Fic - "Single Male Seeking Same" | J2 | NC-17 | Part 3
part 1 | part 2 |
Jared discovered Jensen drooled in his sleep, and that he drank his coffee black even though he would prefer to dump sugar in it. He found out that Jensen was a horrible chess player, though what he lacked in skill, he made up in sheer stubbornness. He grinned to himself when he learned that Jensen was an impatient teacher, though Jensen'd sit still long enough to teach Jared the basics of the guitar, his calloused fingers matched over Jared's in ways that sent all Jared's blood rushing to his crotch. If Jared stretched out the lessons just a little long, the feel of Jensen's warm, hard thighs pressed against his, then no one could really blame him.
To appease Jensen's sweet tooth, Jared baked oatmeal raisin cookies and his mama's apple pie. They stayed in together and argued over Picasso's best phase, and whether or not the Giants should trade Jeremy Shockey. He poured over Jensen's photographs, hung out with him in Jensen's make shift dark room, and between long, sloppy kisses he began to convince Jensen to put on a show.
The summer was hot and sticky, and Jared couldn't remember when he'd been this happy.
"Dude, if your smile gets any bigger, I'm gonna have to beat your ass."
Jensen snorted at Steve. "The last time you were able to beat my ass, I was twelve years old and had mono."
Shaking his head, Steve grumbled, "That is so not the point."
"What's the point then?"
"You're really happy," Steve said, as he sat down on the bench and laced up his tennis shoes.
Jensen settled next to him and bent to tie his own shoes. "That's a bad thing? Way to be a friend, dude."
"No way. Your happiness means everything to me." Steve paused. "Obviously." He stood quickly and danced out of the way as Jensen swatted him with a hand towel. Steve laughed openly, continuing, "You're so obviously getting laid, and I didn't even know you were dating anyone, and if I don't meet her soon, my only assumption is going to be that she's married."
Jensen just looked at him, still seated on the bench. "You think I'm getting laid? Why?"
Steve threw him a disgruntled glance. "You're freaking the happiest I've seen you in, like, ever, and you never have time for me anymore, plus - just - dude, I don’t wanna sound all girly, but you're glowing. I mean, my other option was pregnancy, but - "
Jensen couldn't even contain his smile; it felt spring-loaded. "Okay," he conceded. "I'm maybe gettin' some action."
"I knew it!" Steve crowed. "Also, thank God!"
Jensen pushed himself up. "What'd'ya wanna do first?"
"Arms," Steve answered. "And she's not married, right?"
Jensen shook his head. "Nah, not married."
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Steve stopped and looked expectant. "So, this weekend?"
Jensen felt his eyebrows knit together. "This weekend?"
"I wanna meet her."
Jensen took a step back. He felt sick to his stomach. "Oh," he said, quickly and in a high voice. "This weekend's not - I mean, we're sort of hanging low." He tried to leer. "You know, staying in." Steve nodded in encouragement. "But soon," Jensen continued. "Real soon."
Steve looked disturbingly affectionate. "Okay," he agreed. "But soon, right? 'Cause I wanna meet the girl who makes you look so happy, man."
Jensen swallowed. He said, "Soon," again and followed Steve out into the gym.
"What do ya think?" asked Jared, studying the rows before him. "Organic flour or regular?"
Jensen stood beside him, not looking very interested in the proceedings. The harsh neon lights buzzed loudly above their heads. "I dunno," he said around a shrug. "Organic, I guess."
"You could be a little more enthused about this, you know."
Jensen snorted. "You're the one who wants the cookies."
Jared gave a mock gasp. "You don't want my cookies?" He pouted. "I think I might be insulted."
Beside him, Jensen grinned. "I'm sorry, Jay," he said, all contrite. His hand rested briefly on Jared's wrist. "I absolutely want your cookies."
"Well, you should," Jared countered, throwing the flour in next to two bags of chocolate chips and a round container of oatmeal. "My cookies taste very good. As a matter of fact, they -"
"Bring all the boys to the yard?" Jensen interrupted.
"Yes!" Jared exclaimed loudly. "It's like you know me so well."
Jensen laughed. "You are way too cute for your own good, man," he said, and Jared felt his smile stretch wider than the whole state of Texas. He was just leaning in to capture Jensen's mouth in a kiss, when he heard Jensen's sharp intake of breath.
"Hey, man, what the hell are you doing here?" said a voice to their right.
Jensen's whole body stiffened at the sound, and Jared whipped his head around toward the unfamiliar voice.
"I thought you and your girl were hanging in this weekend," the guy before them said. He had long hair and an easy smile, and he reached in to pat Jensen on the back, seemingly unaware of Jensen's oh shit body language.
"Oh!" said Jensen, in a voice much higher than normal. Jared watched him wipe his hand on his jeans, and take about four steps away from Jared. Jared frowned.
"We were," Jensen continued quickly, eyes casting around the grocery store aisle. "Gonna lay low. But, um, she got sick, yeah, and, um, I was thinking about making her some, ah, chicken soup, you know, 'cause it's, um, restorative, yeah?
The guy nodded, though he looked confused. "So why are you all the way over here? Your place is all the way across town; there must be twenty stores between there and here."
"Oh." Jensen paused. "Well, Jared here," he said, finally acknowledging Jared, who stood by feeling utterly ridiculous now. "He offered to help."
"Jared," the guy said. "How are ya, man? Steve," he said, introducing himself and sticking out his hand for a shake.
Jared transferred the basket he was carrying to his left hand, reaching out with his right to pump Steve's hand. "Oh, Steve," he said, feeling his smile slide back into place. "I've heard so much about you, man."
"Have you? Wow, that's cool. I don't - " He paused, glancing back at Jensen. "How do you two know each other?"
Jared opened his mouth, but Jensen beat him to it. "Gym," he said.
Steve asked, "You work out at Pulse?" and Jared felt his smile go a little awkward as he gave a half-hearted nod.
"Cool, man, cool. Well, hey, if your girl's sick, you should come to the club tonight."
Jensen looked like he swallowed a lemon.
"You play in a band, right?" Jared asked, when Jensen didn't say anything.
Steve shot a glance at Jensen, then smiled brightly at Jared. "Yeah, yeah. You should definitely come hear us play - after you make your chicken soup." As he spoke, he peered into the basket Jared was carrying. "I…don't think you have the right ingredients," he said, with his eyebrows hoisted up near his hairline.
"We got a little side-tracked," Jensen lied. Jared stared openly at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. It was obvious he was lying, and he was obviously bad at it. From the look on Steve's face, he seemed to think so too.
Jared pressed his lips together, so hard they hurt.
"Right, dude, right," said Steve. "Well, ah, you two have fun, and you know, I'll see you tonight, if you can make it. It was nice meeting you, Jared."
