Until the Day Breaks: Chapter 3
Title: Until the Day Breaks (Chapter 3)
Rating: PG-13 / light R?
Date written: April 2009
Word count: 5,802
Other information: Story is somewhat cannon though 2008, but I don’t know enough about the guys to make everything accurate. I still consider myself new to Supernatural, Jared, and Jensen, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This was written just for fun, is completely fiction, and means no harm to any Real People involved. Written in American English. Thanks to moodwriter for looking this over for me. (o: And thanks to Stephanie for her beta-work, too.
Previous Chapters: One | Two
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It’s the last day of filming. It’s eerie and Jared doesn’t like it much. He feels antsy and nervous, his stomach in knots with anxious tension thrumming through his body. He knows part of him is going to be thrilled when this is all over, when he has his life back, and doesn’t have to endure Vancouver winters and fourteen hour work days any more.
But he knows it’s all been worth it. He knows, despite all the downsides, Jared’s still got the best deal out of the whole five-year commitment.
He’s got Jensen.
They exchange more glances than usual that day. Or maybe Jared just takes note of them more than usual - attempting to memorize everything he can before it’s all over, all too soon.
He can’t help but notice that their gazes linger today. That Jensen’s eyes hold something soft and understanding in them. Jared’s glad Jensen knows him, understands him. Knows that as great as it’ll be to end this craziness they’ve called their lives, it’s also going to hurt for Jared - hurt very, very badly. He can’t help it that he’s grown so attached to the crew, staff, and other actors. They’ve spent so much time together over the passing years, and as others have come and gone, Jared and Jensen slowly became the core of the family. The unsuspecting leaders.
People look to them, rely on them, let them call the shots.
Not all the shots, of course, but there’s a certain amount of respect they receive - from the time, energy, and effort they’ve put in, he supposes. Sometimes a director will even put in an extra, unplanned shot - something Jared and Jensen decide to do right as it’s happening, because it feels right, it’s what Sam and Dean would do.
But it’s all ending now, and though relief sits in the back of Jared’s mind, at the forefront all he sees is Jensen’s back retreating, the ending of one of the best friendships he’s ever had.
He knows Jensen will stay in touch. He’ll call. And if Jared’s lucky, even e-mail. Jensen will probably visit him in L.A., if they both end up there next. But he feels a knot forming in his stomach when he thinks of visiting.
It’s been years since Jared and Jensen have thought of, or spoken of, visiting. Or hanging out. Or getting together. Because for the last few years they’ve always been together.
There was life before Jensen, he knows it.
But Jared can’t seem to remember any of it.
When their eyes meet again from across the room - Jensen standing off set while Jared’s in the middle of it - the look lingers for the five-hundredth time that day. Jensen smiles almost bashfully, the corner of his mouth turning up as his head ducks down and he looks out from under his long eyelashes. Then he sticks a hand in his pocket and turns away to speak to a P.A.
Jared swallows and pushes all of his own thoughts and emotions away, forcing Sam’s thoughts and Sam’s feelings into himself, focusing on the job.
..:..
The last cut is called. The last cut of the day. Last cut of the season, the year. The last cut of the whole entire show.
Supernatural is over. Jared blinks, feeling surreal. It can’t really be over, but he knows from the way the whole crew is clapping and cheering that it really is. ‘It’s a job well done!’ their applause says. It takes a few seconds for Jared to register that he should be joining in, and he does. He claps, whoops, cheers.
Jensen pushes himself up from the floor, on the other side of the set. He’s got a smirking look of achievement on his face as his eyes meet Jared’s. Jensen dusts himself off and crosses slowly, clapping like his team just won the Superbowl. He glances around to the directors, the cameramen, the soundmen, the PAs, and other crew. He raises his hands as he gives a few loud claps for them, for their work, for the incredible show everyone has worked together to make.
The applause dies down, and Jared’s still standing in the middle of the set, the layered emotions of happiness, relief, and distress battling under the surface. Sounds of movement echo all around the set, as people began to pack up their things or head to their departments for the next stages of tearing down what has been a home for them all, over the past five years.
Jensen turns and his eyes are on Jared.
“You nailed that,” Jensen says, his tone sharp but approving.
“You weren’t so shabby yourself,” Jared laughs, not noticing that his feet have shuffled him forward until it’s already happened. He’s looking at Jensen, but Jensen doesn’t look as if he’s about to respond. Instead, his hands are in his pockets and he’s just watching Jared.
Watching him.
Jared shifts, swallows, wonders why Jensen isn’t saying anything. Wonders what he’s supposed to say. If there’s anything to say. He thinks that probably the end is just the end, and that’s that.
Jared scowls at the words, then remembers that Jensen is still right there, and he looks up again.
“Can’t believe it’s all over.”
“Better believe it, man,” Jensen says, a half-smile on his voice.
“I, um,” Jared stutters, glancing down, and again his feet are edging forward without his explicit permission.
When Jared looks up again, Jensen takes a quick and decisive step forward, closing the distance between them, and then his arms are wrapped around Jared’s shoulders, their bodies pressed together in a sudden embrace.
Jensen’s not really very huggy. Jared has learned that Jensen likes hugs in certain situations, from certain people. But he doesn’t generally give them out freely.
Jared doesn’t delay in getting his arms around his best friend, crushing Jensen tightly against his chest. It’s then he realizes that Jensen must be standing on his toes in order to gain those few extra inches that separate them. He finds it amusing, and smiles into Jensen’s neck as he lets his head duck down.
Jensen holds on, doesn’t let go, doesn’t make the hug end.
There are so few people in the world who hug like that, Jared’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the people he’s met who don’t abide by the international hugging rule standards. He can’t help liking it, can’t help thinking that they should have hugged more often, hugged Jensen-hugs instead of Jared-hugs.
Then Jensen’s hand tightens in Jared’s shirt; he can feel it.
“I’m glad that all this,” Jared says quietly, his face still next to Jensen’s, their bodies still connected in the embrace, “was with you.”
He doesn’t expect or think Jensen will say anything, but Jared can’t help needing to speak. He can’t imagine another person in the world he would have rather gone through this experience with. Or anyone he would have enjoyed it as much with.
“Me too,” Jensen says gruffly, his voice quiet and muffled near Jared’s ear.
They hug, despite the scuffling of feet, the moving of props and cameras and lights. Jared’s glad they’re in a place where people see them every day and therefore won’t take notice - will give them their peace and privacy. There’s very little these people haven’t seen, anyway, when it comes to Jared and Jensen.
Ripped pants, terrible flatulence, disgusting belches, bad hair days, picking eye-boogers from each other, and that time both guys peed in the same toilet because, after a grueling day filming with no restrooms on location, neither had the patience to wait for the other to go first.
Hugging - even hugging for four minutes straight - is rather tame when it comes to Jared and Jensen.
He’s not sure how it ends though, but Jared feels himself pulling away. Suddenly it feels like he can’t breathe and he needs some space, some air, something to think about besides Jensen, and the show, and everything ending.
Jensen lets him go, patting his shoulder before stepping back. His eyes linger on Jared’s face, and Jared can’t help but find it nerve-wracking.
