Cyndra Rae (cyndrarae) wrote,
Cyndra Rae

The Untold Love Story of Inanimate Objects: Part Four

{Part Three}


Jensen gets into his car, a black Maserati this time, and drives away from Doctor Sedgwick’s office in a hurry. The way he breaks at least a dozen traffic rules to get back to the Inn, you’d think he was rushing to reach the side of a dying loved one or something equally morbid.

The visit to the doctor’s is the one and only trip he gets to make alone, and that’s because Joseph has explicit instructions not to leave Jared-watch under any condition and Trager, being the newest to the pack, is way too malleable. But it’s a risk Jensen has been taking three days a week, for the sake of both their sanities – his and Jared’s. He just hopes all the talking and the frigging heart-to-hearts will eventually be worth it.

Everything is starting to fall into place. All this time he’d been craving to have his old Jay back, have him talk to him like he used to, and all he had to do was pay attention to the painfully few words Jared did speak because Jared was right, about him.

Jensen is selfish, and self-centered. He made it all about himself. His guilt, his unresolved feelings, his fears and rage and regrets… so much, that he missed what should have been obvious to him from the get go.

Jensen wills his knees to stop shaking, preparing himself mentally for what he must do next. Pulling into the parking, he gets out of the car and strides into the hotel, heading straight up to the Presidential suite after confirming with Joseph that the younger actor is still inside.

He finds Jared napping like he usually does, like the meds in his system usually force him to, this time of the afternoon. Jared lies on his side, his arms casually bent up at the elbows, hands resting next to each other on Jared’s pillow. Jensen stretches out on the bed beside Jared as lightly as possible, mimicking the posture by turning on his side as well, facing Jared.

It is a little after four. Anytime now, Jared’s medically induced rest would break and he would wake. Anytime. Meanwhile, all Jensen does is watch. Jensen has always liked this long-haired look for Sam, and it just got longer in the last season. He could watch the ends of Jared’s silky brown hair curl up around that perfect jaw line and the base of that cream-white neck all day.

When Jared comes to, it’s like always… a breath that’s just a tad deeper – more like a sigh breaking him out of his sleep. His entire body heaves with the force of that breath.

“Hey, baby…”

Jared’s eyelids flutter at that, and moments later he opens his eyes to look up at his companion. He frowns softly, and is almost about to smile when something falters in his eyes and he stops. Jensen doesn’t like that.

“Truce?” He says with a pleading look in his eyes, anything to get Jared to start talking to him again.

Jared sighs and after a couple seconds pass them by, he nods. His eyes don’t seem to be all that happy with the uneasy silence that had settled between the men since yesterday either.

Jensen is relieved, and can’t help but smile as a sudden thought occurs to him.



“Tell me? What is so amusing?”

Jensen chuckles softly. “I was just thinking, this has to be the longest time we’ve gone without doing it ever since we got together.”

Jared gives him a ‘you pervert I’m injured here’ look but it’s in good jest and they both end up chuckling a little.

“Except the hiatuses of course,” he finally says and Jensen is happy to hear him participate.

“Yeah, except those.”

The windows are open, and they can hear the waves clashing against the rocks in the Pacific. Jared’s soft voice is the one that breaks the reverie.

“I feel like I haven’t touched you in years.”

“I’m right here. All you gotta do is reach out…”

And Jared does. Jensen shifts closer so Jared can raise one bandaged hand and place it on the side of Jensen’s head so the skin of his wrist is in direct contact with Jensen’s cheek. Jared is still sleep-warm and relaxed and all Jensen wants to do is bury himself in the other man’s chest and wrap his arms tight around that torso and never ever let go.

“Jay, did you think about what I said yeste– ”

“Don’t ruin it, Ackles.”

“But I thought you said you’d think about it.”

“I thought you said you’d give me time.”

Jensen shuts up, pouting sulkily a little, not that Jared seems to notice. Slowly, casually, Jared shifts in closer as well, until they can both align their mouths together, trapping each other in the sweetness of a kiss that’s desperate and passionate and full of pent-up, unspoken emotions. Jensen takes everything he can get, gratefully, happy to catch Jay in a mood that he can work with.

They make out for who knows how long, letting Jared discover that the tips of his fingers hold about as much teasing power as the rest of his hand. And Jensen can’t take his hands out of Jared’s hair for even a minute so it sort of levels the playing field anyway.

Jensen wrenches his mouth away for breath. “What do you want, Jay? My mouth?”

“No,” comes the breathless reply immediately. Jensen starts, Jared has never refused a blowjob from him before. Like, ever. Not even when they’ve just gone four rounds and Jared thinks his dick might just fall off if Jensen touches it again.

“I want you in me.”

“But Jay…”

Jared closes his mouth over Jensen’s to swallow his protests down. “Please, baby, figure it out. I need you in me.”

Jensen could die, just die right fucking now. Half his brain is already working on scenarios to do this – maybe he could have Jared situated in his lap and riding his cock, bounce him up and down while keeping his hands safely around Jensen’s neck and out of harm’s way…

It takes superhuman resolve to shut that side of his brain down, because there is something else that must take precedence now, before it is too late.

“Alright, tonight then.”

