SOS Red- Chapter Eight

[wastetheyears]

Jared gets his own phone a couple weeks into his house arrest. He sends Jensen a few idle texts, mostly about how bored he is or whatever ridiculous issues Dr. Phil is tackling on his show that afternoon. It’s never anything too deep, and while Jensen responds, most of what he initiates comes in the form of photos of Sadie. He’s still trying to hang back a bit, so he lets Jared’s set the pace, trying not to seem like the texts he receives are the highlight of his day.

On Sunday, Jared calls him for the first time. Jensen is so surprised he nearly drops the phone down the drain of the kitchen sink.

“Hello?”

“Jensen, hey!” Jared greets, voice upbeat. It has been about four days since Jensen has last stopped over, and he instantly feels a surge of shame for avoiding him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jensen asks, trying to sound casual.

“Not a lot,” Jared says. “I have something to ask you. A favor.”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“So my mom has an appointment Tuesday afternoon she can’t get out of,” Jared starts, shuffling with something on the other end of the line. “It’s an hour away, so she’ll be gone awhile. And Meg has class. And with this house arrest thing, I can’t be here alone.” It’s a stipulation of Jared staying at home during this period, that he must have someone with him at all times. A chaperone, Sherrie termed it. She has been working from home the last couple of weeks to stay with her son and Megan has been stepping in whenever she needs to leave for a bit.

“Anyway, is there any chance you’d be available to babysit for a few hours?” Jared asks, an edge of humor cut with barely noticeable nervousness. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“I don’t know, man, you know I’m no good with kids,” Jensen smirks, bending to scritch at Sadie’s fur as she brushes past his legs.

“If it helps, the child in question is twenty-six,” Jared counters, amusement evident in his tone. “Twenty-nine?” he asks, trying the age on for size, before seemingly deciding, “Twenty-six.”

“I suppose I could be swayed with the proper compensation.”

“If you bring food, I’ll help make it?” Jared offers, a hopeful tilt at the end of the question.

“In your Easy Bake Oven?” Jensen jokes, playing off the earlier child comment.

“I was thinking more in my Easy Bake Grill, but I’m open to suggestions.”

At Jared’s laugh, Jensen grins. “I’m not familiar with that model.”

“It’s new. Gotta start ‘em young,” Jared shoots back, voice light. “So is that a yes, then?”

Jensen chews at his lip, covering a smile. “I supposed I can pencil you in. What time should I be over?”

“Two o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Awesome, thanks Jen,” Jared says, gratitude in his tone.

“No problem,” Jensen dismisses, slightly in a daze as Jared says goodbye. As he lowers the phone from his ear, all he can focus on is how the call was the most them they’ve been in months. And the first time Jared has called him Jen in ages.

____

Jensen takes off work early on Tuesday and drives over to the Padalecki household. Sherrie is waiting for him near the door, purse in hand, and he nervously checks his watch to check the time.

“You aren’t late, hon, just in a rush,” she ensures, halfway out the door. “Call me if there are any problems?”

“Will do,” Jensen agrees, watching as Jared gives him a small wave as he beckons Sadie towards the back door, letting her out.

“I figured we’d hang outside, since it’s so nice?” he poses, wiping the palms of his hands on the legs of his shorts as he glances up at him.

“Yeah, sure,” Jensen nods, making his way into the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute; I’ve just gotta put the food in the fridge.” He holds up the plastic grocery bag in hand to punctuate his point, earning a grin from Jared as he slips out the sliding door to the deck.

Jensen busies himself with finding a place for the meat, separating the bag from the corn on the cob and beers he brought over. He has tried not to put too many expectations on today, but it’s the first time he and Jared have been alone together since everything went down and it feels important. Jensen even talked it through with his therapist, who emphasized the importance of living in the moment and not placing too much pressure on the situation, but it’s not that Jensen even wants anything crazy to happen. He just wants to talk, to connect, to maybe start to rebuild some of that relationship between the two of them, even if it’s just as a friendship to start.

Jensen is still lost in those daydreams, idly checking the kitchen cabinets for the supplies they will need to grill, when Jared comes bursting through the front door.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jared curses, ambling into the kitchen with Sadie laced in his steps, a blaring beeping noise encompassing both.