Jared nodded curtly, barely taking his eyes off Jensen. "You too," he ground out. They stood in awkward silence as Steve rounded the corner. Jared turned to study Jensen. "Your girlfriend?" he finally asked.
Jensen swallowed, so loud Jared could hear it above the hum of the overhead lights. "He figured I was seeing someone, wanted to meet her. He just assumed, and I…"
"That's funny. I remember asking to meet him, too."
"Jared - "
"Am I ever going to meet anyone in your life as something other than your friend from the gym?"
"Of course," Jensen said, taking a small step toward Jared. He glanced over his shoulder - probably to see if Steve was anywhere near - and Jared bristled.
"Really?" he said. "Are you so ashamed of me?"
"No!" Jensen said quickly. "I just - please, Jared. I just need time. I'm not, I mean, this is new to me, and I've never." He deflated before Jared's eyes. "Please, can we just keep it private for a little while longer?"
His eyes were pleading and expectant. Jared watched the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked. He nodded. "A little while," he agreed, albeit a little sullenly. Then he added, "But you're making me cookies."
Jensen breathed out. "Deal," he said.
Jared forced a wobbly smile onto his face.
"Your boyfriend?" Steve said, sounding utterly confused. "Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?"
With his head buried in his arms, body folded over his kitchen table, Jensen mumbled out a yes.
"What was that?" said Steve.
Jensen lifted his head, though he refused to meet Steve's eye. "Yes," he said again.
Steve was silent for a long time. He poured a shot of whiskey into a plastic cup and downed it.
"You think I'm gross now, don't you?" Jensen asked miserably, measuring out his own generous shot and coughing as it went down.
"What?" Steve exclaimed. "No. No way. I'm actually kinda impressed. I never thought you'd - It's just so…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful.
"Gay?" Jensen supplied.
Steve snorted. "I was gonna say unexpected. How did this even - " He narrowed his eyes in Jensen's direction. Jensen plopped his head back down on the table, though he heard Steve fine when he said, "The quote. Oh, man, that Kerouac quote."
"You know how much I like Kerouac," Jensen said, head still down. "And Mac called to say she was getting married, and I just thought - but, yes, you're right. Unexpected, because I'm not gay." He felt like he had a giant rubber band squeezed around his chest. His breath felt trapped beneath it. "I can’t do this," he rushed on, bringing panicked eyes back up to Steve. "It's not me - I knew it wasn't me. God, can you imagine my father? I can't - I have to call Jared - I can't - "
"Whoa, hey, dude, relax." Steve held out a placating hand and spoke softly, like he would to an over-excited dog. "It's fine. It's gonna be fine." He grinned. "So tell me about 'im."
Jensen trained his eyes on his hands as he poured himself another shot. He fiddled with the cup, moving it back and forth so the amber whiskey sloshed around inside it. "He's real funny," he began. "And, uh, he likes the Rangers, and, um, football, and he eats my cooking, and like, just, is nice to everyone and gets along with people, and, he's just, um, not afraid of life, I guess."
"He's certainly a tall drink of water," Steve commented.
"Jesus, yeah, he is." Jensen studied his untaken shot.
"How's the sex?"
"It's great," he said, without hesitation. He brought his eyes up to Steve's. "I mean - "
"Is he as smart as you?" Steve asked.
Jensen nodded. "Kinda brilliant, actually. You should see the dude play chess - kicks my ass every time, and he can talk art, and he reads and listens to good music, and - "
"And, ah, you're attracted to him?"
Jensen felt his cheeks go hot, but he nodded.
"And he gets you - like, he thinks your lame jokes are funny and stuff?"
Jensen smiled a little at that.
Steve asked, "Has he thrown up in your truck?"
"Nope."
"Insulted her or anything?"
"Not once." Jensen picked up his glass.
"Yep," Steve said drolly. "You need to get out of this relationship right quick."
Jensen took his shot. It burned all the way down.
When Jensen was seven years old, he proposed to Wendy Miller, the eight-year-old blond who lived across the street. She rode around a big blue ten-speed that she'd inherited from her older brother and played ding dong ditch better than anyone Jensen knew. She was pretty much his ideal girl.
If he'd known, at the time, how involved weddings actually were, he'd probably have skipped the proposal.
"Keep your arms to the side for me, kid," the ancient tailor instructed, as if Jensen wasn't pushing thirty and an actual adult.
Scowling, Jensen did as he was told. They were in the back fitting rooms of the tux rental shop, and Jensen hardly thought it fair that he and his brother and the rest of the groomsmen were going to be forced to wear purple cummerbunds underneath disturbingly white tuxedoes, but he supposed a bride gets what a bride wants, even if that means making your older brothers look like pimps (no, probably especially if it makes them look like pimps).
The navy curtain separating the back from the front swung open. "Look who I found!" his mama exclaimed.
"Mom," Jensen all but whined. "Do you mind?"
Never mind that Jensen was fully clothed. He did not need his mother looking in on his fittings. He glared at her, only to see Jared a step behind.
"Oh," he said, rather rudely. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I invited him over, darling," his mom gushed. "I knew we were going to be in Dallas for the day, and it had been a while." She came over and brushed Jensen's tux along his left lapel.
"Mama," he whispered, squirming to get away.
Jared gave him a wide, confused smile. "What's all this for?" he asked.
Feeling like his stomach was bottoming out, Jensen could only watch in dread as his mom said, "What's this for? Very funny, sweetie. It's for the wedding, of course."
Jensen wouldn't let himself meet Jared's eyes. "What wedding?" Jared asked.
There was a pause. Finally, Jensen's mom said, "Mackenzie's wedding, of course. Didn’t you get the invitation?" She whipped her head around to look at Jensen. "Jensen, I swore I gave you Jared's invitation."
Jensen tried to take a breath, but it was stuck in his throat. "Oh, yeah," he croaked out. He gestured wildly with his right hand. "Well, um, I just, ah." He paused and looked at Jared with pleading eyes. "I gave you the invitation, didn’t I?"
Jared's lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked utterly and completely betrayed, and Jensen wanted nothing more than a vortex to open up beneath him to take him away.
"No," Jared said simply, meeting Jensen's eyes. "You didn't. You know, I just remembered I've got something else to do today. Thanks, Mrs. Ackles, for the invite, but I'll have to take a rain check." Jared barely spared a glance at Jensen. "See you." He left without waiting for a reply.
Jensen was after him a heartbeat later. He felt his mom follow and prayed she had enough sense to stay inside. He pushed open the door to rush into the sultry Texas afternoon sunlight, right behind Jared. "Jay, wait," he pleaded.
Jared spun around. His eyes were furious and dark, and Jensen resisted the urge to take a step back. "Were you even gonna tell me?" Jared spat out.
Jensen floundered. "Dude, I…"
"You what, Jen? You're pathetic, terrified, what?"