He steps back, coughs, breathes in some fresh air that doesn’t smell so overpoweringly of Jensen as he turns his back to his friend. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, takes a few seconds to remember where he is, and then pivots back toward Jensen.
“The party’s tonight at eight, right?” Jared asks.
“Yeah. I still have to go over those voice pieces with the sound guys. But I can get a ride back to the house later, and we can go together,” Jensen says, business as usual.
Jared nods, turns away, stutter-steps, turns back, laughs nervously, and then finally retreats from the set. The last time to leave the set. The last scene, the final call. The last time to walk off and head to his trailer.
Jensen is still standing there in the middle of the frozen scene when Jared glances over his shoulder. Jensen hasn’t moved from the spot where they hugged. He’s got his hands in his pockets and his head bowed as he appears to study the fake flooring.
Jared feels his lungs constrict and heads straight for his trailer.
..:..
The party that night is the Finale Party. It’s a lot like the get-togethers they always have at the end of the season, after the last day of filming. Anyone from the crew and staff is invited, and whoever comes usually consumes too much alcohol and someone always ends up karaoking - or else standing on one of the tables doing who knows what.
But this time it’s not just the end of the season. It’s the end of the Series.
There’s a whole room reserved for them at their favorite bar and grill. There’s an open bar and a really long table where various members of the crew regale one another with stories from the past five years. Jared laughs along as he sips down drinks steadily throughout the night.
They’re two hours in, and Jared’s fairly sure Jensen is still on his first gin and tonic while Jared’s lost count beyond the empty glasses and bottles still remaining in front of him. When the wait staff takes them away, Jared decides he’s back down to his first drink, and it’s time to start all over again.
He laughs at everything - either because he’s too drunk to tell what’s funny and what’s not, or because he just wants to laugh tonight. Would rather laugh than cry.
Misha tells stories, many about Jared and Jensen. People laugh, giggle, and eventually he has them all rolling so hard that some of them have napkins dabbing at their eyes, while two girls make a run for the bathroom, convinced they’re about to wet their pants.
Jensen’s even laughing his real laugh. Not his normal chuckle, but the all out infectious laugh where he sometimes loses control of it. Jared loves that laugh, and smiles so wide his mouth starts to hurt. Their gazes meet across the table and Jensen’s eyes are all sparkly. Jared imagines his are too, but with the blinding buzz he’s feeling, he’s pretty sure he probably looks more like Dopey the dwarf, instead.
Eventually the night wears down; everyone’s had too much to drink and two people are already asleep with their heads pillowed on the table. Those who are still sober enough start calling for rides. Jensen, apparently, is one of the sober ones.
“Man, you di’n drink eno’gh,” Jared slurs into Jensen’s ear while he keeps a hand on his shoulder, trying not to lose his balance.
“I actually want to remember tonight,” Jensen says, teasing as he waits with his phone to his ear.
“I don’,” Jared replies grouchily.
“Really?” Jensen’s brow is furrowed and Jared doesn’t like it. He wants to smooth is out. So he does.
Jensen bats Jared’s hands away.
“Come on, man. I think our ride is here already,” Jensen says, snapping his phone closed and tugging on Jared who’s not the least bit thrilled to be ending their last day of filming. He wonders if he manages not to fall asleep, if it’ll mean the day never really ended. That everything is still just like it was yesterday. When they were still Sam and Dean.
..:..
Jared wakes up the next morning feeling like a pile of crap. The really nasty kind Sadie leaves behind when she’s feeling sick and munching on grass.
He feels gross.
His head pounds and his mouth is all stuck together, and only then does he realize that he’s asleep on the couch in his living room. He’s not sure what happened to his bedroom, or why he’s still in his clothes from the day before. He shifts over, stiff and cramped as he tries to regain feeling in his extremities.
Fleeting glimpses from the events of the night before flash through his mind. He remembers Jensen dragging him through the front door, holding him up and trying to keep the dogs inside. He smiles, thinking how much trouble it must have been. He remembers Jensen swearing and grabbing his leg when his shin hit the table as he tried to maneuver Jared around it. He thinks maybe Jensen forced him to eat one of the leftover burgers in the fridge, but he can’t be sure.
His memories are acting a bit shifty.
“You awake in there?”
It’s Jensen’s voice, loud and clear with considerably too much enthusiasm for whatever time in the morning it is.
“Come on, sunshine, it’s not even morning any more!”
And Jared hates that Jensen sounds so happy. He moans in response, slowly pushing himself up. He feels Jensen ruffle his hair as he walks by, around the back of the couch, and then he’s sitting on the opposite end from where Jared’s just pulled his feet. He notices then that a blanket is twisted around him and he tries to detach it while Jensen watches with amusement on his features.
“Here, drink up,” Jensen instructs, handing over a whole gallon jug of water. Jared thinks its funny but takes it greedily, ripping off the lid and pulling several long gulps. The more water in his system, the better he’ll feel. That’s what he tells himself.
“These too,” Jensen says, holding out his hand. Cupped in it are three small pills. Jared grins like he’s in love with the man and scoops the pills from his palm, downing them the next second.
A couple of minutes pass, and Jensen’s fiddling with the TV remote, looking at the weather channel, of all things.
“I feel so much better already,” Jared groans, almost feeling capable of living in the real world again. His hangover isn’t terrible. It’s just edging on annoying now, what with the water and pills taking the edge off.
“Good,” Jensen says, flicking his wrist and turning the TV off with the remote. “Now go brush your teeth before you come near me.” Jensen starts to get up, but Jared snags his arm.
“What? You don’t love me just like I am?” Jared teases in mock hurt.
“No, you’re disgusting right now!” Jensen says, pushing him off.
“Come on…!” Jared coos, grabbing Jensen’s arm and scooting close to him. Jensen struggles but Jared holds on, his hair flopping in Jensen’s face as he gets as close as he can while Jensen’s trapped. He nuzzles his face against Jensen’s cheek, neck, shoulder - whatever he can reach - forcing his foul-smelling, morning-hangover-breath on the guy.
“Don’t you want a kiss?” Jared teases, making kissy noises
“Sick!” Jensen says, shoving him hard and finally escaping. He’s making a disgusted face as he stands a safe distance from the couch. “Now go brush your teeth. I’m making breakfast.”
Twenty minutes later, Jared has not only brushed his teeth, as Jensen requested, but for icing on the cake, he has also taken a shower. He makes his way from his bedroom toward the kitchen, running a hand through his wet hair as he spots Jensen at the stove. He’s got his normal non-work-day outfit on: an old pair of holey jeans and a plain T-shirt.
Jared grins, stealthily making his way around the island to where Jensen is, his back still turned.
He knows he’s being mischievous, but Jared gets that way sometimes, and luckily Jensen’s probably used to it by now. So without prelude, Jared snuggles up right behind Jensen, who jumps a mile in shock and spins halfway around, fork raised high in the air.
“Get off me!”
His tone is harsh with surprise, but Jared only laughs. He can’t help it, with how out-of-his-skin Jensen looks. The laughter turns into manly giggles. Jensen scowls and turns back to his frying pan. Jared laughs harder, and suddenly he's picturing Jensen as some old school marm with an apron around his waist, and twelve children begging for food scraps. The image gets out of hand as his mind strays off, creating its own alternate reality. He’s not still drunk, but he might as well be for the way the images just pop into his mind. He can’t help it, really, and so it takes awhile for Jared to stop laughing.
