Fic: Southland Tales (The More Things Change) | cw rps | chicagoland | j2 | adult
Southland Tales (The More Things Change)
Fandom: CW RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: Adultish
Warning: Extreme schmoopiness ahead!
Comments: A sort of sequel/epilogue to Chicagoland, which I wrote for spn_j2_bigbang about ten million years ago. As requested by madame_d for her birthday: Jared and Jensen decide to have another baby. Four sort of-connected vignettes from the future. Happy birthday, madame_d! I hope this is what you wanted :)
1. Indicative
Jensen never planned to have more kids. Two was kind of enough to deal with, he always thought, and it only got harder as they got older because as much as he loved his kids, he really really didn't understand teenaged girls. He never understood them when he was a teenager and he gets them even less now, especially times like last Thursday, for example, when Charlie came home from school, snarled, "I don't want to talk about it," and locked herself in her room for the rest of the night. The next morning Jensen walked into the kitchen to find her making pancakes and singing along to the radio, 'Sweet Caroline.' Teenage girls? Completely incomprehensible.
Lizzie is a little better but then, Lizzie has always been more easy-going and good-natured. Lizzie is on the spirit squad and likes math and told Jensen and Jared two years ago that she's pretty sure she's gay, but she's never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend so Jensen's not really thinking about that right now. She's only thirteen, Jensen's not worried. She'll figure it out when she figures it out and they'll be there for her when she does.
So Jensen never planned to have more kids because it just never seemed like the right time and he was pretty happy with the ones they had already, it just never even really came up. Which is why he's pretty surprised when Jared says, "I wanna have a baby." Also because Jared's dick is in his ass at the time, and it's really not the appropriate venue for this discussion. Really really not.
Jensen says, "I'm pretty sure that's not anatomically possible," and then he shuts up because Jared is pushing in hard and fast and hitting him just right, just perfectly. He's too busy coming to think of a wittier response and then after, Jared pulls him into the shower and there's soap and hot water and Jared's big hands all over him, so Jensen forgets about it. Jared makes it pretty easy to forget about things.
Until the next day, that is, when Jensen is making dinner, cutting up green peppers to go into the chili and trying to hide the fact that he's using fake meat instead of beef because if Jared doesn't know beforehand, he can't tell the difference-that's when Jared comes up behind him, wraps his arms around Jensen's waist and says, "I was serious about the baby thing."
Jensen keeps chopping. "Well, I think you'd be a hot pregnant dude, but I still don't think medical technology is advanced enough to grow you a womb yet. Maybe give it ten more years and-"
Jared squeezes him a little, arms tightening, chin resting on Jensen's shoulder. "I'm serious, Jen. I want to have another baby."
Jensen puts his knife down. He's not sure what to say, really, because he remembers having this conversation the first time, remembers sitting on the floor in his dumpy studio apartment in Chicago with the puke green carpeting and picking out egg donors, remembers the day when Anne was officially pregnant and the doctor said, "Congratulations, you're going to be fathers." He remembers diapers and how Lizzie never seemed to sleep her first six months and how Charlie got two different ear infections and screamed through both of them until her voice gave out.
And he remembers all the firsts-first steps, first words, first bicycles, first days of school. He remembers Charlie's first date just a few months ago to her first high school dance. Jensen drove them because neither of them were old enough and when Charlie came down the stairs in her new dress with her hair all twisted up, Jared said, "You remember what I said about boys?" and Charlie rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, dad, I know. They only want one thing, and a knee to the balls is the best response."
"That's my girl," Jared said, and then took about a million pictures. Charlie really did look beautiful and Jensen thought, we did good.
Jensen remembers all this, looks up at Jared and thinks, yes. Yes, he wants to do it all again. Even though most of the time it was as hard as it was wonderful, he wants to do it again. With Jared.
"Okay," Jensen says. "Okay, yes. Yeah. I think that would be. Yes."
Jared grins. "So that's a yes then, huh?" And then Jared's kissing him, and this never gets old, the feel of Jared against him; hot mouth on his, long fingers wrapping around Jensen's hips, the weight of his body pressing Jensen back into the counter, warm and hard and perfect. No, Jensen never gets tired of this and he can't believe that after so long together, he still feels the same. He still wants to spend the rest of his life with Jared and he still wants to come home and share everything he did all day with Jared. He never imagined life would really be like this, but he's so fucking happy it is. Sometimes he gets annoyed and sometimes they fight about stupid things like who forgot to get the oil changed in the car and should Lizzie really be allowed to wear make-up at thirteen, but he's still in love with Jared, and that amazes him every day.
"Gross, you guys. Get a room." Charlie mimes throwing up into a bucket and Lizzie giggles behind her, says, "I think it's sweet. Ms. Hatfield at school says that most married people stop having sex after the first five years and like, a healthy sex life is totally indicative of a healthy relationship and stuff. So I think that-"
"Lizzie, why don't you set the table," Jensen says. "Dinner is almost ready."
Jared smiles and steps away. He says, "And we have an announcement we'd like to make."