"Jared, please -"
"No!" Jared shouted, moving in close so their chests were almost touching. "How can you shut me out of something this basic? It's your sister's wedding, and I had to find out from someone else, like, like, just some guy you know from the gym." He sneered as he said it. Jensen wanted to recoil, but he made himself stand tall.
"I'm doing the best I can here, okay? This is all really new to me."
Jared pulled a face. "You don’t think this is new for me, or hard? But I do it, and I deal with it, because I thought you were worth it - and then you just - you treat me like you're ashamed of me."
His voice wobbled just slightly. Jensen's insides felt too big for his chest. He glanced around and then stopped himself from reaching out to Jared. "It's not that, Jay."
"No? Then what is it?'
"It's… God, what do you want from me?" Jensen asked.
"I want to be acknowledged as an important part of your life," Jared told him, eyes hard and pleading. He reached out and grasped the upper part of Jensen's left arm. "I want you to man up and take me the wedding."
Jensen was already shaking his head, trying to back away. "I can’t do that," he said.
Jared asked, "Can't, or won't?"
"Jared," Jensen said, trying a soothing tone. "You don't know my family, how they'll respond, and I mean…this isn’t who I am."
"Obviously it is," Jared huffed out, "because you're doing it. I mean, you're in a relationship with me."
"Yeah, but - "
"And it's good, Jensen."
"I know it is."
"So what's the problem?"
Jensen sighed. "I just… I need more time."
He watched Jared shake his head sadly. "I can't give you that. You might be okay with repressing or hiding or whatever, but I can't do that. I wanna… I wanna shout it from the rooftops that I'm happy, and that you're the one making me happy, that I love you, and you won't even hold my hand in public or introduce me to the people important to you."
"Jared, please."
Jared removed his hand from Jensen's arm and stepped away. "No. I can't be someone I'm not. I can't be in this relationship if you aren’t going to let me into your life, completely. I'm sorry. I just…can't."
When Jensen said nothing, Jared turned away from him. Jensen felt frozen in place, with shock, with fear. His insides were swimming with dread, but he couldn’t make himself move, either to follow Jared or to return to the rental shop. The sun was hot, well past its zenith, and the tux was damp with sweat, pressing against him. All he felt was cold and alone.
"Ice cream," Sandy announced to Jared. "Lots of it. And tequila. Lots of that, too." She plopped both items down on the coffee table.
On the other side of the room, Adrianne flipped her phone shut. "I've ordered the pizzas. And we have Die Hard."
Jared swallowed. He tried to smile, but his mouth didn't really want to cooperate. "Jensen loves that movie," he whispered.
"It's a stupid, stupid movie," Adrianne said. "We're not watching it. What about Saw?"
Jared nodded half-heartedly. "Saw's fine."
He watched absently as Sandy poured three very generous shots of tequila, and then threw his back without waiting for a lemon slice. Sandy and Adrianne's eyes met. "Works for me!" Sandy said, before she downed her shot. He watched her pull a face and send him a concerned glance.
"I don't know how you do this," he murmured. "It's… I mean - "
"Jared, baby," Sandy soothed, running a hand down his arm. "Are you okay?"
Jared swallowed again, and he felt his eyes sting. His insides felt twisted, split open like rotted fruit. "You know," he said. "I don't think I am."
He felt his face crumble. Sandy pulled his head down into her lap, and Adrianne rushed over to rub his back.
Jensen stared at two ticket stubs that had been stuffed into one of his desk drawers sometime over the summer. He and Jared had gone to the game - they'd gotten drunk off cheap domestic beer and rutted against each other on Jared's couch when they got home. It had been terrifying and fantastic.
"Hey." Danneel's voice was soft and smooth as she rounded the corner into his cubicle. "You doing okay?"
Jensen swallowed harshly and quickly dropped the ticket stubs. "What?" he said, blinking quickly and looking up. "Yeah, yeah - fine."
"She must have been pretty special," Danneel commented.
Jensen stared. "What?"
Danneel shrugged. "You're obviously nursing some pretty serious heartache," she explained. "You wanna talk about it?"
Jensen shook his head. "I don't - I don't know."
Stepping fully into his cubicle, Danneel gave a careful smile. "What was her name?"
Jensen looked at the ticket stubs again. He was quiet for a long time. "His name," he finally said. "His name was Jared."
If Danneel was surprised, she didn't let it show. Soft warm fingertips landed on Jensen's forearm. "C'mon," she said. "Let's take an early afternoon and go get a couple drinks."
The invitation to the show was simple, clean lines and elegant script. At just after seven thirty, the place was packed. Jared wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off the piece before him.
"That's a lovely piece of work," a very feminine voice oozed out next to him. Jared glanced over to find Moira Closon looking at him. Her teeth stood out in contrast to the red, red lipstick staining her mouth.
Jared nodded a smile. "It is pretty amazing, yeah?"
"Who's the artist? I don't think I recognize it."
He paused. "Ackles," he finally said, even though it hurt just a little bit. "Jensen Ackles."
"Talented. Is he new to the area?"
"No," Jared said.
He felt Moira's warm fingers press into his suit jacket. "Do you think maybe we could discuss his work in back?" She lifted her eyebrows up, a flirty smile playing around her lips.
Jared looked at her. He reached out and stopped Sandy as she was making the rounds with her wine bottle. "Hey," he said, "Moira'd like to discuss Jensen's piece here. Can you help her with it? I gotta - " He swallowed, sending Sandy a pleading look. "I gotta go."
Sandy sent him off with a concerned nod. He didn't look to see Moira's scowl, just went home, found a copy of On the Road that didn't belong to him, and settled down on his bed for a long read.
Jensen's parent's house was lit up with bright lights and happy smiles. At least twenty people were gathered for the rehearsal dinner, and tickling chatter seemed to melt into every corner, so there was no place to hide. His present lack of sleep plus the wine he'd consumed combined to give him a dull, throbbing headache behind his eyes. He tried to smile through the toasts, watching Mac and James and how deliriously happy they both were. He tried not to resent them.
All through the night, he thought about Jared's warm foot pressed up against his beneath the table, and at the fist sign of dinner being over, he excused himself to go out to the front porch. The sky was dark, with a smattering of stars lighting up the soft ground. He was only out for a few minutes when he felt his mama settle down beside him.
"How you doing, baby?" Her warm palm rested against his arm.
Jensen shook his head, not trusting his voice to speak.
She said, "Do you remember that time in choir, in fifth grade, when you got the lead solo on Easter morning?" and Jensen sent a startled glance in her direction. She wasn't watching him, but instead was studying the sky with interest.
"Yeah, 'course I do," Jensen answered gruffly.
He watched his mom nod. Against his arm, her hand was still warm and soft. "And you decided you weren't good enough, that you'd been given the part because your daddy was the preacher."
