Fic: 'A Lake Inside My Ocean' (Jared/Jensen; NC-17) 5/5

[ignited]

Masterpost

Part Five

"Are you sure this is all right? You can just give me a yell and we'll go. Like, right now," Jared whispers urgently, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Jensen tips back his large glass, face blurry through the bottom of it. He wraps a hand around Jensen's thigh, a soft pressure that might keep them both grounded. And maybe it's Jensen rubbing off on him too, because he won't turn down touching him as much as possible. It's like a contact high, the feeling he gets. Like a drug, even.

Jared erratically chalks up another reason for them not to be here, because if someone starts passing around special brownies, then Jensen will no doubt be down for the count.

In a way it's like Jensen is taking one for the team-for Jared-as much as he is interested in trying out something new and distinctly human: going out for drinks on a Friday night. Never mind the fact that Jared barely had time to scrub the gunk and fish scales off him after work-Katie insists that he and Jensen come along with the rest of the gang.

She gives him a pointed look as he stares apprehensively at Jensen's large glass, filled to the brim with something fruity and pink.

"You so owe me," Katie says, sitting down abruptly in their booth. The bar is furnished with dark woods and odd memorabilia pinned to the walls between large televisions. Jensen on the other hand looks fascinated with the whole place, grinning up at those people moving by and sitting near, this endless movement as music blasts from speakers. There's even a disco ball and colored lights, moving rays of blues and greens that play against the sharp angles of his face.

Jared leans back, putting an arm around Jensen's back and grabbing Katie close to his side suddenly, making her giggle and push away from him. "And how do I owe you?"

"You missed the last employee volleyball tournament," Katie sniffs.

Jared looks up, trying to calculate the days in his head. "I think I was busy monitoring one of the dolphin calves that day."

Katie rolls her eyes, pushing him back as she braces an arm on his lap, looking over at Jensen. "Too bad you weren't here for that game. We could've used you as a captain!"

"Hey! Taking care of adorable dolphins!" Jared protests. "Isn’t that what we signed up for?"

Jensen gives him a pointed look at that before turning away, twirling the little toothpick umbrella between his fingers, staring at the widescreen television.

As far as the music goes, it's campy 80's music, the mood fun and comfortable. No pounding bass beats, no wailing electric guitar solos. Just Take On Me and awful singing along at times, probably confusing Jensen more than it is educating him, a snapshot of a time that most people might try to forget.

But he's grinning as he takes another drink, and Jared has his share too: he takes long pulls of a Heineken, trying to keep his head clear enough. Katie gets up for drinks and for her boyfriend, because within minutes she's sitting on Aldis' lap, joining in on another conversation.

"Are you having a good time?" Jensen asks, his voice low and lips pressing against Jared's neck, earlobe. He's a little wobbly, shifting his weight to sit closer as his lips brush Jared's neck.

It feels really good, especially since Jensen and personal boundaries don't mix well with alcohol, seeing as he's running a finger along Jared's waistline, a feather light touch of warmth against exposed skin. It's light and barely there, but Jensen's fingers are so damn teasing, a knuckle wrapping around Jared's belt loop and a hand moving to unbuckle Jared's pants-

Jared clears his throat, hitching up his hips, and trying not to spill his beer. "Ah, Jensen! I'm, I'm all right."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Katie waving them over from the far away table.

"Go over there," Jared says with a nod. "You don't have to sit here with me."

"But I'm fine right here," Jensen grumbles. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Yeah but sometimes it'll be like this," Jared responds as he straightens up. He waves the bottle over at the array of people in the bar. "This is how the world is outside of the park. It's not always dolphin shows and cheesy music and…" Jared falters, because Journey is on, Don't Stop Believin' accompanying a round of whooping patrons doing shots. "Go and look around. Talk to people. Have fun. You don't need to stick with me all night."

This time Jensen is the one to roll his eyes, standing up, a hand clasped around Jared's wrist. "I like how you think we don't have parties in the ocean. It's cute. Naïve, but cute."

"Yeah, you gonna tell me they have dolphin keggers?" Jared laughs as his wrist drops and Jensen takes off to talk with Katie and Aldis.

The music's loud and the laughs are loud and frequent, so Jared gets into the thick of it, making a pass around the bar to talk to others. It's fun without the pressure of the workplace, where everyone can joke and relax.

Some of the old stories send a pang of sadness through Jared, because he wasn't there for the time Aldis's brother came down for a weekend and they all went bowling, or the time they went to Austin to see Chris and Steve, the other member of the house band, play with a few buddies. The response is always, "you were busy," "didn't think you were interested," or "I thought you were afraid of dinner theater?"

The last one's Mike, obviously, flopping on the chair next to Jared. Jared doesn't really get a word in edgewise to defend himself, because Mike elbows him as he talks.

"You hear anything back about Dean?" Mike says loudly, in between bursts of electronic music. Someone had messed around with the jukebox. Each heavy beat has Jared sitting up straighter, mouth dry. Drinking on an empty stomach isn't doing his body any favors, and freaking out at Mike won't help either.

Tagging the animals before they're released is standard procedure, but Jared hadn't thought of what 'Dean's' release might mean to others-he'd been too busy trying to deal with this strange and fascinating new person in Dean's place, otherwise occupying the time he would spend training his best dolphin.

"Haven't heard anything yet," Jared responds smoothly. "His tag might've malfunctioned. There's no way to tell right now."

"Ah. Figured I'd ask. You were always hanging out with the guy." Mike shrugs. "Like Winchester and me, you know?"

"You're not his trainer," Jared says, trying to casually sit back and sneak a quick look over at Jensen. There's a group around him, a mix of trainers and workers, carrying on a conversation that Jared is too far away to hear.

One or two girls are close to Jensen, close enough to hang on his every word, and he flirts and banters back. Sure, it sparks some concern, okay, fine, jealousy, on Jared's part, this twitchiness under his skin at the way Jensen manipulates his body language, this dawning realization. This is flirting.

This is not enough alcohol in his system to get all analytical when it comes to Jensen's behavior. Not to mention deal with a curious whale mascot who's scowling at Jared laying out the facts.

"Don't you miss him? Heck, I asked Katie about Wally-" Right, Chad. "-and she's bummed out about him, even if he wasn't the best trained."

"I guess I do," Jared admits. "But he's in a better place right now."