“No, right now, please…”

“Shhh, look at me, Jay…”

It takes a couple of attempts before Jared’s dilated pupils focus down and out of his momentary rush of lust. His smile falters when he meets Jensen’s eyes and Jensen pulls him closer to kiss him hard.

“Tonight, I promise. We should, uh, conserve our energies, for tonight. Right now, I got a little day trip planned for us. Let’s get you up and ready, alright?”

Jared groans in his disappointment and starts to turn away. “Why do you get to make all these decisions unilaterally, man?”

Jensen laughs and pulls the unresisting body back towards him. “This is the last one, baby. I promise. After today, you can call all the shots, alright?”

If Jared senses something off or different about Jensen’s sudden preference for abstinence, he doesn’t comment on it. Calmly, he answers yes or no to Jensen’s queries about which shirt and which jeans he’d like to go with today. A black button-down, and the same baggy jeans from yesterday? Of course.

He waits until they’re in the car and well on their way towards Monterey, and Jensen must give him props for that.

“So where are we going again?”

“Some place the locals highly recommend, and Jamie apparently loved. I’m hoping you’ll like it too.”

When Jared doesn’t comment, Jensen just carries on, more than willing to get another giant weight off his constricted chest.

“Besides, I think we should have done this two weeks ago, back in Vancouver, right after you opened your eyes.”

“What’s that?”

“Offer our thanks, Jay, to ‘Numero Uno’ for giving you back to us.”

Jared frowns and turns toward him again. “Are we going to…?”

“The San Carlos Cathedral.”

Jared suddenly doesn’t look so happy anymore. “I thought you were Baptist.”

“Meh, tomato to-mah-to.” Jensen makes his couldn’t-care-less face. But the fact that they were going to a church Jared’s mom might take him to, is not lost on either of them.

About twenty minutes later, they arrive outside a magnificent building in the middle of Church Street. After they park, Jensen turns to his companion and it’s immediately obvious Jared is not willing to leave the comfort of the car for this place. Not yet.

“I’m gonna go in. You can take your time. I’ll wait for you inside.”

Jensen runs a hand through Jared’s silky hair once, then quickly gets out of the car, before he thinks he might change his mind. He goes over to Jared’s side and unlocks his door so all Jared would have to do is push it aside and step out. Jensen then exchanges a look with the two men parked in a black SUV a few yards away and walks in through the giant oak doors of the cathedral.

The church is… well, not as intimidating a structure as the old seventeenth century gothic architecture once allowed them to be. And this time of the day there is hardly anyone there, not even the pastor is around, so it’s quiet and peaceful. With the exception of an old couple in their eighties maybe, who sit in a corner farthest from the front, completely engrossed in each other. Jensen hasn’t come into one of these places in a while now. It’s unfortunate how he turned out to be exactly the opposite of what his parents tried to raise him to be.

Ten minutes later, Jensen is lighting a candle when he hears the heavy, hesitant footsteps behind him. Jensen turns to greet Jared with a relieved smile, but it immediately fades at the expression he finds on the vulnerable face. He is hurting, his boy, and never, since he came to in the hospital, has his pain been as pronounced and obvious as it is now.

“Why did you bring me here?”

The question echoes through the hollowness and Jensen isn't sure how to respond. Jared comes to stop by the front most pew, leaning against it as if for support and he’s visibly shaking. He looks up at the giant cross and Jensen can only imagine what is going through his head at a sight that once brought him peace and made him feel safe and loved but now, all it stands for are traumatic memories of a night that should never ever have happened.

“Why are you doing this, Jensen?”

Jensen gulps, and turns back toward the cross. “Do you want to light a candle?”

“To hell with the fucking candle!!”

The old couple looks up then, and without a fuss, they get up to walk out of the church. Give the men their privacy. Jensen turns toward Jared at last, but he stays silent.

“Is this funny to you, Jensen? Do you find it fascinating to watch? – me facing my demons at last? What’s a good reaction, you think? What’s… sellable? What’s good entertainment, huh? I mean clearly I can’t just walk out, no – that’d be too dull. All documentary and no drama. So what should I do, Jensen? Tell me.”

Jensen holds his tongue.

“Should I kneel before the cross that I was nailed to, pretending to still love it? Bow before this ugly reminder of how this God I once blindly trusted and believed in abandoned me, and be thankful that I’m still alive to remember it?”

Jensen flinches, not sure if he’s allowed to feel relieved that Jared didn’t include his name in the list of people who let him down that night. Jared sits down on the chair he’s been leaning against. He looks up at the cross through rage-filled eyes.

“Did you know they waited for me to come back to consciousness? Before they nail-gunned my hands to the cross?”

Jensen flinches violently.

“They just stood there, watching me bleed, getting ready to punch another two through my feet next and one in the heart after that. Not a shred of regret or doubt in their cold eyes. Said they wanted me to feel every single moment of pain, listen to every drop of blood dripping out of my body, said that was to be my penance.”

