Starshine, a One Small Step timestamp, J2 AU, 1/1, [PG]

[sandymg]

Title: Starshine
Spanish translation by alfer6
AO3 for ereader downloads
Author: sandymg
Beta: borgmama1of5
Summary: Jared must overcome the anxiety involved in publicizing his graphic novel.
Wordcount: 8K - one-shot
Genre: RPS, J2 AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating/Warnings: PG
Disclaimer: This is fiction. No harm intended. No profit made.
A/N: Banner by the wonderful apieceofcake
A/N2: This is a timestamp to One Small Step, and takes place about 18 months after the end of the original story.


~ Jensen ~
“Merry Christmas!” Jensen bursts in the door, not caring that it’s the third week in June.

He is met with Jared’s adorably blank stare.

“It’s not Christmas.” Jared looks Jensen over head to toe rapidly. His eyes settle somewhere near Jensen’s chest. “Why are you home?”

Anyone else might think Jared is annoyed. But Jensen knows better because Jensen isn’t anyone else - he’s learned to read Jared pretty well this past year and a half, so he answers quickly to assuage the fear of change in routine.

“I’m fine. I have something for you. A present … that’s why I said Merry Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas,” Jared repeats and Jensen can’t help but smile. He wants to say coming home to Jared makes it feel like a holiday every day, but he won’t. There is just so much sentimentality Jared can tolerate and Jensen doesn’t want to bug his husband unnecessarily.

It’s quiet for several moments and then Jared speaks again. “The Apollo 8 astronauts saved Christmas in 1968.”

Jensen nods. Jared’s explained this before. The assassinations of that deadly year - Dr. King and Robert Kennedy, the Vietnam War raging as protests turned violent at home. And on December 24th, the human race viewed its home rising up over the moon’s horizon for the first time and for a precious second, humanity was humbled into reverence.

Jensen sees Jared’s eyes focus on the Earthrise print on the living room wall. It’s stark and beautiful and lonely … just like Jared, who still gets lost in his head and in some ways will always be alone, no matter how much Jensen loves him.

Jensen forces the jolt of melancholy away. Because today is a triumphant day. “Ta-da,” Jensen says with flourish as he holds out the object in his hands.

Jared approaches, eyes wide. “Is that …?”

“An advanced copy, yeah.”

The soft cover book is trade-sized and relatively slim. The cover is an illustration of the Earth as seen from space. Specifically, as seen from the spaceship of the young boy that comes to visit and has to adjust to this strange new world. It’s the comic that Jared was working on when Jensen first got to know him. The one that Jared let Jensen read a few pages at a time as he came to trust Jensen. It’s called The Wrong Planet and features an alien boy named Jay with floppy bangs and a long, fine-boned face.

Jay’s observations about the world are funny, poignant, relevant and timeless.

Jensen loves that boy so much he sometimes feels he will burst into sonnets.

Luckily, he manages to refrain himself.

“Houston, the Eagle has landed,” Jensen jokes, as he drops the book into Jared’s outstretched palms, smiling so bright he’s afraid his face will split.

“You left work to bring me this?” Jared asks softly.

Jensen rolls his eyes before realizing that Jared can’t pick up on the motion because his husband isn’t even looking at him. Jared’s opened the book and is stroking the richly colored panels with one long finger. Jensen waits quietly. He’s dying to hear Jared’s thoughts, his reactions. He knows that so much is going on internally as Jared processes. Outside, unsurprisingly, Jared appears calm, unmoved and unaffected. He could be holding anything, not the comic Jared has poured his life into for the past decade.

Jared turns the pages methodically, and while he isn’t reading each one, he is assessing the quality. He knows what’s supposed to be on each page.

Jensen waits. If he’s learned anything from his relationship with Jared, it’s the value of patience. Usually it’s not so hard but today … well, he’s itching to see Jared react.

As the last page is turned and the book shut, Jared finally looks up. Jensen sees the teeniest creep of grin forming on that handsome face.

“You bastard - you’ve been playin’ me!”

Jared laughs, a magical sound. “I could feel you waiting. You’re noisy when you wait.”

“Well?”

Jared teases him a moment longer, remaining stoic, before breaking out in a huge smile. “Jen … you did it!”

“I did nothing. You did it. It’s your book.”

Squeezing the book to his chest, Jared takes a step closer. “It was nothing but a bunch of scribbles in a notebook. You turned it into a book.”

Jensen rolls his eyes again. “Nonsense. It’s my job to recognize a good manuscript. That’s what a publisher does.” Jensen can’t help but notice the way the book is being held against Jared’s heart.

“Has Sandy seen it?” Jared asks.

Sandy is Jensen’s assistant and Jared’s best friend. Well, best friend who isn’t Jensen, is how Jared would describe it. “Yep. She took a bunch of copies. I think she has a list of people she’s promised it to.” Jensen knows as he continues that he’s pushing but it comes out anyway. “Jay, we need to talk about PR.”