He can't believe how cheesy he sounds. Another gulp of his beer as the heat rises and the music goes up. "It's kind of weird-I took care of him and trained him for fifty, sixty hour work weeks sometimes. And then he gets cleared to go, and I'm happy that he's got a new chance out there, you know? But at the same time it's like I've got a second shot here, try to think about me for once, and all I need to do is not screw it up."

This seems to satisfy Mike for an answer, as his head lolls back on the couch. "That's deep."

When Jared looks over at Jensen, if only for the briefest of moments, the light catches on his eyes, a trick of the light causing this gold green that's unsettling and attractive all at once. He leans into Jared's touch once Jared walks over to him because the urge to get his hands on Jensen right now is too strong to deny.

And if there's a possessive edge to the way Jared puts his arm around Jensen's shoulders, acutely aware of the girls flirting with Jensen, then, well, he can't help it.

By the time people start to leave, Jared starts to really notice Jensen's body language: he’s completely plastered. He'd thought it would be a good experience for Jensen: both out for a night on the town, have some drinks, listen to some music, have fun. It should be simple. But it isn't, of course.

He's wobbling on his bar stool by this point and while Jensen's talking, it doesn't sound much like English. Jared leans in to help steady Jensen and make sure he doesn't dip right off the stool.

Bristling under Jared's grip, Jensen tries to shrug him off as he stands, his gait wobbly as they head towards an empty corner in an otherwise crowded room. Trying to steady Jensen seems useless, because he's staring at Jared's hand-at his own hands-like he's discovered he has thumbs.

Jensen levels his gaze on Jared, dismissing his concern with a smirk. "You don't need to hold onto me, I can find the door myself."

His plan on finding the door involves echolocation, but by the looks of him planting his face on Jared's chest, breathing him in as he makes soft clicks against his t-shirt, it doesn't seem like he can quite remember how to do it.

Each noise feels like a kiss against Jared's collarbone, little pecks of warmth that make Jared hesitate and loosen his grip. He's lifting Jensen up by the chin, ignoring the urge to speak slowly, like that'll pierce through the fog of drink.

"Time to go, buddy," Jared says.

Nodding, Jensen takes a last wave at the revelers, testing out another click of his tongue. "Okay."

*

If Jensen had known ahead of time about all the soreness in his muscles, the tumultuous rolling of his stomach, and the muffling of his ears after spending time in a noisy enclosed space, he might've thought twice about agreeing to any spell.

But that's a lie, because handling a hangover as a human is a great deal different when he has Jared to come to the rescue. Running into the bathroom once they got back had been a great idea, but it's Jared who really puts it to good use, filing the tub with hot water and enough bubble bath to soothe Jensen's aching muscles.

It beats sitting alone in lukewarm water and clicking morosely, feeling all grumpy and achy.

"I should've been paying more attention to you," Jared sighs, setting the toilet seat lid down and sitting there. He picks up the empty, discarded bottle of bubble bath. "I didn't even know this was in here."

Shifting his weight in the tub, he can hear the loud slap of water against the tile, overflowing over the sides. Jensen groans. "My head feels like I followed a sperm whale home."

"I don't know what that means, but uh, ouch, I guess?" Jared leans back, resting a hand on his knee. He nods at the water. "Does that feel a little better?"

"A little," Jensen admits. He pokes weakly at the growing animal sponges floating on the surface, little islands of blue and green sponges between mounds of white bubbles. There are toy orcas and dolphins, too, the kind that blow water when squeezed, float belly up, all items that Chad had gotten a kick out of from the gift shop and kept stuffing in Jensen's locker, the better to steal later.

Bubbles threaten to spill out all over the already sodden bath mat as Jensen competes for shoulder room with the mess of toys, but in a way, it reminds him of how crowded the seas could get.

There's no use being fixated on the glimpses of color, because Jared is an anchor here, bringing Jensen down to reality. "So, you lost control. It happens."

He's tossing it all off with a shrug, Jensen's gut reaction having him jerk up and groan at the pain. "I thought you wanted me to learn how to find control," Jensen grumbles.

"Being human isn't about being in control, Jensen. Sometimes you-in the general sense, I mean, people. People get messy. Things are never perfect. It doesn't work that way."

Jensen slides down, staring at the winding patterns of soap and bubbles on the water's surface. "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends."

Jared sighs. "The last thing I want is for you to not be yourself. Shit happens, man. You go out on a limb and hope for the best."

His hand reaches out to ruffle Jensen's soapy hair. "I just didn't want people to catch on to anything you were saying, you know?"

Jensen scoffs. "Like they'd know the difference."

"I appreciate you trying anyway," Jared ventures, grinning. "You had fun, right?"

Fun used to be being the center of attention: doing behaviors for people, or regaling his subjects with a witty anecdote or two during the gala nights. But now "fun" is tempered with the difficulties of being a human; and no matter how much Jensen can learn from Jared, there's always an instinct in the back of his mind contradicting what this body wants to do.

Sometimes it feels like the only moments where he's in control of both sides to him, are in the bedroom, mind and body lining up in perfect sync.

That night, Jensen dreams of the ocean, the deep, fogged up blue of it, the edge of cliffs and the drop-off that feels like forever. A yawning chasm gives way to a valley of sloping rock and the ruins of a vast stone palace, covered in moss and coral. Arches stand sturdy against the current, as pottery and statues lie in broken pieces, slanting columns and broken roofs filled with nooks and holes to swim around in.

In the middle of it is a hall, a large gallery with an open roof, fish, penguins, stingrays, sharks, and, most importantly, dolphins swimming circles around the perimeter. They dart through the large cracks and crooked doorways of a civilization that's come and gone.

And then Jensen wakes up abruptly, soaked to the skin.

He can feel the sea deep in his bones, calling him back.

Jared rolls over, snuffling a snore against Jensen's shoulder, lips brushing his skin lightly. It's enough to send a chill through Jensen, one that brings him back to the present, Jared slowly waking up.

Jared hums, a questioning tone at the end of it.

"Bad dream," Jensen explains, curling closer to Jared's side. Sweat coats his skin, and this time it feels like the gentle pull of the sea. "Go back to sleep."

*

The morning is off to an okay start, as Jared watches Jensen wake up slowly, licking a line down the corded muscle along Jensen's neck and shoulder. Jensen takes a sharp breath, squirming as Jared murmurs, "Good morning."

But from the moment Jensen wakes up, he's tense and jumpy, shivering at every touch Jared gives him. He looks as though he's ready to go off all of a sudden, barely managing to hobble into the bathroom as Jared looks on, curious.

