Big Bang: Begin to Begin Again: Part Four
Jun. 30th, 2016 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)

Jared steers the Impala to Stanton for a trail of caves nicknamed Missouri’s Buried Treasure. Jensen checks the map to keep them on course, even looking further beyond into the state.
“There’s a Devil’s Elbow,” he points out slowly.
“Well, if the Winchesters are going anywhere …”
Jensen doesn’t argue. After a long walk through the underground limestone caverns beneath the Meramec Valley, he directs Jared to continue west on I-44. They get tangled through rugged stretches of road that move in and around the upland part of the Ozark Mountains until eventually coming to a halt at the very spot they were hoping to catch.
“It says ‘Devil’s Elbow comes from a section of the Big Piney River that turns so acutely it caused repeated logjams’.” Jensen makes a noise while staring at the words on his phone screen. “Probably should’ve read that before we came here.”
“You think?”
“Okay, but up ahead is the Elbow Inn.”
“Is that another traffic jam?”
Jensen narrows his eyes. “No, you ass. It’s a biker bar. And I quote ‘with cans of cold beer and lots of bras pinned to the ceiling’.”
“This’ll be worth the whole trip.” Jared grins at him with such satisfaction that Jensen is a bit worried about what’s going on inside Jared’s skull.
“Oh, really?”
“Watching Jensen Ackles hang his bra up in a biker bar? Dreams comin’ true.”
When Jared winks at him, Jensen wishes he had a good old fashioned map in hand to swat Jared in the face. His hand does enough of the trick, even when Jared tries biting at his fingers.

They stop in Carthage for a slow roll through the classically idyllic downtown that could be home to any number of 50s and 60s sitcoms, and Jared suggests hanging their hat for the night at the Boots Motel. Neither of them blink at the art deco inspired by the late 1940s when it was built.
“Looks about that old,” Jared mumbles as they get out of the Impala.
Once Jensen’s got the passenger side door closed, he rubs his palm across the side of it. “You think she’s safe here?”
“Aww,” Jared coos.
Jensen tuts with a “Shut up” under his breath.
Now Jared drags his fingers over the hood of the car while taunting Jensen. “Mom is so sweet when she worries about you.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Would love to.”
In the lobby, Jensen slows down at the rack of tourist fliers in the lobby while Jared gets them a room. He settles on a few to ponder over dinner when Jared leans against his side to check out the spread.
“Anything good?”
“Drive-in?” Jensen offers while waving the glossy half-sheet.
Jared smirks at him. “You’re so adorable.”
He ignores Jared’s plucky attitude. “Opens at eight, movie’s just after nine. Plenty of time to stuff you full of popcorn.”
“You know the way to a man’s heart.”
It works, for both of them. They fill up on fresh buttery popcorn while stretching out on the hood of the Impala. Leaning back on the windshield isn’t terribly comfortable, but they use extra t-shirts for pillows and watch the sun switch from a merry blue to a golden orange with the sun setting off to the side.
Jensen glances over and sees himself reflected in Jared’s shades. He’s unsure if Jared’s eyes are open behind the lenses. Still, he takes the time to watch the light fade on the canvas of Jared’s tanned face.
There’s a chill in the air, but Jensen’s overcome with warmth. Suddenly he murmurs, “Thanks for coming.”
He can see the bulge in Jared’s throat when he swallows, then counts off the seconds until a reply finally comes. “And thanks for havin’ me.”
Compelled to avoid a wandering quiet where his brain won’t sit still, he keeps on talking. “Bein’ here. It’s nice like this, right?”
“Of course.”
“You want a beer or something?”
“You offerin’?”
Jensen snorts. “I think that’s why I asked.” He turns to roll off the hood, but Jared’s arm around his elbow stops him. He’s reeled back into place with Jared tsking him.