Jared doesn’t reply. Sometimes he nods or gives another sign of acknowledgment that Jensen has his attention and should continue. Other times, Jared goes into full Aspie mode and tells Jensen to just say it. Now, he’s clutching the book to his chest and staring at the Earthrise print. Jensen tells himself to get on with it.

“There are some things tentatively scheduled.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

Jensen opens his mouth to protest but Jared has spun on his heel and left the room and dammit … Jensen really hates when Jared does that.

~ Jared ~
It’s not his bedroom any longer. When he and Jensen got married and decided to live in Jared’s apartment they put the new bed they bought into Jared’s parents’ old bedroom because it was bigger.

Jensen expressed some concern but Jared thought that was silly. His parents had been happy in this apartment, in that bedroom. Why would taking over that room upset Jared? He hadn’t done it before because the smaller room had been perfectly fine for just Jared. Sometimes his husband had the oddest ideas about things.

Well, not just his husband. Neurotypicals had a lot of strange ways of seeing things.

As Jared’s old bed had been removed, Jensen stared at the movers taking it away and Jared wondered what the odd expression on his husband’s face meant. He was proud for noticing it at all, so he asked.

“We first made love on that bed,” Jensen had replied as soon as the movers were out of earshot.

Jared had laughed. His husband is a sentimental idiot. But Jared loves him. Like he’d loved his parents, only different. But just as much. He’d told Jensen that and tears had come to Jensen’s eyes and Jared felt bad because crying was bad. But then Jensen had kissed him hard and explained this was the good kind of crying.

So what had been Jared’s bedroom is now an office. He lays the book down on his desk.

There is moisture in his eyes. Yep, this is the good kind of crying.

After a couple minutes he feels breathing behind him. Jensen hugs him from behind and Jared brings his hand down to clutch at the hands at his waist.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Jensen murmurs.

No. Jensen has it wrong. Jared quickly spins around.

“Good tears,” he says by way of explanation. He points to the book. How is it even possible that his silly little drawings are reproduced so beautifully? It’s a miracle. Jared thinks of his poppa and how proud he’d be right now.

“Ah,” Jensen says. “Delayed reaction?”

Jared isn’t sure what Jensen means. It’s one of those NT phrases that make no sense. “No.”

Jensen says nothing.

Jared breaks the eye contact when it gets uncomfortable. Eye contact is easier with Jensen than with anyone else in the world. But there are always limits.

“Jay?”

Jared sighs. “We spoke about this. If the book sells, then it sells. I don’t need the money.”

Jensen’s voice is rough. “It’s not about the money. I’ve told you that. Your book is good. I want as many people as possible to find it, to read it. The only way to achieve that is for us to publicize it.”

“Do it without me.”

“Contrary to romantic views, secretive authors don’t sell books.”

Jared’s annoyance flares. “We’re back to that again. I don’t care if the book sells. I never did.”

“When you signed the contract you agreed to a certain amount of-“

“Fine. Sue me.”

Jared wishes for Jensen to leave his bedroom now. Only it’s not his bedroom anymore and Jared is suddenly bothered by that. He wants his old room back. They moved a second bookcase in here along the wall that previously held the bed. It’s filled with his mother’s photo albums and scrap books. Before, it had been in the living room. It was hard for Jared to move it, but they had to make room for Jensen’s bookshelves. He scans the shelves’ familiar content to calm himself, when an unexpected gap fills his vision.

“Where is Momma’s recipe book?”

Jensen has taken a step back, he’s breathing hard and Jared can spot the frustration emanating from him. But he’s too bothered by what he can’t find to let himself feel any accomplishment at reading Jensen.

“Where is it?” he asks again, voice rising.

“Where is what?” Jensen shoots back. “What are you talking about?”

“Momma’s recipe book!” It should be on the third shelf, six from the left. It’s not there. He sucks in air. Apollo 14 was the first Apollo mission to be delayed at launch. He starts running some facts on a loop. They conducted secret ESP experiments. He sinks into the desk chair and starts rocking. They came back with 94 pounds of moon rocks.

Jensen touches his arm. “I used it the other night when fixing dinner. I think I left it in the kitchen. I’ll go get-“

“The book belongs here.” Jared knows his voice is too loud but can’t help himself. “It belongs here. She kept it here. Well, not in this room but on that shelf, and you moved it from where it belongs and you promised. You promised it would be okay. And it’s not. It’s not okay because things are missing and Momma always kept it here and then Poppa said we’d keep it here so I could make things like she did after she died. But they weren’t the same. He said they were, only they weren’t, but I didn’t argue because when I did it made him cry the bad way.”

This is all said with one long breath and Jared feels lightheaded. It’s a good thing he’s sitting. Jensen quietly leaves the room. He returns a few minutes later holding the recipe book. Jared tries but can’t make out anything from Jensen’s face. He’s too upset. He’s rocking and he knows he looks weird, he knows he’s scaring Jensen and what if … what if Jensen realizes that Jared will never really belong. Not really. Not on the same planet as Jensen. The world will always feel a little wrong.

