nudging Jensen's on top of the sheets. Jared's really too big to share the bed with, but he unconsciously leaves space for Jensen to not fear getting shoved off.
Jensen lies awake until Monday becomes Tuesday, only days left before Jared packs up and leaves. He tries not to think about it. Instead, Jensen rewinds and replays a night filled with unexpected moments, fighting sleep until they're so deep in his memory they can't be erased.
~~~
On Wednesday morning, Jensen leans forward on the Chevy's back-end, elbows on the dry metal. Gerry's across from him in a mirrored stance. Even in the warm morning, their coffee steams up from extra large mugs.
The truck sits idle between them. Jensen had gotten to the farm early and found Gerry coming out of the house with fresh coffee, a let's talk out of his mouth before Jensen set two feet on the ground. Whatever the farmer wants to say, there's no urgency for it. They've been sipping coffee for almost ten minutes while the dawn haze clears.
They're in a familiar spot, a dotted line of hickories neatly following the curve of the main drive before it stops at the Padalecki's house. Just across, the short road to the sheds and outbuildings. Three months ago, Jensen had stood here, frayed wires for nerves and next-to-nothing to his name, waiting on Gerry for a job, and for hope.
He'd barely been able to stand still under Gerry's stare during the first few weeks, afraid to see disappointment in the farmer's eyes. There's no question when Gerry looks at him these days, no more shaky habits that take Jensen's focus away from the job he's set to.
Today, he stands taller, thinks straighter, and trusts himself more than the addict who'd stood where they are now, a fugitive from his former life.
Gerry catches him mid-thought, saying, "I've gotta drive into Topeka to meet one of the guys from the irrigation company. He's an old buddy, so I figure I can get a deal out of him if I tell him I need a new unit in the spring."
"Alright." Jensen nods. "Are you gonna be back by tonight?"
"Probably not. I can always grab a room and start headin' back in the morning."
Jensen can't think of anything he'll need from Gerry so they fall back into easy silence. They'll finish their coffee, go their separate ways, and that will be that. Only, Gerry clears his throat, the same way his son does when he's reluctant to say something.
"Before I go, I wanted to say thank you."
Jensen would swear his heart falls out of rhythm.
"For what?"
"I didn't know how you and Jared would get on," Gerry says. "Hell, I thought Jared wasn't even gonna show up this summer." His fingers tap the side of the mug. By now, there's probably no coffee left in it. "My son's changed. He's not the same man I remember from last summer who had so much attitude and disdain for what life's given him. He's grown up a little bit, and I think that might be down to you."
Jensen ducks his head, tries to see a sensible pattern in the Chevy's peeling, rust-spotted paint.
What Gerry says is mostly true, but Jensen wouldn't call Jared a new man. If he could speak, he would say that Jared is softer now, less of a chance for anyone to hit a rough spot and careen off-course. However the change came, it can't be attributed to Jensen alone.
"Maybe Jared thought it was time to make sure his life was heading in the right direction."
Gerry smiles knowingly. "We all have those moments, don't we?" He lets up on his eye-contact; it can still shake Jensen when he's not expecting the attention. "When I hired you, I remember saying you needed two strong arms. I'm glad to see you have a strong heart, too, Jensen."
The farmer lets the subject drop after that, Jensen gulping down the rest of his coffee as a necessary distraction.
So much for being steady and collected, he thinks, before Gerry slaps a hand down on the Chevy and says, "Time to hit the road!"
~~~
Jared asks Jensen to get a cell phone and he can't say no. Jensen has a passing moment of guilt when they cut out early on Wednesday afternoon and take Jared's truck down to the Wal-Mart.
"You only need calling and texting," Jared says, flicking through the pay-as-you-go phones on the rack.
Jensen follows along and lets Jared rule out phone after phone. Jensen had lost his old phone the night he was stabbed-some cheap, flip thing-but he hasn't missed it. Half the numbers were connections he'd call to score, and the rest he couldn't recognize, probably added when he was barely conscious.
"Get me something cheap. Just calling is fine."
"Nah," Jared laughs. "We're going big. As soon as you take some classes, my dad'll give you a raise. And I text all the time, so you're gonna need a phone that covers that."