“Stop fussin’ around. You’re ruining the moment.” Jared lifts his sunglasses and Jensen is eased by the green hues of Jared’s eyes, glowing in what’s left of the setting sun. “Just stay here for a bit, yeah?”
Jensen slowly nods, his smile coming even later. “Yeah, of course.”
They’re settled in hip to hip as Jensen’s Whatever you want goes unsaid.

Just before leaving Oklahoma for the New Mexico border, they stop for the night. Long hours on the road are weighing on the both of them and the giant Braum’s Milk Bottle stands as the last feature they capture before calling it a day. Back in Oklahoma City, the old corner store boasted little in the ways of location or attraction with one story of simple red brick. Jared made Jensen pose in any number of ways that will make them roll their eyes in a few days: holding the milk bottle up, pretending to crush it between his finger and thumb, and even letting Jared crouch down to get the right angle so it appeared Jensen towered over the thing.
The day was quiet from top to bottom, save a few lively conversations at the 80-foot Blue Whale back in Catoosa. Jensen had dared Jared to walk through the monstrosity and jump into the adjacent pond. Eating at the nearby picnic area had been nice in the warmth of mid-afternoon, but they’d soon fallen into more companionable silence.
Even if Jensen was suddenly dying for noise, which brought them to Rhonda’s Longhorn Bar in Elk City. Jokes flew by without effort at the woman’s name—tying it back to Dean and pink lace, of course—and the southern honor of a longhorn. Still, Jensen recognized it when Jared avoided phone calls and texts, and fell back into a sulky silence.
When Jensen returns to the table, he attempts to gather some real attention and conversation. He sets his beer down on the table loud enough it shakes Jared away from reading his phone. “She can read palms.”
Jared rolls his eyes, not even bothering to look at the busty blonde at the bar who’d tried to finagle them into buying her a drink. Jensen saw through her fluttering eyelashes, but he’d still been entertained enough to listen to her spiel. “No she can't. “
Sliding into the booth, Jensen huffs. “Sure she can. She sat there and read mine.”
“And what's it say?”
“It doesn't say anything. You have to read it, Einstein.”
Rolling his eyes again, Jared pockets his phone to stare at Jensen. “Okay then what'd it read?”
Jensen smirks and readies his beer to drink before announcing, “It read that I'm a terrible romantic yet plagued in the heart.”
“Not like she couldn't tell that by reading your IMDB profile.”
He narrows his eyes and can tell Jared is avoiding eye contact and fiddling with his drink. Jensen sourly twists his lips to the side. “You're grouchy.”
Jared is unimpressed and blasé when he replies, “And you're gullible.”
Jensen spreads his hands out on the table top. “Why're you so grouchy tonight?”
“She wasn't reading your palm. She just wanted to hold your hand.”
Jensen lifts an eyebrow. “Jealous?”
“Of your pea brain? Not hardly.”
“No, of my palm reading.”
Jared takes his time to drink, putting more tension between them. “So you're plagued in the heart? I couldn't tell.”
“Grouchy,” Jensen announces again before finishing off his beer.
“And terrible at being romantic?” he continues, “Definitely.”
“So grouchy. We need another drink. Drink? ‘Yeah, sure Jensen. Thank you very much for keeping me from slitting my wrists because I'm so grouchy’.”
Jared drags a hand over his face and blankly stares at the wall. “I'm not grouchy. I'm just tired.”
Jensen wants to keep ragging on Jared for his foul mood, but he feels something tip to the side with what’s really causing this tension. “Of what?”
“Of being on the road and not sleeping. I miss my bed.”
It hits him in the gut. Being together the last two weeks have been some of the best in Jensen’s recent memories, but Jared is growing tired of it. Of him, maybe. “And the kids.”
“And my kids,” Jared agrees with a nod.
Now his stomach twists and his back hurts, so he has to sit back and put space between him and the facts. “And your wife.”
Jared pauses, signals for the waitress in lieu of answering. He won’t look at Jensen, now distracted by something on the TV above Jensen’s head.