Charlie narrows her eyes and for a moment she looks so much like Jared than Jensen has to smile. "I'm not changing schools again," she says. "So if it's that we're moving to Canada or something, I don't want to hear it." Charlie will never forgive them for the year they moved to Canada so Jared could do a TV show that got canceled when the network got bought out. She was nine, though. Jensen thinks she should be over that by now.
"No," Jared says, frowning. "And we will discuss your tone later." Charlie looks down at her shoes and Jensen thinks, they're actually really good at this. At being parents. Their kids are awesome even if they act like brats sometimes, even if they act like crazy teenage girls that Jensen will never understand sometimes, and they're actually really good at this father thing.
Jensen says, "We've decided to have another baby." Jared smiles at him and Jensen can't help smiling back and he's-he's happy. He's really happy. Just the words alone and the way Jared's looking at him, he's happy. Content.
Lizzie says, "Oh my god, a baby!" and Charlie says, "Great. It'll probably cry all the time. That's just perfect," and Jensen thinks, it is pretty perfect. Somehow, his life turned out exactly the way he wanted it to without him even knowing that this-Jared and the girls and the life they made together-this is exactly how he wanted it to be.
And yeah. It is pretty perfect. And he wouldn't change a thing.
2. Baby Alarm
The baby alarm goes off at two thirty in the morning and Jared says, "Shhh, go back to sleep, I'll get it." He's awake anyway because the monitor is on his side of the bed, not that he really needs it because Max is probably the loudest baby Jared has ever heard, or maybe it just feels that way at two thirty in the morning, but Jared doesn't remember Lizzie and Charlie being this loud. Jensen mumbles something about trains and rolls over. Jared turns down the monitor and sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath, in, out, and gets up, takes his time fumbling for his slippers. Max can wait a few minutes; he'll still be crying when Jared gets there.
He could do this in his sleep. Every night, Max starts crying about two thirty, and Jared thinks, the baby alarm is going off. He barely bothers to open his eyes as he feels his way down the dark hallway to the nursery, where the noise doubles. Max is a very loud baby. Jared switches on the soft light on the end table next to the rocking chair and goes to the crib, says, "Okay, kid. I'm here. Let's eat."
He's always surprised by how small Max is. Lizzie was small; Lizzie was early so she was even smaller than normal, and they had to wait almost a week before they could take her home because she had to gain weight first. But Lizzie was thirteen years ago and Max is now. Jared lifts him out of the crib and cradles him in one arm, wraps the blanket more tightly around him with his free hand. Jared's arm is bigger than his baby, he thinks, and smiles. Max blinks up at him for a second, distracted by the movement and the new stimulus that he forgets to cry. And then he remembers again, and his face scrunches up and turns red, and it's pretty much the most adorable thing Jared has ever seen, except for maybe every other thing Max does, and he knows he's one of those dads-the kind that think their kid is the best, cutest, awesomest kid in the world, because that's how he was with Lizzie and Charlie, too-but he also thinks he's right and he doesn't care. He likes being one of those dads.
"Babies are loud," Lizzie says from the doorway, rubbing her left eye and yawning.
Jared grins. "Come on, you can help me feed him."
Everything is set up for easy, one-handed access in the kitchen, but all Jared has to do is lean against the island while Lizzie goes to the fridge for the formula, rinses the bottle with cool water before setting the pot on the stove to boil. Jared doesn't tell her to go back to bed because she has school in the morning. He's tried that before and she just looks at him like he's insane if he thinks she can actually go back to sleep. The formula takes a few minutes to prepare and Max is almost quiet by the time it's ready. Jared follows Lizzie into the den with the old plaid recliner couch Jared bought when they first moved to LA almost ten years ago-the one that Jensen exiled to the den where no one would see it because "it's ugly as fuck and I'm not having it in my living room."
Then it's feeding time, with Lizzie burrowed in against his arm, feet tucked up under her and eyes drifting shut as Max quiets and starts to eat.
It's a few minutes before she says anything. "I think I like a boy."
Jared keeps quiet and doesn't look at her. Sometimes, he thinks, dealing with teenage girls is like handling wild animals or something. If he stays very quiet and very still, he might not scare them away, but one wrong move and he's got a crying and or screaming girl telling him he's mean and horrible and she hates him forever. So Jared keeps quiet and waits, because he knows how these things go now, but it's pretty hard because Lizzie has never said that before. She's never liked a boy before and she's always said she's pretty sure she's gay, so this is different. This is new.
"I still like girls. I think like, maybe I'm only seventy-percent gay or something, because I still like girls. But there's this one boy in my class and I think maybe I like him, so. It's-that's okay, right? I mean, that's normal, right?"
Jared looks over at her, but her eyes are still closed and her mouth is turned down in that way it gets when she's worried about something. "Yeah," Jared says, "that's normal. If you like boys or girls or llamas, that's normal. Okay, maybe not the llamas," he says, and she smiles a little, "but you know, it's not something you get to choose. It's not important what most other people like, it just matters what's right for you. Sometimes you just know. And that's good enough."
"Okay," she says. Max eats for a few more minutes and then he's done, pushing the bottle away and yawning wide. "I still think we should've gotten a quieter baby," Lizzie says as they walk back to the nursery to lay him down.
