We Carved Our Love In Oak: Part 6
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Jensen wakes up the next morning with the rise of the sun. It’s colder than it was last night, and he instinctively moves closer, before he realizes with a sickening turn of his stomach what he’s doing. He pulls back with a start and lands on the ground, rolling on his side as Jared blinks awake and turns to stare at him, looking pale and tired.
“Oh,” Jensen breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
“It’s okay,” Jared says, suddenly awake, blinking more rapidly now. “You were fucked, Jen--”
“Yeah,” Jensen says, swallowing. “Yeah, we both were.”
They land in an uncomfortable silence before Jared breaks it with a short laugh, rubbing his eyes with his hand.
“I can’t believe we slept outside on the ground. Again.”
"Shit," Jensen says, sitting up. "I'm gonna feel this later."
"You're an old man," Jared quips, sitting up, too.
Just like that they've slipped back into a comfortable atmosphere and Jensen's glad the awkwardness has passed.
"Rise and shine, boys," Katie calls, stepping out of her tent.
Jared and Jensen both turn to say hi to her, and slowly the other two are poking their heads out and stepping out into the morning sunshine.
They make breakfast, brush their teeth and have quick shaves, getting ready to leave.
“Do you two want to stick around? Or are you getting back on the road?” Misha asks.
“We’re going to keep moving,” Jared says. “Thanks for last night though, guys. Really.”
“See you, boys!” Katie says, slipping a hand around Danneel’s waist.
“Bye!” They both call over their shoulders, and it’s not long until they’ve disappeared from sight and laughter and happiness is rising through the trees behind them, getting quieter the farther Jared and Jensen go.
They walk back to the truck and Jared unlocks his door before throwing the keys to Jensen.
Jared gets behind the wheel of the truck and they get comfortable, rolling down the windows and sorting out the radio, Jensen passing the keys back over. Jared turns on the engine and Jensen slips on his shades, the day already getting hot.
“Wait,” Jared says, abruptly cutting off the engine and undoing his seatbelt. “We haven’t left our mark!”
He turns to Jensen with a grin before jumping out the truck and rooting through their bags to find Jensen’s penknife. Jensen huffs a laugh and jumps onto the dusty ground, walking towards the nearest tree and running a hand over the bark.
Jared walks on over with the penknife in hand and looks up at the tree.
“You want this one?” he asks, slapping his hand on the bark.
“Sure,” Jensen says.
Jared flashes a grin at him and then leans forward, pressing the blade into the tree to make his J.
He passes the penknife over and Jared does the same until there are two Js side by side.
They get back onto the road and continue driving onwards, stopping for gas and food breaks along the way.
When night falls they decide to rough it again to save money, and park up in a quiet parking lot in the middle of nowhere.
Jensen makes up the back of the truck with blankets and clothes, so it’s soft and comfortable to lie on.
They rest in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, staring up at the sky, bright starts starting to scatter across the inky black darkness.
“There are startling moments in life, right?” Jared says, and Jensen turns his head towards him, listening. “There probably aren’t that many. Like when your kid is born, or when you get married, or when you figure out you’re gay or whatever.”
Jensen snorts. “Yeah, that was pretty startling.”
Jared rolls his eyes but there’s a smile on his face. “I always think for every big, meaningful moment in life there’s a song to go with it.”
You’re my best friend.
I don’t think there’s anyone quite like you, Jay.
Shut up, you love me. You know you do.
Jensen gives a half-smile and asks, “What big moments have you got music for, then?”
“I’m working on them,” Jared says, with a grin. “And when they happen? I’ll know.”
Jensen’s sure Jared doesn’t even know what he’s searching for. It's enough, for now, to be beside each other on another long stretch of open road.
He sits up a little and says, “Okay. Right now. If you were to pick a song for right now, what would it be?”
“Man, I could make an entire playlist right now. I’m going to cheat. I’m going to say Seasick Steve.”
“Who’s that?”
Jared smiles. “I’ll show you, sometime. I think you’d like him.”
Jensen would like a playlist made by Jared, someday. He hopes that their adventure will cause a few meaningful moments of its own.
He falls asleep next to Jared and slips into dreams.
***
His shoes are scuffed and his shorts are frayed and too short above his knees. He’s five years old and he has the widest smile with no front teeth.
Wanna play?
They become fast friends and soon inseparable, where it's always Jared&Jensen and Jensen&Jared.
They're there for each other’s new experiences, failures, successes, and when they need the comfort of a friend.
One time, in particular, is often on Jensen's mind.
There's sweat on the tips of his fingers and palms, wiped over his denim-clad thighs. He lets out a deep breath and tells himself I can do this I can do this I can do this.
