The Things That We Could Be

by firesign10

Summary:

Jensen and Jared used to be together. Then they weren't. Five years have gone by, and Jensen's now reached out to his former lover. From a tentative reunion in a dusty desert diner to an actor's life in Hollywood, Jared and Jensen try to re-sculpt their lives and re-ignite their love.

Notes:

Written as a sequel to Pay Phone. Reading Pay Phone is encouraged, of course, but The Things that We Could Be was written as a stand-alone story as well.

Written for the SPN-J2-BigBang on Livejournal. Thanks to moderator wendy for running this behemoth of a challenge!

So many thanks to my fabulous artist, milly_gal, who loved the story immediately and created several lovely pieces! Her energy and enthusiasm were so terrific, and she was completely wonderful and helpful throughout the process! Thanks for all your effort and time, sweetie!! YAY!!!!!

Many thanks to my two wonderful beta readers, candygramme and tipsy_kitty!!! Appreciate your time and effort so much!

Huge thanks to roxymissrose and etoile_etiolee!! etoile_etiolee kindly gave this a final audience read and provided great support! And roxymissrose patiently read through numerous pages and drafts, as well as providing counsel, encouragement, and perspective! Thanks, you guys!

Chapter 1

Part 1

Jared pulled his dusty truck up in the mostly empty parking lot of Penny's Diner. From the moment he'd exited highway 285 onto Route 3, he'd worried he would miss it. As his truck ate up the miles of desolation and sand, he realized how unfounded his fear had been. The flat sandy land had only been broken by rocks and the occasional faded billboard. When he finally reached the diner, he saw that it, the gas station across the street, and the motel a few yards down the road were clearly the only buildings for miles.

Running his hands through his long hair, Jared sighed and dropped them back onto the steering wheel. He had thought that he'd be out of his truck the moment he arrived, running to see Jensen. Instead, he was still sitting inside it, contemplating how a moment he never expected to see had arrived. Jensen was inside that diner, and they were going to be face-to-face for the first time in six years. They were going to talk, really talk; about themselves, about their past relationship, about the reasons they'd been apart for so long, the issues that lay between them.

About how Jensen had finally, painfully, come to terms with his sexuality, after he'd seen Jared appear on the talk show, Ellen. Jared and Ellen had had a frank discussion about their stories and their sexuality while Jensen, hidden in a alcove of the audience, had watched, and subsequently faced his own, years-long denial.

It had triggered a personal crisis for Jensen, a crisis that caused him to drop everything in L.A. and drive to Texas. He'd gone to his hometown and confronted his parents after years of hiding the truth about himself. Jared knew how deep Jensen's fear had been regarding that potential confrontation, and when Jensen had called him from the desert here, said how he'd finally told them he was gay--well, Jared was pretty impressed that, after so many years, Jensen had actually done it. Jensen told him how surprised he had been to find them unexpectedly accepting and supportive; the anger and hostility he'd feared would rain down on his head never materialized. That monster faced, Jensen scrambled to return to L.A., desperate for a chance to talk to Jared, to clear the air between them, until his truck died and left him stranded in the parched New Mexico desert. Hot, dusty, thirsty, Jensen had walked until he found the oasis that was Penny's Diner.

And the pay phone at the gas station.

Jensen had called Jared and told him how the phone seemed like a sign from above--a sign to call the man he loved and talk. Tell Jared how he truly felt, even after all these years, and about how much regret he still felt over their break-up. Confess how he'd never really been happy since.

Ask Jared if maybe . . . maybe they had a chance to be happy now.

Jared had never stopped loving Jensen, not when they split and not during those long years apart. Oh, he'd dated, he'd slept with a few men and even fewer women, but it was always Jensen who lived in his heart. When his cell phone had rung that day, he'd never expected to hear Jensen's voice--much less what that voice spilled out to him. He'd tried to be cool, tried to guard himself, but finally he was in tears. Yes, he heard himself say, yes, I'll be there as soon as I can. Wait for me, Jensen. Wait right there. I'm coming for you.