“Alright what's the deal?”
“About?”
Jensen holds his breath yet finds that he has to ask. “About you and Gen, and you being grouchy?”
“It's nothing. Just. Same ol, and all that.”
“It's not the same ol' Jay and Gen I know,” he reasons. Because the couple he watched come together, marry, and start a family were emotionally inseparable. Not even half of those missed calls would go to voicemail. And especially not without an immediate call back or text in apology.
Jared swallows hard enough that Jensen can see the lump in his throat. “Yeah well … that Jay and Gen … they died a few years ago.”
He sits up and forward, finding himself afraid to hear more yet dying for all the answers. Especially after spending the last five days with Jared and not hearing a word of this before. “What?”
“They're gone. Vanished. Buried in the middle of the night. Never to be heard from again.”
“What do you mean they're gone? Since when?”
Jared huffs and shrugs. “Since a long while ago. Since you stopped returning my phone calls or bothering to keep up with us.”
Jensen feels the hit right in his chest and frowns. “So it's my fault?”
“No. C’mon. I'm not saying that.”
Now Jensen huffs and shakes his head. “But you're still saying I'm an asshole.”
“Sometimes,” Jared admits, “yeah. And about this? A little bit.”
“How's that?”
“Because you dropped off the radar and a lot has changed. You didn’t care about sticking around, so what’s the difference now?”
“A lot is different now.” And Jensen feels it deep into his bones. His lungs struggle to take in air because he hates the thought that Jared hasn’t felt them coming back together this last week.
“You wouldn't get it.”
“Try me,” he says with the straightest look he can manage. He wants to know more, wants to help Jared.
Jared fiddles with his empty beer glass and keeps his eyes down low, avoiding Jensen’s intense stare. “We're just. It's not the same. We're not the same. The marriage and the kids and being home. It's not the same. Not like it used to be.”
Jensen knows that far too well. “Back when family was a vacation from home.” Home being the show. And Vancouver. And each other, really.
“Yeah. Kinda like that.”
“I get it.” Jared huffs and Jensen presses on. “I really do. I mean … look at my life. At me and Danneel. I get it.”
He sighs and licks his lips before taking a long drag of beer. “I guess you do.”
“I lived it myself, if you remember,” he jokes, but it falls flat. Flat with Jared, and Jensen himself as he recalls the darker days of isolation and emptiness after his career was over.
“I do,” Jared says quietly. “It wasn't very good.”
“That's putting it kindly.”
Then like a smack across the face, Jared admits, “We're separated.”
He watches Jared and notices that the guy is avoiding Jensen’s eyes keeps trying to catch a glimpse of his reaction. “What?”
After a few false starts where Jared has to clear his throat and turn away, he finally explains, “We're separated, though still living together. Same house and all that. Trying to keep up good appearances for the kids, at least until they’re going off to college or whatever. She's been seeing someone else for a bit and I pretend I don't want to.”
A flash of jealousy cuts deep in his gut followed by confusion because he’s not sure why he cares about Jared being interested in someone. He disappeared from Jared’s life and left him alone. And far longer before then, he’d put the brakes on anything real between them. He doesn’t have any right to be possessive, and yet … “Anyone specific?”
“Not that I'd disclose right now.”
“Fuck, man.” Jensen rubs his face with both hands to get a hold of his emotions, keeps his eyes covered so he doesn’t have to see Jared right now as he battles through a thousand old feelings. “You're supposed to be the smart one here.”
“Why's that?”
“Because you just are. You know.”
“No, I don't.”
He pulls his hands down a little. His eyes feel heavy like he wants to cry, and he hates reliving that particular emotion now. “You're not supposed to make the same mistakes I did.
“I'm trying not to,” Jared insists while leaning over the table, lowering his voice for the privacy that they should’ve had at least five minutes ago when this conversation started. “That's why I'm still there. I mean. The kids. I can't leave them. I wouldn't dare.”