At work Jensen falls into step with Jared as joins him for an early morning stroll around the park.

"We need to talk," Jensen starts, shoulders hitching up as they walk. He's fidgeting, Jared notices, like the last thing Jensen wants to do is talk-and starting off with a line that comes with its own sense of foreboding, Jared can feel himself get on the defensive.

"Is something wrong?" Jared asks.

"Remember when we first met?" Jensen says softly, as they come up past the iron railings and blooming flowers of one fountain, this plastic rock Shamu monstrosity. "Back at the beach, when I was stranded?"

Jared remembers yelling for air that day, pushing back curious beachgoers like he needed a bigger bubble of space for just him and Dean, because that was all he noticed or cared about. The lift, the truck, all the trainers and rescuers crowded around-hell, even Chad a few yards away, beached and refusing to go back into the water. It was the two of them back then and it's been the two of them from now on.

"Of course I do."

"You know why I was swimming so close to shore?"

"For food," Jared responds plainly. "And, um, human interaction?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Don't make such a big deal about your species, dude."

It's amazing how quick Jared goes from nervousness to laughter, at Jensen using slang so comfortably, but when Jensen is around, it's easy to run through emotions quickly. There's an empty bench right near the Shamu statue, and they settle down, only Jensen pulls away, ducking his head down like the answers are in the palms of his hands.

"Remember how I said I wanted to see the world and get away from my family?" Jensen looks up but not directly at him. "I'm not just some ordinary dolphin, you know what I mean? I'm not a commoner."

Jared nods. "Well, yeah. You're a Bottlenose. Not a Common dolphin."

Jensen cocks his head, acknowledging the joke, lame as it was. "Sure. But I'm also a prince."

Jared stares at him blankly, and heaven help him, he feels a bubble of laughter rise up and escape, one that settles into a nervous giggle as Jensen looks at him stoically, not even cracking a smile.

"You're-you're kidding me, right? Please tell me you're joking."

Jensen straightens, staring at the pavement. "I'm a prince," he repeats as he picks at his jeans. "And Chad's my," Jensen pauses, "Well, he's my royal attendant."

Jensen adds quickly, as if it's an afterthought, "And he's also my best man."

"You're… married?" Jared says, fitting the pieces together.

"No, I'm-I was engaged. I had a partner and I escaped with Chad so I could see the world on my own, away from the kingdom. I didn't want to be forced to marry someone I barely even knew. I can't do that. I wanted to find someone to fall in love with."

Jensen takes a deep breath, looking up at Jared. "And then I fell in love with you."

Where there should be happiness is only this tunnel vision in Jared's brain, blocking out everything around him. There's bitterness on Jared's tongue, a taste that's flat and dull. "You're engaged."

It makes Jared over analyze the past few months, second guessing his interactions. For 'Dean' to learn all the behaviors so easily without any correction or delay had left Jared thinking he had a special case on his hands.

But it's been a lie upon another lie, manipulation of what he thought was this growing understanding. But above all he feels used, like he'd given too much of himself to Jensen. Wondering if it'd all been a game, and he's just been something else to learn and use and discard.

He knows it's wrong to lay the blanket excuse, but he squares his shoulders as he says, "Promiscuity in dolphins isn't uncommon."

"Jared," Jensen says, startled, edge of anger in his voice, "it's not like that-"

"Then how is it like? You said you wanted to learn about the human experience. And you know, for a while there, I believed you. But you can't…"

Jared trails off, shaking his head. "I don't know what kind of kingdom or society or whatever you're used to, but you can't just use people for kicks. You can't just use me to get out of your god damn engagement!"

When Jared gets up, Jensen's surprised at how deadly calm he is, how his voice doesn't quiver a bit. "I'm not some summer fling, and I don't want to be your, your whatever you wanted me to be! Some kind of dry-land booty call," Jared bites his lip. "This isn't how it's done, Jensen."

Jensen starts to stand up, starts to reach out and grab Jared by the wrist, but he shrugs him off, ignoring the ache inside as Jensen pleads. "No, Jared, it's-"

"You were lying to me from the start," Jared accuses, trying to keep his voice down at the scattering of workers heading towards their buildings, sending furtive glances as they walk. Soon, the park will be open and filled with life and music, not to mention the gossip that'll start behind the scenes, once they've taken a good look at their display. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

"Jared," Jensen repeats, but Jared is already out of his reach, taking a step back.

"No, Jensen," Jared says firmly. "I can't. I don't want-"

Jensen's breath catches, and he stammers, or whatever it is that comes out of his mouth, a wheezing and frantic clicking sound. It's as close to a stammer as he gets.

"I don't want to feel like your whore," Jared says, turning to leave, trying to ignore the inevitable gaze that must be following him as he goes.

*

Never telling Jared the truth might have been the best option, Jensen thinks as he wanders through the park. Now he's completely at a loss for what to do.

Normally he would turn to Chad for support. Hell, even Jim, if only to get berated, being told, "what else did you expect?".

The roof is where Jensen thinks he'll get some semblance of quiet, and, naturally with his luck, a near heart attack, because that's when Misha shows up, suddenly sitting cross-legged next to Jensen as though he'd been there all along.

Jensen jerks in surprise, feeling a sharp sense of vertigo by the roof's edge when Misha flatly says, "Hello, Jensen."

"Holy shit!"

"I wish. Holy dung get amazing vacation hours," Misha replies, quirking his mouth. "Since you look like you're about to hork, I'm guessing you told Jared?"

"Yeah, I did," Jensen says, moving to sit beside Misha, trying to get a little to get comfortable. "Things didn't go well."

"You expected they'd go any better?"

He sticks his chin out, gritting his teeth. "No. But I wanted to be honest with him. I just need more time to explain myself. He didn't give me any. He just… walked away."

Misha sighs, his head bowing, this slow, sad shake of his head. When he looks up, Jensen can feel his stomach drop, because the look he gives isn't reassuring. It's pity. "I can't break the rules anymore than I already have."

Frowning, Jensen leans forward, the roof edge overlooking the streams of people moving into the stadium. Everyone is off continuing with their happy lives while Jensen is negotiating his own, because the alternative to this not working out is something he's not even going to think about.

"They want you back," Misha says, nodding in one direction.

Jensen knows it's the southeast, because if he takes time to listen, he can hear and feel it-the sound and lull of the ocean a hundred miles away, calling to him. It's stronger than it's been in months, as though the need has never been greater than now.