“Jared, what are you-” Jensen starts, cutting himself off as he realizes Jared’s right ankle is the source of the beeping, the ankle bracelet flashing angry red lights in time with the shrill noise. The house arrest. Jared is on house arrest and he’s set off his tracking bracelet.

“Fuck,” Jared shouts, digging his fingers into his hair as he paces dining room. “I can’t go back. Fuck, I can’t go back there. Fuck…”

“Jared,” Jensen interrupts, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “Hey. Hey, what happened?”

Before Jared can answer, the kitchen phone is ringing and he’s across the room, grabbing for the receiver, hand so shaky he nearly drops it.

“Hello?” Jared answers, pausing before saying, “Yes, this is he. I’m. I’m Jared Padalecki, yes.” Abruptly, the ankle bracelet stops its shrieking, though Jensen’s ears still ring with its echoes.

Another pause before Jared goes off, the words spilling out of him in a slew of anxiety. “Yes, I know. I’m so sorry. My dog. The lawn people came earlier and they must’ve left the gate open and my dog, she got out and we live right by Harrison and it’s such a busy street. She was running right towards it and I thought. I mean, she would have gotten hit and I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I’m sorry.”

Jensen’s heart twists in his chest as he listens to him recount why he left the designated area for his house arrest, tears streaming down Jared’s face. He’s clearly terrified, shaking by the time Jensen steps behind him and places what he hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder. Jared leans back into it instantly.

“I understand. I am so sorry. As soon as I got her, I ran right back,” Jared answers the man on the phone, and Jensen listens carefully to hear his response. Jared brings his hand up to lace his fingers with Jensen’s at his shoulder and Jensen gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Your house arrest is a bit different from the typical confinement, but it is nothing to take lightly,” the man says sternly, and Jared clenches his fingers tighter. “That being said, in your situation, we also take into account how you are responding to situations, emotional intelligence, all of that. And, considering, I think rescuing the dog is a far less concerning choice than choosing not to.”

For his part, Jensen agrees. He isn’t sure if the man he turned in all those months ago would stop him from being hit by a car, much less Sadie. If anything, Jared breaking his house arrest for this should be a positive sign in his recovery, not something requiring to punishment.

“Because this is the first incident of any kind in your file, I think we can mark this down as warning and move on,” the man continues. Jared nearly collapses back against Jensen at the news, causing him to let go of Jared’s hand and wrap both arms around waist to steady him.

“However, any additional incidents-”

“There won’t be,” Jared assures. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Gary.”

“Yes,” Gary dismisses, keeping his tone cool and professional. “Who do you have with you today, Jared?”

“Jensen,” Jared supplies. “Jensen Ackles.”

There’s a pause and a shuffle of paper, seemingly as Gary checks his list. “May I speak with him?”

“Sure.” Jared holds the phone back to Jensen, who cranes his neck to meet it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Ackles,” Gary greets. “My name is Gary Smith. I work security at Ridgeway. I assume you’re aware of the incident that just occurred?”

“Yes.”

“I just wanted to advise you that this is the only warning. Any additional incidents will result in detainment,” Gary continues, steely voiced.

“I understand.”

“Okay. I will note his file as a warning and let you resume your day.”

“Thank you,” Jensen says to the dial tone as Gary hangs up, and Jared places the receiver back on the cradle.

“Jesus,” Jared murmurs, slumping forward to rest his head on the wall.

“He’s pretty lenient for a cop,” Jensen comments passively.

“He’s not a cop,” Jared sniffs, scrubbing the back of his hands over his eyes. “Just works security at the facility. If he actually worked at the police department, I’d probably be detained right now,” Jared crumples as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Fuck Jen, I thought-”

“Hey,” Jensen says, stepping forward and gathering him in his arms as Jared pitches against his chest, arms belatedly snaking around Jensen’s torso to claw him into a snug embrace. Jensen holds him all the tighter as Jared begins to cry. He straightens his spine and trying to stand as solid as can, giving Jared somewhere to curl into. He has always been smaller than him, but when Jared needs him, Jensen is determined to be as strong as he needs him to be.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing his palm over Jared’s back. “You’re not going anywhere. It’s alright.”

