InsaneJournal

Fic: Love's Eternal Fire (Jared/Jensen, PG)
I am spamming, I know, and I linked to this yesterday, but well, if I don't archive now while I remember, I probably never will.

Also, please, stay tuned for the next installment in Jared and Jensen's beautiful story: Love's Eternal hope. *nod*

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Title: Love's Eternal Fire
Author: luzdeestrellas
Pairing: Jared/Jensen

Summary: He does what they've both seen coming for months now.

Notes: Thanks to merryish for the beta and for titling so hilariously helpfully. All remaining mistakes are mine.


Love's Eternal Fire

"I'm just saying," Jared says, as he uncrosses his legs and stretches them out for miles, "it's not your fault you can't hold up like you used to." He raises his hand, stained green from the way he's been propping himself up on the grass with it, counts off on his fingers, just like Kripke does when he's outlining episodes for them. "For one, you're kind of old now. I mean, thirty isn't exactly dead, or anything, but it's getting there, right? And for two, you're a city boy. Wuss is built right in. And for three." He pauses to drink his beer, mouth coming away wet. He lets the pause stretch on, and then he says, exactly like Jensen knows he will, "And for three, you're a little on the shrimpy side."

Jensen kicks out lazily, smiling, bare foot only just connecting with Jared's leg. "If insulting me helps someone of your size adapt to the world, then I'm here for you, man." He doesn't take his foot away, feels Jared's muscles shift as he digs his toes into the grass.

It's the first decent day they've had since shooting started again, warmth clinging to Jensen's skin, and sun that's maybe a little too bright for Jensen to look at, given that last night, he drank his body weight in every form of alcohol Canada had to offer. He isn't really looking at it anyway. He's watching Jared instead.

Used to be, he got a little lost, a little stupid, when he looked too long. Used to be, the curve of Jared's mouth was distracting as all fuck, and the way he stretched out and the world got smaller made Jensen hard enough to pose a serious danger to himself. Now, it's just Jared, still kind of orange from all the tanning the makeup crew insisted on, an easy warmth in Jensen's gut when he smiles like he's daring anyone not to smile right back at him. It's something more--something deeper--when he watches the way, even when Jared's sprawled, boneless and content, he still talks at Jensen like it's the most important thing he can think to do, like it's a full body sport he'd better win at.

It should be more terrifying this way, and it is. Except that it's not, because Jared knows that the first song Jensen ever learned to play properly on the guitar was Leaving on a Jet Plane, that he still has to play it when he goes back home, and Jensen knows that Jared watches every goddamn cooking show he can find and still can't boil water without three counties having to evacuate first. Because it's Jared, and when Jensen's too drunk to remember how the whole standing up thing works, Jared's right there, saying stupid things like, I've got you, and if you throw up over the carpet, I'm gonna get Harley to eat you.

"And of course," Jared says, in the tone of someone who's been talking for hours, when he's been talking for, at most, thirty seconds, "then the Marshmallow Man ate all the children, and the world ended."

"Seriously?" Jensen asks, grinning. "The Marshmallow Man?"

"Dude, shut up. That movie was traumatising." He looks all serious, like he's talking about politics or maybe even football, only the effect is ruined by the way his hair needs washing and keeps flopping into his eyes. "Food isn't meant to be, like, possessed and shit." He sits up and leans into Jensen, personal space for other people, hands reaching for Jensen's face to tilt his head back. "You were miles away. Do you need to lie down? I have some lavender bath stuff and smelling salts if that would help. I know recovery is harder at your--"

"Jared," Jensen says, "I am thinking of beating you to death."

But he doesn't. He does what they've both seen coming for months now. He wraps his fingers in Jared's t-shirt--the one Jared ripped while they were painting his living room and won't throw away--and tugs Jared closer. Jared's eyes go wide, and Jensen's close enough to feel the way he stops breathing. Jensen's heart stutters right along with it, because he didn't even think, just moved, and maybe he's fucked everything up. But then Jared lights up, dimples so deep, Jensen could fall into them. He gets a hand around the back of Jensen's head, fingers twitching once on the nape of his neck before they go still, steady and strong as he says, "I don't think beating means what you think it does."

Which is really unfair, because Jensen laughs, and Jared, the cheating bastard, smiles. Against Jensen's mouth, it feels as good as it looks, but then Jared takes advantage of his laughter, slips his tongue into his mouth.

Jensen has the beginnings of a really forceful argument about how the one who makes the first move should be the one to close the deal, but Jared's kissing him, all slow heat and lazy certainty. It's like he talks and like he smiles, putting everything he has in it, like he's learning Jensen's mouth the way he learns a scene: thorough and determined and so fucking interested. Only that's not right, because when he sweeps his tongue over Jensen's teeth, it's like he wants to stay. When he does some freakish fluttery thing over the roof of Jensen's mouth that he's obviously been waiting to show off,Jensen's pretty sure if Jared doesn't stay, he really will kill him.

Still, Jensen pulls away, just on principle. He doesn't care that he's smiling wide enough to hurt, because he's still got nothing on Jared in the dork department. He leans back when Jared tries to follow, smiles even more when Jared makes this lost little whimpering noise that's unquestionably the best thing Jensen's ever heard.

"You're a cheating bastard," Jensen says, "and I hate you."

Then he leans in as Jared leans forward again. Jared says, "I am too awesome for you to stand," and Jensen has no choice but to kiss all of that smart-ass out of him.


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