Talking about what happened with Doctor Sedgwick had helped somewhat, desensitized Jensen enough to be able to bear this confrontation. But he still doesn’t want to re-live that horrific ordeal, damn it! Memories from that night are still stark and vivid in his head – when he, Cliff and a couple guys from the crew burst through the old abandoned church doors, only to find an encore performance of a scene they did back in episode five-sixteen – the one where a bunch of hunters gone bad try to exact revenge on Sam Winchester for turning Lucifer loose. Only this time, it was happening for real. A giant wooden cross put together from scaffolding parts, lying flat on the floor, a man stripped to his jeans in sub-zero temperature and tied down with thick nylon ropes, his arms stretched out to either side, and the pools of blood (real not corn syrup) gathering under each hand nailed to the board....

Jared suddenly turns to Jensen and the look he gives the older man is absolutely gut-wrenching. “What did I do that was so wrong, Jensen?”

“Jesus,” Jensen walks over to him and kneels before him on the ground. He is almost at eye level with Jared whose mouth is twisted into an expression of such misery, it tugs at Jensen’s heart. He holds the younger man’s face in both his hands.

“You did nothing wrong, Jared. None of this is your fault! You have to know that…”

“I thought so too, I thought I did everything right. Believed my mom when she said I was a good kid, a miracle kid. God’s favored child and shit.”

Jensen strokes his wild hair out of Jared's face, feeling his restlessness as he writhes to get away from his hands.

“Why did He let this happen to me, Jensen? Why did He let the memory of the five most important years of my life be ruined by something like this?”

Fuck. Of course. The show is over, and the plan was always to part ways once it did.

“You’re gonna go back to your designer white picket fences life with Danneel.”

“No, Jay, please listen, I…”

“And I’m okay with that, Jensen. Really I am! You don’t have to give up your whole damn life for me! I just want you to be happy, and I’ll never, ever come in the way of what you want to do. But…”

Jensen sighs and pulls his hands away, remembering what Doctor Sedgwick said about not interrupting or talking back at Jared when he does finally start to open up.

“I told myself I could be happy knowing we’d had these five great years. I could live on the great memories of our time together, forever. It’s the only thing that’s made me carry on ever since you... got engaged.”


“But now?” Jared whimpers and it echoes through the giant halls painfully. “Now every time I think back to Supernatural, all I’ll remember is how badly it ended, for me, for Cliff and his crew. For you. Every time I think of you, I’ll remember your panicked face back at the hospital by my side. How angry and helpless you looked. How… guilty…”

“Every time someone asks for my autograph or photograph or whatever, my first instinct will be to run away, far as I can. I don’t even wanna think of Supernatural anymore, and it’s all His fault! He took it all away from me! And if that wasn’t enough, He let it happen in a fucking church.”


“Everything’s gone, Jensen. It’s all gone.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What, didn’t I pray enough? Didn’t I go to church enough? Am I not fucking straight enough?”

Jensen winces. “I thought you were past that.”

Jared gnarls. “Well I don’t know what to fucking think anymore! I did everything right, least I thought I did. Then why?”

Jensen rises from the floor and sits beside Jared on the pew, pulling the younger man into his arms and holding him as tight as he can. Jared buries his face in the crook of Jensen’s shoulder, his entire frame racked by shudders. Soon enough, hot wetness seeps through Jensen’s shirt and practically sears his skin, making Jensen hold him tighter to himself. Jared’s soft sniffles are amplified by the acoustics of the damn church and Jensen finds himself staring up at the cross – feeling about the same anger and a sense of betrayal that Jared does right now.

But how do you feel anger for someone you don’t even believe exists?

“Why does anything bad ever happen, Jay,” he begins softly, knowing he’s treading really fragile ground here. “Why do kids die, why do wars happen, why do good people suffer more than others? I wish I had the answers. Maybe if I did, I’d still go to church and say grace like my folks wanted me to. But I don’t.”

Jared snivels against Jensen’s neck, relaxing little by little against the older man’s frame. Jensen lets him be, rocking him from side to side hoping desperately to somehow, somewhat, make it better.

“You know,” Jared pulls away a little. “Honestly, I don’t think I can stay angry at those girls forever. They were just two very sick kids driven to stark raving madness by how much they loved you. I guess I can relate.”

Jensen shakes his head guiltily at that, until Jared turns to look at the cross again. “But I can hate Him forever. I know I will.”

Damn it.

“No, no you don’t. You can’t hate Him, Jay, you know why? Because you don’t have it in you to hate anybody. That’s how God made you, that’s why you’re His favorite.”

Jared scoffs at that. “You’re making Him sound like old Yellow Eyes.”

“What?” And when Jensen remembers, he snorts too. “No but seriously, you are, Jay. Look at you! You are kind and passionate and positive and funny and so inspiring. You make everyone around you happy that they know you.”

Jensen wipes the tears off his face tenderly.

“Jared, you are beautiful and wonderful and perfect because that’s how He made you, and you owe it to Him and to yourself to never let that change, man. You owe it to me.”

Jared looks up at him, really looks at him… like he hasn’t seen him in forever. His heavy wheezing echoes through the dome, only a decibel louder than the strong tell-tale rhythm of Jensen’s own beating heart.

And then Jared looks down at his hands. “I can’t stay fucking perfect forever, you know,” he drawls, articulating it with such sudden, genuine, calmness that Jensen isn’t sure what to make of yet.

