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Amy, Megan's Maid of Honor and life-long best friend, picks him up from the airport. After a car ride full of their typical, harmless flirting and teasing, she drops him off at his parents’ place where his brother meets him with open arms.
“Mom and Pop took the kids out to a movie,” Jeff explains when Jared makes a note of the empty house. “Maggie’s upstairs taking a nap.”
“Meg’s room?”
“My room,” he corrects with a smirk.
Jared heads upstairs to deposit his bag, a fresh wave of familiarity crashing in on him as he steps into his old bedroom. Fifteen years and the walls are still a faded navy blue, dozens of nicks and dents outlining where his tattered poster of Troy Aikman once hung. The windowsill still holds a few of his school trophies -- 'Most Improved' in grade six, 'Most Valuable Player' in grade eleven -- and his bed, with its scratched and battered wooden posts, still takes up one corner. But the bedspread atop it is a pastel green and ivory instead of the dark blue he'd had all through high school, and the tasteful matching throw pillows are a far cry from the scatter of clothes and books he'd always kept piled high. A few framed family photos line the opposite wall, new additions since he moved out, though they're all recognizable from years spent in different locales.
It's a strange mix of new and old, his mother's decorative touch filling in the spaces of what he'd left behind. And it's like this every time he visits, this weird reminder that, even here, even back in the house he grew up in, nothing ever really stays the same.
He grabs a shower and takes a little extra time shaving, carefully making sure not to cut himself, examines his neck and cheeks and chin with a little more scrutiny than normal.
There's a text message waiting on his phone when he's done and he knows who it's from even before checking.
'How was the flight?'
Grinning, Jared taps out a response and then finishes getting ready for the evening, stepping into a pair of dark, clean slacks and pulling on a blue button-up. He dons a jacket and tie to round out the ensemble and then takes a picture of himself with his phone, ends of the tie held up and out like a noose, his eyes crossed and tongue hanging out. He sends it to Jensen with the message, 'Don't you wish you were here?'
He's halfway down the stairs when his phone chimes in with Jensen's response: 'Oh yeah, that's hot.'
Jared grins.
:::
Once his parents return with Leah and Ethan, the rest of the evening is a whirlwind of activity. It's the first Jared's been here since moving to Washington and, though he hadn't seen much of his family even while in Dallas, there's something about being two time zones away that makes it somehow more profound. As a result, they spend the first half hour loudly hugging and laughing and getting caught up on each others' lives before heading to the church for rehearsal.
There he meets Jeremy's parents for the first time, his mother having flown in from New York, his father from Ohio. Jeremy's sisters are both bridesmaids and Jared gets paired with the youngest, Chelsea, for the procession.
"You're way bigger than you look on TV," she tells him as they stand waiting in the back hall. "Like, even without the pads. How does that work?"
Jared laughs. "It probably helps that there aren't any 300 pound linemen in here."
"I feel like I should have stilts for this."
"Want me to walk on my knees?"
She laughs then, her cheeks turning a cute pink as she says, "Oh, that's just a dirty joke waiting to happen," and Jared is suddenly sure their families are going get along just fine.
They go through the whole ordeal a couple times, make sure everyone knows their places and individual roles. Jared's job is basically to stand between his brother and one of Jeremy's college buddies and try not to cry. That's easy enough at the rehearsal, but he has the feeling he'll have more difficulty during the actual ceremony.
Dinner afterward is held at Chama Gaucha where Jared fills up on every single kind of meat available and then some. Jeremy's family -- all of whom are visiting San Antonio for the very first time -- appear to love the choice of restaurant, each of them happily digging into their own plates in between attacking the salad bar. Jared sits near the end of the table next to his seven year old niece, listening intently as she tells him about her own future wedding, every detail already decided right down to the rainbow wedding dress and candy bouquet.
She's the only person all evening who doesn't ask him about Jensen.
:::
He's up past midnight talking with his brother and sister-in-law. They've all had a little to drink, still warm and content from dinner and, with the kids tucked into bed, the house is quiet.