"Go back to bed," Jared says, and ruffles her hair until she ducks away with an annoyed, "Dad! Stop it!" He slips back into the bedroom and sits carefully on the side of the bed, turns the monitor back up because he knows this will all happen again in a few hours. Jensen rolls over and slides one arm around his waist, rubs his cheek against Jared's hip with a sleepy moan.
"Come back to bed," Jensen says, and Jared does.
3. Smack, Crack, Bushwhacked
There are days when everything about Jared annoys Jensen-his stupid hair that he refuses to cut, the fact that he only shaves when he absolutely has to and Jensen is covered in beard burn as a result, the way that he can't seem to say no to the girls, no matter how ridiculous their requests are. There are days when Jensen can't stand the sight of Jared, period, and this is one of them.
Jared comes shuffling into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at his stubble because he didn't shave this morning, again, and Jensen thinks that smacking him right in his stubbled face would be really satisfying. Max makes a questioning sound and reach-flails for the spoon of pureed bananas and apples that Jensen is supposed to be feeding him. Jensen turns back to Max and offers him the food. Fantasies of smacking Jared will have to wait.
"Is there coffee?" Jared says, leaning down to press a dry, soft kiss on the back of Jensen's neck. Jensen closes his eyes, breathes in and out, and doesn't say anything. They've been together for a long time, long enough that Jensen knows how these things go and he knows how to handle these days when Jared does ten incredibly stupid things before even waking up and Jensen ends up having to deal with them. He digs the tiny spoon back into the jar of baby food and holds it up to Max, who slurps it happily, getting about half in his mouth and half on his chin. Jensen wipes his face and offers him more. At least Max is being cooperative today. At least there's one person in this family who's not acting like an idiot today.
Jared heads for the coffee pot and Jensen can hear him pouring himself a cup, opening the fridge for the milk, dumping spoonful after spoonful of sugar in his cup before stirring it all exactly three times and tapping the excess liquid off the spoon and into the cup. The spoon clangs loudly when Jared drops it in the sink, and Jensen can't help flinching because he hates that, he's always hated that, and why can't Jared just put it in the dishwasher like a normal human being?
Jared leans against the island, takes a sip of coffee, says, "So, what's wrong? And don't saying 'nothing.' I know when something is wrong. And before you start, yes, I'm gonna shave. Soon. Ish."
Jensen doesn't look at him. He makes a face at Max, who shrieks and giggles and spits up some apple-banana drool. "I talked to the girls this morning, and it's just, you know we're supposed to make those decisions together and I'm, yeah, I'm pretty pissed off about this, actually. This is a big decision and you should've waited for me before you promised them things I haven't agreed to yet."
Jared sighs. Jensen hates Jared's sigh, because it always means that he thinks Jensen's being a prissy little bitch and uptight or whatever, but Jensen doesn't care because they're his kids, too, and they agreed to make these decisions together. They agreed. So Jared can sigh as much as he fucking wants, but he's wrong because he agreed. Buying the girls a car is a huge decision. Jared should've waited and Jensen has every right to be pissed off. He should've waited.
"Look," Jared says, and sets his coffee cup down on the island behind him. He sighs again, and Jensen grits his teeth. "Okay, I know I shouldn't have told them yes, but you should've seen them, Jen. They had like, a freaking contract all typed up that went into the details of how responsible they'd be and how they'd pay for their own insurance and how the time would be split and everything. It was really good."
"Was it really good? Or can you just never say no?" Jensen sets the spoon and jar down on the table and turns in his chair to face Jared. "It's not about if they had a really good plan or whatever. You know this. It's about making these decisions together. You can't just agree to these things, even if you know I'm gonna say yes. We have to talk about them first."
Jared bites his lip and nods. "I-yeah, I know. And you're right. I can't say no to them. I should've said wait and see." Jared looks at him and Jensen doesn't want to meet his eyes because he can never stand that look-that pathetic, "please forgive me, I'm a jerk" look that Jared's pretty much perfected over the years and Jensen's pretty sure that's where the girls get it from. He sighs.
"They're pretty adorable, it's hard to say no." Jensen stands up and closes the space between them, rests his hands on Jared's hips where they've always fit so perfectly. There are days when everything about Jared makes him angry, but he hates being angry and he knows he's not really mad at Jared, he just needs to give himself some time to hate everything, and then it's over. He knows Jared doesn't do it on purpose. It really is hard to say no to the girls.
"We can always renegotiate," Jared says. He runs his hands up and down Jensen's arms, and Jensen shivers a little. Not angry now, definitely not angry, but the last thing their baby needs to see is Jensen bending Jared over the island, so he just stands very still and enjoys the feeling. Jared grins. The fucker. He knows exactly what Jensen's thinking about. He says, "Besides, the girls know that when I say yes, it doesn't mean shit until you agree."
Jensen says, "I know," and "stop looking at me like that, Max is never gonna go back to sleep right now and we don't have time for anything you're thinking about."
Jared's hands are warm and heavy on Jensen's shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles against the back of Jensen's neck. "We should write baby-sitting clause into the contract."
"It'll say, 'Rule number eleven: you must evacuate the house for at least two hours twice a week so your dads can f-u-c-k.'"
Jared gives him a look. "Max can't even talk yet. I think you can say 'fuck' and it won't scar him for life."
