Fic: Gold Medal Performance
This is not the birthday fic promised to 
troyswann. This is what was blocking that fic. Given the topical schmoopyness, I am almost embarrassed to admit that I couldn't write anything else until I got this out.
O word not mentioned in full because I didn't want to chance this showing up on searches. Seriously, why confuse people?
Gold Medal Performance
Jared/Jensen (plus appearences by Chad, Christain Kane and Steve Carlson)
teen
1,796 words
Gold Medal Performance
They all knew it was going to happen, and sooner rather than later, but everyone figured it would be one of the figure skaters. Even the figure skaters figured it would be one of them, breaking under the weight of innuendo.
Everyone was wrong.
"Dude! Wake up!"
As Chad burst into the room they shared, Jared pulled the pillow over his head and attempted profanity. Last night after the medal ceremony, he'd done some serious partying. Given the number of Americans in the city, a bronze in Halfpipe meant free drinks all over Vancouver.
"Seriously, dude! You need to see this!"
"Wha… time?" he managed as Chad dragged the covers off him and the cold air reminded him he'd given his underwear to someone in exchange for a pair of those nerdy maple leaf mittens actually big enough to fit him.
"Almost one in the afternoon."
Fabric hit Jared's crotch.
"Cover the junk," Chad continued, "and look at this!"
Cracking his eyelids apart, Jared peered at his best friend and fourteenth place finisher in Snowboard Cross. Weird how he could remember standings and he wasn't sure he could remember his last name. "Hungover."
"Yeah, no shit."
Jared gave some serious thought to puking when Chad's ass hit the bed making it bounce. Chad had his laptop open and things were flashing on the screen but Jared couldn't seem to make them come into focus.
Then he heard a familiar voice.
"…don't mind trash talking, it's part of the game, but some things you don't let slide. He called me a faggot, and I'd have even let that go, but he also said I only made the team because I took it up the ass, and that, that kind of pissed me off. I worked damned hard to get here and by suggesting otherwise Verdinoski insulted not only me but the team and every gay athlete at these games. So I took him down. To answer your question, no, I don't think I over reacted."
"So there are other gay athletes at these games?"
"Yeah, okay, so the rest of this is just that blonde bimbo trying to get Ackles to name names but the point is…" Chad snapped the laptop shut. "…I'm up five hundred bucks. I knew someone on that luge team was going down the wrong chute. Didn't expect it to be Ackles, figured it'd be Kane and Carlson -- I mean seriously, have you seen the double luge position? It's right out of the gay kama sutra. What are you doing?"
"My phone…" It was in his jacket pocket and he couldn't move Chad to get his legs out of the bed and he couldn't quite…
"Oh, for fucksake, here!" Chad grabbed his jacket and threw it at him. "I do not need to see the Padacock flopping out from under those sweats. That thing creeps me the hell out."
There were thirty-seven texts, mostly congratulations. Two texts from Jensen.
#yeah it's true
#don't
When he tried to call, Jensen's phone was off. No surprise.
All of a sudden, Jared wasn't the least bit hungover. "Move."
"Dude, I…"
"Move!"
Chad leapt off Jared's bed and settled on his own. "Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That Ackles was gay, dude. You guys are friends right? I mean, not a lot of Texas dudes in the winter O and you both did that take off to the frozen north to train thing. Waste of fucking time," he added under his breath.
"Dude, bronze." Jared found a pair of underwear he thought might be clean and pulled them on, then whacked Chad on the arm. "Fourteenth. And Jensen locked silver last night." Probably the reason Verdinoski had gone after him. The bastard.
"Yeah, maybe not."
Jared froze, jeans half on. "What?"
"There's a chance he broke that guy's nose They're talking about taking the medal away."
"They can't."
"They can." Chad sighed. "Sucks, but they can. Probably meeting now to see if there's extenuating circumstances or something. What?" he demanded as Jared stared. "I know big words."
"I need to…" Jared threw on a t-shirt, then a sweater. "I need to do something."
"Did you know?" Chad asked again as Jared shoved his bare feet into his boots.
Jared thought about Jensen's messages. "Yeah. I knew."
***
No one knew anything beyond what Chad had already told him.
No one was saying anything. Actually, no one would shut up about it but they weren't saying anything Jared needed to hear.
And no one knew where Jensen was.
That was a lie coming from at least half the people Jared asked but no one would tell him and four hours later, Jensen's phone was still off.
#don't
#don't
#don't
"I don't care about him punching that Russian but don't those kind have games of their own?"
Jared spun around, got two steps toward the speaker -- oblivious to the danger heading across the square -- when four strong hands grabbed him and held on.