"I changed my mind," Jensen jokes flatly, pretending to turn and walk out of the aisle but Jared snags his shirt.
"Man, concentrate. The sooner we get you a phone, the sooner we head back." Jared grabs a package with bold white letters, turning it over and considering. "I know you're having conniptions from being gone."
"Dick," Jensen parodies Jared's usual taunt, getting his shoulder smacked right there in the aisle. "There you go with the big words again." That earns him a wink, Jensen going warm from more than one memory. "So, are you planning on calling me every night or something?"
"You bet, 'cause I'll be sitting in my apartment like a good little student, studying all the time."
"Right."
"Just wait and see," Jared says, handing Jensen the package. "Get this one and you'll be all set."
"Can I block numbers with this phone?"
"Sure, but whose number-" Jared stops, sees Jensen's amusement at his expense. "Oh, fuck you," he laughs. "You just try to block me."
Never in a million years, Jensen thinks as they turn and head for the check-out.
~~~
Thursday is quiet, the summer wind calming down to nothing. Barely a breeze strikes the hickory leaves on the trees behind the maintenance shed where Jensen finds Jared around lunchtime.
He's bent under the hood of Jensen's Chevy, a light sway to his slim hips. Jensen stalls to soak up the view and clears his throat.
"Get outta my truck," he jokes, not in the least bit bothered by the sight the way he used to be.
Jared turns his head back and smirks. "I was wondering when you'd be around. You were gone when I woke up this morning."
"Gerry could have come back early." Jensen claims a shady spot at their picnic table.
"So? Your truck was in the drive this morning. My dad's smart enough to know you wouldn't come to work that early."
Jared's right; Jensen feels like an amateur for not considering the truck but he'd gotten caught up in Jared after they'd watched a movie at the house, no one there to disturb them. In the end it had been easier to stay and sleep.
"How'd you get my keys?"
"I guess they fell out of your jeans last night," Jared says. "They were on the floor and I figured I could take a last look at your truck since I was pretty much done packing."
Jensen swallows. Keep going, he tells himself, his new mantra.
Jared is fiddling with caps, running an appraising eye over belts and parts Jensen can't even name.
"I've done what I can," he tells Jensen, wiping greasy hands on a rag in his pocket. "It's not perfect-"
"But it'll get me through, right?"
Their eyes meet and Jared says, "I hope so."
Jared sits down at the table,but Jensen's eyes stay on the Chevy. Six months ago, he didn't know if the two of them would make it anywhere together. Luckily they found someone like Jared; he's good with fixer-uppers.
"By the way, you look good in my shirt."
Jensen looks down and tugs at the soft navy blue fabric, his new favorite color. "Shut up. I needed a shirt and it was in the top of your dresser drawer."
"You were snooping, too, huh?" Jared sidles up even closer, touching the shirt with his fingers. "I think I wore this shirt in high school."
"I'll wash it and bring it back."
"Keep it," Jared whispers.
Jensen's reeled in by those clever fingers, not entirely comfortable with a kiss out in the open but they're hidden behind the boxy shed so he conveniently forgets to complain.
~~~
Gerry hosts a casual dinner on Friday to celebrate Jared's last night at home. Jensen figures donning all black for the occasion would be too obvious; he goes home to his apartment to change into clean jeans and a new shirt beforehand.
The Padalecki's dining room table groans beneath the weight of Gerry's feast, a dozen friends and long-time employees gathered around. Jared eats like a king, knowing he's about to be thrust back into eating whatever take-out he can afford at school. There's more than one six-pack in the fridge but Jared and Jensen stick to soda; they share long looks across the table while everyone else is wrapped up in friendly conversation.
It's a small wonder Jensen's not shaking.
Jensen laughs when he's supposed to, knowing how off-key the sound is, and enjoys Gerry's cooking as much as his nervous stomach lets him.
Jared appears torn; Jensen knows what excitement looks like, and he sees that tell-tale spark lighting up Jared's hazel eyes. But he also notices when that expression fades, leaving uncertainty.
Gerry has kind words for his son once the plates have been cleared, coffee and whiskey passed around to finish off the night.