“Already smarter than me.”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Doesn’t matter if you mean it or not,” he says with a sad smile. “Me? I broke Danneel's heart. And JJ's along with it. You don't wreck the marriage without hurting everyone. It's inevitable.”
“I'm trying not to. I’m trying to be enough for them.”
Jensen frowns as he imagines the kind of weight Jared is living under, especially with the breadth of anxiety Jared has faced for a long while.
The waitress finally brings a fresh round and Jensen is thankful for the break. And Jared must be too, because he downs a third of his beer immediately then sucks in a deep breath, releasing it just as loudly. Jensen attempts to lighten the mood with a frustrated smile. “Just avoid carving out her heart with a spoon.”
Jared chuckles at the idea. “A spoon?”
“It's dull. Took longer, hurt more. She’s still trying to heal.”
“But you get along.”
“Just barely,” he admits while trying to find the bright side to how he’s been trying lately.
Jared makes a face. “I mean JJ.”
Jensen shakes his head before drinking. “Yeah, me too.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jared insists, trying to comfort him, but it’s not much.
“Of course it is,” he admits with a sour laugh. “I’m her father, and I broke her mother’s heart then disappeared from her life.”
“You didn’t disappear entirely. You’re still there.”
“Well now I am, sure. But it doesn’t make up for everything.”
“It can help,” Jared suggests, somber and distracted with his beer. When Jensen remains quiet, he looks up and shrugs. “It’s helping here, now, with us.”
Jensen narrows his eyes, watching Jared carefully, trying not to admire the way Jared’s lips wrap around the rim of the beer glass. Or the way his throat works through the swallow. Or even how his eyes are bright and intent on him when he looks to Jensen again. “Is it?”
“Yeah, of course,” he agrees quietly and a little too easily.
“You so sure? I mean, the last few days have kind of lost the luster we had when you first came out here.”
Jared laughs, a bit annoyed, kind of like Sam always did when tired of his brother. “Route 66 has kind of lost its luster.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.” After a moment, he jokes, “You sure it’s not just me?”
“God, you’re selfish.”
Jensen recognizes that Jared’s not amused, that he’s still got a thorn in his side. He considers tearing it out, no matter how messy. This trip has been as much of an escape as it has been a treasure hunt to dig deep for what he really wants. “Whose fault is it?”
Jared blinks a few times before opening his mouth. “Whose fault for what?”
Tearing at the band-aid, Jensen bluntly asks, “For you and Gen?”
With a huff, Jared grabs his beer. “Why’s it got to be someone’s fault?”
“Because I know how you think, and you’re definitely blaming someone for this.” Jensen is sure it’s Jared … Jared blaming himself for whatever did or didn’t happen. Either way, he wants to get to the bottom of this now that it’s on the table.
“Is that what you want to hear?” Jared complains, growing louder as he goes on. “That I fucked up? That my chaotic mind screwed over everything good in my life and that I can’t keep a lid on things long enough to keep my marriage in tact?”
Jensen leans back in his seat, blown away with the anger in Jared’s eyes when he glares over the rim of his glass. “That’s not what I wanted to hear. Not at all.”
“Yeah, don’t be so sure of yourself, Ackles. You’ve always thought too much about what I was doing.”
He flinches at the accusation then rises to the argument by leaning over the table again. “Excuse me?”
“Whatever. This is all dumb. This conversation and this trip. Me, you, all dumb.” Jared’s up to his feet in an instant, throwing money on the table and walking away.

Jared marches into the motel room and tries to slam the door shut before Jensen can get through, but Jensen kicks at the bottom to stop the door from closing on him. Then he tosses the door open even harder so it knocks against the wall, paint and drywall chipping in a messy circle around the knob.
“Just tell me what the hell happened!” Jensen demands. Like he would in the past when he had the right to demand such things. Jared reminds him it’s not like that anymore.