“I’ll get old, and moody, and boring, and cranky…”

“In other words, you’ll turn into me?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Jensen smiles, his own eyes brimming over. “You are always going to be perfect for me.”

Tears start afresh and Jared tries to pull away from Jensen but he won’t have any of it. “No, you’re not going anywhere, Jay. I’m not letting you go.”

Jared stills.

“Not this time.”

Jared keeps his eyes lowered and stays frozen and unresponsive for the longest time. That’s when Jensen starts to feel his fear of rejection return… the momentary rush of being swept away by emotions, only to sink to depths of despair and eternal loneliness.

“Of course, if-if that’s not what you wa-want… I, I could – um, go away… maybe?”

Catching a glimpse of the cross, just behind Jared in his direct line of sight, Jensen finds himself praying for the first time in a very, very long time. He feels blessed when Jared scoffs ever so softly, and looks up.

“You have the worst timing, Ackles.”

Jensen winces, but it’s a happy wince, really, making Jared shake his head in mild amusement. Tentatively, he reaches out with one bandaged hand, seeking contact with Jensen’s face. Jensen lets the stiff tips of his immobilized fingers draw random lines down his stubbled jaw. Curses himself silently for feeling all… well, lusty, inside a church. But he can’t help it – that’s the Jared effect. When the touch is withdrawn, Jensen takes said hand in both of his.

“Are you sure?” Jared whispers, his voice still wet with tears. "It’s going to be harder than you think."

Jensen can only smile because the answer is so very simple – how could he not see this before? It is a moment of complete and utter, and almost divine clarity. One in which he feels the universe literally shifting around them like the pieces of a complex puzzle finally sliding into place with a satisfying and soundless click.

“The harder choice would have been trying to live without you, Jay. I'm only sorry I didn't see it before...”

"Before the attack, you mean?" Jared finishes quietly, frames it as a question to which, Jensen suspects, he doesn't actually expect a response. He watches as Jared forces himself to look up at the cross again, and wonders if Jared is thinking what he is thinking. A couple seconds later, he decides he can't stand the suspense more.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, then?" He suggests, trying to smile but just ends up twisting his mouth into a sheepish little grimace.

He is rewarded with a Jared chuckling ever so softly, turning back to look at Jensen. "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away," he whispers, remnants of resentment still lingering at the edges of what was supposed to be a joke.

"Not everything's gone, Jay. You still have me."

Jared doesn't reply. Instead, he quietly leans forward and buries his face in Jensen’s shoulder. The older man closes his arms around his boy in bittersweet relief, rocking him gently.


Kyra looks at her watch. It’s a quarter past three in the afternoon, which probably means Jensen is not coming in today. She sighs and rises from her chair, steps out of her three inch Gucci heels and matching maroon business jacket. She walks up to her balcony and throws open the doors, letting the ocean breeze flood her office.

There is so much about this case, the J2 case, as she likes to call it these days, that’s intriguing and challenging to her, not just as a therapist, but also as a human being. A wife.

What makes two people as different as night and day (wave and rock) gravitate towards each other? What makes two strong individualistic personalities want to melt into each other, even as they continue to fear losing an identity of their own? How do some people overcome that fear and find happiness in their surrender, and why can’t others do the same? Like her husband?

Kyra sighs and fishes out the box of Marlboro Lights and the lighter she keeps stashed at the bottom of a flower vase, for emergencies of course. Lighting up, she steps out onto the terrace. Closing her eyes, she exhales the smoke through her mouth and lifts her face up to the sky, bathing in the sea salt and sunlight.

She’s glad for Jensen, who overcame his fears in a span of three weeks and is possibly a better, happier person for it. She is curious how Jared is doing – if he’s letting a bunch of creepy, delusional and most likely parental affection-starved children take away his ability to trust.

She wonders what it is about the current generation that makes them so susceptible to fantasies and delusions. Are we so deeply unsatisfied with our real lives to want to completely immerse ourselves in fiction? And how unhappy does one have to be to react so freaking violently just because they didn’t get the ending they wanted to a fictional series?

Yeah, it’s no secret that many fans didn’t quite appreciate (or maybe get) the way they ended the last season, and quite possibly the whole series. Happy endings can mean so many different things to different people. Take Kyra, for example. A happy ending for many women means a drop-dead gorgeous, successful, millionaire husband. ‘Course, it isn’t enough for Kyra. All she wants is for Kevin to come home in time for dinner every night, surprise her with the occasional red rose maybe, if it’s not too much trouble.

“Meh. Happy endings are so overrated.”

Great. Now she is talking to herself.

Kyra sighs and drags one last time on the cigarette stick, leaning against the balcony door. Who knows what ending fate has in mind for the Supernatural actors. One’s strangely reserved for an actor, self-centered (naturally, for an actor) and more than a little neurotic. The other is a frantic attention seeker, can’t stand to be disliked, and is quite possibly addicted to sugar to keep himself super-amped all the time. Neither is perfect. But they sure seem to be exactly what the other one needs.

She drops the end of the cigarette to the floor and stubs it under her right foot. A second later she howls. Totally forgot she was still barefoot.