Silently, Jensen slips the book back on the third shelf down, in the sixth spot from the left.

Something eases in Jared’s gut as the book settles into place.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen says into the quiet.

Jared reaches out with his pointer finger to ensure it’s lined up exactly at the shelf’s edge. “You should have put it back.”

“Yes,” Jensen agrees, taking a step closer. Jared throws his arms around Jensen’s middle, buries his nose in Jensen’s sternum. He inhales, identifying the starchy smell from the shirt laundering service Jensen uses and the slight remnants of bleach lingering beneath that on Jensen’s white undershirt. His fingers press into the muscles of Jensen’s lower spine and Jensen shivers once before he starts rubbing soft circles on the back of Jared’s head, fingers kneading gently in his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen says again. “You were happy. I just gave you your first copy of your book. I shouldn’t’ve-I’m sorry.”

Jared takes another deep breath. “I did promise to allow some publicity. I signed the contract. You are right.”

Jensen leans down and kisses the top of Jared’s head and Jared remembers his momma doing that when Jared was a little boy and would get frightened. He’s never told Jensen that - but Jensen always knows things he hasn’t been told.

“The PR? I won’t force you. Never. Know that, okay?”

Jared feels calmer now. “Annie Glenn had such a bad stutter she couldn’t even use the telephone.”

“Jared, you don’t have to prove anything.”

“She appeared in interviews with John, sometimes silent, sometimes just saying a word or two … or smiling. Her husband is known as the hero. But she’s a hero just as much. No matter how hard it was she never quit. In the 1980s she went into yet another intensive therapy program. For three weeks she worked eleven hours a day on her speech. It was a new technique and it worked for her. Her first public speech was to 300 women who shared her speech impediment. She told her story, left most of the audience in tears. She said it took her two days to recuperate from that speech.”

“Jay-” Jensen tries to interrupt again but Jared raises his head and their eyes lock.

“I can’t ‘cure’ what I am. And as much as I sometimes get frustrated, I wouldn’t want to, not if it meant losing myself. But I can do what Annie Glenn did. I can share.” Jensen is looking at him with so much emotion that Jared thinks if it turned into wind it would knock him over. He fights discomfort and keeps looking his husband in the eyes. “Jay. The boy in the book. You know, he’s me.”

This is obvious. And Jared knows that Jensen’s been aware of it from the start. But Jared’s never stated it outright. He feels more naked than he’s ever felt before.

“I know,” Jensen says, voice cracking slightly. “I fell in love with that boy.”

Jared touches the cover of the book. “Maybe a few book signings. And one or two interviews.”

Jensen’s eyes are huge and he takes Jared’s hands in his, helping him up off the chair slowly. His eyes follow Jared’s face upward. “Only if you are sure. I can’t help it, I’m so proud of you and I think this book will reach people in so many ways. It’s a celebration, Jay. Of you, of life, of humanity. I know I’m biased, being madly in love with the author.” He smiles. “But I’m not the only one who has read it. It touches people. Deeply. They will want to meet you. That’s human nature.”

Jared can’t help but be skeptical. He’s never completely understood Jensen’s passion about the comic. “It’s the musings of an alien boy that never belonged.” He fears people will want to gape at the freak. He can’t tell Jensen that … knows it would hurt him and he can’t bear that. Jared doesn’t lie…but he’s learned to keep some thoughts to himself.

“That boy is the most human character I’ve come across in a long time. He’s beautiful. And he makes people better just by knowing him.”

For the millionth time Jared wishes his poppa had lived long enough to meet Jensen. He loves him to the end of the universe and back. Or forever, as Jensen quickly figured out.

“Can you be there?”

“Of course. Always.”

“Have Sandy arrange it,” he says because he trusts her to book him with a media outlet that will be gentle.

~ Jensen ~
Jensen moves his hand to his collar for what feels like the fifth time in as many seconds. He knows that Sandy will call if Jared changes his mind. He also knows that Jared won’t change his mind. Once Jared commits to something his word is golden. But Jensen also knows how uncomfortable the publicity is making Jared and while Jensen believes it important, there’s a part of him that hates himself for making Jared do this.

The Times’ reporter sitting across from him in the small conference room is tall and slim, with dark hair and eyes suggesting Hispanic roots. He guesses her age anywhere from mid- to late-thirties. After crossing her legs gracefully, she checks her phone again. He wonders what it would be like to get that many texts. If he gets three personal texts a day, it’s a record. His mother will text once in a while. Tom texts him regarding LGBT events. Some of the editors he’s gotten close to, like Danneel and Genevieve, will send the occasional personal message. Sandy will text him on those rare occasions he leaves the office early and she has to remind him of something.

Jared doesn’t text him.

Jensen asked once if Jared wanted to, told him he could throughout the day, if he liked. Jared had quit the mailroom after they got married to expand the foundation that his grandmother had started. He’d only taken the mailroom job at Jensen’s publishing house to force himself to socialize. Now Jared attends meetings regarding grant applications and coordinates fund raising efforts. Sandy often accompanies him and Jensen always shuffles the work schedule to be sure she has the time to go.