Nothing new, though.
Finally, he’s got control of himself and he sits at his usual spot on the tall chair at the end of the bar at their kitchen island. He doesn’t think there’s much time left on their breakfast, and watches Jensen’s back from his place across the room. He can smell bacon and sausage in the air, and his mouth starts watering expectantly. Jensen turns, grabs two plates from the counter, and pivots back to the stove. His shirt tugs with his movements as he uses the fork in his hand to shovel the food onto the plates.
Jared smiles innocently and appreciatively to Jensen as he delivers Jared’s plate to the empty place on the bar in front of him. He digs in with enthusiasm, looking up only to notice Jensen standing across the room. He’s leaning back against the cabinets near the stove. His plate is held in his left hand, his fork in his right as he eats standing up. Jensen does this sometimes, but usually only when he’s in a hurry.
Jared watches him silently as he eats his own food, looking up between every bite.
Jensen’s looking back. Their eyes meet before diving back down to their plates.
Jared looks up again, finds green eyes meeting his again. Their gazes hold. It’s not entirely unusual. They’ve learned to say a lot in the looks they give each other. Sometimes they’re accused of speaking without words, but really, it’s not hard when they’ve spent every waking moment together for five years. Words become superfluous.
Jared eats some more eggs. When he looks up this time, Jensen’s gaze is locked. His eyes look darker than they had a moment before. Jared swallows his eggs, holds the gaze, listens to himself breathe. To his own heart beat.
Jensen studies his plate for a very long minute, using his fork to scrape up some stray scrambled eggs. Jared has seen enough of Jensen’s body language to recognize a stalling tactic.
Jared stabs his sausage and takes a bite, all without bothering to move his gaze. Jensen looks up but doesn’t seem surprised to see Jared still watching. He licks the grease from his lips and chews thoughtfully as his eyes hold steady with Jared.
They’ve exchanged a lot of looks and glances and gazes over the years, but now Jared thinks this one is turning awkward because… It’s different.
He’s about to clear his throat, break the silence, say something or do something when Jensen’s fork makes a loud scraping sound on his empty plate as he scoops up the last bits of his breakfast. He turns to put his plate in the sink and run water in it, proceeding to grab the frying pan as well, so it can soak in hot water.
Jared sets his fork down on his plate when he’s finished and Jensen turns back, crossing the kitchen to take his plate.
“Hey, come here,” Jared says as Jensen leans across the island, removes the plate, and turns back to the sink.
“What?” he says over his shoulder.
“Come here,” Jared says again when Jensen turns the water off and looks back. Jared nods his head in his own direction, waiting for Jensen to comply. He does, and leaves the sink, walking around the island to the end of the bar where Jared is sitting.
“What do you want?” Jensen asks, smirking.
“Thanks.” Jared shrugs shyly, even though he’s not shy. He doesn’t want to forget to thank Jensen for the small things.
Jensen doesn’t reply at first, then says, “Hey, Jared?”
“Yeah?”
Jared’s still sitting in his seat, and Jensen is standing near, his hand reaching out for the edge of the bar to play with the bit of seal along the ledge that’s peeling away. Jared has seen him do it often, subconsciously.
“You said you didn’t want to remember last night…” Jensen says slowly, watching his own fingers. He looks up then and asks, “Why not?”
Jared frowns and looks down. He doesn’t remember a lot of what he said and did last night, and tries to remember why he said what he said.
“Why did you?” he asks instead. Because he does remember that - that Jensen didn’t drink much, that he wanted to remember the evening.
“I don’t know… I guess because it’s all ending, you know? Like you keep saying. And I want to savor it all. Don’t want to lose any time or have any regrets.”
Jared looks up and Jensen’s gaze is both soft and concentrated.
Jared nods, looks down and then back over at Jensen. He understands; he’s had the same thoughts. He’s just had so many other ones, too. He reaches out for Jensen, touches his forearm and slowly closes his hand around Jensen’s wrist, pulling him nearer to where Jared is still sitting in the chair, forcibly closing some of the space between them.
“Jared,” Jensen says, almost like a quiet warning.
Jared isn’t sure what Jensen is warning him about. Then Jensen pulls out of his grip, saying, “Stop molesting me.”
Instead, Jared does the opposite. He turns in his seat, catches Jensen by the arm, and tugs so that Jensen has to take a step forward. He winds up standing between Jared’s legs, where he’s turned toward him. The chair’s height has them seeing almost eye to eye, and Jared swallows nervously now that he has a hold on Jensen and no clue what, exactly, is happening.
But Jensen’s standing very close. And very still. And even if the room still smells like bacon and sausage, Jensen still smells like Jensen and Jared can’t help leaning into it, just a little bit.
And then, he just does it. In the blink of an eye, Jared’s lips are against Jensen’s.
“What are you doing?!” Jensen demands.
Jared blinks, taking a second to realize that Jensen has pushed him away. The oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room as Jared tries to force his mind beyond the split-second of lips that it’s still stuck on. He stares into Jensen’s eyes, finding them hard to read but eventually recognizing the shock and the guard that’s just gone up.
“I don’t want this to end,” Jared says quietly, his voice a marked contrast to the sudden race of his heart. He’s looking down, away from that look in Jensen’s eyes, but his hand still has a hold of Jensen’s wrist, and he feels his own fingers fidgeting over Jensen’s skin involuntarily.
“Yeah, you keep saying stuff like that…!” Jensen replies immediately, exasperation in his voice. “You don’t want it to end. You can’t leave with her. You can’t leave without me. I’ve heard it all! So what’s your deal, man?”
Jensen looks at him hard. Jared removes his hand from his wrist and instead traces the edge of the bar with his fingertips, stitching his thoughts together. If he only understood them, it would make it that much easier.
“I… I don’t know. I just feel…” Jared begins, but the words stick in his mouth and he can’t find the rest of the sentence. He looks to Jensen for help. Jensen always knows what he means, even when he can’t explain it.
“You have to let go some time,” Jensen says gently. His voice is quiet and resigned, as if two minutes ago, Jared’s lips against Jensen’s had simply been an overflow of needy affection, completely normal. An everyday occurrence.
“No. I can’t. Jensen.”
He tries again, and for all the times that Jared has rambled on endlessly, his words are failing him today. He bites down, clenches his jaw. In a fast, fluid motion, he grabs Jensen’s face suddenly, his hands large against Jensen’s cheeks and jaws. Jensen seems startled but reacts by reaching up and gripping both of Jared’s wrists.
Jared looks at him, their eyes doing that thing they did earlier in the kitchen over breakfast. It’s frustrating Jared that he doesn’t know what it means, exactly. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t. Suddenly all he can feel is Jensen slipping through his fingers, their whole five years gone and behind them. Everything forgotten. Their lives moving on. No more Jared and Jensen.
Jared’s eyebrow dips, his nose flares and he swallows hard before standing up and tugging Jensen close again. He lets go of Jensen’s face only to wrap his arms around him and hold on. Hard. And long. And forever.
Jared blinks.