It's the first Jared's sat and had an actual, full conversation with his brother since coming out, but that's still one topic carefully avoided. Instead, they talk about Jeff's practice and Maggie's work at the restaurant. She's thinking more and more about opening her own place, but wants to wait until Leah and Ethan are both a little older, but she's been checking out a few areas, getting a feel for the future. They ask him how he's adjusting to Seattle, what he thinks of the team and the organization, how Sadie and Harley are adapting to the move. And Jared gives them the same answer he's given everyone else, something that's not quite the truth, but near enough to not matter.
Unlike the others, his brother doesn't look entirely convinced, but he doesn't push it. A part of Jared wishes he would, but he can admit that a larger part is relieved. Over the course of the past several months, Jared's life has been all but completely reduced to his sexuality; it's nice to have one weekend where no one makes it an issue.
They head to bed a short time later and Jared pulls his phone out as he slips under the sheets, his old bed frame groaning under his weight.
Jensen picks up on the third ring, voice low and quiet. He doesn't sound like he's been sleeping.
"So, you ready for the game?" Jared asks after the initial hellos, relaxing at the sound of Jensen's voice.
"Yeah, sure," Jensen replies. "As ready as we're gonna be anyway. Got a good feeling about this one."
"Porter's starting?
"'Course."
"Then you'll be fine," Jared says, lips curled in a slight grin.
"Easy for you to say. You gonna watch?"
"Absolutely. And I'll be rootin' for you guys the whole way."
"Only 'cause it's Phoenix," Jensen says, smile clear in his tone.
That's not the whole reason, of course, and they both know it, but Jared doesn't argue. "Meg sends her love," he says instead, staring up at his old ceiling. "She's bummed you couldn't make it."
Jensen sighs. "Yeah, well if she'd scheduled it for my bye week instead of yours we wouldn't be having this problem. Woman's gotta work on her priorities."
They talk for awhile longer, Jared boasting about the delicious food at the rehearsal dinner while filling Jensen in on Jeremy's family. Jensen talks a little bit about Logan's girlfriend, his first, and how Brodie's doing in school, but he doesn't mention anything about the team. Not Aldis or Jeff or Porter. And Jared doesn't ask. There'll be time for that later, when they're not in the thick of the season, when it doesn't feel too much like peeking behind enemy lines.
"I'll call you tomorrow," Jared says after a particularly ferocious yawn and Jensen laughs quietly.
"Correction - you'll drunk dial me tomorrow."
Jared grins, his eyes already drifting closed. "Yeah, that too."
He can practically see Jensen rolling his eyes through the phone line, but his voice is nothing but fond as he says, "Night, Jay."
:::
The wedding day is exactly as chaotic as Jared expects, a flurry of nervous energy from the very start. He gets changed at the church with the rest of the groomsmen, kills some time checking and double-checking his own cummerbund and bow tie as Jeff does all he can to calm the anxious groom by sharing stories of his own wedding day jitters. The bridesmaids all look stunning in flowing maroon, their hair and make-up done by a friend of Megan's. Even Leah has her decorated in little white and maroon bows and she beams up at Jared, flower basket hanging from one arm.
"Here, Uncle Jared," she says, reaching up to give him a single white flower petal. "Don't lose it, okay?"
"Aren't you supposed to save these for later?"
"There are lots in here," Leah tells him with a decisive air. "No one'll miss just one."
Grinning, Jared slides the petal into his pants pocket and then reaches down to pick her up. She's way too big to be carried, but she squeals with delight all the same, especially when Jared tucks her under one arm and hauls her through the church corridor, her little legs kicking the whole way. He passes Maggie on the way, her lips twisted in a grin and one eyebrow arched as Leah calls out, "Mommy!!" with a sharp laugh and flail.
"Just remember," Maggie says, "You break her, you bought her."
The groomsmen are corralled a short time later for pictures and then the entire wedding party is dragged into their spots for the main event. Up until this point, Jared's done a decent job of appearing calm, taking the day in stride like a good big brother, but as the music rings through the chapel, Jared feels the nervousness start to wind tight.