"Don't," Kane growled.
"It won't help him if you get your ass thrown out of the country," Carlson added.
Jared struggled but he knew that in spite of having a good six inches on both of them, he was going nowhere. Little fuckers were stronger than they looked. Finally he sagged in their hold. "I just want to… you know?"
"Yeah," Carlson sighed. "We know."
"You going to do anything stupid if we let you go?" Kane asked.
When Jared shook his head, unwashed hair flopping down in his face, they released him. "Is he okay?"
"Far as we know. They've got him sequestered until they decide about the medal."
"What's to decide?" Jared wondered, twisting his jacket back into place.
"They may decide he had sufficient provocation." Carlson leaned beside him against the railing. "The last thing they need is the kind of press frenzy that'll come from taking a medal away from a gay athlete."
"They won't be taking a medal away from a gay athlete," Kane pointed out. "They'll be taking a medal away from an athlete who broke another athlete's nose. Not exactly hard to spin."
"And you're not exactly helping," Carlson muttered.
"Yeah, well, the one thing Jensen's got going for him is that no one in luge likes Verdinoski, not even the other guys on his team. This isn't the first time he's provoked someone into hauling off and hitting him."
"Either way -- lose it, keep it -- Jensen's going to be in the center of a media circus."
After a moment spent mournfully staring at his boots, Jared realized both lugers were watching him. "What?"
"There's chum in the water, kid." Kane jerked his head toward the barricades where a line of Mounties were keeping the press back. "The sharks are gathering. Lugers, well, we don't exactly get the big endorsements, so Jensen being gay, well he's got less to lose."
Jared's eyes narrowed. "Than what?"
Carlson sighed again. "Look, we know you want to leap up and stand beside him, so do we, but he doesn't want you…"
"Or us," Kane grunted.
"…to get mixed up in this mess. You need to stay cool."
"You need to fucking shower." Kane wrapped a hand in his jacket, yanked him forward, and shoved him back toward the building. "And you need to eat. And you need to let Jensen handle this. He's a big boy."
***
They decided to let Jensen keep the medal.
And that meant Jared knew where he was. Or was going to be.
***
The extra media meant extra security but if there was one good thing about being an easily identifiable medal winner in the coolest sport competing, that was being recognized by security and let into BC Place through one of the rear entrances.
The other good thing about being surrounded by world class athletes was that Jared wasn't the biggest guy in the place and he could move almost stealthily -- flashing his fame when necessary -- until he was right behind the barricade where the press had been corralled.
After the ceremony, the medal winners would be brought into the corral for photos and questions. Jared bet that tonight the gold medal winner would be getting a lot less attention. He could feel the energy rising off the press like smoke.
No, Kane was right; like blood in the water.
He couldn't get a good look at Jensen's face during the medal ceremony -- the television lights wiped everything out -- but neither the gold nor the bronze winners seemed to be having any trouble sharing the podium with an out gay athlete. That could have gone either way but apparently guys who threw themselves down an ice chute on two blades and piece of fiberglass, hitting speeds of 150 K while protected by spray-on lycra didn't give a crap about sexual preference.
And just because Jensen was the only athlete out…
Jared waited through the medals, and the flowers -- which looked like bouquets of broccoli from a distance -- and waited while the flags went up and the German anthem played. He waited until the medal winners were approaching the corral -- the gold and bronze falling back -- then he pulled his medal out from under his hoodie, and jumped the barricade.
It was kind of funny how a medal gave him a free pass through the press. Well, it'd be funny later, right now his eyes were locked on Jensen's face. He knew the moment Jensen saw him. Saw his eyes roll.
Then for the first time all day, they were close enough to talk. For the first time all day, Jared felt like he could breathe.
"What part of don't, don't you understand?" Jensen asked wearily.
"All of it," Jared told him. "Both the do and the not. I thought we agreed we were in this together?"
Jensen shook his head. "Not this."
"Yeah, this too."
Which was when someone in the press recognized him.
"Jared! Jared Padalecki? What are doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" He reached out and yanked Jensen close enough to wrap his free hand around Jensen's face then he bent and captured the other man's mouth. Jensen stiffened against him, and not in a good way. Just for a moment, Jared thought Jensen was actually going to struggle so he put everything he had into the kiss. Promises made. Promises not made yet. Finally, he felt Jensen's mouth curve slightly, almost heard him think, Oh the fuck with it. as he relaxed.
The press corral was completely silent when they pulled apart.
"What am I doing here?" Jared repeated, wrapping an arm around Jensen's shoulders. "I'm here to congratulate my boyfriend."