Forever…
He closes his eyes. Amused, he can almost hear the ‘click’ as it falls into place in his mind. He buries his face in Jensen’s neck and feels the warmth of his arms reciprocating the hug. It’s all so perfect. So perfect, and Jared’s been so stupid.
“I love you,” Jared says against Jensen’s neck, and if it’s a little broken, he thinks he can’t be blamed for that.
He feels Jensen swallow and Jared tightens his arms around him.
“Yeah…” Jensen says.
“No,” Jared responds adamantly, pulling back enough so that Jensen can see his face. “I. Love. You.”
He wants Jensen to hear it click, just like Jared did.
Jensen’s eyes lock with his and they look at each other for a very long time, wordlessly, almost breathlessly on Jared’s part, if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t survive without the necessary intake of oxygen. Maybe he should have figured things out a long time ago. But maybe now is the right time.
Now, when he realizes what he stands to lose. As he realizes what he could have had. What maybe he can still have.
Jared lets his hands trail down from Jensen’s shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before he steps around Jensen and leads him by the wrist, slowing walking backwards toward the doorway of the kitchen. Jensen follows, allowing himself to be led, watching Jared steadily.
Jared leads them to his bedroom, where Jensen grows reluctant to cross the threshold. His feet get heavier and he leans back, attempting to slow the progress.
“Jared,” he says, warning again.
Jared ignores it, tugs on his arm and gets them both inside his bedroom where he shuts the door and instantly has Jensen backed up against it. His eyes are wide and dark as Jared presses his body against Jensen’s, appreciating the contact, the touch, the way Jensen’s hand lingers on his shoulder.
They look at each other for two beats before Jared kisses him again. It’s a real kiss, this time. Hard and passionate and breathless. Jensen kisses him back and Jared touches him - his hips and stomach and chest, all covered with layers of clothing that Jared, perhaps for the first conscious moment, realizes he wouldn’t mind removing from Jensen.
The realization should be startling, at his age, at this point in his life. But it isn’t. Because this is Jensen. And for the first time in a long time, clarity seems attainable.
Finally, Jared pulls back from the kiss and rests his forehead against Jensen’s as he catches his breath. Jensen does the same.
Jared says, “You never told me.”
“Told you what?” Jensen asks, searching his eyes.
“That you loved me,” Jared answers simply. All this time, and Jared never knew. Never put it together.
He watches as the corner of Jensen’s mouth slowly lifts and he tilts his head to the side, gaze roving over Jared’s face and slowly meeting his eyes again.
“Of course I loved you,” Jensen says quietly, simply.
Of course, Jared thinks. Just like, he realizes, he has always loved Jensen. Whatever love means. However it’s defined. However it changes, or grows, or shifts in shape and size. It’s always been love.
Jared grins, kisses Jensen again and steps back, dragging him toward the bed. He wonders if it’s too soon to explore whatever this is they’re both finally agreeing too. But then he thinks - really, haven’t they been courting each other for years? Living together for the past two?
He’s not waiting another day, not if Jensen doesn’t want to.
Turns out he doesn’t.
Jared sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Jensen with him, who swiftly captures his lips in a kiss it seems he’s been waiting for, who knows how long. Jared doesn’t have to ask just then, but he thinks some day he will. He leans back, slowly edging them backward along the bed as he lays on his back and reaches for Jensen’s hair, running his fingers over his scalp. Jensen hums into his mouth, nips at his lower lip and licks the love-bite better.
Then Jensen has his hands under Jared’s shirt, and the touch - it’s speaking his language. Jared arches into it, encouraging Jensen for more, until his T-shirt is off and thrown across the room and Jensen’s fingers are making trails all over his chest and stomach. He cups the back of Jensen’s head, holds him close, kisses him senseless until Jensen has to jerk away to catch some oxygen before he passes out. Jared laughs, takes the moment to flip him over and get his T-shirt off.
Jared kisses his bare skin and grins when he hears Jensen suck in a strained breath. He looks up and Jensen is watching him, his hands slowly weaving into Jared’s hair. As if they had always belonged there.
He kisses every inch of skin he can reach before coming back up to kiss Jensen’s lips - lips he’s watched and seen and listened to for so long. Lips he’d never really thought about kissing. Lips that are now the only ones he can fathom wanting to kiss - forever.
Forever…
Jared sucks in a breath as he feels Jensen’s hand over the zipper of his jeans, slowly edging down along the seams. He leans into it, rubbing himself on Jensen’s hand. Jensen lets out an amused breath through his nose, leans up into the kiss, and digs harder against Jared’s jeans.
Jared whimpers. It’s ridiculous. Stupid. But, god, how can Jensen do that to him?
It takes a minute for Jared to realize that his jeans feel suddenly looser, and then there’s skin on skin contact and he forgets how to kiss, forgets how to breathe and he drops down to rest on his forearms, situated on either side of Jensen’s head.
Jensen - who is amused again, smiles up at him, but the smile is warm, and affectionate, his eyes turning slightly darker when they catch with Jared’s.
He should be ashamed of how easily it ends, but he can’t find the strength for shame. Jensen extracts his hand from Jared’s jeans, wipes it on the denim and slowly rolls Jared over. He’s too far gone to protest anyway, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He’s pretty sure he’d do anything Jensen asked him, right in that moment.
Jensen doesn’t ask. He crawls over Jared, kisses him long and slow, explores his mouth, neck, jaw. Touches his chest and stomach, then straddles Jared’s long, bent leg. Jared suddenly feels a bit more aware of what exactly is rubbing hard along his thigh. He reaches for Jensen, heat and need and want thick in the air. He scrapes his nails along Jensen’s scalp, then down his back as Jensen lets out a stilted groan and continues to bring himself off on Jared’s thigh.
He wants to touch, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter. And the whole thing is over so fast - maybe because they’ve wanted it so long. Maybe because they have all the time in the world to try everything there is to do together.
Jensen falls on top of Jared, breathing hard, and sweatier than before. Jared’s fingers trail idly up and down the back of his neck, finding his new favorite spot to touch Jensen. The skin is soft and smooth there. A place he never would have suspected to be so personal, so private. But it is. It’s his place, now.
They don’t say anything, just lay there in their soiled jeans, in the unmade bed, lying together with arms and legs entangled. The world makes more sense from there, anyway.
..:..
It’s hot outside but the breeze feels good. The smell of the ocean, the feel of the sand beneath him, the sounds of dogs and kids and water splashing, pleasant squeals and teasing barks.
Jared smiles as he props himself up on his elbows where he lies on a beach towel in California. The wind, the sun, the heat - it’s all so different from Vancouver. But one thing is the same. Jared smirks as he watches Jensen splashing in the tide. Harley and Sadie are playing a game of chase with him, and Jared’s not sure who’s winning. If he has to judge by who’s splashing the most water, it would certainly be Harley. If the winner is the one who stays the driest, Jensen has definitely lost that one. Sadie conspires against him and the two dogs drag Jensen down into the ocean water. He splutters and laughs and grabs the nearest dog - Harley - giving him a well-earned noogie.
He thinks maybe the dogs have always been in love with Jensen, too. Which is probably a good thing, since Jared is planning on keeping him around.
They have interviews, role-readings, and scripts piling up. Nothing quite like Supernatural. But Jared thinks, really, he’s got the best part of Supernatural still with him.