It's not entirely unlike game day, that sudden rush of adrenaline before sprinting down the tunnel and breaking out onto the field. Except here there's no way to expel it with a helmet clash or chest bump, no rousing team cheer or field fireworks. Just an organ and an aisle and a whole lot of smiling, expectant faces.
Taking a slow breath, Jared pushes through, holding his elbow out for Chelsea as they meet, her arm linking easily through his before they head down the aisle. Every pew in the church is full, though Jared only really looks at the people right at the ends, their bodies twisted to follow the procession. His mother is up at the very front, a Kleenex already clutched in one hand and eyes a watery red. She smiles when their eyes meet and Jared has to quell the impulse to reach out and squeeze her hand as they walk past.
The rest of the wedding party makes their way down, Leah bringing up the tail end with her flower petals. Jared remembers the one still in his pocket just as the music starts to swell, his breath catching as his father and sister step out into the aisle.
Megan's always been a pretty girl, despite the many times Jared claimed otherwise when they were both younger. Here, though... here she is stunning. So undeniably a woman, no longer a little girl with skinned knees and a toothless smile. Here she is tall and capable and graceful and everything she's been for years, even if Jared hasn't really wanted to acknowledge it. She doesn't need Jared's protection from bullies anymore, or help with her math homework, or a ride to the Spring Formal. Here she is strong and beautiful and clearly so utterly happy with the man she has chosen as her husband.
Jared can feel his eyes start to sting even before his father presses a kiss to Megan's cheek and he fights it as best he can, blinking away the wetness as the preacher's warm voice calls the crowd to attention.
Not for the first time, Jared thinks back on the day he'd been standing up where Jeremy is now, Megan a bridesmaid and Jeff the Best Man. He remembers the nervousness and excitement and terror, the thrill of taking Genevieve's hand and slipping that ring on her finger, promising his future to her. He remembers the way she shook a little when she reached up to kiss him, the puff of laughter against his lips and the tears in her dark eyes. Remembers how much he had loved her in that moment, how much he had meant every single word of those vows.
It's been eight years since that day, four since the divorce. Jared would be lying if he claimed there isn't still a small part of him that wishes he could've tried harder to make it work. Maybe a small part that believes his life would've been easier if he had. Simpler.
Jared pulls in a slow breath and lets his gaze wander over the crowd as the preacher speaks of unconditional love and devotion, feels something catch and seize in his chest when he sees one striking face in the fifth row, familiar green eyes meeting his own.
His mind immediately floods with questions, but he still can't help the heat of his blood or the smile that cracks his face.
And Jensen grins right back, looking more than a little smug as he shakes his head and then nods at Megan.
The rest of the ceremony, Jared is somewhat ashamed to admit, is kind of a blur.
:::
There are a few more wedding pictures to suffer through before they can leave for the reception. Jared's anxious the entire time, gaze constantly darting to the crowd of lingering wedding guests in between each pose, searching for one person and one person only. Once they're cut loose Jensen's nowhere to be found, and Jared nearly wonders if he'd been imagining seeing Jensen at all.
At least until he pulls out his phone and finds a text message.
Heading to the party. Find me.
Luckily, the reception hall is only a few blocks away and Jared steps through the huge double doors on alert, eyes scanning every table. He's not going to make a scene here, no swooping, cinematic slow-motion reunion or anything, but this will mark the first time he's seen Jensen in months. Television interviews, game broadcasts and video calls notwithstanding, of course. He feels he's a little bit entitled to some excitement.
Jared finally spots him sitting with an older woman at a table near the back, dressed in a dark suit and tie Jared recognizes on sight. He's leaning forward, head tilted slightly as he listens, lips stretched in a warm smile as he nods along in reply to whatever it is the woman is telling him.
When he glances up again, he catches Jared's eye and his entire expression changes, lights up in a way that makes Jared's heart skip and blood run warm. Jensen turns away then to speak to the woman, clearly making a polite exit. He pats her hand as he stands and Jared manages to look away from Jensen long enough to catch her smiling.
"So, uh. Surprise," Jensen says when Jared meets him at the edge of the designated dance area.