“Ow Ow Ow…”

“Doctor Sedgwick?”

Try twisting around suddenly when in the middle of already jumping around on one foot: it should be entertaining, if you don’t break something first.

“Oh, hi! Uh, I didn’t think you were coming today…”

Jensen tilts his head and squints at her. “You alright there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… exercising, heh. Come on in.”

He waits for her to come into the office from the terrace and bites his lip coyly. “I got someone here I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh my God.” Kyra instinctively covers her open mouth with a hand. He did it.

Jensen opens the door again to reveal a tall, lanky young man standing behind it with his arms crossed behind him, as if hiding them. It’s going to take him a while to get over that stance for sure.

“Jared Padalecki. At last,” she smiles up at him and he returns it, even though it’s kind of awkward and shrink-wary and 'yeah whatever'. He is wearing a white button-up over a really bad pair of jeans that make Kyra instantly suspect that he’s way too self-conscious about his skinny legs. It’s a strange look for a young and upcoming Hollywood celebrity. Hell, even Sam Winchester looks infinitely well put together in comparison

“Nice office,” he offers as he ambles in, staying as close to and almost behind Jensen all the while. “Great view.”

Jensen pulls the sleeves of his black jersey up to his elbows and feeds Jared’s dependence by pulling him closer to himself and leading him to the couch. The way they sit right next to each other, their limbs touching as much as physically possible, it’s too cute for words. Kyra bites back a smile and turns away to gather her professional self.

“So, I’m guessing we made a lot of progress yesterday?”

The men look at each other, and for a second it feels like they’ve forgotten she’s even in the room. Just as her heart starts to melt, they start sniggering and giggling like a bunch of doped up teenagers.

Kyra rolls her eyes. “Anyone want to fill me in?”

Jensen looks away to bite back his laughter and Jared is the one who tries to respond to her. “We just came here to thank you, Doctor Sedgwick and to – wait a minute.”

Jared sniffs and looks around, and his eyes land on the ashtray sitting by the balcony door.

“You let him smoke in here, don’t you?”

Jensen looks guilty, and so does Kyra. Even the minor burn on the sole of her right foot returns with a vengeance. She abruptly clears her throat. “It’s so strange – you don’t look so tall in person actually.”

Jared gasps. “Excuse me?”

And that sends Jensen into fresh fits of laughter, changing the subject successfully. Takes awhile for them to get over the silliness and Kyra can see how easy it is to break the ice with Jared Padalecki. It’s because he tends to do it pretty much on his own.

“So I take it you guys talked?”

“Yeah, we talked.” Jensen pulls his cell phone out of his back pocket and messes with it as he speaks. Anything to not have to look into Kyra’s eyes right now. God, is he blushing?

“And he cried,” Jared added.

“I cried? You cried. All damn night.”

Jared tries to look completely affronted. “No I didn’t. You’re such a liar, Ackles.”

“Alright, fine,” Jensen appeases, leaning back and resting his palms on the couch behind him. “We both cried. And ate tons of chocolate. Did our nails.”

“And we logged on with fake aliases and wanked all night!” Jared adds eagerly.

Kyra raises her eyebrows.

Jensen squints at her. “You don’t know what wanking is?” And then turns to Jared. “She doesn’t know what wanking is. Jay why don’t you explain to her what wanking is or she’ll think we’re a couple of perverts who post jerk-off videos on the internet.”

Kyra joins in with her soft chuckling.

“It’s basically bitching and whining about anything and everything on the online blogs and fansites and stuff – so we bitched about the show and its loser plot…”

“- and its sucky actors and its sucky ending…”

“- and we told everyone how much they all suck too.”

Kyra soon realizes it’s futile to keep track of what they’re kidding about and what they’re serious about anymore. She just pretends to listen, as intently and objectively and detachedly as a therapist is supposed to. If she’d known a bunch of half-loony actors like themselves was what it’d take to teach her to do her job right, she would have stalked the couple down herself. Yes, half-loony, that is so a medical term.

“What’s your username?”

Kyra stutters, “I-I don’t have one.”

“You expect us to believe that, sweetheart?” Jensen smirks at her, almost predatorily.

Kyra bites her lip to resist. “Only if you tell me yours.”

Jared snorts. “He’s studlyjackals.”

She smirks. “Of course.”

Jensen mock-scowls at his partner, ruffling his hair. “Thanks, you big babble-mouth. Now tell her yours.”

Jared is happy enough to do so. “I’m hotbodjared.”

She has to laugh at that. “No one expects you guys to have your own names in your aliases, of course. Clever.”

“Okay, your turn.”


Jensen is giving her the smoking gaze again. “Come on, Doctor Sedgwick. How bad can it be? You can admit you have the hots for us, we don’t mind. Really.”

“Really?” Kyra raises an eyebrow. “You won’t mind being in such close proximity to a fangirl?”

Jensen swallows and looks at Jared, who lowers his eyes for a second but when he looks up he looks calm, and sure. “It’s still hard, yeah, and it will be, for some time to come but… it would be wrong of me to generalize and assume everyone is bat-shit crazy, ‘cause they’re not. Our fans made us what we are today, and God knows we’re very grateful to them. We’re not going to let a couple of bad encounters make us forget that.”