He'd grabbed his phone car charger, some toiletries and T-shirts, and he'd jumped in his truck and left. It could have been a monotonous trip, except for the tunes he cranked and the memories that filled his head. The two of them working together back at the start of Supernatural. The attraction, soon proved to be mutual. The trip to North Carolina; three weeks spent at the Outer Banks, gorgeous ocean and beach, even more gorgeous Jensen by his side. Their first time making love. The countless times after that. If "idyllic" had a definition, it was those weeks in the sun, under the stars, in their bed.

The road kept slipping by; California bled into Arizona, then into New Mexico, with Jared only stopping to refuel, caffeinate, and pee. He was tempted to skip recalling the less pleasant memories that also remained in his head, but he gritted his teeth and relived them as well--the increasingly bitter fights, the sullen silences, the sniping. The split--that horrendous day when he watched Jensen leave, knowing it was for good. Lonely nights punctuating busy days, days where he laboriously carved out a career, tentatively made friends, assiduously learned his craft. Brief moments of dating, where he enjoyed the company of this man or that woman, only to look into their eyes and know it wasn't going to work out. They were all nice enough, attractive, they just--they weren't Jensen.

Eventually, Jared had reconciled himself to being alone. He had a small circle of close friends. He even had a couple of fuck-buddies, when the pressure of living life physically untouched grew too great; two people he trusted implicitly, cared for deeply, but knew he'd never love romantically. They knew it too, there were no illusions on either side. They gave of themselves and took the affection he could offer in return, but never asked for more than that transient warmth in his bed and what love he could give. Jared could never see himself being with anyone long-term again, could never reassign that place in his heart that still belonged to Jensen.

Jensen, who was waiting inside that diner, past the aqua and tan facade and those glass doors. Waiting for Jared.

Now a sense of haste struck Jared. Now the reminiscing, the wondering, all of that was shaken off as he flung the truck door open and jumped to the ground. Slamming the door, he ran to the diner entrance, grabbing the glass door and throwing it open as he loped through. His heart felt like it was racing and about to stop all at once as he skidded to a halt on the dingy linoleum floor. His eyes darted everywhere as he sought--oh God, was he still here? Please don't let him have left--

Jensen.

Jensen checked his phone for the umpteenth time. He didn't know if he was hoping or dreading to find a message waiting. I'm en route! Or, maybe--I'm not coming. Which was more difficult to contemplate?

After he'd summoned the last of his courage and called Jared that momentous afternoon, Jensen then found himself . . . waiting. He drank two bottles of water to rehydrate, then had some lunch while sipping a third bottle. The waitress, a middle-aged, bottle blonde with a sweet smile named Rayette, started chatting with him after taking his order, inquiring about his dusty, disheveled appearance. He began to tell her just about his impromptu desert hike, but then he went back to why he was in Texas in the first place, and that lead to telling her that he'd just come out, and that led back to Jared. By the time he was finishing his story along with his last few fries, Rayette was sitting at his booth and wiping mascara and tears away with a paper napkin.

"That is the most star-crossed, beautiful, dang love story I ever heard!" she snuffled. She patted Jensen's arm and blew her nose. "You guys finding your way back to each other after all those years! That's better than half the movies I seen!"

Jensen blushed. He hadn't meant to go on and on quite like that, but it seemed that uncorking his feelings meant he'd also uncorked his words. Well, at least it was just the waitress here in the middle-of-the-desert diner where he'd wound up.

"Now, listen, hon," Rayette said as she stood up. "Your sweetie is gonna be a while getting here from L.A., you know? And I think you're probably ready for a shower and some shut-eye before you see him, so why don't you go on over to the Desert Motel down the road here and get a room? You can clean up and have yourself a good nap, and then come back and wait for him here. How does that sound? I'll call Wayne up at the motel and tell him you're on your way over."

Jensen nodded, feeling the fatigue overtake him, now that his stomach was full. It had been a long hike in the desert sun, and a shower sounded liked heaven. He slid out of the booth, leaving a couple of twenties on the table and shushing Rayette's tsks.

"Thanks, Rayette, that sounds great." God, his feet felt so heavy, and damn, so did his eyelids.