It's a calling he can't deny, as much as he wants to: not even Jared can protect him from the wrath of the ocean, because who's to say that there isn't a risk of Jared being hurt the next time he steps foot in the ocean as retaliation? Or revenge?

Jensen hesitates and Misha catches onto that. "If he does love you, he'll understand. You have to give him time."

"But I don't have any time!" Jensen snaps. "Come on. You've got to help me out here."

"There's only so much I can do for you," Misha says, getting to his feet. Jensen follows, turning away from the roof edge. "Your time is up."

"What about Chad?"

"Chad has his own path. He may lead a life he chooses."

"That isn't exactly fair."

"Jensen," Misha says, with a faint smile. "I think you more than anyone else should know that life isn't fair. Some days you wake up and some crafty sea turtle's taken away your blowhole."

*

Going through a break up in an amusement park has to be ten times harder than any other workplace. Everyone's so cheery and happy around Jared, from the enthusiastic audiences to the perpetually grinning dolphins, making his own problems feel like a glaring dark stain on their sunshine.

The dolphins might look happy; but they're definitely pissed off at Jared for breaking up with Jensen.

A large part of training the dolphins has to do with monitoring their vitals and behavior. That becomes quite hard to do when he's suddenly become persona non grata in the dolphin world, judging by the way they slap their tails and clap their jaws at him, signs of anger. Ironically it turns out to be like this strange type of divorce: Jared gets the humans while Jensen gets the animals.

Everyone else is completely baffled as to how the animals are unresponsive to him, and it stings to have the hapless shrugs and looks of pity thrown his way when a command to 'handshake' has him getting sprayed in the face with water instead.

"Have you been using different hand signals? Perhaps you're not getting through to them," Lauren calls over, clipboard in hand. Seated down near her, Alona, one of the newer trainers, rubs Spirit's head, sending a confused look Jared's way.

"No, nothing," Jared answers, ignoring the urge to clamber out of the tank. "I've always done the same stuff."

Always, because he knows Jensen-no, wait, it was when he was Dean, well whoever he was, he didn't like it when Jared got his signals or commands mixed up by accident.

It's completely unfair how Jensen still seeps into Jared's thoughts, like the foods he liked or the movies he'd watch, or the type of jeans he'd agree to wear after finally agreeing that 24/7 in spandex might not be a great idea, stripping down his wetsuit to show the little bumps of irritation peppering down his side.

"You have sensitive skin," Jared had said, laughing at Jensen's annoyed face.

If the animals could talk to him they'd probably be telling him off.

Then, of course, there's the cheery park to deal with, like the rows of blue, green, and hell, even purple dolphins at the gift shop, this glittery, rubbery sea of merchandise. Squealing kids weave in and out of the area, some barely reaching Jared's waist, crying and yelling at their parents to buy them whatever cutesy merchandise they can get their hands on.

There's something inherently wrong in how Jared really wants to punch a load of stuffed animals in the face.

But he's here, because it's after work and Katie wanted to drop by and catch up with Danneel and Sophia.

In any other day, Jared would be totally fine with it. Except that this particular gift shop employs Chad, who's already gravitating to an empty register right near Jared.

For one blissful second, Jared can swear Chad is ready to drift back out, this hesitant hitch of his shoulders, like he's recognized an old acquaintance and he's trying to find a place to bail. But Chad doesn't back down; he's marching on. "Hey, Jared."

"I'm not talking to you," Jared says. "I'm not doing the whole 'I tell you stuff and then you report back to Jensen about how miserable I am' deal. It's not going to work."

"Aha, so you're miserable? His majesty will be pleased," Chad says, twining his fingers in a sinister manner.

It's really tempting to try and punch Chad. Jared thinks he must get that a lot.

"Kidding! I just thought we'd let bygones be bygones. There's no point in trying to give any advice to you two," Chad says.

"Okay," Jared says tentatively, but Chad is nowhere near done.

"I mean it's not like he's blameless for not telling you the truth sooner. What the hell do I know, anyway? I just helped the guy break out of his kingdom so he could finally see the world for himself and learn about you humans and maybe escape a loveless, arranged marriage he felt confined to."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Reverse psychology isn't going to work either."

"Oh, come on," Chad exhales, thinking for a moment. He spreads his hands out in front of him, saying bluntly, "You're what he wants. You're why he's here."

Jared braces a hand on the counter edge, barely able to believe that Chad's not bullshitting him but Chad's usual smirk is completely wiped from his face. Shit. He's not lying. "So, what? You're telling me that I'm not just some kind of excuse he can use to get out of his engagement."

"What, Jessica? Her?"

"Who?"

"Never mind who. She's not-" Chad sighs. "Look, Jared. He's always been a stand up guy. Yeah, he's a prince and kind of a dick sometimes, but he's always been stuck doing what's expected. Then his parents told him he's got to marry someone he doesn't love and-"

"That's great, Chad," Jared breaks in. "I'm glad Jensen's been lying to me all this time."

"Oh, don't be a bitch, bitch," Chad says. "Like you always do everything on the straight and narrow?"

Jared resists wiping that smirk off Chad's face.

"I mean doing what you're supposed to? Where's the fun in that? Life's supposed to be an adventure. Arranged marriages blow! You've got to hear Jensen out. He doesn't have time-"

Jared shakes his head. "I can't, Chad. I just can't."

Relief and disappointment washes over him when Katie comes over to him, tugging him away, his conversation with Chad cut short.

*

Jensen tried just about everything to get Jared's attention, hoping for a free minute to explain. Jared inevitably finds a loophole out of every conversation. In a busy environment like this, it's easy to do it-whether it's a large influx of giddy campers or when one of the calves needs monitoring, there is always an excuse for work to get in the way.

The closest Jensen gets after their fight is when he's trying to break up an argument between Gabe and Milo, brushing up on his own rusty diplomat skills.

'Come on, you don't need to fight over fish,' Jensen says, resting on his haunches and rubbing Milo's head. A tall shadow blots out the smooth dolphin's flank, and it doesn't take long for the shadow to speak up.

"That's cheating," Jared murmurs. Getting Jared to finally speak is its own special prize, because as Jensen squints in the sunlight up at him, the smirk there is plain as day. A quick twitch of his lips and Jared leaves, muttering about cleaning the tank.