He’s got Jensen.
THE END.
Rating: PG-13 / light R?
Date written: April 2009
Word count: 5,802
Other information: Story is somewhat cannon though 2008, but I don’t know enough about the guys to make everything accurate. I still consider myself new to Supernatural, Jared, and Jensen, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This was written just for fun, is completely fiction, and means no harm to any Real People involved. Written in American English. Thanks to moodwriter for looking this over for me. (o: And thanks to Stephanie for her beta-work, too.
Previous Chapters: One | Two
--
It’s the last day of filming. It’s eerie and Jared doesn’t like it much. He feels antsy and nervous, his stomach in knots with anxious tension thrumming through his body. He knows part of him is going to be thrilled when this is all over, when he has his life back, and doesn’t have to endure Vancouver winters and fourteen hour work days any more.
But he knows it’s all been worth it. He knows, despite all the downsides, Jared’s still got the best deal out of the whole five-year commitment.
He’s got Jensen.
They exchange more glances than usual that day. Or maybe Jared just takes note of them more than usual - attempting to memorize everything he can before it’s all over, all too soon.
He can’t help but notice that their gazes linger today. That Jensen’s eyes hold something soft and understanding in them. Jared’s glad Jensen knows him, understands him. Knows that as great as it’ll be to end this craziness they’ve called their lives, it’s also going to hurt for Jared - hurt very, very badly. He can’t help it that he’s grown so attached to the crew, staff, and other actors. They’ve spent so much time together over the passing years, and as others have come and gone, Jared and Jensen slowly became the core of the family. The unsuspecting leaders.
People look to them, rely on them, let them call the shots.
Not all the shots, of course, but there’s a certain amount of respect they receive - from the time, energy, and effort they’ve put in, he supposes. Sometimes a director will even put in an extra, unplanned shot - something Jared and Jensen decide to do right as it’s happening, because it feels right, it’s what Sam and Dean would do.
But it’s all ending now, and though relief sits in the back of Jared’s mind, at the forefront all he sees is Jensen’s back retreating, the ending of one of the best friendships he’s ever had.
He knows Jensen will stay in touch. He’ll call. And if Jared’s lucky, even e-mail. Jensen will probably visit him in L.A., if they both end up there next. But he feels a knot forming in his stomach when he thinks of visiting.
It’s been years since Jared and Jensen have thought of, or spoken of, visiting. Or hanging out. Or getting together. Because for the last few years they’ve always been together.
There was life before Jensen, he knows it.
But Jared can’t seem to remember any of it.
When their eyes meet again from across the room - Jensen standing off set while Jared’s in the middle of it - the look lingers for the five-hundredth time that day. Jensen smiles almost bashfully, the corner of his mouth turning up as his head ducks down and he looks out from under his long eyelashes. Then he sticks a hand in his pocket and turns away to speak to a P.A.
Jared swallows and pushes all of his own thoughts and emotions away, forcing Sam’s thoughts and Sam’s feelings into himself, focusing on the job.
..:..
The last cut is called. The last cut of the day. Last cut of the season, the year. The last cut of the whole entire show.
Supernatural is over. Jared blinks, feeling surreal. It can’t really be over, but he knows from the way the whole crew is clapping and cheering that it really is. ‘It’s a job well done!’ their applause says. It takes a few seconds for Jared to register that he should be joining in, and he does. He claps, whoops, cheers.
Jensen pushes himself up from the floor, on the other side of the set. He’s got a smirking look of achievement on his face as his eyes meet Jared’s. Jensen dusts himself off and crosses slowly, clapping like his team just won the Superbowl. He glances around to the directors, the cameramen, the soundmen, the PAs, and other crew. He raises his hands as he gives a few loud claps for them, for their work, for the incredible show everyone has worked together to make.
The applause dies down, and Jared’s still standing in the middle of the set, the layered emotions of happiness, relief, and distress battling under the surface. Sounds of movement echo all around the set, as people began to pack up their things or head to their departments for the next stages of tearing down what has been a home for them all, over the past five years.
Jensen turns and his eyes are on Jared.
“You nailed that,” Jensen says, his tone sharp but approving.
“You weren’t so shabby yourself,” Jared laughs, not noticing that his feet have shuffled him forward until it’s already happened. He’s looking at Jensen, but Jensen doesn’t look as if he’s about to respond. Instead, his hands are in his pockets and he’s just watching Jared.
Watching him.
Jared shifts, swallows, wonders why Jensen isn’t saying anything. Wonders what he’s supposed to say. If there’s anything to say. He thinks that probably the end is just the end, and that’s that.
Jared scowls at the words, then remembers that Jensen is still right there, and he looks up again.
“Can’t believe it’s all over.”
“Better believe it, man,” Jensen says, a half-smile on his voice.
“I, um,” Jared stutters, glancing down, and again his feet are edging forward without his explicit permission.
When Jared looks up again, Jensen takes a quick and decisive step forward, closing the distance between them, and then his arms are wrapped around Jared’s shoulders, their bodies pressed together in a sudden embrace.
Jensen’s not really very huggy. Jared has learned that Jensen likes hugs in certain situations, from certain people. But he doesn’t generally give them out freely.
Jared doesn’t delay in getting his arms around his best friend, crushing Jensen tightly against his chest. It’s then he realizes that Jensen must be standing on his toes in order to gain those few extra inches that separate them. He finds it amusing, and smiles into Jensen’s neck as he lets his head duck down.
Jensen holds on, doesn’t let go, doesn’t make the hug end.
There are so few people in the world who hug like that, Jared’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the people he’s met who don’t abide by the international hugging rule standards. He can’t help liking it, can’t help thinking that they should have hugged more often, hugged Jensen-hugs instead of Jared-hugs.
Then Jensen’s hand tightens in Jared’s shirt; he can feel it.
“I’m glad that all this,” Jared says quietly, his face still next to Jensen’s, their bodies still connected in the embrace, “was with you.”
He doesn’t expect or think Jensen will say anything, but Jared can’t help needing to speak. He can’t imagine another person in the world he would have rather gone through this experience with. Or anyone he would have enjoyed it as much with.
“Me too,” Jensen says gruffly, his voice quiet and muffled near Jared’s ear.
They hug, despite the scuffling of feet, the moving of props and cameras and lights. Jared’s glad they’re in a place where people see them every day and therefore won’t take notice - will give them their peace and privacy. There’s very little these people haven’t seen, anyway, when it comes to Jared and Jensen.
Ripped pants, terrible flatulence, disgusting belches, bad hair days, picking eye-boogers from each other, and that time both guys peed in the same toilet because, after a grueling day filming with no restrooms on location, neither had the patience to wait for the other to go first.
Hugging - even hugging for four minutes straight - is rather tame when it comes to Jared and Jensen.
He’s not sure how it ends though, but Jared feels himself pulling away. Suddenly it feels like he can’t breathe and he needs some space, some air, something to think about besides Jensen, and the show, and everything ending.
Jensen lets him go, patting his shoulder before stepping back. His eyes linger on Jared’s face, and Jared can’t help but find it nerve-wracking.
He steps back, coughs, breathes in some fresh air that doesn’t smell so overpoweringly of Jensen as he turns his back to his friend. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, takes a few seconds to remember where he is, and then pivots back toward Jensen.