Kyra smiles feeling immensely proud of what these men have overcome together in the past three weeks.

“Alright,” she leans back in her seat and smiles, looking straight into Jensen’s eyes.

“I’m mishasmistress.”

There is pin drop silence for about a second.


At the end of a half hour, Jared is laughing so hard he starts to cough and choke or something and Kyra rushes out to get him a glass of water. When she is just about to step back into the office, she finds Jensen half-reclined on the couch and holding Jared in front of him, between his legs. It’s amazing how the two six feet plus frames fit together perfectly on her little brown couch.

Jared clearly isn’t choking or coughing anymore, just leaning back, completely relaxed against his lover's chest. Jensen’s arms surround the younger man and his hands hold both of Jared’s wrists together in front of his stomach as if holding him captive, but really he just seems to be trying to keep them safe. And he is kissing the side of Jared’s temple, whispering something in his ear that she can’t hear, but it's making Jared grin mischievously.

Kyra sighs, and quietly closes the door behind her to let them be.

Maybe this is their happy ending after all, to hell with what everyone else wants. Kyra smiles and decides to surprise her husband with a call in the middle of the day. The phone rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Kevin? Hey… is this a bad time? Great… oh no, yeah, everything’s fine. I um… I just felt like saying hi…”


Spring tides are Jensen’s favorites. It’s when the earth, the sun and the moon, all three, are perfectly aligned to create the biggest, most sensational ripples in the sea. One might think such a rabid obsession with waves would automatically translate into a love for surfing or sailing or some other kind of water sport. But not so with Jensen.

Nah, he’s too freaking lazy for that. He’d rather just stand here, at the edge of his terrace and let the violent crashing of a gazillion gallons of water compensate for the silence within.

“Jensen, would you please put that damn thing out?”

The irritated voice brings Jensen back to solid ground, and he turns towards his boyfriend waiting impatiently by the glass door. He can’t quite cross his arms against his chest yet, but tries anyway.

“Thought you said you were gonna quit, man.”

Jensen shrugs guiltily and stubs out his cigarette. “This one’s gonna take more than a few days, sweetheart.”

Jared rolls his eyes and stalks back in, and Jensen quickly follows, biting back a grin because he’s never been this happy to hear Jared complain before.

“So are we doing this or what?” Jared drawls as he settles onto the living room couch.

“Absolutely, man. We’re doing this.” Jensen claps a couple times and takes his intended place beside Jared, their thighs lined up from toes to pelvis and through Jensen’s steel gray cargos and Jared’s blue sweatpants, the heat is bound to build up pretty damn quickly. Jared wiggles his eyebrows (comically) suggestively but Jensen chooses to put a little distance between the two instead.

“Not now, baby. We got work to do.”

He’s not going to let either of them chicken out now. It’s four days later, four beautiful, wonderful days later. And Jensen wishes they could do this forever – hide from the real world and all their responsibilities, their parents, their ex-girlfriends, the network, the fans… hide in Jared’s embrace forever. But it’s one wish that, even if it could come true, wouldn’t be healthy for either of them – least of all Jared. And his boy agrees.

Jared needs to face his fears, and he needs to do it now.

They both sigh at exactly the same time, as they stare at the Cisco telecom set on the coffee table before them.

“Who’s first?”

“My folks.”


Jensen swallows and dials the San Antonio phone number he’s known by heart for five years now. As the bell ring echoes through their gigantically empty suite, Jensen reaches for Jared’s trembling hand and grips it. Hard.


Twenty five minutes later, Jared is stretched out across the length of the couch, his brand new Kindle 3.0 resting against his propped up knees. He uses the tips of his bandaged fingers to operate the controls and when they fail, he tries to use a stick of Twizzler clasped between his lips as a pen instead.

Jensen walks in from the kitchen with two Coronas in hand. The speaker phone is still on, the sound muted at this end but the beyond-angry male voice at the other end of the line has been at it for awhile now.

“Dude, your dad can whale.”

Jared smirks around the candy in his mouth, “Good thing your folks are already clued in about your bisexuality, huh?”

Jensen shrugs – that was a struggle he went through alone, years before he knew Jared existed. Now he watches Jared go through his own battle closely, and is relieved to see that with the worst part behind them (breaking the news), he doesn’t seem so bothered after all. Like he’d been expecting this reaction for years now and he is only glad to have it done and over with.

“This is your fault, Ackles! Your goddamn fault! I knew from the minute I laid eyes on you that you were going to be a bad influence on my son. You have sullied my son’s innocence in the worst way possible. You’ve stolen his virtue…”

Jeezuz! Jared rolls his eyes and Jensen chuckles, remembering the last time he stole Jared’s virtue which happened to be only a few hours ago.

Jensen had, as every morning, helped Jared in the bathroom, and after a shower and a shave he’d shoved him into a white fluffy robe and deposited him back into the bedroom before going back to shower and change himself. Of course, the kid decided to do exactly what Jensen forbade him to do and promptly fell back into bed. Jensen came out of the shower dressed in a fresh pair of sweats with a towel in one hand rubbing his spiky hair, and shook his head.

