Work Text:
Title: It’s All Just the Same (In the End)
Characters: SV!Jensen/GG!Jared
Rating: NC-17.
Word Count: 3, 385
Disclaimer: I don’t own Jared or Jensen, I’m not affiliated with them, and none of the following ever happened. Of that, I can be certain.
Summary: Interlude in the new otp ‘verse. Thanksgiving with the boys.
Notes: This is the resolution to I Need Direction to Perfection (Help Me Out) & Wherever I’ve Gone (I Find Myself There).
After last night, Jared can’t honestly say he knows what the hell to expect when he wakes up. There’s a part of him that wants to remain in that hazy, cozy fog of sleep – where there’s just dreams and Jensen – but the louder, more vocal part of himself demands he get his ass up and find breakfast.
Over twenty years and his stomach hasn’t lost a battle yet.
But really, it’s not like he’s expecting Jensen to still be in bed with him; his door might have a lock on it, but his parents have the key, and the last thing Jared feels up to is accidentally outing himself and freaking Jensen out so bad he runs back to Vancouver and never speaks to Jared again. Which kind of sucks, because one of the big reasons he’d even wanted Jensen here in the first place was to get a feel about how comfortable the possibility would even be someday in the future, maybe, and now? He’s even more uncertain than before.
What he’s definitely not expecting when he sits up and takes a look around, however, is for him to be alone in bed and the guest bed to be empty as well. In fact, there’s not really any sign that Jensen even spent the night in the smoothed-out sheets and tidy pillows. Jared knows he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed when he first wakes up, but he’s pretty certain he didn’t imagine bringing Jensen home with him.
He doesn’t bother with a shirt when he stands up, just makes a grab for clean underwear and a pair of Jeff’s flannel pajama pants that somehow ended up mixed in with some of his clothes from high school, and twists the doorknob with a yawn. The scent of pancakes and banana nut something-or-another mingles with roasting turkey, and Jared grins and scratches his stomach while entering the kitchen. “Please tell me there’s some bacon in this joint,” he says, coming up behind his mother and dropping his chin onto her shoulder. “I’m a growing boy.”
“Fat and grease doesn’t grow anything but pimples,” his mama answers, not even pausing as she flips another short stack. “And go say hi to your brother, he just got in.”
Jared blinks, squints out the window and, sure enough, there’s Jeff’s oversized red pickup parked in the driveway. A grin curls his lips; he hasn’t gotten to see Jeff the last two times he’s made it home, and he’s got a backlog of pranks and insults to get rid of. He drops a quick kiss on his mom’s cheek, stealing a piece of bacon from beside her elbow. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mama. I’m gonna go annoy Jeff now.”
She hums an agreement, but he can feel her smiling as he turns around and stops dead in his tracks. Through the crack in the door he can see Jeff’s tall form, leaning against the fireplace, and hears the sound of masculine voices interspersed with Megan’s lighter tone. Jared recognizes one of those voices all too well, and it doesn’t belong to his brother. He walks in, bacon dangling from his fingers, to find Jensen picking out a vaguely familiar song on Jeff’s beat-up old guitar.
“She’s pretty out of tune,” Jeff’s saying, and Jensen grins and nods and strums something else before catching sight of Jared and nearly snapping a string. Jeff glances over, eyes lazy and pleased as he adds, “Well, well. Look what Hollywood drug in. Or kicked out. They not tired of you yet, JT?”
Jared’s suddenly, ridiculously aware of his nakedness as he meets Jensen’s gaze and smiles, scratching the back of his head shyly. Every sarcastic comment he could make goes up in smoke and he just stands there, feeling and probably looking like an idiot. “Uh, hey,” he finally manages, throat thick with something he hopes the others perceive as sleep. “Didn’t even hear you get up, man.”
“Morning,” Jensen says, and there’s a warmth in his voice that wraps around Jared and squeezes. Jensen ducks his head, pretending to study the guitar as he fingers a chord and adds, “You were sleeping pretty hard…didn’t wanna wake you up.”
“Like you could’ve,” Megan interjects with a snort, and Jared looks over to see his little sister twirling her hair into some kind of weird tangle of knots and twists that he assumes is probably trendy, but really just looks like a big ol’ mess. Megan continues with a smirk on her pretty face, “JT slept through a snowstorm once at our cousin's. Power went out for six hours, but it was all over by the time he dragged his sorry ass out of bed.”
Jensen looks up, and all Jared can think to mumble is, “You missed a spot” as he passes by and smacks his sister on the back of the head. Megan nearly falls off the couch in an attempt to toss her brush at him, but Jared dances out of reach and collapses on the cushion next to Jensen. He’s laughing, flushed and truly happy for the first time in he can’t even remember. No stupid network bullshit to deal with, no Alexis drama, nothing but his family and Jensen and the crazy feeling that all of it might actually work out somehow.