“The party’s tonight at eight, right?” Jared asks.
“Yeah. I still have to go over those voice pieces with the sound guys. But I can get a ride back to the house later, and we can go together,” Jensen says, business as usual.
Jared nods, turns away, stutter-steps, turns back, laughs nervously, and then finally retreats from the set. The last time to leave the set. The last scene, the final call. The last time to walk off and head to his trailer.
Jensen is still standing there in the middle of the frozen scene when Jared glances over his shoulder. Jensen hasn’t moved from the spot where they hugged. He’s got his hands in his pockets and his head bowed as he appears to study the fake flooring.
Jared feels his lungs constrict and heads straight for his trailer.
..:..
The party that night is the Finale Party. It’s a lot like the get-togethers they always have at the end of the season, after the last day of filming. Anyone from the crew and staff is invited, and whoever comes usually consumes too much alcohol and someone always ends up karaoking - or else standing on one of the tables doing who knows what.
But this time it’s not just the end of the season. It’s the end of the Series.
There’s a whole room reserved for them at their favorite bar and grill. There’s an open bar and a really long table where various members of the crew regale one another with stories from the past five years. Jared laughs along as he sips down drinks steadily throughout the night.
They’re two hours in, and Jared’s fairly sure Jensen is still on his first gin and tonic while Jared’s lost count beyond the empty glasses and bottles still remaining in front of him. When the wait staff takes them away, Jared decides he’s back down to his first drink, and it’s time to start all over again.
He laughs at everything - either because he’s too drunk to tell what’s funny and what’s not, or because he just wants to laugh tonight. Would rather laugh than cry.
Misha tells stories, many about Jared and Jensen. People laugh, giggle, and eventually he has them all rolling so hard that some of them have napkins dabbing at their eyes, while two girls make a run for the bathroom, convinced they’re about to wet their pants.
Jensen’s even laughing his real laugh. Not his normal chuckle, but the all out infectious laugh where he sometimes loses control of it. Jared loves that laugh, and smiles so wide his mouth starts to hurt. Their gazes meet across the table and Jensen’s eyes are all sparkly. Jared imagines his are too, but with the blinding buzz he’s feeling, he’s pretty sure he probably looks more like Dopey the dwarf, instead.
Eventually the night wears down; everyone’s had too much to drink and two people are already asleep with their heads pillowed on the table. Those who are still sober enough start calling for rides. Jensen, apparently, is one of the sober ones.
“Man, you di’n drink eno’gh,” Jared slurs into Jensen’s ear while he keeps a hand on his shoulder, trying not to lose his balance.
“I actually want to remember tonight,” Jensen says, teasing as he waits with his phone to his ear.
“I don’,” Jared replies grouchily.
“Really?” Jensen’s brow is furrowed and Jared doesn’t like it. He wants to smooth is out. So he does.
Jensen bats Jared’s hands away.
“Come on, man. I think our ride is here already,” Jensen says, snapping his phone closed and tugging on Jared who’s not the least bit thrilled to be ending their last day of filming. He wonders if he manages not to fall asleep, if it’ll mean the day never really ended. That everything is still just like it was yesterday. When they were still Sam and Dean.
..:..
Jared wakes up the next morning feeling like a pile of crap. The really nasty kind Sadie leaves behind when she’s feeling sick and munching on grass.
He feels gross.
His head pounds and his mouth is all stuck together, and only then does he realize that he’s asleep on the couch in his living room. He’s not sure what happened to his bedroom, or why he’s still in his clothes from the day before. He shifts over, stiff and cramped as he tries to regain feeling in his extremities.
Fleeting glimpses from the events of the night before flash through his mind. He remembers Jensen dragging him through the front door, holding him up and trying to keep the dogs inside. He smiles, thinking how much trouble it must have been. He remembers Jensen swearing and grabbing his leg when his shin hit the table as he tried to maneuver Jared around it. He thinks maybe Jensen forced him to eat one of the leftover burgers in the fridge, but he can’t be sure.
His memories are acting a bit shifty.
“You awake in there?”
It’s Jensen’s voice, loud and clear with considerably too much enthusiasm for whatever time in the morning it is.
“Come on, sunshine, it’s not even morning any more!”
And Jared hates that Jensen sounds so happy. He moans in response, slowly pushing himself up. He feels Jensen ruffle his hair as he walks by, around the back of the couch, and then he’s sitting on the opposite end from where Jared’s just pulled his feet. He notices then that a blanket is twisted around him and he tries to detach it while Jensen watches with amusement on his features.
“Here, drink up,” Jensen instructs, handing over a whole gallon jug of water. Jared thinks its funny but takes it greedily, ripping off the lid and pulling several long gulps. The more water in his system, the better he’ll feel. That’s what he tells himself.
“These too,” Jensen says, holding out his hand. Cupped in it are three small pills. Jared grins like he’s in love with the man and scoops the pills from his palm, downing them the next second.
A couple of minutes pass, and Jensen’s fiddling with the TV remote, looking at the weather channel, of all things.
“I feel so much better already,” Jared groans, almost feeling capable of living in the real world again. His hangover isn’t terrible. It’s just edging on annoying now, what with the water and pills taking the edge off.
“Good,” Jensen says, flicking his wrist and turning the TV off with the remote. “Now go brush your teeth before you come near me.” Jensen starts to get up, but Jared snags his arm.
“What? You don’t love me just like I am?” Jared teases in mock hurt.
“No, you’re disgusting right now!” Jensen says, pushing him off.
“Come on…!” Jared coos, grabbing Jensen’s arm and scooting close to him. Jensen struggles but Jared holds on, his hair flopping in Jensen’s face as he gets as close as he can while Jensen’s trapped. He nuzzles his face against Jensen’s cheek, neck, shoulder - whatever he can reach - forcing his foul-smelling, morning-hangover-breath on the guy.
“Don’t you want a kiss?” Jared teases, making kissy noises
“Sick!” Jensen says, shoving him hard and finally escaping. He’s making a disgusted face as he stands a safe distance from the couch. “Now go brush your teeth. I’m making breakfast.”
Twenty minutes later, Jared has not only brushed his teeth, as Jensen requested, but for icing on the cake, he has also taken a shower. He makes his way from his bedroom toward the kitchen, running a hand through his wet hair as he spots Jensen at the stove. He’s got his normal non-work-day outfit on: an old pair of holey jeans and a plain T-shirt.
Jared grins, stealthily making his way around the island to where Jensen is, his back still turned.
He knows he’s being mischievous, but Jared gets that way sometimes, and luckily Jensen’s probably used to it by now. So without prelude, Jared snuggles up right behind Jensen, who jumps a mile in shock and spins halfway around, fork raised high in the air.
“Get off me!”
His tone is harsh with surprise, but Jared only laughs. He can’t help it, with how out-of-his-skin Jensen looks. The laughter turns into manly giggles. Jensen scowls and turns back to his frying pan. Jared laughs harder, and suddenly he's picturing Jensen as some old school marm with an apron around his waist, and twelve children begging for food scraps. The image gets out of hand as his mind strays off, creating its own alternate reality. He’s not still drunk, but he might as well be for the way the images just pop into his mind. He can’t help it, really, and so it takes awhile for Jared to stop laughing.