"Well, yeah, but not in the contract! Maybe we'll make it 'screw.'"
"'Make love'?" Jared says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.
And then Max starts crying and it's time for his bath anyway, but Jared says, "It's okay, I got it," and slides away to get Max out of his chair. He says, "Come on, kid, time to get clean," and smiles, and Jensen thinks, this is why he can't stay mad.
Because sometimes Jensen hates everything about Jared, but he always, always loves him.
4. Last Stop: Chicagoland
Charlie said, "I don't know, dad, it's really expensive and it's not like I'm gonna qualify for financial aide. I could probably get a scholarship at a state school and it's not like Berkeley is dog food or something, it's a good school," but Jared just shakes his head and says, "Don't worry about that. We want you to go where you want to go. We have the money, kid. We could spend it on a lot worse things than your education."
At the time, Charlie looked unsure and like she wanted to argue because she was always one of those kids that worried about everything, especially things they didn't need to worry about like money, because they really had enough. But then she asked Jensen and he said the same thing, and that seemed to convince her, because here they are in Chicago, visiting universities and taking campus tours and waiting in the lobby while she has her interview. Being back in Chicago is pretty weird because Jared hasn't been here in a while, not for more than a night or a stop at O'Hare on the way someplace else since they moved to LA all those years ago, really. The city is the same and different, too. The Trump building finally went up and the sky line looks strange and off-kilter to Jared now, but when they're driving north from Hyde Park in their rented car and the city comes into view, Jared can say, "And there's the vagina building, see, girls?"
"Gross, dad!" Charlie says, and covers her ears. Jensen, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, grins and says, "It's actually a really feminist statement. The architect was sick of how all the buildings in Chicago all looked like-"
"Oh my god, shut up!" Charlie says. "Seriously, dad, that is way TMI. Can we like, not talk about genitalia, please? Like, ever?"
Jared laughs. "Okay, okay. No more of that, we promise. Look, there's the Sears Tower. Still the world's tallest ceiling. And there's the John Hancock building, and over there on the right-that's Navy Pier."
"They have fireworks there, right?" Lizzie says, staring out the window. "I remember there were fireworks."
Jensen exits Lake Shore Drive at Belmont and they follow the crawl of traffic west, pointing out various buildings and stores and places they used to go. Jensen says, "And there's the library we used to walk to every Thursday, remember?" and Jared can't believe so much of it is still here and just how little it's changed. Boystown is still Boystown and there are still rainbow flags everywhere; the weird re-sale shop with the huge display windows still has the inevitable blow-up doll positioned on a retro piece of furniture, and the names of the sex shops have changed but they're still selling vibrators and flavored lube, so. Clark's is still there, and Jensen miraculously finds an open meter right in front of the tattoo parlor a block away. They clamor out of the car and Jared feeds the meter almost two dollars in quarters for two hours. He grins. Another thing that hasn't changed.
They let the girls get their own booth "because we're awesome," Jared says, and it's nice being here with Jensen, almost like it's twenty years ago and Jared is flying in every weekend, trying to convince Jensen that this thing between them can work, that just because the show is over doesn't mean they have to be. And he was right because they do work; they're not perfect and they fight about stupid shit and they make mistakes with the girls, let them get away with things they shouldn't and it always comes back to haunt them, but in the end, they work. Jensen is still the best thing in Jared's life, and that's never going to change.
After dinner, Jensen says, "Let's take a quick walk," and the girls groan a little because they're tired and it's been a long day and they want to go back to the hotel and go swimming and watch a movie, but Jared slips his hand into Jensen's and they start walking, so the girls have to follow. It's a short walk down Clark Street to Aldine, where the shop fronts turn into walk-ups with red brick fronts and neatly trimmed hedges underneath the lower windows. Jared smiles and tightens his grip on Jensen's hand just a little, smiles even wider when Lizzie slips her arm through his free one and leans her head against his shoulder as they walk. She's still his girl, even if she's almost grown. Sometimes he thinks he loves them all so much that it hurts, and he wishes that they'd brought Max after all, even though he was only a little over a year old and it would've been a pain carting a baby around on tours and all that. He just really loves them, and as they come to a stop in front of the three-story red brick building with the familiar white columns on Aldine, Jared thinks that his life turned out exactly the way he never thought it could: not perfect, because nothing is perfect, but happily ever after all the same.
They look up at the building and Jared's eyes find the window seat of what used to be their condo. He knows that inside, there's a narrow pine bench where Charlie used to spread out her coloring books and crayons so she could draw in the sunlight and see the trees across the street; he knows that the narrow window on the left side of the building looks into the master bath where Jared used to watch Jensen go through his beauty routine every night--washing his face with a special cleanser and moisturizing and it was so fucking typically gay, but it was always sort of hot at the same time and Jensen got a lot of blowjobs pressed up against the bathroom counter because of it.
The front door of the building is still that same ugly pine green color and the black buzzer speaker on the left-hand side of the door frame still crackles with static. Charlie says, "I wonder if there's still a swing set out back," and Lizzie says, "I wonder who lives there now." They wander around to the side yard to peer over the gate and Jensen pulls him closer, wraps his arms around Jared's waist and looks up at the building.