As if reading his mind, Jensen looks over and finds Jared watching him. He dips his head in secret acknowledgment and glances quickly at Jeff and Megan before meeting Jared’s gaze again. Jared easily reads the meaning behind that expression, both an apology and a plea of I’m trying, okay? Jared nods, grinning back.
“So, who’s playing today?” he asks, hands behind his head as he sprawls out and crosses his ankles on the coffee table. “Besides the Lions.”
“Ugh,” is Megan’s assessment of the situation, complete with an eye-roll and grimace. “Y’know, there is more to Thanksgiving than football and a bunch of sweaty guys getting dirty from shoving each other into the ground.”
She sends Jensen a hopeful glance, and he smiles apologetically before saying, “Chicago and Dallas play at three.” Megan’s beleaguered sigh echoes in the room, and Jared barely resists the immature urge to stick out his tongue.
***
“Jeff, give me those sweet potatoes.”
“Jeff, please give me those sweet potatoes,” his brother corrects in a mocking voice, holding the casserole dish in question just out of Jared’s reach. Jared catches Jensen’s smirk as Jensen raises his drink to his lips to try and hide it, and mock-glares at him. His foot finds Jensen’s under the table, and he presses down with his toe just hard enough to get Jen’s attention.
“Jeff, please give me those sweet potatoes or die,” Jared says, sweetly, sliding his other foot up to cradle Jensen’s and stroking with a sharp smile on his face. Jensen tilts his head curiously, and Jared raises a challenging brow.
“God, JT, cut it out!” Megan’s irritated voice breaks in from next to Jensen, and the foot Jared’s been caressing stomps on his and jerks away. “Go sprawl somewhere else and quit playin’ with my feet!”
Jensen chokes on a mouthful of sweet tea and Jared stares at his sister, horrified. “I wasn’t—”
“Jared, sit up straight,” his mama says in exasperation, then turns sparkling eyes on Jensen, who’s still looking anywhere but at Jared, lips pressed tightly together. “So, Jensen, JT tells us you’re in TV, too.”
“Yes ma’am.” Jensen’s voice sounds more high-pitched than usual and his shoulders are shaking, and at first Jared’s afraid he’s gone and fucked it up for real, and then Jensen glances at him and he sees the laughter Jensen’s struggling to hide. “I’m filming in Vancouver right now.”
“He’s on Smallville, Mama,” Megan explains, buttering a roll and shooting Jared another disgusted you are such a loser look. “You know, the one with JT’s friend who you think’s sexy.”
Jeff and Jared and his dad – who actually takes a minute to stop eating – all turn as one to stare at her, and Jared’s mama looks slightly abashed. “He’s a very nice young man.” She titters, and then clears her throat and asks brightly, “Anyone want pie?”
Jensen excuses himself to the bathroom, and Jared waits all of two minutes before leaving the table himself. His dad and Jeff are arguing over football and Megan’s whining about some new job she wants at the mall, and Jared shuts his bedroom door to block them all out. He stares at Jensen, who’s sitting on Jared’s bed with his head in his hands. “Jensen?” he asks, hesitantly, and starts forward.
Jensen looks up, and this time there’s no mistaking the amusement coloring his features. “Your mother…has a thing for Tom,” he chokes out, hysterical, and Jared’s lips twist into a wry smile.
“She’s always been a sucker for dark hair and green eyes,” he says slyly, and sits down next to Jensen. They’re so close that he imagines he can feel the subtle shift of muscle when Jensen breathes in and out. He pitches his voice low and adds, “Me? I’m starting to have a whole new appreciation for blonds.”
Jensen turns, meets his gaze. His smile melts into a smirk as his eyes drop to Jared’s mouth and then back up. “Then there’s something I should probably tell you.” His voice sounds so serious and is so at odds with the look on his face that Jared blinks. And then Jensen leans closer, a breath away, and murmurs, “I’m really a brunet.”
“No way.”
“Highlights,” Jensen says, and now his nose and lips are nuzzling Jared’s neck. “Not sayin’ I’m a dark-haired mystery man like Welling, but I’m no golden surfer boy, either.”
Jared swallows when Jensen’s tongue curls around his ear. “I dunno,” he jokes shakily, “that’s a pretty serious…God…serious secret, Jen.” He shoots a look at the door, well-aware of the noise just beyond it. Too close.
“Well, you oughta know.” Jensen laughs quietly, runs a hand up Jared’s thigh. “The carpet doesn’t match the drapes, dude.”