She chuckled. "Lookit you, you're ready to fall asleep on your feet! Get on now, Wayne's gonna be waiting for you!"

The heat hit Jensen full-force as he exited the diner, a hot, dry mass of air that enveloped him immediately. The motel was several yards up the road, and he walked that distance slowly. He pushed in the lobby door and sighed happily to feel the cool tendrils of air conditioning wind around his body.

The lobby was sparsely furnished but clean; a couple of armchairs from the 70's sat next to a scarred coffee table, with vending machines for water and soda leaning against the far wall. A large, bristly cactus towered at one side of the desk counter. Behind the counter stood a tall man with wide shoulders and jug-handle ears. His snap-button brown plaid shirt stretched over a generous belly, and his sparse hair was neatly combed across his leathery scalp. He cracked a wide grin when he saw Jensen, displaying a couple of gold teeth and some serious nicotine stains. His gray eyes were warm, and the grin was genuine.

"Well now, you must be the young man Rayette was sending over! Welcome to the Desert Motel, your oasis in New Mexico!" He looked Jensen over and shook his head. "You sure do look tuckered out! Here's a key to room 8. It's right up that hallway. You go right on in and have yourself a good snooze, young man!"

Jensen couldn't help smiling at the man's good nature. "Thank you, that's just what I'm going to do."

"You got it, son. Now you go on there and take a load off!"

Jensen walked down on the hallway's faded floral carpet and found his room. He entered and immediately felt like he was back on the set of Supernatural. They had had room after room of kitschy decor, the set decorators constantly in an unspoken contest for "cheesiest motel room". This room would have been a contender, boasting a palette of faded southwestern colors--beige, terra cotta, turquoise, and white--in an angular print used for both bedding and curtains, with a turquoise rug spread on the floor. Jensen shook his head and chuckled. It felt downright homey.

The bed was comfortable, and that was the main thing. Jensen debated a shower--God knew he felt dusty and disgusting enough--but fatigue won out and he collapsed onto the coverlet. The mattress felt like a cloud beneath his tired body, and the pillow smelled of sunshine. Jensen felt every bit of tension drain out of him, and within seconds, he was fast asleep.

It was dark when he woke up; it felt like hours had passed, and his mind was disoriented and groggy. He shuffled into the bathroom and discarded all of his sweaty, smelly clothing, dropping it on the terra cotta tile floor with a shudder. He started the water and let it heat up as he pissed before stepping into the shower with a groan of pleasure. It felt like mud was sluicing off his skin, the layer of dust and grit was so thick. He lathered up his hair and his body twice before he felt truly clean, and he could feel the grit on the bottom of the tub beneath his feet. His clean clothes felt like silk as he pulled them on.

Jensen didn't particularly want to walk outside after achieving his current state of comfortable cleanliness, but there was no wind, and the temperature wasn't set on "fry" anymore. He waved to Wayne as he went outside, strolling back to Bonnie's for some dinner. He had thought the diner would be dry, but happily discovered that they had a license for beer and wine, so he was able to enjoy an ice-cold beer with his steak fajitas.

Now he was feeling good; rested, clean, fed, most of a cold one in his belly. Rayette was gone, so he wondered if his dinner waitress was in fact Penny. He caught a glimpse of her name tag and sure enough, it was. Penny looked like a throw-back to the fifties in her aqua cotton dress, starched white apron, and little paper frill pinned into her bunned strawberry-blonde hair. She was every bit as friendly to Jensen as Rayette had been, and he wondered if Rayette had tipped her off about him. As he continued to sip his beer, she came back over to him with his check.

"No hurry, hon," she said as she collected his dishes in a gray plastic bin and stashed it at the counter. "Slow night. Aren't they all, ya know?" She winked at him. "I heard about all about you from Rayette. Your boyfriend's on his way here from L.A., yeah?"

Jensen felt a thrill at hearing Jared referred to as his "boyfriend" out loud, followed by a chill that ran down his spine. What if someone tipped some sleazy pap or gossip rag about it? Headlines like "Jensen Ackles - GAY!" swam before his eyes. His chest got tight and his vision blurred momentarily. His hand clenched on the edge of the table.