Jensen remembered. He remembered practicing in front of the mirror, how badly he'd wanted to impress everyone, and how much the thought of getting up in front of hundreds of people to sing by himself had terrified to him to his very core. He remembered how worried he was, of what everyone else would think.
He swallowed harshly and nodded.
"So they gave the solo to Brad Jenkins," his mama continued. "And he was awful, you remember that? You, my baby boy, you would have done so well in the part - even if it hadn’t been perfect." She paused, then said quietly, "You would have been so wonderful."
They were quiet for a minute. "It's a beautiful night," she murmured. "And your sister is so happy."
"She's practically glowing," Jensen murmured in agreement.
"You know, I always wondered how things might have turned out if you had just taken that solo, if you hadn't been so worried about what other people thought about you."
"Mama," Jensen said. Her hand squeezed his, just slightly.
The air was dry and hot, and it filled Jensen's lungs when he took a deep breath.
Beneath the starlight, his mom kept talking. "You mighta been so happy, baby. In the end, that's really all we can ask for. That's all the Lord wants for us: happiness, someone to love."
Jensen stared at his mom - who looked some crazy mixture of resigned and happy. He watched his mom open her mouth, then shut it.
"What is it, Mama?"
She swallowed, and wet her lips. "Jared," she finally said. "Obviously makes you happy. If that's what it takes - if he's what it takes - to make you happy, then you need to go for it, and don't - don't worry what other people think."
Jensen felt something break inside his chest. He blinked rapidly, and reached over to pull his mother into a big hug, feeling her comforting arms wrap around him. Against her side, he whispered, "Thanks, Mama," and he felt her smile.
Jared had fallen asleep on top of the covers, still wearing the outfit he'd had on the night before at the gallery opening. On the Road was pressed against his side, and his mouth felt sticky and tasted like sour sleep. A loud, insistent knocking from somewhere near the front of his house, accompanied by Sadie and Harley's annoyingly yelpy barks, had him swearing and muttering something about people keeping the hell off his property at seven o'clock on Saturday mornings.
He was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he swung the door open. There was dew on the grass. Soft yellow morning light met his gaze, and the curse on his lips died almost immediately. He blinked, not quite sure he believed what he saw. It was possible he was still dreaming. He blinked once more, and the mirage of Jensen standing in the early morning sunlight, carrying a pink shirt and two cups of steaming coffee, didn't waver.
"Uh…" was Jared's only reply. He was pretty sure his hair was sticking up in all directions, and Jensen's eyes were as green as Jared remembered them, but had big coal-black smudges beneath them, and he looked thinner than Jared recalled.
"You left this at my house," Jensen said, kind of sheepishly, holding up the perfectly ironed shirt. Even from his spot two feet away, Jared could smell the laundry-clean scent that drifted from the shirt.
"I thought, maybe," Jensen continued, eyes earnestly studying Jared, "it would be a good shirt to wear to the wedding." He paused and bit his bottom lip. "That is, um, if you still want to be my date."
Jared blinked at him, at the sweep of long lashes resting on pink cheeks. He stared for a long while, not quite believing his eyes, and not totally trusting his voice. Part of him wanted to shut the door in Jensen's face, turn around and go back to sleep. But another part of him - the part that remembered what it felt like before he had a Jensen-shaped hole in his chest - that part of him wanted to -
He let a small smile work his mouth, and gruffly said, "Only if you help me pick out a tie." He was rewarded by a grin so blinding he couldn't have stopped his stomach from flip-flopping if he tried.
He stepped aside to let Jensen in, but Jensen latched onto his rumpled clothes and gave a mighty tug. He kissed Jared right on his front porch, the bright Texas sun as witness.
six months later
"We're gonna run out of ice," Jensen informed him, as he set an empty tray next to the sink. Jensen looked about ready to jump out of his skin, eyes bright and panicked. "The devilled eggs are already gone, and I think the front toilet is clogged again; my dad's late picking up Mac and James, and my mom keeps hinting that she'd like to see the bedroom."
Jared stifled a loud laugh. The kitchen was oven-warm and smelled of sugar, cinnamon, warm ham and Coke. "One thing at a time," he said slowly, bending low to peer into the oven. He straightened to find Jensen staring at him with wide eyes. "We'll send Chad to get more ice. Your ham is gonna be ready in ten minutes, but we can put out some crackers if people are getting restless - or hey, Sandy brought over that spinach dip yesterday. We can put that out." Even as he spoke, he moved to take it from the fridge, and then heard the front door open, bringing in the sound of happy laughter. "We'll send people to our bathroom 'til I can check the toilet - was Steve in there, by the way? I told him he wasn't allowed to shit here anymore."
Jared set the spinach dip down on the counter and stepped up closer to Jensen. He yanked on Jensen's red and white striped apron, tugging him closer, so their chests were nearly flush. Their eyes met. Jared let a small, private smile pull at his lips, and ducked his head just slightly to meet Jensen's eyes.
"It sounds like your dad's already back with the out of town guests," he murmured, bringing his mouth near Jensen's and brushing against him lightly. He shrugged. "And let your mom see the bedroom; there's nothing to hide."
Against him, he felt Jensen's body relax, go soft and calm in his arms. Jensen leaned in for another kiss. "What would I do without you?" he murmured.
"Panic," Jared answered around a smirk. "More than you already do. Be miserable and mopey."
Jensen nipped at his lips one more time before pulling away. "Thank you," he said.
Just then, the oven buzzer went off. "Ham!" Jared announced happily, finally letting his hands fall from Jensen to pick up an oven mitt.
Jensen found two extra bags of ice in the freezer, and while Jared sliced the ham, Jensen and his mama laid out the rest of the food on their new dinning room table - Danneel's favorite corn pudding, two kinds of potatoes, biscuits, string beans, and three types of salad.
By the time Jared brought out the ham on a large platter, everyone was situated around the table. Danneel was seated with her new boyfriend, Chris, a musician who was shorter than her and spoke with an exaggerated Southern accent. He and Steve seemed to get along well and were already talking about getting together to play next week. Chad was there, along with Sandy and Adrianne, as well as Jensen's whole family, complete with the smiling newlyweds and his nosy mama.
Jared settled into his seat next to Jensen. He raised his glass when Donna demanded a toast.
"To our boys," she said, sending her warm gaze over toward where Jared and Jensen sat. "To their new home and their new life together."
Sunlight shone in through the wide window to the left; it made the whole room sparkle. Jared heard the chime-y sound of glasses meeting, and he clanked his loudly with Jensen's, whose eyes were crinkled above a wide smile.
"To happiness," Jensen said, meeting his gaze.
Under the table, Jared scooted his foot to the left until it connected with Jensen's. He was rewarded with a flush to Jensen's cheeks, though Jensen's smile stayed firmly in place. Jared took a long, happy sip of his wine, and grinned widely when he felt a warm weight settle atop his foot.