All of this has been wonderful for Jared, who is literally flourishing. But they no longer see each other during the day like they used to when Jared would pass by with his mail cart. Jensen didn’t realize how much those moments meant to him until they were gone. So he’d suggested the texting.

But Jared had stared at him blankly. “Why?”

“Just to say hi.”

“We can say hello when you come home.”

Jensen had felt disappointed. “I miss you during the day. It was nice to see you in the office…sneak a kiss, share a hug.”

Jared looked at him perplexed. “A text will give us none of that.”

“No, but it’ll be a connection.”

“We can try.”

Jensen tried but Jared hardly ever texted him back. It was another one of those ways that their wiring differed. Jared was always happy to see Jensen. But sharing silly anecdotes electronically while apart held no appeal.

When Jensen did come home, Jared almost always greeted him with a hug and kiss. And feeling Jared’s lips on his, tugging Jensen’s full lower lip with his teeth before running the tip of his tongue over the same spot … well, it sure as heck beat a cold, disconnected text. So Jensen stopped complaining over that.

“Do you think he’ll be here soon?” The reporter’s query breaks Jensen’s thoughts. “I am on deadline.” She smiles tightly.

Jensen glances at his watch. Jared is late. That doesn’t bode well. Jared hates being late. Jensen can’t even recall the last time he was late to anything. Worry squirrels around Jensen’s gut. He pulls out his phone to call Sandy when the door opens and Sandy charges in. He looks past her and spots Jared outside the conference room, pacing frantically.

Sandy meets Jensen’s eyes and says, “Traffic.” She points with her chin toward Jared and Jensen excuses himself, knowing that Sandy will smooth things over with the reporter until he can calm Jared down.

“Jay,” Jensen says softly.

“It’s two-oh-six,” Jared says flatly.

The meeting was for two pm. “It’s okay … Sandy explained that you hit some traffic.”

The pacing accelerates. Jared’s running his hand convulsively through his hair. Jensen’s heart pounds. This is a disaster. Six minutes late isn’t even a blip for most folks. But Jared really doesn’t like being late. He’s staring at the conference room door that Jensen had shut behind him.

“I don’t know this door,” Jared says.

Oh no. Jared doesn’t like walking through doors he doesn’t recognize. But while he was employed in the building he’d worked through that. Sandy told him that all the conference rooms were essentially the same and while Jared admitted that a new door still caused a little anxiety, it hadn’t been a gamestopper for a long time.

“It’s just like the East Conference Room … only we’re on the west end of the floor. In fact, I bet you’ve been here before.”

Jared shakes his head violently. “No. I haven’t been here before. I never saw that door.” He checks his watch. “It’s two-oh-eight.”

Jensen knows that Jared letting his Aspie out this way is a sign of how much he trusts Jensen. How with Jensen, he doesn’t try as hard to be what others would expect. And that’s right. As it should be with one’s family. Except there’s a reporter waiting in that room that’s willing to write a New York Times magazine mini-profile on Jared and Jensen really doesn’t want to lose this opportunity.

He thinks quickly. “I rescheduled.”

“What?”

“I saw a traffic report and knew two o’clock would be impossible so I rescheduled the meeting for two-fifteen. You’re a little early but I think it would be okay if you go in now.” Jensen keeps his face neutral. Lying to Jared is abhorrent. But this interview is so important.

Jared glances at his watch again. “It’s two-ten. I have to pee.”

Jensen fights the frustrated sigh bubbling up. Jared will only go to the restroom in the basement, near the mailroom. He’d gotten used to that one and he doesn’t use restrooms he isn’t familiar with. It’s just not something he can do.

“Let’s go inside and I’ll introduce you. You’ll be on time.” Jensen pauses and licks his lips as Jared squirms on the spot. “Then … I’ll say we need to take a quick break … You can go then. Okay?”

Jared is mulling this over. He glances at his watch another time. Jensen hates to push but he has to. “We have to go in now.” Jensen can see Jared staring intently at the door. Then Jared holds out his hand and Jensen squeezes it hard.

They walk in together and Jensen watches as Jared inhales deeply and pulls out all his tricks. He meets the woman’s eyes and shakes her hand. He’s staring at her with purpose and Jensen can see Jared process her annoyance when Jensen brings up taking a short break first.

Jensen catches Jared’s eyes as Jared turns to head to the restroom. They are sad and agitated and Jensen hates what he sees. What he caused. He excuses himself as well and gives Sandy a grateful look, knowing she will have to deal with the reporter for another ten minutes.

“I’ll walk you to the restroom.”

Jared steps into to the elevator. “I’m not stupid,” he says as soon as the doors shut behind them.

“I never-“

“Even if you did reschedule - which, now I’m not sure you did-she’s still been waiting around and she’s angry. So now an angry woman has to deal with me.”