“Just like how you told me what happened to you?”
He takes a calming breath, though it’s not very successful because he still feels his nerves rattling beneath his skin, blood pumping too fast. “I tried, but you didn’t exactly listen.”
“When?” Jared shouts, taking the barb harder than Jensen had intended. “When did you try and when didn’t I listen? I’m always here to listen.”
In anger, Jensen yanks off his jacket and throws it at his bed because he can’t imagine creating more damage in this room. No matter how cheap it’ll be to fix in a flea bag gutter like this, he’s not up for starting trouble just because he and Jared aren’t jiving like he’d thought they were.
“Go ahead, Jensen. Tell me when you so perfectly sat me down to talk about whatever the fuck is wrong with you.”
He growls at Jared’s tone and finally lays it out. “After that trip to Italy. Just before Danneel and I split. I tried to tell you, but it didn’t really work. I called you a few times, you were always busy, I couldn’t even get you to sit down in front of me. That’s when I knew everything was over, for everyone.”
Jared’s nostrils flare with barely controlled rage and he adjusts his stance more defensively. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You knew how to readjust, and you were doing it perfectly. Me? I’m the fucked up one who was buried too deep in the job and what it meant.” Jensen takes a deep breath and looks for something to kick or sweep off a desk, but he just aimlessly turns in either direction, going dizzy with the quick movements. “And being back with our families, trying to readjust, that was impossible. You needed them more than you needed me. While that’s all I needed to have. To stay right with you. How the hell could I tell you all that? ”
“You should’ve told me about that, Jesus.” Jared paces between Jensen and the bathroom, wrestling his hands through his hair and chewing on his lower lip.
Jensen’s nerves twist with the guilt of how he’s felt all these years. For all the maniacal thoughts that ravaged his brain, tore him down to the empty mess he’d been before starting this road trip. “I couldn’t tell you all of it, not really. Not when you were finally good yourself.”
Jared stops in the middle of the room, eyebrows bent far down, and mouth in a flat line. “What? Because I was finally good?”
“With all the shit you’ve been through?” Jensen huffs, at himself, at Jared, at the whole situation. He knows he’s growing selfish in this, hell he realized that a long time ago, but now he finally just wants to get it all out. Wants to be heard and understood. “And I was always there for you. I never backed away when you needed me, I never left you alone. But I couldn’t turn around and dump it on you when I needed it!”
Jared steps closer with a hand on his chest. He shakes his head and his voice goes low and serious. “So this is my fault?”
“No! I’m not saying that!” Jensen insists, but he knows it’s impossible to really describe it all when he’s on the verge of actually doing admitting it. “I just didn’t want to deal with putting all my shit on you and having you get all sick again.”
“So it is my fault.” Jared angrily laughs and steps up close to stare right into Jensen’s eyes. “I’m so sorry my burden was hard for you to manage.”
“Jesus, no,” Jensen whines, “that’s not what I meant. Fuck, man, you’re everything for me. You have been since 2004, and suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t own you anymore. I couldn’t be selfish about it anymore. I mean, you had Gen and Tom and Shep to keep you happy, and you were!”
He glances away with a pert, shitty smile, and Jensen knows he deserves the ultra pissy tone to come next. “But I didn’t have my best friend anymore. I didn’t have you, and maybe that’s me being selfish, but I fucking needed you around, too. I needed you to talk to me and tell me what the hell was going on so I didn’t have to blame myself for whatever was fucking you up.”
Jensen’s blood burns ice cold at the thought of Jared shouldering the blame for Jensen going off the rails. He did it all by his lonesome. That’s what he told Danneel, and exactly why he didn’t fight her when she said she needed to live her own life now after spending a decade tied to him with only one foot in the door the whole time. Why he followed her to Louisiana, let her make the decisions, and just remained a step away to help with whatever JJ wanted to make sure he didn’t give up on her.