"Hey, hey, you okay there, sweetcheeks?" Penny's face came into focus. She looked very concerned as she handed him a cold, wet dishtowel. "Is it the heat? It hits people pretty hard sometimes, if you ain't used to it. Here you go, put that on your face and neck. You had a big walk there yesterday, you still might have a touch of heatstroke."

"Thanks . . . it's not the heat. I just . . . we haven't . . ."

Penny nodded sagely. "Y'all aren't all the way out? Well, don't you worry about that, sugar. Ain't no one here to even notice some actor from TV and his Hollywood boyfriend."

Jensen looked up at her, surprised. She nodded again, patting his arm.

"Well, sure I know who you are. I love your show. You barely crack a smile and you're the funniest one on it, but you got those still waters going on too. When they have you talk about your poor departed wife? I tear up every time." She patted his arm and motioned for him to put the dishtowel around the back of his neck. "That's right, just drape it across your nape and that will cool you right down. Now don't you worry at all, Jensen, I guarantee you that anyone inside this diner right now don't know or care about you and your sweetie. Just relax, okay? You might have to decide what you're gonna do about it in Los Angeles, but not here."

She stood up and got him a glass of ice water. "Now, how about some nice mixed berry pie?"

 

In the end, he'd had the pie and another beer, then returned to crash again at the motel. He was much calmer, but the incident had proved one thing--he wasn't sure how he felt about being out to the entire world. He'd just come out to his family after years of repression and with considerable anxiety; he really hadn't considered everyone else yet. Fortunately, the two beers and the remaining fatigue from his trek enabled him to fall asleep quickly. Plus, tomorrow?

Tomorrow he'd see Jared.

Jared stood still in the middle of the diner, eyes trying to scan the place quickly and find Jensen. He fought not to panic, thinking desperately that surely Jensen wouldn't leave without seeing him . . .

"Jared?"

Jared whirled around and there he was, all six foot one of him, spiky hair and bowed legs, faded denim shirt and dark jeans. Jensen. Sparkling green eyes, full lips in a hesitant smile, hands jammed into his front pockets, the way he always did when he was nervous.

"Jensen?"

A spit second later, they were in each other's arms, hugging tightly. Jensen's hair tickled Jared's nose as he buried his face in the soft spikes, his arms straining to hold Jensen as closely as he could. God, he'd forgotten how strong Jensen was, how massive those shoulders were, how incredible that lean frame felt against him. Tears started trickling down his cheeks, and Jared fought not to sob with joy, with relief, with the release of a grief that had built up over the years. Jensen's scent filled his nose; a dash of cologne, Jensen's citrus shampoo, the warm smell of his skin, all combined into an essence that spelled love and home for Jared. He breathed it in deeply, wanting to fill his lungs with this scent forever.

The hands clutching his back opened slightly, and Jared took that as the sign to break the hug, although he didn't intend to go far. He lifted his head and stepped back half a step so he could look into Jensen's face. Jensen's eyes were bright--Jared could see his unshed tears as well, and then they spilled over as Jensen blinked, rolling down those beautiful freckled cheeks, losing themselves in his stubble. He brought up a hand to wipe them off and Jared caught it, bringing it instead to his lips and pressing a kiss on the knuckles.

"It's okay . . . I've got tears too. Don't be ashamed of them." Jared ran Jensen's hand across his face, showing Jensen his cheeks too were wet. He felt a ridiculously wide smile splitting his face while at the same time he wanted to sit right down and bawl, so he nodded to a booth, where they could sit and recover their emotional equilibrium. Jensen nodded back and they made it the few steps over, sitting down on either side of the table with hands still clasped.

"Jesus, Jared, you look . . . you look amazing. Even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you." Jensen's eyes kept searching Jared's face, both of his hands clutching one of Jared's.