"Welcome home," he says, and smiles.
Fandom: CW RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: Adultish
Warning: Extreme schmoopiness ahead!
Comments: A sort of sequel/epilogue to Chicagoland, which I wrote for spn_j2_bigbang about ten million years ago. As requested by madame_d for her birthday: Jared and Jensen decide to have another baby. Four sort of-connected vignettes from the future. Happy birthday, madame_d! I hope this is what you wanted :)
1. Indicative
Jensen never planned to have more kids. Two was kind of enough to deal with, he always thought, and it only got harder as they got older because as much as he loved his kids, he really really didn't understand teenaged girls. He never understood them when he was a teenager and he gets them even less now, especially times like last Thursday, for example, when Charlie came home from school, snarled, "I don't want to talk about it," and locked herself in her room for the rest of the night. The next morning Jensen walked into the kitchen to find her making pancakes and singing along to the radio, 'Sweet Caroline.' Teenage girls? Completely incomprehensible.
Lizzie is a little better but then, Lizzie has always been more easy-going and good-natured. Lizzie is on the spirit squad and likes math and told Jensen and Jared two years ago that she's pretty sure she's gay, but she's never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend so Jensen's not really thinking about that right now. She's only thirteen, Jensen's not worried. She'll figure it out when she figures it out and they'll be there for her when she does.
So Jensen never planned to have more kids because it just never seemed like the right time and he was pretty happy with the ones they had already, it just never even really came up. Which is why he's pretty surprised when Jared says, "I wanna have a baby." Also because Jared's dick is in his ass at the time, and it's really not the appropriate venue for this discussion. Really really not.
Jensen says, "I'm pretty sure that's not anatomically possible," and then he shuts up because Jared is pushing in hard and fast and hitting him just right, just perfectly. He's too busy coming to think of a wittier response and then after, Jared pulls him into the shower and there's soap and hot water and Jared's big hands all over him, so Jensen forgets about it. Jared makes it pretty easy to forget about things.
Until the next day, that is, when Jensen is making dinner, cutting up green peppers to go into the chili and trying to hide the fact that he's using fake meat instead of beef because if Jared doesn't know beforehand, he can't tell the difference-that's when Jared comes up behind him, wraps his arms around Jensen's waist and says, "I was serious about the baby thing."
Jensen keeps chopping. "Well, I think you'd be a hot pregnant dude, but I still don't think medical technology is advanced enough to grow you a womb yet. Maybe give it ten more years and-"
Jared squeezes him a little, arms tightening, chin resting on Jensen's shoulder. "I'm serious, Jen. I want to have another baby."
Jensen puts his knife down. He's not sure what to say, really, because he remembers having this conversation the first time, remembers sitting on the floor in his dumpy studio apartment in Chicago with the puke green carpeting and picking out egg donors, remembers the day when Anne was officially pregnant and the doctor said, "Congratulations, you're going to be fathers." He remembers diapers and how Lizzie never seemed to sleep her first six months and how Charlie got two different ear infections and screamed through both of them until her voice gave out.
And he remembers all the firsts-first steps, first words, first bicycles, first days of school. He remembers Charlie's first date just a few months ago to her first high school dance. Jensen drove them because neither of them were old enough and when Charlie came down the stairs in her new dress with her hair all twisted up, Jared said, "You remember what I said about boys?" and Charlie rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, dad, I know. They only want one thing, and a knee to the balls is the best response."
"That's my girl," Jared said, and then took about a million pictures. Charlie really did look beautiful and Jensen thought, we did good.
Jensen remembers all this, looks up at Jared and thinks, yes. Yes, he wants to do it all again. Even though most of the time it was as hard as it was wonderful, he wants to do it again. With Jared.
"Okay," Jensen says. "Okay, yes. Yeah. I think that would be. Yes."
Jared grins. "So that's a yes then, huh?" And then Jared's kissing him, and this never gets old, the feel of Jared against him; hot mouth on his, long fingers wrapping around Jensen's hips, the weight of his body pressing Jensen back into the counter, warm and hard and perfect. No, Jensen never gets tired of this and he can't believe that after so long together, he still feels the same. He still wants to spend the rest of his life with Jared and he still wants to come home and share everything he did all day with Jared. He never imagined life would really be like this, but he's so fucking happy it is. Sometimes he gets annoyed and sometimes they fight about stupid things like who forgot to get the oil changed in the car and should Lizzie really be allowed to wear make-up at thirteen, but he's still in love with Jared, and that amazes him every day.
"Gross, you guys. Get a room." Charlie mimes throwing up into a bucket and Lizzie giggles behind her, says, "I think it's sweet. Ms. Hatfield at school says that most married people stop having sex after the first five years and like, a healthy sex life is totally indicative of a healthy relationship and stuff. So I think that-"
"Lizzie, why don't you set the table," Jensen says. "Dinner is almost ready."
Jared smiles and steps away. He says, "And we have an announcement we'd like to make."
Charlie narrows her eyes and for a moment she looks so much like Jared than Jensen has to smile. "I'm not changing schools again," she says. "So if it's that we're moving to Canada or something, I don't want to hear it." Charlie will never forgive them for the year they moved to Canada so Jared could do a TV show that got canceled when the network got bought out. She was nine, though. Jensen thinks she should be over that by now.