He runs a hand over his face, takes another deep breath, and knocks on the front door. He waits. The door is pulled open and he’s met with a grin, and a tornado of energy that sucks him inside.
You okay, Jen?
He’s planned this out and he’s spent weeks agonizing over it and Jared is the first he’s going to tell, and he’s got to do this right, got to--
I’m gay.
Shit. His fingers are trembling and his chest hurts and he can’t do this anymore. He takes a step backwards and he’s surrounded by silence now, knows he’s in the calm of the storm and it’s about to erupt.
He opens his mouth but he can’t make any sound come out, and Jared steps forward with a frown.
Don’t freak out, man. It’s okay. Jen? Jensen? Dude, did you fucking kill somebody? Because if it’s just that then it doesn’t warrant a freakout like this. Have we got to bury a body?
The words slowly start to sink in, and Jensen can’t help it, and he’s shaking, his entire body shaking with laughter and Jared’s staring at him like he’s crazy. His best friend has just asked him whether he needs help burying a body and everything is fucking peachy.
He pulls Jared close for a hug and Jared squeezes him tight, with a few slaps to the back that tell Jensen more than words could.
Telling his family doesn’t go so well. He waits two weeks before high school ends, when irreparable damage won’t have long to sink its teeth into his life and cause more pain than he can handle.
Telling them at all was a mistake.
As soon as the words have left his mouth the house is ablaze, anger like fuel that’s in plentiful supply. His mother blames herself and his father calls him a deviant.
We love you, Jensen. But we can’t love your decision. You have a choice, and I am making myself very clear: you may only stay under this roof if you give up your alternative lifestyle and choose the right path--
He tears out of the house like thunder to prevent adding salt to his wounds.
His feet carry him to a refuge where he’s welcomed by open arms and pulled tight against his protective chest.
It’s okay, Jen. It’s okay. We love you. It’s okay.
He takes a deep breath and nods, not trusting his voice to project his thoughts.
Jensen found a home in Jared that day.
***
They hit Summerland the next day at 11am and it's already vibrant and alive, teenage girls running past with the wind in their hair, air like gritty salt, sun simmering down. It feels like they're constantly chasing the heat, and for a fleeting moment Jensen wishes they were heading to Alaska, North Dakota, Wyoming. Somewhere cooler.
Then Jared is jumping out of the truck, slipping his shirt off and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans like he always does. Jensen watches a trickle of sweat roll down the centre of Jared’s back.
He pulls out his packet of cigarettes and jumps out of the truck.
"Where to, Sasquatch?" Jensen asks around the cigarette he's trying to light.
"Anywhere, everywhere."
It's a typical Jared-answer, and Jensen takes a moment to enjoy the first drag, smoke slipping out from between his lips, before replying.
"Where to first, then?"
Jared runs his fingers through his hair and stares over at Jensen, studies him, and Jensen feels like an ant beneath a giant magnifying glass. He slips a finger beneath the collar of his shirt and tugs.
"I think we should go and see the sea," Jared says. "Get an ice cream in a little cafe. Get a postcard to send back home."
Home. Texas. It's strange how Jensen doesn't think of those two words as the same thing anymore. How he associates home with something different, now.
“Lead the way.”
They walk towards the direction of the ocean, stopping on the way to buy ice creams to eat in the sticky heat.
Jared’s tongue curls around his blue ice cream and he grins in the sunshine, ice cream smeared across his lips.
“Sunny California!” he declares, raising his ice cream high above his head.
“Dude, it’s dripping in your hair,” Jensen says, and Jared groans as he brings the melting ice cream to his lips and licks the blue trail that’s dripping down his hand.
Jensen laughs at him and they walk across the busy sidewalk down to the sandy beach. The wide, blue surf is spread in front of them and Jensen breathes for a moment to take in the sight.
“Summer Days by Bob Dylan,” Jared says, a soft smile on his face as he studies the scene in front of them. “Standing on a beach with my best friend and ice cream in my hair. Definitely Bob Dylan.”
Jensen wants to say, Here I Love You. He wants to quote My Love is Building A Building.
“Sonnet Nine by Pablo Neruda,” Jensen says instead, settling for something safe. “No question.”
They look at each other and share a smile.
Without saying anything they both walk towards the ocean, stopping once they’re at the water’s edge.
Jensen stares at the way Jared’s hair whips around his face, the salty sea air causing it to tangle, and the way he chucks his head back and laughs as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Jensen watches him and he smiles.
“I’m happy,” Jared says, turning to Jensen. “Happy to be on this roadtrip with you, Jen.”
Jensen grins. “I’m happy, too.”
Jensen leans down and traces a J in the wet sand, and Jared kneels down next to him, drawing his own.
They step back and admire their mark, both of them with wet, sandy patches on their knees.
The water gently laps at the letters until it washes them completely away.
***
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