Jared laughs, fingers itching to touch, though he manages to hold himself back. "What the hell are you doing here? How?"
Jensen just shrugs, grinning. "Eric's a softie."
"What about Phoenix?"
"Game's not 'til 2:00. I'm catching an early flight tomorrow morning; should get there in plenty of time."
"You're insane."
"Dude, are you kidding me? Insane is getting my balls ripped off by your sister for missing her wedding."
Jared doesn't believe for a second that Megan really has anything to do with it, but he isn't about to say as much. There's no need. Instead, he just laughs again, lets the reality of having Jensen right in front of him for the first time since June really settle in.
Says, "God, it's good to see you," on a heavy exhale and smiles wider when Jensen doesn't hesitate at all with his reply:
"Yeah, you too."
:::
Megan is clearly as surprised to see Jensen as Jared had been, her eyes lighting up when they wander over. She practically throws herself on him, arms tight around his neck before pulling back to grin up at him.
"I'm getting a dance with you," she says. It's not a question by any means and Jensen hazards a slightly nervous glance to her husband.
Jeremy just shrugs. "I'm cool with it. But I got dibs on one with Jared."
Jared sputters out a laugh then, face heating at the subtle acknowledgment. His and Jensen's relationship is no secret, of course. Hell, it'd been headline news around the world when it'd first broken and now, eight months later, it's still definitely a hot topic. Everybody knows. Everybody.
Despite that, Jared still can't shake the feeling that it's something to hide.
Luckily, Jensen takes it in stride, his lips curling into an amused grimace as he shakes his head. "Trust me, unless you want to end up with a broken foot and a black eye, you really do not want to dance with him."
And just like that, with a quick elbow to Jensen's arm in retaliation, some of Jared's anxiety slips away.
"He speaks the truth," Megan says, grinning smugly at Jared. "Make sure to give him a wide berth."
"A very wide berth."
"Y'all are just jealous," Jared says with a growing smile, letting his arm rest warm against Jensen's. "I got moves, I'll show you."
"Please don't," Megan replies and Jared sticks his tongue out at her.
Thirty minute later, Jared ditches the tux jacket and tugs off the bow tie, leaves the ends dangling as he unsnaps the top two buttons of his shirt. As promised, he gets a dance with Jeremy when Megan comes to collect hers from Jensen, and the rest of the wedding guests egg them on, hollering and whistling as Jared shows off his moves to the beat of Bon Jovi. They eat the cake later, wash it down with wine, and then Jared's right back on the dance floor, dragging his mother out this time when the music turns a little more mellow.
He's winded and sweaty and his mother reaches up to brush damp hair off his forehead, her nose wrinkled. She drops her hand then, resting it warm and familiar against his side as her face softens into a fond smile and she says, "He makes you very happy, doesn't he?"
It's not at all what Jared's expecting and he darts a glance to where Jensen's mixing with a group of Jeremy's buddies. Jensen looks at ease, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his slacks, a glass of wine in the other and he's laughing and nodding along with the conversation. But Jared knows him well enough now to see the act, his shoulders still a little too tight and smile pinched. Not that he thinks Jensen's in misery -- he's not that good an actor -- but Jared can recognize the signs of careful posturing for what it is, the ones nobody else would notice.
There's only one reason Jensen's even here, after all. Or, well, maybe two. But even today, Jared's pretty sure he still ranks higher than his little sister. Jensen's uncomfortable and out of his element, but he's here. For Jared.
Jensen doesn't notice Jared watching before Jared looks away to meet his mother's eyes again. Her gaze is questioning, watching him carefully as he manages a small smile. "Yeah, he really does," he manages eventually, feeling the truth of it down to his core.
"Even after everything?" she asks. It's not an accusation or an argument, Jared can see that much. Just quiet concern.
And Jared nods, glancing very briefly over to Jensen one more time as he says, "It's worth it."
This time Jensen sees him.
:::
The party winds down shortly after Megan and Jeremy leave, Jared lingering only a little while longer to give his goodbyes to the family members he hasn't seen in years and likely won't see again until the next wedding. Or funeral.