"Jared and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye," the farmer's saying, a softness in his face, "but I've always been proud of him whether or not I get caught sayin' it."
The group laughs appropriately but Jensen's watching Jared, an unnamable emotion crossing his face.
"I've learned a lot about my son since he's been home this summer, and I wish I had more time-" Gerry stops and clears his throat, choked up with rare sentiment. "I know he needs to head back 'n finish what he started. I've seen what kind of man Jared can be, and I know that when he comes back here," he stresses, looking straight at Jared, "he's gonna make me proud all over again.
"So, I'm sendin' him on his way with my best wishes," Gerry finishes before emotion gets the better of him. "To Jared!"
They cheer across the table and drink, Jensen savoring the coffee's warmth. Jared downs a single finger of whiskey along with his father, smacking his lips and getting a solid pat on the back from Gerry.
Jensen trails Jared up to his room after most of the guests have gone, a few stragglers staying to watch the final inning of a baseball game in Gerry's den. No one notices the two of them sneaking up the stairs.
"You're all set to go?" Jensen asks as Jared shuts his door.
"I didn't bring much in the first place. My flight's out of Omaha in the morning," Jared adds. "My dad offered but I was wondering if you wanted to drive me. We can take my dad's truck if you don't want to worry about yours on the highway."
"I thought you fixed it all up."
"Yeah, but his has a decent radio."
"Got it," Jensen says, smiling. "I don't mind."
They stand awkwardly apart between Jared's bed and the dresser. Jared laughs it off and sits back on his mattress.
"You're gonna be okay without me, right? No hooking up with the next cute guy who starts working here, okay? I mean, we need some ground rules."
Jared's trying hard to be humorous but his short, soft chuckle doesn't make it all the way to his eyes-they're bright and strained.
"I'm gonna be fine," Jensen says, avoiding the jokes. No one could replace Jared. "Keep going, remember?"
Jared sighs. "I know. I thought I'd be so fucking happy to go back, and now...this is nuts." He shakes his head. "Oh, I meant to tell you. Um, you can have whatever you want in here while I'm gone."
"What?"
"My stuff." Jared points to his boxy television-set and DVD player and the leaning stack of movies piled on the floor. "Or, you know, I have books, too. Lots of shirts, I know you like those."
"No, what do you mean?" Jensen clarifies. "You want me to take your stuff?"
"Yeah, why not? Look, I spent a lot of time here growing up and I told you it's boring. Work slows down a lot once you get past the fall and, I don't know, you might want stuff to do. Whatever you want, you're welcome to it because you're my-"
Something in that tangle of words snags Jensen and yanks him forward onto the bed. They fall back together, just holding on.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Jared hums, tucking Jensen close. His arms fold all the way around Jensen's back, the safest circle Jensen's ever been in. Jensen knows, just knows, that he's going to have this kind of embrace many more times, but it doesn't stop him from giving in to the moment for as long as he can.
"Let's go back to your place," Jared whispers anxiously as he holds Jensen. "I just don't want-"
Jensen returns the squeeze until the words disappear, nodding against Jared's shoulder. He doesn't want to be alone tonight either.
~~~
The first day of September is as hot as the first day of August had been. Fall waits around the corner-the season when everything begins to change-but one would never guess as a dry heat distorts the air.
Jensen sits at the picnic table behind the maintenance shed and leisurely eats his lunch. Pam Claridge has been experimenting with new recipes, fully expecting Jensen's presence at her Thanksgiving dinner in three months, and Jensen reaps the benefits with a deliciously thick turkey sandwich on buttered white bread.
The hickory's shade gives him a break from the sun. His Chevy, the only partner he's got these days, stands not far off, missing Jared's careful and patient attention. Like Jensen, the truck just keeps going without him.
Jensen works with the same intensity he's always had. He finds himself talking hours into his day, surprised when he looks up and sees no one there to listen. Jared laughs when Jensen tells him the story over the phone.
"See?" Jared says. "Now you know how ridiculous I felt carrying on one-sided conversations with you all the time!"
Their phone calls don't always last long. Jared has already picked up a part-time job as an assistant manager in his apartment building. It's slow, but it pays, and Jensen knows that Jared's stories about his graveyard shifts are going to get more and more ridiculous.