“When it went off, I thought I was going back there. I thought everything I worked so hard for was just gone,” Jared whispers, his face buried in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“It’s not,” he assures. “Even if you had to go back for a while, you’ve come so far, Jared. It’s never going to be for nothing.”

“I can’t go back.” He sounds terrified. He sounds haunted.

Jensen swallows around a lump in his throat, guilt spidering through his chest. “Jared, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For sending you there,” Jensen says, miserable, as if it’s obvious. It should be.

Jared pulls back, furrowing his brow. “Jensen, we talked about this.”

“I know, I just-”

“I meant it when I said you save my life,” Jared says, keeping eye contact as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. “You did. Turning me in absolutely saved my life. Just you being there saved my life.”

Jensen quirks an eyebrow at that, taking a seat across the table from Jared.

“I was hearing voices,” Jared divulges after a moment, pitched so quietly Jensen can barely hear it. “Voices to hurt people. To kill people. I thought I had it under control, but it just kept getting louder and louder and it got to the point where I wasn’t in control anymore. I just knew I couldn’t get tested because I knew I had it and I didn’t want to know what they’d do to me.

“I I thought then, maybe. Maybe if I run, it will get better. Get away, get somewhere else where I can deal with it. Maybe that will help, you know? I just. All I knew was you were the only thing keeping me sane. I knew as long as you were there, that was one person I would never hurt. There was no way in hell I was going to hurt you. Towards the end, I thought if I ended up burning the world and leaving you alive, that seemed like a victory, to have that bit of control, you know?”

Jensen doesn’t, not exactly, but the thought doesn’t feel as foreign as it should. “You wanted to leave me,” he points out, the least of all important things he could bring up right now.

“I said I did,” Jared acknowledges, the shake of his head almost imperceptible. “I had moments of reason. I knew I was dangerous, but I was too selfish to care. I knew when you were telling me… god, Jensen, when you were telling me about the wreck. I knew I should feel something, but I just. I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I can’t even… I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been and I just. I acted like it didn’t even matter,” Jared says, disgust heavy in his voice.

“That’s how I knew,” Jensen smiles, a twisted little thing that barely turns at the corners. “That’s how I knew it wasn’t you.”

“I figured,” Jared nods, licking his lips. “I mean, I hoped. I hoped you knew I would never-”

“I did,” Jensen assures, giving him a small smile, true this time. “I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared offers, so genuine Jensen has to blink back the threat of tears. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. Everything I did.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Jensen,” Jared says sternly, waiting until he looks at him to repeat, “I’m sorry.”

Jensen takes a moment, breathing against any urges to continue his previous line of thought about how Jared has nothing to apologize for. It doesn’t matter if Jensen thinks Jared should apologize or not; it matters that Jared thinks he has to. And if Jared thinks he needs to be forgiven for something, Jensen is the last person who will deny him of that peace.

“I forgive you.” It goes against Jensen’s every instinct to say it, the words a foregone conclusion, but watching the tension melt from Jared, relief washing over his body, Jensen will say it a thousand times if he needs to.

_____

They spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening making light but pleasant talk, situated on the deck as Sadie slings herself happily around the backyard, racing from end to end. When she wears out, she settles around Jared’s feet as Jensen puts the steaks on the grill, the sizzle fading into the sound of the cicadas whirring in the distance.

“Do we want garlic bread?” Jared asks absently as he peeks in the other bag Jensen brought, shuffling through the contents.

Jensen gives him a deadpan stare. “Is that even a question?”

“You’re right,” Jared grins easily, turning to jog back into the house. Jensen watches the flex of his calves as they make easy work of the steps and forces himself to turn away, swallowing hard.

Jared returns cradling an armful of items and spreads them out on the table, beginning to prepare the garlic bread as he shoots a look over to where Jensen stands, a few steps from the heat of the grill.

“My mom just texted,” he announces. “She’ll be here in about an hour.”

Jensen groans. “Great. Looking forward to telling her how I almost let her son get arrested five minutes after she left.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “You didn’t let me do shit.”