"Dude, you even look in a mirror lately? You're ridiculously handsome, especially now that you're past that awkward twink stage." Jared winked as Jensen laughed. Jensen had always hated being regarded as a pretty-boy when he was younger, fighting to be recognized as an actor and a grown man. Jared studied the captivating crinkles at the corner of Jensen's eyes, the stubble that roughened his features, and the shadows around his eyes that spoke of sleeplessness and pain. Clearly Jensen had dealt with unhappiness and probably more, but the changes it had wrought on his face had only honed his masculine beauty.

Rayette approached the booth with glasses of ice water. "You boys wanna look at a menu, or you just going to keep staring at each other?" She winked at them. "Can't say as I blame ya, you both look good enough to eat!" She laughed as she plunked menus onto the table.

Jared felt flustered by her evident awareness of them, but Jensen just laughed. "I don't think we've decided yet, Rayette. Give us just a minute?"

"Sure thing, doll. You and that tall drink of water just holler, okay? Take your time." She walked away, and Jensen grinned at Jared.

"She kinda knows a little about what's going on. I spilled my guts a little as I was cooling down from walking in the desert for four and a half hours." As if he was still parched, Jensen drank deeply from his water glass.

"Four and a--what the hell, dude? You need to tell me everything, okay? Everything! I don't even--" Jared ran his free hand through his hair. "Years go by, Jen, years, and then you call me? You call me and tell me everything that I--everything I've wanted to hear from you. Everything I gave up ever hoping to hear. And now, here we are--and I kinda get it, but I kinda don't, and, Jensen . . ." Jared felt the tears filling his eyes again, blinked hard. "Jensen, please . . . please don't break my fuckin' heart again, baby, because I don't think I can . . . "

Speech failed him; he looked down and put his hand over his eyes, fighting to control his emotions. The joy at this reunion was only matched by the memory of the pain he'd gone through when they split. He felt strung out from being on the road, like he was on a emotional tightrope. He couldn't imagine feeling any more tightly wound. One wrong word, and he'd snap like an over-tuned guitar string.

"Jared, baby, shh . . . I promise, things are different. Can't promise they're gonna be perfect, or that I'm not gonna fuck up, but I can promise they're different. I'm different. Only thing that's not different is that I fucking love you like no one else. You're it, Jared, you've always been it, and my life has been so dark and empty without you."

Jensen slid out of his seat and into Jared's side, still holding onto his hand. "I just wanted to tell you that, baby, and that's why I called you. Jesus, I was so relieved you still had that number!" He gave a little smile and shook his head.

Jared looked up into Jensen's eyes. Jensen smiled softly at him, and Jared couldn't deny the love he saw shining in those vibrant green irises.

Jensen went on, saying, "Just wanted to tell you how much I loved you, how much I still love you. Darlin', if you want to give me a chance, I'll take it. But if you don't, I'll understand, and I'll respect that. You decide--if you need time to think it over, I'll respect that too. I just couldn't--I had to tell you, is all. I couldn't just let it go like it never happened."

Jensen's long lashes were clumped together with tears, and Jared brought his hand up and gently wiped across them with his thumb. Jensen closed his eyes and Jared heard his breath hitch.

"Okay," Jared whispered, his own voice sounding as from far away. "I'll take the chance."

They hugged for a few minutes after that, Jared's face hidden in Jensen's neck, Jensen's against Jared's chest. Jared had finally asked if they could eat something--romance was a great thing, he joked, but he'd driven several hours, and he was hungry. Jensen laughed and agreed, sliding back to his original seat and beckoning Rayette over. He remembered that Jared's big body and fast metabolism needed lots of fuel, and he wanted to take good care of his boy.

They had steak and eggs with coffee, fried potatoes, and fresh juice, keeping the conversation light as they ate. Jared caught Jensen up on the Padalecki family's doings, and Jensen talked about working on the show. Rayette waved off their payment, so Jensen left an enormous tip when they finally departed for the motel.

Jared drove them down the road to the motel, and grabbed a bag from the back seat as he followed Jensen inside. He laughed when he saw the room.

"Really?"

"I know, right? Sam and Dean would be right at home here. Just need us some Magic Fingers!" Jensen smirked as he wiggled his fingers at Jared. He watched Jared drop his bag and look around, shaking his head. "It's a pretty comfortable bed, though." He felt self-conscious as soon as the words left his mouth - he didn't mean to assume anything was going to happen physically. Yet.