Jensen gets it. Jared has every right to be angry at him. But in an event where Jared needs time and space for the wound to heal, Jensen doesn't have much time left.

After that day, it's the first sign to break the ice. They start to work side by side again well-once Jensen tells the animals to lift their so called boycott against Jared-but as soon as work is over, they split and go their separate ways. It would be enough if it wasn't for the knowledge that once work ends, Jensen has to wait until morning to see Jared again. Every morning brings him closer to the last day of the spell.

Before all this, all he needed was to swim. It came natural as breathing did, but swimming until his muscles burned and lungs ached for air. It's an adrenaline rush he misses, soaring up and waiting to crash back down. A wild and crazy joyride used to clear his head.

It's scary to imagine a world without swimming, but it's scarier to imagine a world without Jared.

So when Jared heads back home, Jensen is left cooped up with Chad, drinking beer and watching reruns of Flipper. And while Flipper is one of their finest actors-always cursing up a storm whenever the humans give him commands-it doesn't make up for the Jared-sized hole in his chest.

Metaphorically speaking of course. It would be horrible to have a human-sized hole in his human-sized body. A considerably larger-sized human, to boot.

*

The last day of the spell starts out like any other morning. Jensen manages to wake early and pull on a hoodie, feeling an ache in his muscles. He shuffles into the parking lot, throat tasting like copper and a hint of toothpaste he didn't wash away.

Little things, little human routines seem harder to keep up with when he's tired.

Tired and alone, comes the thought, as he hears that deep, rich laugh behind him, trailing off with hellos to the other workers.

Out back behind the employee area in the parking lot, the trucks are being loaded up with equipment and small coolers. At first glance, it looks as though they're getting ready for an afternoon trip to the beach, but once Jensen sees the trucks and lift equipment, old memories come back to the surface.

"Big day today, huh?"

Jared looks like he's just woken up, eyes puffy, bangs plastered to his forehead from his morning shower. Shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

Jensen can feel his fingers open and close, desperate to touch him, reassure him with a steady hand. But it's like he's changing already, his animal nature rising to the surface. How easily his feelings shift to the purest form, to need and want.

To lust, if his stare and Jared's awkward shuffle is anything to go by.

"Yeah," Jensen manages to say, clearing his throat. His voice sounds scratchy and weird, and he feels hot, too, not because of the weather or the clothes, more like he's feverish. The heat inside starting to make him dizzy. "Guess it is."

Jared though, seems to pick up on it. Suddenly he's standing close, all awkwardness gone, concern on his face. Crowding Jensen, shoulder bumping as they stand near one of the nearby SUVs, side emblazoned with the blue SeaWorld logo. The air feels sticky and moist with humidity, already working its way into Jared, judging by the pit stains on his shirt.

"Are you all right?" he finally says, raising a hand to touch but he stops, hesitating. "You look like you've got a fever."

"I'll live," Jensen responds as he squints up at the overcast sky. "How many are stranded?"

"They think it's a pod," Jared sighs, bracing an arm on the roof of the SUV. "There have been reports that the coastal dolphin activity has gone up in the past few months. You know anything about that?"

He's tapping the roof now, this pause as though he's giving Jensen the chance to speak up about it. Whatever pull the sea might have on him doesn't work in reverse-he can guess as much as Jared as to what is going on, still left in the dark with Jared being the only thing he's looking out for.

"They might be looking for me," Jensen ventures. "But I don't know anything more than that."

The tapping stops and Jared pushes off the SUV, his eyes narrowing. "All right."

He gives a wave with two fingers, then heads over to one of the waiting SUVs, nearly bumping into Chad. From the look Chad's giving him, the day is becoming more foreboding, because there's no smile there, no smirk. Just complete seriousness as Chad hooks an arm around Jensen's shoulder and takes him aside.

"What are you doing?" Chad asks, his voice low. "Are you heading out with them?"

"What other choice do I have? It's over. I'm not going to stay here and change back. I can't pretend none of this ever happened," Jensen says. "And the thought of just being 'Dean the Dolphin' again?" Jensen sighs. "I can't do it anymore."

"Yeah. The dolphin show schedule's kind of a bitch," Chad agrees. "And hey, you've got your own audience back home waiting for you."

Jensen scowls at him, but Chad cuts off any snide remark, saying, "You have obligations to your people. Like an explanation, at least."

Jensen nods, clapping Chad on the back. "You, uh, want to come with?"

"Nah," Chad says, punching Jensen on the shoulder. "I think I'll stick around here for a while. Maybe hitch a ride to Hollywood, get my big break."

"Or you can continue to live off of Jim," Jensen says. "Like a barnacle."

Chad beams. "That sounds like an awesome plan. We don't have to hug, right? You look like you're about to hork."

"I'll be fine," Jensen says, waving off his concern, ignoring the scratchiness in his throat as he tries to speak. "Do me a favor. If, um, if anyone asks why, make up the most ridiculous story."

"Really?" Chad says, and Jensen can see what the humans call the wheels turning in his head. "First thing I'm doing, I'm going with alien abduction. Humans really seem to be freaked out by people living up in space. Can't wait until a real sea monster decides to surface and really make 'em wet their pants."

"Thanks," Jensen says, sincerely, ignoring Chad's invocation of the Great Old Ones. He turns around and heads toward the cars. Towards home.

Jared stands in between the cars. He turns his head away when Jensen catches his gaze.

Once they're all loaded up, the drive to the coast takes a few hours, with Aldis driving, Katie riding shotgun, and Jensen sharing the back seat with Jared. They're trying to attain some kind of normalcy by focusing on the scenery outside. Better to look at the trees and skies than think about the sun moving across the sky and how the minutes tick ever closer to his impending change.

With the radio blaring and the walkie-talkies on stand by, Katie is carrying on a few conversations at once. She'll sing along with the radio before she'll quiet down when the loud static pop of the Coast Guard come on. Then there's the endless phone calls relaying directions between the trucks and SUVs. It's hard to carry a conversation with all these interruptions, which works out since they're both unsure of what to talk about.

The ride takes a turn for the awkward when Jensen pulls away from the window, trying to ignore his pale reflection. The skin on his neck is almost grey in patches, like he's suffering from some weird rash or skin discoloration. When Jensen catches Jared staring at him curiously, his shoulders hitch, pulling the collar of his hoodie up.

"I haven't been to the beach in months," Jensen says. "It'll be good to go back."

"Yeah," Jared says distractedly, staring out the window.