The End
Thanks for reading!
Jared discovered Jensen drooled in his sleep, and that he drank his coffee black even though he would prefer to dump sugar in it. He found out that Jensen was a horrible chess player, though what he lacked in skill, he made up in sheer stubbornness. He grinned to himself when he learned that Jensen was an impatient teacher, though Jensen'd sit still long enough to teach Jared the basics of the guitar, his calloused fingers matched over Jared's in ways that sent all Jared's blood rushing to his crotch. If Jared stretched out the lessons just a little long, the feel of Jensen's warm, hard thighs pressed against his, then no one could really blame him.
To appease Jensen's sweet tooth, Jared baked oatmeal raisin cookies and his mama's apple pie. They stayed in together and argued over Picasso's best phase, and whether or not the Giants should trade Jeremy Shockey. He poured over Jensen's photographs, hung out with him in Jensen's make shift dark room, and between long, sloppy kisses he began to convince Jensen to put on a show.
The summer was hot and sticky, and Jared couldn't remember when he'd been this happy.
"Dude, if your smile gets any bigger, I'm gonna have to beat your ass."
Jensen snorted at Steve. "The last time you were able to beat my ass, I was twelve years old and had mono."
Shaking his head, Steve grumbled, "That is so not the point."
"What's the point then?"
"You're really happy," Steve said, as he sat down on the bench and laced up his tennis shoes.
Jensen settled next to him and bent to tie his own shoes. "That's a bad thing? Way to be a friend, dude."
"No way. Your happiness means everything to me." Steve paused. "Obviously." He stood quickly and danced out of the way as Jensen swatted him with a hand towel. Steve laughed openly, continuing, "You're so obviously getting laid, and I didn't even know you were dating anyone, and if I don't meet her soon, my only assumption is going to be that she's married."
Jensen just looked at him, still seated on the bench. "You think I'm getting laid? Why?"
Steve threw him a disgruntled glance. "You're freaking the happiest I've seen you in, like, ever, and you never have time for me anymore, plus - just - dude, I don’t wanna sound all girly, but you're glowing. I mean, my other option was pregnancy, but - "
Jensen couldn't even contain his smile; it felt spring-loaded. "Okay," he conceded. "I'm maybe gettin' some action."
"I knew it!" Steve crowed. "Also, thank God!"
Jensen pushed himself up. "What'd'ya wanna do first?"
"Arms," Steve answered. "And she's not married, right?"
Jensen shook his head. "Nah, not married."
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Steve stopped and looked expectant. "So, this weekend?"
Jensen felt his eyebrows knit together. "This weekend?"
"I wanna meet her."
Jensen took a step back. He felt sick to his stomach. "Oh," he said, quickly and in a high voice. "This weekend's not - I mean, we're sort of hanging low." He tried to leer. "You know, staying in." Steve nodded in encouragement. "But soon," Jensen continued. "Real soon."
Steve looked disturbingly affectionate. "Okay," he agreed. "But soon, right? 'Cause I wanna meet the girl who makes you look so happy, man."
Jensen swallowed. He said, "Soon," again and followed Steve out into the gym.
"What do ya think?" asked Jared, studying the rows before him. "Organic flour or regular?"
Jensen stood beside him, not looking very interested in the proceedings. The harsh neon lights buzzed loudly above their heads. "I dunno," he said around a shrug. "Organic, I guess."
"You could be a little more enthused about this, you know."
Jensen snorted. "You're the one who wants the cookies."
Jared gave a mock gasp. "You don't want my cookies?" He pouted. "I think I might be insulted."
Beside him, Jensen grinned. "I'm sorry, Jay," he said, all contrite. His hand rested briefly on Jared's wrist. "I absolutely want your cookies."
"Well, you should," Jared countered, throwing the flour in next to two bags of chocolate chips and a round container of oatmeal. "My cookies taste very good. As a matter of fact, they -"
"Bring all the boys to the yard?" Jensen interrupted.
"Yes!" Jared exclaimed loudly. "It's like you know me so well."
Jensen laughed. "You are way too cute for your own good, man," he said, and Jared felt his smile stretch wider than the whole state of Texas. He was just leaning in to capture Jensen's mouth in a kiss, when he heard Jensen's sharp intake of breath.
"Hey, man, what the hell are you doing here?" said a voice to their right.
Jensen's whole body stiffened at the sound, and Jared whipped his head around toward the unfamiliar voice.
"I thought you and your girl were hanging in this weekend," the guy before them said. He had long hair and an easy smile, and he reached in to pat Jensen on the back, seemingly unaware of Jensen's oh shit body language.
"Oh!" said Jensen, in a voice much higher than normal. Jared watched him wipe his hand on his jeans, and take about four steps away from Jared. Jared frowned.
"We were," Jensen continued quickly, eyes casting around the grocery store aisle. "Gonna lay low. But, um, she got sick, yeah, and, um, I was thinking about making her some, ah, chicken soup, you know, 'cause it's, um, restorative, yeah?
The guy nodded, though he looked confused. "So why are you all the way over here? Your place is all the way across town; there must be twenty stores between there and here."
"Oh." Jensen paused. "Well, Jared here," he said, finally acknowledging Jared, who stood by feeling utterly ridiculous now. "He offered to help."
"Jared," the guy said. "How are ya, man? Steve," he said, introducing himself and sticking out his hand for a shake.
Jared transferred the basket he was carrying to his left hand, reaching out with his right to pump Steve's hand. "Oh, Steve," he said, feeling his smile slide back into place. "I've heard so much about you, man."
"Have you? Wow, that's cool. I don't - " He paused, glancing back at Jensen. "How do you two know each other?"
Jared opened his mouth, but Jensen beat him to it. "Gym," he said.
Steve asked, "You work out at Pulse?" and Jared felt his smile go a little awkward as he gave a half-hearted nod.
"Cool, man, cool. Well, hey, if your girl's sick, you should come to the club tonight."
Jensen looked like he swallowed a lemon.
"You play in a band, right?" Jared asked, when Jensen didn't say anything.
Steve shot a glance at Jensen, then smiled brightly at Jared. "Yeah, yeah. You should definitely come hear us play - after you make your chicken soup." As he spoke, he peered into the basket Jared was carrying. "I…don't think you have the right ingredients," he said, with his eyebrows hoisted up near his hairline.
"We got a little side-tracked," Jensen lied. Jared stared openly at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. It was obvious he was lying, and he was obviously bad at it. From the look on Steve's face, he seemed to think so too.
Jared pressed his lips together, so hard they hurt.
"Right, dude, right," said Steve. "Well, ah, you two have fun, and you know, I'll see you tonight, if you can make it. It was nice meeting you, Jared."