Jared looked at him, a small smile teasing out his dimples. "Oh, really," he drawled. He went over and bounced lightly on the mattress. "Hmm, not bad . . ."

Jensen was seized by conflicting feelings of shyness and desire. Jared was here, bouncing on the bed right in front of him. Jensen didn't know if it was okay to touch him, but at the same time he felt like he needed to pounce or he'd explode. The warring urges froze him, eyes riveted on Jared but feet still, hands clenched at his sides.

Jared stopped bouncing and looked at Jensen. His smile died away.

"Jen . . . " he whispered. "Jen . . . please . . . come here . . ." He held a hand out.

Jensen walked to him, reaching his own hand out to slide into Jared's. "Jay, I . . . I want you so much, but I confess I'm scared. What are we going to do? What are we doing? Do we . . .?" His voice trailed off.

"I don't have all the answers, Jen. But we're here now, aren't we? And five years ago, we didn't think that this was ever going to happen again, but--here we are. Can we just start with this, and work it out as we go?" His brown-blue eyes looked steadily into Jensen's, and Jensen felt the intensity of Jared's words soaking into his body. If there was one characteristic of Jared that he remembered, it was how Jared always meant what he said. There was no prevarication with Jared Padalecki.

"Yeah," he said, tightening his fingers on Jared's hand. "Yeah, that sounds good." Finally, he was free to react--it was as if Jared's words freed him from his paralysis. He could smile and move and throw himself onto Jared, knocking him backwards onto the bed, pinning him down. Jared laughed joyfully, his arms sliding around Jensen's body and holding him close. Jensen watched him, laughing; that wide grin on his face bracketed by those delicious dimples, those bright eyes sparkling at him. Jensen's heart felt so full, so light, and he laughed again before bending his head down and kissing Jared.

They both froze for a second at the shock of contact before Jared kissed him back. The last restraints crashed to the floor as they kissed and kissed, their kisses growing increasingly sloppy and passionate as their mouths smashed together, and tongues plunged deep. Jensen was mostly on top of Jared, knowing that his bulk was no undue strain on the bigger man; his hands twined in Jared's long hair, feeling the silky strands catch on his fingers, relishing the solid bulk of the body underneath him. He could feel Jared's big hands sliding up and down his back, the fingers digging into the long ridges of muscle in Jensen's back, unlocking tension he hadn't even been aware of.

Jensen's cock hardened, and he instinctively started rutting against Jared. He rocked his hips a couple of times experimentally, waiting for Jared's reaction, then gasped with delight as Jared thrust back up against him, hard. God, that giant bulge in Jared's jeans felt so good against his aching dick! The pleasure sparked by their movement spread throughout Jensen like a heat wave, unleashing a hungry, reckless feeling he'd long forgotten about. Jensen pushed his entire body as hard as he could against Jared, craving more of that contact that had been so long denied.

"Little anxious there, Jen?" Jared murmured, nosing under Jensen's jaw and planting kisses all over his neck, his mouth thrilling Jensen's nerves wherever it landed. "I'm here, darlin', not going anywhere. 'M here." His hands slid down Jensen's back to grip his cheeks firmly, trapping them in place as he thrust upwards against Jensen's dick. "Feel so good already, Jesus. Get some clothes off, baby, I need me some skin. Need to feel you naked against me." He sucked hard on Jensen's neck where it joined his shoulder, alternating with licking the abused skin. Jensen bent his neck--Jared was a master at long, slow hickeys that Jensen could admire for days. He moaned quietly as Jared's lips continued their journey down his neck into the sensitive skin above his collarbone, sending out little shivers of delight.

They managed to strip, ending up back on the bed with legs intertwined and hands searching as they re-acquainted themselves with each other's body. Jensen sighed with joy and pleasure as Jared's big hands explored him, those long fingers searching out every muscle, every scar, every line on him, his deft fingers squeezing, tracing, rubbing, until Jensen felt that his skin was glowing all over. As Jared moved over and around him, Jensen kissed and licked all of Jared's solid muscle and silky skin that his mouth could reach. An occasional nip evoked a grunt or gasp from Jared, and Jensen smiled at the resultant smack on his ass in response, a sting softened by the warmth spreading from the blow.