“Yeah, well, the babysitter always gets blamed for everything,” Jensen counters, earning a poorly-hidden smirk.

“Tough gig.”

“Yeah, and I have to make dinner,” Jensen exaggerates, just to rile him up. It works.

“Oh, okay,” Jared sasses, stabbing a butter knife into the air, indignant. “Because I’m clearly doing nothing.”

“Manning the grill is tough work,” Jensen teases, gesturing at the steaks.

“Well, I’m making garlic bread and I’ll do the corn and if you’re lucky and I might even let you have some.” Jared shoots him a put upon glare, shaking the garlic powder with particular vigor.

“You do make some pretty bomb garlic bread,” Jensen concedes. He hasn’t had it in years.

Jared smiles despite himself. “Damn straight I do.”

_____

When Jensen leaves, Sherrie walks him out to his car, asking how the day went. She catches his nervous laughter and listens while he anxiously explains how Jared almost got detained under his supervision.

“That could have happened any time,” she reassures as he loads Sadie into the back of his Jeep, ensuring she’s fully in before closing the door.

“It didn’t, though,” Jensen murmurs, earning a brisk head shake from Jared’s mother.

“I’ve told those lawn guys multiple times to secure that gate.”

Jensen nods, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. “I, uh. I have something to ask you. I know this is super short notice and, considering what happened, you might laugh in my face, but. You were saying you wanted to visit your sister in San Antonio but couldn’t make it out there with Jared and everything. Anyway you’d be interested in swinging a visit this weekend?”

“You want to stay here this weekend?” Sherrie asks, face devoid of any judgment, which was half of Jensen’s concern after what happened this afternoon.

“If I can, yeah. It’s our anniversary,” Jensen explains, eyes shyly drifting to the ground. He has been contemplating for days whether this is a good idea, knowing he could very well set this all up and Jared would be uncomfortable with it. Today has gone great, though, nearly like old times, and Jensen can’t think of a better way to wage his bet, to show Jared that he’s all in.

“I can ask Cathy,” Sherrie nods, smiling. “I’d imagine she’ll be free, but I’ll check.”

“Thanks. I was thinking of surprising him. Do you… do you think it’s a dumb idea? All of this?” Jensen asks, apprehension dampening his excitement. This could very well backfire on him.

“Honey, I haven’t seen Jared this happy in months,” she smiles, gesturing behind her towards the house. “I think it’s just what you two need.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asks, voice hopeful. “Me too.”

_____

“Shit,” Jensen curses under his breath, nearly fumbling the bundle of freshly prepped garlic bread off the counter as he hears a car pull into the driveway outside of the Padalecki home. He hurries and creases the last folds of the tinfoil together, placing it inside the oven and glancing around the kitchen. Grabbing a few loose pieces of trash, he shoves them into the trash can, brushing crumbs into his hand from the granite.

Heart pounding, he goes stock still as he hears the front door opening, listening to the jingle of Sadie’s collar as she mobs Jared in the living room.

“What?” he hears Jared question, stepping into the house and closing the door softly behind him. “What are you doing here?”

Still unmoving, Jensen leans against the countertop, ears tuned into the sound of Jared scruffing Sadie’s fur.

“Jensen?” he asks, unsure like he isn’t positive he’s here but the evidence seems to point to that conclusion.

“Yeah, hey,” Jensen says at last, going for casual as Jared steps into the threshold of the kitchen, taking in the slight chaos of the mixing bowls, pots, and pans with a confused look on his face.

“What are you,” he starts, stopping mid-thought to sniff the air. “Are you cooking?”

“Yep.”

“Why?” Jared asks. “Not that I’m glad you’re here, but…”

“It’s our anniversary,” Jensen replies, offering Jared a nervous smile as realization dawns across his face. “I wanted to do something nice.”

Jared looks taken aback, his face hard to read. “I, wow. That’s…” he trails off.

Jensen’s plastered smile turns uncomfortable, dread growing in his gut. “Jared, I’m sorry if this is out of line-”

“No,” Jared rushes, shaking his head. “No, it’s great, I just wasn’t expecting… was my mom in on this? Did you two, like, conspire?”