What’s a guy to do? He’d crawled back into bed himself, smirking, congratulating himself for the lust-ridden befuddlement on Jared’s face as he slowly came to, to Jensen’s fingers slicking up his insides and Jensen’s expert mouth suckling at his ball sac, slurping and lapping and licking away like he’d been at it for hours.

Jared had smiled and stretched languorously, letting Jensen throw open the bath robe and mount Jared’s legs onto his shoulders. It happens to be Jensen’s favorite position these days; this way he can lean over Jared and grasp his biceps to hold them down, so he won’t be able to twitch or flail his hands on reflex and hurt himself.

Slowly but steadily, he’d fingered and stretched the tight little orifice open until he’d made space for his hard cock to sink into Jared’s very core. And when he could go no deeper, he’d started to move – slow at first, then building up strength and speed until he was plowing Jared’s ass like there was no tomorrow. When Jared came, spurting his release all over both their chests and stomachs, he screamed Jensen’s name so hard, so loud and so many times that Jensen feared their bodyguards might come charging in through the doors any minute.

Oh yeah, lotsa virtues being stolen on a daily basis here. Sometimes four to five times a day.

Eventually, he figures after all the verbal beating they’ve both taken, it’s time to bring the senior Padalecki down a notch too. “You wanna do it?”

Jared swings his long legs off the couch and to the floor and puts his Kindle aside. He leans over and thumbs the mute button off.


“My son’s whole life, his career, his future…. our family’s future, our reputation…”

“Daddy…. Dad!!”


“Mom knows.”

“… What?”

“She’s known for six years now.”

When the shouting changes course toward someone in the background, Jared heaves a deep sigh (but not on relief) and switches the phone off. Jensen hands him his beer then, watching as Jared closes both his splinted hands around it and manages to not spill a single drop as he takes his first big swig of alcohol in weeks.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Jared shakes his head and manages to paste a smile back on his gorgeous face. “They’ll sort it out. She’ll have him come around in a few days, you just watch.”

Jensen sits beside Jared and they lean back to enjoy the blessed silence for a few minutes, before Jared straightens up again.

“So who’s next?”

Jensen grimaces.

“Can't we do this in the end?”

Jared chuckles. “No man, we decided we’re gonna go down the list in descending order of expected hostility.”

“When did I agree to that? You can’t be making all our decisions unilaterally, you know?”

Jared pushes the phone set closer to Jensen. “Come on, it’s only going to get easier.”

“Maybe I should write her a letter?”

Jensen finally complies when Jared looks like he could conk his lover on the head with the heavyweight plaster on his hands. He takes a big, calming breath and dials Danneel’s mobile. It rings twice before she picks up.

“This is Danneel?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

There is a year-long stunned silence on the other end.

“Jensen, hi…”

“How are you?”

“How do you expect?”

Jensen doesn’t know how to respond to that. Jared presses in closer to his side and it comforts him more than anything.

“Look, I called because… I wanted to explain why. We were friends long before we were anything else and Danni, I need you to understand…”

“I know, Jensen. And really, you don’t have to… that is, I can’t… uh…” She seems flushed and hesitant and almost distressed. And then she huffs right into the phone. “Did you not get my letter?”

Jensen looks at Jared, and Jared looks at Jensen.

“Look, I’ve known about you and Jared for awhile now. I’d have to be blind not to! I just… I didn’t think you were that serious and… let’s just say, I get it, alright? I’ve already worked my way through the emotional rollercoaster of being dumped these past four weeks and I cannot, I can’t do this again just so you can get stuff off your chest. I’m sorry, Jensen, I… I have to go.”

The line goes dead. Jensen finds himself staring at the phone again, not sure if the numbness he feels inside is a good thing or a very, very bad thing. Beside him, Jared is so utterly silent that Jensen can’t even hear him breathe and that jolts him back into action.

“Well, guess you were right,” he sighs and turns towards Jared. Slips his hands under Jared’s armpits and pulls the younger man into a tight hug. Jared promptly rests his forehead on Jensen’s shoulder and lets their bodies meld together for comfort – both give and take.

“About what?”

“The letter would have been a bad idea.”

A second later, Jared laughs, muffling the heartening sound in Jensen’s shirt but hey, he’ll take whatever he can get.

“So who’s next?”

Jared pulls back to look at Jensen, mischief sparkling in his champagne eyes.

“Maybe you should talk to Kane.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “The only time I’m calling him is from my death bed to let the motherfucker know that I’ve been a better singer than him all his fucking life!”

Jared sniggers shortly, but he doesn’t quite completely concur. “You know, he could have gone to the press with everything he knows about us – the… the assault, us together…”

Jensen notices how Jared hesitated less this time when referring to his traumatic experience. And yeah, he did also notice that Christian hadn’t tried to hurt him in any way since they parted ways nearly a month ago.

“After all,” Jared adds, fiddling with the bronze buttons on Jensen’s shirt, “one could argue that since we’ve… together… given the Big Guy Upstairs another chance, surely your childhood best friend deserves one too?”

When did this man-child in his life get so freaking sorted? Jensen bites his lip but shakes his head. “Someday, maybe, Jay… someday.”