Jensen shifts his weight uneasily, eyeing a spot on Jared's thigh, a bleach stain on his jeans. "I'm sorry."

Almost too quick to notice, Jared's mouth twists a little, right at the corners. Jensen knows enough now to recognize that it's not a smile.

They're quiet for the rest of the trip, going their separate ways when they arrive at the shore and docks. A boat is loaded up and ready to go and patrol the area, trying to search for a possible cause for the beachings.

Jensen hesitates before he steps onto the boat, almost stumbling into Jared.

Within twenty minutes out to sea, a murky set of clouds roll in, the sky darkening and going overcast. The first thunderclap hits, a loud crack in the darkening sky.

"Looks like a storm," Jared whispers, his knee knocking into Jensen's leg for the fifth time since they've sat together. The boat isn't very big-it's not even close to the size of the booze cruise boat that led to Jensen being stranded on land. It's a diving boat, with low railings all around, the easier to fall back on and plunge with the heavy equipment strapped to their backs. Only they haven't suited up, not for this.

Jensen doesn't answer, instead focusing his gaze on the horizon. The pinpricks of grey dolphin heads bobbing up out of the water about a few hundred feet out. The small pod remains still, as though they're aware of who's on the boat, sizing up the rest of the group.

Aldis holds onto the controls, lifting a pair of binoculars to his eyes. "Why aren't they moving?"

"Maybe they want to see what happened to the other members of the pod," Katie suggests, waiting for Aldis to pass over the binoculars. "That's weird."

"That's creepy, that's what it is," Aldis says. "Am I the only one who saw that Simpsons episode with the dolphin invasion?"

Getting to his feet is hard with the constant rocking of the boat, but Jensen manages to do so, feeling Jared grasp for his arm. "You all need to go back to shore right now," he says urgently.

Katie and Aldis look over at Jensen like he has two heads, and he pretty much feels like it. His head is spinning.

"Why?" Jared asks, brow furrowing. "What's the matter?"

"I can't stay here. The sea wants me back."

Before Jared can respond, another burst of thunder is heard above and the water beneath the boat gets choppier, viciously slapping against the boat. Jared starts to shout at Katie and Aldis, telling them to hold on to something, but his own grip on the railing gets loose when an especially hard wave makes the boat buck up, slapping back down, throwing everyone off-balance.

It sends Jared crashing, his head smacking against the railing before he falls backwards into the water, slipping out of Jensen's reach.

There's no question that Jensen will dive in after Jared, momentarily stunned at the pressure that starts to pull at him, how the water fills his nose and mouth, threatening to fill his lungs.

Being out at sea is a far cry from being in a pool or water park. The water goes on in every direction, a wall of blue filled with bubbles and microscopic particles that could suffocate him right now if he lets it.

He doesn't feel the change happen yet, too occupied with Jared than checking the sky to see how close he is for it to occur.

Once he gets his bearings, Jensen twists his body and pushes down, plowing through the water in quick strokes to find Jared. A wispy trail of dark liquid emanates from Jared's temple, a fresh burst of blood that barely misses Jensen's eyes as he loops his arms around Jared's chest.

There's this biological urge or instinct, or whatever it is, it spells out air, breathe air in Jensen's mind, trying vainly to swim up to the surface. But Jared is too heavy and woozy, limbs hanging uselessly. Jensen offers Jared a little shake of his shoulder, mouth opening to release a stream of bubbles.

"Swim," Jensen mouths once Jared meets his eyes. And so Jared does, coming into consciousness as Jensen half-drags him up through the water.

Soon enough, their heads break through the surface, taking in great gulps of air. Jensen whips his head around, bobbing in the waves and seeing the boat not far off, the current not as strong as it was a minute ago. Katie and Aldis are shouting at them frantically, trying to get the boat to turn around.

"Jared!" Jensen shouts, sputtering as he hacks up a mouthful of water. It's cold enough to have him shiver, but he's still clinging to Jared, trying to push some warmth into him. "Can you hear me?"

Jared nods, teeth chattering. "Yes."

"Now we're even," Jensen says, trying to keep it light and failing miserably. Above him, he can see the clouds and sun streaked sky, feeling the sea pull at him. But Jared's safe now, and that's what matters. The water is still choppy but there's a light blooming out from underneath, luminous and pale blue. His head snaps up, pricks and needles going up his legs, this sudden urge to talk and stay, because this is a bad idea, he can't leave yet. He's babbling, trying to get his words out over the loud rush of waves.

"I'm sorry, Jared, I wanted to tell you-"

The water starts to churn around them, a strange whirlpool that has them both struggling to keep afloat.

Jensen moves forward with purpose, grabbing Jared, hands on his face as he kisses him fiercely.

It's hard to say goodbye when he feels like a weight settling on his chest, the water starting to spark and foam as though it's boiling. Even harder when he feels like his skull is splitting open, water and air rushing in, this heaviness that drags him down underwater.

His clothes split and tear, that familiar ripple through his skin and bones. The water's surface pulls away as his body shifts and grows. Where it had been harder to swim and breathe comes a feeling of calm and relaxation in a body-his old body-that's made for this environment.

His lungs burn as he pushes to the surface, taking in air and the sight of a shocked Jared.

Another push of his tail and he's already swimming away, the pod of waiting dolphins following after him.

*

By the time they get back to the park, Jared's mood is somber and numb, while the trip is written off as a success for all involved. Jensen's disappearance and Jared's head wound notwithstanding. Katie and Aldis are too shell shocked to talk about just what happened, steadfastly denying seeing the burst of light and a dolphin coming out, because it sounds too insane. Jared can relate.

But then he sees there's no official log of Jensen ever going on the boat with them-he's never been here, never showed up to work that day, they decide. "He's left town," Jared hears Katie saying, this repetition that passes more as an excuse than a wistful reassurance-like he's left for business but he'll be back in no time.

Jared knows it isn't true; none of it is. He wonders if it has whatever it is that brought Jensen to him in the first place, that a spell that creates a human out of thin air and snatches him away just as quickly, that it has the power to make it seem like he's ceased to exist. That it's too strange to think about, to accept. He laughs bitterly, thinking of how conveniently everything was when Jensen came into his life.

And it's just as easy for him to leave it.

It doesn't help that Chad and Jim the janitor are the first to meet Jared when he gets out of the SUV, his head bandaged. Anger flares up in Jared, but he needs some damn answers as to why he's still here and Jensen isn't.