“Your mom helped, yes,” Jensen concedes, chuckling. “It was her idea to do it when you were at your testing appointment. How did that go, by the way?”

“Good, good,” Jared says distractedly. “So, wait. Did you like bribe her to leave for a couple hours or is she joining us?” He cranes his neck to try to see out the front bay window of the house, apparently just now realizing Sherrie drove off.

“Didn’t bribe her, but she did head to San Antonio for the weekend,” Jensen says, focus dropping to the dish cloth wringing nervously in his hands. When he raises his eyes, Jared is staring at him, jaw slightly agape.

“For the weekend?”

“If you want, Meg can come over,” Jensen rushes to offer an alternative to the two of them spending the next two days alone.

“It’s cool, I just,” Jared trails off, eyeing the table settings Jensen has placed before drifting back to the stove. “You really put a lot into this.” The words are quiet, almost said in wonder, and Jensen turns back to the stove, removing a now-done pot of pasta from the burner.

“Can’t cheap out on you for our anniversary.”

“I did,” Jared jokes, though there’s an undercurrent of something else.

Jensen smirks, flicking a pointed glace to Jared’s ankle bracelet. “You’re kind of limited these days.”

“I knew it was our anniversary, though,” he murmurs, absently rubbing his thumb over the corner of the doorway. “I just didn’t know if you’d want to hang out so soon after the other day.”

“I always want to hang out.”

“You were kind of laying low for a few days there,” Jared says, not meeting Jensen’s eyes when he turns to look at him.

“Jared,” he begins, unsure of where he’s going but sure he needs to get this idea out of Jared’s head immediately. “I never didn’t want to hang out. I just thought it might be too much, you know? Coming over too much. So I tried to back off for a couple of days.”

Jared stares at him. “You coming over too much isn’t a thing.”

“It felt kind of felt like it,” Jensen says, squinting slightly at the memory as questions his recollection. “It just felt… off.”

Jared is quiet for a moment before answering. “I know I’ve been a little off lately. I just don’t really know… it’s just been hard to figure out where I fit in, you know?” He pauses for another moment, clearing his throat before continuing, “And you. I still can’t wrap my head around how you’d want anything to do with me sometimes.”

There are a million things Jensen can say, words painted into beautiful arrangements that tell Jared how much Jensen loves him, how he could never walk away.

Jensen, in all his infinite eloquence, says, “Me too,” and watches Jared’s face drop. “I mean, I feel the same the way about you,” he stumbles to elaborate. “I feel like I’ve done things to you that you could never forgive me for.”

“Jensen-”

“I know,” Jensen smiles at him softly. “It’s just going to take time, okay? For both of us. Just know that I love you, okay? More than anything. That doesn’t change.”

Even from ten feet away, Jensen can see the glint of tears in Jared’s eyes, can see them through the flood of his own. “I love you too,” Jared says, voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s all Jensen has needed to hear in what feels like forever. “And I never want you to stay away, okay? Not ever.”

Jensen nods, smiling as Jared makes his way over to him and throws his arms around him, swaying the two of them back and forth dramatically. Jensen clings on, his smile breaking into a grin. The hug lasts all of five seconds before the blaring zing of the oven alarm breaks through the air.

Jensen groans, peeling himself from Jared’s arms.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announces unceremoniously as he fumbles through the drawers in search of an oven mitt.

“What’d you make?” Jared asks, leaning back against the counter, craning his neck curiously as Jensen cracks open the oven. “It smells amazing.”

“Your favorite,” Jensen heaves as he pulls the dish out the dish, setting atop the stove before snaking his hand back in to grab the bundle of tinfoiled garlic bread nestled on the oven rack.

“Holy shit,” Jared moans, eyes rolling back dramatically. “Chicken parmesan.”

“I would have made something fancy, but I know it’s your fav-”

Jared interrupts him, cutting him off with a firm kiss. “You’re incredible,” he breathes against his lips. If swooning were an actual thing, Jensen may very well collapse into the casserole dish behind him.