Jared nods, “Okay then. Next has to be the network then.”

“That I can do.”

The first number they try is switched off and the second number gets picked up after just one ring.

“Jensen!!!! So nice to hear your voice, my man!!”

Jensen doesn’t bother to point out to Paul Franko, the CW studio executive, that he hasn’t uttered a single word yet.

“Hey, Paul, how are ya.”

The small talk drags on for awhile but then Franko comes right down to business, more than eager to sign the two stars back for a sixth Supernatural season. The show exploded in its last two seasons and the sale of the peripherals like books, clothing lines, miniature Impalas, and RPG games alone has hit a record high for any other TV show on air right now. Not even Lost sells as many action figures as the Winchesters, man!

“Listen, Jensen… we hear what you’re saying and we’re working on Kripke practically twenty four seven right now. He’s about to break, I swear, I'd put my own personal money on that. And get this, I think I can get Nutter to come back for the premiere episode!! It’s gonna be just like old times! What do you say, huh?”

“Uh, I don’t know Paul. It’s not looking too good right now.”

“Oh stop playing me, kiddo. Of course there’s a raise involved! We wouldn’t hold out on you, not after five seasons! How does ‘executive producer’ sound to you, huh? Huh?”

Jensen gulps. Hard.

“Obviously, that title comes with benefits. Lots of them including revenue share. That’s the truckload you’re looking for aren’t ya? Well, you got it! How about it?”

Jensen’s an honest guy. He can’t deny the prospect is looking more and more appealing the longer he lets Franko ramble. He turns to look at Jared, and the blood runs cold in his veins.

Jared looks like he’s drowning in memories of Vancouver, of the set, of the… the crew… memories that are nowhere near happy. Jensen never wants to see that look on this face ever again. He needs to shut this down now, before Jared shuts himself down again.

“The answer’s no, Paul.”

He might as well have bitch-slapped the poor guy. Jensen tries to explain.“I’m sorry, man, but with everything that’s happened… it’ll be too close, too much, too soon. I’m sure you can understand that, right?”

Franko stutters for the first time in this conversation that he probably thought he’d had in the bag. “B-But… I’m sorry I forgot to ask, how is Jared doing?”

Jared snaps out of – wherever he was – at the sound of his name. “Hi Paul,” he drawls, still sounding too spaced out for Jensen’s liking.

“Hey, big Jay!! You’ve been eavesdroppin’? Must be feeling loads better then, huh?” The voice laughs at its own not-funny joke.

“Listen, guys, I get it. You need time, you need a break. Alright, fine! How about… a year long break? Take the whole year! We’ll shoot for next spring instead of this fall.”

Jensen rubs his eyes, almost cautiously. Some days he forgets he doesn’t have to wear contacts anymore.

“Maybe it’s time to move on, Paul. Maybe –" Jensen pauses when a hesitant hand closes over his, and he looks up at Jared in question.

“You’re right, Jen. It is time to move on. I-I can’t run away from the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Jensen swallows. “Paul, give us a sec, okay?”


He presses mute and turns to face Jared. “Jay? You know you don’t have to. We don’t need the show anymore to keep us together, alright?”

Jared cracks a soft smile, and he leans in to kiss Jensen on the lips. “I know that. But don’t flatter yourself too much, Ackles. In this context, by ‘best thing’, I meant the show.”

Jensen can’t help but pout a little at that, and that just makes Jared chuckle.

“Truth is, if I let a couple of whack-jobs stop me from doing what I truly love, they win and I lose. And I’ll always keep losing if I don’t get back up and fight now.”


“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jensen answers with another kiss, longer and deeper, that takes both their breath away. He holds Jared’s face in both his hands and presses their foreheads together.

“I’m so proud of you, Jay.”

“You love me.”

“Of course I do.”

Jared smiles shyly, and is about to kiss Jensen again when the studio exec on the phone clears his throat. Loudly.

“Listen, guys, there’s no rush. Why don’t you sleep on it? Alright? I can wait for you to –“

Jensen presses the mute button again. “Alright, a year’s break. And then we’re on. Aa-and as executive producers and everything.”

“Excellent! Done!”

Well, least they managed to make one person on the phone happy tonight.

“So,” Jared starts, lips swollen and red and beautiful, dimples darkening in the pale yellow light of the floor lamps nearby.

“Who’re we doing next?”

Jensen smiles and squints, pretending to think about it.

“Hmm. I think, next… we’re doing you.”


Tom Welling, as always, has perfect timing when it comes to the ‘Wincesters’. He calls just as Jensen is rising from the couch and dragging a disinterest-feigning Jared up with him. Needless to say, they let the machine get it.

“Guys, where are you? And why exactly are your cell phones switched off?”

Laughter echoes through the suite as the guys abandon their Coronas for a brand new bottle of champagne and head into the bedroom.

“And you’ve been holed up in that royal fucking suite of yours for three whole days now. Come on guys, I thought we were past that stage?!?!”

*** END ***

{Masterpost}   |    {Artwork-1}   |   {Artwork-2}   |   {Artwork-3}   |   {Soundtrack}

A/N: Please let me know what you think?
Tags: challenge: bigbang, fic: j2rps: untold love story

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