The doors open and Jared practically jogs to the restroom. “I always have to pee more when I get nervous.”

Jensen knows that and says nothing. He waits outside. A few minutes later, the door bursts back open and Jared moves to plow past him, but Jensen grabs his bicep. “Wait. Please. A few more minutes won’t make a difference.”

“Jensen … “

“Jay. Please.”

Jared stops and looks at Jensen, eyes hard and ungiving.

“If only you could see what I see. That woman is lucky to get to speak with you. You are smart and funny and talented. You’re compassionate and loving and loyal. You’re my best friend who I’ve been lucky enough to get to marry me. Even though I’m a jerk sometimes.”

This last surprises Jared who starts to disagree. But Jensen perseveres. “I lied. We didn’t reschedule. You’re just late.”

The hurt blazes behind Jared’s eyes and Jensen feels like he’s kicked a puppy off a cliff.

“I want this,” Jensen admits before Jared can respond. “I want the world to know how amazing you are and how incredible your writing is. But it’s not my book. It’s your story. Your baby. You let me publish it and I’m thankful for that. What happens next is up to you. We can go back and cancel if you wish. We can really reschedule. We can let her ask her questions and only answer what you feel comfortable talking about. It’s your call.”

Jared leans against the wall. He’s no longer looking at his watch and Jensen doesn’t know what to make of that. He doesn’t meet Jensen’s eyes and stares at the wall opposite as he speaks. “Lying is poison. It means you don’t respect me. It’s the opposite of love, Jensen.”

Jensen swallows. He’s fucked this up badly. They’ve had two serious fights before this one. Both about lying. The hardest thing about living with an Aspie is the honesty it entails. One would think that wouldn’t be particularly difficult. But Jensen catches himself in so many small untruths. The worst though is when the lie is like this one - related directly to trying to change Jared.

Jensen feels ill.

“If you respect my book as much as you say... If you want folks to read it and get to know the character… Well, then you have to respect me.”

“I do,” Jensen replies. “I fucked up. But I do. I panicked because I thought you wouldn’t go through with it because of the traffic jam. And I … I wanted it … “

Jared pushes off the wall and puts his hands on Jensen’s upper arms. “I know you did. It’s the New York Times.” Jared smiles weakly. “And I know that the only reason you want me to do this interview is that you love me.”

Jensen releases the breath he’s been holding. He reaches up to push Jared’s hair off his forehead. “I do love you. So much.” He doesn’t say more, pushes down the irrational fear that one of these times will be the fuckup too many and Jared will leave him. Like his father did, years ago.

He’s grabbed in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispers into Jared’s ear.

“Me, too,” Jared replies.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I can be hard to deal with. I know that. You … usually are so patient. Most people run for the hills when I let my Aspie out.”

“Yeah, but I’m your NT, right? Not getting rid of me.”

Jared squeezes him harder and smiles at him before pulling back. “I think I’m ready now.”

They walk back together, hand in hand.

At the doorway, Jared turns to Jensen. “I’m going to be myself. It’s all I know.”

Jensen smiles at him. “It’s all you need to know.”

Turns out the reporter is a softie and melts the first time Jared shows her his dimples.

Jensen understands that feeling intimately.

He’s proud of Jared but can’t help thinking about what’s to come. This was a single person and Jared always does best one-on-one. But they’ve scheduled some events that will involve many more people. Again he feels guilt. Is he doing the right thing, thrusting Jared out into the world like this?

~ Jared ~
Jared spends the waiting time running the usual tricks through his mind. Look up, smile when they smile, nod after they speak, don’t rock, stand up and ask for a break if you have to.

Sandy smiles at him. She’s so tiny that even though he’s sitting and she’s standing they are almost the same height. Her hand rests on his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jared wishes he could agree. This is his first book signing. There is a crowd standing on the other side of the temporary rope. As the numbers grow, Jared’s heart beats faster. Sandy is here but Jensen is not. Jensen arranged that Sandy would be with Jared during the set up and Jensen promised he’d get there when the signing actually started. Only there wasn’t much prep work and Jared doesn’t think there’s much time to go. He swallows once and forces the saliva down his tightening throat.

The book store manager comes over and neatens the Sharpies she’d placed there earlier next to the couple of bottles of water. Behind him is a poster of his book resting on an easel. Satisfied, she says, “I’m going to open it up now” and lets the first person through.

Jensen’s not here.

A young man, early twenties, steps up briskly and puts the book in front of Jared.

“Who would you like me to sign it to?” Jared asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Norm,” the boy replies, eyes up and staring somewhere behind Jared.

Jared signs quickly and the next person steps into place. “To Tina,” she says with a shy giggle. Jared looks up at her and guesses she’s maybe seventeen. Asian, with long dark hair, a petite nose and high striking cheekbones. Jared thinks she’s exceptionally pretty and can’t help but smile.

“It was really good,” she says. “Jay just … I felt like he got me, you know.”