_____

The dinner passes in an eased flow of conversation, the two of them trading words and laughs without any of the previous awkwardness between them. It feels like the invisible dam that has been blocking their connection has broken and everything is sliding into place, roaring back into the corners that have lain dormant for months. Jensen’s cheeks sting from being stretched into a grin the entire meal, and Jared matches his energy. He eagerly devours the food on his plate, finishing his seconds as he reminisces about how nervous he had been to take Jensen out on their first date.

“I was not intimidating,” Jensen maintains, shaking his head as he pushes back in his chair.

“Yes you were!” Jared insists, slapping his palm on the table. “You had your shit together and I showed up to the first date in a shirt with a stain on it and a car that got a flat.”

“Which I fixed,” Jensen adds smugly, taking his empty plate to the garbage can and scraping it clean before rinsing it in the sink.

“Which was hot as fuck, by the way,” Jared says, before shaking his head. “I didn’t know my shirt had a stain on it.”

“I know,” Jensen smirks, popping open the dishwasher. “You told me about eighty times, remember?” He hears the scrape of the chair against the floor as Jared rises, shuffling into the kitchen behind him.

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Jared says, self-deprecating, but lacking the heaviness from their earlier conversation.

Jensen turns to him, grabbing the plate from his hands. “You may have some redeeming qualities.”

Jared is quiet for a moment, standing back as Jensen rinses the pots and pans in the sink and loads them into the dishwasher. “What number is this? For our anniversary?”

Jensen stops, standing for a moment to ponder. “Ten?” he asks, trying the year on for size. “Or seven? How are you figuring your age?” If Jared is figuring his age based on his birth year, he’s twenty-nine. If he’s figuring it based on how long he’s been alive, though, that’s a different answer entirely.

Jared chews on his bottom lip. “Twenty-six, I think,” he answers, before making a face. “But I don’t like the idea of you being older than me.”

“I’ve always been older than you.”

“Yeah by four months,” Jared dismisses. “Three years is a bit different.”

“Are you calling me old?” Jensen asks, the dismay in his voice half-feigned and half-felt.

“Not old,” Jared backpedals, raising his hands at his side in a placating gesture. “Just… you know.”

“Yeah,” he nods, because he does. The uneven ground between them will take some getting used to. “So… seven years?”

“If that’s alright?”

Jensen shrugs. “Fine by me.” Jared flashes him a smile, pushing from where he leans against the refrigerator.

“How can I help?” he asks, gesturing at the mess of the kitchen around them.

“Leftovers?” Jensen throws over his shoulder, scrubbing at the casserole dish in the sink. “And then clear the table, wipe it down? I’ll finish up in here with the dishes and the counters.”

“You got it,” Jared chirps, leaning forward and pecking Jensen on the lips before heading to the cabinet to grab the Tupperware containers. Ducking his head, Jensen can’t hide his grin.

_____

A couple butt slaps and stolen kisses later, the cleaning of the kitchen devolves into Jared shoving Jensen up against the open refrigerator, nearly trapping his arm in the closing door as he mashes their lips together. His hand comes up to frame his face, the other snaking around his hips to pull him closer to him. The rest of his body presses him harder against the fridge and Jensen surges against him, years of pent up heat bursting from his body in frenzied grasps.

“Jen,” Jared murmurs against his lips, causing Jensen to shiver when his fingers slip along the inside of his shirt, skimming the skin of his lower back.

“Stop manhandling me,” Jensen complains as Jared spins them, propping him against the counter and lifting him like it’s nothing. Jensen lets out a surprised squawk as he slides into a sitting position, his legs bracketing Jared’s hips.

“You love it,” Jared chuckles, kissing a stripe up Jensen’s neck before stalling at his pulse point, swiping his tongue there before sucking another kiss to the skin.

Jensen presses gently at his chest, putting a weak show of pushing him away. “You going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me upstairs?”

He’s teasing, taking a jab at Jared’s caveman nature, but Jared freezes, pulling away just enough for Jensen to see the glint in his eyes. “Maybe.”

Jensen scoffs. “A trip to the ER might throw a wrench in our plans.”

“Yeah, Jen?” Jared prompts, voice low as his eyes trail to his lips. “What plans?”