He leaves with Jensen, the both of them catching a cab back to his hotel, and it feels weirdly blatant. Like Jared's getting away with telling his parents he's checking into a hotel with his girlfriend after prom. But no on questions it.
In fact, his mother just wraps one small hand around Jensen's wrist and pulls him into a hug. "It was nice seeing you again, Jensen," she says, her other hand lightly touching the side of his neck in that way she's done with every one of her children for as long as Jared can remember. "We're so glad you could come."
Jensen's answering smile doesn't look at all strained or wary as he replies, "Thank you, ma'am. So am I."
"You have a safe flight, y'hear? And best of luck with your game tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
Jared doesn't realize he's holding his breath until after his father echoes the sentiment, grabbing Jensen's hand in a warm, firm shake. "Keep that Porter kid in line, will you?" he says, eyes sparkling. "You boys got a good chance this year."
"We do, absolutely," Jensen replies before glancing over at Jared. "Even without this superstar at the helm."
"Imagine how well you'd be doing with me," Jared says, grinning.
If he's honest, it does hurt to not be a Cowboy anymore. Even now, several months since leaving and coming to terms with the whole thing, there's a weird ache there. But he's still in the league, still a starter and key player. And playing for any team at all is better than not playing for anyone, so he really can't complain too much. He knew this was a possibility when he made his decision and he doesn't regret it. Nothing he can't handle.
"Yeah, we'd probably have way more interceptions under our belt."
"And way more touchdowns," Jared shoots right back.
It's truth as much as arrogance; Jared really is having one of the best seasons of his career. And, though it pains him to admit, there's every chance he wouldn't be doing quite so well if he were still with the Cowboys. The chemistry in Seattle just works for his style.
But he can't help being a little bit smug.
Jensen only gives a rough snort in reply and shakes his head. But he doesn't argue.
:::
Neither of them are really drunk, but Jared at least is pleasantly buzzed. He's humming a Prince song under his breath as they make their way through the hotel lobby, flashing a bright, shit-eating grin when Jensen levels him with a faux glare.
"What?" Jared says as the elevator dings its arrival. "It's in my head."
"Doesn't mean you have to put it in mine."
Jared's grin only widens. "That's what she said."
In the glossy metal of the elevator walls, he can see Jensen roll his eyes along with attempting to hide a smirk. And it's not like Jared's lying. The song -- Prince's "Kiss" -- is the last they'd been subjected to by the cab driver and it's one of those Jared can somehow remember every word to despite not having heard it in at least five years. And it's catchy, damnit. It's not his fault.
So he continues, his voice slipping into shaky falsetto as he hooks a finger in Jensen's belt and tugs.
"You don't have to be coo-oo-ool to rule my world," he sings, drawing out the syllables as Jensen growls a laugh and tries to shove him away. He fits his hands over Jensen's hips and pulls him closer with a grin, glancing up briefly to check on the floor numbers as Jensen puts up only the barest struggle. "Ain't no par-tic-u-lar guy I'm more com-pat-i-ble with," he continues, his hips swaying into action, which in turn makes Jensen try to plant an elbow in his side. "Just want your extra time and your--" Quickly burying his face in the curve of Jensen's neck, he makes three sloppy kiss noises right above warm skin and squeals, "Kiss!" as Jensen barks out a laugh and squirms in his hold.
"You're so fuckin' obnoxious," he says, but he's smiling, crows feet out in full force as the elevator slows to a stop.
"You love me," Jared replies, following Jensen out into the hall. "And Prince. Don't deny it, man, I know your secrets. You have that TAFKAP symbol on your left ass cheek, remember? I've seen it."
Jensen glances back then, eyebrow arched as he unlocks the door.
Jared just grins and waggles an eyebrow as Jensen fights a grin and steps inside.
He's not drunk. Really. Just loose and happy from the party, riding the high of good food and great company, the echoes of laughter and music still thrumming under his skin, feet sore and muscles aching pleasantly. By all rights, he should be exhausted right now; it's been a long damn day, after all.
But Jensen is here. Jensen is here. In San Antonio.
For him.