And, of course, Jared texts like a fiend at all hours with no filter. I'm hungry, I need food is followed almost immediately by, I'm horny, I need you.
Thank goodness for unlimited messages.
At one o'clock, Jensen wraps up the rest of his sandwich and stashes it in the Chevy for later. He's set to meet Gerry, along with a few other pairs of strong arms, to start digging up the ruined irrigation hub and clear it out.
The work is a constant, and Jensen's grateful. When his long days are over, and Gerry hasn't invited him to stay for dinner, he heads back to the Claridge's with one or two new books he's taken from Jared's bookshelves. Old classics and modern thrillers-they're all new to Jensen.
He jumps into the Chevy and starts the engine, the deep rumble always comforting. His cell phone, sitting in the passenger seat, blinks with a new text message.
Keep going, it reads.
Jensen smiles to himself. It's easier than he thought it would be.
epilogue.
Jensen knows Jared is on his way, so close now. He knows because of at least a dozen different text messages sent since Jared crossed into Missouri, but he can't stop watching the road as the minutes drag by.
Early December frosts have turned the grass brown; the trees are skeletons of their former, cheery selves. The early cold means equipment that won't start, late crops to salvage, and winter preparations to get a handle on ahead of time. For the last week and a half, Jensen's worked like a mad man, knowing today was coming and wanting nothing in his way.
Gerry's right next to him on the porch, stone-still and quiet, eyes on the drive. They've waited for fifteen minutes since Jared last sent a message, neither saying a thing.
Jensen's respect for the farmer has only grown since Jared left. Gerry never hesitated to give Jensen a leg-up, or a kick-in-the-ass, when he needed it. Helping Jensen broaden his skills, arranging repair classes-he'd done whatever it took to keep Jensen moving forward and get him a bigger paycheck.
He has his life back, one he could never have dreamed up for himself, but he built it. So much more valuable for the effort he's put in and the people encouraging him. It's a rich life, and Jensen's no longer scared to lose it.
Five minutes pass before they see an SUV winding up the road. Gerry smacks a hand on the porch-rail and smiles at Jensen.
"It's about time."
Jared's new car comes to a stop in the main drive, thick dirt coating the bumpers, looking every inch like it's been driven hard halfway across the country.
Jared steps out, and Jensen's fingers tighten around the railing, time slowing to let him take in Jared's dark jeans, black fleece, and wavy hair combed back behind his ears.
Gerry's off the porch first, long strides bringing him right to Jared's side before he can open the back door for his bags. Father and son converse in low tones Jensen can't make out, and then Jared is looking straight at him.
Before Jensen can move, Jared comes up, taking the porch-steps in a single stride. His bags forgotten back in the drive, he wraps Jensen in a hug, the likes of which he's never known. Later, if Jensen has to put the moment into words, whatever he says would fall short of its true meaning.
Jared's back.
Saving their deeper reunion for later-so much promised during late-night phone calls-they stare at one another, grins on their faces.
"So, did you miss me?" Jared asks with a smirk. He brings his forehead down to touch Jensen's, speaking only for them to hear. "I bet you missed me a lot."
Jensen closes his eyes, gentled by the touch. But he grins and says, "Were you gone?"
"I don't think I was," Jared whispers. They both hear Gerry coming up onto the porch, and Jared takes enough time to brush his lips by Jensen's ear.
Gerry clears his throat and they both turn.
"Nice car," the farmer says. "That the one you told me you were plannin' on buying?"
"Yeah, I have a car payment now," Jared says. His face falls and he groans. "Ugh, I feel old."
Jensen, on the other hand, feels young and ambitious, a new lease granted back to him. He doesn't care that he and Jared only have a month together. Everything is wide and open from this point on and, as soon as Jared graduates in the spring, his possibilities will be just as limitless. Jensen's heart is full, but there's so much left to do. He'll keep going as long as Jared's there to push him and love him in the way only he can.
The three men step into the house where food is waiting, Jared's hand warm and steady at Jensen's back. Beyond that, a holiday season spent on the farm, surrounded by the family Jensen's pulled together for himself.
This is life, Jensen thinks.
This is real life.
FIN.
master post.