"No," Jared says, frowning. "And we will discuss your tone later." Charlie looks down at her shoes and Jensen thinks, they're actually really good at this. At being parents. Their kids are awesome even if they act like brats sometimes, even if they act like crazy teenage girls that Jensen will never understand sometimes, and they're actually really good at this father thing.
Jensen says, "We've decided to have another baby." Jared smiles at him and Jensen can't help smiling back and he's-he's happy. He's really happy. Just the words alone and the way Jared's looking at him, he's happy. Content.
Lizzie says, "Oh my god, a baby!" and Charlie says, "Great. It'll probably cry all the time. That's just perfect," and Jensen thinks, it is pretty perfect. Somehow, his life turned out exactly the way he wanted it to without him even knowing that this-Jared and the girls and the life they made together-this is exactly how he wanted it to be.
And yeah. It is pretty perfect. And he wouldn't change a thing.
2. Baby Alarm
The baby alarm goes off at two thirty in the morning and Jared says, "Shhh, go back to sleep, I'll get it." He's awake anyway because the monitor is on his side of the bed, not that he really needs it because Max is probably the loudest baby Jared has ever heard, or maybe it just feels that way at two thirty in the morning, but Jared doesn't remember Lizzie and Charlie being this loud. Jensen mumbles something about trains and rolls over. Jared turns down the monitor and sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath, in, out, and gets up, takes his time fumbling for his slippers. Max can wait a few minutes; he'll still be crying when Jared gets there.
He could do this in his sleep. Every night, Max starts crying about two thirty, and Jared thinks, the baby alarm is going off. He barely bothers to open his eyes as he feels his way down the dark hallway to the nursery, where the noise doubles. Max is a very loud baby. Jared switches on the soft light on the end table next to the rocking chair and goes to the crib, says, "Okay, kid. I'm here. Let's eat."
He's always surprised by how small Max is. Lizzie was small; Lizzie was early so she was even smaller than normal, and they had to wait almost a week before they could take her home because she had to gain weight first. But Lizzie was thirteen years ago and Max is now. Jared lifts him out of the crib and cradles him in one arm, wraps the blanket more tightly around him with his free hand. Jared's arm is bigger than his baby, he thinks, and smiles. Max blinks up at him for a second, distracted by the movement and the new stimulus that he forgets to cry. And then he remembers again, and his face scrunches up and turns red, and it's pretty much the most adorable thing Jared has ever seen, except for maybe every other thing Max does, and he knows he's one of those dads-the kind that think their kid is the best, cutest, awesomest kid in the world, because that's how he was with Lizzie and Charlie, too-but he also thinks he's right and he doesn't care. He likes being one of those dads.
"Babies are loud," Lizzie says from the doorway, rubbing her left eye and yawning.
Jared grins. "Come on, you can help me feed him."
Everything is set up for easy, one-handed access in the kitchen, but all Jared has to do is lean against the island while Lizzie goes to the fridge for the formula, rinses the bottle with cool water before setting the pot on the stove to boil. Jared doesn't tell her to go back to bed because she has school in the morning. He's tried that before and she just looks at him like he's insane if he thinks she can actually go back to sleep. The formula takes a few minutes to prepare and Max is almost quiet by the time it's ready. Jared follows Lizzie into the den with the old plaid recliner couch Jared bought when they first moved to LA almost ten years ago-the one that Jensen exiled to the den where no one would see it because "it's ugly as fuck and I'm not having it in my living room."
Then it's feeding time, with Lizzie burrowed in against his arm, feet tucked up under her and eyes drifting shut as Max quiets and starts to eat.
It's a few minutes before she says anything. "I think I like a boy."
Jared keeps quiet and doesn't look at her. Sometimes, he thinks, dealing with teenage girls is like handling wild animals or something. If he stays very quiet and very still, he might not scare them away, but one wrong move and he's got a crying and or screaming girl telling him he's mean and horrible and she hates him forever. So Jared keeps quiet and waits, because he knows how these things go now, but it's pretty hard because Lizzie has never said that before. She's never liked a boy before and she's always said she's pretty sure she's gay, so this is different. This is new.
"I still like girls. I think like, maybe I'm only seventy-percent gay or something, because I still like girls. But there's this one boy in my class and I think maybe I like him, so. It's-that's okay, right? I mean, that's normal, right?"
Jared looks over at her, but her eyes are still closed and her mouth is turned down in that way it gets when she's worried about something. "Yeah," Jared says, "that's normal. If you like boys or girls or llamas, that's normal. Okay, maybe not the llamas," he says, and she smiles a little, "but you know, it's not something you get to choose. It's not important what most other people like, it just matters what's right for you. Sometimes you just know. And that's good enough."
"Okay," she says. Max eats for a few more minutes and then he's done, pushing the bottle away and yawning wide. "I still think we should've gotten a quieter baby," Lizzie says as they walk back to the nursery to lay him down.