"I know you've got a lot of questions," Chad says, leaning on the edge of the desk. They're in one of the offices, a sense of ironic normalcy throughout-just hours ago, he'd been drowning in the vastness of the ocean, but here he is in a room with cheap desks and mounds of paperwork, everything drab and ordinary.

"Yeah? You think?" Jared bites out, his leg pumping. "'Cause you happened to leave that part out."

He looks over at Jim. "And why the hell are you here?"

If looks could kill, Jared is sure he would've evaporated by now, the way Jim is staring at him. Jared flinches, his hand going to the bandage, as though being wounded might stop Jim from smacking him.

"I did the same thing that Jensen did thirty years ago," Jim explains. "Only I wasn't half the fool he was. Didn't have a kingdom to look after."

"If his-his kingdom or his fiancé or whatever," Jared starts, too angry to process that Jim is a former dolphin, "if that's all so important to him, then why'd he leave in the first place?"

"'Cause the boy was a fool and that damn sea turtle gave him a way to escape," Jim replies. He looks to Chad, as if waiting for him to deny it, but Chad says nothing, keeping his head down.

"Sea turtle?" Jared thinks stalling might be a good idea. Because if there's magical sea turtles involved, then he really needs an aspirin. He fumbles in the drawer nearby, pushing aside pens and Post-It notes as Chad answers.

"Misha. He's a wish-granting sea turtle. Sometimes he shows up as a human. He's the one responsible for all this."

Jared sighs, wanting to rub his temples before his right hand comes in contact with the bandage. Scowling he rubs the bridge of his nose. "What about you, Chad? Why didn't you go back with him?"

"I could go back, too, but what's the point?" Chad shrugs. "He doesn't need me watching over him anymore. Plus, can't get HBO there. And I'm hooked on True Blood."

Jared nods distractedly, trying to piece it all together. "If Jensen wished to be human, then why couldn't he stay? Didn't Misha ever hear of no take backs?"

"This ain't the school playground, Jared," Jim says, moving to sit next to Jared on the desk, looking pleased as hell when Jared flinches. He's just trying to be safe, damn it, and it's pretty hard to do so when he's suffering a head wound and the ache in his chest, that's pressing down just as hard as the water had been mere hours before.

Jim continues, "It's not easy. These kind of things come with conditions. I was in the same place Jensen was in. But I didn't have the fancy background he did. I was mindin' my own business and I met this woman and fell in love. But I had my chance. I got to be human, got a life with her. God rest her soul, but I wouldn't have traded that time I had with her for anything.

"I loved her and she loved me. That's how I stayed," Jim finishes, pulling off his cap as he wipes his brow.

"Are you saying...?" Jared trails off, because if that's what Jim is saying, then Jared… doesn't want to face the truth now. That it can't possibly be that.

It can't be that Jensen loved him and-Jensen loving Jared, he can admit that it feels true deep down, but he can't bring himself to admit that love here is a two way street, and he'd never told Jensen how he felt. Jared might be confused but he does still have feelings that are certainly the strongest he's ever felt for someone. But time, tricky thing that it is, has run out.

And now Jared has had the rug pulled out from under him, the bliss of something brilliant and new snatched before he could get used to the change.

Chad shrugs. "Could've been worse. He could be sea foam right now."

Both Jared and Jim stare at him, this awkward pause as Chad raises his hands up. "Sorry! Guy gets bored, sometimes he'll crack open a book about this stuff."

Strange as though it may be, Jared latches on to Chad's comment-book. Research. If there's one thing Jared is good at, it's research. His own work might be languishing in the unfinished pile, but the least he can do is try to figure out a way to bring Jensen back, right? There has to be a way to reach him.

Baby steps, Jared realizes. "I need to talk to Misha," he says, already moving to get up. Jim grabs Jared by the arm, pulling him down.

"The best thing for you to do right now is take a breather," Jim states.

"I can't sit around here and do nothing!" Jared snaps, his voice cracking at the end of it. "Who knows what they're doing to him!"

"Throwing him a parade… His dad chewin' his ear off… Endless torment by shrimp…" Chad ticks off each option on his fingers. "They're a very enthusiastic bunch. Flicking their tails all over you. It's not enjoyable," Chad says, shaking his head.

Jim stands up, and this time his grip is calmer but steadying, his gaze locked with Jared's. He can't see anything remotely dolphin in Jim-other than the calm grace, perhaps, the stubbornness. Thirty years might not seem like much to other people, but for Jim, just the fact that he's been set in a world he's unused to, and then dealing with it on his own now… Jared doesn't want to let Jensen be alone like that.

Jared doesn't want to be alone, either. He needs Jensen here, now.

"Give it time. Misha isn't gonna come to you first thing. According to those two knuckleheads, he pops in whenever he chooses, so get yourself some rest, first. Then once you talk to him, you'll get your options."

Jared agrees with him, but that doesn't help the fact that the ache inside him is getting stronger.

*

Despite the fact that Chad and Jim are now comfortable with talking to Jared about everything ocean related-and everything Jensen-it doesn't make up for the fact that without Jensen around, after a few days things start to fall into place just as they had been before, without a ripple of upset.

Between Chad's elaborate tales of alien abduction and the old fashioned option, he has business elsewhere, people around the park are sad to see Jensen go, but no one is near as sad as Jared. His hours get longer and he doesn't protest the fact-with a TiVo filled with a backlog of Animal Planet documentaries and old Law & Order: SVU repeats, he has his share of entertainment.

If he buries the stack of ocean-related DVDs in the back of his cabinet, well, it's not like he's avoiding the issue. He faces it head on every single day, only it's become less of his job and more like going through the motions, that uneasiness more present than ever.

It doesn't help that a week after Jensen leaving, Jared is feeding Winchester when Misha finally decides to show up. Not in turtle form, so there's that, at least.

"You must be Jared! I'm Misha," he says, grabbing Jared's hand and pumping energetically. "It's an absolute pleasure. How's the head?"

Misha isn't what Jared is expecting. Of course, he's glad Misha is a human at the moment rather than a sea turtle, so they can communicate. He didn't expect the crazy outfit though. It's kind of horrifying to see a 90's bedazzled woman's blouse matched with Santa-style red pants, white fur cuffs and all.

The stadium stands are empty and Misha's sitting in the splash zone of the seats, right in the first row. He has this weird twitchiness to him that unsettles Jared.