Nothing new, though.
Finally, he’s got control of himself and he sits at his usual spot on the tall chair at the end of the bar at their kitchen island. He doesn’t think there’s much time left on their breakfast, and watches Jensen’s back from his place across the room. He can smell bacon and sausage in the air, and his mouth starts watering expectantly. Jensen turns, grabs two plates from the counter, and pivots back to the stove. His shirt tugs with his movements as he uses the fork in his hand to shovel the food onto the plates.
Jared smiles innocently and appreciatively to Jensen as he delivers Jared’s plate to the empty place on the bar in front of him. He digs in with enthusiasm, looking up only to notice Jensen standing across the room. He’s leaning back against the cabinets near the stove. His plate is held in his left hand, his fork in his right as he eats standing up. Jensen does this sometimes, but usually only when he’s in a hurry.
Jared watches him silently as he eats his own food, looking up between every bite.
Jensen’s looking back. Their eyes meet before diving back down to their plates.
Jared looks up again, finds green eyes meeting his again. Their gazes hold. It’s not entirely unusual. They’ve learned to say a lot in the looks they give each other. Sometimes they’re accused of speaking without words, but really, it’s not hard when they’ve spent every waking moment together for five years. Words become superfluous.
Jared eats some more eggs. When he looks up this time, Jensen’s gaze is locked. His eyes look darker than they had a moment before. Jared swallows his eggs, holds the gaze, listens to himself breathe. To his own heart beat.
Jensen studies his plate for a very long minute, using his fork to scrape up some stray scrambled eggs. Jared has seen enough of Jensen’s body language to recognize a stalling tactic.
Jared stabs his sausage and takes a bite, all without bothering to move his gaze. Jensen looks up but doesn’t seem surprised to see Jared still watching. He licks the grease from his lips and chews thoughtfully as his eyes hold steady with Jared.
They’ve exchanged a lot of looks and glances and gazes over the years, but now Jared thinks this one is turning awkward because… It’s different.
He’s about to clear his throat, break the silence, say something or do something when Jensen’s fork makes a loud scraping sound on his empty plate as he scoops up the last bits of his breakfast. He turns to put his plate in the sink and run water in it, proceeding to grab the frying pan as well, so it can soak in hot water.
Jared sets his fork down on his plate when he’s finished and Jensen turns back, crossing the kitchen to take his plate.
“Hey, come here,” Jared says as Jensen leans across the island, removes the plate, and turns back to the sink.
“What?” he says over his shoulder.
“Come here,” Jared says again when Jensen turns the water off and looks back. Jared nods his head in his own direction, waiting for Jensen to comply. He does, and leaves the sink, walking around the island to the end of the bar where Jared is sitting.
“What do you want?” Jensen asks, smirking.
“Thanks.” Jared shrugs shyly, even though he’s not shy. He doesn’t want to forget to thank Jensen for the small things.
Jensen doesn’t reply at first, then says, “Hey, Jared?”
“Yeah?”
Jared’s still sitting in his seat, and Jensen is standing near, his hand reaching out for the edge of the bar to play with the bit of seal along the ledge that’s peeling away. Jared has seen him do it often, subconsciously.
“You said you didn’t want to remember last night…” Jensen says slowly, watching his own fingers. He looks up then and asks, “Why not?”
Jared frowns and looks down. He doesn’t remember a lot of what he said and did last night, and tries to remember why he said what he said.
“Why did you?” he asks instead. Because he does remember that - that Jensen didn’t drink much, that he wanted to remember the evening.
“I don’t know… I guess because it’s all ending, you know? Like you keep saying. And I want to savor it all. Don’t want to lose any time or have any regrets.”
Jared looks up and Jensen’s gaze is both soft and concentrated.
Jared nods, looks down and then back over at Jensen. He understands; he’s had the same thoughts. He’s just had so many other ones, too. He reaches out for Jensen, touches his forearm and slowly closes his hand around Jensen’s wrist, pulling him nearer to where Jared is still sitting in the chair, forcibly closing some of the space between them.
“Jared,” Jensen says, almost like a quiet warning.
Jared isn’t sure what Jensen is warning him about. Then Jensen pulls out of his grip, saying, “Stop molesting me.”
Instead, Jared does the opposite. He turns in his seat, catches Jensen by the arm, and tugs so that Jensen has to take a step forward. He winds up standing between Jared’s legs, where he’s turned toward him. The chair’s height has them seeing almost eye to eye, and Jared swallows nervously now that he has a hold on Jensen and no clue what, exactly, is happening.
But Jensen’s standing very close. And very still. And even if the room still smells like bacon and sausage, Jensen still smells like Jensen and Jared can’t help leaning into it, just a little bit.
And then, he just does it. In the blink of an eye, Jared’s lips are against Jensen’s.
“What are you doing?!” Jensen demands.
Jared blinks, taking a second to realize that Jensen has pushed him away. The oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room as Jared tries to force his mind beyond the split-second of lips that it’s still stuck on. He stares into Jensen’s eyes, finding them hard to read but eventually recognizing the shock and the guard that’s just gone up.
“I don’t want this to end,” Jared says quietly, his voice a marked contrast to the sudden race of his heart. He’s looking down, away from that look in Jensen’s eyes, but his hand still has a hold of Jensen’s wrist, and he feels his own fingers fidgeting over Jensen’s skin involuntarily.
“Yeah, you keep saying stuff like that…!” Jensen replies immediately, exasperation in his voice. “You don’t want it to end. You can’t leave with her. You can’t leave without me. I’ve heard it all! So what’s your deal, man?”
Jensen looks at him hard. Jared removes his hand from his wrist and instead traces the edge of the bar with his fingertips, stitching his thoughts together. If he only understood them, it would make it that much easier.
“I… I don’t know. I just feel…” Jared begins, but the words stick in his mouth and he can’t find the rest of the sentence. He looks to Jensen for help. Jensen always knows what he means, even when he can’t explain it.
“You have to let go some time,” Jensen says gently. His voice is quiet and resigned, as if two minutes ago, Jared’s lips against Jensen’s had simply been an overflow of needy affection, completely normal. An everyday occurrence.
“No. I can’t. Jensen.”
He tries again, and for all the times that Jared has rambled on endlessly, his words are failing him today. He bites down, clenches his jaw. In a fast, fluid motion, he grabs Jensen’s face suddenly, his hands large against Jensen’s cheeks and jaws. Jensen seems startled but reacts by reaching up and gripping both of Jared’s wrists.
Jared looks at him, their eyes doing that thing they did earlier in the kitchen over breakfast. It’s frustrating Jared that he doesn’t know what it means, exactly. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t. Suddenly all he can feel is Jensen slipping through his fingers, their whole five years gone and behind them. Everything forgotten. Their lives moving on. No more Jared and Jensen.
Jared’s eyebrow dips, his nose flares and he swallows hard before standing up and tugging Jensen close again. He lets go of Jensen’s face only to wrap his arms around him and hold on. Hard. And long. And forever.
Jared blinks.
Forever…
He closes his eyes. Amused, he can almost hear the ‘click’ as it falls into place in his mind. He buries his face in Jensen’s neck and feels the warmth of his arms reciprocating the hug. It’s all so perfect. So perfect, and Jared’s been so stupid.