Jared nodded curtly, barely taking his eyes off Jensen. "You too," he ground out. They stood in awkward silence as Steve rounded the corner. Jared turned to study Jensen. "Your girlfriend?" he finally asked.
Jensen swallowed, so loud Jared could hear it above the hum of the overhead lights. "He figured I was seeing someone, wanted to meet her. He just assumed, and I…"
"That's funny. I remember asking to meet him, too."
"Jared - "
"Am I ever going to meet anyone in your life as something other than your friend from the gym?"
"Of course," Jensen said, taking a small step toward Jared. He glanced over his shoulder - probably to see if Steve was anywhere near - and Jared bristled.
"Really?" he said. "Are you so ashamed of me?"
"No!" Jensen said quickly. "I just - please, Jared. I just need time. I'm not, I mean, this is new to me, and I've never." He deflated before Jared's eyes. "Please, can we just keep it private for a little while longer?"
His eyes were pleading and expectant. Jared watched the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked. He nodded. "A little while," he agreed, albeit a little sullenly. Then he added, "But you're making me cookies."
Jensen breathed out. "Deal," he said.
Jared forced a wobbly smile onto his face.
"Your boyfriend?" Steve said, sounding utterly confused. "Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?"
With his head buried in his arms, body folded over his kitchen table, Jensen mumbled out a yes.
"What was that?" said Steve.
Jensen lifted his head, though he refused to meet Steve's eye. "Yes," he said again.
Steve was silent for a long time. He poured a shot of whiskey into a plastic cup and downed it.
"You think I'm gross now, don't you?" Jensen asked miserably, measuring out his own generous shot and coughing as it went down.
"What?" Steve exclaimed. "No. No way. I'm actually kinda impressed. I never thought you'd - It's just so…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful.
"Gay?" Jensen supplied.
Steve snorted. "I was gonna say unexpected. How did this even - " He narrowed his eyes in Jensen's direction. Jensen plopped his head back down on the table, though he heard Steve fine when he said, "The quote. Oh, man, that Kerouac quote."
"You know how much I like Kerouac," Jensen said, head still down. "And Mac called to say she was getting married, and I just thought - but, yes, you're right. Unexpected, because I'm not gay." He felt like he had a giant rubber band squeezed around his chest. His breath felt trapped beneath it. "I can’t do this," he rushed on, bringing panicked eyes back up to Steve. "It's not me - I knew it wasn't me. God, can you imagine my father? I can't - I have to call Jared - I can't - "
"Whoa, hey, dude, relax." Steve held out a placating hand and spoke softly, like he would to an over-excited dog. "It's fine. It's gonna be fine." He grinned. "So tell me about 'im."
Jensen trained his eyes on his hands as he poured himself another shot. He fiddled with the cup, moving it back and forth so the amber whiskey sloshed around inside it. "He's real funny," he began. "And, uh, he likes the Rangers, and, um, football, and he eats my cooking, and like, just, is nice to everyone and gets along with people, and, he's just, um, not afraid of life, I guess."
"He's certainly a tall drink of water," Steve commented.
"Jesus, yeah, he is." Jensen studied his untaken shot.
"How's the sex?"
"It's great," he said, without hesitation. He brought his eyes up to Steve's. "I mean - "
"Is he as smart as you?" Steve asked.
Jensen nodded. "Kinda brilliant, actually. You should see the dude play chess - kicks my ass every time, and he can talk art, and he reads and listens to good music, and - "
"And, ah, you're attracted to him?"
Jensen felt his cheeks go hot, but he nodded.
"And he gets you - like, he thinks your lame jokes are funny and stuff?"
Jensen smiled a little at that.
Steve asked, "Has he thrown up in your truck?"
"Nope."
"Insulted her or anything?"
"Not once." Jensen picked up his glass.
"Yep," Steve said drolly. "You need to get out of this relationship right quick."
Jensen took his shot. It burned all the way down.
When Jensen was seven years old, he proposed to Wendy Miller, the eight-year-old blond who lived across the street. She rode around a big blue ten-speed that she'd inherited from her older brother and played ding dong ditch better than anyone Jensen knew. She was pretty much his ideal girl.
If he'd known, at the time, how involved weddings actually were, he'd probably have skipped the proposal.
"Keep your arms to the side for me, kid," the ancient tailor instructed, as if Jensen wasn't pushing thirty and an actual adult.
Scowling, Jensen did as he was told. They were in the back fitting rooms of the tux rental shop, and Jensen hardly thought it fair that he and his brother and the rest of the groomsmen were going to be forced to wear purple cummerbunds underneath disturbingly white tuxedoes, but he supposed a bride gets what a bride wants, even if that means making your older brothers look like pimps (no, probably especially if it makes them look like pimps).
The navy curtain separating the back from the front swung open. "Look who I found!" his mama exclaimed.
"Mom," Jensen all but whined. "Do you mind?"
Never mind that Jensen was fully clothed. He did not need his mother looking in on his fittings. He glared at her, only to see Jared a step behind.
"Oh," he said, rather rudely. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I invited him over, darling," his mom gushed. "I knew we were going to be in Dallas for the day, and it had been a while." She came over and brushed Jensen's tux along his left lapel.
"Mama," he whispered, squirming to get away.
Jared gave him a wide, confused smile. "What's all this for?" he asked.
Feeling like his stomach was bottoming out, Jensen could only watch in dread as his mom said, "What's this for? Very funny, sweetie. It's for the wedding, of course."
Jensen wouldn't let himself meet Jared's eyes. "What wedding?" Jared asked.
There was a pause. Finally, Jensen's mom said, "Mackenzie's wedding, of course. Didn’t you get the invitation?" She whipped her head around to look at Jensen. "Jensen, I swore I gave you Jared's invitation."
Jensen tried to take a breath, but it was stuck in his throat. "Oh, yeah," he croaked out. He gestured wildly with his right hand. "Well, um, I just, ah." He paused and looked at Jared with pleading eyes. "I gave you the invitation, didn’t I?"
Jared's lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked utterly and completely betrayed, and Jensen wanted nothing more than a vortex to open up beneath him to take him away.
"No," Jared said simply, meeting Jensen's eyes. "You didn't. You know, I just remembered I've got something else to do today. Thanks, Mrs. Ackles, for the invite, but I'll have to take a rain check." Jared barely spared a glance at Jensen. "See you." He left without waiting for a reply.
Jensen was after him a heartbeat later. He felt his mom follow and prayed she had enough sense to stay inside. He pushed open the door to rush into the sultry Texas afternoon sunlight, right behind Jared. "Jay, wait," he pleaded.
Jared spun around. His eyes were furious and dark, and Jensen resisted the urge to take a step back. "Were you even gonna tell me?" Jared spat out.
Jensen floundered. "Dude, I…"
"You what, Jen? You're pathetic, terrified, what?"