Jared lowers the bucket of fish, trying to ignore the ludicrousness of the situation. Standing in a wetsuit with a gigantic whale behind him, and here's Misha, giving him a toothy grin.

"What did you do to Jensen?" Jared says. It's the first thing that comes to mind and he tries not to glare when Misha sighs and rolls his eyes, like he's boring him.

"What didn't I do to Jensen? Jared, I'm surprised. You know what I did," Misha says. "You read about it in your studies."

Jared folds his arms. "Shapeshifting? Mermaids?"

"The Encantado. Ah, now you get it," Misha says lightly as Jared jerks in recognition of the term. "You know, my wish-granting license was revoked in Brazil."

"But you're a turtle."

"So judgmental," Misha sniffs. "I come from a long line of wish-granters. They never mention the turtles unless we're mutant turtles. Donatello was my favorite."

It's like having a conversation with the Mad Hatter. Only if the Hatter was more insane and was wearing an 80's style Let's Get Physical headband.

Winchester presses his nose against the glass, an impatient whine in the water. The bucket is still full of fish, and Jared is too nervous to turn around and feed him, because one wrong move and Misha could be gone just as sudden as he arrived. There's no knowing how powerful he is, but judging by the man that Jensen was, he must be pretty damn powerful.

"That was the whole plan all along? For Jensen to take me with him?"

"No. There wasn't a set plan," Misha says, pulling out a box of Cracker Jacks from thin air. "I gave him the tools to try and win your heart, and by the looks of it, he succeeded. Moping doesn't become you."

When Jared scoffs, it's an automatic response, the forced laughter shrill enough to make him wince. "Yeah, well, he had someone else waiting at home for him."

"What, the arranged marriage? Some of us can't help what we're born into. We either carry it out, or we change it. Monotony is boring, don't you think? I was supposed to be an evil wish-granter but I decided to err on the side of good. No matter what the Brazilian authorities might claim. It's not like I tried to inspire an uprising again."

"What the hell does that mean to me?" Jared asks.

"Do you love Jensen?"

"What?"

"Easy question, I say answer with yes, no, or aardvark."

"I-" Jared should say no. Even if Misha can tell it's a lie, he should lie. He should ignore how it's a phantom ache inside of him, that he can't contemplate never seeing Jensen again. He should say that he can't forgive Jensen, that he's thick-headed enough to harden his heart. That he can ignore the forgiveness brimming inside, threatening to wash away all his anger, until there's nothing left but regret and the desperate, half-insane notion that he could set things right.

"Well?"

"Yes, I love him."

"I did say one word so I should dock you but you have wonderful hair," Misha says, like that explains everything. "I'd like to help."

"Help?" Jared scoffs, incredulous. "I'm here, and he isn't. There's no changing that."

"Maybe there is," Misha says slowly, a grin spreading on his face again, this dawning idea that has Jared taking a precarious step back. A crackling pop goes off in Jared's ears, like a plane taking off. He winces and pulls at his earlobes, a weird muffling noise turning sharper and sharper as he hears Winchester whine in the tank again.

Only this time, it's not the soft moan of an orca. It's actual words.

'You better throw that fish in already,' Winchester is saying. 'If you know what's good for you!'

Jared staggers, this double take that has him staring at Misha, then Winchester, and back again. "How?"

Misha shrugs. "I think another three months to sort out your affairs is a good idea. Go for broke, Jared, get your own apartment. Less chance of Chad setting up a house party there."

And he disappears just like that, with Winchester still grumbling about the fish behind Jared.

*

It doesn't take three months like Misha said.

According to Jensen, it takes about seven different persuasive conversations with various coast guard employees and one very shocked boat of confused fishermen. It takes the kindness of strangers to offer to drop off the dripping wet and quasi-naked guy to the nearest bus station. It takes the pity of a class of very trusting fifth-graders to let him hitch a ride in the backseat of their bus during their class trip.

It takes approximately two days, five hours and forty-seven minutes for Jensen to walk back into Jared's life wearing stolen board shorts and a "Remember the Alamo" t-shirt.

Jared blinks in shock and drops the entire bucket of fish into the penguin habitat. They scramble and jump at him in some kind of frenzy as they celebrate a surprise feast.

Ignoring the Rockhopper penguin tugging at his ankles, Jared climbs over the edge of the habitat to where Jensen is. He's human and he needs a shave. It looks like he hasn't eaten or drank in days because his lips are cracked and his eyes have dark bags under them. But Jared doesn't hesitate, grabbing Jensen by the shoulders, feeling the real skin and muscle and him underneath the palm of his hands.

Jensen smiles bigger than Jared's ever seen him, lines at the sides of his eyes crinkling.

"So, I heard you love me?" he says.

Jared finds his voice after a moment, scanning Jensen's face. It's hard to talk when he realizes Jensen's here now, that this is real. "How did you-?"

"One minute I'm down below negotiating a new border treaty, and the next I'm human and I'm swimming to the surface for air and I just-" Jensen licks his lips, taking a deep breath. "I just knew."

"But Misha said would take three months!" Jared says. "It's only been two days since I talked to him. I thought I was supposed to live my own life."

Jensen scoffs, "Misha... He was fucking with you. He does that."

"Yeah, and then he gave me the power to understand sea creatures," Jared adds, feeling weird about putting it out there like that. Jensen understands, sure, but it's still feels strange.

Jensen cocks his head. "Wait, what?"

Jared shrugs, gesturing to the nearby penguins. "It's been... interesting? Crazy but interesting. The sea lions really like me. All the sharks tend to have a lisp. Jeff keeps asking me to bring him lunchables or trick Mike into rubbing his tongue. And I'm pretty sure the penguins have started a cult very loosely based on Scientology."

Jensen grabs Jared's face, raising an eyebrow. "Do I have to speak in Dolphin to get your attention?"

Jared shakes his head. "No. But I still have a lot to learn."

"I could teach you, since I'm sticking around for good this time," Jensen says carefully.

"I love you," Jared says, and that's his answer. This time, it doesn't feel hard to say at all. It's effortless.

"I love you too, Jared," Jensen says fondly, cupping Jared's cheek. He pushes away his wet bangs, thumb brushing droplets off. "Just. Don't recite the Dolphin Alphabet again. Ever."

Jared rolls his eyes, and takes a cue from Jensen, muffling any other comment when Jared's mouth catches Jensen's own, tongue prodding, soft and then sure.

"Yeah. I'll try to remember that," Jared says with a laugh.

end