Jared didn’t know and didn’t think his comic would have much pertinence to this girl. But then again, he started writing it when he was barely older than she is now. Perhaps it’s the universal connection of youth at work here.

Sandy touches his shoulder again and Jared looks toward her. She has her phone in her hand. “I’m sorry, Jay. Jensen is … there’s this publisher’s meeting. Last second. He doesn’t know if-”

Jared jumps up, startling the person in front of him that just placed his book on the table. The man steps backward.

“He’s not coming?” Jared can’t quite look at Sandy.

The man recovers and pushes the book closer to Jared and their eyes unexpectedly meet. Jared isn’t expecting it. The man is tall, almost as tall as Jared and he’s suddenly immersed in the stranger’s muddy brown irises and Jared feels queasy.

“My kid wanted this signed. I’m on my dinner break. I work near here.”

Jared looks out at the snaking line of people. They all twitch and shift, impatience steaming off them in hot curls. To his right, the store manager picks up one of the Sharpies and hands it to him. “What’s the name?” she asks the man.

“Bradley,” he replies.

Sandy murmurs that it’ll be okay. But it’s not. Because Jensen isn’t here and he promised.

Jared signs his name and forces himself back into the chair.

“Jensen promised,” he tells Sandy who looks at him with what he imagines must be sympathy.

The next person is a woman who starts talking right away. She’s in her forties with medium length gold hair and long red fingernails. Her smile is unnaturally white and Jared is reminded of some of his professors in school. The ones that thought teaching was about already knowing all the answers. She asks a question about Jay. Jared feels his face heat. He didn’t agree to talk about the book today. It was bad enough with the interviews. Jensen told him this wouldn’t be like that. It would be easier. Just sign your name.

“What do you think he would have told his father if the communicator hadn’t failed like it did? Would he have asked him why?”

Jared can’t help himself. He stares at the woman’s forehead and says, “Why what?”

“Why did he leave his boy on this planet to fend for himself?”

“He had no choice.”

She runs a finger over her mouth and Jared can’t help but track the red polish. “Did the boy know that?”

Both Sandy and the manager start shifting to move this woman along but Jared needs to answer her. “Not always.”

“You wrote that he was the most alone boy on all the planet. So why not just go home? That was the part I found hardest to understand,” she insists.

“The spaceship was broken. So this was the planet he had to live on. He couldn’t go home. He had to make a home.”

“That’s so sad, that he’ll never fit in,” she says as her parting words.

As the next person moves in, Jared pulls out his phone. He makes a point of looking up and apologizing for the slight delay, but he has to send a text.

~ Jensen ~
Despite only having been in the conference room chair for a half hour, Jensen feels like hours have passed. The senior editors are discussing the new acquisition with delight, and normally Jensen would be sharing the excitement. The purchase of this smaller publishing house means hundreds of good titles and new authors to partner with and it’s the kind of thing that Jensen normally lives for.

Except this is Jared’s first book signing and Jensen’s not there.

A vibration tickles his hip, and despite it being bad form, he quietly removes his phone from his hip pocket to check it.

It’s a text from Jared and contains only three words.

Jensen feels his heart stop and clutches the edge of the polished table. Never in the eighteen months they’ve known each other has Jared ever said this to him. He rises and all eyes stare at him.

“Excuse me. I have … I have to leave.”

His boss eyes him sharply and Jensen sees a puzzled flash.

“I’m sorry,” he says and walks out the door.

~~

It’s a short taxi ride until Jensen is in front of the downtown bookstore. He sees the posters advertising the signing and can’t help but smile at Jared’s beautiful face in the small inset photo on the book poster. That had been a struggle. Jared hadn’t wanted to be photographed for the book cover. Jensen had explained how folks always wanted a glimpse of the writer. Not to mention that handsome sells and Jared has that in spades.

Walking into the large shop, Jensen heads to where he knows they typically set up their signing events. The line contains maybe thirty people, and given that Jared is completely unknown and that the signing has been going on for about an hour he’s impressed. Fighting the urge to run to let Jared know he’s here, Jensen hangs back to observe first.

An older woman is leaning in to say something to Jared. Jensen worries that she’s getting too close and is about to intervene when he sees Jared put his hand out and take the woman’s hand in his own. Then he looks down and signs the book. Jensen can’t hear what is said, only sees the conversation last a little longer.

A tug on Jensen’s arm startles him.

Sandy beams up at him. “Jensen. You made it.”

Jensen looks back at Jared before returning his attention to Sandy. “He texted me.”

Sandy’s brows furrow and then her eyes widen. “The blond.”

“What?”

“There was this pushy woman, one of the first. She kept asking questions.”

“What do you mean?” Jensen asks.

“About Jay in the book. Looking to dissect him. And you know how personal it all is. She asked about his father. I mean, it’s not totally her fault. There are things one can’t get from just reading. But it shook him.”

Jensen lets anger surge toward the faceless woman, then he turns it on himself because he wasn’t here. “He texted … “

“What?” Sandy asks.