“Well,” Jensen starts, hooking his fingers in Jared’s belt loops and pulling him closer. “I was thinking of taking you upstairs.”

“That’s a good start.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Jensen agrees, smug as he asks, “anyone ever fuck you in your childhood bedroom?”

Jared lets out a sound at that, a low-pitched whine, so quiet it’s nearly imperceptible. “You know no one has.”

“Maybe we could change that,” Jensen whispers in Jared’s ear, gasping as Jared grabs him by the hips and yanks him off the counter to his feet, sending both of them stumbling before he corrects their balance.

“Come on,” Jared says, pulling him by the hand towards the living room.

“Hey,” Jensen protests, digging in his heels. “We aren’t done with the kitchen.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You left the butter out,” Jensen points out, the container of Country Crock sitting atop the otherwise empty table.

Rolling his eyes, Jared drops his hand to stomp over to the table, snatching the butter and holding it above his head as he makes his way to the fridge, flinging it in and quickly shutting the door. Jensen grimaces at the crashing noise, the grimace morphing into a smile as Jared approaches, once again tangling their fingers and guiding him toward the stairs.

They’re a tangled mess by the time they make it to the bedroom, tripping over each other as their legs keep twining together. Hands all over each other, Jensen wins the fight for control as he pushes Jared flat on the bed, barely avoiding Jensen’s duffle bag he placed their earlier.

“Settling in?” Jared grins, looking up at him from where Jensen straddles his waist, weight settling over his hips.

“Yep,” Jensen breathes distractedly, unzipping the bag and rummaging through it before finding what he’s looking for, retrieving a small plastic bottle.

A broad smile breaks across Jared’s face. “Pretty presumptuous there, Ackles.”

Jensen shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up. Jared doesn’t seem to mind in any case, grabbing for Jensen’s shirt and wrestling it over his head. Jensen makes a move for Jared’s as he tries to make to unbutton Jensen’s jeans and they end up smacking each other, their arms tangled.

“Me first,” Jensen grumbles, yanking off Jared’s shirt and then going for his pants button , only to get his hand swatted away as Jared grasps at his.

“I feel like this is really aggressive right now,” Jensen sighs as Jared heaves him on his side, clawing at his skinny jeans to worm them down his legs.

“I think we’re out of practice,” Jared sighs, frustrated as he tries to free Jensen’s foot from its denim-crumpled prison.

“Porn just makes it look easy,” Jensen dismisses before gesturing at Jared’s pants. “Do it yourself.” Jared snorts, stripping until he’s completely nude as Jensen does the same, meeting his long, dragging stare with one of his own.

“I’m never going to get over that,” he says softly, fingers tracing over the tattoo on Jensen’s chest.

“Good,” Jensen jokes, placing a firm hand flat on Jared’s sternum and shoving him backwards until he’s flat on his back against the pillows. “Gotta have something to hold over your head when I don’t want to do dishes.”

“You have a sickness,” Jared grins, grabbing the bottle of lube and shoving it at Jensen. He holds the bottle for a moment, turning it over in his hand.

“You’re sure?” he asks, suddenly aware of how everything has gone from zero to sixty. A week ago they were barely able to connect and now they’re here, acting like old times. It’s all Jensen has wanted, to be together again, but the last thing he wants is for this to complicate things, for it to be something Jared regrets.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jared says patiently, nudging at his wrist with his splayed knee. It’s all the invitation Jensen needs.

He takes his time, making sure he’s absolutely ready, not pulling away until Jared is begging for him to get on with it. They have all the time in the world, Jensen thinks, as he enters, sliding inch by inch and pulling breathy little sounds out of Jared, his hands wrapped around Jensen’s biceps. Leaned forward, their foreheads nearly touch, Jensen’s hovering just above Jared’s. His entire body is vibrating, his nerve endings erupting into a chaotic symphony with every movement. With every maneuver, his cells slot into place, like they’ve been wandering lost for years waiting for this moment. Nothing ever seemed right without Jared and this is the ultimate expression of them being together, the ultimate assurance that Jared loves him.