“Yeah, well, we always do it when it’s too dark to tell,” Jared says without thinking, head bent to watch the slow progression of Jensen’s fingers toward his cock. Jensen’s hand stills; Jared blinks and glances up to find Jensen staring at him, thrown. “What? What is it?”
“Nothing.” There’s an edge to Jensen’s voice, almost like he’s frustrated with himself. His fingers dig into Jared’s thigh so deep Jared winces, sucking in a breath.
“Dude, what—” Jensen cuts him off, mouth bruising, and Jared grunts deep in his throat as the heel of Jensen’s palm presses hard against his dick, hips lifting helplessly. He breaks away, arching his neck when Jensen chases with his lips down Jared’s chin. “Jen…m-my family’s right outside.” Not that I really care…much.
“Didn’t bother you last night,” Jensen echoes the whisper in Jared’s head, voice soft and dangerous. He squeezes Jared harder, chuckling darkly at the whimper that escapes Jared’s throat. “In fact, I think you get off on it. Got a bit of a public places kink, Jay?”
“My bedroom ain’t public,” Jared grits out, semi-embarrassed and a helluva lot turned-on, and then he can’t help but laugh. “Are we seriously talking about this? Now?”
“Too gay?” Jensen’s voice is again completely solemn when he wraps his other hand around Jared’s neck, bringing their foreheads together, fingers still rubbing Jared’s groin. “Wanna go back in there and play footsy under the table, Jay?” There’s a beat, and then a knowing purr, “Or you want me to suck your dick?”
Jared purses his mouth, drops his eyelids. “Screw you,” he chokes out, pulling Jensen in the rest of the way and biting into his lip. “God, yes, I want you to suck me. All I ever want is y…” He trails off, frustrated and horny and desperate as Jensen gives that wicked grin that Jared both loves and hates. Because while it’s hot as hell, it’s not real. It doesn’t compare to Jensen strumming a secondhand guitar.
But Jensen’s already on his knees, licking those pretty pink lips that just belong wrapped around Jared’s cock, and jerking at Jared’s waistband. “They knock before they come in?” he asks, a breathless hint to his voice, and it takes Jared a minute to figure out what he’s even talking about.
“Um, yeah,” he manages, raising his hips enough for Jensen to pull his pants and underwear down past his ass. They fall around his ankles, and he swallows and buries his fingers in Jensen’s hair. “But this probably isn’t a really good idea.”
Jensen holds his gaze, licks a long stripe up the side of Jared’s half-hard cock, and then sucks the entire thing into his mouth. Jared stumbles over a curse he’s not entirely sure he didn’t make up on the spot, and thrusts up into Jensen’s mouth. “I…take it back. Very, very good idea.”
Jensen's tongue curls, and Jared squeezes his eyes shut. He’s bent half-over Jensen’s head, breathing heavy and palming the sides of Jensen’s face as that fucking ridiculously sexy mouth slides up and down his shaft. Jensen sucks dick like it’s a job and he wants a promotion, and it’s no time at all before Jared’s full-hard and humping.
It takes a minute for him to recognize the familiar ring through the roar in his ears, and he lets out a growl, reaching for his cell phone and staring blindly at the name on the screen before flipping it open. “What?”
“Well, Happy Thanksgiving to you, too,” Tom laughs, and Jared can hear the noise of another Vancouver party in full-swing in the background. Sure enough, Tom’s next words are, “Mike, put the chandelier down.”
“Yeah, um, happy Thanksgiving, Tom,” Jared manages, voice catching as Jensen sucks hard, noisily, lips slick and shiny as he hums deep in his throat and around Jared’s cock. Jared says, “Whu…”
“You okay, man?” There’s a lot of static, and then everything’s quiet and Tom’s voice rings out sharp and clear as a bell. “You sound sick.”
“I’m fine,” Jared laughs, a little hysterically. “Kinda busy.” He looks down to see Jensen watching him, a smirk playing along the edge of his lips before he pulls off with a wet pop, jerking Jared in slow and steady motions.
“I get ya. I won’t keep you long, I know you have thirteen homemade pecan pies to eat your way through,” Tom jokes, and Jared hisses under his breath as Jensen’s mouth returns to his dick, covering the sound up with too-loud laughter.
“Heh. Yeah.”
“Look. I just wanted to say…it’s really cool that you invited Jensen home with you,” Tom says, and all traces of laughter have disappeared from his deep voice. “I don’t know what went down, but he hasn’t been back to visit his family in years, from what I can tell. Even as far back as when he was out here filming for Dark Angel.”