“Never mind. How’s it going now?”

She smiles up at him. “Good. Nobody else was like that. It’s stayed pretty uneventful. I think Jared’s feeling okay about it now.”

As if sensing that they are talking about him, Jared looks around and spots them. His eyes lock on Jensen and his body stiffens. Jensen doesn’t know what to think and his gut twists. How many times can he fail his husband before the other man decides this wasn’t the partnership he sought?

He walks over and catches the tail end of what the person in front of Jared is saying. She’s a middle-aged woman with shoulder length dark hair and thick, black-framed glasses on her nose. Her face is slightly flushed and her breath just a little too fast as she speaks.

“… son’s inner world. I knew, but nobody else seems to believe. I know it’s not the same. I mean you are two different people. But you drew … it’s a window I can finally look through. Thank you.”

Jared starts to hand the book back to the woman but then stops and opens to the inside back cover and doodles something. Jared looks around her and that’s when Jensen spots the little boy huddled behind his mom. He’s nine, maybe ten, hard to tell, he’s standing very still but his hands are moving and Jensen notices the quick repetitive movements of the boy’s fingers. The mother takes the book and stares at what Jared’s drawn.

“That’s us,” she says, showing the images to the boy. “Aaron … look.”

Her son glances at the book, face not changing but his hands stop, and Jensen knows he’s processing. A second later, his fingers start moving around each other again and, gaze meeting nothing in particular, the boy grins.

Jared smiles and motions to the store manager. “I need a five minute break.” It’s spoken loud enough for the crowd to hear, and there is a little ripple but no complaints.

Jensen knows they are watching as Jared approaches him, but doesn’t care. He pulls Jared to him and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Lately that seems to be all he’s saying.

“You’re here.”

Jensen feels even worse and he hadn’t really thought that was possible. “Of course. You … you had to know I’d come.”

Jared smiles and Jensen feels like a boulder is lifted from his chest. “I was having a drama moment. Sorry about that.”

The laugh that bursts out from Jensen surprises them both. After a few seconds, Jensen sobers. “Did you mean it?”

Now Jensen doesn’t know what he wants - whether to hear a yes or a no. Somehow both seem like they’ll hurt to hear.

Jared tilts Jensen’s head up with a finger till their eyes meet. “Always,” he says, voice gentle yet certain.

Fighting back the urge to kiss Jared in a very inappropriate way given the setting, Jensen squeezes Jared hard before looking back at the line. “They behaving?”

“Yes. Some of them ask questions. It feels … I feel exposed. But then there are others who are alone, like me, who are just looking for somewhere to belong.”

“Your book gives them that.”

Jared looks at him with surprise. “That’s why you--? You knew?”

“That it would touch people? Of course. Jay’s experiences are unique in that way that we all spin through life on our own. But he also speaks truths. And those can be universal.”

Jared looks at Jensen and while his expression is as calm as ever Jensen knows he’s reshaping things into a new order.

“Okay,” he says finally, lips curling up in a grin. He tips his chin back to the line. “I have to go back. Can’t keep them waiting.” He hesitates, looks almost bashful and Jensen melts a little bit more. “Are you staying?”

“I’ll be right here,” Jensen assures.

~ Jared ~
There aren’t many people left in the line. A few store patrons look curiously at the dwindling crowd and pick up the book to thumb through it. One or two buy it and join the line to get it signed. Those don’t say anything to him, as they haven’t read the story yet.

A teenage girl approaches, she’s clutching the book hard. “I’m an Aspie,” she says. Her hair is cornrowed, and the tiny beads at the ends click as she talks and moves her head. She pushes her book in front of Jared, eyes alarmingly in his face for a split second before looking away. They are a startlingly beautiful amber brown and Jared is amazed that he noticed an eye color in a positive way. Only happened with Jensen before.

“What’s your name?”

“Nisha.”

“Pretty name,” Jared says as he opens the cover.

The girl rocks from foot to foot but quickly stops. “I’m still there. I mean, on the wrong planet, like Jay. You don’t say … does he ever get to go home?”

Jared looks toward Jensen who is speaking softly with Sandy, then back at Nisha, but he looks around her face so as to not force her into another uncomfortable stare.

“No.” Her expression remains the same but Jared knows he needs to explain, can’t leave it like that. “It didn’t work that way for Jay. Instead, home found him.”

She blinks. “You mean his father came back for him?”

“No. Jay meets someone. It’s not in this part of the story. I’m working on the next part now. He meets someone from here. Someone special that loves him as he is … someone who doesn’t expect him to lose himself to be with them. That person becomes Jay’s home.”

Jared chances a glance and sees Nisha’s eyes are bright. “Mom thinks I don’t try enough. I think she’s tired of having the weird daughter.”

“You aren’t weird. I remember times my momma would get upset or frustrated. You need to remember that no matter what planet we come from we share some things. I’m sure there are times NTs frustrate you, too.”