Crossposted from DW.
troyswann. This is what was blocking that fic. Given the topical schmoopyness, I am almost embarrassed to admit that I couldn't write anything else until I got this out.
O word not mentioned in full because I didn't want to chance this showing up on searches. Seriously, why confuse people?
Gold Medal Performance
Jared/Jensen (plus appearences by Chad, Christain Kane and Steve Carlson)
teen
1,796 words
Gold Medal Performance
They all knew it was going to happen, and sooner rather than later, but everyone figured it would be one of the figure skaters. Even the figure skaters figured it would be one of them, breaking under the weight of innuendo.
Everyone was wrong.
"Dude! Wake up!"
As Chad burst into the room they shared, Jared pulled the pillow over his head and attempted profanity. Last night after the medal ceremony, he'd done some serious partying. Given the number of Americans in the city, a bronze in Halfpipe meant free drinks all over Vancouver.
"Seriously, dude! You need to see this!"
"Wha… time?" he managed as Chad dragged the covers off him and the cold air reminded him he'd given his underwear to someone in exchange for a pair of those nerdy maple leaf mittens actually big enough to fit him.
"Almost one in the afternoon."
Fabric hit Jared's crotch.
"Cover the junk," Chad continued, "and look at this!"
Cracking his eyelids apart, Jared peered at his best friend and fourteenth place finisher in Snowboard Cross. Weird how he could remember standings and he wasn't sure he could remember his last name. "Hungover."
"Yeah, no shit."
Jared gave some serious thought to puking when Chad's ass hit the bed making it bounce. Chad had his laptop open and things were flashing on the screen but Jared couldn't seem to make them come into focus.
Then he heard a familiar voice.
"…don't mind trash talking, it's part of the game, but some things you don't let slide. He called me a faggot, and I'd have even let that go, but he also said I only made the team because I took it up the ass, and that, that kind of pissed me off. I worked damned hard to get here and by suggesting otherwise Verdinoski insulted not only me but the team and every gay athlete at these games. So I took him down. To answer your question, no, I don't think I over reacted."
"So there are other gay athletes at these games?"
"Yeah, okay, so the rest of this is just that blonde bimbo trying to get Ackles to name names but the point is…" Chad snapped the laptop shut. "…I'm up five hundred bucks. I knew someone on that luge team was going down the wrong chute. Didn't expect it to be Ackles, figured it'd be Kane and Carlson -- I mean seriously, have you seen the double luge position? It's right out of the gay kama sutra. What are you doing?"
"My phone…" It was in his jacket pocket and he couldn't move Chad to get his legs out of the bed and he couldn't quite…
"Oh, for fucksake, here!" Chad grabbed his jacket and threw it at him. "I do not need to see the Padacock flopping out from under those sweats. That thing creeps me the hell out."
There were thirty-seven texts, mostly congratulations. Two texts from Jensen.
#yeah it's true
#don't
When he tried to call, Jensen's phone was off. No surprise.
All of a sudden, Jared wasn't the least bit hungover. "Move."
"Dude, I…"
"Move!"
Chad leapt off Jared's bed and settled on his own. "Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That Ackles was gay, dude. You guys are friends right? I mean, not a lot of Texas dudes in the winter O and you both did that take off to the frozen north to train thing. Waste of fucking time," he added under his breath.
"Dude, bronze." Jared found a pair of underwear he thought might be clean and pulled them on, then whacked Chad on the arm. "Fourteenth. And Jensen locked silver last night." Probably the reason Verdinoski had gone after him. The bastard.
"Yeah, maybe not."
Jared froze, jeans half on. "What?"
"There's a chance he broke that guy's nose They're talking about taking the medal away."
"They can't."
"They can." Chad sighed. "Sucks, but they can. Probably meeting now to see if there's extenuating circumstances or something. What?" he demanded as Jared stared. "I know big words."
"I need to…" Jared threw on a t-shirt, then a sweater. "I need to do something."
"Did you know?" Chad asked again as Jared shoved his bare feet into his boots.
Jared thought about Jensen's messages. "Yeah. I knew."
***
No one knew anything beyond what Chad had already told him.
No one was saying anything. Actually, no one would shut up about it but they weren't saying anything Jared needed to hear.
And no one knew where Jensen was.
That was a lie coming from at least half the people Jared asked but no one would tell him and four hours later, Jensen's phone was still off.
#don't
#don't
#don't
"I don't care about him punching that Russian but don't those kind have games of their own?"
Jared spun around, got two steps toward the speaker -- oblivious to the danger heading across the square -- when four strong hands grabbed him and held on.