Jared’s smile slips. “Really.” All of a sudden, he wishes Jensen were anywhere but here, because he wants to know what all Tom knows, and how Tom even knows Jensen’s here in the first place. Not that Jared was trying to hide it or anything, but, well, he hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling anyone, either.
“Yeah, man.” Tom sighs a little, and Jared hears him transfer the phone to his other ear. “It’s really cool that you guys’ve gotten close or whatever. Jensen’s not an easy guy to get to know.” There’s a beat of silence, and then, “God knows, I’ve tried, Mikey’s tried…although, maybe that’s why it hasn’t worked.”
Jared laughs, because it’s expected, but he can feel Jensen staring at him and abruptly feels sick and guilty. “Well, it’s all good, Tom…listen, I’ll call you later, okay? Tell Jamie I said Happy Thanksgiving, and keep Rosey out of the liquor.”
“Will do. Say hi to your family for me.”
And then the dial-tone’s in Jared’s ear, and he clicks the phone closed with a snap. He looks down, sees Jensen’s expectant features. “Um, that was Tom,” he says unnecessarily, head still filled with everything Tom had let slip.
“No shit,” Jensen drawls, still lightly stroking Jared’s dick. He bites his lip, and then says gruffly, “I told him I was gonna be here. That’s cool, right?”
“You told…” Jared trails off, and he knows how he must look, wide eyes and rounded lips as he stares at Jensen. He blinks, warmth spreading through his stomach, and nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, that’s fine, man.” He’s just repeating himself, but it’s still sinking in. “It’s cool.”
Jensen clears his throat, looking away. “Okay then.” And if Jensen’s mouth is a little too rough when he goes down on Jared again, neither of them decides to mention it. And even if Jared had wanted to, that talented mouth all too quickly robs him of the thought.
***
All too soon, Jared’s packed and saying goodbye to his family. Predictably, Megan’s the one to burst into tears and demand he write every day – like he’s eighteen and heading off to Los Angeles for the first time, hoping his agent’s right and that he’ll have a steady job and a roof over his head in no time. Jared hugs her and affectionately rolls his eyes, grinning at Jensen over her head.
When he pulls back, he touches her on the end of the nose, mimicking E.T.’s alien drawl. “Beee goood.”
Megan sniffles and shoves him playfully. “Dork.”
“Jensen, it was so nice to meet you,” his mama says, and Jared turns in time to see Jensen caught up in a warm embrace, expression nonplussed. But Jared can see the hint of pleasure lightening Jensen’s eyes, and his own smile widens as his mom adds, “You come back any time, okay?”
A heavy hand comes down on his shoulder, and Jeff pulls him up close to say, “So, when you gonna find a pretty little thing and settle down, JT?” His brother’s amused voice warrants a punch to the gut, but Jared’s just too damn happy to do it.
“Who says I haven’t?” is all he says, ignoring Jeff’s surprised expression and moving to hug his mom. “I’ll call soon,” he says into her neck, smelling powder and perfume and already feeling a bit homesick.
Jensen’s quiet during the ride to the airport, but it’s a comfortable silence, and Jared catches his gaze several times and smiles. They check their bags curbside, and then spend twenty minutes getting through security before deciding to grab a drink at T.G.I. Friday’s. Jensen orders a beer, and Jared opts for something girly with a curly straw that’ll probably end up turning his teeth blue. But it makes Jensen laugh when he orders it, a real laugh, so he figures it’s worth the trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth afterward.
“So, when does filming start up again?” Jared says, stuffing a cheese fry in his mouth and trying not to think of how unfair it is that Jensen looks so fucking good in the low, unflattering light of the restaurant.
Jensen’s sprawled back in his chair, sucking a drop of beer from his upper lip. “Next week.” His eyes pass over Jared, lazy and heavy-lidded. “I had fun, Jay.” His voice slides over Jared, slow and smooth.
“I’m glad.” Jared can hear the husk in his own voice, knows he’s probably giving everything away in the way he’s staring at Jensen, but he can’t help it. And this time, there’s no mistake when he slouches low in his seat and nudges Jensen’s foot with his own. And maybe it’s the alcohol, but he feels bold, and blunt, enough to add, “Gonna miss me?”
Jensen’s lips curve and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Gonna give me a reason to?”
“You need a reason?” Jared’s playing along, but there’s a gravity to the question that he needs Jensen to acknowledge.
Jensen’s watching him, and Jared can’t read anything going on behind those green eyes. When it comes, Jensen’s voice is husky and low. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, Jared.”
And it’s sappy as all fuck, but Jared can’t help but hope that maybe this year Jensen’s found himself something to be thankful for.