“I love you,” Jared says against Jensen’s neck, and if it’s a little broken, he thinks he can’t be blamed for that.
He feels Jensen swallow and Jared tightens his arms around him.
“Yeah…” Jensen says.
“No,” Jared responds adamantly, pulling back enough so that Jensen can see his face. “I. Love. You.”
He wants Jensen to hear it click, just like Jared did.
Jensen’s eyes lock with his and they look at each other for a very long time, wordlessly, almost breathlessly on Jared’s part, if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t survive without the necessary intake of oxygen. Maybe he should have figured things out a long time ago. But maybe now is the right time.
Now, when he realizes what he stands to lose. As he realizes what he could have had. What maybe he can still have.
Jared lets his hands trail down from Jensen’s shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before he steps around Jensen and leads him by the wrist, slowing walking backwards toward the doorway of the kitchen. Jensen follows, allowing himself to be led, watching Jared steadily.
Jared leads them to his bedroom, where Jensen grows reluctant to cross the threshold. His feet get heavier and he leans back, attempting to slow the progress.
“Jared,” he says, warning again.
Jared ignores it, tugs on his arm and gets them both inside his bedroom where he shuts the door and instantly has Jensen backed up against it. His eyes are wide and dark as Jared presses his body against Jensen’s, appreciating the contact, the touch, the way Jensen’s hand lingers on his shoulder.
They look at each other for two beats before Jared kisses him again. It’s a real kiss, this time. Hard and passionate and breathless. Jensen kisses him back and Jared touches him - his hips and stomach and chest, all covered with layers of clothing that Jared, perhaps for the first conscious moment, realizes he wouldn’t mind removing from Jensen.
The realization should be startling, at his age, at this point in his life. But it isn’t. Because this is Jensen. And for the first time in a long time, clarity seems attainable.
Finally, Jared pulls back from the kiss and rests his forehead against Jensen’s as he catches his breath. Jensen does the same.
Jared says, “You never told me.”
“Told you what?” Jensen asks, searching his eyes.
“That you loved me,” Jared answers simply. All this time, and Jared never knew. Never put it together.
He watches as the corner of Jensen’s mouth slowly lifts and he tilts his head to the side, gaze roving over Jared’s face and slowly meeting his eyes again.
“Of course I loved you,” Jensen says quietly, simply.
Of course, Jared thinks. Just like, he realizes, he has always loved Jensen. Whatever love means. However it’s defined. However it changes, or grows, or shifts in shape and size. It’s always been love.
Jared grins, kisses Jensen again and steps back, dragging him toward the bed. He wonders if it’s too soon to explore whatever this is they’re both finally agreeing too. But then he thinks - really, haven’t they been courting each other for years? Living together for the past two?
He’s not waiting another day, not if Jensen doesn’t want to.
Turns out he doesn’t.
Jared sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Jensen with him, who swiftly captures his lips in a kiss it seems he’s been waiting for, who knows how long. Jared doesn’t have to ask just then, but he thinks some day he will. He leans back, slowly edging them backward along the bed as he lays on his back and reaches for Jensen’s hair, running his fingers over his scalp. Jensen hums into his mouth, nips at his lower lip and licks the love-bite better.
Then Jensen has his hands under Jared’s shirt, and the touch - it’s speaking his language. Jared arches into it, encouraging Jensen for more, until his T-shirt is off and thrown across the room and Jensen’s fingers are making trails all over his chest and stomach. He cups the back of Jensen’s head, holds him close, kisses him senseless until Jensen has to jerk away to catch some oxygen before he passes out. Jared laughs, takes the moment to flip him over and get his T-shirt off.
Jared kisses his bare skin and grins when he hears Jensen suck in a strained breath. He looks up and Jensen is watching him, his hands slowly weaving into Jared’s hair. As if they had always belonged there.
He kisses every inch of skin he can reach before coming back up to kiss Jensen’s lips - lips he’s watched and seen and listened to for so long. Lips he’d never really thought about kissing. Lips that are now the only ones he can fathom wanting to kiss - forever.
Forever…
Jared sucks in a breath as he feels Jensen’s hand over the zipper of his jeans, slowly edging down along the seams. He leans into it, rubbing himself on Jensen’s hand. Jensen lets out an amused breath through his nose, leans up into the kiss, and digs harder against Jared’s jeans.
Jared whimpers. It’s ridiculous. Stupid. But, god, how can Jensen do that to him?
It takes a minute for Jared to realize that his jeans feel suddenly looser, and then there’s skin on skin contact and he forgets how to kiss, forgets how to breathe and he drops down to rest on his forearms, situated on either side of Jensen’s head.
Jensen - who is amused again, smiles up at him, but the smile is warm, and affectionate, his eyes turning slightly darker when they catch with Jared’s.
He should be ashamed of how easily it ends, but he can’t find the strength for shame. Jensen extracts his hand from Jared’s jeans, wipes it on the denim and slowly rolls Jared over. He’s too far gone to protest anyway, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He’s pretty sure he’d do anything Jensen asked him, right in that moment.
Jensen doesn’t ask. He crawls over Jared, kisses him long and slow, explores his mouth, neck, jaw. Touches his chest and stomach, then straddles Jared’s long, bent leg. Jared suddenly feels a bit more aware of what exactly is rubbing hard along his thigh. He reaches for Jensen, heat and need and want thick in the air. He scrapes his nails along Jensen’s scalp, then down his back as Jensen lets out a stilted groan and continues to bring himself off on Jared’s thigh.
He wants to touch, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter. And the whole thing is over so fast - maybe because they’ve wanted it so long. Maybe because they have all the time in the world to try everything there is to do together.
Jensen falls on top of Jared, breathing hard, and sweatier than before. Jared’s fingers trail idly up and down the back of his neck, finding his new favorite spot to touch Jensen. The skin is soft and smooth there. A place he never would have suspected to be so personal, so private. But it is. It’s his place, now.
They don’t say anything, just lay there in their soiled jeans, in the unmade bed, lying together with arms and legs entangled. The world makes more sense from there, anyway.
..:..
It’s hot outside but the breeze feels good. The smell of the ocean, the feel of the sand beneath him, the sounds of dogs and kids and water splashing, pleasant squeals and teasing barks.
Jared smiles as he props himself up on his elbows where he lies on a beach towel in California. The wind, the sun, the heat - it’s all so different from Vancouver. But one thing is the same. Jared smirks as he watches Jensen splashing in the tide. Harley and Sadie are playing a game of chase with him, and Jared’s not sure who’s winning. If he has to judge by who’s splashing the most water, it would certainly be Harley. If the winner is the one who stays the driest, Jensen has definitely lost that one. Sadie conspires against him and the two dogs drag Jensen down into the ocean water. He splutters and laughs and grabs the nearest dog - Harley - giving him a well-earned noogie.
He thinks maybe the dogs have always been in love with Jensen, too. Which is probably a good thing, since Jared is planning on keeping him around.
They have interviews, role-readings, and scripts piling up. Nothing quite like Supernatural. But Jared thinks, really, he’s got the best part of Supernatural still with him.
He’s got Jensen.
THE END.