Finally they were lined up together, Jared on top of him as they lay pressed together from shoulders to toes, kissing deeply as their cocks slid together in a mess of mutual pre-come between their bellies. Jensen's mind was blown with lust and excitement--he'd never forgotten how delicious Jared was, but the memory paled beside the actuality. He wanted to do everything all at once--blow Jared, have Jared blow him, fuck, be fucked. The sexual feast that was Jared felt overwhelming, after so many years starvation, and his dick was already so hard he knew he wouldn't last for five minutes in any of those scenarios anyway. He felt like he was absolutely vibrating with the intensity of their desire; that Jared's breath on him charged the very air around them, Jared's soft gasps and whispers intoxicating him as they slid together. Their hips moved as if in some primal dance, short thrusts and grinding circles, fat cocks rolling against each other while their chests mashed together, nipples diamond-hard as they left little trails of laser-heat against skin already on the razor edge of overstimulation.

I could die here and be happy, thought Jensen, head thrown back as he fought to breathe through the passion tightening his chest and throat. Deft fingertips plucked at the tiny, hard buds of his nipples, little twists and pinches that made him keen and arch, his own fingers clenched in Jared's hair. He pulled Jared's head back to his mouth, thrusting his tongue in and stealing the very air from Jared's lungs.

"You fucker, how are you so goddamn hot still . . . dammit, gonna kill me . . ." Jared growled, his words puffed into Jensen's skin. Jensen couldn't even put two words together, settling for groans and murmurs of Jared's name, single syllables like please and yes and God, hissed out as Jared played his body like a fucking instrument, drawing forth sighs and whimpers.

Their hands were slicked by the sheen of sweat on them, the heat from their bodies bouncing back and forth as they chased their climax. Jensen felt the imminence of his explosion and twisted their bodies, ending up on top of Jared again. Jared's hands skated down his back, one large paw grabbing each cheek and pulling Jensen impossibly close against him as he bucked up. The extra bit of contact, of pressure, was the match to the tinder--both men cried out as their orgasms slammed into them. Jensen's dick jumped and pulsed, his balls squeezing out hot globs and ribbons of come all over Jared's belly as well as his own. Jared followed scant seconds later; Jensen felt his thick cock harden under Jensen's softening one before more hot fluid spurted into the miniscule space between their bodies, leaving them both sated and panting.

Jared buried his face into the crook of Jensen's shoulder and neck, and it took a few moments before Jensen felt moisture on his skin and Jared's faint shaking.

Jared was crying.

"Shh . . . shh . . . " Jensen felt tears pricking his own eyes as he petted Jared's hair and held him close. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay? Should we . . .should we not have?" He rolled them onto their sides and kissed Jared's head, eyes closed as he prayed desperately that he hadn't already fucked it up.

Jared sniffled and lifted his head, watery eyes looking frankly at Jensen.

"Just kinda . . . overwhelming. Seeing you again. Being here with you. Making love with you. Didn't think that was ever going to happen again, but here we are. And it was so intense, so powerful--I kinda short-circuited emotionally. I'm okay. God, I am so fucking okay, Jen--I'm here with you. I couldn't be any better." He smiled shakily. "Just . . . everything hit me right after we came."

Jensen knew exactly what Jared meant. He felt it all too. The excitement, the tension, the nerves, the incredible sex. He smiled back as he ran a hand down the gorgeous plane of Jared's cheekbone.

"Yeah, I know just what you mean, darlin'. It's a hell of a ride, huh? And I know we got some work ahead, but Jesus Christ, I am so fucking happy to be right here with you. Nowhere I would rather be than spending some naked time with you."

They kissed, gently now that the passion had been tapped, and Jared reached for the sheet to pull over them.

"Sleep, lover. Let's get some rest now." His deep voice rolled over Jensen, leaving a feeling of peace behind.