Jared, he never intended to give up on him. Never thought much further than burrowing deep into his own emotions and living in a state of ignorance as time flew by. Sunk his head into the sand so he could existing in sepia-toned memories rather than face what was outside the walls of his house.
He suddenly wonders if he’d care as much for this conversation a month ago, before he stepped into his garage to undress Baby and get her on the road again. Get himself moving, too, and find a way to walk again.
Maybe he wouldn’t have, but he’s thankful to be having it now when it means something. When he’s spent a hundred hours with his best friend, reliving their greatest hits, making new memories, and reigniting the fire that blew out soon after the show ended.
Jensen needs Jared to know all of these things yet he doesn’t know how to say it. The words die somewhere before his lips get the chance to say them, so he just lets his hands fall on Jared’s chest. Tired and beaten, he sighs and barely meets Jared’s eyes.
“It was never you.”
“How would I know that?” Jared asks with a shaky voice. “You couldn’t even tell me about it. Couldn’t say it wasn’t me that you were leaving.”
With a few inches of Winchester honesty and bravado, Jensen holds Jared’s face so they are eye to eye. “It was never you that I left. I never wanted anything other than you.”
Jared’s eyes grow red and wet as he continues to stare at Jensen and hold his breath.
“I just couldn’t do it anymore on my own. Fourteen years next to you was easy, and suddenly a year with space between us, even just a few days here and there? It was foreign to me and left a hole in my gut. We weren’t working anymore and I lost all motivation for what else there was in life. Without the show? Without you? What the hell was the point? That’s what it all was. I couldn’t handle it, didn’t know how to talk about it, and you went on with life, with your family, so I couldn’t let me bring you down.”
“You wouldn’t have.” Jared has to clear his throat through the emotion. Wrinkles his nose, which is growing pink along with his cheeks. “You never did.”
Jensen slides his fingers over wayward strands on Jared’s temple, tucks them behind his ear, and manages a smile that hurts just as much as it does to see Jared broken over him. “It didn’t go that way in my head. It was all about what others needed, and you didn’t need me bitching and crying over what I was missing from being Dean, or from being around you all the time. I was home with my family, that’s what I was supposed to need, but it wasn’t right. It was always about what we had going for all those years.”
Before Jensen can catch his breath, Jared's kissing him. Mouth firmly snug against Jensen’s and his hands coming up in the air yet never making it to touch Jensen’s face.
Jensen sucks in a breath, thinks back on all his unearthly dreams of reliving their kiss from eons ago and sinks into it. He grabs hold to Jared’s face and brings him closer, tilts his head and presses his lips tight to Jared's, and allows himself this moment he's been hungry for since they first met.
Just the two of them, no other obligations handing around, no show to keep their priorities straight. Just Jared and Jensen the way they've always wanted to be.
And Jared must feel that, too, because instead of pulling away, he winds his arms around Jensen and opens his lips. His tongue presses against Jensen’s lips, and Jensen calls himself all the dumb names in the book for not bothering to let him in sooner. Immediately, their tongues are tangling wide and deep in each other’s mouths, breathing growing louder and needier the longer they kiss.
His blood boils, skin tingling all over, and his dick takes note of how hard and fervent the kiss is growing. Then Jared presses himself closer and Jensen can feel Jared is having the very same reaction with his dick snugged up to Jensen’s hip like it belongs there. And as Jensen tips his hips forward to get even closer to Jared, he thinks maybe it really does belong right there because his dick is pounding, crying for relief. His mind immediately begs to just rub off on Jared this instant, standing upright and fully clothed, to get the immediate release. Maybe they’ll mess around more once they’ve recovered, maybe they’ll spend the next twenty four hours in bed and learn every square inch of each other.
Or maybe Jensen is stuck in another one of his irrational dreams and needs to step back, take a breath, and straighten himself out. He does just that and stares at Jared, who now appears torn up and flushed all over.