"Don't," Kane growled.
"It won't help him if you get your ass thrown out of the country," Carlson added.
Jared struggled but he knew that in spite of having a good six inches on both of them, he was going nowhere. Little fuckers were stronger than they looked. Finally he sagged in their hold. "I just want to… you know?"
"Yeah," Carlson sighed. "We know."
"You going to do anything stupid if we let you go?" Kane asked.
When Jared shook his head, unwashed hair flopping down in his face, they released him. "Is he okay?"
"Far as we know. They've got him sequestered until they decide about the medal."
"What's to decide?" Jared wondered, twisting his jacket back into place.
"They may decide he had sufficient provocation." Carlson leaned beside him against the railing. "The last thing they need is the kind of press frenzy that'll come from taking a medal away from a gay athlete."
"They won't be taking a medal away from a gay athlete," Kane pointed out. "They'll be taking a medal away from an athlete who broke another athlete's nose. Not exactly hard to spin."
"And you're not exactly helping," Carlson muttered.
"Yeah, well, the one thing Jensen's got going for him is that no one in luge likes Verdinoski, not even the other guys on his team. This isn't the first time he's provoked someone into hauling off and hitting him."
"Either way -- lose it, keep it -- Jensen's going to be in the center of a media circus."
After a moment spent mournfully staring at his boots, Jared realized both lugers were watching him. "What?"
"There's chum in the water, kid." Kane jerked his head toward the barricades where a line of Mounties were keeping the press back. "The sharks are gathering. Lugers, well, we don't exactly get the big endorsements, so Jensen being gay, well he's got less to lose."
Jared's eyes narrowed. "Than what?"
Carlson sighed again. "Look, we know you want to leap up and stand beside him, so do we, but he doesn't want you…"
"Or us," Kane grunted.
"…to get mixed up in this mess. You need to stay cool."
"You need to fucking shower." Kane wrapped a hand in his jacket, yanked him forward, and shoved him back toward the building. "And you need to eat. And you need to let Jensen handle this. He's a big boy."
***
They decided to let Jensen keep the medal.
And that meant Jared knew where he was. Or was going to be.
***
The extra media meant extra security but if there was one good thing about being an easily identifiable medal winner in the coolest sport competing, that was being recognized by security and let into BC Place through one of the rear entrances.
The other good thing about being surrounded by world class athletes was that Jared wasn't the biggest guy in the place and he could move almost stealthily -- flashing his fame when necessary -- until he was right behind the barricade where the press had been corralled.
After the ceremony, the medal winners would be brought into the corral for photos and questions. Jared bet that tonight the gold medal winner would be getting a lot less attention. He could feel the energy rising off the press like smoke.
No, Kane was right; like blood in the water.
He couldn't get a good look at Jensen's face during the medal ceremony -- the television lights wiped everything out -- but neither the gold nor the bronze winners seemed to be having any trouble sharing the podium with an out gay athlete. That could have gone either way but apparently guys who threw themselves down an ice chute on two blades and piece of fiberglass, hitting speeds of 150 K while protected by spray-on lycra didn't give a crap about sexual preference.
And just because Jensen was the only athlete out…
Jared waited through the medals, and the flowers -- which looked like bouquets of broccoli from a distance -- and waited while the flags went up and the German anthem played. He waited until the medal winners were approaching the corral -- the gold and bronze falling back -- then he pulled his medal out from under his hoodie, and jumped the barricade.
It was kind of funny how a medal gave him a free pass through the press. Well, it'd be funny later, right now his eyes were locked on Jensen's face. He knew the moment Jensen saw him. Saw his eyes roll.
Then for the first time all day, they were close enough to talk. For the first time all day, Jared felt like he could breathe.
"What part of don't, don't you understand?" Jensen asked wearily.
"All of it," Jared told him. "Both the do and the not. I thought we agreed we were in this together?"
Jensen shook his head. "Not this."
"Yeah, this too."
Which was when someone in the press recognized him.
"Jared! Jared Padalecki? What are doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" He reached out and yanked Jensen close enough to wrap his free hand around Jensen's face then he bent and captured the other man's mouth. Jensen stiffened against him, and not in a good way. Just for a moment, Jared thought Jensen was actually going to struggle so he put everything he had into the kiss. Promises made. Promises not made yet. Finally, he felt Jensen's mouth curve slightly, almost heard him think, Oh the fuck with it. as he relaxed.
The press corral was completely silent when they pulled apart.
"What am I doing here?" Jared repeated, wrapping an arm around Jensen's shoulders. "I'm here to congratulate my boyfriend."
Crossposted from DW.