Jensen's working on slipping out of his jacket when Jared crowds in close, chest pressed to Jensen's back. He hums another few bars of the song and Jensen laughs around a grumble as he pulls away, tossing dark fabric across the foot of the bed.
"Aw, come on," Jared says, grinning as he curls a hand around Jensen's forearm. "Dance with me."
"No."
"Please?" He ducks his head a little and sticks out his bottom lip.
"No."
Jared throws in the eyebrows and cocks his head to one side.
"Dude, there's no music."
"Yes, there is! I'm singing."
Jensen only smirks. "My point stands."
"Jenseeeeen," Jared whines then, taking a step forward and tugging at the same time. "C'mon, man. You flew all the way out here and you're not even gonna dance with me? Not once?"
"Dude, you are so drunk," Jensen says, laughing.
And Jared's grin widens because he really honestly isn't, but it might not hurt to pretend in this case. "So what if I am," he says, stepping in closer, his hand smoothing over the curve of Jensen's elbow. "Just means I won't remember in the morning and you can pretend it never happened."
"It also means you're even less coordinated than normal and, unlike you, I actually need to be able to walk tomorrow."
Jared snorts at that, his other hand falling to Jensen's waist. "One dance," he says and, before Jensen can offer up yet another protest, pulls him in to start a slow sway. "I promise I'll be careful."
"You could at least take off your shoes first."
Pulling back a little, Jared grins and shrugs, and then settles his hands on Jensen's waist to balance himself as he does just that, right shoe first and then the left.
"Better?"
Jensen huffs a laugh. "At least until the stench starts making the paint peel."
"Hey. Beggars can't be choosers."
"Says the guy pleading for a stupid dance when there isn't even any music," Jensen counters and Jared grunts at the sharp feel of Jensen's finger poking at his stomach. "Loser."
Still grinning, Jared just shrugs again and slides his hand down to Jensen's hip, thumb brushing over the leather of Jensen's belt, still swaying back and forth in an easy, slow rhythm. "Should've asked back at the party," he whispers. It's meant to be an excuse or a teasing little jibe, but even he can hear the weird timber in his voice that makes it sound more like a confession.
Jensen has one palm pressed to Jared's upper chest as he leans back to meet Jared's eyes.
He doesn't say anything, though. And neither does Jared, the seconds ticking by slowly in the silent room. There's a question in Jensen's expression, evident in the curve of his brow and the turn of his lips, but he doesn't voice it. And Jared doesn't really need him to. It's a little unnerving. He can feel his stomach twist under the weight of Jensen's stare and he starts to wonder if he should apologize or put a little more distance between them, but then Jensen is leaning up and in to press a soft, dry kiss to his lips and Jared has to swallow back a whimper as he sways into it.
Jensen lingers there, hands tucked under Jared's tux jacket to curve around his sides, their noses bumping as they both slow to a stop. One kiss leads into another and another, each one chaste and gentle until Jared can't handle it anymore and he lifts a hand to Jensen's jaw, cradles and guides and takes. Jensen opens up to him easily, head tipping back to share breath, tongues meeting in a smooth, insistent slide and Jared's hand curls around the nape of Jensen's neck, gripping tight as the kiss turns harder and hungrier, the culmination of months and months of whispered want over a telephone line and hours of not-enough.
It's Jensen who pulls away first, Jared immediately leaning in to follow for more, not wanting it to stop.
"My plane leaves at six," Jensen murmurs, his eyes lowered and locked on Jared's lips.
Jared nods, takes a second to breathe again before whispering an, "I know," against Jensen's mouth, the sentence lost in another kiss.
He isn't stupid; he knows what Jensen's getting at. And he understands. If they get started now, there will be no stopping and, not only does Jensen have an early flight to catch, but he actually has to be coherent throughout the day. Unlike Jared, he has a job to do, a game to win.
But then Jensen whines and arches forward, fingers curled in Jared's dress shirt and teeth scraping his lip and they both know it's just been too damn long.