"Go back to bed," Jared says, and ruffles her hair until she ducks away with an annoyed, "Dad! Stop it!" He slips back into the bedroom and sits carefully on the side of the bed, turns the monitor back up because he knows this will all happen again in a few hours. Jensen rolls over and slides one arm around his waist, rubs his cheek against Jared's hip with a sleepy moan.
"Come back to bed," Jensen says, and Jared does.
3. Smack, Crack, Bushwhacked
There are days when everything about Jared annoys Jensen-his stupid hair that he refuses to cut, the fact that he only shaves when he absolutely has to and Jensen is covered in beard burn as a result, the way that he can't seem to say no to the girls, no matter how ridiculous their requests are. There are days when Jensen can't stand the sight of Jared, period, and this is one of them.
Jared comes shuffling into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at his stubble because he didn't shave this morning, again, and Jensen thinks that smacking him right in his stubbled face would be really satisfying. Max makes a questioning sound and reach-flails for the spoon of pureed bananas and apples that Jensen is supposed to be feeding him. Jensen turns back to Max and offers him the food. Fantasies of smacking Jared will have to wait.
"Is there coffee?" Jared says, leaning down to press a dry, soft kiss on the back of Jensen's neck. Jensen closes his eyes, breathes in and out, and doesn't say anything. They've been together for a long time, long enough that Jensen knows how these things go and he knows how to handle these days when Jared does ten incredibly stupid things before even waking up and Jensen ends up having to deal with them. He digs the tiny spoon back into the jar of baby food and holds it up to Max, who slurps it happily, getting about half in his mouth and half on his chin. Jensen wipes his face and offers him more. At least Max is being cooperative today. At least there's one person in this family who's not acting like an idiot today.
Jared heads for the coffee pot and Jensen can hear him pouring himself a cup, opening the fridge for the milk, dumping spoonful after spoonful of sugar in his cup before stirring it all exactly three times and tapping the excess liquid off the spoon and into the cup. The spoon clangs loudly when Jared drops it in the sink, and Jensen can't help flinching because he hates that, he's always hated that, and why can't Jared just put it in the dishwasher like a normal human being?
Jared leans against the island, takes a sip of coffee, says, "So, what's wrong? And don't saying 'nothing.' I know when something is wrong. And before you start, yes, I'm gonna shave. Soon. Ish."
Jensen doesn't look at him. He makes a face at Max, who shrieks and giggles and spits up some apple-banana drool. "I talked to the girls this morning, and it's just, you know we're supposed to make those decisions together and I'm, yeah, I'm pretty pissed off about this, actually. This is a big decision and you should've waited for me before you promised them things I haven't agreed to yet."
Jared sighs. Jensen hates Jared's sigh, because it always means that he thinks Jensen's being a prissy little bitch and uptight or whatever, but Jensen doesn't care because they're his kids, too, and they agreed to make these decisions together. They agreed. So Jared can sigh as much as he fucking wants, but he's wrong because he agreed. Buying the girls a car is a huge decision. Jared should've waited and Jensen has every right to be pissed off. He should've waited.
"Look," Jared says, and sets his coffee cup down on the island behind him. He sighs again, and Jensen grits his teeth. "Okay, I know I shouldn't have told them yes, but you should've seen them, Jen. They had like, a freaking contract all typed up that went into the details of how responsible they'd be and how they'd pay for their own insurance and how the time would be split and everything. It was really good."
"Was it really good? Or can you just never say no?" Jensen sets the spoon and jar down on the table and turns in his chair to face Jared. "It's not about if they had a really good plan or whatever. You know this. It's about making these decisions together. You can't just agree to these things, even if you know I'm gonna say yes. We have to talk about them first."
Jared bites his lip and nods. "I-yeah, I know. And you're right. I can't say no to them. I should've said wait and see." Jared looks at him and Jensen doesn't want to meet his eyes because he can never stand that look-that pathetic, "please forgive me, I'm a jerk" look that Jared's pretty much perfected over the years and Jensen's pretty sure that's where the girls get it from. He sighs.
"They're pretty adorable, it's hard to say no." Jensen stands up and closes the space between them, rests his hands on Jared's hips where they've always fit so perfectly. There are days when everything about Jared makes him angry, but he hates being angry and he knows he's not really mad at Jared, he just needs to give himself some time to hate everything, and then it's over. He knows Jared doesn't do it on purpose. It really is hard to say no to the girls.
"We can always renegotiate," Jared says. He runs his hands up and down Jensen's arms, and Jensen shivers a little. Not angry now, definitely not angry, but the last thing their baby needs to see is Jensen bending Jared over the island, so he just stands very still and enjoys the feeling. Jared grins. The fucker. He knows exactly what Jensen's thinking about. He says, "Besides, the girls know that when I say yes, it doesn't mean shit until you agree."
Jensen says, "I know," and "stop looking at me like that, Max is never gonna go back to sleep right now and we don't have time for anything you're thinking about."
Jared's hands are warm and heavy on Jensen's shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles against the back of Jensen's neck. "We should write baby-sitting clause into the contract."
"It'll say, 'Rule number eleven: you must evacuate the house for at least two hours twice a week so your dads can f-u-c-k.'"
Jared gives him a look. "Max can't even talk yet. I think you can say 'fuck' and it won't scar him for life."