"Jared, please -"
"No!" Jared shouted, moving in close so their chests were almost touching. "How can you shut me out of something this basic? It's your sister's wedding, and I had to find out from someone else, like, like, just some guy you know from the gym." He sneered as he said it. Jensen wanted to recoil, but he made himself stand tall.
"I'm doing the best I can here, okay? This is all really new to me."
Jared pulled a face. "You don’t think this is new for me, or hard? But I do it, and I deal with it, because I thought you were worth it - and then you just - you treat me like you're ashamed of me."
His voice wobbled just slightly. Jensen's insides felt too big for his chest. He glanced around and then stopped himself from reaching out to Jared. "It's not that, Jay."
"No? Then what is it?'
"It's… God, what do you want from me?" Jensen asked.
"I want to be acknowledged as an important part of your life," Jared told him, eyes hard and pleading. He reached out and grasped the upper part of Jensen's left arm. "I want you to man up and take me the wedding."
Jensen was already shaking his head, trying to back away. "I can’t do that," he said.
Jared asked, "Can't, or won't?"
"Jared," Jensen said, trying a soothing tone. "You don't know my family, how they'll respond, and I mean…this isn’t who I am."
"Obviously it is," Jared huffed out, "because you're doing it. I mean, you're in a relationship with me."
"Yeah, but - "
"And it's good, Jensen."
"I know it is."
"So what's the problem?"
Jensen sighed. "I just… I need more time."
He watched Jared shake his head sadly. "I can't give you that. You might be okay with repressing or hiding or whatever, but I can't do that. I wanna… I wanna shout it from the rooftops that I'm happy, and that you're the one making me happy, that I love you, and you won't even hold my hand in public or introduce me to the people important to you."
"Jared, please."
Jared removed his hand from Jensen's arm and stepped away. "No. I can't be someone I'm not. I can't be in this relationship if you aren’t going to let me into your life, completely. I'm sorry. I just…can't."
When Jensen said nothing, Jared turned away from him. Jensen felt frozen in place, with shock, with fear. His insides were swimming with dread, but he couldn’t make himself move, either to follow Jared or to return to the rental shop. The sun was hot, well past its zenith, and the tux was damp with sweat, pressing against him. All he felt was cold and alone.
"Ice cream," Sandy announced to Jared. "Lots of it. And tequila. Lots of that, too." She plopped both items down on the coffee table.
On the other side of the room, Adrianne flipped her phone shut. "I've ordered the pizzas. And we have Die Hard."
Jared swallowed. He tried to smile, but his mouth didn't really want to cooperate. "Jensen loves that movie," he whispered.
"It's a stupid, stupid movie," Adrianne said. "We're not watching it. What about Saw?"
Jared nodded half-heartedly. "Saw's fine."
He watched absently as Sandy poured three very generous shots of tequila, and then threw his back without waiting for a lemon slice. Sandy and Adrianne's eyes met. "Works for me!" Sandy said, before she downed her shot. He watched her pull a face and send him a concerned glance.
"I don't know how you do this," he murmured. "It's… I mean - "
"Jared, baby," Sandy soothed, running a hand down his arm. "Are you okay?"
Jared swallowed again, and he felt his eyes sting. His insides felt twisted, split open like rotted fruit. "You know," he said. "I don't think I am."
He felt his face crumble. Sandy pulled his head down into her lap, and Adrianne rushed over to rub his back.
Jensen stared at two ticket stubs that had been stuffed into one of his desk drawers sometime over the summer. He and Jared had gone to the game - they'd gotten drunk off cheap domestic beer and rutted against each other on Jared's couch when they got home. It had been terrifying and fantastic.
"Hey." Danneel's voice was soft and smooth as she rounded the corner into his cubicle. "You doing okay?"
Jensen swallowed harshly and quickly dropped the ticket stubs. "What?" he said, blinking quickly and looking up. "Yeah, yeah - fine."
"She must have been pretty special," Danneel commented.
Jensen stared. "What?"
Danneel shrugged. "You're obviously nursing some pretty serious heartache," she explained. "You wanna talk about it?"
Jensen shook his head. "I don't - I don't know."
Stepping fully into his cubicle, Danneel gave a careful smile. "What was her name?"
Jensen looked at the ticket stubs again. He was quiet for a long time. "His name," he finally said. "His name was Jared."
If Danneel was surprised, she didn't let it show. Soft warm fingertips landed on Jensen's forearm. "C'mon," she said. "Let's take an early afternoon and go get a couple drinks."
The invitation to the show was simple, clean lines and elegant script. At just after seven thirty, the place was packed. Jared wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off the piece before him.
"That's a lovely piece of work," a very feminine voice oozed out next to him. Jared glanced over to find Moira Closon looking at him. Her teeth stood out in contrast to the red, red lipstick staining her mouth.
Jared nodded a smile. "It is pretty amazing, yeah?"
"Who's the artist? I don't think I recognize it."
He paused. "Ackles," he finally said, even though it hurt just a little bit. "Jensen Ackles."
"Talented. Is he new to the area?"
"No," Jared said.
He felt Moira's warm fingers press into his suit jacket. "Do you think maybe we could discuss his work in back?" She lifted her eyebrows up, a flirty smile playing around her lips.
Jared looked at her. He reached out and stopped Sandy as she was making the rounds with her wine bottle. "Hey," he said, "Moira'd like to discuss Jensen's piece here. Can you help her with it? I gotta - " He swallowed, sending Sandy a pleading look. "I gotta go."
Sandy sent him off with a concerned nod. He didn't look to see Moira's scowl, just went home, found a copy of On the Road that didn't belong to him, and settled down on his bed for a long read.
Jensen's parent's house was lit up with bright lights and happy smiles. At least twenty people were gathered for the rehearsal dinner, and tickling chatter seemed to melt into every corner, so there was no place to hide. His present lack of sleep plus the wine he'd consumed combined to give him a dull, throbbing headache behind his eyes. He tried to smile through the toasts, watching Mac and James and how deliriously happy they both were. He tried not to resent them.
All through the night, he thought about Jared's warm foot pressed up against his beneath the table, and at the fist sign of dinner being over, he excused himself to go out to the front porch. The sky was dark, with a smattering of stars lighting up the soft ground. He was only out for a few minutes when he felt his mama settle down beside him.
"How you doing, baby?" Her warm palm rested against his arm.
Jensen shook his head, not trusting his voice to speak.
She said, "Do you remember that time in choir, in fifth grade, when you got the lead solo on Easter morning?" and Jensen sent a startled glance in her direction. She wasn't watching him, but instead was studying the sky with interest.
"Yeah, 'course I do," Jensen answered gruffly.
He watched his mom nod. Against his arm, her hand was still warm and soft. "And you decided you weren't good enough, that you'd been given the part because your daddy was the preacher."