:::
The first time is right there against the dresser, Jensen with his ass up on the edge, Jared between his spread thighs. Jensen's fingers dig into his shoulders as Jared jacks them both with one hand, mouths sealed in heated, hard kisses the entire time. It's Jensen who comes first, panting his release against Jared's cheek, streaks of come painting Jared's fingers and belly, splattering his shirt. And Jared follows soon after when Jensen curls his fingers over Jared's fist and breathes hot against his mouth, "Fuck, fuck, Jay. C'mon. Need to see it. Let me see you come."
They make it to the bed for the second round. And manage to lose the clothes.
After, sweaty and winded and splayed face up with Jensen draped over him, Jared turns his head to check the clock on the night stand.
"Shit," he grunts, the word melting into a breathy laugh as he skims his fingers along Jensen's sweat-damp side.
Jensen grunts in question, his mouth otherwise occupied with Jared's neck, tongue slick and warm on his skin. There is absolutely no way Jared can get it up again tonight, but just having Jensen blanketing him, painting his skin in soft, teasing touches, is amazing on its own. He would happily do just this for the rest of his life if given the chance.
"It's one in the morning. You have to get up in, like, three hours."
Jensen groans then, the sound muffled against Jared's throat. "I knew bringing you here was a bad idea."
"Bringing me here was an awesome idea," Jared says with a quiet laugh. "Not my fault you have no self control."
"Yes, because you're so noble."
"I'm not the one who has to work tomorrow."
"You could've tried being a gentleman," Jensen replies, grunting quietly as he readjusts, an elbow knocking into Jared's ribs, followed by a knee to the thigh as he rolls off to settle on his side. "Just left it at a kiss instead of shoving your hand down my pants."
Jared snorts. "You were the one begging me to touch you."
"Lies."
"I just wanted a dance!"
It's Jensen's turn to laugh this time, white teeth flashing as his hand smooths over Jared's stomach. "And by dance you mean fuck."
Grinning, he rolls slightly, fitting his knee between Jensen's as they press chest to chest. "You know, I don't always have ulterior motives."
"Mmm," Jensen replies, doubt still clear as his lips brush Jared's jaw. "You wanted to fuck."
Jared muffles his own laugh against the bow of Jensen's lips, lets it melt it into a soft, pleased moan as Jensen's tongue teases his own. There's no greater purpose to it this time, no greater need than just this. Each other. Jared breathes in as Jensen breathes out and their mouths move together fluidly, the silence of the room only broken by soft, wet sounds of their lips and quiet, hushed moans.
Eventually, they do actually sleep.
:::
The alarm on Jensen's phone goes off at 4:07 and they both doze another ten minutes before Jensen drags himself to the shower. Jared gets dressed in his tux (save the cummerbund, jacket and bow tie) before packing up what he can of Jensen's clothes. Twenty minutes later they're in a cab on the way to the airport.
They don't say much during the ride, lack of sleep and the stillness of the early hour taking its toll.
Jared pays the driver once they get to the airport and follows Jensen inside. He's already checked in so it's just a straight shot to the security line and Jensen glances at his watch before shifting his bag from one hand to the other.
"So," Jared says, trying to ignore the all too familiar weight in his gut. "You can at least sleep some on the plane, right?"
Jensen's lips curve into a bare smile. "Pretty sure nothing's gonna stop me."
"You'll be okay for the game?"
"Gonna have to be," Jensen says and Jared frowns, something like guilt mixing in with the general ache. And Jensen just offers a small smile in return. "I'll be fine, man. Seriously. A little sleep, a little coffee... maybe a little Red Bull. It's cool."
"I'm not taking the blame if you lose."
"Oh, like hell you're not."
Laughing, Jared ducks his head. "Yeah, this is all just a part of my elaborate plan for NFC domination."
"Knew it all along."
"And yet you came anyway."
Jensen's lips twitch into another slow grin then, eyebrow arched as his voice dips low. "Couple times as far as I remember."
Jared laughs, face heating slightly at both the memory and Jensen's teasing tone. Jensen grins right along with him, watching Jared with a quiet fondness that seems to hide his exhaustion.