“Jared,” he whispers as a warning or plea. He’s not really sure.
Jared just shakes his head and tilts his head towards him again. “It’s always been this. I’ve always been waiting.”
“Twenty two years,” he mumbles as his head spins over the thought that Jared has exhibited such admirable patience and loyalty to keep that flame going.
Still patient to this day, Jared slowly brings his hand up to cup Jensen’s face. He’s testing the waters, Jensen knows, and he also knows that Jared needs him to take the next step. So Jensen mirrors the touch with his palm against Jared’s scruff, the rough hair tickling and jabbing his skin to ground Jensen in this moment. Then Jensen rubs his thumb down the curve of Jared’s cheekbones and to the corner of his mouth as he takes in all of Jared’s wondrous, waiting eyes.
Jared nudges into Jensen’s hold and kisses the pad of his thumb, and Jensen thinks his heart will explode at the tenderness in Jared’s lips.
“C’mere,” Jensen whispers, drawing Jared in for another kiss. They’re less hurried and rough. Take time to explore each other’s mouths and let soft touches drag over shoulders and arms and back, until Jensen guides them to the nearest bed. He can’t decide if he wants to climb all over Jared or let Jared crawl over him, envelope all of him and hold him safe and warm like that night after the Blues game.
Then he figures if they wade through these waters just right, they’ll have time enough to do it all.
They split the burden and settle on the cheap, scratchy comforter side by side, kissing deep again now that the excitement is back for what they’re running towards. Jared’s hand travels over Jensen’s hip and grabs his ass, tugs him closer, and brings his own leg over Jensen’s knee to bring their hips together.
Jensen slips fingers through Jared’s hair and twists around the locks. He tugs and pulls, careful yet meaningful, directing their kiss as they rock together, and maybe all they’ll get to right now is a lot of over-the-clothes action. And maybe for how juvenile Jensen has dealt with this topic, this all he really deserves right now, or is capable of.
He’s proven wrong when Jared dips his fingers inside he back of Jensen’s jeans, finger tips pressing tight into line of Jensen’s ass. Jared’s fingers are sure and purposeful, surprising Jensen into a round of shivers and stutters, before his pants dampen damp with pre-come. It’s been a long damn time since he’s touched someone else, since his body’s reacted to the warmth of a touch that wasn’t his own, and he thinks he’ll break far too early from the excitement of it all. So he pulls back, holding Jared’s chin, and tries to laugh through the tension that’s crackling inside.
“Jared, wait, hang on,” he pants out. When Jared frowns and slips back, Jensen laughs again and drops a quick kiss of reassurance. “I just want to wait, just a minute, or else it’s gonna be really messy, really quick.”
As it registers for Jared, he smirks and chuckles at Jensen. Even teases his fingers back down Jensen’s crack. Again, Jensen reaches for Jared’s mouth, wants to dive right back into the madness, but he also has enough sense of mind to not let the kisses last long enough to go anywhere past where they already are. Jared catches on and removes his hand from the back of Jensen’s pants, only to bring it to the front with the question written all over his face.
“Oh God,” Jensen sighs with his eyes sliding shut.
Jared nips at his lower lip, whispers, “We’ll do it together. Then the mess, no matter how fast, will be worth it.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Maybe later,” Jared says into another kiss.
And it’s just as Jared has offered, undressing and getting messy together, with his hand wrapped around both of their dicks while Jensen hangs on to Jared’s neck and cries out like he’s hurt. It’s anything but painful as Jared licks his palm time and time again to ease the way, as he tugs quick and fast, as he rubs his thumb over the tip of Jensen’s dick just before they’re done.
As Jensen fights to catch his breath, he logs the mess of their clothes. Wrinkled and pushed aside but still wet with the results of twenty-two years of love and companionship waiting for its time to emerge.
He’s exhausted in the afterglow, lets himself slip deep into it, along with Jared’s arms, and looks forward to waking up.

Part Five