Nisha nods vigorously. “They never say what they mean. My best friend in school … I spend more time trying to figure out what she means. Why can’t she just say it? Why is that simple act so hard for them?”

“I don’t know. And I can’t say it totally gets better because it’s still hard for me sometimes. Even with my husband, I don’t always understand his choices. But that’s not necessarily the point, Nisha. It’s not about understanding immediately - it’s about both of you being willing to ask. If your friend and your mom are willing to let you explain and to explain themselves, then you’ll get there. It takes patience. But all good things are worth waiting for.”

Jared gives Nisha’s face another look, and makes a spur-of-the-moment decision. “Do you have time to wait?” Her hair beads clack as she nods, and she steps away from the table to wait by the book display. It doesn’t take long to sign the books of the remaining people.

“Where were we?” he asks Nisha as the last person moves away.

“Waiting,” she says and the joke makes them both smile.

“What do you know about the sun?” Jared asks her.

“Not much,” she admits with a small head tilt.

“Well, our sun, our star, is the single most important thing for living things on this planet. Without it there wouldn’t be any life; it’s as simple as that.”

Nisha looks at Jared, eyes not quite meeting his, but he knows he has her attention. “So in a way,” he continues, “We are all always waiting for eight minutes for the very miracle that makes our lives possible.”

“Huh?” she says.

“It takes eight point three minutes for the light from the sun to reach Earth.”

“Jay came from a farther star,” she tells Jared.

“Yes.”

“You wrote that when he looked at the sky he could only see the past. That it was all history. I thought that was cool. Like a time machine.”

“Starshine is time travel. When we look at the glow of a star, we are glancing back toward the beginning of time.”

She sighs. “Wish it worked the other way, too. So I could look ahead and know my home will find me, too.”

Jared reopens the book he already signed for her. “Here,” he says and beckons for her to lean in so he could keep his comment quiet. “That’s my phone number. I run a foundation and could use volunteers. Think you might be interested? It’ll give us a chance to talk some more.”

The teenager nods and her face breaks into a shy smile. “Not sure about the volunteering,” she admits.

“That’s up to you. The talking offer stands either way.”

Jared hands her the book and sees the store manager is holding the door open for Nisha to leave. She is the last customer. Jensen is standing, arms folded over his chest, trying to look like he’s not itching to come closer, but right now his husband’s signs are obvious.

When Nisha passes Jensen she looks up. “You’re his home,” she says, no questioning in her inflection.

Jensen gives her a startled look as she gives Jared a ‘thumbs up’ on the way out the door.

Jensen comes over. “What was that about?”

“The farthest objects we can detect in the sky are quasars - they are so far away that we are viewing their light from billions of years ago.”

Jensen meets his eyes and Jared notices again how green they are, how beautiful. It always makes his heart feel full when he acknowledges that.

“I wish I could make just some of the connections that come to you so easily, Jay. Your universe is this string of lights that intersect and where I see chaos, you bring it into order.”

Only Jensen pulls emotion from him like drawing liquid through a straw.

“The girl’s name is Nisha. And she might call to chat.”

Jensen smiles. “So, you’re all done. Wanna grab something to eat before heading home?”

Jared is tired. It went well but he met a lot of strangers today. More than he ever remembered meeting before at one time. He wants to be home. He only wants Jensen.

Jared hears Sandy’s phone ring from across the space and with an inner groan he remembers that his phone vibrated earlier with a text. He ignored it because of the signing, but knows it’s his responsibility to check it now that he has time. The only texts he gets are about foundation business.

Motioning one moment with his hand, Jared opens his cell and checks the message.

Oh. It’s from Jensen.

I need you, too.

“Let’s order in,” Jared swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “I think I’m done with people who aren’t you.”

Jensen opens his arms wide and encompasses Jared in a tight hug. “You did so good today, babe.”

Jared ignores the nickname - usually he teases Jensen about that, finds it ridiculous. Somehow today it’s not annoying.

“How many more of these do you have planned?” Jared asks as he feels the tension in his body disappearing.

“Two in the city. Maybe more if the book sales take off.” Jensen looks at him seriously. “You up for it?”

So many people. It’s scary. They all want something … to look at him, or ask him something, or tell him something. People are needy things.

Only Jared didn’t feel like he was one of the needy any more. Jensen had changed that.

“It’s been a long way, but we’re here.”

Jensen eyes him sideways. “I give up, who said it?”

Jared smiles widely. “Alan Shepard.” Jensen used to look at him with those huge eyes when Jared quoted someone. Maybe he’d thought Jared made all that up on the spot. But nowadays Jensen just asks.

Sandy is waiting by the door and the manager approaches to shake Jared’s hand goodbye. She thanks Jared for being so patient with the customers. He can sense Jensen beaming next to him.

“Ready to go home?” Jensen asks.

Jared takes his husband’s hand and squeezes slightly, letting the warmth of Jensen’s grip ride up his arm and straight to his heart. “I already am.”

fin

Timestamp: Neil Armstrong and the Wicked Witch of the West