"Well, yeah, but not in the contract! Maybe we'll make it 'screw.'"
"'Make love'?" Jared says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.
And then Max starts crying and it's time for his bath anyway, but Jared says, "It's okay, I got it," and slides away to get Max out of his chair. He says, "Come on, kid, time to get clean," and smiles, and Jensen thinks, this is why he can't stay mad.
Because sometimes Jensen hates everything about Jared, but he always, always loves him.
4. Last Stop: Chicagoland
Charlie said, "I don't know, dad, it's really expensive and it's not like I'm gonna qualify for financial aide. I could probably get a scholarship at a state school and it's not like Berkeley is dog food or something, it's a good school," but Jared just shakes his head and says, "Don't worry about that. We want you to go where you want to go. We have the money, kid. We could spend it on a lot worse things than your education."
At the time, Charlie looked unsure and like she wanted to argue because she was always one of those kids that worried about everything, especially things they didn't need to worry about like money, because they really had enough. But then she asked Jensen and he said the same thing, and that seemed to convince her, because here they are in Chicago, visiting universities and taking campus tours and waiting in the lobby while she has her interview. Being back in Chicago is pretty weird because Jared hasn't been here in a while, not for more than a night or a stop at O'Hare on the way someplace else since they moved to LA all those years ago, really. The city is the same and different, too. The Trump building finally went up and the sky line looks strange and off-kilter to Jared now, but when they're driving north from Hyde Park in their rented car and the city comes into view, Jared can say, "And there's the vagina building, see, girls?"
"Gross, dad!" Charlie says, and covers her ears. Jensen, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, grins and says, "It's actually a really feminist statement. The architect was sick of how all the buildings in Chicago all looked like-"
"Oh my god, shut up!" Charlie says. "Seriously, dad, that is way TMI. Can we like, not talk about genitalia, please? Like, ever?"
Jared laughs. "Okay, okay. No more of that, we promise. Look, there's the Sears Tower. Still the world's tallest ceiling. And there's the John Hancock building, and over there on the right-that's Navy Pier."
"They have fireworks there, right?" Lizzie says, staring out the window. "I remember there were fireworks."
Jensen exits Lake Shore Drive at Belmont and they follow the crawl of traffic west, pointing out various buildings and stores and places they used to go. Jensen says, "And there's the library we used to walk to every Thursday, remember?" and Jared can't believe so much of it is still here and just how little it's changed. Boystown is still Boystown and there are still rainbow flags everywhere; the weird re-sale shop with the huge display windows still has the inevitable blow-up doll positioned on a retro piece of furniture, and the names of the sex shops have changed but they're still selling vibrators and flavored lube, so. Clark's is still there, and Jensen miraculously finds an open meter right in front of the tattoo parlor a block away. They clamor out of the car and Jared feeds the meter almost two dollars in quarters for two hours. He grins. Another thing that hasn't changed.
They let the girls get their own booth "because we're awesome," Jared says, and it's nice being here with Jensen, almost like it's twenty years ago and Jared is flying in every weekend, trying to convince Jensen that this thing between them can work, that just because the show is over doesn't mean they have to be. And he was right because they do work; they're not perfect and they fight about stupid shit and they make mistakes with the girls, let them get away with things they shouldn't and it always comes back to haunt them, but in the end, they work. Jensen is still the best thing in Jared's life, and that's never going to change.
After dinner, Jensen says, "Let's take a quick walk," and the girls groan a little because they're tired and it's been a long day and they want to go back to the hotel and go swimming and watch a movie, but Jared slips his hand into Jensen's and they start walking, so the girls have to follow. It's a short walk down Clark Street to Aldine, where the shop fronts turn into walk-ups with red brick fronts and neatly trimmed hedges underneath the lower windows. Jared smiles and tightens his grip on Jensen's hand just a little, smiles even wider when Lizzie slips her arm through his free one and leans her head against his shoulder as they walk. She's still his girl, even if she's almost grown. Sometimes he thinks he loves them all so much that it hurts, and he wishes that they'd brought Max after all, even though he was only a little over a year old and it would've been a pain carting a baby around on tours and all that. He just really loves them, and as they come to a stop in front of the three-story red brick building with the familiar white columns on Aldine, Jared thinks that his life turned out exactly the way he never thought it could: not perfect, because nothing is perfect, but happily ever after all the same.
They look up at the building and Jared's eyes find the window seat of what used to be their condo. He knows that inside, there's a narrow pine bench where Charlie used to spread out her coloring books and crayons so she could draw in the sunlight and see the trees across the street; he knows that the narrow window on the left side of the building looks into the master bath where Jared used to watch Jensen go through his beauty routine every night--washing his face with a special cleanser and moisturizing and it was so fucking typically gay, but it was always sort of hot at the same time and Jensen got a lot of blowjobs pressed up against the bathroom counter because of it.
The front door of the building is still that same ugly pine green color and the black buzzer speaker on the left-hand side of the door frame still crackles with static. Charlie says, "I wonder if there's still a swing set out back," and Lizzie says, "I wonder who lives there now." They wander around to the side yard to peer over the gate and Jensen pulls him closer, wraps his arms around Jared's waist and looks up at the building.
"Welcome home," he says, and smiles.