Jensen remembered. He remembered practicing in front of the mirror, how badly he'd wanted to impress everyone, and how much the thought of getting up in front of hundreds of people to sing by himself had terrified to him to his very core. He remembered how worried he was, of what everyone else would think.
He swallowed harshly and nodded.
"So they gave the solo to Brad Jenkins," his mama continued. "And he was awful, you remember that? You, my baby boy, you would have done so well in the part - even if it hadn’t been perfect." She paused, then said quietly, "You would have been so wonderful."
They were quiet for a minute. "It's a beautiful night," she murmured. "And your sister is so happy."
"She's practically glowing," Jensen murmured in agreement.
"You know, I always wondered how things might have turned out if you had just taken that solo, if you hadn't been so worried about what other people thought about you."
"Mama," Jensen said. Her hand squeezed his, just slightly.
The air was dry and hot, and it filled Jensen's lungs when he took a deep breath.
Beneath the starlight, his mom kept talking. "You mighta been so happy, baby. In the end, that's really all we can ask for. That's all the Lord wants for us: happiness, someone to love."
Jensen stared at his mom - who looked some crazy mixture of resigned and happy. He watched his mom open her mouth, then shut it.
"What is it, Mama?"
She swallowed, and wet her lips. "Jared," she finally said. "Obviously makes you happy. If that's what it takes - if he's what it takes - to make you happy, then you need to go for it, and don't - don't worry what other people think."
Jensen felt something break inside his chest. He blinked rapidly, and reached over to pull his mother into a big hug, feeling her comforting arms wrap around him. Against her side, he whispered, "Thanks, Mama," and he felt her smile.
Jared had fallen asleep on top of the covers, still wearing the outfit he'd had on the night before at the gallery opening. On the Road was pressed against his side, and his mouth felt sticky and tasted like sour sleep. A loud, insistent knocking from somewhere near the front of his house, accompanied by Sadie and Harley's annoyingly yelpy barks, had him swearing and muttering something about people keeping the hell off his property at seven o'clock on Saturday mornings.
He was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he swung the door open. There was dew on the grass. Soft yellow morning light met his gaze, and the curse on his lips died almost immediately. He blinked, not quite sure he believed what he saw. It was possible he was still dreaming. He blinked once more, and the mirage of Jensen standing in the early morning sunlight, carrying a pink shirt and two cups of steaming coffee, didn't waver.
"Uh…" was Jared's only reply. He was pretty sure his hair was sticking up in all directions, and Jensen's eyes were as green as Jared remembered them, but had big coal-black smudges beneath them, and he looked thinner than Jared recalled.
"You left this at my house," Jensen said, kind of sheepishly, holding up the perfectly ironed shirt. Even from his spot two feet away, Jared could smell the laundry-clean scent that drifted from the shirt.
"I thought, maybe," Jensen continued, eyes earnestly studying Jared, "it would be a good shirt to wear to the wedding." He paused and bit his bottom lip. "That is, um, if you still want to be my date."
Jared blinked at him, at the sweep of long lashes resting on pink cheeks. He stared for a long while, not quite believing his eyes, and not totally trusting his voice. Part of him wanted to shut the door in Jensen's face, turn around and go back to sleep. But another part of him - the part that remembered what it felt like before he had a Jensen-shaped hole in his chest - that part of him wanted to -
He let a small smile work his mouth, and gruffly said, "Only if you help me pick out a tie." He was rewarded by a grin so blinding he couldn't have stopped his stomach from flip-flopping if he tried.
He stepped aside to let Jensen in, but Jensen latched onto his rumpled clothes and gave a mighty tug. He kissed Jared right on his front porch, the bright Texas sun as witness.
six months later
"We're gonna run out of ice," Jensen informed him, as he set an empty tray next to the sink. Jensen looked about ready to jump out of his skin, eyes bright and panicked. "The devilled eggs are already gone, and I think the front toilet is clogged again; my dad's late picking up Mac and James, and my mom keeps hinting that she'd like to see the bedroom."
Jared stifled a loud laugh. The kitchen was oven-warm and smelled of sugar, cinnamon, warm ham and Coke. "One thing at a time," he said slowly, bending low to peer into the oven. He straightened to find Jensen staring at him with wide eyes. "We'll send Chad to get more ice. Your ham is gonna be ready in ten minutes, but we can put out some crackers if people are getting restless - or hey, Sandy brought over that spinach dip yesterday. We can put that out." Even as he spoke, he moved to take it from the fridge, and then heard the front door open, bringing in the sound of happy laughter. "We'll send people to our bathroom 'til I can check the toilet - was Steve in there, by the way? I told him he wasn't allowed to shit here anymore."
Jared set the spinach dip down on the counter and stepped up closer to Jensen. He yanked on Jensen's red and white striped apron, tugging him closer, so their chests were nearly flush. Their eyes met. Jared let a small, private smile pull at his lips, and ducked his head just slightly to meet Jensen's eyes.
"It sounds like your dad's already back with the out of town guests," he murmured, bringing his mouth near Jensen's and brushing against him lightly. He shrugged. "And let your mom see the bedroom; there's nothing to hide."
Against him, he felt Jensen's body relax, go soft and calm in his arms. Jensen leaned in for another kiss. "What would I do without you?" he murmured.
"Panic," Jared answered around a smirk. "More than you already do. Be miserable and mopey."
Jensen nipped at his lips one more time before pulling away. "Thank you," he said.
Just then, the oven buzzer went off. "Ham!" Jared announced happily, finally letting his hands fall from Jensen to pick up an oven mitt.
Jensen found two extra bags of ice in the freezer, and while Jared sliced the ham, Jensen and his mama laid out the rest of the food on their new dinning room table - Danneel's favorite corn pudding, two kinds of potatoes, biscuits, string beans, and three types of salad.
By the time Jared brought out the ham on a large platter, everyone was situated around the table. Danneel was seated with her new boyfriend, Chris, a musician who was shorter than her and spoke with an exaggerated Southern accent. He and Steve seemed to get along well and were already talking about getting together to play next week. Chad was there, along with Sandy and Adrianne, as well as Jensen's whole family, complete with the smiling newlyweds and his nosy mama.
Jared settled into his seat next to Jensen. He raised his glass when Donna demanded a toast.
"To our boys," she said, sending her warm gaze over toward where Jared and Jensen sat. "To their new home and their new life together."
Sunlight shone in through the wide window to the left; it made the whole room sparkle. Jared heard the chime-y sound of glasses meeting, and he clanked his loudly with Jensen's, whose eyes were crinkled above a wide smile.
"To happiness," Jensen said, meeting his gaze.
Under the table, Jared scooted his foot to the left until it connected with Jensen's. He was rewarded with a flush to Jensen's cheeks, though Jensen's smile stayed firmly in place. Jared took a long, happy sip of his wine, and grinned widely when he felt a warm weight settle atop his foot.
The End
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