You could say it’s just sex, but it’s not, not really. It never was, with Jared. It’s his hands, cradling and sliding and grasping onto Jensen like the world will fall apart if he ever lets go. It’s the things said under his breath, the little assurances. The pretty curses, the “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” the “you’re so goddamn perfect, Jen,” the sex-soaked endearments that can’t ever come as sweet as they do over breakfast or sitcoms. It’s his eyes locking to Jensen’s and holding him like a vice, like the world could stop and they’d still be there, lost in each other without ever having to say a word. Jensen’s sexual history was short before Jared, and there was a reason it was non-existent after him.

“Jay,” Jensen breathes, cutting a moan into the crook of Jared’s neck as Jared wraps his arms around Jensen’s chest and sets his own pace, grinding up hard from beneath him. His legs are snaked around his waist, so long they could twine around twice, and Jensen’s knees slip on the mattress as he tries to match his pace, growing frantic now.

“Fuck,” Jared groans, rolling his face into Jensen’s jaw to urge him back so they can look at each other, noses nearly touching. They’re both close now, barely holding on, their bodies moving at their own accord.

“Fuck, Jen, I’m gonna-” Jared bites out before toppling over the edge, his body breaking into convulsions as Jensen follows seconds later. He collapses on Jared’s chest, his muscles spasming as he shakes, riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He returns fully to himself several seconds later, the edges of his awareness still dopamine-fuzzy as he snuggles into Jared’s arms, tucked tightly in their grasp.

“Shit,” Jared croaks, sounding fucked out and Jensen rasps out a laugh.

“Yeah.” Realizing he must be crushing Jared, he reluctantly rolls off, settling heavy at his side, Jared’s arm still plastered to his back. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, catching their breath.

“Still think we’re out of practice?” Jensen asks finally, earning a surprised cackle in return.

“Nah,” Jared concedes. “I think we did alright.”

“Just alright, huh?” Jensen jokes. “Well, fine. Noted.” Jared breaths a laugh, turning his chin to rest on his head.

“I missed you,” he says simply, seemingly a non sequitur, but Jensen feels its placement in the conversation in his bones.

“I missed you too.”

_____

The rest of the weekend flies by, a blur of bliss that has Jensen feeling like he’s floating on a cloud. The feeling is so foreign, but so familiar, a distant memory of what life could be coming true, and by the time Sunday afternoon comes around, they both feel Sherrie’s return like a heavy weight.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Jared whispers, wrapped around Jensen in bed after they get the text that Sherrie will be back in an hour. It’s the end to their time together that they’ve been pretending isn’t coming, the harbinger to the reality that after this Jensen goes back home and Jared stays here.

“Me too,” Jensen says, running his fingertips over the skin on Jared’s biceps, stalling at the moles and freckles as he traces invisible constellations.

“I get off house arrest in a week,” Jared offers, optimism in his tone. “Less than, actually. Friday. I can come visit you.”

“You could come stay with me if you wanted,” Jensen offers tentatively. “You could move back in. After next week, nothing says you have to live here.” He can tell immediately by the way Jared’s body tenses that he isn’t going to get the response he wants and can feel his heart begin to crack again at the seams this weekend has begun to heal.

“Jen,” Jared says softly. “I want to. I do. I just think maybe we should wait.”

“Oh.”

“Just for a couple of months, while we settle back into things. I just don’t want to rush things.”

“Yeah, no,” Jensen swallows, trying to keep his voice even. “That makes sense.”

“And I can come stay with you on the weekends?” Jared asks, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Is that okay?” Jared asks, concern etched across his face. “I can’t wait to move back in with you, Jen. I hope you know that. I just want to make sure we’re doing things right.”

Jensen could say a thousand things to that. He could say how keeping them apart for two more months feels cruel after all they’ve been through, even though he knows Jared doesn’t mean it as such. He could ask how there’s any way to do their exact situation “right”, when he’s pretty sure it’s never been done before. He could ask how them being apart could ever be right.

But, really, he just knows he wants Jared to feel comfortable, and if it takes two more months for Jared to feel comfortable moving in, Jensen will gladly give that to him.

“Yeah,” Jensen says, forcing a smile. “Sounds great.”

Chapter Nine