Around them, the airport is slowly coming to life, more and more people flooding through on the way to their gates. Most walk right on by without sparing them a glance, some lingering back with their own loved ones to exchange goodbyes. A few stop as they pass and Jared looks up to catch them watching. Recognizing.
Unsettled, Jared's smile falters a little and he looks away to focus on Jensen once more, all too aware of their growing audience.
"Call me after the game, huh? And say hi to the guys for me."
Jensen's lips quirk into a small grin. "How 'bout you do that yourself come January?"
"Ah, but see, that would mean you guys actually making the playoffs."
"Oh, we'll make it," Jensen replies, head tilting as he takes a half a step closer. "We got the best QB in the league, after all."
Jared laughs then, low and quick. "You think so, huh?"
"Damn right."
"The stats would say you're full of shit."
"Yeah, well," Jensen says, tipping his head back to grin up at Jared. "We both know better."
Jared is still completely aware of where they are and how many people are staring at them, treating them like nothing more than zoo animals or side show attractions. It's not like being at the wedding, the stares here not from friends and family but complete strangers. Strangers who only know about them through the filter of television and internet, who think they're informed purely due to the bullshit fed to them by the media.
And, unlike at the wedding, Jared really doesn't give a shit what they think.
Which is why it isn't difficult for him to lean into Jensen's space this time, grinning from ear to ear. "If we meet you there we'll kick your ass. Fair warning," he says, tone teasing as the world narrows down to just the two of them again.
"Big talk," Jensen replies. Jared doesn't miss the way his gaze darts down to Jared's lips.
"You wanna make a bet on it?"
Jensen arches an eyebrow, head cocked. "Terms?"
Shrugging, Jared leans in close enough his nose bumps Jensen's. "Give me some time," he says, barely more than a whisper against Jensen's parted lips. "I'm sure I can come up with something."
It's Jensen who spares a glance around them this time, eyes briefly darting to his left where a middle-aged woman with a large pink handbag stands unabashedly watching them. But instead of pulling back like Jared expects, Jensen releases a quiet breath and turns his attention back on Jared. Kisses him soundly on the lips.
It's quick, lingering for only two or three seconds before he pulls back, hand pressed warmly against Jared's chest. "Just let me know."
When he leans in for another kiss, Jared curls his hands over Jensen's elbows and holds him there, eyes slipping shut. They manage to keep it chaste, nothing more than three, four soft, dry kisses before Jared pulls back, reaches up to brush his thumb along Jensen's bottom lip.
"I'll call when I get to Seattle," he says.
Jensen nods as he steps back, hand once again wrapped around the strap of his bag before giving Jared's arm a playful bump with his elbow and turning to join the security line.
Fighting a laugh, Jared steps back and watches him go. He can still feel the heavy weight of stares on him, but he ignores them, utterly focused on one man only. This part feels entirely too familiar already, this business of saying goodbye. He won't see Jensen again for another few months. No Thanksgiving visits for them, no Christmas or New Year's. Nothing more for them but phone calls and video chats and text message. There is a chance they'll meet in the playoffs and hell, won't every sports analyst, gossip columnist and gay rights advocate in the country just love that? The fact is, their relationship isn't going to get any easier any time soon. In fact, if anything, it will only get harder.
And maybe they won't make it, maybe it really will prove impossible. Maybe the distance and their careers and the competitive nature of their sport will prove to be the insurmountable obstacles so many have claimed since the day the Cowboys cut him loose.
But hell if Jared's about to go down easy.
"Hey!" he calls out as Jensen nears the first TSA agent, passport and ticket in hand. Jensen glances back over his shoulder, eying Jared curiously.
And Jared grins wide, feels a swell of hope mix in with the ache and barely thinks about the small staring crowd around him at all as he says, "I love you. Good luck."
Jensen looks startled for a second. Surprised. But then he smiles slowly, shoulders relaxing as he gives Jared a nod. Says, "Yeah, you too."
Breathing in deep, Jared slips his hand into his pocket, fingertips finding the flower petal still there from the day before. He runs his thumb over the broad side of it like a worry stone and thinks maybe this is all they really need: just love and a little bit of luck.
Maybe they'll get through it just fine.
end.